In the House of Spite Ch. 14

Author's Note: Warning. There will be some gory stuff in this chapter, but it's not going to be in any sex scene. I don't play that way.

***

Outside, in the dark, Pearl shined her flashlight. One hand was on the handle of her gun, which was still in the holster. At first, she thought she needed to find a river, but then she realized that a van had been driven to this place. There had to be enough space for the van to get in, which meant that if she followed that empty space she'd eventually find roads. Roads were even better than rivers sometimes.

A quick look in the van showed that the dead man was still in there. Nobody had dealt with the body as they were meant to. Where were those kidnapping scumbags?

Pearl sighed and looked around. Trees. Trees and more trees, but she found a gap and tire tracks in dirt and rocks. It wasn't even a dirt road, but it counted. Her new manly boots crunched as she walked.

Quiet, but not fully quiet. Bugs and stuff. Sometimes a far off animal growled, shuffled in leaves, or even howled. Those sounds didn't frighten her too much, although she was concerned that some wild creature with rabies might attack her.

Her inner Little Red Riding Hood voice told her to stay on the path. Always stay on the path. This wasn't a stupid old rule that was told by out of touch Boomers. When lost, you either stay where you are, or stay on a path. Pearl was in a situation where she needed to get out, so she stayed on the path.

No paved road yet. There was only the rural, informal route. Dirt and rocks.

Something slithered across, making her stop and gasp. It might have been a snake.

Pearl made sure she couldn't see any other possibly intimidating thing and then continued.

The loudest growl yet made her stop again. She even hopped in place. She turned her flashlight to the direction of the noise. Nothing was visible, but she did hear a man scream.

But then ... she saw someone emerge. A running man hollering in rapid Spanish, probably Beads. Pearl couldn't understand him, but she knew it was one of her kidnappers.

Pearl whipped out her gun and cried out one of the few Spanish phrases she knew. "¡Alto!" That meant stop or halt. She also said, "¡Tengo un arma!" She was pretty sure that meant, "I have a gun." Pretty sure, not one hundred percent. Your average three year old Spanish speaking person knew a whole lot more than Pearl.

She thought she could intimidate him with the concept of being shot.

It didn't quite work, the man screamed something else. Pearl only recognized one word.

Demonio.

Demon.

Whatever he meant by that, Pearl didn't care. She shot at him. The recoil was tough. The chemical smell was unpleasant. Sadly, she missed, and the man only rushed harder towards her. Pearl circled around him and ...

Forgot about her inner Little Red Riding Hood.

Right in the woods.

She was so scared that she'd turned stupid.

In her stupid mind she thought she could hide in the trees. On the path, she'd be out in the open. She kept looking back. The man, she was pretty sure it was Beads, he did go after her for a while, reaching out, and Pearl did make a few more shots at him.

But she was pretty sure she eventually lost him. His voice faded away. His form was no longer visible to her. Maybe he stopped chasing her, which made some sense. Why chase after a person shooting bullets at you? Pearl definitely wasn't a good shot, but she might've gotten him at some point if he kept going. She wasn't worth that danger, right?

Panting, she stopped and leaned against a tree. She went into her backpack for more bullets.

Demonio, huh? Was he calling her a demon? What a whiny bitch! Kidnap a woman and then you call her a demon? How very Christian of him! And yes, she considered Catholics to be Christian, just another flavor. Anyone who said anything different, in her mind, was probably falling to the No True Scotsman fallacy. But that was her opinion, and Pearl didn't know everything.

She was ready to go again. She carefully put her gun back in the holster and looked for that route she'd been on. Then she thought, "Even if I find it, that piece of shit will be out there." Maybe she needed to go in a different direction, sort of following the the path, then return to it?

She needed to find the path in the first place, right?

But ... she'd already forgotten what direction she'd taken when she'd fled into the woods!

Wait.

She blinked. Her fingers drummed on her flashlight.

Demonio. The ending of that word sounded masculine. Spanish was one of those feminine and masculine languages. While there were exceptions, the general rule was that masculine nouns ended with the letter o and feminine nouns ended with a.

Did the word demonio have a special feminine version that ended with a or did it stay in its original form no matter the gender of the demon in question?

God damn it, had that guy been talking about her or not?! Why the fuck hadn't she ever bothered to learn more Spanish growing up?!

