Witch of the Wild Woods Ch. 05

Chapter 5 - Spiders

She tasted of desperation and electricity. There was a feral urgency to her kiss and searching hands as the lithe girl continued to press Lane deeper into her. For someone who appeared centimetres away from death a moment ago, the girl had strength to spare. Her soaking wet, nude body grappled onto a petrified Lane. He was far from his virginity, but in this particular moment his higher brain still functioned faster than the one between his legs.

With a gentle hand, Lane attempted to push back far enough to gasp for air, "It's not that I don't appreciate the gesture, but maybe dinner first? Or, your name?"

"There isn't time," She pleaded, and wrapped her arms ever tighter around Lane's neck. Lane could feel her body shutter as she entered once more into their kiss: tongues colliding, breath combining, and hearts racing. There was physical reciprocity sure, but the exchange was mentally one sided. Lane knew the motions. His lips knew how deep or gentle to push against his partners'. His hands knew where to travel along those slight curves and verve ass. He knew. However, Lane's mind kept its distance from the moment. He was still looking for signs of trauma, injury. He ran through the script of how to best save this girl; hypothermia, delirium, overdose? What did he need to do to make sure she survived?

What did she mean, 'Marked?'

Lane broke off from the kiss and started searching the girl for marks, wounds, scratches. Her pearl white body appeared undamaged. Her modest chest heaved as she panted for breath. His hands attempted to pry the woman off himself to better examine his patient. She was stronger. Far stronger than should have been plausible. Her grip, tighter. While Lane's mind was distracted in the academic, literal physical care of this stranger, the woman proceeded to pull Lane's leather belt from its loops.

She savagely rolled Lane onto his back with a growl and moan. The sheer strength and animalistic want in her eyes was intimidating. Lane's attempt to lean up was easily and quickly thwarted by the woman pinning his shoulders down onto the cedar deck, hard. The force nearly knocked the wind out of him. Her shaking hands tore apart the buttons holding Lane's fly together before peeling his jeans down to his hips.

"You know, it's fairly obvious," Lane said breathlessly, "You're not so helpless--"

Her eyes were still so dilated, fixed upon his; "I'm marked. You have to help me. Help me. Please. Please, Lane--" She planted another deep kiss onto his lips, then several rapid, passionless kisses greedily inhaling his taste.

Lane clamped her head in his hands, trying to hold the girl at bay, "I'm Lane. Yes. Who, Are. You? What's your name?"

"Alice," She spat out, "There's not much time left. He's coming for me."

Alice slipped through Lane's finger's. Her long silvery hair, tinsel that refracted light from the window and churning bathwater. Her hands kept Lane pinned down at the waist and chest. Her head swiftly dove down equal to his hips. Her teeth grabbed hold of and wrenching down the seam of his boxers.

What would Luna do in this situation? Lane thought as he felt himself pass through the girl's lips. Her head bobbed feverishly. A devilish tongue swirling around nerve endings that lit up his mind like fireworks. He hadn't even been fully conscious of becoming erect until Alice had taken his entire length in her mouth. Perhaps he should take Uncle Dan's advice, 'Live in the moment?' After All, this was a rather unique moment. Obviously an exciting moment to say the least. Usually it took some time for any of his relationships to bloom into something physical. Lane and Luna had often pursued partners for both continued and casual relationships. Never could he recall any of those past prospects pouncing on someone in heat without so much as an introduction.

She didn't wait for consent, Lane gasped as a jolt of discomfort struck his brain miraculously moving faster than his hips were subtly thrusting up off the cedar deck into Alice's mouth.

"Alice, wait!" Lane gasped. She opened her mouth wide, grinning, delirious, as she readujsted to position her sex directly over his. Her wetness dripped upon his hardened cock. He felt her heat and Alice's bristling bush over his tip.

Before Alice could guide Lane's hardened shaft into herself, he kicked himself out from under her. His body slid uncomfortably on the slick floor for about a metre until skidding to a sudden stop. He reached down and swiftly pulled his pants back up to his waist. His shaking fingers had barely managed to button his fly back up, manoeuvring his erect cock back into his undershorts. Alice was undeterred. She reached out and grabbed hold of Lane's hands, slowly prying them apart.

