Great Old One Pt 03

***Thanks to everyone who has commented and given feedback! I am sorry this part of the story doesn't have much erotic or horror content - but it is headed somewhere good, I promise!***

*****

In the early hours of the next morning, as dawn started to break, Annika and Chris were asleep, naked in each other's arms, when the next set of booms woke them up. Annika slept lightly and roused Chris, wanting to know what the sounds were. Chris was unconcerned and went back to sleep. Unable to return to her dreams, Annika got out of bed and padded into the small bathroom. She bundled her long platinum hair into a high bun and gazed into the mirror, admiring herself and thinking about last night. Gorgeous Mia, her hot tongue in her ass, the mindblowing orgasm; and then, later that night, Chris had fucked her for almost two hours. Drunk sex suited him well – it gave him a long-lasting hard-on and he could cum and cum, and keep fucking. They kept changing positions, sex acts and she lost count of her orgasms. As he drove his cock into her, he even made up a story about her disappearing to fuck Mia...if he only knew!

Annika thought of this, standing at the vanity unit and watching herself in the mirror as she played with her moist pussy and feeling it respond further, swelling hotly in her fingers as she stroked and tickled. She touched lighter, pretending that it was Mia – and then firmly, thinking of Chris. She gazed into her big blue eyes, enjoying the expression of pleasure on her face as she succumbed to the delicious sensations. If only she could fuck a man and a woman at the same time! She imagined getting fucked from behind by a huge cock whilst licking a juicy wet pussy and grabbing round bouncy tits and her breathing quickened. Her fingers started to rub rather than stroke and she fell into the wonderful trance, feeling her body melt into the orgasm and then explode. She bit her lip, trying not to moan loudly – even when masturbating, she cried out when she came – and then she rode it, hard. She caught her breath for a moment and then recollected her thoughts, gathering her toiletries and returning to reality.

Annika started the shower, groaning in frustration as brown water spewed from the old twisted bronze faucet in the cracked tiles. She climbed into the cramped recess, watching the water begin to turn clear but not warm up. She didn't linger to enjoy herself as she usually did – she cleansed her skin and got out, using the only towel provided. Silent, she rushed her beauty routine and kept her hair in the bun. She felt crabby, she hoped they could leave this terrible place this morning. Even though she might run into the delectable Mia, she pulled on her small cut-off denim shorts and a singlet. Not a pretty outfit like her cherry dress, but at least it showed a lot of skin and was comfortable.

Chris was awake now and using his smartphone to check whether the storm had cleared. Annika wasn't listening as he tried to give her scientific reasons for what the booms probably were. "Can we just go down to the boat and leave?" she interrupted.

"You don't want breakfast here? There's a place down from the tavern that does a kind of chorizo omelette..."

"No."

Chris raised his eyebrows; he knew better than to engage her when she was in a bad mood and he helped her pack their bags in silence. They went downstairs to the lobby, which was empty. There was nobody at the desk and the stale air smelled like decayed books and burned bacon. Annika said impatiently, "For fuck's sake, just leave the key there! We paid our money for the lousy room so let's just go!"

To avoid her rising temper, Chris tossed the key onto the messy desk, watching it land on top of an open guestbook. He was a careful guy and even something small like this annoyed his sense of right, Annika watched it all over his broad handsome face. She smiled at him, charming him and grabbed his large hand in hers, pulling him out the heavy wooden doors and into the street. It was dank and humid yet cool, foggy; the streets were still wet from the rain the previous night. Few people were around; Annika thought it was perhaps early morning, after seven. The town didn't have many people circulating in the streets after they docked or in the evening, but seeing it this quiet, in a morning, was especially eerie. The oppressive air, paired with silence, bore down on them as they walked, their footfalls echoing.

"I can't even remember where the dock is," Annika grumbled, looking around the towering shops and buildings, claustrophobia settling in. "I hate this place, I am beginning to hate these towns, can we just go back to Amsterdam?"

"Sure, babe," Chris said, leading her down a small crevice-like alley and annoyance tore at Annika – Chris always had to take a creepy shortcut like this – and she followed his tall large form, for some reason thinking of the brick-walled hallway in Herman Hesse's 'Steppenwolf' and wondering whether there were alternate past memories or different realities behind the cramped little doors. Chris was talking about some mythos or cult this town used to have in the nineteenth century, he was such a history nerd and she wasn't in the mood like she usually was. She was thankful when they came out of the alley, into the docking area and the fog seemed less dense. She squinted down the jetty, trying to distinguish which hulking boat shape on the strangely flat water was theirs.

"Huh."

"What?" Annika looked at Chris, not liking the concern on his brow.

"I just don't see The Legend of Zelda."

"What?" Annika blinked at him and looked over to the dock, suddenly realising that she only saw fishing sloops and other smaller and older watercraft standing in the fog, tied to posts. Bright, white and large, Zelda had stood out yesterday as they had docked – ostentatiously so. Their girl – and their ride – was mysteriously gone.

"What the fucking fuck?" Annika spat, dropping her bag and looking around, wild-eyed and Chris placed his hands on her shoulders, placating her.

"Honey, I'll find some of the guys. Maybe they moved her?" But the look of uncertainty permeated his hazel eyes – a look that Annika simply was not used to seeing in his dependable face – and this made her almost hyperventilate.

"We're stuck here? We're fucking stuck here? In this creepy little fishing village? Oh hell no!"

"Annika," he said calmly. "Stay here, with the bags. I will be back. You just stay here and be cool."

She hated being told to be cool, it just wasn't in her nature. She glared hotly at his retreating back as he wandered down the dock, looking for someone. She sighed, squatting down onto the bags and trying to relax. There has to be a plausible explanation, she thought. She couldn't come up with one and she tried to ignore a group of men staring at her from buildings nearby. She wondered if it was her hair – most of the women she had seen in town were darkly brunette, perhaps her blondeness held a special novelty. She tried to regard them kindly but it came across as a scowl.

"It sank."

Annika jumped to her feet, staring at her husband in disbelief. He stood there, his face blank. He scratched his head, looking at the water, looking at the horizon, almost like he was hoping the yacht would reappear.

"The storm..." he said and his voice drifted off.

Annika noticed men near the docked boats staring and grinning. "It didn't sink," she said, gritting her teeth. "They sank our boat, Chris! They want us here! They're obsessed with me! They were obsessed from the moment we arrived and now they destroyed our boat, our only way out! What the hell do they want from us?"

"Shh," Chris hissed, taking her bare shoulders in his big comforting hands. "Look into my eyes, Annika."

She refused, still eyeballing the leering men. "They're still looking. They think this is great. They did it, I know it. You always accuse me of being dramatic – but this time, there is something to this!"

Chris persisted, his melodic voice calm, even. "If this is so, Annika. I agree this is suspicious. The storm did not seem vicious enough to sink such a large yacht. What is losing our cool going to do?"

Annika felt drained and flopped against him, burying her face into his huge chest. She wanted to cry. "What do we do?"

Chris paused, stroking her hair. Annika could almost feel him watching the men, his gaze methodical and intense. "We go back into town," he said. "We get some supplies and we hide whilst we work out what to do next."