Page 3 of Grave Possession

“Captain Graves,” his gruff voice carries through the earpiece.

“Are you alone?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Who is on patrol at the mill?” Anxiety shoots through my veins like an electric shock.

“Myers, why?”

“Pull him out and send him on my route.”

“Why? What the hell is going on, son?” His concern threatens to tear down the flimsy walls keeping my emotions at bay.

“He’s got Mallory. He’s got my girlfriend.”

“What do you mean? Who’s got…” his voice trails off as the few things I’ve said click together. “No.”

“She’s been gone for two days by the looks of it.”

“Lennox…”

“No. Don’t. I’m going to get her back, I have to. You pull Myers out of that mill, and I’m going to be waiting for that fucker to show up again to carry out his sick little ritual.”

“You can’t go in alone.”

“I can and I will.”

“What if something happens?”

“Nothing will happen. I don’t have time for this. I have to go. I love you, uncle.” His breath catches, stalling in his lungs. I can count the amount of times I’ve said those words to my adoptive guardian on one hand. There’s no doubt in my mind that hearing me say them now solidifies the idea in his mind that I may not be coming back. I will die for Mallory. Fuck, I’d eat a bullet for the chance to just exist again with her in another lifetime, in another existence.

“Be safe, Lennox, and come home.”

“Yes, sir.”

Click.

Chapter Two

Unknown

Two days ago.

She’s a staggering mess when I pull her from the trunk, stumbling and falling over her own two feet. Eventually, Mallory gets her head on straight enough to run, the small dose of sedative I gave her finally wearing off. Adrenaline shoots straight to the velvet steel in my trousers as fear finally sparks in her eyes again. I trail her the same way a predator would stalk a wounded animal. I’m sure she’s barely coherent; head pounding from the concussion I definitely gave her. Suddenly, she trips and lands face down in the dirt, grunting as the air whooshes out of her on impact. That’s when I pounce, swamping her soft, warm body beneath me. Gone is the muddled mess of a woman who couldn’t even walk in a straight line from moments ago. She thrashes against me, trying, but failing to buck me off. It just makes me throb harder between the legs.

“Is your kitty meowing for me, Mallory?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” she snarls from beneath me. She tries endlessly to gain the upper hand but her body betrays her, not having nearly enough energy to fight off my advances. Her hands are still cuffed behind her back and I salivate at the sight.

“I know how you like the hunt, darlin’. You wouldn’t be lyin’ to me, now would you?” I’m met with her silence and part of me wonders if she’s slipped into unconsciousness again. “Maybe I should find out for myself.” I expect that to get a reaction from her, but one doesn’t come. Her breathing is steady and shallow. Crouching above her, I roll her onto her back, cupping her hot cunt through her pants. She doesn’t so much as tense up or move an inch. I straddle her hips and pull down her top, exposing her tits to the chilly evening air. Her nipples peak and I grasp her breast roughly, inflicting a force I know would illicit a wince from her if she was faking unconsciousness. There’s no response.

I pull my pipe from my jeans and begin to pump. Shoving my fingers into my prey’s mouth, I gather her spit, sinking all the way to the back of her throat. Her body revolts, but she doesn’t wake. The concussion clearly taking its toll. I collect her saliva on my palm and use it to stroke my dick. With her helpless beneath me, I ejaculate quickly, shooting my seed onto her boobs.

She takes advantage of me in my blissed out state. My little darlin' is smarter than I give her credit for. While in my clouded post orgasm haze, Mallory snaps her body up and smashes her forehead into my face. Using my weighton her body to her advantage, she does it again. I’m thrown off balance from the force and roll away from the assault. Through my teary vision I can see her scrambling away. How she managed to get back on two feet, I don’t know, but she is heading right towards my cabin.

Blood pours like a faucet from my nose as I return the cartilage to its proper position.There’s the fight I’ve been waiting for.

Rising from the ground, I crack my neck from side to side then head off in the same direction as her. Mallory’s blood curdling scream rings out through the trees as a crimson toothy grin spreads across my face. She must have found my other play thing. The one I’ve been using in her absence.

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