Mavis' body rattled. Tremoring gently in a rhythmic, steady pattern. Her face lay expressionless and her flowing black hair covered half of it. Her features lightly shook with the rhythm. Mavis gave in to the seduction of exhaustion. Her motionless body shook, and her eyes rolled back as the dark oblivion consumed her.
The train home from work rattled her as it rambled along the old metal tracks. It shook her, lulling her to the black timeless void of sleep. It had been a long day. The new guy at work, Ben, was still silent as ever, but he filled her mind with needs. It was the way he looked at her, as if trying to devour her with his eyes.
Thankfully she had the next day off due to it being Halloween. She was in no mood for visitors, though she wanted to have Ben with her, doing things to her. She felt so uneasy about how he made her feel. She wasn't a confident woman and he could see that. She had never really been satisfied by a guy before, she barely knew how to flirt and she all of a sudden found herself overtaken with a hungry arousal for Ben every time she saw him. She didn't like it.
The train continued its rhythmic chugging. A visitor or two tonight might be nice, maybe some little monsters wanting candy, but preferably not. No matter, she had planned a night in with Lucy. Mavis had a playlist of monster movies to stream, she had popcorn, pumpkins, alcohol, the whole package.
Darkness was gradually falling across the country side. It was heavy for six o'clock in the evening, even in the last days of November. A thick fog loomed and slithered through the wet fields. Again, a thick arousal drifted through her body under her work clothes at the thoughts of Ben having his twisted way with her. Mavis slipped in and out between a blank abyss and reality. She was warm on the train. She rested her head on the curtain bunched up at her side. The train jolted her awake once again and she groggily looked out her cold window.
Through the trailing condensation on the dirty glass, she saw dark figures in the gloomy, grey, foggy fields. Trees and cows of course. Although her mind played at the idea that they were a hoard of the undead rising from the earthy pit that they had once considered a resting place. Now they were free to prowl and wreak gory desolation across humanity.
The loud, incoherent drone of an announcement rang through the train carriage that the next stop was imminent. Mavis' stop. Time to force herself back up from the comforting dead reverie of exhaustion, and walk home.
"Better not let the zombies get you, Mavy," she thought absently to herself in a voice that wasn't hers. A voice that just entered her head. A dark and crackling growl of a voice.
As the train began to slow, in a field adjacent to the station, Mavis could see what looked like the blackest kind of dark, an unnatural darkness, materialise in the dense, dank fog. A floating, pulsating, living and a quite aggressive ball of black smoke. In the center was the figure of something familiar. A dark male figure, bare from head to foot, tall and muscular, was walking along beside the train. Its feet gliding above the ground, moving as if taking graceful, deliberate and menacing footsteps. Its eyes were on her. They looked at her in a familiar way. A familiar feeling of unwarranted and uncontrolable arousal came over her. It was unsettling, but good. Those were Bens eyes. Drawing her in. How could it be? Ben is Caucasian. The naked black figure waved at her, and a soul disturbing grin spread across its charred and crackled lips. It clutched her in its grasp, as if trying to pull her from her seat. Disrobe her. Strip her limb from limb.
The train let out a long, strained honk that jolted Mavis awake. Breathing hard and fighting a stupor she looked around to find the train in the station and filling up with new people. She silently shook with the arousal, wrestling it into submission. Mavis then gathered her things, left the cabin, and sheepishly began her walk home from the platform. As she left the station she shot a dubious look to a man that was checking her out and wasn't being discreet about it.
Keeping to the street lit footpaths, Mavis made her way through the dark walk ways of her town, passing all manner of decoration in closed shop windows. The fog was a bit thinner with the orange lights looming above, that wasn't saying much because she could barely see clearly. The whole world that was so real to her seemed drowned in an ethereal, depthless, thick grey and orange haze. The air was so cold, so humid, and she gritted her teeth as it caressed her warm skin through her clothes in an unwelcome breeze.
Mavis lifted her head to scan about her, the street was mostly quiet save for a car or two. In the blurry distance she caught sight of something. Moving. An intense chill wriggled up her spine and up into her cranium. Deep inside her skull. Her breath staggered and she stopped dead in her tracks. Her teeth clacked and chattered as a deep cold came upon her and from within her. A dark cold. A decayed, but living cold. Those weren't just chills. She felt hands between her legs, countless hands all over her body, she couldn't move. They were under her clothes on her bare flesh. Skitterning, sliding and grabbing at her body all over, even in her sensitivive places.
The black hands were rough, they groped her. Poked, prodded, fondled. They squeezed her breasts and pinched her nipples. Pulling her hair. Grabbing her, and sinking fingernails into her very soul, as if to try and choke her of even that. She heard pleasurous but agonised, howling moans all around her. Masculine howls, femanine screams, of agony, torture and pure euphoria. Deep in her brain. As her arousal heightened all she was aware of was the wails that possessed her senses. Wails that heightened in agony and pleasure as her fear and arousal grew more intensely with each pinch or fondle.
The hands continued to molest her. Clawing at her. Digging in. Crawling along her skin. Inside it and underneath it. Touching her up in some debauched and devious foreplay. Touching her very soul with their frozen and insistent assault.
She couldn't understand it. That dark figure was so far away and yet it seemed like it had her. It seemed like it was inside her. In more ways than one, in every way.
Fingers were creeping farther up her thighs. A warm tingling flooded her depths. The fierce and raw arousal swept over her whole body, adding to the sensations of the violent and painful hands. She stood frozen in the misty night, her breath materialising in front of her as it rapidly exited her mouth. A bubbling, rising, wriggling feeling erupted up inside her and some dark fingers exited from her throat, and others entered her mouth. Even more entered her flaming, wet pussy.
"BOO!" Yelled a young man in a cheap skeleton mask from out of nowhere as he jumped at Mavis. She doubled over, flinching in fright and put her hands up to protect herself, letting out a cry of fear.
"Jeez, lady, somebody is taking Halloween too seriously!" the skeleton chuckled in surprise and moved off with his group of evil dead, waving a half empty bottle of vodka around at his posse. Mavis could smell the alcohol on them.
