Hunter's Moon

She was running for her life, stumbling in the mist. Her legs dragged behind her like anchors; her lungs burned and her head throbbed. She gulped fog; it stung her eyes and clogged her throat.

It was all there was to breathe.

'Just a matter of time before he catches me,' she realized with mounting terror. The creature that had been a handsome young man a half hour earlier was gaining on her. He could have easily run her down by now. Unlike her, he was not tiring.

He was toying with her, waiting to make the kill.

'Stupid, stupid, stupid!' she thought. She had never seen him before; she didn't even know his name, but he was so good-looking and charming with his wavy brown hair and hazel eyes...

So, naturally, like a starry-eyed schoolgirl, she had agreed to leave the Halloween party and drive out to the fog drenched woods to fuck him.

'Stupid!'

She had sucked him off and swallowed his cum. She'd gotten him hard again, and he had talked her into letting him ass-fuck her. He was huge; it hurt like nothing she'd ever experienced, and he had brutally pushed her face down in the back seat to muffle her screams. He came hard, and she could feel a hot, sticky mixture of blood and semen drooling from her torn asshole as she lay face down and sobbing on the car seat.

Then the full moon had risen...

Somehow she had escaped from the car as he was Changing, and now she was running naked through the woods in sheer terror.

She could hear the otherworldly howling of the werewolf shivering through the skeletal shadows of the bare trees. The wail sent goosebumps coursing down her arms and back. The sleepy sounds of the night trailed off and ceased, as if all of nature realized that an unholy, unnatural predator was loose and on the prowl.

"Help!" she screamed hysterically. "Somebody help me!"

She flailed aimlessly through the murky night. The dewy grass seemed to writhe sluggishly underfoot. Tendrils of tattered, clammy fog streamed forward, eager to clutch her in their grasp, and plucked at her wearily churning feet; the billowing mist disoriented her. She had emerged from the woods and was back on the road, with no idea whether she had been running in circles.

Then she realized she had been doing just that.

She was back at the car.

A hulking shape loomed up indistinctly before her, blurred and gray in the fog.

God, no! The werewolf had somehow gotten in front of her!

The girl caught a fleeting impression of a massive, wolflike thing, huge as a bear, covered with shaggy brown fur. The werewolf's paws were studded with talons that resembled handfuls of jet black surgical scalpels, and rows of gleaming, razor sharp fangs. Glowing amber eyes that burned like fire fixed on her, and he grinned, dripping scalding drool. His fetid breath gagged her.

"Nooo..." she moaned.

His claws flashed in the moonlight, and her world came apart in a blur of shredding talons and slashing fangs - and indescribable pain. He lifted her off the ground; she kicked frantically, and her ear-splitting screams of agony shattered the silence of the fog-smoked woods as the viciously snarling thing began to tear her apart. He sank his fangs into her right shoulder and drove his claws into her breasts and legs, and then shook her savagely as he mauled her.

He dropped her face down on the hood of the car.

The girl hung precariously on the knife-edge of unconsciousness. Her left breast dangled by a thread of flesh, and her insides spilled from the gruesome wound that had been her belly. She could feel the heat of the cooling engine radiating up through the metal against her left cheek, against her horribly mangled body. Out of the corner of her eye in the moon-soaked fog, she could see glistening torrents of her blood streaming across the hood and disappearing over the side. Her sense of color drained away, and sluggish, muffled thunder roared and buzzed in her ears.

Suddenly the creature's leathery paws grabbed hold of her hips, and she moaned as his talons sliced into her flesh for purchase. He stood behind her; she could feel his muscled, furry legs pushing between hers, forcing her to open herself to him.

Over her shoulder she caught a glimpse of the creature's huge penis, sheathed like a wolf's. The pink shaft was as long as her forearm and as big around.

'God, no! He wouldn't...'

Something probed between her inner thighs, and she screamed in agony as he thrust to the hilt into her dry cunt. He savagely pumped into her as the buzzing grew louder and louder until his hot cum blasted into her womb...

She screamed and sat straight up in bed, trembling violently. Her breathing was rapid, ragged. Her hands were tangled in her sheets, her body drenched in sweat. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Simone Delacambre stared numbly around her darkened room in the park lodge, whimpering, wondering where her tormentor had disappeared to, and when he would emerge from the shadows again...

