The Island

Patrick walked in and surveyed the walls. "Huh. I didn't know ghosts used Sharpies." Rachel laughed. They lingered a few minutes before Patrick suggested, "Let's see if this place has a cellar."

The cellar stairs were located under the main staircase. Patrick and Rachel stood at the open door and shone their flashlights down the steps. The cellar had a low ceiling and an uneven concrete floor. The musty air that assaulted their noses reminded Rachel of a tomb.

"After you?" Patrick offered.

Rachel shook her head. "No way, I'm not going down there. I'll just hang out up here."

"Suit yourself." He stepped onto the first tread and the wood groaned loudly under his weight.

"Careful," Rachel hissed, "the stairs might be rotted."

Patrick nodded and more cautiously took another step. He kept to the side of the stairs where there was less give and more support. Rachel watched from main floor as he turned and his flashlight faded deeper into the cellar until all she saw was a black opening. An irrational thought flitted through her mind:Whatever is down there is going to get Patrick and come rushing up the stairs and get me. She stepped quickly away from the door and into the foyer, shining her flashlight this way and that. The beam caught the cut glass of the dining room chandelier and split into small rainbows that danced on the walls.

Rachel stepped in for a closer look. If all the furniture had been removed why was the expensive-looking chandelier still here? A noise from the kitchen interrupted her thoughts. She switched off the flashlight and froze in place, listening hard. There was a bump and a quiet hiss followed by a low noise. Rachel's heart thudded against her chest. She waited. Another bump and a low murmuring sound. Last she knew Amanda and Shane were on the third floor. She didn't think they had come down so maybe Patrick had returned.

"Patrick!" she whispered as loud as she dared.

No answer.

She crept toward the double swinging doors that led to the kitchen. Mercifully the floorboards did not creak. Rachel turned her head to listen better and heard what sounded like someone or something smacking their lips as they ate.Easy girl, she thought,pull yourself together. Probably a raccoon having a late night snack.

Rachel told herself this but didn't believe it.

Slowly she moved her eye to crack between the doors and saw nothing. Turning her head she saw movement in a far corner. She inched one door open for a better angle and discovered Amanda and Shane leaning up against a counter. Amanda had her back to Shane who was kissing her neck fiercely. One of his hands was up the front her shirt and the other was stuffed down the front of her shorts. Amanda squirmed and moaned softly, arching her back.

"Whoa! That's hot!" whispered Patrick in Rachel's ear, almost causing her to jump through the door.

Rachel closed her eyes and cursed silently while waiting for her heart to slow to its normal pace. When she opened them she saw Amanda grinding her ass against Shane's crotch. Rachel's cheeks burned from being caught peeping and stepped aside. "Come on, we shouldn't be watching," she whispered. Patrick nodded but watched for a few more seconds before following Rachel outside.

The backyard sloped upward away from the house. Rachel walked a couple of hundred feet up the hill to a large flat rock, kicked off her sandals and sat down. Patrick sat down beside her. From here they had a good view of the back door. They waited in awkward silence. Several minutes passed before Rachel asked,

"Find anything in the cellar?"

"Not really, just storerooms and what looked like a laundry room. One room had a large pentagram drawn on the floor - a little creepy but no ghosts. This haunted house sucks. I want my money back."

Rachel laughed. "Sorry you came?"

"No, not at all," he answered sheepishly. "I got to spend some time with you."

Rachel felt her face flush and was thankful the darkness hid it. She smiled and said nothing. They sat and waited, not speaking, but this time the silence was comfortable. Rachel became acutely aware of how close they were to each other without touching. The warmth of his body radiated against her skin. She watched him out of the corner of eye and saw he was at ease, his body relaxed and his eyes scanning the stars overhead. In contrast she was a bundle of nerves and all tensed up. Rachel looked back at the house but that reminded her of Amanda and Shane and what they were doing and she felt the color rise in her cheeks again.

Breaking the silence she began, "You know, I never thanked-" but his kiss cut her off.

