tagCelebritiesIn The Mausoleum

In The Mausoleum

byMylynka©

It was 2 AM. I didn’t have to work tonight, for a change, but as usual, I could not sleep --- the moon was full --- I never sleep when the moon is full. Everyone in the apartment was in a sound sleep so I decided to take a drive. I wasn’t even sure where I’d go; I would just follow my instincts.

I quietly threw on a light summer string strap dress over my thong, not even bothering with any other undergarments, slid into my car and headed for the countryside. Shortly after the moon was fully overhead, I found myself on a desolate country road. I don’t recall seeing a house for quite some time. It didn’t bother me though --- I like it that way. I was on a part of the road where the trees arched their branches across the road interlacing their leafy fingers so as to block out all but patches of moonlight. I’ve always enjoyed places like that and even have a tendency to drive a bit slower so as to savor the experience.

This time, however, my car decided to give me all the time I’d need to enjoy the place. It just suddenly lost all power. The engine quit, the lights went out --- the battery seemingly dead. After turning the key a time or two with no response, I shrugged my shoulders, got out and began walking. I knew it was the middle of the night but I’ve never been afraid of the boogieman, so I didn’t give it a second thought. Not even bothering to put on my shoes, being barefoot 90% of the summer, I set out on a leisurely walk to --- anywhere --- wherever I happened to wind up.

Part way down the road, I noticed a slight change in the climate. A heavy cloud had covered the once bright full moon, plunging all around me into blackness. A wind with a distinct chill to it picked up enough to blow my hair back from my face. I didn’t mind. I love the wind. It seemed to caress my cheeks like the gentle touch of the backs of a man's fingers. I savored it.

Then the thunder and lightning started, accompanied by a light rain. Still I did not pick up my pace but I visually searched for a refuge from what threatened to be a rough storm. While I loved watching summer storms, I had sense enough not to get caught out in one.

The rain increased and had a bitter cold sting to it. Soon my light cotton dress became drenched, clinging to my wet body. My hair could hold no more water as the rain came now in torrents. Stubborn as I am I did realize that I simply had to get out of the rain soon or become sick. I quickened my pace, not sure if I was even still on the road. The rain obscured all objects around me. I could have sworn I had just passed a tombstone. I have never given in to panic, but I was becoming a bit anxious. This wasn’t leisurely fun anymore.

Soon, off to my left, I caught sight of an ever so dim flicker of light. I made my way toward it, not knowing nor caring if it was a safe refuge or not. My bare feet seemed to find every sharp edged rock on the gravel path I now trod. The coldness around me and the frigid rain made my feet ache. This was not such a good idea after all.

I was just beginning to think I would never reach safety before my feet fell off from the cold, when I reached a great iron gate. It was the entrance to a stone building that appeared to be a mausoleum. It was the source of the guiding light. Without a second thought, I tugged on the gate. It opened readily. As I said before, I was never afraid of the boogeyman, and the rain was increasingly uncomfortable. Of course, I went inside.

Once inside, it took a few moments for my vision to adjust to the light. The Mausoleum was lit by a single torch. There were the usual drawers in the stone walls and one huge stone casket in the center of the room. The name CALLOWAY chiseled on all. Looking around, I saw off to the far back corner a stone door, slightly ajar. I am by nature a very curious, spontaneous individual, knowing my curiosity usually gets me in trouble; I still went inside to check it out. It stood open just enough for me to squeeze through.

On the other side of the door was a great spiral of stone steps leading downward, torches spaced every few feet lighting the way. As I followed them down I heard a noise --- was that the door closing behind me? The average individual would have the desire to run back up the stairs, try to escape--- not me. I simply shrugged my shoulders and continued descending the stairs. Inwardly, I found it quite exciting --- maybe even a bit erotic. My heart raced as I tried to anticipate what might await me at the bottom.

The temperature grew noticeably warmer the further down the stairway I went. My chills were subsiding. The base of the stairwell opened into a huge cavernous room. It had a great hearth, fire a blaze with inviting warmth. In front of the hearth sat a large high backed chair fit for a Lord, upholstered in purple velvet. To the right stood a large coffin draped with the same purple velvet cloth. Beyond that was several wooden doors, all closed.

I found the room to have a sort of comfort and a very pleasant cinnamon odor, which permeated every inch of the air. An iron cauldron hung over the fire and on closer examination, I found that the liquid bubbling within was the source of the aroma. A ladle hung nearby and behind me by the chair stood a round pedestal like table with a very gothic pewter chalice placed in the exact center of it.

I still don’t know why, but the most natural thing to do for me was take the chalice and ladle some of the liquid into it, which, of course I did. Was a voice within my head instructing my every move? So it seemed. “Drink” I heard a soft bass whisper saying. No one was there. With a shrug of my shoulders, I did just that.

Immediately I felt a soothing warmth course through my entire body, extending to the very tips of my fingers and toes. The drink did indeed have a pleasantly sweet cinnamon taste but there was something else in it. A hint of something I could not quite place. I found myself draining the chalice, then running the tip of my tongue over the rim to get every last bit of the taste.