The buzzing continued unabated. She turned her head toward the noise, spying the clock flashing in time to the incessantly rasping alarm..

"Shut up!" she cried.

Simone angrily slapped off the alarm, then began to rock back and forth in the bed, tightly hugging her knees to her body, sobbing softly.

The nightmares had never really gone away, but they hadn't been this bad for many months. Since the beginning of October, however, they had been more vivid, more intense, more real - as they always were this time of year.

This afternoon had been the worst.

They were always the same - vague, surreal, and terrifying. She was running through nondescript, fog shrouded woods, chased by a beast from hell. The images ended when the werewolf started to...when he began to...

She shuddered; she couldn't even bring herself to think about what the creature was doing to her at the end of her nightmare.

The thing had raped her...

Whatever this obssession was, it surely had to be more than her imagination, because something drove her to come to the same place every Halloween - Tanglewood Hills State Park on Route 56 in Middleton, Indiana.

"Maybe this year you'll find some answers, Simone," she whispered aloud. "Like who you really are..."

She had awakened four years ago in a Chicago hospital. Her driver's license said she was Simone Marie Delacambre, age eighteen, and she lived in an elegant house in the posh Glenview Estates gated community in a suburb of Chicago. She had apparently inherited enough money from her parents to allow her to live comfortably for the rest of her life.

And she could remember none of it - who her deceased parents were, what they looked like - she only had pictures - who her friends, if any, were, what her life had been like.

The only constant in her life was that every year she was driven to return to this place at Halloween, like the swallows flying back to Capistrano. It was instinctive.

She had no idea why...

Simone glanced at the clock. It was 5:06 pm. She'd called Professor Swanson to let him know she was going out of town, and that she wouldn't be at his evening class at the university tonight. Then she allowed herself to sleep as late as she possibly could, to prepare herself for this evening.

Halloween.

And this Halloween was unusual. It was the night of the second full moon of the month - the Hunter's Moon - the brightest full moon of all, aiding hunters who stalked their prey on this night.

Simone showered quickly and toweled off, ruffling her short hair with one hand. She caught a glimpse of her naked form in one of the lodge suite's one-way tinted windows as she padded across the floor, and she studied herself critically.

She still had her youthful complexion, which was nice, because it allowed her the luxury of a make-up free, no-maintenance look. She was beautiful; she had a firm body, slender and supple, with pert breasts. 'A dancer's body,' she mused wistfully, and wondered where that thought had come from. Her jade green eyes contrasted strikingly with her burnished auburn hair.

Simone turned heads everywhere she went; she'd had many suitors in the last four years, and even though she'd been strongly attracted to one or two of them, she had not allowed herself the luxury of a relationship. There were too many question marks in her life; she did not want to add any more.

And she had other...issues that would have gotten in the way.

She glanced at the costume she had bought, thinking she might attend the annual lodge Costume Dance party. 'Sexy Vampire Bride,' the label on the package read. It was a translucent white gown with a very low cut bodice, slit up one side.

She doubted she'd be using it now; she wasn't in the mood.

Simone dressed quickly. She pulled on a black turtleneck and a lightweight midnight-blue nylon windsuit, and slipped on a pair of comfortable hiking boots. It was a touch on the chilly side, but she didn't want to overdress, either. This outfit would do just fine.

She opened the drawer of an end table and lifted out a compact little 9 mm Beretta automatic. It felt good in her hand; she pulled back on the slide and chambered a round into the pistol. It had a fresh clip of silver bullets and was ready to go, so she slipped it in a jacket pocket. She glanced at the tinted window. The sun had just slipped below the horizon.

Good; time to get moving.

Time to go hunting...

*****

The werewolf crouched in the shadows behind a thick tree trunk, tensing, ready to spring. He watched his prey intently. They were coming closer - a gaggle of costumed high school girls walking down the path, laughing and chatting, unaware of what awaited them. Closer...closer...now!

With a ferocious roar, he leaped out in front of them, landing with inches of them, his claws extended overhead, his fangs flashing. The girls screamed in unison and paled, and high-tailed it off in the opposite direction.

One of them cried, "Oh, no - I pissed in my pants!" and they all started giggling and slowed to a walk.

"Ha!" the werewolf called after them, clapping his paws together. "You call yourselves brave? You wouldn't last five minutes in the Haunted Forest!"

