The village of Ashes Hollow, deep in the English countryside, was infamous at this time of year. Not for the usual reasons, of dressing up as vampires, zombies or creatures of the night, not for children's party games or trick or treat, but for something altogether more sinister. Something happened in Ashes Hollow each Halloween, and try as they might, no one it seemed could solve the mystery.
Jenny had heard the stories all her life. When she was a young child, the stories were taken out of context and used as a warning of the dangers of being a young girl, outside in the Hollow alone at night, like the boy who cried wolf and other such moral tales. They left out the real details of course, they were not meant for young ears. Suffice to say that the children of Ashes Hollow were told to be on their best behaviour all year round, and to stay indoors on Halloween, lest they be snared by the Monster of Ashes Hollow. She remembered they had even turned it into a bestselling children's book, "The Monster of Ashes Hollow", complete with pop-up pictures of young girls being swallowed whole by the slimy green monster.
By the age of 16, the story was told to her in a different light, and it was through studying local history at school, that she learnt the true nature of what happened to women of all ages who had been snared by the mysterious monster. Indeed, there was little evidence at all of what the monster really looked like, or even if it was a monster, but what was known was what happened to its victims. What was known was that every Halloween for the past 50 years, a group of women of various ages, usually unknown to one another, were found somewhere in the Hollow, victims of a terrifying ordeal at the hands of the 'monster'. They were not dead when they were found, no it was much worse than that, or so you were told.
The only link police had found between any of the hundreds of victims over the years was that they were all women, and all were virgins, or at least they were before the monster came.
When she first heard this, Jenny's maturing sexual curiosity wondered how bad it could possibly be. She was already developing an intrigue for all things sexual and pleasurable. But she didn't know the full story, the full shocking ordeal that these girls had gone through. But for Jenny the details weren't important, it still felt like some moral tale, a tale invented by the elders of the town to keep young girls from wanting to express their sexuality, that the monster could somehow sense the dirty secrets, the disgusting desires in a girl with loose morals. That she should purge all erotic thoughts from her mind, lest her virginity be stolen by this monster in the most sickening way possible.
She believed the stories. She just wasn't scared by them. She dug deeper into the annals of history in her spare time, finding more and more out about the cases, about the victims, but it did not whet her appetite for sex. She once joked to the librarian that if all the victims were virgins, wouldn't it make sense for all girls to become sexually active as soon as they reached the age of consent, simply to offset the chance of it happening. A good idea she thought. He did not, the librarian frowned upon her outspokenness, it just was not right for a girl to be so fascinated in the story.
She was warned by him, that her interest in the story was unwelcome. That she needed to drop it, to think and live pure and chaste in her head and in her heart, until her wedding day. That no good could come from her delving into the darkness, and she was told never to come back to the library after that, and for a long while she dropped it. She still thought about it, thought about what it would be like, but she kept it to herself, and only the librarian ever knew about her interest in the stories.
At aged 19, a girl who had been in her class at school disappeared on Halloween, and never came back. The shocking truth was discovered quickly, as detectives in the area had gotten well used to this kind of thing by now. And all Jenny's research into what had happened to each and every victim of the monster for the last fifty years was lived out in someone she knew in real life. It brought it all back up again, back to the forefront, and Jenny felt compelled to get involved.
Jenny visited her and her family in the weeks after the tragedy. Claire was the girl's name. Jenny didn't know her well, but she knew of her reputation, for being unclean in the head, for entertaining ideas that women should not. Bobby Davis, a horrible boy from school, had claimed he once caught Claire masturbating in her room when he was round her house visiting her brother, and other stories of her sexual impropriety were soon being aired in public via the press, as happened every year. But it had never happened to someone Jen knew before.
Jenny considered what the press might write about her, if she ever became a victim. There were plenty of stories in her head, plenty of juicy tales she wanted to live out, but so far no one else was aware of anything different in her. She had kept it all to herself. Never been caught, much as she fantasised about it, even put herself in positions where she could be caught. But no, it had never happened. Her head was probably just as depraved as Claire's, if not more, but no one knew.
