Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. 1. Welcome to Walson KATE The sky grew overcast as Kate drove into the small gas station. She looked at the back seat. Jimmy was fast asleep. The attendant, a slightly overweight woman in her forties, came over. "How far to Walson?", asked Kate. "Just five miles north. Why are you going there?", the attendant became suspicious. "Just to have some peace and quiet", said Kate. The attendant looked at Kate with envy. In spite of being her age, Kate had a fantastic figure, with long legs, narrow waist, large buttocks and prominent breasts, a fact which her jeans and sweater could not completely conceal. She wore her blonde hair in a bob, which only added to her appeal. "I wouldn't expect peace and quiet in Walson", the attendant spat on the ground, "Are you going to stay there for long?" Kate shrugged. "Hard to say. As long as I need I guess." "As long as I need...", the attendant mulled her words, "What are you doing?" "Writing", said Kate. "Writing what?" "Novels." As usual, Kate was too ashamed to admit she's writing erotica. She was used to keeping it secret, especially from her son. "I tell you this", said the attendant, "Walson is a... bad place. I wouldn't let anyone from my family, especially someone as young as your son, near there." "Bad? In what sense?" "Do you know why did the whites settle here? Because the Indians didn't. The white settlers thought the natives must be jerks to avoid place as rich in game and fruit as this one. But the Indians were wiser. The settlers, their grandsons and granddaughters..." The woman cut herself off. "What about them?", asked Kate. The attendant just shook her head. Kate paid for the fuel and went on. The woman must be crazy, thought Kate. She had a friend in Walson. She was moving away ("moving on", she called it) and she would gladly hand her house over. No price, no deadlines, no strings attached. "Where are you going?", asked Kate. "To Asia", she said. Kate didn't inquire further. Melanie was always a bit eccentric, a bit off, but not in a bad way. Kate wasn't at all suprised by her decision. As she approached Walson a warm, gentle, summer rain began to pound against her windshield. In spite of the weather Kate wouldn't help but notice how beautiful the country surrounding Walson was: green, mostly pine woods and rolling hills gave this place a magical air. Kate drove down the alley of quaint, old-fashioned homes. Walson was an old town, she was told, dating back to the earliest settlers - the settlers who've taken the land from the Indians who shunned it. "Turn left", said the navigation, "After hundred meters, turn right." Eventually, she reached an old, colonial style house where Melanie lived. "Jimmy?", she turned to her sleeping son, "Jim?" The sixteen-year old stirred. JIM The place was thick with darkness, as if, far from being an absence of light, it became solid and real. There was something else, radiating through it. A maelstrom of emotions - hatred, anguish and, above all... "COME!" ... incredible, almost monstrous desire and excitement. The thing in the darkness lusted - for him, for the people he knew, for all the people in the world. "COME AND SET ME FREE!" It sounded like a command. "Let me go!", Jim cried, but the darkness swallowed his words. "SET ME FREE, AND ALL YOU DESIRE WILL COME TRUE!" As he heard this words Jim's mind was overcome by a sensation - a blissful sensation that the dull life he led before will be left behind, and from now on he'll live in a world of erotic bliss and excitement, eternally so. "SET ME FREE!" "Jim?", he recognized his mother's voice. The darkness dispersed, but the dim light of the rainy afternoon seemed almost continuous with the dream. "We're here", said Kate. He looked around. Quaint, aged, colonial-style houses dotted both sides of the road. "Is this Walson?", he asked. "Yes", said Kate, "Do you like it?" Jim said nothing. It was too early to say if he liked the place or not. "Come on", said Kate, "Let's check if Melanie is home." They disembarked and went hastily towards the porch, to shield themselves against the rainfall. Kate rang the doorbell. There was silence. Jim looked around again. It struck him there was no traffic, no people on the streets. The town appeared deserted. He was pierced by cold, icy fear. Something was wrong with this place. In the mean time, there was no answer from Melanie. Kate rang the door again. The rain began to subside. The doors creaked and a swarthy woman appeared. "Kate Whitehouse?", she asked. "Melanie?" The woman opened the door a bit wider. She appeared to be in her forties. There was something oriental about her appearance - as if she came from India or Middle East. "Come on in." * Five minutes later both the weary travellers were seated in the salon. A fire cracked in the hearth, giving the room a bright, warm glow, in contrast to the chill and the rain outside. "Where are you going again?", Kate was inquisitive. "To Asia, and that's all you need to know", said Melanie, "In fact, I'm going