His lips were soft and warm and delicious against hers. The kiss may have lasted one minute or even one hour – Rachel didn't know. But as soon as it ended she wanted to feel his mouth on hers again. She leaned in and met Patrick halfway this time. She opened her mouth slightly, inviting, and felt the light dance of his tongue on hers. Their bodies turned towards each other. One arm wrapped around her shoulders while the other snaked around her waist. Warm butterflies fluttered low in her belly.

The kisses were slow and sensual, one piled unhurriedly on top of another. Without a word they scooted off the rock to lie on the grass, their bodies pressed together. His lips nuzzled against her neck just below her ear and the butterflies sank lower. His hands were roaming her backside now, from her neck down to her buttocks, never stopping, always moving. He kissed her as if he couldn't get enough and her kisses were just as urgent.

Finally they parted and rolled on their backs, panting. The stars and the moon shone down on them as their breathing slowed to a more reasonable pace. Patrick sat up and pulled off his t-shirt, smoothing it out on the grass to lay back on. Rachel rolled on her side to study him in the moonlight. His body was lean and taut with sharp lines defining his muscles. Seeing his body up close made her doubt her own. She was skinny and short and didn't have legs that went on for days and her breasts were small and there wasn't much curvature to her hips and although she was fit she wasn't that athletic and –

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

She looked up and saw him staring at her intently. There was desire and want and lust all etched on his face and all directed at her. She could scarcely believe a guy like Patrick was truly interested in a girl like her. Amanda was right - she should relax and have some fun. "Nothing," she said shaking her head. She leaned over him and kissed those soft lips.

His arms wrapped around her and pulled her on top of him. With her fingers entwined in his hair she kissed him hard. His hands slipped under the back of her shirt, pushing it up and caressing her skin. Her mouth journeyed across to his ear, down his neck, along his jawline and back to his waiting lips. Their tongues met and clashed, eager to taste. Her kisses were hungry but his were hungrier. The feel of his lips against hers and his hands on her body made her dizzy with desire.

Patrick sat up, lifting her effortlessly, until she was straddling his lap. His mouth moved to her chin then down to the front of her neck before finally stopping at the hollow just above her breast bone, causing Rachel to throw her head back and gasp. His tongue flicked over her skin and the butterflies stopped and melted into a pool of liquid heat way down low. Rachel moaned and the only thought running through her mind was 'Those lips! Those lips! Those lips!' He pulled his head back and in one fluid motion pulled her shirt and bra off over her head. He leaned down and kissed and licked along her collarbone, his hand squeezing her breast, his fingers tweaking the erect nipple. Rachel suddenly became aware of being topless and her body stiffened at his touch. He stopped and looked at her.

"I don't think we should go any farther," she said meekly.

Patrick looked deep into her eyes. "Can we keep kissing?"

Rachel debated momentarily before nodding. His lips found hers and he pulled her tightly to him, his skin burning against hers. She relaxed slowly in his arms. Her thoughts were again consumed by the onslaught of his kisses until a hand slid down the back of her shorts. Again, Rachel protested but this time Patrick did not stop. She struggled against him, trying to push away, but he held her firmly in place. Rachel continued squirming and he shifted under her and now she could feel his hardness rubbing against her crotch.

Grabbing him by the hair she yanked his head back. "Stop, god dammit!" she hissed. Smiling a grin full of malice, he shook his head slowly and kept grinding against her. "Get off of me or I'll scream," she said in a low, even voice.

Patrick kept smiling. "Go ahead. No one will hear you."

"Amanda's inside with Shane. They'll hear me."

"No," he said casually, "they're not. They left over twenty minutes ago, while we were kissing. They even waved 'bye."

"You're lying!" she challenged and let out the loudest, longest scream she could. When the echo had faded she waited but there was no response. No one called out, and no one came running from the house. She screamed again but still got no answer. Fury and panic welled up in Rachel. "Why didn't you tell me they were leaving?" she demanded.

"Because I knew you would have left with them. We were having fun." In one quick movement he turned and rolled on top of Rachel, trapping her beneath him. "And, you owe me something for the whole Dennis thing." He saw the fear flare up in her face and he laughed. "Relax. I don't want to fuck you. In my experience virgins are shitty lays. I prefer a girl who knows what she's doing in bed. It's just that you got me all worked up and I need some relief."

