Elvira: Family Secrets (alt ending)

Elvira screamed too, her mind overloaded by the second weird and monstrous encounter in a matter of hours. Outside, she could hear Algonquin barking and howling and she immediately regretted kicking him out of the house...but not as much as she regretted coming to Fallwell in the first place.

With no time to think, she just reached out and smacked her hands on either side of Chastity's chest, hidden under the frumpy floral fabric. The force sent the prehensile penis shooting back up into the air, turning end over end. Elvira looked up, trying to figure out where it was going to land so she could catch it.

Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough and all she managed to do was put her face in the perfect position for the thing to land, head first, into her half-open mouth. This seemed to be exactly what the cock wanted because instead of trying to thrash its way free, Elvira could feel it sliding past her lips and along her tongue, pushing its way deeper. It seemed to grow larger and noticeably warmer...and she recognized that familiar, salty taste on her tongue. The same thing she had tasted when she licked the weird salami locked away in her aunty's attic.

This was the last straw for Chastity as Elvira staggered around, trying to pull the bodiless cock out of her mouth. Still shrieking her head off, she ran from the room and out the front door, leaving Elvira to fend for herself.

Trying to keep her footing as the thick cock strained her jaw, expanding and contracting against her tongue. Fortunately, she wasn't exactly inexperienced when it came to giving head, so she was able to avoid choking on the fat cock, but she normally preferred a little bit more warning when it happened. She stumbled her way to the kitchen, barely keeping her balance on her high heels as the thing slurped its way in and out of her mouth.

She hurriedly yanked at a drawer, accidentally pulling the whole thing out and spilling utensils all over the floor. Her eyes were starting to water, mascara running, as the cock in her mouth pushed its way deeper, almost cutting off her air as it forced its way towards the back of her throat. Blinking away the tears, she crouched and fumbled through the pile of cutlery on the ground before grabbing a pair of kitchen tongs.

Staggering back to her feet she clamped the tongs around the wriggling end of the cock protruding from between her lips. It was slippery with a mixture of saliva and slime, causing the tongs to slip free several times. She could feel the cock pulsating, seeming to grow even larger as it throbbed against her tongue.

No, you fucking don't! She managed to get a firm grip on its "tail" with the tongs, leaning against the counter to support herself, and gave a sharp yank on the monstrous dick. She was too late.

It erupted in her mouth, a thick gout of salty spunk shooting against the back of her throat as the cock came. The thing's girth muffled her angry cursing, turning her foul language into an indignant gurgle. With another strong yank, she finally pulled the thing free, still jetting cum (colored a disturbing pale green). The streams of jizz caught Elvira in the face, nearly blinding her and thick droplets splattered over the pale skin of her dress.

"You..." Her words were interrupted by a fit of coughing as she choked down the semen filling her throat. "You nasty little creep! I never swallow on the first date!"

Well, almost never. She admitted to herself. Mostly.

Rather than withering away like a normal penis, the ejaculation seems to have only increased the cock's size. It was definitely longer and thick veins stood out all along its length. It waggled obscenely from side to side as it strained to free itself from Elvira's tongs, still leaking droplets of greenish cum from its tip.

"You're not going anywhere!" She snarled, making her way to the sink. Aunt Morgana's antiquated garbage disposal had already claimed one monster tonight, so why not two?

It took several minutes of shoving but Elvira finally managed to force the wriggling monstrosity into the sink and slammed the switch on the garbage disposal. There was a loud grinding noise as the overworked rotor spun, accompanied by a disturbing, high-pitched whistle emerging from the cock's tip as it struggled to escape the drain. The powerful, whirling blades were too strong and it merely spun, flopping round and round, before finally being drawn down the sink and sucked down.

Turning on the hot water, Elvira peered under the sink...she could hear the thing struggling to escape, even after being shredded by the disposal. The pipes shook as it groaned its way along the rusty plumbing before finally the sound of it faded, swept away into the sewers.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Elvira shut off the water (keeping an eye on the sink for several minutes...just in case it attempted an escape) and picked her way over the pile of scattered cutlery and spilled semen on the kitchen floor.

The kitchen was a mess. The living room was a wreck. There was demon jizz in Elvira's hair.

