Dark shadows filled Erin's bedroom as eerie light cast by the waning, full, October moon etched against the ebon sky filtered through the sheer, linen curtains covering the two windows. The hour had just ticked twelve o'clock, the bewitching hour on the nineteenth anniversary of Erin's birth, 31 October, ushering in the pagan festival of
Samhain
. In the Irish this night is
Oi'che Shamhna
, the final harvest.
In the Gaelic tongue it is the word for November since it falls on the eve of that night which in the secular world is known as Halloween or All Hallows Eve, "Holy Eve," the 1st of November being taken over by the Roman Catholic Church and called All Saints Day, the day to remember and honor all who died within the year.
In the pagan world this word referred to the God of the Dead, and it was on this day according to ancient folklore that the interfacing worlds between the living and the dead was at its thinnest thus making transitioning between them easier for ghosts and entities to pass through from the land of the living dead to the land of the living. This was a gift of the God of the Dead, and it was so believed among some of the living that on this night it was customary to set a place for the dead should one come within a household.
Now, it was also a part of pagan belief, a belief that still holds true today for those who believe in old superstitions, that these dead, the ghosts and entities, are enamored of humans and have sexual lust for both women and men. These ghostly entities are known by their gender, a female being a succubus and a male being an incubus. It is also believed that Satan, the Devil himself, often hungers for sexual relations with beautiful women.
Because of knowing about these sexual longings of the living dead for humans, Erin lay in her bed unable to fall asleep, her mind racing with images of such sexual assignations between the living and the dead. It had always been so since she was a young girl whose mind had been filled with ghostly stories told on the eve of Samhain, Halloween, in the shadowy glow of the smoldering peat embers in the fireplace in the living room. In Irish cottages sleeping rooms were not heated, and, therefore, they could become very cold.
Erin tossed and turned beneath her cotton sheet, lamb's wool blanket, and down comforter as her red hair flipped from side to side while she'd alternate squeezing her eyelids shut and staring into the darkness of her room with her sparkling green eyes at the shadowed images of familiar objects that took on new shapes in the darkness of night.
Finally, however, in the midst of her restless tossing and turning Erin fell into a deep sleep, her subconscious creating images of ghostly entities coming after her.
It was three o'clock in the morning, the bewitching hour when Satan and his followers entered into the world of the living...three o'clock in the morning because it was the exact opposite of three o'clock in the afternoon when Jesus died on the cross to free the world of sin and eternal death on what in the Christian Church is known as Good Friday...three o'clock in the morning when darkness rules as the evil counterpart to light...three o'clock in the morning when ghostly entities roam the night in search of humans with whom to enjoy sexual encounters of the pleasurable kind.
Because of its being cold in her bedroom, Erin had drawn her sheet; wool blanket; and green, down comforter over her head across the bridge of her nose, her breath helping to keep her warm.
While sound asleep with erotic images running through her head as if she were watching a video, Erin finally lay quite still on her back with her head propped up on two pillows and a third she had tucked beneath her knees. At some point Erin gradually became aware of a weight pressing against her body: pressure moving slowly against her legs and arms, pressure pushing against her breasts, pressure grinding against her abdomen and genital area.
Slowly, ever-so-slowly Erin was awakened as the pressure on top of her caused her breathing to become somewhat constricted by the weight.
Groggy with sleep Erin opened her eyes, gasping for breath as the pressure she felt on her body seemed alive. It was moving and undulating sinuously over her breasts, against her abdomen, and along her limbs.
These strange sensations on Erin's body were quite palpable for her. However, the muted darkness of the room allowed her to see only shadows etched by filtered moonlight, and her being frightened of the unknown filled her with horror tales of the dead who were free to roam the night during Samhain, tales about which Erin believed only to be what they were: horror stories to shock the imagination, causing goose flesh to form all over ones arms and legs.
However, that night of horrors seemed anything but her imagination running rampant with ghoulish thoughts. No, tonight was different. Erin not only had such macabre dreams deep within her active subconscious. She now felt this unknown pressure on top of her body moving at will. Not her will, but the will of some entity.