Charlie Tuttle pushed up the left sleeve of his furry costume and glanced at his watch. Good - two minutes until break time! He wore a realistic, terrifying costume, modeled on the "American Werewolf in London" creature, just like the life-sized werewolf movie prop in the corn maze. But the yak fur that made it so lifelike also made it extremely hot on a balmy night like this, and he was sweltering behind the hideous head mask. Time to cool off and get a quick beer, then off to the corn maze.

He grinned.

He'd been playing a werewolf here for the last ten years, since high school, and he loved every minute of it. He especially loved scaring the pretty young girls. Maybe he'd meet up with that last batch of little cuties again when he went out to the maze...

The 41st Annual Middleton Halloween Haunted Farm and Forest was in full operation. Tonight was the last night they were open, and as usual business was booming.

There was something for everyone. The barn was for the little kids - Disney characters and benign ghosts and goblins. The Haunted House was not for the weak of heart. Scary and spooky, with flashing strobes and black lights, cobwebs, realistic spiders and rats for props. All manner of creatures wandered its halls - Frankenstein's monster, Dracula and assorted vampires, the Wolf Man, and zombies and ghouls.

But the Haunted Forest - that was the place for hard-core scares.

Out here, the makeup and masks were extremely realistic and lifelike. So were the stage blood and "wounds," and gruesome stage props and body parts. Eerie red and blue spolights were strategically placed on trees and in bushes, and a fog machine lent atmosphere to the setting. Like the haunted house, the forest employed flashing strobes and black lights, and artificial webs and arachnids and vermin.

However, thanks to the proximity to the state park, sometimes real spiders and rats paid a visit to the site. Especially squirm-inducing were the big, black tarantula-like trap door spiders.

The monsters here meant business, too.

Patrons were required to sign a waiver before they entered the Haunted Forest. Most of them laughed nervously - until they realized that it wasn't a joke. The most common -and embarrassing - mishaps over the years had involved wet underwear, but occasionally smelling salts were required.

And once, they'd had a near cardiac that thankfully turned out to be a panic attack.

Michelle Eriksen self-consciously signed her waiver and handed it to the attendant at the admissions table, who was dressed as the Grim Reaper with a real scythe coated with blood.

Real scythe, but fake blood - she hoped.

"Nice costume," the Reaper grunted.

The pretty blonde blushed. She had been working late on a project at Our Mother of Hope High School, and had come in her school uniform - white blouse, blue and green plaid skirt, and forest green blazer.

Her best friend Gina Carrera snickered.

"Yeah, the 'Catholic high school girl' look is really hot this year," Gina retorted, then whispered in Michelle's ear, "especially with dirty old men. They can just bend you over a table, pick up the back of that short little skirt and ass fuck you!"

"Giiii-na!" Michelle protested. "You should talk! Like your costume won't get them hot!"

Gina grinned wickedly.

"If you got it, flaunt it."

Gina had it, and she did.

She was clad in a sexy, slinky red vampire's gown, form-fitting and clingy, slit up both sides with a neckline that plunged almost to her navel. And she had the body to go with it. Her huge breasts strained against the tight fabric, and her hard nipples stood out like bullets.

The two girls presented a striking contrast. Michelle was wholesome, girl-next-door pretty with short, honey-blonde hair, while Gina was slutty - a dark, sultry Italian with a voluptuous figure and sensuous face. She had darkened her eyes with cork and slipped a convincing set of fangs over her canine teeth. Her raven tresses tumbled in blue-black ringlets to her shoulders.

They started down the wide, mulch-lined path that led into the Haunted Forest, falling in step with the other thrill seekers. The spooky sounds of ghosts and wolf howls and blood curdling screams emanated from speakers throughout the woods.

Michelle sighed.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this, Gina," she murmured. "I should be home studying for my Anatomy and Physiology midterm."

"No, no, no, no, no!" Gina cried. "You are going to start having some fun if it kills you - and me. Please tell me you are going to the prom this spring. Last year you turned down three different guys from St. I's. Any girl in the junior class would have killed to go out with any one of them."

"Well, I just didn't..."

