Y Ladi Wen - The White Lady

Evan opened his e-mails. How the hell were there a dozen new messages since he last looked? At that time of night? He found the draft he was looking for. One more click and he would be free of this miserable office. Well, on his way, at least. He had to be glad of the statutory four weeks' notice, so he had time to find another job. He started reading through the message, just to check the contents. He looked at it often, but hadn't updated it for a while.

He laughed to himself as his cursor hovered over the send button. "Is it too late to try an exorcism? Sending an e-mail to quit my job suddenly seems like the most ridiculous way to fight an evil spirit."

A chill like a cold wind surged through the room causing even Gwen to shudder, and Evan realised his mistake as soon as he made it. Everything was silent. Then, out in the reception one of the lift doors opened and a huge cloud of black smoke billowed out.

"It was a joke, you stupid pig!" Evan yelled, shaking. "I'm not hesitating. I'm not having second thoughts." He hit send on the e-mail. "There. It's done. You lose. My soul is off the menu."

The black cloud coalesced into the nightmarish form, and the Hwch Ddu Gwta stalked towards them. Gwen stood, putting herself between Evan and the sow, spreading her arms wide.

"I don't know what else I have to do," Evan whispered.

The pig let out a squeal worse than anything Evan had heard from it yet, then gurgling up from its throat came a voice even more horrific. It spoke.

Adre, adre am y cynta. Hwch Ddu Gwta a gipio'r ola!

Evan groaned, defeated by sheer exasperation. "For fuck's sake! If I learn Welsh, will you leave me alone?" The pig tilted its head towards Gwen as though to sayThis guy, seriously?

Without turning to him, Gwen said, "you wanted to get of here, Evan, and that's what you need to do. As long as you stay here..."

"...I'm not where I'm supposed to be. Yeah, I get it. But how do I get past that?"

"I'll take it from here," said Gwen as she started walking towards the creature.

"No, Gwen." Evan grabbed her wrist and shivered. "It wasn't supposed to go like this. I didn't want you to have to do this."

She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. "All you have to do is get outside. Run as soon as you get a chance. Oh, and I'm sorry, I didn't want you to see this. Just remember I told you: not a woman."

As she walked away from him, she peeled off her white gloves, and as she cast them aside, they seemed to vanish into the air as though they had evaporated. Once bared, her fingers stretched and grew into long sharp claws. Next, she pulled off her scarf, which also evaporated. Beneath was a faint scar encircling her neck, from which white fog started to seep like visible breath on a cold day. A few steps later, her feet no longer touched the floor. By the time Gwen and the sow met each other, all Evan could see was a whirling white fog, slashing with wicked talons at a shadowy mass enshrouded in a churning cloud of black smoke.

Evan stared in stunned silence for the longest second of his life. Then he ran.

He had to cut a route across the office away from the fighting spirits. He picked his way between the desks, ducking or dodging as the black and white clouds swirled over his head. Halfway across the room, he tripped on an errant chair leg and was snatched up by seething black tendrils. White blades cut across and he was dropped, but the shadows descended on him. Foul smoke filled his lungs and heat prickled his skin. As he looked up, the grotesque pig's snout emerged from the smog over his face, the sharp point of her one full tusk pressed against his cheek. Evan winced and tried to wriggle from her grasp. He watched in horror as the black sow's mouth gaped open.

White talons curled into the sides of the open maw and the creature grunted as its head was pulled back. Evan was able to look up enough to see Gwen's face emerge from the white fog over the pig's head, her golden hair blowing in a breeze of her own making. She was beautiful still, and terrifying too. The Hwch Ddu Gwta shrieked as Gwen sank her teeth into one of the sow's tufted ears. In a voice that sounded like she was screaming into the wind from far away, Gwen said, "let him go, or I will pull you apart like slow-cooked pork."

The sow snarled and turned her attention to Gwen once more, allowing Evan to get to his feet. He sprinted the rest of the way across the office, stumbling once but not looking back. He heard the monster squeal as he hit the stairwell. This time he went down.

He pounded down the stairs, skipping the last few steps onto each landing. His lungs burned from the vile smoke, but he dared not slow down. Seven floors down, he staggered, panting into the lobby. Still half expecting the sow to fly out from the stairs behind him, or from the lift again, he limped towards the front door, emerging into the freedom of the street outside.

