The Ghosts of Soldier's Cross

'There are no such things as ghosts,' you say with the certainty of one who knows.

'You sure about that, Miss?' He raises an eyebrow.

'Oh, come on. Surely you don't...'. Your words end in a giggle. 'You're winding me up, right?'

'Ask the folks round here,' he says lifting his shot glass and taking a sip. 'None of 'em go in there.'

He really is handsome. The kind of guy you've always wanted to meet. Probably of mixed parentage - dark skinned. Is that a little unusual down here in The South? He smiles readily and his dark eyes are warm. Lean face. Dark stubble. He wears a long blue woollen coat in a military style that hangs open baring the chocolate brown of his lean chest.

And that southern accent! It's a cliche but his voice is warm like molasses.

He smells vaguely of woodsmoke, sweat and tobacco.

He's not the one you are travelling to meet but this is your adventure.

'Prove it,' you say lifting your chin.

'You want to go in there with me?' Those eyes widen, white against the darkness of his skin.

'Sure, why not?' You keep your voice level, make yourself hold his gaze.

'Ok.' He downs the last drop his bourbon and stands, his chair scraping on the wooden floor.

You follow suit, the amber liquid burning as it goes down then, bending to pick up your rucksack, you feel its effects.

*

Outside it is dusk. The air is thick, heavy with perfumes of flowers you do not recognise; it tastes of dust from the road. Cicadas thrum. The sky is a hazy red swirl of cloud. You follow a chain-link fence that warns 'Danger: Keep Out' on every second panel but the gate is ajar, though the rusted chain is still padlocked around the metal frame. He slips through and you follow, reaching to take the hand he offers as you step across the threshold.

The jolt of his touch seems to spark your senses as if waking them from a stupor and, suddenly, everything is in bright relief: sights and sounds amplified, colours sharper - the leaves and the cascading tendrils of blossom, the evening sky as if it is truly aflame, a sharp tang of burning fills your nostrils - acrid smoke; you hear cries and then... singing - religious chanting, there is a scream.

You startle and draw back but he does not release you and she look down at his hand, your eyes wide.

'Don't worry, Miss. I got you.'

You want to go. You shouldn't be here. Girls don't go into abandoned buildings with complete strangers. Your eyes lift to meet his and you find again that warm, easy smile. God, he's handsome - more than you realised. His very touch seems to warm you. You know he will protect you.

You squeeze his hand and give him a smile and allow him to lead you between the trees over the soft, sandy earth and the leaf litter.

*

You emerge into a clearing - the remains of a fire, a metal cooking pot hangs from a small tripod; a blanket is spread; a pack sits against the trunk of a small tree, there is a rifle beside it.

'You live here?'

'A man has to live somewhere.'

'But here?' Your mind is suddenly open to this other world, a world where life is not regimented, not constrained by schedules and social niceties, a world of freedom and you feel an excitement in your chest to have found it.

He tastes of the bourbon when you kiss him, his mouth is warm and his body firm against yours, his arms strong around you and if the jolt from his touch opened your senses to this world this contact draws you inside it, makes you part of it. Your hands slide inside the warmth of his coat. The smell of woodsmoke is stronger and... cordite - from the rifle you guess.

Does he hunt to survive?

His muscles are firm under your touch, his chest warm against your breasts, his lips as eager for yours as yours are for his. His stubble scratches your skin and you giggle delightedly moving to cup his face in your hands, pushing your tongue into his mouth. Then, as the initial eagerness for contact passes and stronger needs grip you, you pull back catching the hem of your shirt dress and pulling it over your head in a reckless gesture that makes you stagger for a moment on the soft ground.

He catches you, lowering you to the ground, drawing you onto the blanket beside the dead fire and you guide his hand to your breast, your body shrieking for more as he caresses your nipple though the thin cotton of your bra. You hook your leg over his and slide your hands inside his coat struggling to undress him to have more bare skin to caress, to feel the way his touch makes you feel. As he shrugs out of his coat, you undo your bra sitting and presenting your breasts to him when he turns back and gasp as he takes one in his mouth, his tongue flicking against your nipple and you enfold him in your arms to keep him there - crying out as he grazes his teeth against your skin.

You have him now. At least you think you do and you push him down. Kneeling above him to undress him further, pulling off his boots and then his blue woollen pants. He is naked beneath, his cock stiff - stiff for you. It is larger than you expected. You have heard that black guys are larger - this is your first time with one. You kick off your shoes pull off your knickers then fall on him, kissing him enjoying the way he enfolds you in his arms. Your lips move to his neck and then down onto his chest.

'Slow down,' he urges. 'We have all night.'

You look up in surprise but see he is smiling.

'Enjoy it,' he urges in that voice that drips with molasses.

You bend and kiss his chest realising you are blushing at... what? His rebuke?

You have been with boys. It is usually them that are the eager ones and you... willing or perhaps ambivalent. There has never been a shortage of boys eager for your affection - eager to be with you, to be seen with you. You are pretty with blue eyes and a round face, soft slightly freckled cheeks, full lips, glossy chestnut brown hair that comes to your shoulders, full breasts and feminine curves that you once thought marked you as fat but now understand the power they wield.

His hands slip into your hair and you no longer care if you have appeared over-eager as you rest your cheek on his chest, your hand sliding down to the erect cock that shows he is just as eager for you. He moans as you squeeze it and then slip your fingers around his balls, closing your hand gently.

If he wants to go slowly, you will make him beg.

There is, you notice, a small puckered scar on his chest over his heart and you lift your head to look at it. Somehow the fact he has this makes him even more desirable. You bend and kiss it then lift your mouth to his, your thigh rubbing his cock teasingly.

God, you want him inside you. You've never wanted anyone inside you like you want him now.

You grab his wrists and force them down, straddling him, aware suddenly that his eyes are on your face, not your breasts where you expected them.

'What?' You shake your head to clear the hair from your eyes. 'Never been dominated like this.' You lean down to force him to look at your breasts.

'Not like this.' There is a serious note in his voice.

'Can't handle it, eh?'

'Oh, I can handle you, miss.' He rolls you over, easily unseating you and you find yourself under him pinned down as you had him a moment ago.

'Take me!' The words come out as a whisper, a plea.

You vaguely recall you he was supposed to be the one to beg.

He slides back across your belly, lowering his hips, his hands still pinning you with a strength you know you cannot match yet you struggle anyway. Then still when the tip of his cock slides against your sex.

Just that touch has brought you to the edge of orgasm.

You look up at him, paused over you, eyes on yours.

'Please...,' you whisper.

The tip of his cock slides inside you and you bite your lip to stop yourself climaxing.

Another inch and you are panting, fighting the overwhelming urge to cum because you don't want this pleasure to stop.

Another inch and you can't stop it.

'I'm sorry,' you whisper then give yourself up to a pleasure that batters its way through you making your entire body thrum. You have never cum like this, never felt such joy - it is as if every nerve in your skin is vibrating with pleasure, every organ, every muscle, every sinew, every bone - as if all the world around you, all those heightened sensations are contriving to fill you, to overload your senses.

*

Afterwards, you lie with him inside you - full and sated, lying on your sides, your bodies pressed together.

'I thought we were hunting ghosts,' you say, then kiss him gently.

'Have you not felt them?' He presses his forehead to yours.

'I felt something,' you say, a smile curling your lips.

He reaches down and pulls his coat over your bodies as they cool.

'What is this place anyway?'

'Old sanatorium.' He props himself up on one elbow. 'And, before that, a convent. Carpathian nuns. The locals thought them devil worshippers - locked 'em inside and burned 'em to death.'

You recall the flash of sensation as you entered - the tang of burning, the flash of flames, the scream.

'What happened to the sanatorium?'

'Roof fell in. Cheap labour... poor quality materials. Dozens of the inmates and staff were killed.'

'And that's why it's haunted?' You lift your head onto your hand to face him.

'You said it yourself - 'There are no such things as ghosts'.' He kisses you and you roll back drawing him on top of you.

*

You wake in bright moonlight, the brightest of the stars above like diamonds. The clearing around you is dappled with silver grey light where it pierces the canopy above you. After the cacophony of sensations earlier, the world feels muted and yet there is still the tang of burning in the air and then in the silence you hear chanting.

He is gone.

