tagErotic HorrorCrow's Path Ch. 01

Crow's Path Ch. 01

byVaginalpuppetry©

First thing I should probably mention is that this story is definitely erotic horror but could easily fall into other categories as well. There's a bit of mind control as well as some non-consent, though nothing graphic. The second thing I should mention is that this is mostly an experiment. I've never written in chapters before, so if there's a positive response to this then I'll certainly continue to write! Last but not least I want to thank ElectricEmber for serving as my volunteer editor! With nothing further, I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

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Chapter 1

The island was alive tonight. Alive in ways that it had never been before, and in ways that were never intended. The tropical landscape that had guarded its secrets for decades, now gave way to towering hotels and paved roads. The quiet night sky was now hazy with light, not from the stars above, but from the man-made lights below; illuminating the new resort for its many guests so that their frivolity could continue well past sundown.

Few places remained untouched or undiscovered, and fewer still were those areas where peace and serenity remained. There is one such location, a narrow cliff near the island's center, part of the dormant volcano that created the earth beneath. There are no roads or trails that lead to this secret place, yet the careful observer might still catch a glimpse of a lone figure standing idle and watching over the island below. And, if one were able to see at such a distance, they would find that the gaze of this particular figure was not happy with the current state of their home.

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Claire had only been on Festival Island for four days, and at twenty-one, she had only assumed that from the moment she first arrived she and her friends would party endlessly until their week was over. Now, however, she was realizing just how exhausting her vacation could be.

The very first night she arrived, Claire and her friend Jen had hooked up with a pair of very cute twins they met at a beach bar. The second day had been nothing but roller coasters and thrill rides until they finished throwing up all the alcohol from the night before. That night, they all spent several hours replacing the lost alcohol in their systems and successfully seduced another willing group of young men, with a game of strip poker, in their hotel room. By the third night, Claire was certain that this would be the most memorable vacation she would ever have, and with the encouragement of her friends and a bottle of vodka, she blew through nearly a quarter of her savings in one of the many island casinos before wandering back to her hotel room alone, but happy.

It was now the fourth night of seven and Claire was already feeling winded. Her friends all seemed to be suffering as well but not nearly as much as she. Still, they had managed to convince her into another night of dancing, drinking, and debauchery. Claire checked herself in the bathroom mirror, in the hotel, where her friends were currently prowling. She had squeezed into a tight green dress that accented her curves better than the band t-shirts she was used to wearing. Her black hair was straight tonight and her lipstick was a shade of red rarely seen on innocent women. Luckily for Claire, innocent wasn't the look she was going for.

It would have to be an early night for Claire, however. Her eyes were undeniably tired and it was clear that everyone was pushing their luck with their own sleeping habits. With a few jibes from her friends, Claire left them just before midnight to return to her room. She knew well enough that there would be more comments to follow the next day, and it was still possible that Jen would stumble in that night with another boy to play with, but none of that would matter to Claire as long as she could get a few more hours of sleep before getting back to the action.

It was a short elevator ride up to her room on the ninth floor. It wasn't the nicest room in the hotel by any means, but still a sight better than anything she could have afforded on her own. She took a moment to appreciate the view that came with it. Her balcony faced toward the north, not to the beach but to the mountain, at the island center. It wasn't a bad view at all, not with the dazzling lights that covered the tropical landscape. She couldn't help but smile as she imagined what adventures would await her the next three days.

She began to turn away from the window when something caught her eye. At first, she assumed it was one of the lights reflecting from the window pane, but as she turned back to look, she could see that it wasn't a reflection at all. Something was on the mountain, something pale and dim but with an unmistakable glow. It reminded her of the old television she had shared with her sister; the kind that would emit a glowing residue for several minutes after it was powered off.

Claire heard movement in the hallway behind her, someone laughing in a drunken fit after stumbling out of the elevator. She turned momentarily to the source, wondering if her roommate had returned early. When the footsteps and laughter passed by her door, Claire turned back to the mountain, only to find that her mystery light was no longer where she left it.

