The hunter's moon shone brightly as Veronica walked home alone from the dance. It was cooler than she had anticipated and so wore nothing warmer than a silk blouse and short skirt on. She rubbed her arms frequently trying to fight off the chill. Her 'glorious' boyfriend had decided to dump her tonight of all nights. She had stormed out without a ride and without money to take a taxi home. She fumed and bitched the entire time home. A breeze sprung up and the chill became a bitter wind. She cursed her boyfriend, correction ex-boyfriend and hoped his car blew up on the way home. The wind's intensity increased and Veronica was forced to make a choice. Either she continued on her path or ducked through the woods bordering her backyard.
If she went through the woods then she could shave a whole half hour off her time getting home. But they have pulled bodies out of the Lost Woods as the locals called them. Veronica was not a local, her dad had gotten yet another new job and moved everyone here. It was as bad as being an army brat, never settling in for long and constantly making new friends. She had not yet developed the force field defense, the attitude of not approaching anyone for fear of getting close and then moving away without warning. A gust of icy wind answered her question for her, Her nipples were already threatening to break off, Veronica thought it would have been sexy not to wear a bra and now regretted that decision. Without hesitation or fear she ducked into the woods and headed for home. The trees were thick and the wind not so brisk here. The path twisted and turned here and there. It made its serpentine way through the ancient oaks and maples, now and again Veronica could hear water trickling by meandering to some unknown and shadowy destination. The woods were very dark and little moonlight could make its way to light the path through the heavy crisscrossed tree limbs. So it was without warning and her hurried pace that caused her to misstep and fall face first into the stream. With an angry scream Veronica gained her feet and looked down at her drenched form.
"Shit! No way I just soaked myself to the bone." A stray gust of wind found her and shivering she continued her way home. With a steady stream of curses she continued through the woods to find her suddenly and inexplicably lost. Her lovely alto voice was raised in fury as one expletive hung on the night air for any and all to hear. She stood there grasping for breath as she tried to find out where she had made a wrong turn. Veronica's arms were crossed over her chest protecting her sensitive nipples from further harm. She closed her eyes and pictured her path, but most of it had been so deep in shadow that she could not be certain where she had gone wrong. Tears threatened to burst from her but she knew panic was not the answer. Veronica grabbed hold of her emotions and let logic take over for a while. She needed shelter from the wind and a fire to dry off; she could suffer from hypothermia out here. Veronica walked on seeing forward as good a direction as any for right now.
Maybe she would recognize some part of the path or a landmark that would point her in the right direction. Hopes held high she traveled on and kept her senses keen for any sight or sound that could help her. It was her nose that leads her to the camp. She smelled food; just a hint at first but soon her mouth was watering from the smell of cooked meat. And cooked meat meant a fire, and that meant warmth. She soon saw the small blaze ahead of her and Veronica cautiously made her way forward. She never saw the tripwire and found her self on the ground with bells ringing nearby. A dark figure appeared from the direction of the fire and knelt next to her with a gleaming knife in their hand.
"Well Mon Cher, what do we have here?" His Cajun accent was thick, as was the unwashed scent that surrounded him. "Come mon petit," his strong hands helped her to her feet. When she stood erect she finally saw the man who helped her, he was gorgeous. Yes he was dressed in shabby rags, he was unshaved and stank of sweat and other things but he was quite striking in face and body. His long black hair was plastered to his head, but his bright blue eyes shone in the half-light. His features were strong and rugged, and he moved like a great cat, silent and mercurial.
"Come to the fire and warm yourself, Old John will not harm you little one."
His accent was seductive with a subtle power and charm. She followed him into the camp and saw he was indeed alone. She squatted by his fire and warmed her hands and body. Her skirt rode up revealing her white thong against the dark cotton of her skirt. Old John, as he called himself, sat on the ground nearby and brazenly watched her. He looked her up and down and smiled appreciatively. Her long silky mane and shapely body were backlit by the moon but the firelight revealed even more. Her dark areoles were heavily pronounced as her large breasts pressed against the wet translucent material. Veronica was not sure how to take this form of advance, handsome or no he could be dangerous. She could not stop him if he tried anything; he was taller and obviously much stronger. She had screamed once this evening with no result, who would hear her cries if he raped her. Show no fear she told herself, fear would be her undoing of that she was absolutely certain.