"That's it. I'm taking another shower then I'm going to fucking bed."

***************

Deep beneath the foundation of the Talbot manor, in the depths of the Fallwell sewer system, a copper pipe shook and groaned. With a final moan of distressed metal, it disgorged a thick, green-and-red sludge that plopped out in meaty clumps.

The sludge fell on top of a pile of shredded meat that hadn't yet been swept away by the slow current of the sewer. The pile included several jagged bone fragments, sharp teeth and even a mostly intact eyeball: the remains of Elvira and Bob's "dinner".

As the soupy material splattered across the pulverized demon corpse, it began to move. Spreading and growing, like a giant, mutated amoeba it began to slither over the pile of meat. Enveloping it completely, the mass started to swell, glowing softly red in the darkness of the sewer.

************************

Elvira

The voice was a quiet whisper carried on the night air that drifted through the half-cracked window of the Talbot manor's master bedroom. Elvira lay sleeping on the giant bed, thoroughly showered for the second time that night. She had worried that she wouldn't be able to get to sleep after everything she had seen that night...but the moment her head hit the pillow she had gone out like a light.

Elvira

She rolled over in her sleep, pulling free of the thin blankets. She was naked, not feeling up to putting on her sleeping dress and the moonlight filtering through the gently waving curtains gleamed off of her pale skin. She reached down, scratching her butt through the blanket which still covered her waist.

"C'mon Sister Mary...don't be a NARC...just give me ten more minutes." She murmured grumpily.

Elvira, wake up.

"Fuck off...'m tired..."

You must wake up...you are in great danger.

Elvira pulled a pillow over her head but it didn't do anything to silence the voice.

Elvira, you must wake up.

"WHAT?!" She finally sat up, anger burning away the fog of sleep as she hurled her pillow across the room towards the source of the unseen voice. She was still too groggy to wonder who was in her room.

The pillow flew through the air and passed through the translucent figure floating above the bed without any resistance. It was a woman. Her long red hair and her white gown flowed around her as though she were floating underwater and her legs slowly faded into transparency.

"A-auntie Morgana?" Elvira recognized Morgana Talbot from the painting that had formerly graced the living room. The one that had been shredded by the bizarre intruder.

Yes, heed me, Elvira. You are in great danger.

Elvira was rarely at a loss for words but this was one of those times. As frustrating as it had been, Bob was right...today had been a lot to take in. And now her dead great-aunt was hovering in the air at the foot of her bed. She could only stare at the ghostly figure, marveling at how much she looked like her.

Finally, she managed to speak. "Uh...how's it hanging, Aunt Morgana."

It wasn't the most articulate greeting, but it had been a long night.

Elvira, listen. You have awoken a great evil.

"Hey, you're the one who woke me up." She grumbled, still not entirely absorbing what was happening. "And do you have to start every sentence with my name? It's weird."

Listen to me, child. The creat-

"Okay, 'child'? Seriously? That's definitely not an improvement."

The windows swung open as a gust of wind rushed through, causing the curtains to whip wildly back and forth. The wind had the scent of rain and ozone and the moon darkened as thick thunderclouds began to roll in. Elvira's hair was caught by the breeze as it swirled around the room, scattering loose papers and rattling the drawers of the old furniture. Morgana's specter floated higher, her eyes flashing with fury.

I said LISTEN!

Elvira's hair was blown back by the force of the ghost's anger and she wisely fell silent.

That's more like it. I came to warn you...you are in great danger. The thing you unleashed tonight will consume you utterly if you do not do as I say.

"Wait, you mean that awful little dildo monster? I got rid of it already."

You cannot kill Incubus so easily, Elvira. You have banished him, but he will return.

"Incubus?"

An ancient demon. His power is the source of our family's legacy of witchcraft...but also our greatest curse. Your mother and I sealed his spirit inside that box before you were born. But now you have released him once more.

"Hey, don't look at me like that. Maybe if you have put a big label on it that said 'warning, evil demon cock' maybe I wouldn't have gone digging around!"

Would that really have stopped you?

"Well...I mean, maybe."

Morgana simply hovered there, giving Elvira a doubting look.