There are mysteries in life that one can't help but ponder for hours on end. This, however, was not one of them as far as Claire was concerned. Shrugging her shoulders she turned to the bathroom. This would be the first time she would have unrestricted access to the shower, and it wasn't an opportunity she planned on passing up.

The dress came off more easily than it had gone on, falling in a neat pile around her feet with just the tug of a zipper. She stepped out of her heels and left the garments there to be collected later. With no one around to see, Claire felt confident enough to unclasp her bra and slip out of her panties before she reached the door, enjoying just a few seconds of naked freedom without the greedy eyes of some random guy looking her over like prey.

She checked her figure in the mirror. Girls tend to find flaws where none exist, but Claire was sufficiently happy with her self-image as it was. Her legs were smooth and lean, with just the hint of a thigh gap to keep her from self-loathing. Her hips were somewhat boney at her waist, but at least her breasts were still perky in their youth, even at her lower cup size.

Hot water feels much better, when you're tired. Claire stepped past the glass door of the shower and let the steam prepare her body for the warmth to follow. She didn't bother with the soap immediately, instead choosing to enjoy the heat as it flowed over her and brought life back into her body.

She faced the tile wall and rested her head against her hand as she leaned forward. The water washed over her back and bottom. Claire would be lying to herself if she didn't admit that one of the reasons she refused to move was because, at this angle, the dripping water was almost as satisfying to her womanly needs as an actual lover. She let the sensation continue for a moment before remembering that she was completely alone to do whatever she wanted. Little other convincing was necessary before she slowly slid a hand over a breast, teasing her nipple just for a few seconds before traveling further south.

A moan escaped her lips as her fingers began the familiar ritual, so soft and subdued that she actually forced herself to moan louder the second time as a reminder that nobody was around to stop her.

Her back was still to the shower door and she didn't sense it slowly opening by invisible hands; nor did she notice the way the steam parted around an unseen figure as it moved into the shower behind her.

Claire didn't notice anything at all, until it was too late. Her hand was pushed out of the way, and before her startled surprise could manifest itself into words, Claire found herself paralyzed. It wasn't true paralysis as one might expect; rather she suddenly felt unable to control any of her actions. She wanted to turn and confront whoever had disturbed her, but she found herself unable to look behind her. When she did move, it was only forward, against the wall with her palms supporting her weight.

Claire could still feel the intruder behind her, pressing against her with his or her weight. Whatever had moved her hand away was still lingering between her legs, but she was unable to come to terms with what it could possibly be. At first, she had assumed it was a hand, but now it almost felt more like a tentacle of some kind. The more she thought about it, however, the more at ease she seemed to feel despite the strangeness.

In fact, Claire was quickly feeling less and less bothered by the intrusion at all. At first, she had wanted to scream, but found herself unable as if her throat were numb or dry. Now, however, she felt calm and at peace with what was happening, even though, in the back of her mind, she knew that something was terribly wrong with this situation. She was still moving more or less against her will, though it was hard to tell what was forced at this point, because everything seemed to feel so calm and scripted in her mind.

She arched her back and pressed her bottom against her unknown visitor. Her eyes were now able to move somewhat freely, though the only direction she could focus for the time being was down. Claire looked at the floor at her feet and for some reason, it didn't strike her as alarming or odd that there was no other pair of feet visible behind hers. She could feel the appendage still groping her inner thigh, but again there was nothing to be seen except for her own skin.

Whatever fear remained in Claire was now being overpowered by such strong feelings of calm and bliss that nothing else mattered. Claire knew what was about to happen as if by instinct. The ghostly force between her legs continued to explore her for a minute before finally seeking refuge within her body. She moaned louder than she had previously as her intruder pushed inside of her. She was still aroused from earlier which made things much easier.

