Hungry Like Wolves – Erotic Horror

Apocalypse2

I used to be an erotic horror writer. This story is copyright 2002.

Eternal night consumes the City of the  Lost.  A necropolis, where souls of the dead still linger, every gutter a rotting cesspool of death. And those left, the scavengers, the hunters and the hunted.  Kill or be killed.  Eat or be eaten.  That is the unspoken law.

***

She is running.

Running.

Her naked feet raw and bleeding—raw against the raped streets where phallic monuments once loomed, now sterile erections leaving holes in the skyline like tooth decay; raw on jagged asphalt that buckles, a parched apocalypse, fissures opening, hungry holes whose intestines glisten wetly from deep within the bowels of the earth, rebar ribs stripped of flesh and jutting angrily from the decaying corpse of civilization.

She is running.

Her hair loose hanging wild about her face, clinging to her naked skin in the cool damp air that penetrates her every pore, violating her o so fucking deeply.

She stops to listen.  Her breathe is harsh, coming in ragged gasps.  The sound of her heart beat throbs in her ear, an internal vibration that pulls at the liquid inside of her as she is drawn by the moon in slow, waning waves.  It is there above her,  the ever-seeing eye weeping corrosive rain that eats into the sores that plague her flesh, a bloody orb rising in the darkened sky, following, watching, a stalker in the night.

Lea stands, high upon a jagged rooftop, slightly bent, hands braced on knees, her head hung low.   A sharp ache has lodged itself up under her ribs, digging deeply, twisting inside of her like an icy blade.  Below, the necropolis swells, the dark grind of the underworld, angry machines that slowly gnaw away at the fabric of life.  Inhuman voices of chaos. The rain spills from rooftops, streaking the sides of buildings in bloody smears to the dark alleys below.

From her vantage point the city looks like a child’s toy, carelessly broken and discarded in a child’s infantile rage. Blackened concrete and twisted steel, dark cavities pitting the landscape.

Deep angry fissures vomit Hellfire, plumes of light illuminating the darkness.  The air is fetid with the smells of decay, of fossil fuels and the distinct odour of burning human flesh.

Eat or be eaten.

Below her their howls sing a distant song of longing, high and eerie, creeping, crawling up under her flesh until it steals into her mind and the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.  A ripple of anticipation quivers up her spine.  They are the roaming, nomadic tribes of the new night, predators of human flesh.  They seek out the weak, the sick. And, those who have the curse. Those like her.  They are coming…

Lea sees them now, down below their red eyes burning like hot coals in the darkness.  She tries to make out their features, but it is nearly impossible.  A low growl breaks the rich silence as piercing eyes meet her gaze, branding her deeply, and she knows it is him, it is Caleb.  His eyes hold hers for a long moment, and her fear becomes tangible, she is sure he can smell the acrid sweat of terror and that of her bleeding sex.  Sweat trickles slowly down her neck and between the valley of her breasts. Then he moves into the shadows and is gone.

For a moment she is frozen in terror.  Her limbs have become disconnected, refusing her.  Then, she finds mobility again and her bare feet grip the cool concrete.  She is climbing, down a rusted fire escape, climbing through windows of broken glass, down, down, beneath sewer grates and into the entrails of the city itself.

She is running again, her legs so heavy, still she wills them to move, to keep moving, don’t stop, don’t ever stop, for if you do, they are only one step behind you, waiting.

***

The smell of blood, ripe and earthy, awakens her.  It is her own blood: deep and rich, metallic fire. The blood which seeps from her sex and trickles down her thighs.  Her open wound of femininity, her wound that never heals.  She bleeds profusely now, a sacred fount bleeding from her scarred womb.  Her cunt is rare.  She is one of the few left who still bleed, who have the curse.  It is how they find her.  Her sex is the hunger that burns in each of them.  They mean to devour her.  Eat or be eaten.

Her eyes open to darkness.  Her blood is strong in the blackness and she sees it in her mind’s eye staining the shadows, as if strips of flesh were peeled away to reveal the sweet intoxication of a sanguine bloom.  She pictures her cunt, a bloody-devouring flower, hungry for their cocks and mouths upon her, eating her, drinking her, licking her up.  A current of pleasure sizzles inside her, throbbing deeply through the folds of her labia, her clit hard and swelling.