"Fuck you!" she spat.

"Well, not exactly" he said as he pushed his shorts down and kicked them off. "I was thinking you could give me a handjob."

His body straddled hers, his erection jutting out at an obscene angle. Rachel struggled and cried out for several minutes until she slumped beneath him, defeated. His hand grabbed hers and pulled it to his cock, forming her fingers around the shaft and forcing her hand up and down its length. The moon descended behind the tall pine trees and an inky shadow slowly stole over them.

Giving in, Rachel started stroking him voluntarily and blinking back tears. Any desire she had for Patrick was now entirely gone. She couldn't wait to get as far from him as possible, back to her room so she could shower every last bit of him off of her. His hand dropped away from hers and he settled back. Other than the crickets the only sound was the rhythmic rubbing of skin over skin. The one consolation was that they were in near total darkness so she didn't have to see it. Time crawled by slowly until he stopped her.

"No, this isn't working," he announced matter-of-factly. "You'll have to give me a blowjob."

Rachel pulled her hand away. "The hell I will!" She kicked and squirmed again, using her every muscle in her body to try to push him away, struggling to throw him off but he weighed too much and easily pinned her to the ground.

"We're not going until I'm finished," he said patiently, as if talking to a child. "The sooner you start the sooner it'll be over."

Rachel glared at him with hate-filled eyes. "Can I use my hands, too?" she asked finally.

Patrick considered this for a minute before releasing her arms. Rachel wrapped her left hand around his cock and began stroking tentatively. The tip was now wet and slippery. "That's good," he encouraged. "Don't be afraid to use your other hand, too." She cupped his sac with her free hand. "Yeah, like that. See? You pretend to be all naïve but girls are born knowing how to give blowjobs - it's in their DNA. Now wet your lips and open your mouth."

She did as she was told, and when Patrick leaned forward, his weight shifted off her. Rachel squeezed his testicles in a vise-like grip and twisted them as savagely and as far as she could. Patrick roared in pain and rolled off. Rachel jumped up and tried to reach for her shirt but Patrick grabbed at her ankle. She kicked his hand away and started running for the house and the road and the bikes beyond. Patrick recovered faster than she thought possible and cut her off, panting hard, his face contorted in pain and rage. With nowhere else to go, Rachel turned and ran up the hill and into the woods.

There was no path to follow but the firs here were not dense and devoid of low branches. She darted through the trees, the moon casting just enough light to see. She had a bit of a lead on Patrick who was crashing and cursing after her. She ran on, trying to recall the lay of the land. To her left were stone cliffs that overlooked the road. Ahead of her, to the south, the land rose quickly towards the center of the island. The woods were thicker and there were very few houses. To her right some ways off was British Landing Road and more homes and more chance for help. She started making her way to the west.

After several minutes she hadn't put any distance between her and Patrick but he hadn't gained either. She guessed the combination of his injury and his weight was making him struggle uphill. She forced herself into constant pace and eventually she couldn't hear him anymore. Soon there was a light up ahead and to her right. Praying the home wasn't vacant this weekend she headed towards it. When she was several hundred yards away from the house she spied Patrick running through the trees below her, attempting to cut her off. It only took her a few seconds to recognize he had the better angle and she wouldn't make it.

Rachel turned back uphill. She had outrun him so far, maybe she could make it back to town before him. She swallowed her panic and ran on. The trees grew thicker, forcing her to slow until she came across a path. She followed it south, further inland, hoping that it would lead her to safety. Her bare feet pounded on the packed dirt. She strained to hear if Patrick was still following but the rush of the air and the thudding of her heart made it impossible to tell.

The ground leveled off and the running became easier. On and on she ran, one foot followed by the other, her lungs burning with every breath and a stitch stabbing her side. Adrenalin coursed through her veins, allowing her to push through the pain. The path opened onto a circular clearing. Rachel was halfway across when she stopped suddenly in a circle of bare earth.

I've been here before, she thought just as something slammed into her from behind.