back home." It was only then that Kate realized how little did she know about her friend. "Once you've rested, allow me to show you around", she said, "But take your time. I'm in no hurry." Melanie's voice was deep and sensual. In spite of his best intent, Jim found that it turns him on. * The two-story house was a thing of beauty: it retained the elegance of colonial style in spite of having all the necessary modern amenities. One room on the second floor was especially appealing, mostly due to the window that overlooked the misty woods. Jim thought that his mother will choose it for her study. Melanie was rather reserved when asked about Walson. As hard as Kate tried to inquire about the town and its history, Melanie did her best to paint it in as ordinary colors as possible. It was just another town in New England, and albeit there were some strange legends surrounding the place where it was founded they were just that - the legends. Jim was shown his own, rather spartan room. He decided he's going to decorate it in one way or another. By the time they were done the afternoon turned to evening, and the rain to mere drizzle. Melanie was due to depart the next morning. After appropriating the bed that was to be his from now on, Jim laid awake till late at night. At first he was restless; there was something about this seemingly ordinary situation that made him feel afraid. Then, the fear turned into erotic fantasy; he found himself visited by strange, often dark thoughts that he didn't previously believed possible. Eventually, even this gave way to drowsiness, which in turn dissolved into deep sleep. KATE "Did you let Pete near the Lady?" Cucumber, tomato. "Yes." Where's the toilet paper? Kate scanned the alley and realized it must be in the next one. "Be glad he didn't vanish, like Sammie." "Don't be superstitious." "The Lady took her." Kate made it to the checkout. A middle-aged woman before her was checking out; it was the one that spoke about the Lady. Kate caught her before the grocery. "Excuse me..." The woman turned to her. She had a tired face. "Kate Whitehouse, I've just... moved in." The face remained expressionless. Not even a smile. "Jemma Reines", the woman extended her hand. Kate shook it. "Excuse me, but... who is the Lady?" "The Lady... How long are you going to stay here?" "For as long as I need. I'm looking for inspiration." Jemma mulled her words. "I'm a writer", she added. "A writer... You need to be writing porn to be able to make ends meet in this trade." Kate felt herself blush. "Lady's story is an inspiring one", said Jemma, "Want to hear it?" Kate nodded. "The Lady is actually a carved statue in the woods. How did it appear there, who made it - no one knows. Everyone thought it was Indians, only that the Indians said they didn't. It just appeared one day, out of the blue, they said. Those who stayed near it went mad, or actually... not mad, but... They have developed strange appetites. Strange desires, you might say. Most left. Some stayed and worshipped the statue; they brought comely boy and girls, kidnapped from the other tribes, as offerings... Left them naked and bound to the effigy. The offerings disappeared. Then the Indians have said to have disappeared as well, those who stayed. Then, centuries later, the white settlers came..." Jemma took a deep breath. "The white settlers came and found a fertile, bountiful land. The Indians told them to stay away, but they didn't listen. In the middle of the forest they have found the effigy. The Lady of the Woods. And if they have let their kids near the effigy, they have disappeared as well. Or so the story goes. Some said the shadow came out of the effigy and took them." Kate took a while to digest the story. "When did the last disappearance took place?" The woman shrugged. "No one kept the record. Boys and girls, men and women. All of them good-looking. The last one was... About ten years ago." "Who was that?" "A group of teenagers camping out near the effigy. But some said they ran away, but..." "But?" "They found their tattered clothing and underwear. Clothing and underwear. No blood. No bodies." Jemma shook her head. "See you around", she said and left. JIM Left alone in their new home, and still to anxious to venture outside, Jim gave himself to what he usually did when nobody was looking: browsing erotic sites. He steered away from hardcore pornography, as it made him disgusted. But he felt drawn towards the more suggestive material, and more specifically to fetish: pictures of naked women, tied up and in peril. He knew it's not the most usual taste for the people his age. At times he felt guilty about it. But it didn't stop him from browsing websites and blogs dedicated to his favorite themes. Eventually, he orgasmed into a tissue he put in his pants. Usually, this was the moment when he felt drained and empty. But not this time. In fact, the desire he tried to put to sleep my the masturbation remained there, like an afterglow. Bored and alone, he began to explore the house. The attic, the hall with closed