The darkness takes shape now, and she can see the edge of a wall, a rusty metal ladder that leads up into the night.  Somewhere the sound of water dripping a steady water-torture beat, echoing through the underground labyrinth.  Further the angry hum of machines devouring the night. She smells rotting flesh and the cesspool of humanity lingering in the dark crevasses, but still her blood is stronger, more fetid, more sickly sweet.

Her hand is numb and cold as she reaches between her legs.  Her cunt opens to her fingers, warm and succulent like a mouth.  Her fingers are icy against the soft virgin flesh that blossoms inside of her.  She brings her fingers to her lips.  The blood is pungent.  It is an organism all unto itself, alive, amidst all this death.  She sucks the blood from her fingers, slow and seductive, engulfing one digit, then the next.  The tang stings her tongue.  Her mouth feels full and she imagines that the blood breeds inside her dark mouth like mitosis, each erythrocyte dividing into daughter cells, exact replicas of the parent.  Her eyes roll back into her head as she bares the edges of her teeth, the taste of her own flesh upon her lips, so hungry, so hungry is she, hungry like wolves…

***

When they once were one.

Lea is running down the dark edge of insanity.  She is to be initiated into the night. They are naked as stone, sweat clinging to lithe bodies, hard muscles, eyes like cinders that see deep into the night.  Caleb is there too, beside her, his warm body pressed against hers in the darkness as he crushes her against a brick wall.  He smells earthy, of unwashed man-flesh.  The smell is good.  She can feel his heart beating beneath his chest.  His eyes burn her.  He brings a finger to her lips.  Shhhhhhhhh…

Then she hears them too, survivors of the plague, deceased humans, hiding in the alleyways, their funeral pyres burning a liturgy to their slow death.  The shallowness of their breaths, their confessional whispers praying to a God long dead, the low undercurrent of their blood rushing their veins. Barely audible, but, yes, she can hear them.

Delirium rages within her.

It is better this way, he whispers again.  He has explained this to her before. Better to die quickly in the thralls of passion, than to slowly waste away.

She smells them now, smells their slow decay, the poison of their blood beneath seeping cancerous flesh, their hearts ripe beating still, the foul odour of their waste.  And, she is hungry for them yes, hungry like wolves.

And, then they are running again, their haunting voices echoing over urban decay, hollow and surreal, howling in hunger, sweeping down empty streets where rivers of sewage seep from cracked pavement like open wounds.  The hunger is relentless now, deep in the pit of her stomach.  Her cunt throbs and aches, hungry too, needing to be filled, needing to be consumed.

She enters the dead-end street.  The others had begun their Dionysian feast. Blood and gore and sex blur her senses.  Her head swims, visuals of ecstasy and terror before her eyes, their screams as they are devoured alive, the deep dark scent of their meat.

A young man lies prone upon the ground, his pale belly exposed and bloated.  A she-bitch squats over him and urinates in his face.  She then plants her cunt upon his mouth, holding him down, her knees pinning his outstretched arms.  She rubs her cunt upon his mouth, his nose, her hips rotating, her jaundiced eyes gleaming like mirrors of reflected light.  The bitch licks down his torso, nipping and drawing blood from his flesh.  She finds the young man’s cock, half hard and envelopes it with her mouth.  Her head bobs slowly up and down, sucking the cock.  Her nails bite into his thighs leaving deep red marks.

Lea stands frozen, watching in horror.  She can hear the young man’s muffled moans and the slurped growls of the she-bitch.  The bitch’s back is lean, glistening with sweat, her spine jutting out so every vertebrae is clearly defined.  Her hips squirm and grind upon the young man’s face.

A hot desire sizzles through Lea’s body.  Her sex is swollen and aches, wet and weeping.  The drum of blood rushes through her temples and her heart feels as if it has expanded in her chest.

The she-bitch sits up her face smeared with blood, her teeth glistening.  The young man’s bloody cock is large and thick and stands erect, hovering an inch from his belly.  A thrill rushes through Lea as she gazes at it.  His coppery scent fills her senses, and she is so hungry for him, wants to be impaled by his cock, to taste his come and blood upon her lips.