The ground rose up and smacked her in the face. The world dimmed and she was vaguely aware something heavy was on her, pawing at her body. Patrick! That name and the terror associated with it cleared her mind. She was on her back and he loomed over her, panting, his hand squeezing her throat.

"You fucking cunt!" he snarled. "I'm going to teach you a lesson." His other hand was tugging at her shorts and panties. Rachel kicked and squirmed and scratched and bit until an open hand struck her hard across the face, rocking her head back and filling it with stars.

When she came to her senses she was completely naked, her hands were pinned above her head by one of his. His other hand pressed down on her chest, holding her to the ground. "You know," he breathed above her as he tried to force her legs apart with his knee, "I was afraid you had really fucked me up back there and done some real damage. But I know everything's alright because chasing you through the woods has made me harder than I've ever been in my life!" He overpowered her legs, driving them apart. "All I wanted was a blowjob. That's all. But, since you tried to really hurt me, I'm going to fuck you in all three holes!"

A drop of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, across her cheek and paused momentarily at her jawline before dropping to the bare earth beneath her. In an instant silence rushed in on them. The crickets and frogs stopped chirping and the wind died. Patrick looked up, surprised at the sudden lack of sound. Clouds drifted in front of the moon and the darkness covered them. A distant rumbling so low it could only be felt at first, began rising in intensity until it overwhelmed them, shaking the ground and the trees and the air. Patrick and Rachel both clamped their hands over their ears in a vain effort to block out the roaring onslaught. The sound pressed in on their heads, driving them to brink of insanity.

Patrick turned his head this way and that, his eyes wide with terror, trying to find the source but he was looking in the wrong direction. Rachel had her back on the ground and could feel it rushing at them, not from the woods but from the earth. She screamed as it burst out and through them.

***

In the gray light before dawn, a young woman walked naked from the forest and down the street towards town. Her hair was matted with mud and twigs, and her body was covered in blood. If anyone saw her they would have been shocked that someone who appeared to be so grievously injured could be walking around. But no one saw her, and, besides, the blood was not hers - it had belonged to a man whose soul she had devoured. The woman walked steadily on to the dorm.

In her room she found Amanda and Shane asleep. She stared at their naked and entwined bodies, Shane on his back and Amanda on her stomach with one arm and one leg draped over his body. A hunger born of a sleep spanning eons churned inside her. She could feed on these two before she travelled on. The sleeping forms stirred and muttered as if a darkness had invaded their dreams. The woman reached for them but stopped, an internal struggle evident on her face. Finally, she turned and walked to the shower to wash the filth and gore from her body.

When the woman returned the two lovers were wrestling slowly on the narrow bed, their hands and mouths eagerly exploring each other's body. Their eyes were open but blank and unseeing as the woman watched their fingers plunging, hands squeezing, tongues tasting and lips sucking. Amanda was on top, her hips rolling her sex up and down the length of Shane's shaft, making it glisten in the morning sun now streaming through the window. She settled back, slowly driving him into her. Their bodies pitched and rolled, and gasps and groans and moans of pleasure filled the room. Amanda threw her head back when her orgasm crashed over her. Shane's body stiffened, then he arched his back as he spent his seed.

The woman dressed. Before leaving she looked back at the forms on the bed. Amanda was collapsed forward over Shane, his cock still buried inside her, their bodies rising and falling with each slow breath. A thick, white trickle of their combined juices ran down his shaft and over his sac, pooling on the bed sheet. The woman, smiling sadly at the knowledge that she would never know the pleasure of the flesh, turned and left.

Hunger gnawed at her as she rode the first ferry of the day across the straits to the mainland. The woman who was once known as Rachel worked to soothe and quiet the spirit within her.

Soon, she promised.There's a truck stop just this side of the Mackinac Bridge. A driver will give us a ride south to I-80 and when we reach it we can feed on him. Another truck will take us east to another island called Manhattan where more than one and a half million souls live, with millions more surrounding it. The hunting ground there is fertile and we will never be hungry again.

The spirit settled down, content for the moment. After twenty thousand years, she had been reunited with her unspoiled vessel and had finally regained her true form. What's another couple of days? The ferry pulled into the dock, the gangway was lowered and the woman stepped onto the shore.