Debauchery Falls Ch 08

*** Disclaimer ***

The following story may contain themes of hypnosis, mind control, non-consent, paranormal, cheating, cuckoldry, voyeurism, incest, gang bangs, and other forms of debauchery. This may not be the story for you.

This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are at least 18 years of age. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Debauchery Falls chapter 08

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Darkness. Darkness had always scared her. Especially the way the eyes would appear and follow her. No matter what, they always found her, and they kept coming. She would shriek, and she would cower between the car seats.

As an adult, she knew it was silly-- to be afraid of headlights. But to the little girl that she once was, they were terrifying. They looked like the searching eyes of monsters, out to get her.

Andrea found herself as that little girl again. She was buckled into the backseat of her mother's car. She was trembling, despite the thick winter coat that swaddled her. Her parents used to laugh, that it made her waddle like a teddy bear.

"I want to show you something," her mother turned from the front seat, a warm smile on her face. "Don't be afraid."

And even though Andrea was, she nodded.

She could still remember the way her mom's car always smelled like spearmint gum. Alvin and the Chipmunks were singing Christmas songs through the speakers.

Each time headlights appeared beyond the glass, Andrea resisted the urge to hide.

But then there were lights everywhere. Not just the 'bright eyes' (as she called them)... but eyes in the trees. Eyes on the buildings. Eyes in windows. Thousands of them. Like stars. They twirled around buildings. They sparkled. Some were white, and some were colorful shades of reds and greens and blues and pinks.

She gasped. It was all too stunning for her to be afraid. Why were there so many bright eyes?

The town within a short drive of their home was nicknamed "The Christmas City". Andrea had never seen it before now... or at least this was the first time she would be old enough to remember it.

For the rest of the drive, Andrea stopped being afraid. She was too awed by the sight. There must have been a million of them. Lights strung from every tree, every post, every building façade. Shops were decorated with twinkling lights and warm candles. People were buying trees from corner lots, and they walked the sidewalks with winter coats and shopping bags.

Not only did Andrea not look away, but she couldn't stop looking. Her face went from window to window. The lights reflecting back in her eyes.

Her mother turned in her seat and smiled. A warm loving smile. "See that, Andy?" She asked. "It's all just lights. And lights aren't anything to be afraid of. They're something to enjoy. Because light makes people happy."

Andrea smiled back at her mother.

"I love you." Mom said. But the image wobbled. Her mother wavered and began to fade.

Like a sick joke, the blackness took over, and even the millions of lights couldn't hold it back.

"No, mom. Don't go!" Andrea cried out. But her mother was already gone. And the lights. And the Christmas City. She was alone again.

A voice calling to her from the darkness, carrying her out of it. "Wake up, Miss Teen Angst. It's over." There was a familiarity to it.

Andrea's eyes fluttered open and she found herself laying in a grassy field staring up at a cloudy night sky. Heat lightning flickered. She was damp and warm. Water and mud was caked on her bare legs. Bolts of pain were running up her neck to the top of her scalp.

Standing over her was a woman.

For a moment, all Andrea could see was her mother. And without thinking, Andrea threw her arms around the crouched woman and began to weep. "Mommy, I'm so sorry."

Galloway was momentarily stunned. Unsure of what to do, Galloway merely hugged the girl back for several moments, soothing her. Then reality sank in slowly. Not her mother. Maroon hair, ice blue eyes, a baseball cap, a vest like SWAT, and torn jeans. The dream vanished and reality came roaring back. Not her mother. Galloway-- the crazy woman who'd been looking out for her in this nightmare that she could not awaken from. The soldier was bruised and dirty. Blood was running from the corner of her mouth, one nostril, and a bad scratch on her cheek.

To one side, Andrea spied Quinn helping her father to his feet. Both men were shaken, a little rattled, but unharmed. Dad was brushing mud from his pants and Quinn was gripping his shotgun, watching the tree line.

"Sorry," Andrea let go of Galloway. Her voice was soft and subdued. A blush lingered on her cheeks.

"That was a first for me too," Galloway admitted, then helped the girl to her feet.

"Are we alive?" Andrea asked.

"Afraid so."

"What happened?" Andrea was rubbing her neck. It hurt. She had bruises on her arms and legs, but otherwise, she was okay.