The revelation is jarring and you sit up casting around for him but everything is still present - the remains of the fire, the cooking pot, the blanket beneath you, his coat draped over you, your discarded clothing and rucksack, his pack.

Though the rifle is gone.

Has he gone hunting? It must be the middle of the night.

You reach for your phone only to find the battery is dead. Odd that - you were sure it was at least fifty percent.

There is another scent - medicinal, antiseptic.

There is another sound too - moaning or wailing - a sound of misery.

There are no such things as ghosts.

You throw of his coat noticing for the first time that there is a hole in the lapel. Then you stand and pull on your dress before sliding your feet into your boots.

*

Beyond the clearing is a building - two stories of crumbling brickwork, smashed windows - windows with bars. The door - metal, standing ajar bears the same 'Danger: Keep Out' sign that you saw on the fence.

The moaning and wailing is coming from beyond.

You can just squeeze through the gap, your bottom rubbing on the door jamb and your breasts scraping in the cold edge of the metal door.

The smell hits you again - antiseptic, water on wood floors, unwashed bodies... fear.

You should go back. Come back with him... with...

You're a slut you tell yourself! You didn't even get his name.

Well, that's going to be embarrassing later.

The moans are louder and someone, a girl, is a whimpering.

The corridor ahead is dark and you wish you had a torch or your phone. You step forward, the sole of your boot crunching on debris that has blown in through the open door. The whimpering stops abruptly but the background moans continue.

Another step.

Another.

Round a corner.

There is a patch of moonlight on the concrete floor ahead, the shadows from a barred window.

The whimpering starts again.

You should go back.

But what is someone is in trouble.

You take another step and see that the light is coming through the bars of a door. Peering through you see something that looks like a cell with a barred window beyond.

There is something below the window... two points of light... eyes, a face... part of a face.

'Mnnnnggn.'

You freeze as the eyes look at you.

There are no such things as ghosts.

Pleading eyes.

You step back.

'Mmmnhhhggh.' Louder this time. Pleading.

The door has a bolt and you slide it back. Your hands tremble. The sound echoes down the corridor then, as you push it, the door screeches on its hinges setting your heart racing and sending fear coursing through your body. You swallow and step into the room.

In the dim light you can see the eyes belong to a girl. She is sitting against the wall, she wears something white and sits with her hands wrapped around her body. Her legs are bare but she is wearing ankle-warmers.

That's weird.

You wonder why you cannot see all her face and reason that she is cold and wearing a scarf.

Her eyes widen as you step towards her and she draws back pulling up her legs.

There is the noise of metal clicking on metal. The rustling of chain.

The image resolves.

Her arms are wrapped around her because she is strapped into a straight jacket, you cannot see the lower half of her face because there is some sort of muzzle strapped across, it and below this is a collar - a collar that is chained to wall; her ankles are cuffed together but a short chain.

The spike of fear makes you shiver.

Your mind whirls seeking an explanation.

She's been kidnapped and is being kept her.

Kept here by the man you have just had sex with.

Is he planning to do this to you? To keep you chained up like a dog to use when wants.

Your instinct is to run.

But you can't leave the girl!

Of course you can. It is better to run now. What if he comes for you, finds you here? You should run and call 911 from the bar opposite.

You turn to go and the girl whimpers gain.

You cannot leave her.

Her eyes are green you realise, and quite striking. The skin of her face is grubby and her blonde hair, pulled back into a bun is unwashed and coarse, stray locks hang in straggly tails.

'Don't be frightened,' you say because you feel you have to say something and you hope that it will reassure both of you.

She lifts her chin as you approach and she see that the collar she wears which chains her to the wall has a pin locking it closed. You reach to remove it and feel that same jolt of sensation you felt before when... he touched you. You feel the chill of the stone walls, the darkness of the cell, loneliness, feel the rub of the collar on your neck, the chafe of the cuffs around your ankles.

Fear again.

The pin comes away as you withdraw your hand and the collar opens. The cuffs on her ankles have similar clasps and from the grime and abrasion of her skin you can see she has been wearing them for some time.

'Turn around,' you say and she does allowing you to unbuckle the heavy leather muzzles that has been used to gag her. She chokes as you ease it out of her mouth and the see that it is fitted with a thick leather plug that must have pushed right to the back of her mouth. It is reminiscent of sex toys you have seen and you wonder briefly if this is not as you first thought but some sort of kinky sex game that you have stumbled upon.

'Shang you,' she says, her tongue slurring the word as if she is drunk. 'Can I have shome wader.' She turns and those green eyes look up at you pleadingly.

'I don't have any.' You ache for her.

'In the bowl.' She nods with her head and you look down. There are two a metal bowls on the floor of the cell - one containing food remains and the other with a thin layer of water in the bottom. 'I'm sho thirshty.' She licks cracked lips with a dry tongue. 'The gag mages me dribble and I can'd drink.'

She kneels up and clambers to the floor on her knees, bending over the water bowl and lapping at it with her tongue.

'What... wait...' You crouch down and pull her head up. 'You can't do that.'

She shrugs her bound arms. 'I have to.'

'Here.' You crouch and lift the bowl to her lips.

She drinks eagerly, some of the water spilling around her mouth and running down her chin.

'Thank you.' She licks her lips, her voice stronger. 'Are you new? One of the nurses?'

'No, I'm...' You stop. 'Why are you here.'

'I've been bad. I'm an abomination, that's what they say...'

'But... No, wait, we need to get you out of here.' You pull at the straps of her straight jacket, freeing her arms and then undoing the straps at the back and between her legs then help her out of it.

'Thank you.'

'Do you have any clothes.'

'No, they took them away when they brought me here. When I'm not restrained they keep me naked. It's to remind me I'm a girl.'

You frown trying to process what she is saying.

'Come on, we need to get out of here.' You take her hand and experience that jolt of sensation again.

Desire... lust... a female face, fingers touching... exploring... tracing across breasts, circling nipples; lips kissing, tongues, the salt taste of... another girl.

It is so overwhelming that you try pull your hand away but she interlaces her fingers with yours, holding you tight.

'This way.' You draw her towards the door of the cell, stopping to glance up and down the corridor before stepping out freezing as the debris beneath your boots crunches loudly.

You turn left towards the way in but she draws you right.

'Not that way, they will catch us.'

They! Who!

You want to argue, tell her it is only ten or so yards to the angle of the corridor and then another ten to the door by which you came in.

But perhaps he is that way. Perhaps he has an accomplice. You have read of sadistic couples trapping young woman and torturing them.

You nod and allow her to lead you deeper into the building.

Footsteps. You hear footsteps. Low voices.

The girl stops and you feel her fear.

'In here.' There is an open door to the right.

'No!' She draws back, those green eyes wide and the fear heightens... fear and pain... and violation.

The footsteps are coming nearer. There is nowhere else to go. You duck into the doorway dragging her behind you although she tries to resist. Then you crouch side by side, backs against the wall aware of how loud your breathing is. You still hold her hand and now you are pressed shoulder to shoulder, your arms both bare. Somehow this allows you to feel her more. That jolt of touch. You glance at her and look away quickly when you see that she is observing you - those green eyes, those beautiful green eyes... yearning for... you.

You look away quickly and see that there are two wooden frames in front of you like tables with only two legs, canted. They are dusty but seem intact other than the missing legs as if they were made like that. Then you notice the have straps dangling from them - thick leather straps, curled on the dusty floor, the leather cracked, the buckles tarnished.

'We should go,' you whisper, starting to rise.

'No, not yet.' The girl pulls you down with surprising strength. 'Stay with me.' Her hand squeezes yours and those sensations come back. The yearning, the desire...

She is naked beside you.

'Of course,' you say, 'I won't leave you.'

You look into her eyes and can bear it no longer. Your lips meet and lust flows through you. You have been with a girl before but not like this. Before, you were just trying it to see what it was like. You want this. You want her tongue in your mouth, to push yours into hers and when her hand slides inside your shift dress seeking your breast to do not resist. You want that too. You want her to touch you just as you want to touch her, to feel her hands on your breasts, to have her play with your nipple which swells at her touch, to take it in her teeth though the thin fabric of your dress as her hands slide between your legs. Before your mind can process this... this lust... this carnal desire, you are on your back with her on top of you, your bodies a tangle of limbs, your dress lifted and your thighs entwined. Fingers and mouths seeking, probing, caressing.

