Blood Right

Its pages had looked out for her. Protected her. Loved her. The people in Melissa's life had all disappointed her. There was nothing left to lose. All that remained was offering herself willingly to complete the ritual. Melissa knew what to do. Live or die, she no longer cared about the outcome.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Staring at the sky through the foliage, ominous clouds darkened into an inky blackness. Not a bird chirped. "Maybe I don't want to die in the middle of the woods," thought Melissa. She had heard stories of lovers dying, electrocuted by lightning after huddling under a tree, and Melissa didn't want to go that way. She didn't even have a lover. How could she have a romantic death if she'd never even experienced romance? Fred didn't count.

Cradling the Sanguinomicon in her arms, she set off in search of shelter. Her feet knew where to go. Slowly, it all clicked into place. The crude goat head carved in an old oak. 'F + M 4-EVER' hacked into an ancient pine. Trudging through dead needles and acorns, she remembered. This was no random forest. This was the forest. The forest Fred and his shit friends thought it would be funny to kill her in. Looking past the trees, she saw the outline of the shack. Her crumbling salvation lay straight ahead, its open arms leading her into its gaping maw.

Pushing aside bright yellow police tape, she hurried inside. Only the roof's scaffolding remained, leaving her exposed. Raindrops began pelting down, erupting on the earth floor like a barrage of bullets, while the pitter-patter soaked everything around her.

"Jesus Christ, why does rain have to be cold?" thought Melissa while her t-shirt stuck to her body. The Sanguinomicon, in its mysterious ways, remained dry. Heat pulsed from its core while rain sizzled off its cover, letting off a hiss of steam. "If the basement floods, I'm totally fucked," she muttered while flipping up the trap door leading to the once-sacred grounds.

Heading down the stairs into the pitch blackness, she fumbled around for a flashlight or matches. The strong musty odor of mildew filled her nostrils. The dark always terrified her. What could be lurking in the shadows? She hated jump scares in horror movies and didn't want one now. Cautiously, ever so cautiously, she blindly groped around, using the dirt walls as a guide. Her scraped knee jammed against something hard. Something metal.

"Ouch! Shit, fuck, shit, fuck, shit..." grumbled Melissa. She really liked to cuss, especially as an aside to anger and pain. By this point, her word choices were reactionary works of art. A gust of wind rushed through the stale air of the basement.

There was a fwoomp, then a light, then a yelp. "Jesus fucking Christ!" Swearing only expressed the purest of emotion. Raw emotion. In this case, pure terror

Around her, candles lit on their own accord, forming a perfect circle around the center of the basement. Their perfect alignment, wrought iron stands standing to attention, did not match their upset state from her last visit to the shack. Did someone sneak back to rearrange them? Was this some stupid prank? Either way, Melissa did not appreciate being spooked or scared or shocked. The white wax slowly dripped from countless candelabras, coating the space in a soft light. Melissa could swear the Sanguinomicon trilled in excitement.

"Trippy," uttered Melissa under her breath while wondering if the weed she smoked earlier was laced with something else.

Heart thudding, she set her backpack down. The rain left her freezing. Stripping off her soaked clothing, she basked in the orange glow of the candles. Fatigued, she lied down in the center, too tired to draw out a new pentagram. Her period continued to trickle out, adding to the dried blood caking the pubic hair lining her mons.

Next to her, the book. Her only companion. Stroking the cover, she contemplated her fate while her head grew fuzzy with exhaustion. Iron deficiency was starting to rear its ugly head, and her mind began to fade.

Devotion. Melissa never called the police. Maybe Satan saved her last night to save her soul for him. Not that anyone knew who Satan really was. He could be a woman, or a mixture of the two--or something entirely beyond human understanding. Either way, Melissa felt determined to find out.

One hand over the Sanguinomicon, her other slid down her naked body, guided by an invisible force. Unspoken instructions pulsed through her veins. Gathering her menstrual secretions, she streaked her midriff dark red. Heat from the vellum transferred to her erogenous zones. Her neck, her chest, her clit--everything ached to be touched.

Rubbing up and down her blood-slicked form, she lost herself in a masturbatory frenzy. Smearing her pungent secretions over her breasts, caressing her nipples, she writhed on the floor, never losing her physical connection with the spellbook. As if in a trance, she dipped her fingers into her tight entrance and brought a single ruby-red drop to her lips.

Coppery. Salty. Blood. The flavors splashed over her face, but nothing happened. About to sob in frustration, Melissa felt it was all for naught. Everything she did ended in failure. Of course, the Sanguinomicon didn't carry any real power. It was all just a play of the light. A cruel trick of the candles. Her pentagram necklace cut into her skin while she tugged at it, trying to rip it off. This whole pagan thing had been a waste of time.

From her thumb, coagulated blood smudged over the pendant centered on her breasts. High, depressed or otherwise, Melissa's world spun out of focus. Eyes glued open, she tensed, too tired to run--too tired to resist. The earth creaked and groaned as if waking from a deep slumber while the floor bucked, lurching like a great beast before returning to silence. Melissa's fatigue threatened to pull her out of this world deep into her subconscious. The thin line between reality and dreams threatened to snap. With the way her day had been going, she wished for the latter.