door leading presumably to the cellar, the kitchen. It felt as though the place still bore the memory of its previous owner and missed her. Eventually, he found his way to the library. The last place he'd expect himself to find in. A book still lay open on the reading table. Its pages were slightly faded, and the book bore traces of being read over and over, obsessively. Jim found himself being drawn to it, almost against his best judgement... "... the Being that sayeth it createth us, the one that is posing as the Creator, is deranged. So deranged it hath grown it hath forgotten what It is, and what is what It purportes to be Its Creation..." Jim reached for the book. It proved small, smaller, in fact, than it originally appeared, and lighter. He suddenly felt he has to appropriate it. The boy closed the tome and looked at the cover. It said: "The Veil of Senses, as relied to us by venerable Hassan Al-Tawhbi. Translated into the speech of the English folk by Jeffrey Duston" He grabbed the book and scurried upstairs. On the way to his bedroom he heard the front door being opened. For some reason, he thought, his mother can't find about it. It was to be his and only his. "Jimmy?", he heard his mother call, "Jim?" He looked frantically for a place to stash the book, and eventually found it - in a drawer of the old desk. "I'm here!", he called back. "What were you up to?", judging from the voice and its echo, she was on her way to the kitchen. "Nothing special", he said. He found her just there, unpacking the groceries. "Can I go outside?" "Sure. Just take your mobile on." "Yes, mom." "And make sure the tracking is enabled!" That was the major mean she had to keep him under control. "Sure!" He strode into the street, slamming the doors behind. Jim looked around. The mist was still hanging over the empty street. Coupled with the nigh-complete absence of people it gave the place a dreamlike feel. He started walking down, slowly. A face peered at him from the window. It belonged to a woman. She was smiling, or appeared to be smiling, but there was nothing pleasant in her smile. Jim hastened his pace. After a minute of walk he found himself on the crossroads. A lonely car strode by, carrying a family with a child. The child - seated on the back - followed Jim with a blank stare, until the car disappeared into the mist. Jim looked around, but no matter what direction he cast his gaze at, he saw the same emptiness, dotted by the old, almost crumbling, colonial houses. Eventually, he turned to the left. As he made his way down the street a church emerged from the fog. For a moment Jim thought of entering, if only to find himself in the presence of other people. But the gate was locked with chains and the place looked as deserted as the rest of the town. Further down the town gave way to the woods. Jim was on the edge. Behind him was the small town of Walson, before - a narrow, winding path, going Devil knew where. For some reason, he felt that he should follow it. He looked at the mobile. The GPS was still on, so even if he got lost he should be able to find his way back. With this thought in mind, he embarked on what he thought will be a short stroll through the forest. After just a few steps it was almost like the woods closed around him; they became dark and dense. Jim didn't know for how long did he follow the narrow path, winding among the pines, through the mist, aware only of his immediate surroundings; it was as though he was in a grip of a trance. He only came to his senses when the woods opened to a meadow. The vastness of the place stood in contrast to the darkness of the wood. Indeed, it seemed almost untouched by fog that surrounded it, and only the moisture of the earth and the smell of petrichor reminded of the last days rainfall. A carved, wooden statue stood in the meadows center. It looked like a contorted nude female, with eyes and mouth wide open, although as if it was screaming, either in pain or anger. Jim approached the figure, almost intent on touching it... "Watch out." He turned around. A girl, about his age, wearing a t-shirt and shorts, and a leather belt, stood behind him, watching him. She had shoulder-length, strawberry-blond hair and a nice figure. "What is it?", he pointed to the statue. "We call it the Lady", she said. "The Lady? Is it some kind of Indian totem?" The girl moved closer. "The Indians wanted nothing to do with it. They said it was evil." She stood now just before him. Jim noticed she's wearing knee-length boots. "People have said to have disappeared there, so watch out." "I don't believe in this stuff", he said. "What stuff?" "Ghost, devils, demons, witches. Paranormal." "Kids from my school have disappeared after camping there... It was ten years ago. Before I started school." Jim might have not believed the girl, but he could not help but notice how quiet it was. Usually woods in the summer are filled with singing of birds. This one was filled with dead silence. "Anna", she extended her hand. "Jim", he extended his. They shook hands. He couldn't