Her hand slides between your thighs even as your fingers run over her sex finding it wet. She moans, her lips pressed to your neck and you stifle a cry knowing this is crazy, that you will be discovered any moment.

But you can't stop yourself. Desire floods you and your body screams for her touch, throbs with a supernatural lust.

You climax a moment later, your body shaking with the force of it, your heart thumping in your chest - vaguely aware that she too had just cum.

You hold her face between her hands and kiss her gently

'There they are,' a voice above you says.

*

Hands reach down dragging the girl off you. Strong hands.

Women! Women in long coarse dresses, pinafores; their hair under caps. White faces, twisted faces, twisted with loathing, with disgust.

Those hands grab you too and you feel those emotions, know they are directed at you. Voices are screaming and you realise on of them is yours. You and the girl are both fighting, screaming but there are four of them, four large strong women and they hold you firmly. A fifth one appears.

'Caught them right at it, the filthy creatures,' a voice says.

The fifth woman is older and carries the air of authority; her dress a little different and she doesn't not wear a pinafore.

'Punish them.'

'Yes, madam.'

You and the green-eyed girl are dragged towards the canted tables and pulled over them, the wooden edge hard against your belly, your arms are dragged down and held in place while the heavy straps are buckled around your wrists. You fight and kick but they are strong and your ankles are soon strapped down too, your legs spread. Your boots are pulled off and the dress is ripped from your body. You scream, fighting the restraints but they do not yield.

You know this is a nightmare. This cannot be happening to you and you fight to wake up.

Then your world erupts in pain. I searing, burning pain across your buttocks. Then another across your thighs. You scream, twisting and looking round, yelling at the women to stop but the pain comes again. They are whipping you with some sort of leather strap. Beside you the girl is being beaten too although she does not cry out, just lies resignedly, her chin resting on the wood.

'Please,' you scream, 'please stop.'

'Silence her.'

Something is pressed against your lips and in your fury and fear you try to bite the hand holding it but it evades you and the thing is pushed into your mouth, something sour, leathery. You realise it is a muzzle like the one the girl was wearing when you found her. The strap falls again and you scream against the gag.

*

By the time the whipping is over, you are sobbing, whimpering, but not fighting; your bottom and the back of your thighs on fire.

'That'll teach them.'

'They never learn. They're filthy. Abominations. They deserve to be treated like this. Kept leashed and muzzled like animals.'

'Show them the error of their ways.' It is the woman in charge who speaks.

'Yes, madam.' The voice is sneering. 'Maybe they'll even enjoy it.'

You glance around fearful of what you might be made to endure now and see one of the women hitch up her skirts. Another is holding some sort of wooden handle attached to leather straps. You try to struggle but you do not have the strength or the will to fight.

How easily you have been broken.

You glance at your fellow prisoner and find her gazing at you with those green eyes.

They are so beautiful.

Something touches your sex and you buck violently, shouting angrily into your gag but strong hands hold your hips.

'Nnngg.'

Yet even as you scream with indignation you feel them. Feel the pleasure... the sadistic pleasure.

Something pushes against your sex more insistently.

Pleasure... sadistic pleasure... They enjoyed whipping you. They like to see you strapped down like this; a young girl of what, perhaps twenty. Her body firm, pliant. Laid out before you. It was beautiful when she screamed. You loved it. And now you're going to violate her. Show her the error of her ways. Filthy sapphic bitch. These abominations have no right to be called human. You will show her.

It enters your sex. It is hard, phallic.

Glancing to the side, you see that another woman is holding the girl beside you in the same way. You can read those thoughts on her face too as she pushes her hips forward, There is a wooden phallus strapped to her hips, her skirts lifted above it. She pushes it into the green-eyed girl violating her just as you have just been violated.

But what is worse is what you feel.

You know the woman's thoughts from her touch. And your body is responding to them as if the thoughts and feelings, the desires were your own. Responding like it did with the man... the soldier, and with the girl beside you. As the phallus is driven in, your body responds to it.

'Nnngh.' You scream into your gag, fighting... fighting the urge.... No, you will not let it... cannot let it.

God, no!

You are trapped down and gagged and being raped and... you know you are bout to climax.

No!

You cum as violently, as urgently as those last two times, your face burning with the shame of it just as your body burns with the heat in your sex and the hot lust that filling you.

*

'That'll teach them.'

Your body is wrung out, numb as you are lifted from the frame and your arms guided into the sleeves of a straight jacket. You feel you should resist but your limbs seem barely to respond and the women hold you up as they strap tighten the leather buckles pulling the rough canvas tight against your bare skin then using the roller buckle to draw your arms in, hugging your body.

You think it might over but when one of the woman crouches to grab the leather strap that goes between your legs, something is pushed into your sex and you know it is one of the wooden phalluses that has just violated you. You want to hate it but even as the woman's fingers brush your sex, you feel her excitement, her pleasure at inflicting this humiliation on you.

And it makes you wet.

'Nnngg.' You shake your head weakly but can do nothing as leather cuffs are pinned shut around your ankles and a rope looped around your neck to be used as a leash.

The same has happened to the green-eyed girl and you watch numbly as she is muzzled.

Then you are lead out into the corridor, hobbling behind the women who lead you, the chains between your ankle cuffs clicking as you walk.

*

In the cell, you collapse to your knees not caring as the rope is removed from your neck and replaced by a collar that is pinned in place. The green-eyed girl kneels opposite you and is similarly collared.

'Enjoy your night,' one of the women chides as you are left alone.

You kneel for a long time staring ahead, staring at the green eyes. Your mind as numb as your body, aware of the object inside you, of the heavy leather strap between your legs that holds it in place, of the collar around your throat.

Will he come for you? The soldier. Will he rescue you? Does he know about all this?

There are no such things as ghosts.

But...?

The green eyes do not leave you even as the girl lies down, tipping, half sitting then rolling onto her side and you follow, lying a few feet from her but unable to reach her.

And you know you want to.

*

You pass a restless night, a mix of abject terror at your captivity - at being kept bound and gagged, chained by the neck - and the effect of the thing that is inside you. You know you should hate it for violating you, hate those that placed it there. And yet its presence stirs something inside you just as the sight of the green eyed girl sleeping peacefully a few feet away from you apparently oblivious or acclimatised to being kept like this.

If you had not attempted to rescue her, you may not be here and yet, if you had not attempted to rescue her, 'it' would not have happened - that sexual encounter, her hands on your body, her tongue, her lips, her teeth nipping at your breasts, tugging on your nipples, her fingers between your legs.

That orgasm.

If you hadn't come in here with the stranger, the soldier...

The soldier - will he come to rescue you or is he in league with the women? Did he simply use you and pass you on to her? Is he looking for you? Will he go to the police to say you are missing?

Surely after... after that sex!

You have never climaxed like that.

You even climaxed when the women violated you.

You roll to sit up, wincing at the pain on your bottom where you were beaten. The chain to your collar rustles and your ankle chain clicks on the floor and the thing inside you moves. The leather strap tight between your legs rubs - no, caresses. You struggle again, trying to free your arms and the thing inside you moves again the strap too.

You can't stop yourself and it is a distraction to the terror that claws at you. You rock back and forwards making the thing move, wriggling your legs to make the strap rub you and moaning into your gag as the heat builds in your sex.

There is clearly something about this place. All sensations heightened. Desires increased.

But you cannot quite get there and mewl into your gag in frustration.

You try again some time later but remain frustrated then lie looking at the girl until you drift into a fitful sleep.

*

You are woken by the clang of the door opening. The women are back. One carries a bowl and another a pitcher of water and you realise how thirsty you are. You are tired and your body aches. You have a headache which may be from the bourbon and your bladder is full. Your gag is removed and the bowl placed in front of you. You couch over it as you saw the girl do and lap at it thirstily. One of the women pulls on the crotch strap of your straight jacket and you feel those same sensations as the night before - loathing, cruelty. She removes the wooden thing from inside you and you know she can tell what you have been doing - feel her... jealousy.

Hands haul you up and the women regard you expectantly.

One of them gestures to the corner of the cell - a bucket.

You crawl to it and squat over it to relieve yourself, blushing furiously when you see the green eyed girl watching you intently.

You crawl back.

'Please,' you say, 'let us go.'

The women laugh.

'Speak again and you'll wear the muzzle all day.'

