The Last Resort
Horror by
Victoria Valentine
Halloween 2016
You will have to visit!! It will welcome you with open arms ;-)
CHAPTER 4
The cave was dank but adequate and all it had ever known.
After all, it had brought maidens here. To ravish. To mate. It kept every single
skeletal bone in a heap in the corner where sometimes it would sit and
sniff, longing for the scent of them. The fragrance of fear. Defeat in their
eyes as it took them. Savaged them. Consumed them and the fearless – or foolish − who had come to rescue
the maidens. The bones of mates were trophies; the bones of heroes were
stripped of flesh, gnawed and ground to fertilizer.
The floor was covered with
mushrooms and moss where the fruit of the dead thrived. Spirits remained. At
night they would cry out in anguish. Moan to be free, and this was music to its
ears. It pleasured at their suffering, damnation, unrest of tortured souls.
These delights were locked
inside its head, its mind, its soullessness; its lair would be their forever
place. Would they one day escape? Not if it had anything to do with
it.
It didn't speak a particular language yet it understood all.
It possessed telepathy and like the demon that had created it, it knew the
inside of a human head. An animal head. Had stalked both. Had tasted both. It
sensed things, knew its surroundings. This made it a formidable and
invincible opponent.
Copyright 2016 Victoria Valentine
Copyright 2016 Victoria Valentine