Thunk!! Crackle!! Coughing, choking!!

Behind her?

Pearl's flesh felt like it rippled.

Get the FUCK back to the route! If you see Beads or anyone else that could fuck you over, shoot!! That's what her brain screeched at her.

She weaved through some trees.

A growl! A heavy, gritty growl!

To her left now!!

How ... how could she not look?

She turned her head and light to the source.

Big ... furry ... thing? Claws on ... hands?! Standing like a man?! Thick legs, massive, canine-like feet. Dangling near the feet ... a mess of blood and trailing intestines, partially coated in dirt and leaves!! A worming, hellish figure, a man with his belly ripped open!

A bearded face distorted by agony.

Hairy?!

There was an uneven path of blood following the scene.

Blood on the beast, on the clawed feet, even on the clawed hands. Up, more blood, on the humanoid torso. On the throat. On the ... the face. The face that was a combination of human and something else. The face with a long tongue and blood sliding around on long, hellish teeth.

SHIT!! SHIT!! SHIIIIIIIIIT!!

GET THE FUCK OUT YOU DIPSHIT!!

Her mind was urgent, hissing and hollering at her body, but she thought of all the different sorts of advice she'd heard and read.

If you turn around and run, you'll get chased. That's how a lot of predators worked.

Carefully, only looking back for a second at a time, Pearl moved her feet. Backwards, she was going backwards, all while the bloody beast remained on its hind legs and stared at her. There were pointed ears roughly where a human's ears would be, and they were twitching.

Whatever that thing was thinking, Pearl hoped it would keep it up. She wanted him to be confused, wondering what to do, so she could have a better chance to get away.

More and more, bit by bit. Distance. Pearl needed distance.

Her blood felt so cold. She was shaking. The light was shaking with her.

Her foot slipped over a loose rock. She fell on her ass, right on a thick tree root.

She panicked a little, but she managed to hold onto everything, turn around, and run. She'd gotten enough distance between herself and the beast, or she thought so. Or perhaps, she could no longer bear the tension. Perhaps she needed to run.

Sploshing water. Was there a river nearby? Maybe a pond?

Her hair was caught by a tree branch. She had to stop and tear herself away. The pain in her scalp made her eyes water. It even made her sneeze. She moved on.

When she glanced back, she couldn't see the beast nor the dying, disemboweled man. Okay. She could keep going.

Find the damn path, then find a road. Forget about Beads and Hairy. They were just dudes. Whatever that thing in the woods was, it was obviously a much bigger threat.

Get to a road. Find a house. Beg the occupants to call the police. Report everything. That was a plan, a good one, or it felt good. It kept Pearl focused, held her off from a nervous breakdown.

Her heart felt like it was trying to break out of a prison.

When she thought she might be close to the path, maybe, she paused and put a hand on a tree. She had to. Her legs ached from carrying the heavy boots. Despite the warm weather, her breath was grainy and frigid.

She felt that she needed a moment, just a little moment. The beast was distracted by his meal. Why waste time and energy going after a tiny thing when he had a bigger, meatier thing under his creepy feet? Predator logic one-o-one. Conserve energy. Don't waste what you have.

Wet dog. Up her nose, in her lungs. Wet dog. She didn't want to smell it, but it was there.

Her free hand went to her gun's handle.

From behind, her wrist was taken and pulled up. Whatever it was, it was too fast for her. The gun was swiftly yanked out of the holster. The only reason she knew was because she heard the metal against the leather. Wailing, Pearl was able to twist herself out of the unknown grasp and run off. Let it have the damn gun! Maybe it'll shoot itself. She had a spare anyway.

Running again. She had to run. She felt stinging in her arm. She might've been scratched by claws. Fine, whatever. Better than having your organs on the ground.

Her stolen boots were so loud. It was likely that she'd broken quite a few twigs and maybe some other things.

Eventually, she stopped, and not of her own free will.

A massive arm hooked around her waist from behind and pressed her against a hot, damp form. Some moisture seeped into her clothes.

She was lifted up so quickly that she couldn't figure out a way to break free. It was so impressive and terrifying. Her flashlight fell and practically disappeared. The air rushed against her. She was carried off! It didn't matter how loud she got. It didn't matter how she moved. No jabs with an elbow would stop this thing. No kicks either. She couldn't even position her head well enough to put in a desperate bite.