Defeated, you bow your head as tears prick at your eyes.

*

Your collars are removed and the two of you are lead by rope leashes along the corridors and then up stairs. You pass other cells like the one in which you found the girl and were kept overnight - some are occupied. All by women. Some wear straight jackets like yours and are chained to the wall by their collars, some are chained and naked. One crouches in a small cage such as might be used to transport a dog.

There are more women in the large room to which you are taken - some sort of dining room. Women in soiled white shifts sit at wooden tables on benches eating a grey sludge which might be porridge with wooden spoons. Others are strapped to chairs and being fed by more of the women in long dresses, pinafores and caps who you take to be 'nurses'.

You are lead to a dais at one end of the room and metal bowls are laid out for you on the floor.

'Eat, filth!' One of the women says.

You stand and glare at her trying not to tremble.

'Or starve. See if I care.'

The green eyed girl drops to her knees and after a moment, you admit defeat and, copying her, crouch over the bowl and try to eat without smearing the oatmeal over your face. It does not taste pleasant but you are hungry. However, even before you are finished you are dragged to your feet and bundled towards a steel pole which you realise is topped by another phallus like the one that was pushed inside you overnight and the ones the women wore when they violated you.

You try to struggle but strong hands hold you. You scream and are slapped then muzzled. And then you are lifted over the pole and your thighs held apart.

A moment later it is pushed inside you and you realise with horror that you are trapped.

One of the women takes the open cloche strap of your straight jacket and buckles it to the pole. You wonder why this is necessary - you are unable to climb off the pole without the use of your hands. However, sharp blow to your sore bottom with one of the leather strops makes your jerk and the phallus inside you lurches deeper.

'Nnnggh.'

'Better get used to it, cunt!'

You shake your head as fresh tears prick at your eyes.

'Bllsh,' you plead.

'Change your filthy habits then. Learn to ride cock like a good girl.'

You glare into her eyes through a film of tears but there is no pity.

'Don't just stand there. Ride it.'

Tears overflow onto your cheeks.

The woman grabs the back of your straight jacket and pulls you back, the phallus slides in deeper; then she pushes you forward and the phallus slides out a little.

'I want to see you cum, cunt!'

You shake your head, pleading into your gag but she forces you back and forward again.

'Now you do it.' She brings the strop down on your buttocks.

You begin to rock back and forwards.

*

It is afternoon when you are released from the pole, your sex raw and your humiliation complete. The frustration of the night is behind you. You have climaxed repeatedly, in front of the other 'inmates' and the nurses who have taunted you with lewd comments and liberal use of the strop when you have stopped 'enjoying yourself'. It is odd that, when they touch you, it actually seems to excite you as if their obvious sexual enjoyment of your suffering is transmitted to you.

You have still had to work for the orgasms but when they come, they are intense and leave you gasping. The green eyed girl has cum too, often looking at you as her body shudders to orgasm with the same force as yours.

Nonetheless, you are relived to be released but are anxious when the green eyed girl is left behind.

Up another flight of stairs, you are lead into what appears to be a an old fashioned doctor's office with a bed and gynaecological couch.

'Nggh.' You shake your head but what is about to happen is inevitable.

Your straight jacket is unbuckled and removed and you are laid on the couch, your arms lifted above your head and locked into cuffs. Then, your ankle chains are removed and your legs lifted into the stirrups before being cuffed into place.

You lie back looking at the crumbled ceiling, naked and completely vulnerable.

*

'This is her, Doctor.'

An elderly man in a frock coat enters the room shepherded by the woman who was in charge of your punishment the night before.

'Another Sapphist? The land seems to be riddled with them.' He removes wire framed glasses and polishes them on a lace kerchief.

'Nggh.' You lift your head and look at him.

A doctor, surely he will help you.

But he sits on the stool between your spread legs and peers at your sex through his glasses.

'They have certain characteristics. He says, casually touching your sex.'

'She was caught inflagrante with another inmate.'

The doctor makes a disapproving sound with his tongue.

'You have started the usual treatment?'

'Yes, Doctor. She climaxed at least four times on the pole this morning.'

'That is a good start. Leave her to me.'

'Doctor.'

'Leave us.'

'Sir, I have a duty to those in my care.'

The doctor removes his glasses and polishes them leaning forward and looking at the woman.

'Yes, Sir.' She curtseys and leaves the room.

*

He probes you with his fingers first and that touch sparks the now familiar jolt of desire. You smell antiseptic, carbolic soap, blood, the scent of an aging body... sweat and fever... putrefaction.

'You seem ambivalent, my dear.'

'Unnggh.'

His fingers push inside you and you nearly climax.

This can't be happening.

'I wonder,' he says, 'if you are as sensitive as some of the others.'

His finger presses against your anal sphincter.

'Ungh!' You arch as he presses it inside you.

No!

Your body trembles with need.

His finger comes out and is replaced with something thicker, harder and you climax violently.

'Hmmm. A sodomist and Sapphist.'

No!

Touch me again.

He stands and shrugs off his coat then, as you lift your head you see him unbutton his breeches.

'Ngghhh.' You shake your head.

'No need to be afraid, my dear.' His cock bobs between his legs already drooling. 'It's for your own good.' He pushes against your sex and you gasp into your gag.

This can't be happening.

You know you want it.

You climax as he enters you.

'Good girl. This is excellent progress.' His fingers tweak your nipples and you cum again. 'We'll have you cured in a trice.'

He pounds into you and you cum when he ejaculates inside. When he withdraws you feel suddenly empty.

'Excellent.' He walks around beside you and wipes his cock on your hair. 'I'm sure matron will send one of the nurses shortly to take you back to your cell.'

You close your eyes with that same ambivalence you are beginning to feel at being in this terrible place.

'I look forward to our next therapy session.' He pulls up his breeched and leaves you alone.

You begin to cry.

*

Footsteps.

You open your eyes and see cowled figure step between your spread legs. It is a woman, a nun in pale woollen robes with a hemp belt. A wooden cross on a leather thong around her neck. Her hands are clasped before her breasts as if in prayer and she holds a candle.

Didn't the soldier say something about this place once being a convent?

You smell incense, burning... charred wood. Hear screams...

The nun does not turn to look at you.

The one behind her does, making the sign of the cross over you before hurrying to follow the leader past you.

'Mnnnggh.' You struggle, pulling at the cuffs holding your wrists.

Help me!

The third nun turns and smiles at you. She has a kind face and soft grey eyes. She glances at those in front of her as if to check they are not watching, reaches out and touches you.

Intimately.

The scent of burning wood strengthens then fades. You smell incense again, taste... wine, feel the warm skin of another pressed to your body.

'Mmmnpph.'

The nun smiles and touches your sex again.

'Unnggh.'

You think you might climax if she touches you again but she does not even though you lift your hips urgently.

She walks on and another passes you with a smile but does not reach to touch you.

Others do. Fingers caressing your gaping sex, running down your spread thighs. One of them circles your clit with her finger and you moan into your gag, writhing in lust but frustrated just as you were in the night bound in the straight jacket with the wooden phallus moving inside you.

You look up, gasping.

The last woman... girl is blonde. Your age. Buxom. Her nun's habit clean new and unpatched.

You smell incense... paper... and burning... charred wood.

This must be a dream or maybe I'm dead and she is an angel?

'The mother superior says you have been displayed enough.'

Your muzzle is removed.

'Now, that's a pretty face.' The girl smiles. She has a round face, blue eyes, long blonde hair. She releases your wrists and you bring your hands down over your body. Then she frees your ankles and helps you lift your feet from the stirrups. Then she helps you sit up.

'Thank you.'

'You really are a pretty one.' She takes hold of your chin and looks into your eyes. 'I mean, if I was really into girls, I'd certainly be there. But you're not him.'

'Not who?'

'The soldier.'

'The soldier?'

'Looks like a devil but when you get up close...' Her face takes on a rapturous expression.

'Can you... help me escape?'

'Oh no.' Those blue eyes widen in mock horror. 'I'm to bind you and leave you in your cell to contemplate the errors of your ways.'

'Wait.' You reach out. Catch hold of her arm and feel that jolt of sensation again. That, and pure lust.

'I will only be gone a moment.' She smiles and uncurls your fingers from her arm.

*

You should run but, the moment she leaves the room, you drop to your knees unable to stop your fingers from reaching between your legs.