Candles like a hundred waxy watchers towered over her. Set in candelabras, their cylindrical forms expanded and twisted around her. Leaning over her, melted wax tumbled from their curled lips, splashing onto her blood-streaked body. Hot torrents tempered her naked flesh.

"Fred totally gave me acid," thought Melissa. Her perception of the world around her no longer made sense. Each drop brought with it a new sensation--a longing between her loins. From deep within, something stirred, restless to get out.

Overflowing, the soft glow of burning candles flickered over her exhausted form. Molten wax-covered Melissa until she could be covered no more. Wrapped in purest white, her world went black.

~

Straddling the chasm between worlds, she floated away, unsure if she was awake or dreaming.

Blood oozed from between her legs in a constant stream, filling the space between her posterior, tickling the small of her back with its pungent aroma. Wax coated her eyes. She could see nothing. Only the never-ending gush exiting her menstruating pussy kept her present. The sickly stench of sloughed-off flesh seeped under her, over her, completely encased her. She became aware, slowly, of a viscous liquid creeping in from the edges of the wax casing. Piping hot, she felt it rush in, rising, threatening to submerge her. She struggled against her lustrous prison but remained melded in place.

A bell could be heard reverberating in the distance. A constant low note bellowed out--hollow like a funerary procession. Solemn in its consistency. With a deafening gong, her waxen shell cracked down the center.

Melissa gasped, filling her lungs with fresh air. Now able to move her arms, she pressed against the dried globs of candle wax, chipping them apart until they crumbled over her body. Sitting up, she found she was no longer in the basement but on a seashore. Black sand stretched endlessly, heat pulsing from underneath. A red ocean glistened like a finely cut ruby. Frothy brine lapped on the shore where she sat. In the distance, dark mountains hovered like a smoky mirage. Impressive towers of stone crowned their peaks while the unending gong continued to keep time like a metronome. No sun sat in the sky. Only her mind's eye lit the blackness of the void--her body the only light source.

Gentle waves from the sanguine sea washed over her. Coagulating like jelly, the thick liquid sloshed against her. Melissa wasn't sure where she was or what was going on. If this was hell, it was nothing like she imagined. It felt more akin to a pagan beach resort than the fire and brimstone her parents preached at her. Stretching her arms, she rested her back on the warm sands, letting the waves crest over her naked form. The ebb and flow washed away her fatigue while she soaked it all in.

Melissa's eyes fluttered while she sunk into a state of relaxation. She couldn't remember the last time stress didn't burden her in some way. The turbid air rolled over her like a heavy fog, smothering her already limited vision. In contrast to the warm black sands and sanguine waters, the air chilled her, hardening her blood-caked nipples.

The waves became incessant, rough, slamming against her, jolting her from her meditative state. From within its slimy depths, something slithered, making a beeline for the only being on the hellish shore.

"Holy. Fucking. Hell," stated Melissa, pausing between each tactfully chosen word. "I can't believe my flippin' eyes. Oh, shit!" In this case, 'oh, shit' was not an exclamation of fear, but an exclamation of awe. In fact, she elongated the 'i' so it sounded more like, 'shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit'--for in front of her a giant tongue reared itself, epically parting the red sea down the middle until it aligned its pulsing pink flesh in front of Melissa.

Mouth agape, she allowed the disembodied tongue to slide up to her. The flat base licked her feet, leaving a trail of hot slime over the build-up of dried blood. Her mouth gaped further as the tongue split, forking like a serpent in front of her. Two independently moving muscles tapered out from a fleshy base, grazing her calves. Her pounding heart harmonized with the increasing tempo of the distant bell, ringing out with anticipation. The tongue sent strange sensations through her body. Even more than the weed. Even more than Fred.

Each prong of the snakelike appendage twisted gently around her legs, wrapping up towards her thighs. Easing into its touch, she felt her own clit throb as the tongue pried her legs open. Flustered, Melissa felt vulnerable on the seashore. The ocean's turbulent waters crashed over the beach, spattering her with its metallic scent.

The tongue continued twirling around her body, thick globs of saliva oozed from its oversized tastebuds while it took in her virginal flavor. Unlike Fred, this mysterious being was gentle as it explored her most intimate areas. The edge of one fork flicked over her nipple, causing her to flinch. Melissa had masturbated before, but this was different. She felt electric.

"Oh fuck," she whispered in awe. The forked sections elongated, keeping her legs spread while the pointed tips twirled and tugged on her nipples, making her groan in a way she never had before. Losing herself to its slimy grasp, she let out a breathy moan as it continued to work its way up her sensitive neck. Licking and raking her smooth skin, making her squirm in place, it slowly devoured her. One tip brushed over her blood-tinged lips, teasing the entrance until she parted her mouth, allowing the creature to slide inside.