How far were they going?! This creature was moving around the trees like it had been greased up or something. It was like the trees were weak noodles, unable to harm the thing.

It felt like it was taking ... forever.

She tried to calm down. She shouldn't waste her energy when she couldn't do much.

Stop?

Her body had a bit of whiplash as her new captor suddenly stopped.

She heard ...

A door? Like a truck's tailgate? And a more delicate, but still almost mechanic sound, like a window creaking. Pearl was then put inside something.

An air mattress covered by a bed-sheet and a comforter. It smelled and felt familiar. She still couldn't see much, only the occasional vague shape. She looked ahead to the tall thing in the outside world.

A voice?

Gruff, rough, gravelly, hissing.

"Safe! You're safe!"

Then it seemed to reach out towards her.

"Don't touch me!!"

She'd been expecting the thing to grab a limb, but it took the strap of her backpack and it tugged it away. She felt the claws lightly graze her through her shirt.

"Give it back!" She shuffled forward, but one of those hands went to her shoulder.

Images of gore ran through her, making her think she shouldn't fight this thing.

"Safe," it growled.

The beast let her go, opened the backpack, and sniffed inside. Then he pawed inside. He pulled something out and seemed to manipulate it. Something heavy fell to the ground.

Oh ... god. He was making sure the gun wasn't loaded.

He dropped the gun, leaving it on the ground. Then he tossed the backpack back to Pearl.

All these actions and words from this creature pointed out one mind blowing conclusion.

This was a person.

Was he from a secret science experiment, or some underground race that hid from the government?

Pearl called out, "Hey!" She leaned on what she thought was a wall, but then she figured out she was inside a pickup truck's bed and there was a bed cap on top. A bed cap was a device of metal, often with windows, that one could attach to a truck's bed to essentially make it look like a van. "Hey! What do you want? Why are you doing this?!"

The beast put the tailgate in place. Then, before it closed the bed cap, he said, "You ... safe."

The bed cap was closed. She heard footsteps move around and past. Then a door opening and closing. And then the ignition and engine.

She crawled up ahead to the back window that separated her from the seats. Through the window, she saw an almost comical thing. A big beast thing just driving a truck like he did it every day. She couldn't see many details. There was the lit up console and the headlights outside. There was the brightened pathway, and then a road.

But it really was dark. she couldn't make out much else.

Calming her breath, Pearl tried to make sense of everything.

What was this person?

Why did it pluck her away?

Was it male or female? What pronoun should be used? She liked to say him/he. Maybe go with that?

Pearl hugged her knees and looked around the dark interior. She puzzled and puzzled, rubbing her itching nose and massaging her elbow. Then she lightly tapped her scratches.

Should she try to escape? Tuck and roll?

She shook her head. That sounded like a good way to break a bone.

A handful of the comforter was lifted up and she held it up to her chest, a new security blanket. This beast person had thoughtfully arranged a comfy little spot for her to rest in. She hadn't been thrown into a car's tight, hot, uncomfortable trunk. She'd been placed in a reasonably spacious place with bedding.

But she still remembered the absolute, bloody mess that man in the woods had been turned into.

She wasn't sure what to do.

Some water and snacks were taken from the backpack. Exhaustion was taking over. She needed something to keep her awake.

It worked for only a few minutes. She was laying down soon, and her eyes closed.

She didn't dream.

***

The sounds of the tailgate and bed cap being opened woke Pearl up. She had a feeling she hadn't slept very long at all. It was still dark. Her body ached, especially her neck and head. She really was a spoiled little brat. Her body hated not sleeping with the proper equipment.

"Come!"

Pearl yawned at the heavy voice. She should've been more frightened, really. Maybe she was too tired to be scared. "Haaaawh!! Where are we going?"

The beast reached inside and gripped her knee. It dragged her along quite easily. Close to the tailgate, her knee was let go, but then she was scooped up by her backside and waist.

She saw that the tail lights illuminated a dirt road. There were more trees on each side, which was very typical. She also saw and felt fur. She was held against the tall monster, carried. Her body and cheek was kept on a firm body. It was then that she thought to be afraid, and she squirmed, but a large hand slid up and down her back and another word was given to her.