The way those women, those nuns, touched you! It was so wrong, such a violation and yet... Couldn't they have gone a little further. Your sex is on fire, burning with need. You can't stop yourself.

You scream as you climax violently.

Better than the ones astride the pole.

Then, gasping, you kneel up and reach between your legs to pull out the butt plug.

'Masturbation is a sin.'

You look up to see the pretty young nun.

'I wasn't...'

'Bearing false witness is a sin too.' She looks at the wooden plug you have just removed. 'As is sodomy.'

'The Mother Superior says I'm to tie and gag you so you can meditate on your sins.' She is carrying a length of rope.

'I wasn't... they made me. Wait. No, not really.'

'You are a wild one.' She giggles. 'But I'm sure we can come to some arrangement. 'Now come on, hands behind your back.'

'Do you have to?'

Not 'no'. Not 'get away from me'.

You really should run.

She pulls your hands behind your back and ties your wrists.

'I'm sister Eloise, by the way.'

'Kathryn.'

'Kathryn,' she muses. 'My sister was Kate.'

She loops a rope around your elbows and draws them together.

'Come on.' She ties a rope around your neck and you climb off the couch allowing her to lead you from the doctor's room and out into the corridor.

You pass several cells with the occupants appearing to be nuns dressed as Sister Eloise or in their undergarments. Some are kneeling praying, some are reading. One lies on her side naked, her arms bound behind her and her ankles tied.

'Sister Theresa is a sinner too.'

Sister Theresa smiles at you, grey eyes flashing as she winks.

'Don't be too long Eloise.'

'Hush your mouth, Theresa or I'll gag you.'

'But then I wouldn't be able to use my tongue.' She flutters her tongue suggestively.

*

Sister Eloise leads you into an empty cell.

'Right, you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours.' She pulls her habit over her head revealing a curvaceous body with full breasts and red nipples. Then she tugs on your leash, pulling you to your knees and guiding your face towards her lower belly.

Kneeling with your hands bound, you look up at her.

'What?' She asks. 'You want me to kiss you first.'

'It might be nice.'

She's very pretty and you know now how much you like girls... like what girls can do to you.

'You are a one.' Sister Eloise drops to her knees in front of you and takes your face in her hands, guiding you toward her and kissing you on the lips.

You feel that jolt again. Your senses reel. Lust swells inside you.

'Who are you?'

'Sister Eloise, I just told you. Are you soft in the head, girl?'

'No, I...'

She kisses you. Her lips are plump and firm and her tongue warm. She tastes of honey and you smell spring... fresh earth. Innocence.

Her fingers slide down your body, brushing your nipples and then stroking your belly. You want to touch her too but you are bound.

'You could untie me.'

She laughs. 'You are a one.'

Her fingers slip between your legs and those sensations multiply.

Or you could push me down and play with me until I cum like the slut I've become.

She pushes you back and you yield.

'Now be a good girl.' She swings round and suddenly her sex is above your face and, crouching over you she rakes her tongue over your sex.

'Don't be shy.'

You lift your head and push out your tongue touching her sex.

'Oh, good girl.'

The second touch of her tongue makes you gasp and you know she is smiling.

'I get a lot of practice.' She giggles. 'Though not with your sort.'

You puzzle at this but her sex is in front of you and she is working diligently on yours. You push your tongue into her and hear her gasp.

*

'You are good.' Sister Eloise lies beside you, her mouth close to yours, her blue eyes gazing into yours. 'I'm almost inclined to take you to my cell.'

'You could untie me and let me go.'

She laughs. 'Yes, like I'm going to do that.'

'Why not?'

Your body is sated... oh God, the orgasms were amazing - but you are still a prisoner.

'You cannot leave this place. Even you can't do that.'

'Why not?'

'You just can't.' She seems agitated. 'It's... the rules. Come on.' She stands and dresses.

'But...'

'Open up.'

'What? Why?'

She pushes the gag into your mouth.

'That's better. No more crazy ideas.' She pulls you to your feet and leads you from the cell.

*

The cell she guides you into is lit only by moonlight. It must be night again. She helps you lie down then ties your ankles together. Then she takes another rope and pulls your ankles up to your wrists.

'That should stop you playing with yourself,' she says, smirking. 'I'll pray for you.'

'Nmmnngghh.'

'I'll be back in the morning.' Her voice suggests amusement. 'Or before, perhaps.'

The cell door closes behind her.

'Nmmnngh.' You struggle, rolling onto your side and then your back, tugging at the ropes but they hold firm.

'Have you sinned too?' A voice in the darkness.

'Nnngh.' You shake your head.

There is a rustle of chain. The sound of movement.

A girl emerges from the darkness at the back of the cell. She is on her knees and has a collar around her neck like the green-eyed girl but you can see a paddock swinging from this one, not just a pin. She wears a leather hood that covers her face - just two small holes over her nose and another larger one for her mouth. She holds arms are behind her back and you think they must to tied or chained there. Her skin is very pale and probably freckled. You can seen a wisp of curly hair which is probably red emerging from beneath the hood.

'Hmmmg eemm.'

'Are you gagged?'

'Mmmm.' You nod although it is obvious she can't see you.

'Did sister Eloise bring you here?'

'Mmmm.'

The girl nods.

'She visits me sometimes.' Her head moves as if she is trying to look at you despite the hood.

'Is she punishing you?'

'Mmm.'

'She's usually nice to me.' Her voice lightens then she lowers her head. 'Not like him.'

'Ehhh?'

'The one who brought me here. He told me he did it to teach me the error of my ways. He calls me a temptress. That's why he makes me wear the hood.'

'Eh?'

'The one who keeps me here. He was a soldier, I think.'

A soldier.

You want to weep. That thread of hope that he would come for you vanishes and you tug at your bonds frantically.

'You're tied up.'

'Mmm.'

'Where are you. Maybe I can help you.' Her head swivels.

'Ere.'

She fixes on your direction and crawls towards you, the chain to her collar lifting as if trying to pull her back.

'Nnngh.' She squirms toward her until her knee bumps against your side then bends over you and you feel her lick your arm.

It is strange but not unpleasant and you feel another jolt or sensation - the scent of perfume, music, fear, acceptance... loneliness. You taste chocolate.

'Unnghh?'

'When a girl is kept like this, she has to find other ways to feel for things.' Her tongue runs up your arm. 'You have been with the nurses.'

'Mmmm.'

'Sister Eloise told me about them. They're not very nice. I hear them sometimes... shouting. And the patients. They seem to cry. I don't think they are treated very well.'

Her tongue traces over more of your skin reaching your neck and then your cheek.

'I prefer the nuns. Especially sister Eloise.' She turns, half kneeling beside you feeling for the strap of your gag with her fingers. 'They pray for me and I like to listen to them chanting.'

She grasps the strap surprisingly dextrously considering her hands are cuffed behind her and pulls.

'Ung.'

'Sorry if that hurts - because I can't see I do fumble things.'

The strap goes slack and you push the muzzle from your mouth.

'Thang you,' you say trying to move your jaw.

'Sister Eloise makes me give her a kiss when she does something for me.'

'Are you expecting me to kiss you?'

'It would be nice.'

'Alright.' You roll onto your side and she kneels up. 'Down here.'

'I know where you are. I can hear you.' You see her smile inside the hood then bend her lips towards yours. As you meet them, the sensations wash over you again.

'That was nice,' she says, 'can I kiss you back?'

'Of course.'

'I promise to untie you in a minute.'

'Shouldn't you untie me now? Perhaps we could escape.'

'I do not think he will come back,' she says seriously. 'And I've been a bit lonely recently.'

'But...'

'Is it daytime or nighttime?' She asks.

'Evening.'

'Oh.'

Her lips touch yours again and arousal fills your body, your pulse quickening and your skin flushing. That heat between your legs surges again. You are not entirely sure how effectively two girls who are tied up can please each other but think it might be fun to find out. And later you'll ask this girl who she is and why she is there. But for the moment your body wants... needs something else.

She kneels up.

'Perhaps I should untie you in the morning.'

'I'd rather you did it now.'

'But if I leave you tied up you'll stay with me. And I am quite lonely.'

'What's your name?' You ask, breathless, trying to fight down your need. You should escape. You are both prisoners here.

There are no such things as ghosts. Although there is a lot here that is hard to explain.

