Chapter Clara
Clara
Ahand pushed its way between my thighs, parting them. I arched off the mattress as phantom fingers circled my nipples—too many fingers, moving in unnatural patterns. My body responded before my mind could protest, hips lifting shamelessly toward the invading touch.
“Clara.” The voice vibrated through my bones rather than my ears. “Such a greedy little vessel.”
I nodded at the echoing voice. Something thick and wrong pressed against my entrance. Not flesh—something that pulsed with its own rhythm. I whimpered as it breached me, the stretch burning in a way that tipped dangerously between pain and obscene pleasure.
“Shh, sweeting, you can take me.” The voice coaxed me.
A cold mouth sucked my nipple, while he forged his way into me, stretching me open like never before. The vivid dream made my pussy gush as the rhythmic sucking on my breast made me pant. The shape of the tongue was too wide and he sucked too deep. It felt wrong.
“Deeper,” the voice crooned, and suddenly I felt it. “My rent is due, dear. This is my price. Take everything I give you.”
I cried out as it seated itself fully, the unnatural shape fitting against my cervix like a key in a lock. The heavy bulge at the base of him. The thick head of his cock hit me deep and the pain made me wince.
“Your ripe young womb isn't yours tonight, sweeting. It is mine.”
Fingers curled around my neck, pushing me into the pillows, suffocating me as it began to pound into me.
“I’m knocking on the door of your womb. Let my seed pass, Clara.” The eerie voice said angrily. “It is mine.”
My body rocked to the force of his thrusts.
Slap, slap, slap, slap.
I had no sight, but I heard the lewd sounds of his relentless brutality, and I raised my hips for more.
A breathless laugh surrounded me. Mocking me, before a hand cruelly slapped my breast, stealing the air from my lungs.
“My good little harlot. Take it.” The voice seethed.
Blood rushed around my head, and I became aware of the bed creaking beneath me. It grew louder until the wooden frame hit the wall.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
I broke. I cracked. I screamed in my mind.
Pleasure came in crashing waves, making me forget the pain.
Laughter full of madness consumed me as I clenched around his hefty cock that continued to batter my insides.
“Perfect.” The voice hissed.
He slammed into me so hard that my fingers clawed the bed to ground myself. He erupted inside me, but there was no heat, only ice-cold liquid. The fingers tightened around my neck as I contracted around him.
Clenching him.
Milking him.
The seed began to heat up but more ice continued to pour out of him as he lazily fucked himself inside me, pausing at my cervix. The fingers around my neck relaxed.
“Good girl,” it whispered, elongating into something sharper. “Now we nourish what grows.”
It pricked my insides, and I screamed silently. My voice was gone, but his echoed in my mind.
“The night is only beginning, sweeting.”
◆◆◆
There was a knock on my door, and my eyes flew open. I cautiously looked around, ignoring Sabby’s muffled voice as I tried to recall the nightmare. I stared at the sunshine pouring into the room as the memory slipped away. Sabby’s voice grew louder, and the door opened.
“It’s almost eleven. Come on, we are going to explore the creepy garden for bodies,” she said while I nodded.
“I need to shower,” I said, but I wanted to check my body even though nothing hurt.
“Yeah, we all do. I'm sure my pores are producing alcohol,” she said with a grimace.
As soon as she closed the door, I pulled the covers off, but there was no blood, semen or any other kind of bodily fluids. My turquoise knickers were back on. I frowned as I got up, pulling my T-shirt down before walking to the bathroom.
I scratched my head in confusion until I saw the mirror.
My hand fell away from my head, and I pulled my T-shirt up to see bruises on my thighs.
Black and blue unsightly marks, yet they didn't hurt.
I stared at my reflection, but my face was still the same, and the tingling sensation building in my belly was the dread of considering the thing inside me last night might not have been a dream.
The hot water washed everything away. I scrubbed myself hard and long, placing the shower nozzle between my legs to wash it thoroughly. If I told the girls, they would think I was crazy. I considered my options as I got ready because I needed answers.
◆◆◆
The gardens were well-kept once we progressed past the thick bushes and brambles.
There was a large pond with a small stone bridge across the middle of it.
It was a pretty sight and relaxing to watch the fish swim in the pond until the creepy vibe from the looming manor felt overpowering.
It was silently calling to me. The girls settled on the sun loungers, which were set up on a deck at the back of the house, complete with a hot tub.
“I’m going to take a nap,” I said, standing up. “I didn't get much sleep. I had some weird dreams.”
I scrutinised all their faces, but no one looked unperturbed.
“Why not nap out here?” Sabby asked.
“Says the girl with a permanent tan who won't burn,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Fair point. You look like a ghost,” she said with a snicker.
The word made my heart stutter, and I forced a smile on my lips before turning away from them.
My answer would be in the east wing. In the room with the flickering candle.
The house was silent, waiting for me to make the next move.
I straightened my back and marched up the stairs, working my way past my bedroom to reach the east wing.
