Chapter 5 Sera
Sera
The bell chimes as James exits, leaving me frozen behind the counter, my heart pounding in my throat.
Rick returns a minute later, frowning at my expression. “Did that guy say something to you? He’s weird, but he seems harmless.”
I shake my head. “I’m fine.”
But I’m not fine. Because James knows who I am…or at least, who I was online. Which means he may know why I’m here. What I’m planning.
And James coming into the store right after Vincent… That can’t be a coincidence. He knows our history, likely from the news reports blasted across the country, even though it happened over five years ago. He knows everything.
And if he knows everything, who else does? And what does James intend to do about it?
For the rest of my shift, I go through the motions—ringing up customers, restocking shelves, mopping the floors. But my mind races. James. Vincent. The house with its bloody footprints and whispering vents. The shadowy thing that also knows my real name.
When my shift ends at midnight, Rick walks me to my car, his concern transparent and self-serving.
“You sure you’re okay driving home alone? That house of yours is pretty isolated.”
“I’m fine,” I assure him, unlocking my car.
“Okay, sweetheart. I mean, Sera.” He shuffles his feet. “Listen, if that guy bothers you again, let me know.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes at my new boss. “I can handle myself.”
Rick nods, clearly unconvinced. “Just be careful. This town’s not always friendly to outsiders. Or insiders. Hell, just look at the Missing Persons bulletin board.”
“No, thanks.” Without a wave, I get in my car and go.
As I drive home, I keep checking my rearview mirror, half expecting to see headlights following me, but the road behind me stays dark and empty.
The house looms ahead, a black silhouette against the night sky. No lights in the windows because I didn’t leave any on. Yet as I pull into the driveway, I swear I see a figure in the upstairs window. Just for a second. Then nothing.
I sit in my car, engine idling, staring up at the house. My house. My sanctuary.
PrayWhileIMoan.
How could James know that name? It doesn’t make any sense.
Unless Vincent sent him. Unless Vincent does remember me. Unless he sent spies to watch me, waiting for me to make my move.
The thought should terrify me, but it ignites something dark and hungry inside me. Let him see me coming. Let him lie awake at night, wondering what I’ll do next.
Still, how did James find me so quickly? How did he know PrayWhileIMoan is really Sera Vale, here, in Wichita, and working at Gas N’ Go? What if he’s watching me right now?
I cut the engine and hurry out into the cool night air. The wind whispers through the trees, carrying the scent of rain and decay. Autumn is settling in, painting the world in rust and gold in the daylight, beautiful on the surface, but at night, it’s clear that it’s rotting underneath.
I run to the house, keys in hand. The porch steps creak beneath my weight, a sound that’s already becoming familiar. I unlock the door and rush inside, immediately engulfed by darkness.
But I’m not alone.
I can feel it—a presence, a weight in the air. Something waiting. Something watching.
For now, I ignore it. I don’t reach for the light switch, letting my eyes adjust to the dark. Instead, I lock the door and check to see that all the blinds and curtains in the house are drawn so no one can see me.
As I race to the top of the stairs, something shifts in the shadows, a darker patch of darkness, moving like smoke. It drifts after me and watches while I manically move from room to room to check the windows.
Finally, breathing hard, I stand in my bedroom.
From the open air vent in the middle of the floor, something dark and phallic pokes out. My giant black dildo, I realize. The one I haven’t unpacked yet. My friends gave it to me as a gag gift for my nineteenth birthday. My friends, whom I haven’t spoken to in years.
“Why do you have that?” I demand. “Put it away.”
The dildo stays there while a cold wash of air brushes at my back, cements my lungs, and peaks my nipples. Did this thing living with me just…walk through me?
In front of me, the shadow pulses, expanding and contracting like a heartbeat.
I step closer. “I met someone today who knows things he shouldn’t. About me. About what I’m doing here, and… If he knows, I have to stop him. No one gets in my way. Do you hear me?”
Slowly, the shadow forms what may be a nod. Then it stretches, elongating until it resembles a human figure—tall, featureless, but unmistakably masculine. It extends a hand toward me, fingers like wisps of smoke.
I don’t hesitate. I reach out, letting my fingers pass through the insubstantial darkness. It’s cold, like dipping my hand in ice water, but somehow solid too. A paradox of sensation.
“Who are you?” I whisper.
The shadow leans closer, its form bending until what may be a mouth hovers near my ear.
“Release,” it whispers, the word riding on a breath of cold air.
Then it dissipates, breaking apart into tendrils of darkness that slither away across the floor and into the open vent with the dildo poking out of it.