However, this girl is real.

'Melody Fowler, perhaps you've heard of me. I assume my disappearance has been in the papers.'

'Oh.' You frown. 'I'm not from round here.'

'Of course, you accent. Are you from New York?'

'Boston.'

'Then you might not have heard about me. I've been here for some time.'

She is kneeling above you and you look up at her, at her slim body and her bare breasts and the collar and the hood, the way she kneels with her head up as if it is completely normal to by chained by the neck and have her hands cuffed behind her back.

'How long have you been here?'

'I don't know. He used to come and see me every day I think.'

'The man who kidnapped you?'

'Yes.' She nods her head. 'But it has been a long time now. I don't know exactly how long. I can't see when it's daytime or night. Sister Eloise visits and talks to me. When I first heard her voice, I thought I was going mad but now I know she's real. The other nuns are too. And the nurses, I suppose. I'm not sure why they don't release me. I suppose the man won't let them.'

'The soldier?'

'Yes. There's another man comes sometimes. Another soldier, I think.' She smiles. 'He brings me chocolate. I miss chocolate.'

'Does he do anything else?'

She draws back. 'No!' She sounds shocked. 'The man before did. I didn't like him except when he gave me chocolate but he only did that afterwards. After he touched me. Then sometimes, he'd punish me too for being a temptress. The other soldier is nice though. We talk. He says he saw an angel here once.'

'He doesn't let you go though?'

'No. I suppose he doesn't have the key to my collar.' She shakes her head. 'Can I kiss you again?'

'Yes.'

*

The touch of her lips reignites the lust inside you and almost before you realise what is happening her head is between your legs, held a little apart by your crossed bound ankles and is insinuating her tongue into your sex with a deftness that is breathtaking. Bubbles of intense sensation burst inside you making you gasp - lust, need... yearning. Her own sex is there before your face, smoothly shaved and inviting and you cannot resist the urge to do your best to please her although you know you possess nothing like her skill.

Touching her with your tongue heightens the sensations inside you as if you are drinking them down - lapping them up. Your skin tingles and your flesh quivers with the need her touch arouses.

'Please,' you beg. 'Don't make me cum too quickly.'

'But if you do, we can just do it again,' she says then her tongue is back on your clit and the world around you explodes like the universe.

You come to a few moments later. Your cheek rests on your thigh and her head, hidden by the hood is still between your legs. Embarrassed by your lack of self control you being to lap at her sex again.

'That's nice,' she says encouragingly.

'Not as good as you.' You are already craving her touch again.

'I've had a lot of practice.' She kisses your sex. 'If you stay we can play with each other.'

'Don't you want to escape?'

'I'd like to see the world again but I have friends here. Sister Eloise... the soldier.... And I wasn't very happy when I lived out there.' She gestures with her head.

'If you untied me, I could go and get help then we could get that hood removed.'

'Yes. You must tell me when it's morning and I will untie you.'

*

'It's probably easier if I do the ropes with my teeth.' Melody kneels above you.

You have spent the night lying together, your bellies and breasts pressed together, her face, hidden inside the hood close to yours. It has been a calmer night than the previous one, perhaps because you are tired from your previous restless night of the constant desire for sex.

You roll onto your belly, your shoulders and legs stiff wondering how she is so comfortable in her bondage. You feel her tongue and lips on the bare skin of your arms, the jolt of that touch reminding you of the moment you woke overnight and turned seeking her touch, how she blindly kissed you and then explored your body with her tongue, her lips and teeth lingering on your nipples before her mouth moved lower.

She finds the ropes around your wrists, tugging at them. It takes some time but she manages to release the rope holding you in the hogtie and, gratefully you straighten your legs as far as you are able.

You direct her to your elbows and she begins to tug at the ropes, working with her teeth and, eventually, you feel them ease apart.

'Sister Eloise has been very thorough,' she says as you guide her down to your bound wrists.

'Yes, she has.' You glance round. 'Will she come back?'

'At some point, yes. I hope so anyway.'

'Who are they?'

'Who?'

'The nuns.'

'I don't know. They're just here. Like I said, I thought I was going mad and had imagined them before but now I know they are real.'

'But this building is deserted, derelict.'

'Then who tied you up?'

'I...'

There are no such thing as ghosts.

The rope on your wrists falls away and you sit up rubbing your wrists then untie your ankles. Melody kneels patiently at your side.

'Can you see if there is any chocolate left. I think he usually left it by the door.'

'Ok.' You stand unsteadily.

With the morning light, you can only see part of the cell. There are various items on a packing crate by the door - a hurricane lamp, a bible, two padlocks; there is also a leather strap like the one the nurses used to beat you - all are beyond the reach of the chain around Melody's neck.

There is also a partially eaten bar of chocolate; the wrapper, once brown is faded. The chocolate inside is a pale brown with age.

There are no such things as ghosts.

'It's really old.'

'I'm really hungry.' Her tongue runs over her lips and you see her smile. 'And I really like chocolate.'

'I could come back with some fresh.'

'I'm really hungry. Please.' She holds her mouth open.

You break off a piece and place it on her tongue.

'Mmmm.' She smiles and licks her lips spreading chocolate on them. 'Thank you.'

'I'll come back for you, I promise.'

'Please don't go.'

You hug her and feel her trembling then stand and step into the doorway. The light is illuminating the back of the cell. You can see a shadow, a human form, it seems to have a chain around its neck connecting it to the wall.

'Melody.' You try to keep your voice steady.

She lifts her head.

'How long.... Wait. When were you kidnapped?'

'17th June nineteen sixty six.'

There is a noise outside.

'That might be him coming back.' Melody turns her head, lifting her chin, the chain around her neck clicking.

'Melody...'

'Go, quickly.'

You turn and run.

There are no such things as ghosts.

*

Two of the nurses are coming towards you, one carries a straight jacket and another a pair of cuffs like those they used on your ankles. You turn and run in the other direction, your bare feet slapping on the concrete. Another two nurses appear in front of you.

'There she is.'

To your left is a metal staircase. You climb it. There are another two nurses on the next landing and you climb again. You can hide somewhere and then come down later. It is a shame Melody will have to wait longer but then...

... she's been waiting a very long time.

There are no such things as ghosts.

There was a convent here... the nuns were burned alive... the sanatorium - fell down.

And there's a girl here who was kidnapped in 1966.

You reach the top of the stairs. You are above the refectory on a gangway. Some of the patients look up. A few point at you.

The sanatorium fell down.

The gangway shifts under you.

There is a door to your right. More an opening in the brickwork. Your step off the gangway as it crumples, falling into the space below. You are safe here.

Except you are falling.

Air rushes by you and you see the ground rise to meet you.

You scream and then your hit the ground.

*

You are surprised the fall only left you winded as you struggle to your feet unsteadily. You must have fallen three or four stories.

The soldier stands beside you.

'Where have you been.'

'Out here waiting for you.'

'I fell.' You gesture up to the building behind you.

'Yes.' He looks down and you follow his gaze.

'Oh.'

Your body is lying at your feet, your head twisted at an unnatural angle as is your left leg. There is blood around your head.

'It was inevitable.'

You gape at him though feel oddly calm.

There are, after all, no such things as ghosts.

'We can see each other,' he explains. 'Usually mortals can't see us unless...'

'Unless?'

'Unless they are soon to join us.'

'What if I don't believe you?'

'That's up to you. It takes a while to get used to it.' He takes your hand. 'Come over here.'

He leads you to his camp and points to the mound of earth with the cross.

'That's me.'

'Could't you have warned me?'

He shrugs. 'What would you have done?'

You frown at the question.

'I don't know, maybe...'

'When death comes she comes.'

'She?'

'Or he.'

You recall the story about the man who hired the fastest horse to escape death.

You still feel oddly calm.

'And you stayed here.'

'This is as good a place as any to spend eternity,' he says. 'Besides, maybe the Angel will return.'

'There are angels too.'

'Only ever seen the one. Just before I was shot. Most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Can't help feelin' she's watching over me.'

He shrugs.

'It's not a bad life. There's a certain... tranquility. Besides...', he looks more uncertain, '... Melody is here.'

'She doesn't know, does she?'

'Not yet.'

'Shouldn't you have told her?'

He shrugs. 'Why?'