I began feeling strange. A sort of floating sensation came over me. I could no longer feel the stone floor beneath my bare feet. Colors and sounds became accentuated. I could hear a monotonous drip of water from a long unused fountain across the room. As I turned my head, my vision followed a step behind me in slow motion. I heard music, but from where I could not tell. It was in my head, it was all around me, a graveyard symphony, --- very gothic, --- perhaps a bit morbid. Then cam the voice again.

“The spirit of The Undertaker lives in the soul of all mankind. The eternal flame of life, which can not be extinguished the origins of which, can not be explained.”

The music grew louder. Languidness swept over me. I stared at the wooden doors. Then the center most door slowly creaked open. I felt a presence of great power was there with me. The doorway was filled with a misty smoke. In the midst of the smoke appeared a large dark figure. I knew immediately he was the one whose voice I had heard. He emerged, but I do not recall seeing his feet move. He seemed to float toward me… very tall, dark, clad in a black velvet cape hood draped about his shoulder blades. His hair had a sort of red/black glow to it, very long; top and sides drawn back into a braid down the center of the rest of his loose hair. The rest of his hair lay partly in back, partly across the front of his shoulders. He was nearly seven feet tall, very powerfully built. His face was strong but evil, brows pointing upward toward his ears, combination mustache/beard hanging about an inch below his chin, splitting in the center, then curving, horn like. Moving toward me he seemed to drink in every inch of me with his piercing green eyes. As he circled me like an animal circling its prey, he slipped first my left dress strap off my shoulder, then the right, causing my scant cover to fall around my ankles. I stood before him, naked save for my black silk thong.

I felt exposed, but had no desire to cover myself. I was at his mercy. I could feel his approval as he viewed my many tattoos, and felt him place his hand on my bottom, cupping the cheek, which held the flaming Undertaker symbol tattoo. Hand still in place, he circled to the front of me, sliding his other hand up my thigh, brushing against my private place, traveling on up to cup my left breast. There he examined the dragon tattoo, tracing the tail down to my nipple, running his thumb across the tip. He displayed the most evil grin I have ever seen and I felt a rush of great desire sweep over me. He spoke again, but I do not see his lips move

“The answer lies in the everlasting spirit”

His hand moved up my back to grab my long auburn hair, forcing my head backward. He moved his other hand up to caress my neck, looked directly into my eyes --- are his eyes full of blood? I close my eyes as he plants an ever so gentle kiss on my mouth --- my chin --- my neck. Suddenly I feel his full open mouth on my neck, then sharp punctures entering my jugular. I am overcome, first by the pain, then by sheer ecstasy as he sucked at my life fluid. I feel it flow out of me but I also feel something else within me. His spirit. He breaks the deadly kiss, shaking my head so I open my eyes to his blood drenched mouth. Grinning even wider, more evil, he traveled his kisses down my body, lingering on my breast, biting the nipple. I moan, not from pain but pure pleasure. As he lays my body back into his arm, his other hand moves down between my legs, lifting me easily into his dark embrace.

“Soon all mankind will witness the rebirth --- of --- The Undertaker.” He says as he carries me toward the coffin. “I --- will not --- rest --- in peace.” The last word he drew out into almost a sigh. The graveyard symphony ever playing in the back of my mind, growing in intensity.

Laying me on the soft velvet coffin cover, I feel him rip away my thong. I have no desire to stop him --- I want him more than I have ever wanted any man in my entire life. He leans over me, kissing me once more, traveling down my body to my ever so private place, leaving a trail of blood guiding his way. I feel him draw me into his mouth, first sucking at me then the ecstasy of his bite. Drinking there his fill, he stands, throws back his cape and climbs upon the coffin, revealing his nakedness to me. My eyes are half lidded, but widen at the sight of his ample manhood --- so large --- so smooth --- so hard. He crawls upward to my face and lies his manhood upon my lips. My mouth opens wide as I take him in, drawing hungrily at him. He does not allow me to drain him; instead he pulls out of my mouth and trails his still hard member down my body, between my legs. He pulls my legs, one on either side of him, up around his waist and roughly forces his member inside of me.

Had I though I felt the epitome of ecstasy before, I was greatly mistaken. This man --- this daemon’s machinations of lovemaking took me to a height I had never been before. His member was both hell fire hot and icy cold. With each thrust I felt as though we were becoming one, the music seemed to accentuate this, symbols crashing with every connection. Not only was he in me bodily, but his whole spirit encompassed me. I felt my body shudder orgasmic ally more times than I had thought was humanly possible. Suddenly, I felt the rush of his life fluids course through me, reaching every inch of my being as he reached his crescendo.

Stepping down, he pulled his cape once more around him. He then takes my arms and crosses them over my breasts, palms downward like a corpse, then drapes the purple velvet over me. I am finished --- I can no longer move --- no longer breath --- no longer feel anything. I am floating, seemingly without my body.

“Rest in Peace” I heard him say once more. All goes dark.

#

I hear the sound of a distant thunderstorm moving slowly away. Reluctantly I open my eyes. I am in my car --- fully clothed --- completely dry. My arms are crossed over my breasts; palms down like a corpse. The car’s engine is running. On the seat beside me lies a black rose tied with a purple velvet ribbon. A note beside it written in beautiful calligraphic writing

“You are eternally mine.” It read. “Rest In Peace”

My eyes widened as I looked around me. There was no sign of a cemetery --- no mausoleum.

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