He looked up at the building, unable to see what was happening on the seventh floor. Was it over, or were they still fighting?

"Is that it?" he gasped at the night sky. "I quit. I left. What else do you want from me?"

He thought of Gwen, both a beautiful woman and some kind of freezing fog creature. No matter who or what she was, how many times had she saved his life? It was in her very nature to protect him. And now, had he let her sacrifice herself for him?

He was about to enter the building once more when he saw the black cloud pour out of the stairwell. It raced towards him, and he stepped back, missing his footing on the kerb, almost falling into the road. By the time he righted himself, it was on him. The smoke roiled around him, with the creature snarling and snorting somewhere inside. Then, with one last nauseating squeal, the shadowy mass that was the Hwch Ddu Gwta swirled away from him and vanished into the night. Evan stood, staring after it.

"Evan, you're standing in the road," Gwen said somewhere behind him. "Normally, that's the sort of thing I'd be around to warn you about, but I was a little busy."

Evan looked down at the road, then jumped back onto the kerb. Gwen was in her full human-like form. Her gloves and scarf were back, but her dress and stockings were torn in various places and blackened with soot. Her hair was damp and windswept, and there was a cut on her cheek and several on her arms. She wouldn't meet Evan's gaze. He considered her for a split-second before stepping to her and pulling her into his arms. He barely felt the chill. He just wanted to hold her.

"Thanks for saving my life again, again," he breathed as she melted into his embrace. "One night a year you get to freely walk the Earth, and you've spent the whole evening trying to make sure I don't die."

"Maybe that's why I was drawn to you, Evan. We both find it hard to take the night off when there's work to be done."

"Yeah, I don't know if that's going to be a problem for me for a while since I don't have a job anymore. It's over though, isn't it?"

Gwen sighed into his chest. "Yes, it's over. You're safe now."

"Great. So, the bonfire's burned down and it's time to run home. What do you say, White Lady, do you want to come back to my place?" He offered his hand, and she took it.

Evan started chuckling to himself as he drove home with Gwen in the passenger seat.

"You ok there?" Gwen asked, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

"You were a cloud," he said. "Like a big white cloud of fog whooshing about the place."

"Yes. Like I said, I'm sorry you had to see that."

"No, no. Not at all. That's not what I mean." He laughed again. "You can fly! I'm driving you home. You're sat here in the car, and I'm driving you home. But you can fly!"

"I don't understand. Do you want me to get out of the car?"

"No, absolutely not," he blurted. "I'm sorry. It must just be normal for you, and I don't want to be some wide-eyed idiot reacting to each new spirit-y thing like nobody's ever seen it before, and I'm only laughing because it's been such a mad evening, but you can fly!" More laughter. "I mean, if I could fly, and someone offered me a lift in the car, I'd be like, 'nah, I'm good, I'll meet you there.' Whoosh!"

Gwen stared at him with a bemused smirk on her lips. "That's all well and good, Evan. But I don't know where you live."

Evan laughed so hysterically, he almost had to pull the car over.

At home, Evan didn't know whether to drag Gwen upstairs and throw her onto the bed, or to pour a drink and collapse into a chair, but he caught sight of himself in the mirror. The sleeve of his jacket had come loose at the shoulder, and his shirt looked beyond saving. The cut on his cheek from being stabbed with a tusk had been bleeding. He stripped his jacket and shirt, abandoning them on a chair, and led Gwen to the bathroom. He handed her a cloth to wash the black soot from her face and arms and he washed his own face. After his experience with the tailless black sow, he wished he could scrub clean his mind and soul, but luckily the cut didn't seem to require any treatment.

"We should tend to some of these cuts," he said, turning to Gwen. He barely felt the cold rush through him as he touched the scratch on her cheek. Or, he did feel it, but it had become a pleasurable sensation for him now. Gwen leaned her cheek against the palm of his hand, the warmth of his touch still having the same effect on her.

"You could always kiss them better," she said softly.

Evan laughed but turned her face and pressed his lips against her cheek. He watched in astonishment as, with a puff of the cold white fog, the cut sealed itself.

"You can heal yourself?" he asked, trying not to react as hysterically as he had in the car.

Gwen fixed him with her gaze. "No, but you can heal me."