"We came down the hill... we went right through the trees," Galloway explained. "A bit of off-roading. We literally just cleared the woods, when you slipped off the bike. I was about two seconds away from bringing us to a stop. We couldn't have been moving more than five miles per hour, and you fell off, which threw me off. I tipped the damn bike."

"I can't believe we survived that," Brad Tanner joined them. He and his daughter threw their arms around each other, hugging tightly. The tears were still in Andrea's eyes, but now they were ones of relief.

"All told, neither can I," Quinn piped up.

Brad paled. "You were the one driving."

Quinn just shrugged. It was honest dumb luck that they hadn't both been killed, but he left it at that.

Andrea felt a weight dangling from her arm and when she realized what it was, she couldn't resist a triumphant smile. Galloway's rifle. She hadn't managed to lose it, after all.

She handed it back to the soldier.

Even Galloway was impressed. "Oh you're good," she said.

"You're welcome, by the way," Andrea smirked, trying to mirror one of Galloway's cool, calm facial expressions.

"What now?" Brad said, nervously regarding the tree line behind them, expecting their pursuers to emerge at any moment.

"The bikes are shot," Galloway assessed them both.

"We laid 'em down pretty good," Quinn agreed.

"It's all on foot from here." Galloway led. Quinn brought up the rear. Their boots swishing through the grass as they headed for the nearest tree line.

Andrea fell into step beside Galloway. The entire walk, her eyes were drawn to the soldier. Her face, her arms, her body, her stride.

Galloway took notice from the corner of her eye, but opted to say nothing.

Andrea said it first. She couldn't stop herself. "My mom died." It seemed so inappropriate to just blurt this out to Galloway. She'd just met the woman tonight. But that dream... that memory... it was still just behind her eyes. Each time she blinked, she could see the Christmas lights and her mom's comforting smile. She felt compelled to explain everything. From the cabin, to the dream, to the unexpected and desperate hug.

"I see," Galloway said. Her expression softened, but she remained stoic, like a therapist.

"It was last year."

"But you still feel it."

"I miss her," Andrea said. It was the most she'd opened up about this since she got the news. Until now, she'd shut down completely. Built a wall. Changed her personality, her clothing, her appearance. She'd shut out her sister and her father. She couldn't hold it in anymore. She had to say it out loud, and it felt good.

"And you always will," Galloway said knowingly. "It's normal."

"I've been so shitty... to my dad... to Emily..." She looked down at herself as she walked. Her bare legs hardly covered at all. Her tiny skirt showing far too much. She plucked at it, looking at her black painted nails. She didn't say the last part aloud, although they both knew what she'd left out-- that she'd been shitty to herself.

"Kid, I'm not the best person to ask about grief. Believe me," Galloway sighed. "This isn't meant to be a lecture. No matter how much it hurts, don't be an asshole. Least of all to yourself. But you do what you have to do to make the pain go away."

Andrea swallowed, and nodded, considering this.

"I was shot once," Galloway said after a brief silence. "Way before I was GI Jane. I wasn't much older than you, in fact."

Andrea blinked at her. Galloway smiled and pointed to her shoulder. It was hard to spot. An ornate sleeve tattoo disguised it well. But in the center of the rose tattoo, sat a little round scar.

"I worked at a shitty casino as a guard. Me and Quinn both did... back when we were only just fuck buddies," she gestured over her shoulder to her sergeant. "So one night, this group of assholes robs the cashier cage. Their plan went to shit. I'm not really sure why... but they just started shooting. It was all so senseless. I watched a lot of people die that night. Including some very good friends. That's something I deal with every single day." Her eyes had grown distant. "That's something me and Quinn *both* deal with every day. Because we both lost the same things that night. I'm a pretty fucked up person," she grinned, not ashamed to admit it. "But I'd be way more fucked up if I'd have lost him that night too."

Andrea just listened. She found herself glancing at her own father. He was walking behind them, with his head down and his eyes on the dirt. Her heart broke for him. She really hadn't been kind to him lately. Which sucked, because he was dealing with the same pain that she was.

It wasn't hard to see what Galloway was alluding to. "I should stop being a bitch."