'But she's stuck in a cell, chained up and hooded and...', you feel a flash of memory '... she's there. Her body, I mean.'

'And yours is over there, mine is here. The nuns are...', he gestures, 'and those from the sanatorium are scattered around.'

Maybe you banged your head and were knocked out briefly.

Maybe this is a hallucination.

There are no such things as ghosts.

***

You are woken by a sound. Voices. Living voices. You slip from beside Melody leaving her sleeping. Her body, like yours, sated. She really has a very talented tongue and you are becoming skilled too or, at least, you sometimes have to hold your hand over her mouth when she screams your name.

Opening the door of the cell, you peer out cautiously. The nurses caught you again last week and it was two days before the Sister Eloise rescued you. The corridor seems clear and you creep along it to peer out of the broken section of wall at its end.

There are two men in black suits standing on the ground below. One holds a tablet.

'You know she's almost certainly dead, Tully,' the older looking one of the two says swiping his hand at the insects that buzz around him.

'A body would bring closure to the family and, if nothing else, it might clear Xandria Reynolds.'

That's a name you haven't thought about for a while. She's the girl you were travelling to meet. The girl you met on the internet.

'You really think she's innocent?'

'I know they agreed to meet but that's all circumstantial. We don't have any evidence to place Kathryn Walker anywhere near where Reynolds lives and she got off the Greyhound bus up the road from here.'

'At a crossroads where she could have got on any other bus or hitched a lift. The girl was a runaway. She was putting it about. She could have spread her legs for some trucker and he dropped her where she wanted to go.'

You fold your arms and huff in indignation.

'Or killed her.'

'Let's get this over with.' The older man takes out a pocket handkerchief and wipes his forehead.

'Who are those men?'

You turn to see Sister Eloise standing beside you.

'I think they're FBI... policemen. They're looking for me.' You slip your arm through hers. 'Shall we go and see if they find me?'

'Go outside.' Her eyes widen. 'It's not aloud.'

'Sure it is. I do it all the time.'

'Yes, but you're you and...'

'The Mother Superior says it's a sin.'

'You mean you've never been outside?'

'Once...'

'Well then...'

'It was a long time ago.'

'How long, exactly?'

'The civil war.'

'Then we have to change that, sin or no.'

'No.' She pulls back from you.

'Come on, if the Mother Superior finds out the worst she'll do is strip you naked and tie you to one of the refectory tables to demonstrate your sin.'

'It's not that.'

'What?'

'Something bad happened last time. The Soldier...'

'The Soldier?'

'I'm the reason he's dead.'

'It was eighteen sixty something, he'd be dead by now regardless.'

'But it wouldn't have happened then... that night. It was All Saints Eve.'

'Halloween.'

'I was watching though one of the windows in the refectory. I saw him. I thought he was a demon at first with his dark skin and his long coat. The Mother Superior had warned us about them. Warned us to be on our guard for the temptations of Satan. And I took my cross and went to confront him.'

You smile at the thought of the laissez-faire soldier being confronted by this blonde in white robes.

'What happened?'

'He thought I was an Angel. He put down his musket and dropped to his knees. He seemed so gentle and he was... so handsome. That's when he was shot.'

Tears are streaming down her face.

'It was my fault. That's why I don't go outside.'

'You're frightened he will seek revenge?'

You really can't imagine it but then you are fairly new to being dead.

'I watch him,' she says wistfully with a sad smile.

'Then we're going outside.' You take her arm and lead her along the corridor and down the metal staircase towards the metal door you came in through three months ago.

She pauses at the threshold but you reassert your grip and propel her through.

Her eyes widen in the sunlight and she looks around, a smile spreading across her face. She wipes away her tears with the back of her hand.

Turning the corner you see the two men crouching over your body. Special Agent Tully has his tablet out and is looking at your photo. His older partner is finishing a call on his cell-phone.

'Forensic team will be here in a couple of hours.' The older man wipes sweat away his forehead. 'We should go back to the car and wait for them.'

'There was another girl disappeared round here, you know.' Agent Tully swipes his fingers across the tablet and a black and white image of a girl appears. She is pretty with a small slightly turned up nose, and freckles, blue eyes and curly red ringlets. 'Melody Fowler. Disappeared 17th June 1966.'

'And you're expecting to find her too?'

'No, just came across it when I researched this place.'

'Come on, let's go back to the car.'

Melody!

'Wait,' you shout as much at the men as Sister Eloise and then turn and run inside.

The metal door to the building is wedged open but the door to the cell is easy to move.

'Kate?' Melody is kneeling in the cell in a patch of sunlight, she turns her head towards you as you enter.

'Yes.'

'What's happening? I woke and you were gone.'

'There are people here... men.'

'Are they here to rescue us?'

'Kind of.'

'We can keep in touch though, can't we? When we're free, I mean.'

'Oh, Melody.' Your chest clenches and you glance at the shadow lying in the corner of the cell.

You slam the cell door.

Melody jerks in her bonds, turning to the noise.

'Kate?'

'It's alright.' You jump up onto the bed beside the window.

The two agents have stopped.

'Maybe it was the wind,' says the older man.

'Might be a hobo or someone who can give us more information.'

'Tully! We've found the body. The parents will get closure.'

'I'm gonna take a look.'

The older man rolls his eyes. 'Come on then.'

They turn back towards the crumbling building.

*

You slam the door again when you hear their shoes crunching on the concrete.

'Down here.'

They come towards you. Agent Tully holds a flashlight. You step aside as they enter the cell.

'Jesus.' Tully turns, retching.

'Kate?'

'It's alright my love.' You crouch behind Melody holding her shoulders and kissing her neck gently.

The older man is on his phone again. 'It's Kinkade again, we got another body.'

'Body?' Melody says.

'Body,' you repeat.

'It's mine, isn't it?' She whispers.

'Yes.'

She sags in your arms and you hold her gently.

'There are bolt cutters in the car.' Tully says.

'Forensics will see to it.'

'We can't just leave her like this.'

'She's been here a long time, Joe,' Kinkade says laying a gentle hand on the younger man's shoulder.

'She needs to go out into the light.'

'It's just a little longer, Joe.'

Tully nods and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.

'Come on, Joe, let's go to the car. You've done a good job today, son.'

*

You watch them go from the window of the cell.

Sister Eloise stands where you left her watching them.

The Soldier appears. He is carrying his rifle.

He catches sight of Sister Eloise and stops, his mouth hanging open.

Then he falls to his knees.

Sister Eloise stiffens.

'What's happening?'

'The Soldier has just seen his Angel again.'

'She went outside?'

'Yes.'

'He loves her you know.'

You smile. 'Yes, I know.'

You watch as Sister Eloise walks slowly towards the kneeling man and drops to her knees before him.

'I wish I could go outside,' she says.

'Maybe you will soon.'

Agent Tully emerges from the trees. He is holding the bolt cutters. He walks straight by the kneeling couple who, as he passes embrace.

A few moments later, he is in the cell.

You lay a hand on Melody's shoulder.

And then it is done.

Agent Tully lifts the mortal remains of Melody Fowler in his arms and carries her out of the cell.

Melody stiffens.

'Are you ok?'

'The chain on my neck. It feels different.'

There are two links hanging from the back of the collar. Just as there are two links hanging from the back of the body's collar.

'I think you can go outside now.'

You help Melody to her feet, taking her arm gently and leading her as you follow Agent Tully. Her steps are hesitant.

Outside, the FBI man lays Melody's body beside yours.

Beside you, Melody rotates her head as if trying to look through the hood. 'Tell me what's happening.'

You are used to describing things to Melody but not in real time.

'The Soldier and The Angel are together,' you say watching as they kiss. 'And we're together too.'

'Good.' Melody smiles inside her hood and leans in close to you.

***

Southern Gazette: 31st October 2026

Two families united in grief - 60 years apart

The bodies of two missing girls were today laid to rest side by side almost as they were found. Melody Fowler disappeared in 1966 and Kathryn Walker in 2026. Melody was believed to have been abducted but the main suspect, George Singleton, a military veteran who had served in Korea, was killed when his car came off the road during a dramatic police chase. Despite extensive efforts at the time, Melody was never found.

Then, few months ago, Federal agents searching for recently missing teenager Kathryn Walker responded to a tip off of unusual activity in an abandoned sanatorium in Soldier's Cross, Alabama. There they found Kathryn Walker's body where the teenager appears to have fallen to her death. On searching the property, agents subsequently discovered a second set of remains which forensic testing revealed to be those of Melody Fowler.

