The Harvest 11

She woke slowly, consciousness crawling back up from drug induced oblivion to a shattered body, raging pain in her back from a protracted sleep on a stone slab, the cold leeching all the way into her spine as she grimaced, rolling from the altar in the remains of a torn, shredded dress. Flashes of bright hot memory burst through her mental fog as she threw up over the stony ground, searing pain burned her throat as she dry heaved whatever noxious laced food had surrendered her to this oblivion.

Arms drawn in tight, cradling her ribs she stared bleary eyed into the cold darkness of the underground chamber, spying little detail other than the raised stone dais, the carved tunnels leading two and from the chamber, thought as to which was which she had no idea. Placing one shaky foot in front of the other she chose one of the two branching passages, placing her hand against the rough muddy earthen walls, partly to stabilise her shaking legs and partly to keep hold of something solid as she slowly crept her way into the hungering darkness.

Time lost meaning as she stumbled through the dark dank earthen passages, branching deeper and deeper into the mouldy labyrinth. More than once she came to an abrupt halt in the darkness, a slithering echo heralded by a knotting pit of dread in her aching stomach, she shrank back against the fetid wall, fingers gripping for purchase, perhaps to try a stone loose from the moss to defend herself. Her fingers sank into the cold dank mud, slick, slimy. She froze there for an eternity, straining to hear the slither again over the growling of her own stomach.

She struggled deeper into the haunting blackness till her hands vanished from in front of her face, a tentative hold on the earthen wall her only anchor point to anything solid, still she moved deeper into the dark. Her eventual reward was a slow, gentle increase in warmth that did little to soothe her aching muscles, only highlighting her aches and pains with the gentle reassuring wash of heat, she struggled deeper still, the earthen walls giving way to thicker veiny tendrils of plant life, the scent of old muck and roiling decay slowly turned sweeter with the growing warmth of air around her.

The air came thicker and sweeter, drawing the lost girl deeper into the hellish roil, her memory of sight decaying as she stumbled along the growing foliage that lined the wall of her prison, exhaustion and fear draining her strength with every tentative step, drawn deeper into the cavernous depth by the creeping warmth and beguiling floral sweetness that gradually eclipsed the scent of rot and loam.

When she spied the telltale greyscale shadow of her hand she first thought it some kind of trick of memory, but surely as she crept along the confining passageway she spied a ghostly glow emanating from deeper within, the foliage pressed in closer as she struggled, forced onto her knees, crawling, sinking into the mass of tendril vines, pressing for the growing heat and sickly sweet scent the promised light at the end of her dark path. Thorns bit and snagged her tattered rag of a dress, shredding fabric and skin with equal ease as he blood ran invisibly in the darkness, warm rivulets traced down her body nourishing the roots below.

All that mattered now was the light, her fingers slipped and slid along the lubricated vines, the constant stinging pain of fresh nicks and cuts, the eclectic mix of scents between sickening sweetness an coppery tang of her own lifeblood, the roots beneath her throbbed as she pushed deeper down the cavern, pulsating around her, questing to her open wounds, invisible to her eyes but grasping, squeezing and twisting against her body in undulating rhythm. Alien heat flushed through her body as the veiny tendrils sought to restrict her movement, panic lent her strength and dulled the pain as the vines lashed and whipped her exposed breasts and thighs, questing for pockets of flesh to squeeze and manipulate in perverse parody of a lovers caress.

She burst from the vine covered opening, collapsing weakly onto the undulating carpet of thick pulsating vines, she tried to press her palms into the growth, to force herself to her feet but the carpet of vines wrapped her wrists tight and pulled her arms apart, thorns digging into her flesh, she cried out weakly as the vines lifted her into the air slowly, bringing her closer to a central pulsing pod, the soft crimson glow pulsing as the pod seemed to shudder and breath, thick leaves peeling back spilling a brackish sickly sweet fluid over the cavern floor. The thorny vines wrapped and pulled at her limbs, lowering her into the pod, thick pulsing phallic tendrils pushed between her legs, struggling, fighting her her openings, unlike their thorny cousins, these thick muscular tendrils teased her body, secreting a numbing fluid that seemed to set her her body aflame with perverse sensation.

The first questing tendril pushed its way inside her virgin body, strong, thick, pulsing it fought through her waif form, peeling back as smaller micro roots flourished inside her, teasing her body for unnatural, alien ecstasy. Her screams echoed through the thick hot air, hellish delight betraying her virtue as her legs clamped around the violating tendrils, 3 more fought openly for her exposed ass, she felt them lapping and slapping at her forbidden entrance even as 2 more wrapped around her breasts and squeezed, micro tendrils latching onto her nipples. She fought for consciousness in the midst of the unholy assault, the pod began to close around her, the sizzling hot syrup liquid filling her floral tomb as the pods leaves began to seal her in, her final sight before veiny darkness stole her sight was a final tendril forcing its way down her throat, all the better to sustain its meal while the creatures sucked and fucked her body till her eventual ecstatic demise.

The men above nodded grimly as the last girlish screams died away from the well, the sacrifice would see to a good harvest this year...