Caleb takes Lea by the arm and leads her closer.  He positions her upon the young man, so she is poised over him and guides her virgin cunt to his cock.  Lea’s body goes tense as she is pricked, her maidenhead stretching until it tears, a bloody ache filling her up inside as keen slices of agony stab through her.  His cock is so impossibly huge.

The bitch smiles at her baring jagged teeth.  With one long nail she pierces the young man’s flesh, just above his genitals and carves a lovely wet gash from cock to throat.  His entrails bubble and froth, steaming viscera spilling out of him as the bitch spreads his flesh so his ribcage is bared.  Beneath the cage of bone Lea can see his heart, a red swollen muscle contracting and expanding to the rhythm of the night. Her own heart beats to the same rhythm and she feels that they are one, both virgins of the flesh, both the initiated in this bloody orgy of orgasmic pleasure.

Caleb presses his chest against her back, his hands slipping around to cup her breasts.  Now Lea’s hips move to the rhythm of the night, the young man’s cock impaling her deep then leaving her empty, only to fill her more completely, more profoundly than before.  A song has begun deep within her being, a high-pitched wailing song that flows up her throat, streaming from her lips to kiss the night air.  This song has no words, only an eerie cadence that shivers through her and unites with the impassioned cries of the others, echoing off the decaying walls of the alley.

The she-bitch has buried herself in the cavity and ravages the young man’s internal organs.  She emerges, her pale flesh stained with blood, her dark hair clinging wetly to her breasts, her long tongue snaking out to lap the blood from the palms of her hands.  The young man’s ribs have been pulled apart and his heart still beating glistens wetly.

A deep agony burns in Lea, this hunger that begins between her thighs, travels up through her raw sex, up through her intestines and her stomach, through the rhythm of her heart and joins the song that spills from her lips.  Her hands crawl up under the ribcage and she holds his heart in her palm.  The rhythm feeds through her, igniting her.

She feels teeth nipping at her shoulder.  Caleb pushes her roughly forward, her naked ass exposed, spread wide and revealing the bloody fruit of her other sex.  And then she is impaled, Caleb’s hard, angry cock raping her bowels, forcing her open and filling her virgin hole.  Her face is planted deep within the cavity of the young man, and she feels his heart pulsing against her lips.  For a moment she cannot breath, smothered by his hot blood, she begins to panic frantically.  But, Caleb is strong and has her pinned.  His growls are deep, his teeth dig deeper into her shoulder, glancing off bone and sending a shock of pain through her as his massive cock plunges deep inside.  She is ripped apart, like a wonderful wound, opening wide, a slow agony filling her from the inside out.

Then her teeth bite into the hard muscle of the young man’s heart and blood explodes down her throat.  She chokes, then burying her head deeper sucks and chews at the flesh, it is so warm and dark and good.  The texture of his heart-flesh is elastic and smooth, the taste of his blood too sweet she nearly gags.  She becomes mad in this act of devouring, her hunger ravenous, her senses blinded to only the taste of him, the feel of her vulpine teeth ripping at his muscle, his blood filling her throat, filling her nostrils, her fingernails tearing him apart.

And, as she feeds she is vaguely aware she is being fed upon, by cocks and cunts and hungry mouths nipping her flesh, filling the deep dark recesses of her body.  Caleb’s cock ramming into her, the cold stiff cock that impales her cunt, the eager mouths and tongues and teeth that lick and nibble and feed upon her ecstasy.

The sound of howls fill her, echoing from the recesses of her own being, filling her womb, her anus, her throat, passing her lips.  The wolf-song is caught up by many voices, echoing through the dark, damp alley, filling the darkness.

And then darkness has filled her and she falls down into a nightmare of sleep.

Between her thighs the curse has begun to bleed.

***

Her own blood intoxicates her.  She is so hungry.  She is gaunt and her ribs jut from her torso.  Her knees are scabbed but do not heal.

Better to die quickly in the thralls of passion, than to slowly waste away.

She tries to push the thought from her, though she is particularly aware of the ironic truth.

Her eyes have fully adjusted now to the sewers dank darkness.  Acrid vapours rise and watery reflections dance upon the cement walls.  Streaks of rust seep from bloody gashes in the concrete, fetid water slowly creeping. She hears the echo of water dripping far away, the low grind of gears, the thrust of pistons.  Inhuman.

She thinks it is better to die than to stay here and wait for death to find her.