"Lane, please! I'm Marked. It's the only way." Alice begged.

Finally, Lane felt some semblance of control. He switched tracks, recalled his other training; easily slipped from Alice's grip, only to reach out and brace her hands together. She may have been unnaturally strong, but careful application of leverage and physics easily halted Alice's ravenous advance.

"Alice, I don't know what kind of trouble you're in, but it's best we resolve whatever it is before we get further... Involved. Deal?" Lane was almost hyperventilating, soaked, and still fully aroused. He couldn't think of a more compromised position to be in. He could barely think at all. "Let's get you dressed and we'll talk about how exactly you're 'Marked'."

As Lane desperately attempted to regain his composure, Alice's change in countenance was so abrupt that it stung worse than her open palm colliding against his face. She'd slipped from his grasp, and struck him so hard, Lane nearly doubled over. Holding a hand to his burning cheek, Lane heard Alice's bare feet slap against the floor. One of the bathroom stall doors burst open and slammed shut. Then, the tears began to fall.

---

Daylight, pine scent, and a sharp breeze that shook the trees gradually brought Lane out of his state of panic. He'd caught his breath, breaking from a jog to a sudden stop at the grey steps across from the bathhouse, Lane propped himself up on the wooden railing. He cracked his knuckles and counted backward from ten. He needed to get centred, but anxiety coursed through his body like a downed powerline in a storm: wild, dangerous, disconnected.

"Howdy, Lane!" Came a familiar, ecstatic voice approaching the cabins from the dirt path. Lane nearly jumped out of his skin. Still breathing heavy Lane could only manage a weak wave as Jude Abidalli continued toward Lane. The man practically had a spring in his step. "Glad you could finally make it, bud."

"Finally?" Lane panted out, "I'm... We got here an hour early?" Lane checked his watch. His heart skipped a beat as he swallowed hard: an hour late? He couldn't have possibly been in the bathhouse for a full hour. Why, he'd only just left Luna-- Luna! He'd left to go get her pain meds a whole hour ago? He went from feeling anxious to horrendous. How could he have spent an hour with some stranger?

"Whoa, somebody just had sex!" Came Luna's voice way too boisterous behind Jude.

Both men now watched as the girl waddled her way up the dirt path towards them.

Lane scrambled to turn the conversation around, "Jude, my apologies, we'd arrived here early. My sister needed some pain meds, I got turned on-- Around! I got turned around and lost track of time. Where is everybody meeting?"

There was a moment of weighted silence as Jude's grinning face examined Lane. With a click of his tongue and chortle, the camp director stated, "The infirmary is to the left of the Great Lodge. I'll open it up for you. That's your Jeep out front in the camper drop off section?"

"Yeah, that's us," Lane admitted. Good, he sighed internally, we're moving past whatever just happened in the bathhouse. Which was nothing. Nothing happened.

Luna had wandered up the steps to stand beside Lane. She ruffled her brother's damp hair and looked Jude over. Cocking her head to one side, she asked, "What's up with your shirt there, Jude?"

Lane blinked back the last of his panicked stricken nerves and inspected the camp director's outfit for the first time. Tan hiking boots. New. Unscuffed. Tattered, soot covered blue jean shorts. Nothing out of the ordinary except for the black soil and ink covered graphic t-shirt of a lion. It was one of those photorealistic screen prints of a male lion, mid roar, smeared with some viscous black liquid.

Jude smiled and half heartedly attempted to wipe away some of the grime, "Well, good news and bad news. Good news is, our newly built patio deck on the great lodge is finished. We'll have meals outside under the sun and stars. Bad news, a family of raccoons found themselves trapped in the vents inside the lodge. They died. A whole family, dead, mucking up the air filters. So, Doc and I, our groundskeeper here, had to crawl in and fish 'em out."

Luna looked to Lane and raised an eyebrow. Convenient.

"Dead raccoons?" Lane repeated, sceptically.

Jude shrugged, "Happens. Possums, raccoons, little critters just love getting into places they don't belong and making a mess of things. What can you do, right?"

