Page 94 of Grave Possession

“Slower than I anticipated. It’s so hard to find good help that can restore its original beauty instead ofmodernizingit.” He spits the word like it offends him, it probably does, he’s one of those old soul types.

I’m watching Mallory from the corner of my eye, knowing as soon as she registers the conversation, she’s going to force a friendship with this man. His gothic mansion is everything she could ever want… I wonder if he’d sell it?

Sure as shit, Mallory’s head whips around so fast her mask shifts askew on her face, ripping her gaze away from the woman being fucked from behind while bobbing for apples. The man holds her head beneath the water’s surface until she’s struggling, then he pulls her up. Allowing her a few short breaths of air before forcing her back down into the apple infested barrel. His gloved hand cracks off her naked ass then he releases her, gripping tight to the tassels of her ass-less chaps as he ruts into her, holding her black panties to the side with his thumb. Straw falls to the ground from the inside of his scarecrow costume, decorating the area around them as water sloshes loudly. The lady’s hands reach behind her, tapping his thighs. The man jerks her out of the water as her scream of pleasure rings through the Haunt, his roar of release falling right behind hers.

“You don’t want to modernize it?” Mallory blurts out, and I have to contain my laugh. She pulls the mask fromher face instead of fixing it, finally gracing me with the look of interest gleaming in her honey eyes.

Shock turns to warmth on Viktor’s face. “You must be Mallory, Oscar told me about you.”

“Yes, sorry. Wow. I’m so rude. I just shoved myself right into your conversation.” I gently squeeze her hand twice, letting her know it’s okay. It’s meant as a reassuring gesture, and I hope she doesn’t take it another way.

“That’s quite alright, Lennox’s uncle informed me you like the dark and macabre.” Did he? When the fuck was this? Viktor must sense the confusion pouring off me because he elaborates without me needing to ask. “I called your uncle, asking if anyone in your town could help with restoration, because everyone in Willowdale is fucking useless.” He’s not wrong there.

“Did you find anyone?”

“He suggested you and he could come by and help with restoring the hardwood, mentioning you two had done it before in your new place.” The memory slices through me, and all I can do is nod. Once again, Viktor picks up on it, diverting the conversation back to Mallory to give me a moment to recentre myself. “To answer your question, love. No, I don’t want to modernize our family home. It’s been uninhabited for quite some time, but now that Nixon and I are back in town we’re trying to clean it up.”

“Nixon? Is he your brother?” That’s a laugh I can’t contain, though I cough to cover the sound.

“Oh. No…definitely not,” Viktor replies.

Leaning over, I whisper to her, “They are lovers.”

“Fuck. I’m so sorry… When you said family home I just assumed…” She turns to me, “Can you just tape my mouth shut before I say anything else that makes me want to die of mortification?”

As if conjured by the mention of his name, Nixon emerges from the crowd. Dressed as another vampire, he’s shirtless with a black trench coat and pants, looking like he rolled around in a pool of blood. He comes up behind Viktor, draping his arms over his partner’s shoulders, making a show of dragging his tongue up the side of Viktor’s neck. I hope that fake blood is edible, if not, he’s going to have a hell of a stomach ache.

While they’re enamoured with each other, I turn to Mal. “Want me to take the flooring job so you can get inside that mansion you’re dying to see?”

“Only if you want to,” she replies, so fucking sweetly.

“I’ll do it. Maybe Greyson will want to make some extra cash.”

“Or I could help…”

“Would you really want to?”

She nods. “Will you teach me?”

“Absolutely.” Pulling her close, I rub the soft rubber of my mask against her temple. Whispering so only she can hear, “And if you really want me to tape your mouth shut, I’ll do it. Pretty sure I could still make you scream though. Even if I gagged you.” Mallory’s eyes shoot to mine beneath the disguise as she shivers in my hold.

“Challenge accepted,” she whispers in reply.

My smile is beaming beneath the mask, when the obscenely loud rumbling of a vehicle breaks through the sounds of the Haunt. It’s enough to pull the vampires apart, and have half the crowd turning to look.

A blacked out, lifted, Chevy short box with red underglow pulls in, the windows sporting illegal tint so dark there’s no way to tell who’s inside. It creeps through the makeshift parking lot, dual stacks rolling coal as whoever is behind the wheel looks for a spot.Good luck bud, it’s opening night. You’ll be lucky if you don’t have to park on the road.

Half a beat later, a sharp whine pierces the night.Who the fuck is dumb enough to drive a street bike on these back roads?A black and red crotch rocket rolls in, the lone rider’s head swaying from side to side. For a fraction of a second it lands on us, hovering longer than I’m comfortable with, before he carries on to find his friend with the small dick and loud truck.

A screaming exhaust draws my attention back to the entrance.How many of these douchebags are there?I’m blinded by the bright as fuck headlights, and the way the party strobes bounce off the chrome coated exterior. The rev is a high wail before dropping to a low, aggressive roar as this motherfucker makes a show of pulling intomyHaunt. When his lights turn away, heading down the same parking lane as his buddies, I see this fucking beautiful supercar is pink. A chrome wrapped, cherry blossom pink, Audi R8. It’s a fucking travesty. It purrs through the lot as the driver rolls down the window, hanging his heavily tattooed arm out.

How they all manage to find a parking spot, I don’t know. But shortly after their obnoxious engines cut off, three guys and a lady are crossing the grass to the entrance gate. The rider hangs back with the driver of the pink monstrosity, as the woman and a guy dressed up as Crocodile Dundee approach the gate.

Tattoo arms flips helmet-head the bird, drapes a white sheet over his body, and takes off towards the woman making exaggerated ghostly “oooooooooo” sounds. “Hey Jessie! What do you call a ghost dick?”

She looks back over her shoulder, “I don’t know. What?”

“A booooo-ner!” he says, finishing the joke. She groans, trying to hide her laugh. His body collides with hers as he throws another sheet over the woman’s head, scooping her up as she squeals. Mr. Dundee rolls his eyes, but still there’s a smile plastered on his face.

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