Taken by Darkness Ch. 01

Even now I wonder about the strange circumstances that brought me here, to this Gothic cottage house beyond an unexplored forest at the edge of untouched lake. Located firmly within a plot of privately owned land it was perfectly secluded from the outside world and its chaotic trappings.

Its true I came to this private realm to escape the world and its banal assault on my sanity. Disgraced in my occupation while what I thought was a divine romance turned out to be a failed experiment in love. I freely turned from the wreckage and the fires of my former life to blindly run toward the promise of a refuge.

I should have been more specific in my request for what I truly desired was a bit of peace and quiet and what I got was anything but. Had I been more descerning in my requests I don't believe I would've entered into conversation with the immaculately attired little man gave me the map and key that brought me here. His only asking price was that I remain until he met me there three months hence to relieve me of what I understood to be house sitting.

This place is more than separated from civilization, It is a sorcerer's looking glass into things that defy the loosely knit logic of society's physical laws. I have dreamed with my eyes wide open and been shook to my core by equal shares of terror and pleasure. The effects of this house have blurred all the lines that once stood between variations of emotional experience.

I am walled in on the West by this savage woodland and taunted by the still waters of an expansive lake to the East. The hours of daylight, that feel all too brief, are shrouded by a fog that seems to fill the air without rest. Coupled with the unnaturally chilled nights that bring echoes of indecipherable beasts, I admit that such an environment lends itself to paranoia but my experiences are too real...

The solitude was at first very conducive to the rest I sought, the large bed on the second floor seemed crafted by Morpheus himself. Perhaps it had been but not in benevolence as I had first supposed but rather as an experiment in nightmares. I remember floating in the rapture of a carnal fantasy, feeling a woman's touch with all the realism afforded by the physics of dreams and then the cold grip of terror.

My eyes opened to see a lithe and youthful woman bathed in the alabaster glow of the full moon, straddling my prostrate in a pose reminiscent of gargoyles. Her eyes seemed filled with a starless night and her grip that pinned me thus was heavier than her mass should have allowed.

Her skin upon mine was cold and seemed to leech the warmth from my flesh while stealing my breath before I could summon a repose. Her mouth, though small, was possessed of full lips that curled back then to reveal elongated and razor sharp canine's that very quickly fell on my neck.

Barely a moment passed for me to imagine the mythology of the vampire before her bite stung me and I became lost in that kiss that gave rest to my fear and life to my loins. With each beat of my heart, her kiss drank deeper of me and her flesh traded its icy countenance for the heat of lust.

Saddled by her thighs that now radiated with warmth siphoned from my blood, my manhood rose to meet her now blooming Venus flower. As she sat up and enveloped me to the hilt with her thrusts, I was struck by the sight of her lips richly painted by my blood.

Her hips rocked forward and back on my enslaved cock, gripping me in a velvet vice that I rose to meet again and again with all the fervor of madness. Her fingernails drew cuts in to my chest that welled with my blood for her to lick from me, an act that healed my wounds for the sole purpose of reopening them.

Amid frenzied writhing and my own gasps of labored passion, I saw the crimson trails of her wicked thirst streaming from the corners of her mouth, down her chin and neck, across her breasts and to her torso. It was warm sticky, smearing as our bodies collided with obscene sounds in the dark.

My strength seemed gone from me and yet my body attempts to keep its hedonistic pace as if my lust were a fever, nailing to my doom. When I thought myself lost she cut the soft flesh between her breasts with her index nail and brought my head there to drink. Buried in her chest I licked and sucked at the opening she had made as if it were the opening that was presently filled with my dick.

Her blood was hot and sweet like the vaginal nectar that I was accustomed to. My muscles and limbs awoke refreshed as I tasted her and with reinvigorated power I rolled over, pinning her to the bed. I held her ankles above my shoulders and pounded my need deep inside her, illiciting her first aural signs of pleasure: soft soprano moans draped in a faint hiss.

As if transformed, I rode into her with a virility and pleasure that until then I had thought unreal. Wave after wave spiraled through me with each thrust in to her deceptively fragile looking form. Her eyes that I had initially taken for nights darkest blue were in fact a deep red, something clear to me now as she watched me fuck her with a bloodstained smile of satisfaction.

I howled with a fury that frightened what little sanity was hiding in the back of my mind as I fucked her with her legs against my chest and her ankles at my ears. I quickened in the final moments before ejaculating within her as part of an orgasm that shook my senses loose and pulled them back slowly with vibrating threads.

My body quake kept me high and senseless as it happened but I woke up after having been thrown across the room, apparently in response to my filling her with something besides blood.

When what passed for daylight in this place returned, I was beaten, bruised, and covered in congealed tracks of my own blood. How much easier it would have been to accept my memories as fanciful dreams without the evidence covering me. I doubt the ability of anyone on the outside looking in to fully appreciate the symphonic harmony pleasure and pain that had been composed within me.

I spent that day in perpetual delirium, pacing the length of the house again and again, both longing for and fearing the return of my assailant. This written record will hopefully be of assistance in wading through the madness that has taken me.