"Okay, let's not get judgey miss 'I sent you to a nunnery'. I still don't know about how I feel about that. Those nuns were the tightest, driest bunch of-"

Elvira. I sent you away to protect you from my brother...but Incubus is far more powerful and far more dangerous.

"Look, I was already planning on skipping town tomorrow and trust me, tonight has not changed my mind one bit."

You will not be able to escape Incubus by leaving Fallwell. He will pursue you wherever you go. His hunger is insatiable and he lives to seduce and corrupt the women of the Talbot family.

"You call that seduction? I've seen better seductions from a subway flasher. The guy just jumped straight down my throat."

Your bodily fluids awoke him and he needed more to regain his true power. When he returns, it will be in a new form and he will tempt you with pleasures beyond any earthly lover. I...many women of the Talbot family have failed to resist him.

"Well, if I can't run away and shoving the fucker down a garbage disposal didn't work, what else am I supposed to do?"

You must perform the same ritual I did to seal his soul away once more. His power is concentrated in his phallus and in his foul seed. With an athame, you must sever his member and perform the final ritual in the book I left you. Only then will you be free of him.

"Wait, slow down. Sever? With a what?"

An athame, a sacred knife. Like the one you used to pry open his box. You must be ready, I can already feel him gathering his power.

"Well, that's just great. I don't even have time to sleep?"

You already have.

"What?"

You already have.

With a start, Elvira sat up in bed. Her hair was bedraggled, she hadn't had time to properly dry or wrap it before falling asleep the night before. The window was tightly shut and faint daylight could be seen through the curtain. The clock on the bedside table said it was almost 2 PM, but the sky was dark with thunderclouds and heavy rain was pattering against the glass.

There was no sign of her aunt Morgana.

"Well...that's just great." She groaned.

**************

Dead Witch Creek was a small local waterway that ran a few miles outside of Fallwell city limits. It was a small, muddy river that ran only a few feet deep for most of the year but rain could make it easily two or three times deeper. As the thunderstorm over Fallwell dumped sheets of pounding rain onto the surrounding fields and hills the creek was almost overflowing its banks.

Sticking out from the muddy wall of the riverbank was a large sewage outlet pipe, only a few inches above the rushing water. The pipe was currently spewing a steady stream of water, collected from the storm drains of the town, directly into the creek. Its mouth was covered by a set of rusty iron bars to prevent small children or large animals from crawling inside.

Lightning flashed, illuminating a shape crouched beyond the bars. It was questionably human...its proportions and joints fitting together in ways that were subtly wrong. As the lightning was echoed by the sound of thunder the shape reached out one arm, wrapping long, spindly fingers around one of the rusty iron bars, each digit tipped with fingernails that were just short of being claws. Thin skin stretched over its joints, with gaps were greyish-green muscles could be seen beneath, as though the creature didn't have enough skin to fully cover itself.

The fingers tightened and there was a groan of tortured metal, barely audible over the sound of the storm, as the iron bars warped, bent and finally snapped apart under the terrible strength of the creature. When it dropped the broken bar from its hand, finger-marks could be seen pressed into the metal before it vanished beneath the rushing waters of the creek.

The remaining bars did not fare much better and one by one they were torn free of their mounts and tossed out into the water. Once the mouth of the pipe was clear, the creature slowly wrapped those long, horrible fingers around the edge of the pipe and pulled itself free. Its form was barely visible, caked beneath layers of mud and muck from the sewage.

It slipped into the creek, the thick layers of filth slowly peeling off beneath the rushing water and the pounding rain. Its claws dug into the muddy surface of the riverbank and it slowly began to pull itself up. Rising up to its full, unnatural height, the creature turned, facing towards the lights of Fallwell, barely visible through the rain.

Over the sound of the thunder and the rain, a wet, cruel chuckle could be heard.

******************

"Where the hell is it?"

Elvira was muttering to herself as she shifted around cobweb-choked furniture in the dusty attic. The attic was filled with the sound of rain pattering on the roof. The storm had moved past Fallwell and now only the occasional, distant growl of thunder could be heard in the distance.

"At least this rat heap doesn't leak." She growled, tipping over a large, overstuffed chair. She leapt back in surprise as a squeaking family of mice emerged from the cushions and scampered off into the dark. "Well...mouse heap I guess."