help but notice that her grip was soft and warm, almost submissive. "Did you come to Melanie's place?", she asked. "How do you know?" "Walson is a small town. Besides, Melanie said that she's leaving her home for newcomers. So I figured I'll come here and see who's the newcomer." The strangeness of the statement dawned on Jim. "Come here? You mean... you knew I'll be there?" "Everyone is drawn here, who comes here for the first time. Everyone." KATE After Jim has left Kate realized she's got, at last, some time for herself and her creative endeavors. The income from her previous novel would last her for some time, but Kate was itching to get back to work. In a way, after a lifetime of disappointment she carved a world for herself, a world of imagination, where everything she secretly desired came true, and she made a living out of it. Well, not everything. There were subjects she always wanted to write about, but she knew that the prudish publishers would not allow for them. After browsing a few uncensored fora and story posts she realized that she does have an itching for writting something forbidden - something taboo. If only there was a market for this kind of thing... There wasn't. If you were lucky you could have posted a story on a permissive forum and not be banned, but turning it into a novel and comic book and getting published - that was a different story entirely. Somehow, however, she decided she has to try. She went to a room she decided would be her study - the one with a window overlooking the dense woods - and stripped off. This time she undressed to her bra and panties, but there were occasions, when still back in the city, that she'd take off everything and work with the blinders down and in a state of complete nudity. She was, of course, cautious to do it only when Jim was out in school. This was her way of putting herself in mood. Then, as she usually did, she sat before her laptop and let her memories and fantasies blend until they coalesced into a vision she could put down into words. What was it to be this time? A story about erotic peril. But what kind of? Let's set it in some exotic place. Africa, South America, or, the place where Melanie left... Asia. Pacific. An island on Pacific. "They were running out of gas. To add insult to injury, food was also growing scarce. The GPS was not working. And so they searched for a place to land." Great beginning, but who are they? Husband and wife? Boyfriend and girlfriend? A wicked idea came to Kate's mind. "'Mom!', cried Brian, 'I can see a land!'" Who is his mother? "Jane, in spite of being a seasoned adventurer who published her stories in most of the major magazines, decided that taking her son with her on her journey was a good move. Yes, she was a celebrity. Yes, she was extremely sexy for her age. Yet now the best man and companion was her offspring, a boy of just..." Kate paused. Should we make it politically correct? Give the boy the magical age of eighteen? Her hand hovered over the keyboard. "... sixteen." But what about the island? Should it be inhabited or empty? "It struck Jane that all of the inhabitants were women. Beautiful, that's true, but where were the men? As smiling and inviting as they were, she did not their intentions." How did the travelers find themselves on the island? It was magic, of course. The natives worshiped a monstrous deity; they invited couples of all sorts. The women were sacrificed, and the men were used for breeding. "'Mom!', Brian called out, but held, as he were, by his arms, he could do nothing but watch the native women strip his mother naked. 'Amelele nalata!', cried the main priestess. Jane was tied to a wooden post, hands behind her back, just next to the pit in the ground. A growl began to come out of it, and a giant tentacle protruded..." Kate stopped. How should the story end? Should both the travelers die, Jane in the mouth of the monster and Brian disposed of after he was used to the purpose his captors had in mind? The writer peeled off her bra and panties. She felt the inspiration flow through her. "Brian cupped and massaged his mother's breasts, and she moaned in extasy. After his daring charge on the monster and their near-impossible escape they remained naked; in the moment of peril they saw in each other a man and a woman, rather than mother and son." It was just a sketch, but at least a beginning of something. Details had to be fleshed out. How did they escape? What happened after? Perhaps some ideas will have to be censored. But now Kate was turned on by her writing; she laid down on the floor and gave herself the love and tenderness that she missed after her last guy (who turned out to be jerk anyway) left her. After she came to she realized that it did little to asuade her excitement; she was as turned on as before. It had to do... With the woods. Something was in the woods. Something that had this effect on her... The Lady? At this moment the doors slammed shut. "Mom?", she heard her son say. "Damn", she swore under her breath and began to hastily dress.