There was a slight pressure on her hips, ghostly hands taking hold of her body. Her eyes were dead and unblinking, all thought now lost to the actions taking place. The thrusting began, slow and methodical thrusting in and out of her body. It wasn't the hardest fuck she had ever received, but certainly not the most gentle. There were a few more moans from Claire, but for the most part she did little more than rock gently as the sex continued, her breasts pushing against the wall in a steady rhythm.

Claire wasn't certain how long she stood there. It had actually only been about ten minutes, but in her state of mind she would have calmly remained there for ten hours if need be, enjoying the sensation of being penetrated by an invisible member. Ten minutes, however, was all that her intruder required. She had paid little thought to any actual pleasure during the act thus far, yet now she felt an uncontrollable urge to orgasm. She gave in to her body's demand and the climax that followed was unlike any she could recall. Every emotion in her body was suddenly replaced with ecstasy. Her legs buckled beneath her after being unable to move for so long, and the contractions of her lower muscles pushed bliss to every last corner of her being.

There was an unmistakable throbbing sensation mixed into all of this. Whatever had slid inside of her was now enjoying a similar experience. Had her mind been clear, Claire would have vaguely recognized that the orgasm she was feeling inside of her was stronger than any she had ever experienced from a lover. Like the appendage from which it came, the seed that filled her body was invisible to her eye, but there was no denying that her visitor had left her with a gift so large that her walls alone would be unable to contain all of it once he withdrew.

For what seemed like an eternity, she stood there, dutifully accepting her reward for her obedience. This was how her mind translated the situation to her in that moment. Not as an assault or a violation, but as a gift. Her questions and fears were now lost in a sea of ecstasy, her orgasm still lingering as the withdrawal finally occurred. It wasn't a feeling of something leaving her body so much as it was a sudden and unexpected emptiness where there had clearly once been flesh. It was so sudden and unexpected that Claire instantly snapped out of her paralysis and collapsed on her knees in the water, a gasp leaving her lips.

It would be two hours later before Jen would return from her night of partying. She stumbled through the door in a fit of laughter, dropping her keys loudly on the table before turning to pull her newest victim through the door by his arm. They locked lips and his arms were already lifting the dress above her head when Jen noticed the bathroom door was open and the shower was running.

Sensing an opportunity to embarrass her roommate, Jen winked at her lover and brought a finger to her lips in a gesture of silence. They slowly tip-toed over to the door, where Jen intended to charge in and surprise her naked friend.

She counted to three before barging in. Whatever words she had planned to shout died in her throat as she took in the scene. Claire was sitting in the shower with her knees up to her chest. Her eyes were unblinking and completely focused on an indiscernible spot on the shower wall. Her skin was a shade of blue. Something was clearly off.

Jen turned to her lover and forced him back out the door before closing it behind her, now sober with worry, as she approached her friend. She opened the door to find that the water was ice cold.

"Claire?! CLAIRE!"

Jen shut off the water and shook her friend. It was only after she gave a firm smack to her cheek that Claire blinked back into consciousness. She began to shiver for the first time despite having been in the cold for almost an hour. She looked up at her terrified friend.

"I'm chilly. I think I'll go to bed now." Without any further explanation, Claire stood and stepped out of the shower. She didn't grab a towel, nor did she attempt to cover herself or find clothing as she walked into the bedroom and past the stranger that was waiting for Jen to come undress him. She crawled into her bed with wet hair and snuggled the sheets close. She drifted to sleep almost immediately, a smile etched on her face.

The stranger in the room looked back to Jen for an explanation, only to find her looking more terrified and worried than ever. Not wanting any part of this, he stepped past her and left the room.

TWO DAYS LATER

Jacob Crow had only ever left his country three times in his life. The first had been in college during a trip with his roommate and at-the-time girlfriend. It had been relatively fun as far as he could remember. The second time had been during a trip to Alaska with yet another at-the-time girlfriend, in which they had decided to drive through Canada. The third time was occurring right now as he took his first step off of the boat and onto the freshly fabricated dock of Festival Island.