Galloway gave a derisive snort. "Be a bitch. I know I am, and I'm hot as fuck. My point is, stop being such a rogue. Especially with the people that you know you love."

"Who would have thought tonight would be a therapy session for me?" Andrea said, trying to sound sarcastic, but the sincerity was authentic.

"Because a girl like you would need to be shot at to actually listen."

They both laughed at that.

But as they stepped into the trees, the forest suddenly came alive with headlights. For one horrifying moment, Andrea flashed back to her childhood phobia, and realized that these really were the eyes of monsters, and they'd found her. Standing in a ring around the vehicles were men. Some were in hoods and robes. Some in ill-fitting hunting jackets and flannel and jeans pulled snug over hard bodies. Angry faces, prison tattoos, and cultists.

And among them, a familiar voice. Soothing in a detached way that was devoid of all reality. A voice that they would listen to.

"Oh, I don't think shooting at you lovely ladies will be necessary. I think you'll listen just fine," Abernathy smiled at them.

And indeed, they listened...

***

They left the Lantern Glow Inn behind, and ventured southeast, toward the last noted position of Chaney, Lincoln, and Poe.

Halley found herself both annoyed and charmed at the way that Jessup and Brubaker stayed protectively close to her. Closer than normal, anyway. Is that all it took to buy their cooperation and watchfulness? She merely had to give them the fucking of their lives, and they'd refocused considerably. They'd been subdued. She thought it amusing.

They spotted the break in the trees-- the muddy tracks that went deeper into the gloom. Halley called a huddle near some hedges. Both men regarded her eagerly.

"One of the last things Lincoln mentioned before all hell broke loose was an old church," she kept her voice to barely a whisper. Their heads nearly crammed together to hear... not that any of them minded at this point. "She said Poe and Chaney were there. I'm willing to bet that's where we'll find them."

The men nodded their agreement.

"Anyone have any concerns before we do this?"

They shook their heads.

"Okay, this is getting annoying," Halley sighed. "I gave you pussy, not a kidney. I miss when you guys griped like little bitch-babies."

Brubaker snickered. "It was good pussy," he conceded. "It shut him up." He gestured to Jessup.

The rookie reddened.

Halley allowed herself a grin. "Brubaker, you take point." The older man nodded, and started slowly toward the trees.

She turned to Jessup. "You, watch my back."

"Yes ma'am," he replied. His expression much more determined than it had been earlier this evening.

Her smile lingered. "Just don't get too distracted," Her face was serious. But the little swing to her hips, that she gave wasn't. She knew the young officer glanced at it.

Even as the trio moved into darkness, Halley was a little pleased with herself. She knew the young hothead would follow her without question. She'd given him something that he wanted, and even better than he'd imagined it would be. She knew how young smitten men worked-- he'd want to do it again. He needed that reassurance that he might get another opportunity. Truth be told... even Halley had to admit that it had been gooooood. She never much thought of herself as a cheater. She was practical-- she acted out of necessity. But she had urges like everyone else. She'd told herself that what she'd done with her soldiers had been for morale, to gain control of the situation, to motivate them, and to calm them. Yet there was no denying they'd connected, and the kid was much better than she'd imagined. If she could find a way to justify it to herself... she wouldn't mind some extra curricular 'training' with the rookie.

The trees formed a canopy overhead, and although the rain had died down, beneath the leaves, the sound of the drops was amplified. Distant thunder rumbled, and a thick fog was rolling slowly through the gaps in the forest.

Halley didn't like it. This part of the forest felt dark and heavy with a sensation of wrong. It called to mind the old macabre versions of fairy tales. They'd stepped out of the town and into a world of shadows and bad dreams.

The little trio drew tighter together. Brubaker just in front of her, Jessup, breathing down her neck. Halley resisted the urge to take both soldiers by the hand, just to reassure herself.

The church seemed to materialize from the darkness. One moment, the path was empty and dark. Then, as if the fog had lifted, there it stood. The three had frozen at the sight of it.

Finally Brubaker softly exhaled. "Who do you think lives there? The Big Bad Wolf? Or Edward Scissor-hands?"

Nobody could argue with his appraisal. The architecture was dark and looming-- eerie and gothic. But the forest was reclaiming it. Vines and growth had wormed their way up the walls. The roof was furry with dense moss. The steeple had a broken lean to it, threatening to topple the building.