She was looking for the knife she used to open the box, the so-called athame that Morgana had talked about. She had already overturned most of the furniture in the attic and while she had found a variety of dead birds and cockroaches, there was no sign of the knife.

"C'mon Auntie Morgana, would it kill you to do some housekeeping up here?" She shifted a small cabinet full of moldering crockery. "It was somewhere over here I think..."

She raised the oil lamp, trying to get a good look at the place where the knife had fallen. The faint pool of light cut through the shadows, revealing a vent, covered by a set of thin metal slats...just the right size for a small knife to fall through.

"No...no, no no!" Elvira rushed over to the vent, a dread certainty growing in her heart. Holding the lamp over the grating, her worse fears were confirmed. The vent opened into some kind of deep ventilation duct and, at the bottom, she could see the glint of light on shiny metal. It was too far down to reach, at least eight or nine feet to the bottom.

"C'mon! Can't a girl catch a break for once?" Elvira turned up the light of the lamp and, sure enough, she could see the athame, the tell-tale shape of its pentagram hilt shining in the light.

"Well, now what am I supposed to do?" Even if she opened up the grate there was no way she'd be able to get the athame all the way at the bottom. She'd need to get a repairman or someone to get the duct open and pull the knife out...maybe Bob knew someone she could ask? But was there even time for that?

Sitting on the side of an overturned dresser she picked cobwebs from her hair with a deep sigh. The heavy, leather-bound 'recipe book' was by her feet so she picked it up, wondering if there was some way the athame could be replaced.

"Aether...alchemy...oh, aphrodisiacs, I'll keep that one in mind later...astral projection...here we go, athames." Her finger ran down the page of hand-written text. The page was illustrated with a picture of the knife almost exactly like the one laying at the bottom of the duct. "Athame. A ceremonial knife for the performance of magical rituals and symbolic acts of separation. The Athame must have a black handle and its blade must be marked with a pentagram."

Remembering Morgana's words in her dream, Elvira flipped to the back of the book until she found a page titled merely Daemonium Incubus. Her eyes widened slightly at the illustration on the page.

"Wow. That's some heat he's packing." Her finger unconsciously traced the oversized phallus on the demon's picture. "No wonder he's gotten Talbot biddies so hot and bothered."

Reading over the instructions for the ritual, her brow furrowed and she frowned in consternation.

"Wait...so I have to inscribe a symbol with...yon demonne's wicked seed, what drippeth from the beasty's obscene and turgid member..." She mouthed along silently, trying to put together the text's meaning through the obtuse and outdated English. "So I need demon spunk?! What the hell, aunt Morgana?! Maybe you could have told me this before I took a shower last night. How am I supposed to get some now..."

"..."

"..."

"...Oh." She rubbed her forehead as the pieces finally fell into place. "Great. That's just great. I'll just give him a porno and tell him to fill up some tupperware, shall I?"

She slammed the book shut, coughing on the cloud of dust it kicked up, before heaving a deep sigh.

"What do I do now?"

*************************

It was early the same evening, the light fading early behind a shroud of stormclouds, when a dark, lanky shape approached the wrought iron fence encircling the back yard of the old Talbot house. The rear gate of the property was locked, wrapped in thick steel chains and padlocked shut. Elongated, knobby fingers, covered in withered skin and tipped with black claws, wrapped around a length of chain and began to pull. There was a brief pause, a futile second of resistance, before the metal gave way with a loud, ringing crack. Shattered chain links, deformed by the creature's strength, fell to the ground. The hot metal hissed and sputtered as it splashed onto the damp ground.

The iron gate slowly opened, its rusty hinges groaning in protest, and the figure stepped through. It wore a long, brown trench coat that barely concealed its monstrous appearance. The hem of the coat was spattered with rust-colored bloodstains...mementos of the coat's original owner who had parted with it less than an hour ago.

The figure stalked through the weed-choked lawn towards the freshly-painted, but still dilapidated, hulk of the Talbot manor. Thorny vines tugged at its coat, revealing flashes of sallow skin stretched too tightly over long, bony limbs. The creature's clawed, digitigrade feet tore through the thorns with no sign of discomfort.