The island itself was located in the South Pacific, part of the Polynesian chain of islands. Technically speaking it was claimed by the United States and privately owned and operated by an American citizen. It made little difference to Crow. Sand and palm trees were as foreign to him as kangaroos. He missed the city already.

There were few reasons Crow could think of to leave the comfort of his home. Near the top of this list was a devotion to duty, and a ridiculous sum of money. Both of these had been used as motivation to land him where he currently stood. Not that this was all that bad.

Jacob was in his late twenties now. His brief career as a police detective had ended badly, when a scandal had ripped apart his department. He hadn't been involved, but by the time the investigation was complete it was clear that he was as unwelcome in the community as any of the actual criminals. Rumors hurt reputations the way bullets hurt flesh. You may live through it, but there will always be a scar to scare everyone away. After that he had dabbled in one of his favorite hobbies: paranormal investigation. That didn't prove as lucrative as he had hoped. Eventually, Crow bit the bullet and applied for a license as a private investigator.

The work had been about as boring as you can imagine. Insurance fraud and cheating spouses were the name of the game. Luck alone had saved Crow from a lifetime of barely scraping by. When the police had given up on the search for a missing woman, the family had come to him for help. Sensing that her disappearance was not as simple as the local law enforcement agency had speculated, he began to piece together clues for himself.

Two months later Crow found the missing woman, not sipping drinks in a bar with her not-so-secret affair, but buried in a poorly dug grave barely ten minutes away from her own house. Suddenly clients were lining up at the door to beg his services and his record of discretion earned him a modest living at age twenty-nine.

Twenty-something seemed to be the age to be in this place. Crow's eyes were always wandering, constantly aware of his surroundings. His current surroundings included a substantial amount of young women in summer attire. Bikinis and shorts as far as the eye could see.

Crow wasn't here for vacation however. His purpose for visiting Festival Island was much more grim, though he didn't yet know to what extent. The invitation had come as a bit of a surprise to him, he had to admit. He was accustomed to receiving requests in the mail from far flung places around the country, but never had anyone asked him to actually leave the mainland. Many would have simply tossed the letter aside without further thought, but experience had taught Crow to read every bit of mail sent his direction. Death threats weren't uncommon in his line of work.

The invitation had been lengthy in details. The gist was the same as every other he'd received. Someone, somewhere, had a mystery that needed his attention and the local authority was either ill equipped to handle it or simply couldn't be bothered. What drew him into this particular case, however, was that this mystery was unlike any he'd ever heard of.

Aboard the plane Crow had had plenty of time to think about the case. He already had a few theories in mind, many of them not quite worthy of his time or effort, but this particular invitation came with an all-inclusive stay at a yet-unannounced resort island. A vacation seemed to be in order given his recent working habits. His assistant, Samantha, took her place next to him as they joined the crowd moving away from the pier and into the resort itself.

"I don't think I've ever seen water this clear before." Her eyes scanned the beach as they walked.

"Perhaps you should talk to your landlord about the quality of your bathwater."

"You know what I mean!" She gave Crow a playful punch to the shoulder.

Samantha, or Sam as she preferred to be called, was the only other employee in Crow's practice. Technically, she served as his secretary, sorting through his clients' paperwork and scheduling appointments. More recently, however, she had been joining him with certain investigations as a way of possibly stepping into the field herself. Most of her work was still in surveillance and minor tasks, but Crow couldn't pass the opportunity to give her the vacation she deserved.

Looking around at the college coeds flocking around him, Jacob knew that Sam would fit right in with the crowd. She barely came up to his chest at her height, though admittedly he did currently stand at a healthy six foot one with a runner's build. Her chocolate eyes were framed in black plastic glasses. Chestnut hair fell in soft waves down to her shoulders. In the office she was required to dress professionally, but this usually consisted of skirts or dresses that showcased her legs all the same. Crow hated to admit had become a bit of a distraction.

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