Her tongue instinctively wrapped around the fleshy barb. It felt right. Her kiss with the devil (if this was the devil) filled her senses. Their combined drool pooled over, spilling over her chin in a gooey cascade of viscous strands; streaking her breasts while her hands worked their way down towards her aching clit.

Once more, she could no longer tell what was gushing out from between her legs, but this time, it didn't matter the liquid of choice. All she knew was that whatever this hell-fiend was, its wet embrace felt good against her body like a drooly comforter. The forked tongue continued to wrap around her, pressing her arms behind her back while tying itself into a dripping mess of knots. Before she knew it, her thighs were splayed, drenched slit parting, as the serpentine tongue twisted back around, going for her velvety folds.

If this is what offering one's soul meant, she wanted to give hers over and over again. "Fuck sacrifices at knifepoint. Tongue my blood-soaked pussy any day," thought Melissa. Not that she'd been tongued before, but a giant demonic one seemed appropriate for her first cunnilingus experience. She spread her bound legs wider, filled with an unspoken need--her desire glistening from beneath her blood-drenched pussy. Like a flower, her folds unfurled, covered in her sweet nectar. Ruby mixed with clearest crystal.

The two prongs licked their way over her thighs until they joined together at the base of her pearl which now peeked shyly from its casing, engorged with arousal. Soft and sensual, the forks worked together, rasping against her folds. Whimpering, Melissa found herself thrusting her hips towards the velvety tongue. Sensing her every pleasure, they stiffened, one circling around her clit, each graze over her sensitive nub sending jolts through her young, hormonal body. The other placed itself over her virgin entrance, the tip teasing her tight hole.

Although she still had her proverbial cherry, she wasn't sure about her actual hymen. She'd heard that some girls rip and some girls bleed. Melissa wasn't even sure if she still had one. Between the bike riding, a failed attempt at the splits and a parental purity check gone wrong, she doubted much remained of that meaningless piece of skin anyway. Before her mind could brood over all the possibilities, the tongue pressed against her welcoming pussy, smearing its excretions around her already drenched form.

Spreading her, the tapered flesh slid inside, stretching her velvety walls for the first time. Having something fill her so completely caused Melissa to let out a series of high-pitched moans. Arms behind her back in a slobbery web of knots, she submitted her mind, body and soul.

The pink flesh pulsed inside her. Taste buds massaged her g-spot. The prong stimulating her clit licked up her body, wrapping around her breasts, smearing their combined tastes over her swollen nipples. Raking over her face, leaving splotches of slime sticking to her hair, it flickered over her lips in a final kiss before snaking back down to her clit, going in for the kill.

Sliding in and out, the tongue expertly guided Melissa down a path of purest bliss. She felt it build. The other prong returned to her aching clit to continue its assault on her sensitive nerve endings. Like in her wet dream, she felt herself reach the edge. Filled and ready to burst, the tongue bucked upwards, dangling her body precariously over the great red sea.

Crying out, the overwhelming sensations washing over her became too much. Her mind went foggy. The mountains in the distance blurred. Body tensing, she felt her pussy clench over the hell-fiend while her orgasm ripped through her.

The demonic tongue held her tight, keeping one fork jammed firmly inside as she convulsed like a marionette. Aftershocks rushed over her while she screamed, her voice echoing off the desolate landscape. From within her, a building pressure, not unlike indigestion, not unlike gas, pressed against her.

Eyes rolling to the back of her head, something exited her gaping folds. Like a pillar, a sheaf of solidified blood expunged itself with great force, rushing out from between her thighs. Like a rod of solid steel, it smashed against the forked tongue, forcing its slimy binds to tear. Continuing to stretch outwards, it pinned the fleshy creature to the bottom of the endless sea underneath. Anchoring her in the air, the column branched out over the landscape, dividing like roots.

Melissa felt like she was on fire. Heat blazed over her flushed body while her intense orgasm burned through her. The coagulated blood shooting out of her gaping pussy flaked over the landscape, grabbing onto every available space with offshoots of countless tendrils.

Collapsing, Melissa's body went limp. The organic structure jutting from her body crumbled into dust, sending her plummeting beneath the waves. With a splash, she felt herself sink upwards. Her world turned upside down as she sank and sank, unsure which direction she was falling until she lost consciousness, encased in blackness once again.

~

Melissa came to, drenched in blood on the basement floor. The candelabras flickered weakly, their waxy inhabitants reduced to small stubs. Next to her, the Sanguinomicon felt cold and lifeless, but Melissa had never felt more alive.

Peeking under the limp cover, she felt a pang of remorse. The voluminous pages were burned through like a red-hot iron had pierced them. A blackened hole gaped down the center, a mess of occult symbols and calligraphy.

Gently closing her companion, she gave its spine a final stroke before gathering her backpack containing her state id card and all five dollars in change she owned. Looking up at the exit leading to the outside world, she made up her mind. Naked as all are born, Melissa took a deep breath. Gaining her composure, she walked up the staircase, leaving her ruined clothing behind. A light rain drizzled over her as she flipped open the trapdoor. The storm had passed.

Melissa didn't know where she was going, but she knew it wasn't home.