A loud clap of thunder echoed across Brentonville, an unassuming mountain town nestled along the outskirts of St. Louis. Founded by it's Germanic settlers in the seventeenth century, it became a picturesque setting for those fortunate enough to plant their roots there. A Mountainous terrain wrapped around the sprawling town centre and the webs of suburban streets that surrounded it, creating a mesmerising sight that bordered on being paradisic.
But such beauty was marred by the myths and legends that had plagued the town since the days of its founding, with rumours of satanic cults, paranormal activities and demonic happenings persisting in spite of the decades of effort the town's council had put into debunking the unfounded stories. Out of all the stories that plagued Brentonville, few had lasted as long as the legend of the Mutterzüchterin, an abomintaion the German settlers believed occupied a schism between Earth and the hellish worlds beyond.
However, the frequent arrival of tourists looking to experience such 'abnormalities' for themselves led to certain locals embracing the myths, particularly during the month of October. A number of local businesses took advantage of the notoriety of Brentonville, creating their own merchandise, turning into tourist traps to lure in a much needed influx of external revenue. It was a novelty that could be tolerated for the sake of a lucrative source of income, even if the inhabitants themselves didn't buy into such outlandish claims of unexplainable occurrences.
The rolling thunder reverberated towards the furthest edges of the town, causing one seemingly ordinary suburban home to shudder slightly more than the rest, hard enough for the contents within to rattle delicately. Bright, electric flashes illuminated the rain soaked streets, forking out across the mass of undulating dark clouds looming in the evening sky. Pounding rain splattered against the windows, streaming across the glass, making it almost impossible for those inside to get a clear view of the neighbourhood beyond.
Rebecca Winter turned her head when another flash filtered into the bedroom, accompanied by the slightest flicker of the interior lights. Powering through the discomfort the storm brought with it, she rose from the edge of her bed to look at the progress of her work. A thrill shot through her as she inspected her reflection, noticing all the little details that had been neglected for so long, enhanced and highlighted by by a few of her old makeup application techniques. She plucked her long brunette hair with her black acrylic nails, teasing her tresses to give them some extra volume, attempting to imitate her ideal 'sex hair' look.
Stepping back just far enough to get a full reflection of herself, she closely examined the dress she had recently purchased from a cheap clothing outlet during her lunch break at work. A figure hugging, black vinyl mini-dress contoured to her curvy hourglass waist, flowing across her bust and hips like an inky river, barely reaching the middle of her thighs. Her upper chest was covered with a dark mesh that extended across her arms, held up by the thin vinyl collar wound around her neck. It gleamed beneath the lamp light, creating a tempting sight with the way it poured across her rear.
Rebecca took a moment to pace back and forth, testing out her newly acquired strappy black platform shoes, trying to familiarise herself with their height and pencil thin heels, having long exchanged such extravagant footwear for something more sensible once she had entered motherhood. She appreciated the way they enhanced her legs, gratified that all the time and effort she had spent both at the gym and on early morning jogs around the neighbourhood hadn't gone to waste.
With a quick roll of her ruby lipstick across her full, carved lips, Rebecca turned to scrutinise the bedroom. Everything appeared perfect, ready and waiting for the passionate night that awaited her and her husband, Mark. The linen bedsheets were covered with a layer of still fresh rose petals, a bottle of champagne sat within a steel ice bucket on the bedside table, with a set of crystal flutes just within reach of the bed. Rebecca spotted her phone close by, docked in a speaker system, already set with her playlist for the night. Twisting the dial for the dimmer, Rebecca turned it until she achieved the perfect mood, dominated by the flickering light of the candles lining almost every piece of furniture, feeling her excitement growing immensely once everything was in place.
The thirty-eight year old wife and mother had spent weeks planning the perfect anniversary experience, desperate to achieve the level of sexual spontaneity she and her husband had once shared before the stresses of life arrived. Having met during what had been both their final year at college, the pair quickly fell into a whirlwind of romanticism, spending far more time than they perhaps should have in bed rather than studying. After their graduation, they spent the first few months putting together their plans for starting a life for themselves, moving into a shoddy, but affordable apartment, working to the bone to make names for themselves in their respective fields.
Rebecca's ambitions in project management led to her making a return to college to acquire her post-graduate degree, hoping it would be the gateway to the heights she wanted to achieve. She couldn't have been more appreciative for Mark's support, picking up overtime to keep their finances afloat during the year she spent back at college. Fortunately, the hard work benefited the budding family greatly, allowing Rebecca to take up a position at 'Mullin's Contractors' one of their city's rapidly growing construction firms, ascending through the hierarchy just within her first few years.
Purchasing their first home, a newly built four bedroom house constructed upon the continually stretching web of suburbs, it didn't take long for their family to grow. Samantha arrived first, with Robert following just over four years later. Before the young couple realised it, they were locked on the path of an average middle-class American family, stuck in a routine consisting of school runs, work, and mortgage payments. Rebecca and Mark's love for one another never faded, but there was little they could do to prevent the passion from dissipating with each year that passed, especially by the time their respective careers started to take up much of their potential free time.
With their fourteenth anniversary just around the corner, Rebecca immediately set to work. The weeks leading up to it were spent putting her plan together, buying everything from new, sexy outfits, to any sort of decoration she felt would create the most intimate setting possible. Despite keeping the details of the night in question vague whenever her husband inquired about them, Rebecca still dropped enough hints to instil a sense of anticipation in him. Once arrangements had been made to get the kids away for the night, there was nothing stopping them from reigniting the flames of passion.
Adding the finishing touches, Rebecca grabbed a bottle of her favourite perfume and applied it, smiling when the sweet scent made it to her nostrils. A small frown appeared on her beautiful face when another shudder of thunder caused the bedroom to vibrate gently, though not enough to send anything toppling over. It was hardly the calm night she had envisioned when putting the plans for the anniversary together, especially when the weather stations had all predicted a clear, summer's night. But the unexpected storm was hardly enough to dampen down her excitement.
However, a violent flash of lightning filled the room, bright enough for its forks to temporarily blur Rebecca's vision, sending her stumbling slightly until her hand caught the edge of her vanity cabinet. Blinking away the stars in her eyes, the housewife found herself standing in near darkness, with nothing but the burning candles preventing the bedroom from being shrouded in a pitch black blanket.
"Mom!" Robert's voice carried over from the downstairs landing, loud enough to send Rebecca's maternal instincts into action.
Grabbing her silk dressing gown from the antique bench sat at the foot of the bed, hurrying to wrap it across her body, tying the cinch around her waist, hoping to keep the dress beneath it concealed. Another shout from her youngest sent the mother snatching her phone from its cradle and dashing from the bedroom, failing to notice the black, slimy substance staining the thick white carpet that squelched beneath her heels as she felt her way around. Tightly holding the handrail, Rebecca cautiously stepped down the stairs, almost tripping more than once.
Arriving at the foot of the stairs, she quickly turned her head, feeling her eyes slowly adapting to the darkness. A scuttling in the the kitchen lured her towards it, thankful to find the glow of phone screens lighting her way. As soon as she crossed the threshold, three different phone flashlights turned on her, with the sudden brightness nearly blinding her.
"Hey, could you guys put those down?" Rebecca asked, holding a hand over her eyes. Removing it when the lights shifted away, the mother took stock of the trio standing around the kitchen island, sighing in relief when they all appeared unharmed, if a little shaken. A shimmer at the corner of her eye brought her focus down to the glass bowl that had shattered, covering the tiled floor with its endless shards. "What happened? I heard Robert shouting. Are you alright, sweetie?"