I paused at the spiral stone staircase to glance up at the yellow and black stone wall, but I was met with more silence. Before I lost my courage, I quickly ran up the stairs. My heart raced as my lungs burned from my brutal pace.
I reached the door, panting from exertion, and placed my hand on the handle. The handle turned too easily, and the lock clicked like it had been oiled recently.
No one shouted. No one came. The house let me in.
This was the same door that was locked yesterday.
I took a deep breath and looked around. There was a small window and a table in front of it, but no burnt-out candle.
The wood beneath it was scorched, as if something had burned there for years.
The rest of the room looked like a storage space.
Dusty white sheets covered tall furniture.
I stepped inside, and the temperature instantly chilled. Large cobwebs hung from the stone wall and onto the white sheets. I winced at the sight but quickly moved to look under the sheets.
The sheets weren’t just dusty—they were stained, yellowed at the edges like old baby blankets. I wasn't sure what it was until I realised it was cradles and cots all piled on top of one another.
My fingers trembled, and I dropped the sheet, but I lifted another three to find the same. The cots beneath weren’t piled haphazardly. They were stacked, smallest to largest, a grotesque timeline of infancy—too many to count.
Then I saw it—the rocking cradle.
Polished mahogany, carved with grinning cherubs, its curved runners worn smooth from centuries of use. Something primal in me ached to touch it. My hand hovered over it.
Pain.
A white-hot blade twisted deep in my belly. I crashed to my knees, a guttural moan tearing from my throat as I clutched my stomach.
The cradle rocked once.
All on its own.
I breathed through the pain and ran out of the room. As soon as I left the east wing the pain ebbed away. I rested my back on the wall and stared down the hallway I’d run through.
One more night.
I just needed to make it through one more night.
◆◆◆
The weight pressed deeper, crushing my ribs against the floorboards. I couldn’t scream—couldn’t even breathe. My vision swam as the room tilted into focus. Dark red walls. Blackened bedposts. A ceiling too high, lost in shadows that moved like liquid.
This wasn’t like any of the rooms we’d seen.
“You've been a naughty girl snooping where you shouldn't.” The eerie voice hissed in my ear.
The voice licked into my ear, wet and guttural, syllables dripping like rotten honey. Not a dream. Not a hallucination. It wasn’t in my mind. I could feel the cold malevolence radiating from the ghoul.
“Naughty girls get punished.”
Cold fingers spread my thighs, digging into my soft flesh until I was open for him.
“But you already knew that, didn’t you, Clara?”
The heavy mass pushed against my opening. It wasn’t smooth like before, but gnarly like a bunch of roots clumped together. It didn’t fit.
“A special treat for your quim.”
The weight didn’t shift. It kept my chest pressed against the bed. I tried to raise my hand, but a cold grip squeezed my wrist, pushing it back down to trap it on the bedcovers. The bed began to rock, his twisted member moved with it, sliding ever deeper. His growl joined the creaking wood.
“Deeper.”
He surged into me with his weight hitting against my ass cheeks. I grunted when he hit my cervix. He was more powerful tonight. I could feel him not through his presence but through his shadowy body.
“Yes, Clara. I feel you. Your hot tight quim is weeping for more, preparing for my seed.”
He began to ram into me, laughing when I accepted him. The hard root hit me deep each time he thrust into me, punishing me like he promised. His hand released my hand, and the pressure lifted from my chest.
I took a deep breath of air, only for spindly fingers to curl around my neck. He pulled my head up, gripping my throat for leverage and pummelled my pussy raw. My back was arched, I lay wide open for him and hung between the ripples of pain and pleasure.
“Rent is due.”
My eyes fluttered as the tension reached its peak. His strange cock continued to plough inside of me, the wet sound joined the creaking bed. He lifted my shoulders off the bed until my breasts swayed with each beastly thrust. His speed increased.
“Here it comes, sweeting. Open wide.”
His evil tendrils hooked my insides as I cried out in agony and an explosion of pleasure. I convulsed around his cock but it pierced inside of me. I felt it open my insides, squirming like a worm searching for its target.
Ice cold cum burned my insides. I threw my head back as the hard bones moved from my neck to hold my jaw. His deep snarl vibrated down my spine as he continued to pump me full of his seed. It went deeper, much deeper than yesterday. His hands released my jaw, and I floated to the pillows.
He pulled out of me and pushed me onto my back, raising my legs over his shadowy shoulders. The icy burn eased and cooled the pain inside of me before heat took over. I relaxed and studied the shape in front of me. He was a dark green shadow, but shining black eyes peered out of the shadow.
“What are you?” I whispered in horror as his appearance changed to Sabby’s.
“Your landlord,” he said, morphing back to a shadow again.
This time he wore a top hat.
“You’re Edmund Greywood,” I whispered.
“What a clever girl! " he said, his blinding white teeth shining as bright as the sun. I closed my eyes against the bright light.
I tried to remain conscious, but nothing in my body worked.
No.