But despite the dilapidated conditions, the place was aglow with the flicker of candles. There must have been hundreds lit beyond the glass, because the soft orange light radiated into the forest around them, giving the sight a surreal quality. The candle light was wildly out of place.

They watched from the shadows for several minutes, waiting for something to happen. When it didn't, Jessup spoke up first. "I don't want to go in."

"Me, neither," Halley agreed.

"But we're going to?"

She merely nodded.

"Don't suppose I can distract you by talking you into another round of sex?" he tried to force the joke, but it came out nervous and dry.

"Maybe later," she answered frankly, distracted as she readied her pistol.

They crept up to the church doors as a team. This was asking for trouble, they knew it. But for the sake of their missing men, they needed to investigate further.

Voices could be heard beyond the heavy ancient doors, though nothing discernable could be made out.

Halley and Brubaker glanced at each other, then nudged the doors open. The orange light of the candles spilled across their shocked faces as they took in the sight before them.

They'd all been expecting to find something weird. A candle-lit mass of hooded lunatics maybe. Human sacrifice. Even a bunch of old ladies playing bingo would have made more sense.

Instead, they'd walked into an orgy. An orgy in the center of the church. The smell of sweat wafted over the scent of the candles and incense. The sound of moans filled the room, like a choir from the dirtiest, most perverse corners of their imagination.

Dozens of naked bodies, writhing and moving all at the same time among the rows of pews. Halley spotted two college-aged kids. She recognized them from her research as missing twins from Jasper Falls. They'd come from a good home, a good upbringing, and good education. Now they sat in the back row pew, making out in a frenzy, as though it was their last night on earth. They were both naked, the girl's body moving smoothly up and down her brother as beads of sweat ran down their skin. Their mouths refused to part.

In another corner, three men and two women were in a tangle, rolling all over each other, trying to access each other's mouths, cocks, and whatever other areas they wanted to lick, suck, and fuck.

A row up, a middle aged redhead, with big plump breasts that had begun to sag with age, was cramming the upturned heads of two young men into her tits. They were the muscular type-- corn-fed football jocks from the most rural parts of the state. They were suckling at her milk bags like she was feeding them.

A cultist with his hood still on, was lounging back in his pew as two women were sucking at his upturned pecker. There was an age disparity between the women, and it dawned on Halley that they were mother and daughter. Halley was very worried who might be under that hood, that the pair of sinners were fellaciating. The answer would probably nausea her.

"Holy shit," Jessup nudged Halley and pointed. Near the front of the church, they spotted them-- Lincoln, Poe, and Chaney-- their missing recon officers. Like most of the attendees to this church of the unholy, the soldiers were in various states of undress, and completely not themselves. All situational awareness was lost in the frenzy of fornication that they were engaged in.

Britt Lincoln was on all fours, like a dog. She was completely nude, except for her combat boots. Her tattoos and piercings on display. Behind her, Poe's short wiry frame was gripping her by the ass. He was driving his dick in and out of her body. The way the two of them moved were like animals mating on a nature show. There was a hurried urgency about the display. And at Lincoln's upturned mouth, Chaney's thick fat cock was appearing and disappearing in and out of her lips, again and again. How the female soldier wasn't choking was beyond them. Neither man was letting up. They were leveraging her agile body back and forth like a jointly shared fuck doll. Boys sharing a toy at the same time.

Lincoln's eyes were rolled back in her head-- they could only see the whites. She was grunting and moaning. They all were. The room was echoing with the mindless cries of the damned.

And at the altar, leading the sermon of sin-- an extremely tall and broad shouldered man with a bullet-shaped head. He must have been seven feet tall, at least. His arms were packed with muscle and prison tattoos. One giant fist wrapped in bandages. An absolute bull of a man. In front of him, bent over, gripping the podium in a death-grip was a bouncy little slut that Halley recognized as Lizzy Pierson-- one of the missing towns people. Her huge tits wobbled and shook. She flung her hair back from her freckled face, and cried out in a high shrill shriek of pleasure as the convict relentlessly stuffed her tight body with a cock that could only be compared to a baseball bat.