"Safe."

The beast sat down on the lowered tailgate, and it arranged Pearl in its lap, turning her body sideways. Her feet and boots dangled in the air. Her messy hair mixed in with the coarse fur. He was much drier now. Again, she thought of the gore. Then she thought, "If something as scary as that has decided not to disembowel you, it's best not to piss it off. Don't fight unless you need to."

A moment later, as the beast's breath increased in speed, she felt something near her thigh, the one closer to the torso.

It wasn't an it after all. It was a him.

And he was ... happy to have her in his lap.

Oh dear.

Her whole body heated up.

His muzzle-like nose and mouth were in her scalp. His puffing sniffs made her think of a curious dog. Pearl held her breath as it happened.

The truck almost bounced as the beast suddenly tightened his hold on Pearl and pulled her back under the bed cap, on the air mattress. How the rubber-like material didn't pop and deflate was beyond Pearl's limited understanding. But there was always the possibility that the comforter helped out.

And, honestly, she was surprised that there was enough room in this tight space for his body. He must've been familiar with this space, knowing how much area he could work with and how much he needed to bend for.

He left her for just a moment, crawling over to the end to close them off from the world.

Even though the concept was frightening and weird, Pearl expected it. She remembered and dismissed certain words that Darren had given her. "And don't ever be afraid to kill or maim. Get rough." No. She didn't want to try. She'd never win. She assumed that if she got out of this alive, and she saw Darren again, he'd forgive her.

No, forgive isn't the right word. He'd understand. He'd tell her it was the right thing to do. He loved her. He didn't want her mauled.

The beast pushed the backpack to a corner and went over her. A blend of scents waved over her. Musk, earth, faint hints of water, grass, and a little spit. His breath felt like a thick mist. Pearl turned her head away and quietly remained in her almost supine position. She briefly considered using her boots to put in an attack, but then she realized that might not work. In fact, it might just piss him off enough to sink his teeth in her throat.

Hot. The air was a little stuffy. Pearl endured. When she felt the claws lightly raking over her, but still not breaking any layers of skin, her breath stilled and her teeth slammed into each other. Painful little waves crashed in her gums and jaw.

Her pants were scrunched up at the boots. The panties had been taken down with them. It was an uncomfortable mess.

He nearly tore the belts on the boots as he removed them. Then the boots and pants were gone. Pearl sobbed a bit, then sucked her breath back in. Her feet curled in her dirty socks.

One of her legs was picked up, his rough, padded hand on her calf. The beast partially bent over as he lifted her lower body up to him, his other hand going to her ass.

In the darkness, Pearl's eyes hurt from how hard she opened them. One of her legs kicked the air. Her hands almost instinctively slapped over her lips as she whined.

A long, wide tongue was repeatedly gliding up and down her slit. Sometimes the fairly large tip would flip and swirl around. There was a near constant combination of growling and humming. There were moments when the tongue retracted, the mouth closed, and her delicate little opening was nuzzled by that curious nose.

She hoped the teeth wouldn't be used. Please, oh please don't bite! Don't be cruel!

Her belly trembled and her toes almost cramped as she waited for any sign, anything that could let her know that she needed to get away, even though she knew she wouldn't be able to.

That didn't happen.

Just a ... soft, strong tongue. The tip was probably the sharpest thing that touched her, and it was so smooth and wet. After a while, Pearl knew her body was pacified. Her limbs were buzzing but loose. More lubrication than just beast saliva was all around her flexing cunt. Her breath was almost too relaxed.

He was soon putting a little more attention to her clitoris, flicking it, teasing it, making her buttocks contract in his palm and fingers. This beast knew how to drive a car, speak English, unload a gun, and make a woman feel pretty good. It was ridiculous but she wasn't about to pitch a fit.

When she thought she was so sensitive she might have an orgasm, the whole process was interrupted. The beast let her down, but then he crawled over her again.

Right on her throat, a wide path of spit, his tongue painted it on. He gripped her hips and held her up.

Other than the fur up against her crotch and thighs, it didn't feel too odd down there.

She was spread, full, and perfectly fine with it, all things considered. The beast gave the most joyful, energetic noises. When he wasn't licking her, his drool was splattering on her.