The gruesome discoveries will no doubt fuel local legends regarding the site that was originally the location of a Carpathian Nunnery. Local records state that the nuns were shut inside and burned alive by the villagers who believed them to be devil worshippers. The sanatorium was later built on the site by philanthropist Joseph Butt 'for the confinement of fallen women, shrewish wives, women who lay with other women and other malhumerous conditions of the feeble female mind'. It is said the sanatorium employed a harsh regime with frequent beatings and humiliation of the inmates.

Locals avoid the site, believing it to be haunted.

During the Federal investigation both families - Kathryn's parents and Melody's sister, now in her seventies and a grandmother - found themselves united in their grief and agreed that the two girl should be buried side by side. A spokesman said: 'Melody and Kathryn could, of course, never have known one another but both seem to have ended up together. We like to think that, had they met, they would have become friends...'

Both girls had run away from home with the intention of meeting a stranger with whom they had corresponded - Melody with Singleton after she responded to a call to write letters to veterans and Kathryn with a woman called Xandria Reynolds whom she'd met in the internet and who was the original suspect in Kathryn's disappearance. Ms Reynolds has now been eliminated from the investigation. Witnesses reported that Kathryn was last seen leaving the bar across the street from the spot where remains were found in the company of a black man described to be 'military' in appearance. The mysterious 'soldier' has not been identified.

Investigations remain ongoing.

***

It is Halloween. My first as a ghost. The Soldier says we will see strange and wonderful things tonight. Some will be dangerous but he has built a fire which he says will protect us from most of them and we sit around it. He has his rifle beside him and I wonder what defence this will be. So far, he has not needed to use it. We have watched a confederate patrol move through the woods around us and a First Nation hunting party tracking some giant ox-like creature. The patrol passed us by as if we were not there but the hunters clearly sensed our presence and nodded as they passed one offering what I think was some sort of blessing or thanks for allowing them passage. The rules of this new life remain somewhat perplexing but I suppose I have a long time to figure them out.

We can hear the music from the Halloween party in the bar across the street. The Soldier has been over to steal chocolate and bourbon.

Melody kneels beside me and I can't help glancing at her frequently. She is so beautiful with her red hair shining in the firelight, contentment radiating from her soft round face and a smile on her pink lips, that pretty nose with its slight upturn that she assures me was not there before she was kept in the hood. And those blue eyes that, when she thinks I am not looking, dart towards me. She may no longer wear the hood but she still has the collar around her neck and the two links of chain remaining where Agent Tully cut it with his bolt-cutters. Her wrists are still cuffed behind her but she assures me she does not mind this, she has become used to it and, kneeling as she is now with her head held up and her shoulders back, she looks as comfortable as I feel lounging beside her with my feet in her lap. The position makes her pretty breasts stand out and, I swear that every time she glances at me, her pink nipples stiffen even though we are all warm around the fire. Having her chained like this has other advantages too - I can feed her chocolate in exchange for kisses and, when we lie together as we do most nights, and I tease her, she has to use her tongue to explore my body.

Sister Elise is with us, lying with her head in the Soldier's lap. I think Melody and I have corrupted her and certainly brought the displeasure of the Mother Superior down upon her. These days she is frequently 'displayed' for the disapproval of her sisters and, when we seek her out at night, we often find her in her cell with her hands bound to stop her sinning. If the Mother Superior knew what other sins she committed with us and, at least once per week with the Soldier, I think her curvaceous little body would never be released from the rack in the refectory.

The three of us girls are naked. Sister Eloise because she enjoys divesting herself of the heavy robes and Melody and I because the remains of our clothes were taken with our bodies. However, there are blankets in the store of the sanatorium and I lie wrapped in on of these now. It is not strictly necessary, we ghosts don't feel the cold much and, if we did, we have the fire. However, I think our nakedness embarrasses The Soldier a little. He has offered to steal clothing for us from the bar but we don't really need them and the eighteen year old daughter of the owners appears to have quite a thing for sexy lingerie and short dresses. I think if we wore them, The Soldier would be even more embarrassed and I can't imagine what the nuns would make of it. I'm sure the Mother Superior would punish us as the harlots we are if she discovered us dressed so immodestly.

Despite our efforts, we do sometimes fall foul of the nuns - both of us now that Melody is able to move around more freely. The nurses catch us too sometimes and we are forced to endure a night or two of punishment before we can escape or the Soldier comes to rescue us. If I am truthful, I don't really mind this now. As a ghost I know they cannot truly harm me which means the beatings are just something we must endure and, the 'corrective' procedures that happen before and after them more than make up for the brief pain. What girl wouldn't want to be strapped down and forced to endure an endless stream of orgasms as she is repeatedly fucked with a huge dildo? The nurses are familiar enough with us now to know that we both need to be gagged when this happens so that our screams of ecstasy don't disturb their patients.

It is, of course, not our fault the patients are disturbed tonight. Even I can feel the strange allure of those other spirits that walk among us - tonight is for all souls not just those like us that remain. The patients sense it too and I hear their cries and screams and the admonitions of the nurses. The nuns are praying and chanting fearfully. I do not believe they were witches or worshipped the devil despite the stories I have heard.

I startle as I hear gunfire but the Soldier does not stir.

'The patrol has just been ambushed,' he says calmly taking a swig of bourbon.

'Should we have warned them?'

'Tried once,' he says stroking Eloise's hair, 'but they wouldn't listen. In case you hadn't noticed I'm a black man and they southerners don't take too kindly to us telling 'em what's right.'

'Once?' Melody asks. 'How many years has this been happening?'

'Since year of our Lord 1863 or it might have been '64.'

'That's a hundred years before...'. Melody pauses, a flicker of something crossing her face. 'Wait, Kathryn, what did you say the year was now?'

'2026.' I sit up and drape my arm around her shoulders.

'One hundred and sixty years and you tried to stop them once?' Melody persists. She can be quite critical sometimes.

'I didn't try too hard.' He shrugs and takes a swig of bourbon. 'It was them that shot me.' He smiles a little sadly. 'Was on point for my patrol - the one that has just ambushed them.' He takes another swig of bourbon and tosses us a bar of chocolate.

Since I died I've become a whole lot more coordinated and I catch it deftly then open the wrapper and feed a piece to Melody who takes it eagerly and I claim my kiss.

*

It's nearly midnight when the green-eyed girl appears. Since I have persuaded her she can go outside, she spends a lot of time in the grounds sometimes talking to the Soldier. He has introduced her to the bar across the street and she goes there a lot, especially if the nurses come out looking for her. She's developed a bit of a crush on the bar owner's daughter who must be the same age as she was when she was last alive. I'm a little concerned she's haunting the poor girl who, obviously, can't see her. She steals her underwear too and is wearing some now: a black lacy set complete with waspie and stockings.

She's brought someone with her - not the bar owners daughter but a blonde girl in biker leathers.

'So this is where the real party is,' the biker girl says as she gives us the once over, clearly registering that all three of us girls are naked. Her gaze comes to rest on Melody kneeling in her collar and handcuffs.

'This is the Soldier,' the green-eyed girl says, 'and Sister Eloise and the Runaway and...'

'I'm Melody,' says Melody a little primly, lifting her head to look up at the newcomer.

The biker girl's leathers are torn and she has blood on her cheek and in her hair.

'I came off my bike at the bend,' the girl says gesticulating vaguely. 'No harm done fortunately but the bike's a write-off. I went to the bar for help but they seemed too busy with the party to notice me. Then I spotted Valerie here.' She reaches for the green-eyed girl and draws her closer. 'Can you believe no-one else seemed to have noticed her? I mean, I know they were in costume but...' she turns and strokes a finger along one of the green-eyed girl's bra-straps,... dressed like this.'

I watch as they kiss.

'Won't you join us, Miss?' The soldier asks.

'Maybe later.' The biker girl slips off her jacket. She has blood all over her blouse but doesn't seem to have noticed. 'Valerie tells me this place is haunted.' She drapes an arm around the green-eyed girl's shoulders.

'You're off to hunt for ghosts then?' The soldier asks.

The biker girl laughs.

'There are no such things as ghosts,' she says with the certainty of one who knows.