Nevertheless, she was a sure thing to be a victim in the future if she didn't get laid, but it wasn't likely to happen any time soon. Not in Ashes Hollow. She thought about Claire. Everyone knew her reputation. Boys were dissuaded from going anywhere near girls like her, and for some reason they steered clear. Jenny couldn't quite believe that. Anywhere else in the country, a boy finds out that a girl has all these dirty, all-encompassing fantasies, this sexual desire unrestrained, and they would be battering the door down, fighting to be the first to penetrate her innocence. But not here, not in Ashes Hollow. They had another story for boys that kept them in line, much to Claire's disappointment, but that as we have said is another story. For Jen it was different, no one knew about her desires, she didn't have that reputation, but even so, boys seemed repelled by her.
It wasn't that Jenny wasn't attractive. She was very attractive as it happens. Long jet black hair flowing down to her backside, green eyes, large shapely breasts and curvaceous body. She often looked herself and the mirror, and asked herself why boys didn't find this attractive. She had studied the naked female form herself, in secret of course, and she knew she looked good. A woman, a strong sexually-charged woman, curls of dark hair covering her groin. She was naturally very hairy, and she saw it as a sign of her womanhood, maybe that's what scared boys off, how womanly she was? Whatever it was, she didn't care too much, she was happy fantasising about it, and touching herself at night in bed, or in the bath, or the shower, or whenever she could.
Jenny wanted to visit Claire at the Ashes Hollow Mental Asylum, which housed almost all of the victims of the monster. She was not allowed there. No one was. She knew why from her research, but she had always been curious to see it for herself. The incurable disease is how some described it; possessed by the very definition of sin itself said others. She had to see it; she had to experience it for herself. She had to get inside.
Once the stories started coming out in the press, the victim's families always quickly disowned their children. The reports delving into Claire's disgraceful past were humiliating for her family as any other that had ever had a child taken in this way.
"Better off dead!" they would always say. And as far as Claire's family was concerned, she was dead. Dead and buried in Ashes Hollow Mental Asylum.
Jenny went to see them first, at the family home. A vain hope, that they would take her to see their daughter in the asylum. Families were the only ones who had access, other than medical staff or the police, but they never went. Claire's family were no different. They told her so.
"She was cursed before this all happened," her father said, "full of deceit and disgusting thought and deed. Claire is no longer our daughter, not anymore, nor has she ever been. She was wicked. Wicked from birth. Rotten to the core."
"What did she do before that was so wicked?"
"You've seen the stories in the papers I'm sure. Sickening, horrible stories. And there's much more not out there yet. Much more. Wicked, disgusting girl!"
"It didn't seem that bad to me," I said "normal teenage behaviour, part of growing up."
"Oh you think so?" her Dad said. "In that case, you will be going the same way before long, mark my words, disgusting sluts both of you. Head filled with lust and depraved fantasies. It's not right, and you will go the same way as Claire. You will be next!"
She knew it was no use pursuing this line of enquiry with the family. Her mother not even acknowledging her presence. Her father getting louder and louder with every remark about her slutty behaviour and sick mind. If only he knew how accurate his comments were Jenny thought, and she pondered that thought for a while, considering him catching her, abusing her like he was now. But she shook her head to clear her thoughts. And so she said her goodbyes, thanked them, relayed her condolences and left.
Claire's Dad didn't stop though, and she could hear him shouting at her up the street, everyone could. Men and women looking at Jenny in disgust as she walked back towards her home, his voice still booming out behind her. She hadn't even done anything wrong, well she had in her head, but no one knew that. If only they all knew she thought, and she blushed, not because of the looks she was getting from everyone, but because of show playing in her mind. It felt really good. She wanted to go home, put her music on full blast, and enjoy the thoughts running through her head now. And she kept walking.
"You will be next, you disgusting little whore. Mark my words, you repent of your sins or you will be next."
When Jenny returned home that night, she could hear smashing and banging noises, shouting over the top, hysteria, all coming from her bedroom upstairs. She ran up to see what was going on, and pushed open her door.
Within seconds, she was pressed up against the wall by her father.
"You disgusting, dirty, skanky little bitch!" he screamed at her.
"Daddy?" she said, scared witless for the first time in her life