"How does that work?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, any more than you know how your brain works, or your liver."

"There should be a rulebook, or an instruction manual.

"I'm a spirit, Evan. Not a washing machine."

He lowered his head and kissed one of the cuts on her upper arm, which immediately vanished. He did another one on her shoulder and then one on the other side.

"What about this?" he asked, touching her scarf, indicating the concealed sca surrounding her neck.

"I think it's too late for that one," she said. "It's been there a long time."

"Didshe do that to you?"

Gwen nodded. "Let's just say there are legends that clearly depict the White Lady as aheadless woman in white and leave it at that." Evan hummed sympathetically and kissed her neck anyway.

"And what about these," he asked, taking her gloved hands in his.

"You can't heal my claws, Evan.

"Ok, but do you have any cuts on your hands? I'm not afraid of the claws if you want to take off the gloves."

"One last legend," she whispered. "The White Lady's Curse. If my claws scratch you, you will die a slow agonising death." Her eyes searched his face. She seemed to still be expecting him to freak out and run from her.

"Well, that just seems unnecessary," said Evan, and he kissed the back of her hands. "I do find the gloves strangely sexy, if that's any consolation."

He stepped back to look at Gwen, appraising the rips in her stockings and the cuts on her legs. He sank to his knees in front of her. He lifted one of her legs, running his hands down the back of her calf. He tilted her foot and pulled off the white high heeled shoe, which evaporated in his hand like her gloves had earlier the second it left her foot. He kissed a graze on her shin, and it vanished, but the tear in her stocking remained. He ran his hands up her stockinged leg until he touched her bare thigh, making her shudder. He slowly peeled the torn stocking down her leg and off over her foot, where it disappeared. He kissed away another graze above her knee.

He repeated the process slowly with her other leg. Removing her shoe and stocking, letting them vanish into thin air, before seeking out her injuries and banishing them with his lips. As he got back to his feet he lifted the hem of her dress, sliding it up her body.

He thanked his stars that he already knew Gwen could somehow make the clothes reappear, as she had already with her scarf and gloves. It saved him having to ask one more stupid question about whether vanishing all her clothes would leave her naked forever. He was already fighting to suppress a gleeful laugh every time a shoe or a stocking puffed out of existence.

He kissed Gwen's thigh, her hip, her belly, healing her as he went. Her knickers were white, of course. Her bra too. Her body was more gorgeous than he had imagined all night. Her skin was soft and smooth, and flawless once he moved his lips over it. Gwen cooed as he erased the last scratch by pressing his lips to her breast. She raised her arms so he could lift the dress over her head, and it dissolved into mist and slipped through his fingers.

He raised a hand to stroke her cheek and she purred again at the warmth of his touch.

"Evan?"

"Yes, Gwen?"

"Are you going to carry me to the bed, or would you prefer me to fly?"

He gathered her up and carried her into the bedroom, practically throwing her down on the bed. He shed his own shoes and socks -- which did not vanish into thin air -- before joining her. His hands were all over her as their mouths melted together. Gwen didn't breathe, but she sighed as his tongue entwined with hers. Gwen's fingers twisted in Evan's hair, and she writhed under his touch as he caressed her body, squeezing her breasts.

He didn't want to waste any more time on repaying his favour and she didn't complain as he kissed his way down her body. He slipped his fingers under the elastic of her knickers and peeled them down her legs, fighting the urge to yellHey, presto! as they wisped away.

He pushed her legs apart as he kissed his way back up the inside of her thigh. He moved his hands to spread her lips, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her sex. There was nothing cold about this part of her body as delicious heat radiated from her.

Gwen was already moaning softly before Evan put his mouth on her. She responded immediately when he did. He touched and teased her, kissing and sucking. When he tugged her labia gently with his mouth, she moaned. When he pressed his tongue against her clit, she gasped and gripped the back of his head. More than anything it was his hot breath all over her that drove her wild.

He used his fingers on her clit as he pushed his face into her wetness. Her fingers gripped his head, and guided his movements, and held him into her. He was hungry for her taste. Desperate for the sounds of her pleasure. Unlike her, he needed to breathe, but in that moment, he would have happily drowned between her legs.