Erin felt a numbing cold against her body in her already cold room, a cold that penetrated beneath her covers, and, thus, trembling with uncontrollable fear, Erin stared down her body that was visible only because of the faint illumination of beams of moonlight passing through her sheer, linen curtains that were wafting lightly from the pinched breeze blowing between the cracks surrounding the window frames.
To her horror and mortal surprise Erin saw indentations on her comforter that looked stretched and distorted by whatever was causing the pressure moving against her body.
With her head now filled with fear of the unknown, Erin's imagination ran rampant with evil thoughts, and her scream due caught in her semi-paralyzed throat.
"Don't fret, my Lovely One," a soft, sultry, yet sinister voice said as if but the echo of a distant voice. "I'm not here to do you any harm. I'm here to give you pleasure and to take pleasure in the giving of it."
A cold chill ran through Erin's shivering body as she felt air against her left ear.
In the semi-darkness Erin moved her eyes back and forth and up and down, looking all around the room as best she could for the source of the voice she had just heard speak to her as she continued to feel the pressure moving against her recumbent body.
"Who...who are you?" Erin asked in a thin, soft, fearful voice. "What are you?"
Even though Erin had enough of her wits about her to ask questions of the unknown voice, she feared the response, fear of finding out who and what the source was.
"Not to worry, Sweet One. I'll give you a hint. This is the night of Samhain. Is it not?" asked the Entity.
"Ye....yes," Erin answered with as much bravado that she was able to put into her voice.
"Well, then. Is this not the night when the space between the worlds of the living and the living dead is most vulnerable to allow them to pass through and enter the world of the living?"
This fearful thought that Erin believed only to be a truism in the realm of ancient, Irish- folklore was now becoming the reality of it on this night of Samhain, and once again shivers of fear ran throughout Erin's consciousness as she now faced the fact that no longer was it a figment of her imagination that her subconscious allowed to run rampant in her mind, but it was real. The pressure she felt against her body, holding her down and preventing her to move was real. The voice that spoke to her was real.
This immediate reality, therefore, scared the living hell out of her.
"Bbbbbuuuuutttttt...."
"Oh, my child, no buts about it!" said the voice, still soft but still sinister. "This is all real. I'm real."
"But who are you then since you say you are real?" asked Erin timidly, now trying to control her fear.
In a very sweet voice the Entity answered Erin's questions.
"I, my Dear, am one of the living dead who on this night of nights found a crack large enough between our two worlds for me to enter. This crack was close to your house, and when I entered and saw you lying there so still and beautiful, I knew I just had to have you," the Entity sighed with uncontrollable passion.
"But," asked Erin, "who of the living dead are you? By the sound of your voice, you are a female Entity. Yes?"
"My, my, you are perceptive, my sweet Colleen, despite your fear," the Entity said soothingly.
Erin did not reply nor did she ask any more questions. Therefore, the Entity continued.
"I am what is called a succubus, a female Entity who in your world in which I once lived centuries ago is called a lesbian, a woman who loves women," the Entity sighed, drawing on found memories of her many lovers she had in the world of the living. "This was by choice, Dear."
"I lived as a lesbian and died as a lesbian," the Entity added, "and even though I'm now among the living dead I still have the same urges to make love with a woman, not another lesbian from my world but a beautiful, warm-bodied human woman such as yourself."
"But...but...I'm not a lesbian," said Erin innocently. "I've never made love with another woman; although, I have thought about it from time to time."
When the Entity heard Erin's timid confession about being drawn to girls and thinking of being with them in an amourous way, she was much pleased, and even though Erin could not see her, the Entity smiled salaciously at the very thought that before the night was over and she had to return to the land of the dead for another long year until the next night of Samhain, she would have the pleasure of introducing this young, beautiful, virgin girl to the joys of lesbian love.
"Oh, my, my, young Lady, you don't know how excited and sexually aroused you just made me by telling me I'll be your first woman with whom you'll have had the pleasure of enjoying the receiving and giving of lesbian love," the Entity whispered in her sexually-agitated state.
