Playing with the characters from the American version of The Office, this parody is meant as a bit of Halloween fun. A departure from other things I've written, so I'd encourage you not to take it too seriously. Comments and feedback are always welcome. Happy Halloween.
The darkened farmhouse creaked in the wind of a chill October night. Moaning echoed through the walls and awoke the sleeping couple in their darkened room. Turning on the light was not an option, as Schrute Farms had just gone wireless, thanks to Mose Schrute hiding all of the wires.
"What is that?" Pam Beasley whispered to her boyfriend Jim, the situation not what either of them expected for their first overnight trip together.
Jim sat up in the small custom made bed and ran his hand through his tousled hair. The newness of being in bed with his long time crush sent a thrill through him as he gave her thigh a pat.
"I'm sure it's as weird as you'd expect," he sighed, "I'll go this time. You investigated the last one." Of course Pam had sought out the source of a constant banging, like repeated door slams only to spy Mose in the outhouse with the unhinged door slamming repeatedly in the wind.
"What if it's ghosts?" she giggled, teasing Jim, but honestly more than impressed by his nonchalance in seeking out the moaning.
"There's no such thing as ghosts," Jim said evenly as he stood and slipped on a robe over his flannel pajamas.
"What if it's Dwight and Mose having sex?" Pam teased, stifling a chuckle.
"Then I take back what I said," Jim replied flatly, "And I hope it's ghosts."
Jim slipped out of the small room and into the hallway, the moaning intensifying as he padded softly down the hall. He followed it to a closed door and knocked softly.
"Come in," a voice from within the room said as the moaning stopped.
Slowly opening the door, Jim found his co-worker Dwight sitting on his bed in a t-shirt and boxers, holding a small figurine and illuminated by a single candle.
"Is everything alright?" Jim asked, suspiciously cautious, "We heard loud moaning."
"Oh?" Dwight's expression was unmoved and seemed barely concerned, "perhaps it's the pipes... or perhaps Mose is having nightmares."
"Does Mose have nightmares?" Jim asked, feeling a bit disturbed by the revelation.
"Oh yes," Dwight said coolly, "Bad ones." Dwight turned his round face to Jim, expressionless.
At that moment the door slammed shut behind Jim. He couldn't help but jump at the loud bang it made in the darkened room. Jim turned to the door but found he couldn't open it.
"The door seems to be stuck," Jim said aloud, trying to hide the unsettling panic growing in his voice.
Dwight turned his face back to the figurine in his hands. "It's just a game he's playing, there's no need to panic."
"Panic? Who said anything about panicking?" Jim asked, clearly getting agitated. He continued to work the handle of the heavy door to no avail.
Seeing Dwight was lost in his own dysfunction, Jim called out through the door, "Alright Mose, you've had your fun, open the door."
"Oh, it's not Mose," Dwight explained, "And the more you panic, the more fun he has torturing you."
Throughout their day at Schrute Farms, Jim and Pam had only encountered Dwight and his cousin Mose. If someone else lived on the beet farm, it was news to Jim. Dwight had always given the impression that he and Mose lived alone.
"What do you mean it's not Mose?" Jim turned back to Dwight, a chill running through him. "Who else is here?"
Dwight remained calm, "Come, sit, let me tell you a story."
....
While Jim contemplated the bizarre and honestly frightening situation in Dwight's room, Pam, remained snugly in their shared bed in the blackened room. With the moaning having stopped, she was beginning to drift back to sleep despite fighting to stay awake for Jim's return.
She had turned and was facing the wall, half asleep, when she heard the door to their room softly close, the lock being turned with a click.
Smiling in her drowsy state, she let out a soft moan of her own that dripped with an eager contentedness for her lover's return. Like Jim, she had crushed on him for so long, even though often denying her true feelings to herself, that now that they were together, every day seemed lovely.
He treated her so well, obviously cared for her. Was kind, considerate, and her biggest supporter. Sure, he wasn't quite what she was used to in bed. Her ex fiance Roy had been, in many ways, the opposite of Jim: gruff, self-centered, dismissive. Objectively she knew that Roy was bad for her, and her desire for him was toxic, but the way he fucked her, the way he ordered her around in the bedroom, made use of her as though she were a play thing...