Gwen cried and shook as she came, still gripping Evan's head tight, her juices flooding over his face. She shuddered and moaned and gasped his name. He lapped thirstily until she released him, and he looked up to find her face flushed and plastered with a wide smile.

She tugged his head and he crawled up the bed to kiss her. She rolled onto her side facing him, stroking his face and hair as he consumed her mouth. Evan's hands slid over her back and unhooked her bra, and she shrugged it off.

"Go on. Do your bit, whatever it is," she breathed, rolling her eyes.

"Abra Kadabra!" laughed Evan as the bra vanished.

Gwen shook her head and pushed him onto his back, climbing on top of him. She bent down to kiss him again and sighed as he fondled her breasts and teased her hard nipples. She reached between them to unfasten his belt and trousers. She shuffled down the bed, and he raised his hips to let her pull his trousers and boxers down.

"Voila!" she said as she whipped them away from his body.

"That's not Welsh," he said, but her mouth stole the words as she kissed him again.

Evan was rock hard, of course. He had been since he'd started kissing her in the bathroom. Their bodies were perfectly aligned, and his cock twitched against her vulva. Gwen curled her fingers around his shaft and stroked him a couple of times before introducing him to her wet entrance.

Gwen gasped and Evan groaned as she slid down onto him. She adjusted her angle and rocked her hips and soon opened to his length. Their bodies were hot against each other, the initial chill a distant memory, the sweet heat of her sex molten on Evan's naked cock.

Evan ran his hands all over Gwen's body. Legs, hips and back. He squeezed her breasts and buttocks. He lay beneath her as she rode him, using his hands to help her, rocking his hips to match her movements. She spread her gloved hands across his chest, leaning into him to grind her clit against his body as she bucked back and forth.

Gwen cried and threw her head back as a second climax overwhelmed her. Her fingers dug into Evan's flesh, and he was glad she had declined his invitation to reveal her claws. He shuddered beneath her as her insides gripped him. Gwen screamed out a string of words in Welsh that Evan took to be profanities, but she didn't stop riding him. She instead picked up the pace, sliding up and down Evan's entire length, impaling herself repeatedly, frantically on his cock.

Gwen moaned and cried with each thrust, and it was all Evan could do just to keep his hands on her as she moved on top of him. As he watched her face flush, aglow with ecstasy, he saw the white fog starting to leak out from under her scarf. He reached up to untie it, pulling it free, and watched it fade away. He already couldn't see the wound around Gwen's neck as the fog filled the air around them. She suddenly became aware what was happening, touched her neck and looked into Evan's eyes.

"Oh, Evan," she said longingly, and doubled over to kiss him. The shock of cold returned as her mouth and the fog hit him at the same time, but as she covered his face with passionate kisses, it all became warm once more. It was like kissing in a summer rain shower as the fog swirled around them.

Gwen didn't disappear into the fog this time. Evan could still feel her body and see her face as she kissed him and fucked him. But the fog flowed over and around them. Her golden hair shimmered and blew as though in a howling wind. A million water droplets swirled over Evan's naked body like hands caressing his skin, occasionally turning from warm to cool then back again, heightening the sensation of every touch. It covered his arms, his chest, his legs. It swirled between his fingers and toes. It flowed between their legs, like running a shower over their most sensitive parts. Evan could have been lost in a storm of endless pleasure, but he felt himself rushing towards that edge again.

He cried Gwen's name, but it sounded like a whisper in a hurricane, though the only other sounds were her desperate moans and her Celtic curse words.

He gripped her hips and thrust deep into her as he came. She screamed again as he spilled his heat inside her, another orgasm crashing through her too as she shared his climax. They clung to each other, gasping and shuddering, seeming to spin and tumble as the fog churned around them. Gwen's insides contracted around him as he emptied himself into her, and she clutched her arms around his neck as they whispered sweets words into each other's ears.

Gwen touched her fingers to her neck and a white choker appeared there, stemming the flow of the fog. Evan felt as though they were sinking as the white cloud started to dissipate. Then he realised that they had been floating about three feet off the bed. Gwen sat astride him with her legs fully dangling. They kissed and stroked each other as they descended slowly onto the mattress.

Evan lay on his back panting for a minute while Gwen kissed his neck and chest.

"Wow," he said after accepting that anything he said would be inadequate. "Just, wow."