Page 77 of Grave Possession

I rinse my hair and body, then turn off the tap. Wringing out my ebony tresses then exiting the shower, I dry off. Bellamy knows something, and I’m going to dig until I find out what it is.

I dress quickly then make the long drive to the only Halloween store in town. I’m surprised Nox’s truck isn’t parked out front already since I’m always notoriously late, but maybe he just got held up with Detective Jefferds. Our bang session on the kitchen floor definitely delayed him more than a few minutes. It took me forever to cum, and when I did, it was half-hearted and barely satisfying. I’m too in my own head. I know it, but not how to stop it. I’m so fucking self aware lately that I know I’m trying to ignore myself. It’s maddening. I need to lose myself in him again. He’s my fucking lifeline, the tether to my sanity, and I’m unwinding quicker than I’d like to admit without his ability to keep me grounded.

Pulling into an empty stall, I park and take out my phone. Pressing thecall nowbutton on Ghost’s contact screen, I wait for him to pick up, monotonously tapping my self-painted, chipped black nails on the steering wheel. His voicemail clicks on instead, so I hang up without leaving a message, and pocket my phone. He must still be in his meeting. I’m not a child, I can shop for a costume alone. Without him here, I’m not at risk for leaving with something slutty that barely covers my tits or ass.

The bell above the door rings as I enter, an older lady I recognize as Martha sits behind the register. She owns the only thrift store in town, and it’s news to me that she owns this building that's rented out for seasonal shit throughout the year, too. Next month it’ll be stuffed full with Christmas crap, and I’ll avoid it like the plague. Stepping one foot in the door will have a glowing nose attached to my face, and a candy cane shoved in my ass becauseit’s the holiday season.

She waves hello, and I awkwardly wave back. Could I be anymore socially inept? I make my way through the store, looking for the women’s section. However, I’m immediately distracted by the wall adorned with masks. There’s about ten different Ghostface ones, but the original white one is still my favourite, awakening a needy thump in my lady cave. Is this what I need? For Nox to put the mask back on? The darkness in Ghost calls to me, it always has. It coaxed my own darkness out from the box I had it stuffed inside. But now that I’ve accepted it and let it out to play, it’s its own living and breathing beast I have to keep restrained. I can’t help but feel more drawnto that side of him. Does that part of him match mine? Or is his beast more of a light grey, compared to my pitch-black one?

I grab the original scream disguise off the wall, slipping it over my face, and snapping a selfie. Even through the mesh of the eye holes I think I look hot. Would Ghost think so too? I send the picture to him, adding on the text ‘Wanna play?’He may still be engaged in that meeting but he’ll see the picture eventually.

My gaze trails over the other masks: Myers, Leatherface, cartoon characters, and werewolves. They’re all so generic and boring, nothing I want to wear. I stroll the aisles, rounding another corner, and coming face to face with a different mask. It steals my breath, it’s damn near perfect. A beautifully done porcelain doll face, flawless at first glance. It’s not until you look closer that you see all the micro fractures, the fine line cracks in her near perfect facade. One wrong move and the mask could shatter into a million tiny pieces. It’s breaking, slowly splitting apart, barely holding together. Just like me.

Entranced by how it makes me feel, I pull off the ghost mask and slip on the other one. There’s a mirror to my left so I turn and observe my reflection. The sight hitches my breath, a new feeling churning in my gut. If this is how Nox feels wearing a mask, I get it. There’s something dark, delicious, and ominous about obscuring who I really am to the world. Thinking of all the shit Ghost got away with because I didn’t have a face or name to put on the stalker in my yard. I can do whatever I want and not be caught.

I could kill again.

My phone vibrates against my leg,“What’s your favourite scary movie?” rasping through the small store. A thrill shoots down my spine as I answer.

“Hello.”

“So, you want to huntmethis time, baby?”

Chapter Fifty

Graves

“Would you be okay with that?” Mallory hesitates.

Like I could ever deny her anything.

“Absolutely.” Looking down at the mangled remains of what used to be Detective Jefferds’s skull, I smile. “I’ll do anything for you.”

“You’re the best,” she says through a smile. Even though I can’t see it, I can feel it. Hear it in the way the words fall from her lips.

“I try.” Leaning against my latest victim’s car, I unbutton my blood saturated uniform. Looking down my abdomen, the hole in my shirt glares back at me. I would’ve died today if Mallory wasn’t so annoyingly persistent about me wearing my vest. She’s on me about it every time I leave the house, just like my uncle was. I can see the smug look on her pretty face already, hear her “I told you so”,after I tell her how I got this fat lip, black eye, and massive, bruising welt in the centre of my gut.

“I think I found a mask I want to wear this weekend,” she says, breaking through my thoughts. What is she talking about… Damn it! The Haunt.

“Shit, baby, I’m so sorry. I forgot I was supposed to meet you. I got sidetracked.”Very…very…sidetracked.I stick my finger into the hole in my bulletproof vest, feeling the slug from Jefferds’s .9 mil firmly lodged in the torso plate. She’s going to be so mad at me for putting myself in danger, I’d be dead already if I took it off like all the other times before. The thought is sobering, but I don’t regret protecting her. I’d do it again in a heartbeat, even without the vest.

“That’s okay, at least now I know my costume won’t make me look like I belong on a street corner,” she jokes.

“It better have easy access or I’ll pick out my own costume for you…and youwillwear it.” I rumble. My thoughts flip at the speed of light—near death experience practically forgotten as the thought of her bouncing on my cock for all to see heats my skin. Claiming her so publicly so no one else dares to fuck with her seems like a magnificent idea.

“But Nox…” she whines.

“Don’t even try to get out of this, I’m King of the Haunt now, and I have to set an example.”

“What does that mean?” she asks, voice wavering. I know she’s never been to the event, but the stories are widely known. She has to have some inclination about what she’s in for.

“It means…I’m going to pull you down into my lap while I sit on my throne. Then I’m going to spread your thighs, slide my cock into your dripping cunt, and fuck you for the whole audience to watch. It kicks off the whole event, baby. Be prepared…and get yourself a skirt. A short one,” I growl.

The way her breath catches lets me know that despite her fear, she’s into it. She wants to grind on my lap before a crowd, and claim me as publicly as I will her.

“So, how much longer until you’re home? Just curious…for unrelated reasons…”

“Unrelated reasons, hmm?”

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