“Release… You mean your release? Or…orgasm? Are you saying you want me to fuck that dildo?”
“Yes.“ The growl vibrates the entire house.
“Yeah, it doesn’t work like that, dude. I can’t just go at it like men can, especially with a dildo that’s three feet long.”
A shadowy tentacle creeps out of the vent, crawls across the floor, and tracks up my leg to my inner thigh.
It pauses, as if waiting for me to refuse, and when I don’t, it brushes against the crotch of my khaki work pants.
I stare at the tentacle, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and unexpected arousal. It’s cold, so cold it burns, but a hum resonates through me, making my nerves sing.
“What… What are you doing?” I stammer, but my body knows, reacting to the touch even as my mind struggles to comprehend.
The tentacle moves harder, faster, caressing me through my clothes, sending shivers of pleasure and cold racing up my spine. With a loud moan, I spread my legs wider, giving it better access.
The shadow hisses, the sound like wind through dry leaves.
The sound sends a jolt of heat through me, contrasting sharply with the icy touch of the tentacle. It slides up, tracing the line of my pants, before dipping beneath the waistband. The cold against my bare skin is shocking, electrifying, and I gasp, my hips jerking forward.
“Oh, fuck. More,“ I moan, not sure if I’m asking or demanding.
Either way, the shadow complies.
More tentacles emerge from the vent, wrapping around my legs, my waist, holding me in place as the first tentacle explores me, sliding through my folds, circling my clit. The cold is intense, almost painful, but the pleasure is even more so, building quickly, overwhelmingly.
“Oh…god,“ I breathe.
My hips move in time with the tentacle’s strokes, grinding against them, chasing the release that hovers just out of reach. Wetness leaks down my inner thighs, but the tentacles are quick to lap it up like so many tongues.
The shadow yanks me closer to the dildo in the vent. Not an invitation but a command.
I quickly rid myself of my pants and underwear.
With the tentacles supporting me, I lower myself onto the floor, and then once I’ve positioned myself, I easily slide onto the silicone shaft.
I’m so wet, I can hear my juices sucking it in farther as it fills me, stretches me.
It’s big, too big, but the tentacle on my clit never stops moving, and the combination of pleasure and pain intoxicates me.
The shadow growls, the sound vibrating up through the vent, through the tentacles, through me.
I ride the dildo, the tentacles helping me move. The sensation is overwhelming—the cold of the tentacles, the fullness of the dildo, the relentless stimulation on my clit. I’m so close, so close…
“I need to come,” I say with a whimper.
In answer, a tentacle glides inside me along the dildo and curls.
I come hard, screaming, my body convulsing as pleasure ripples through me.
I squirt forcefully, my body releasing a sudden gush of fluid that soaks the tentacles and the floor beneath me.
The tentacles hold me through it, never stopping their movements, drawing out my orgasm until I’m a shivering, gasping mess.
As I come down, the tentacles slowly retreat, sliding out, unwinding from my body. I collapse onto the floor, the dildo slipping out of me, my limbs too weak to hold me up any longer. My hips, as if they have a mind of their own, continue to roll lazily against the open vent.
“Fuck…” I pant out.
I haven’t come that hard in maybe ever, and I’ve never squirted. My body feels alive in a way it hasn’t in years. But at the same time, questions swirl in my mind. What is this shadow thing? Why is he here? What does he want from me?
But I have to admit, the adrenaline spike after seeing Vincent and my worries that James knows exactly who I am have faded, and my mind has cleared.
“Why did you do that?” I ask, still trying to catch my breath.
No answer, but I sense him still watching me from both inside the open vent and the room at large.
I shake my head, overwhelmed, confused, but sated. My lower half and the floor is a mess of my own cum, so I rise and make my way to the bathroom, where I take a quick shower. Afterward, I find the mirror covered in steam. Written in the condensation is a single word:
CAREFUL
I stare at the warning, watching as drops of water form in the letters and streak down the glass, distorting the message. Careful of what? James? Vincent? Or something else entirely?
“Hey, uh, Shadow Daddy?” I call, but he doesn’t answer.
Back in my bedroom, I notice the glass in Vincent’s photo on the floor is now cracked. His smug face looks back at me with his cut-out eyes, oblivious to what’s coming. Or maybe not so oblivious, if James is now his eyes and ears.
Either way, the game is on.
I close my eyes, but sleep is a long time coming. When it finally does, I dream of shadows with hands that leave bruises, and men with smiles that cut like glass, and a voice that whispers all of my names from deep beneath the house.
“Sera… PrayWhileIMoan… Penny…”