Of course Jim would never treat her so callously. That's why she loved him so much. But love and orgasms don't always go together. So sometimes, on nights that Jim played in the basketball league at the Y, she let her mind remember some scene from her time with Roy as she got herself off.
She felt the bed shift as she was joined in bed, "Did you figure out..."
A large hand ran up her leg from the end of the bed, cutting her off. Soon the leg was followed by the feel of kisses running up her calf.
"Hey... " she giggled, "I thought we weren't comfortable having sex with Dwight right down the hall?" Of course by "we" she meant Jim, who had begged off of her advances earlier in the night. The thrill of being alone together on their first overnight trip, even if it was to the coworker's beet farm, obviously wasn't as exciting for Jim as it had been for her.
She rolled onto her back just in time to see the figure disappear under the blankets at her feet. Her legs smooth and bare as she chose to sleep in just panties and an oversized t-shirt, were pushed apart as the figure moved between them.
"Oh my," She breathed quietly into the room, "Someone found his interest." Her hands reached down and rested on the back of the head making its way under the blankets, now kissing just above her knees as she eagerly spread her legs wider to encourage the ascent.
Jim had proven more than a bit reserved when it came to sex and resisted going down on her. In fairness to him, his lack of experience made him uncomfortable receiving head too, and usually stopped her quite quickly when she would initiate sex by going down on him in the middle of their favourite programs.
But there was no hesitancy here, large hands held her thighs apart, and soon she felt the warm breath of a mouth on her panty covered mound, breathing her in, tasting the air of her scent and wetness.
"Do you want me to take..." but her offer to remove her undergarment was interrupted by the forcefull hands gripping and shredding the flimsy material to tatters, freeing her sex for his eager mouth.
"Oh god..." She moaned as the hands pushed her legs up and back and the mouth closed over her sex. A long cool tongue snaking in between the wet folds of her flesh in one long lapping stroke as she gripped the back of the head and arched her body up into it.
....
Dwight patted the chair next to the bed, inviting Jim to come further into the room and have a seat. Looking back at the locked door that wouldn't budge, Jim resigned himself to the apparent fact that there was no way out but through.
Before he had even taken his seat, Dwight looked up at him, the eerie glow of the candle illuminating his face.
"You already know that when Schrutes marry, it is tradition that we do so while standing in our own graves," Dwight began.
"Did I know that?" Jim questioned, knowing that half of what Dwight says he dismisses and ignores.
"Yes, you did," Dwight said, showing his trademark irritation for the first time in the encounter. "But do you know why?"
"Something about 'til death do us part?" Jim ventured a guess.
"Wrong." Dwight admonished. "Well sort of. Just shut up and listen." The flustered Dwight collected himself and returned to the mysterious air of earlier.
"It's because of Obediah Schrute, the founder of this beet farm, back in 1812." Dwight explained. "Obediah was an adventurous sort, had a difficult time settling down. He laid claim to this land only as a temporary means to generate funds for an expedition further west, beets being a form of currency at the time.
"But claiming this land meant securing the deed from a wealthy banker in Philadelphia, and that meant taking the banker's daughter for a wife. Of course, Obediah had no need for a wife, and as his plans to settle on a beet farm were only temporary, he entered the marriage with the intent of breaking the marriage vow as soon as it suited him.
"After a few years his wife, after birthing a few strong Schrute lads with fine wide set eyes, learned of Obediah's plans to abandon her. It was then, she consulted the town witch."
Jim sat captivated by the story, the first time he could ever remember actually being captivated by anything Dwight said. "And then what happened?" He asked in a hushed whisper.
"Well, long story short, she cursed him and it backfired and now not even death will separate them from the land and each other."
Jim shook his head, even when he wanted Dwight to talk about the Schrutes he skipped over the most interesting parts. "I'm going back to bed."
"Be careful," Dwight warned as Jim headed to the door, "His wife, Incarnata Schrute, haunts these grounds as well, and she is a comely spirit." Dwight smiled as if lost in a pleasant memory, "Very comely indeed."