"Shhhh!" She pressed a finger over Michelle's lips. "Shut up! You are a very pretty girl; guys go for that well-scrubbed, innocent look. You know you like Brad Landis, and he's still mooning for you. Say yes the next time he asks you out. Would it kill your perfect 4.00 GPA to have some fun once in a while - and would a 3.99 kill you?"

"I want...I need...to be valedictorian," Michelle replied. "I want to be a doctor."

Gina sighed.

"You're hopeless, you know that? Shelley, there are thousands - millions - of doctors in the United States. They couldn't all have been valedictorians!"

"You don't understand, Gina," Michelle persisted. "If I'm valedictorian, I can..."

"Stop it!"

They stood in the spooky, flashing blue fog that was gathering, lit from beneath by ground-level floods, while bats squeaked and ghosts moaned.

"Listen, Shell Belle - I'm not saying you should turn your back on your dreams, but a night out once in a while ain't gonna kill ya! Next year you'll be in college, and there will be *gasp!* boys there! You won't be able to hide behind the all-girl battlements of OLH with its lesbian nuns and female teachers - oh, I did forget that horndog Mr. Gutzwiller, the lone male instructor, but he's an aberration."

Michelle sighed.

"Your point is?"

"For being so damned smart, you can really be dense sometimes," Gina replied testily. "Between your grades and your near perfect SAT scores, you'll be able to write your own ticket. You've already won like fifteen scholarships. How the hell many do you want? You can afford to let your hair down and have some fun once in a while. Go out with some boys, for crying out loud! I worry about you."

Gina squeezed her friend's shoulder.

"I don't want you to wake up one day when it's too late and regret you didn't have more fun while you were a kid. At least for tonight? Lighten up and have a good time? Please? And don't go sneaking away from me and head home like you usually do?"

"Okay," Michelle answered with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry. I know you mean well."

"Good! Let's go, then. I gotta warn you, though - if you thought the haunted house was scary, you ain't seen nothin' yet. They've got Frankenstein, Dracula, Wolf Man but they also have heavy duty psychos like Leatherface, Pinhead, Jason and Freddy, and Michael Meyers."

"Michael Meyers?" Michelle echoed blankly.

"Hell-o-o? Ever seen any of the 'Halloween' movies?"

"Oh, yeah - the guy who wears the white William Shatner mask." Michelle giggled. "William Shatner's scary enough for me."

They turned to head down the path just as Leatherface lunged at them, revving his noisy chainsaw. The two girls screamed and ran into each other; their legs got tangled and they almost fell down. Leatherface growled something inarticulate and moved on, looking for new victims. Before they could move, Frankenstein's monster clomped toward them, huge and scarred and green, on big, built-up boots, reaching for them as he snarled in convincing Karloffian tones. He seemed almost tame by comparison.

Michelle was visibly shaken.

"Gosh, they look so real! Hard to believe they're make up and masks."

"Well, they are," Gina affirmed. "The props are locked up at night and insured for a bundle - especially the corn maze werewolf. It's a life sized model of the werewolf from 'American Werewolf in London.' Cost them about $6,000.God, that thing is terrifying! I stumbled on it last year, and I needed a change of underwear. Literally scared the piss out of me!"

"Ohhh... I saw that movie on DVD. I couldn't finish it, and I slept with the lights on for two months after that. The werewolf scared me to death! I don't know if I'm ready for that."

"Ah, you'll be fine. A little terror is good for the soul. I heard the werewolf cost them around $7,000, but it's worth it. Wait until you see it!"

The corn maze was indeed highlight of the Haunted Forest. Somewhere in its twisting pathways waited the life-sized movie prop of the werewolf. It was moved from place to place, sometimes several times in the same night. Hideous and covered with realistic-looking yak fur, it crouched on all fours, eight feet long from its snout to its back claws. As unwitting visitors stumbled across it, they triggered flashing strobes and a horrifying roaring and howling on a CD loop.

The full effect was cardiac-inducing.

"There's a guy who wanders around in a costume from the movie, too. He's even scarier because he jumps at you. Incredible costume."

Suddenly Freddy Krueger was in their midst, roaring at them as they screamed, shoving his horribly burned, disfigured face right up into their own. He tipped his fedora hat back on his head with a finger of his clawed leather glove.

"So...I hope you pretty little ladies sleep well tonight. 'To sleep, perchance to dream.' And that's when I'll GETCHA!"

He danced away, cackling maniacally.