A familiar scent fills the air.   Of earth and sweat and ripe flesh.

The smell is good.

Her spine prickles with alarm.

It is him.

It is Caleb.

It is death.

“How did you find me?” Her voice is hollow.

A deep whiskey sound echoes from the shadows.  “You cannot hide your scent.  Not even down here, amidst the shit and piss of humanity.”

Then he is beside her and she can feel the warmth of his flesh, the soft fur that covers his chest and weaves a thin trail down to his genitals.  His nipples are hard against her back.  She presses back against him, hoping to steal his warmth.  His strong scent makes her dizzy: the gamy smell of his unwashed skin, the smell of feces and blood.  His cock moves like a leviathan, slowly, ponderously coming to life against her backbone.

“How long…” her voice trails off into the darkness, sounding small, frail, uncertain.

For a moment he does not answer but simply buries his nose into her hair and smells her deeply

“We have this moment.” is all he will say, but somewhere within the depths of his voice there is a deep sorrow, a regret perhaps, tinged with the keen yet unmistakable sound of dead certainty.  His hot breath rushes against her skin.

Her heart is pounding so hard inside her it scares her, as if she might just die of fear alone.  And then he is kissing her neck, open-mouthed, soft, wet, tongue-lingering kisses that sizzle hot into her flesh and make her quiver inside. In that moment she almost hopes that he will give her the pleasure of being devoured by his lips, his teeth, his hungry mouth, ripping flesh from bone and drinking her in, while her heart rages and her mind screams for release.  But, he is gentle, and she knows that it is because this is the last time.

For her.

His palms are on her shoulders and he forces her to turn, to face him, to look into those amber eyes tarnished by fire.  She remembers a time when those eyes held such love for her, trusted her.  Now all she can see is that burning desire.  It is madness.  He is rabid like a wild dog.  He is hungry like wolves.

Yet, she cannot help but melt when he looks at her, as if he were exposing her with his gaze.

And, he is.

He smiles.  His mouth is toothy, teeth seeming much sharper, more fierce than she remembered.  His hands claw at the back of her skull, grasping her by the hair and yanking her head back to expose her neck.  Slowly, his hot tongue sweeps over her flesh, lingering over the muscles in her throat, the pulse of her juggler, the outline of her jaw.  The edge of his teeth tease her, promising pain and brutality, yet delivering only soft nicks and scratches.  She arches towards him, trying desperately to expose herself to his hunger.

Somewhere inside her the panic has died away.  She feels a calmness, a strange quiet in knowing that death is near.  She is going to die.  There is nowhere to run now.  Accepting this somehow makes it easier.  Yet, it shocks her too.  She never thought it would be so easy, this sweet surrender.

He presses her down against the cold damp concrete.  A scattering of human bones crack beneath her weight, sharp edges digging into her flesh, grinding into dust.  His weight is full upon her, smothering almost.  She opens to his kiss, his eager tongue entering her lips and tasting her gums.  He squeezes her breasts hard, and she winces, yet arches towards him.  She wants the pain.  She wants to wallow in it, to obliterate from her mind the uncertainty, to cleanse her mind of the last dying traces of sanity.

His mouth is hungry upon her flesh, teeth impaling her and ripping away morsels of her meat.  Her torso is raw with small wounds, but these are only teasing tastes.  Then he is between her legs, his strong hands spreading her thighs.  She grinds her cunt against his mouth, his tongue entering her, lapping so deeply.  He croons softly, drinking her in.

The ecstasy has begun to possess her and shudders through her in streams of agony and pleasure.  Her mind is swimming and she is drowning in her desire, as he is drowning in his lust.  The stigmata between her thighs flows in rivers now, and she feels virginal, divine, as if she were christening him with her holy fire, burning him with her sacred light.

Blood is the Life.

He pauses and raises his head, his face smeared with her.  Bloody angel wings soar upon his cheeks.  His eyes gleam like fiery orbs, like the ever-seeing star that weeps bloody tears.  A moment passes and he seems to be whispering to her, but she is unsure.  Far away is the gentle sound of water dripping, the underbelly roar, and something else.

She hears them now.  All of them, coming for her, for her flesh.  To drink from her sacred font.  Ravenous.  Hungry like wolves.

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  1. 03/08/2013

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