Luna threw up her arms in mock bewilderment, "Fish 'em out of the vents I guess?"

"Exactly," Jude boomed enthusiastically.

"So, about that shirt then?" Lane queered once more. Those eyes of the lion, albeit covered in mysterious inky gunk, continued to burn into Lane's mind. There was something unnatural about this shirt. Something sinister.

"You're right, can't kick off the summer orientation looking like this. Gross, right? But, now that you're all officially here, we can start our camp counsellor meeting. Why don't you two go park your car in the staff lot, then meet everyone down at the Lakeview Amphitheatre? And let's bring that Trillion Pines Magic to life!" Jude took several bounding steps away before halting, pivoting, and making an awkward dash back to Lane.

"By the way, bud," Jude spoke in a stage whisper with unnerving giddiness, "This is a family camp. Best to keep those 'urges' under control, if you catch my drift?"

Lane was about to protest, but Jude had already given him a firm pat on the back and sprinted back down the dirt trail toward the Main Lodge. The Twins waited a moment after the Camp Director turned the corner out of sight.

Luna smirked, "So, who was she?"

"Who was she?" Lane repeated, still suffering a mental whiplash.

"Don't play dumb," Luna scoffed poking her brother in the side, "The girl? The one who gave you the dazzling ABF Hair. Or..." Luna gasped with excitement, "Have you finally popped your man cherry? Has our Lane found a young man worthy of his love?"

Lane looked behind him, hesitant to go back into the bathhouse. He wasn't afraid. Rattled. Certainly weary of what he'd just walked out, or ran away from. He kept his eyes fixed on the heavy cedar door, "First, no. There's no boy. When there is, you'll be the first to know. Second, I think whoever is in there still needs our help-"

Luna gasped and fanned her face with her hand like an old southern belle, laying the French accent on thick, "My word Lane, what has become of my dear brother? I didn't think you'd ever want to broach the subject of sharing someone-"

"-That's not at all what I meant." Lane spoke in a hushed, expectant tone. He clenched his fist as if at any minute, the girl with the silver hair would emerge and resume her attack. That's what it felt like. Not a random romantic encounter. There were parallels being made here. The panther, the wolf, and now the lion? Something sinister was forming around them and the roots of madness were beginning to take hold. A dark mystery was afoot.

Mysteries were fated to follow them to the ends of the earth.

Lane lamented that he'd made a promise that would have to be broken.

Luna took hold of Lane's shoulder. Her playful tone vanished, replaced with a protective, almost animalistic growl, "She's still in there, isn't she?"

Lane nodded.

They both watched the door intently for a moment more, then Luna took off like a shot. Before Lane could protest, his sister had already reached the door and shoved it open with her shoulder. Luna stood in the entryway like a hound off its chain; scanning, sniffing, waiting to sink her teeth into her prey. But, there was no one to be found.

"Nothing," Luna whispered, disappointed.

Lane had gathered enough courage to approach the doorframe of the bathhouse and stood behind his sister; "She was here."

Without turning to acknowledge his presence, Luna agreed; "I believe you." She pointed toward a bank of slim, open windows above the bank of toilets. One was opened slightly wider than the others. Lane desperately wanted to reach for a fresh page on one of his palm-sized notebooks and outline the facts, suspect description, motives... But, he couldn't. He wouldn't even ask permission. He wouldn't know how to. His mind desperately needed to be reorganised and focus on some kind of task. Sadly Lane could only think of the electric shock from the girl's tongue making its way down his throat surging through the rest of his body.

Alice. Marked by something, by someone, for some reason...

She'd left her mark on Lane.

"We should get going," Luna whispered. She turned to her brother and placed a hand on his cheek still red from the slap; "Are you going to be okay?"

He nodded.

He lied.

Together, The Twins jogged back to the cul-de-sac in front of the Great Lodge. Back to their Jeep. Luna was livid, but her anger wasn't directed toward her brother. If anything, he needed a good lay to unwind that increasingly uptight mind. What had Luna fuming was the inevitable truth; there was no escaping their fate. Another dark mystery had once again settled over them like a thunderstorm ready to release its fury.