Black Widows - Ep. 02

"Richard Howden, 72, of 78b Mews Lane, died on October 9th..." Another day, another obituary. The passing of a loved one, published in the paper to let the community know of their loss. It's such an emotional thing. Not when you're writing so many of them in a day and that's your only job. The sentences become clusters of letters that have no meaning. I'm sure Mr. Howden was a lovely bloke. Probably saw more of life than I ever will. Yet here I was typing up his obituary while listening to a cozy mystery audiobook in my headphones.

This wasn't the job that I applied for. Although if there was such a vacancy, how would they advertise it? "Do you have a passion for writing about people's loss? Well, we've got the job for you! Obituary writer! People with a heart and conscience need not apply." I joined The Setter Chronicle to report the news people were too afraid to. Be a journalist that was also a sleuth. If that's what I was doing, I wouldn't even mind the peanuts of a wage they paid me. I'd be doing my dream job. But, when you're straight out of university, you have to start from the bottom.

But as demoralizing as this job was, it didn't quash my passion. There was one particular story that had been making the rounds locally: the mysterious disappearances of men in the town. Within the last 3 weeks, the police had put out 4 missing persons reports. All of whom were last seen asleep in their beds by family. Then overnight, PUFF, they disappeared. The only thing left of them were their clothes in Duneich Forest. Every time in the exact same spot. Now this was a story worth following. But the editors at The Chronicle thought covering it was a waste of time. "Missing person cases don't sell."

This didn't stop me from doing my own research. There was no connections between the missing cases other than them being men. But I found old records, dating back to the 19th century, saying that Duneich Forest was once used as a pagan ritual ground. The town, a village at the time, got together to drive out the pagans. How they drove them out, is unclear. I had a folder on my laptop that was a treasure trove of information on the case. And after months of gathering all of this, I decided to get to the bottom of it.

The moss-covered sign read "Welcome to Duneich Forest" with an ambiguous graffiti tag in the bottom corner of it. It either said "Chez was here" or "Cher war hero". It was difficult to say in the dark. I had brought my dad's digital handy cam from the 00s because of its night vision feature. My backpack had several spare batteries, two lion bars, a pot noodle (Bombay bad boy, of course) and a thermos with a litre of boiling water. Not forgetting a roll of loo paper. This journey may be a long one, so I may need to answer nature's call.

Twigs and soil crunched under my boots as I got deeper and deeper in the forest. I turned on the handy cam and pointed it at my face. My face had a tinge of green and my pupils were massively dilated.

"It's about 11 pm on October 12th. I'm in Duneich Forest. So far I've come across nothing but trees and bugs. I am getting more aware of sounds in the darkness. I heard a fox earlier and it sounded like a baby crying. Or maybe that's what my brain interpreted it as..." I stopped in my tracks. I turned the Handycam around, pointing it to what was ahead of me. I zoomed in as far as the 00s technology would allow. "Can you see that? It looks like a fire. Maybe somebody is camping here. Let's find out."

I began walking towards it, the fire getting bigger and warmer as I got close. I kept the handy cam steady, making sure I got a clear shot of what I was seeing. But the closer I got, the footage got overexposed. I realised the night vision was still turned on. I put the camera in normal mode and continued forward.

"There's nobody here. No tents. No people. No nothing. Just a campfire in a clearing. But who..." Before I could finish, a bird swooped down and whacked the handy cam out of the carry strap. The camera clattered to the ground. I rushed to the ground to pick it up. I knew if anything happened to it, my dad would kill me. The camera seemed ok, but when I looked at the rear, the battery had released itself. Even with the light of the campfire, I couldn't find the black battery block amount the dark soil. I got to my knees and started sweeping my hand across the ground hoping my fingers would brush past it. But instead, I saw two feet planted in the ground in front of me. I raised my eyes to see two bare legs, a bare torso, a bare chest and a face with a smile. A woman with dark brown eyes was stood before me, completely naked and smiling.

"Are you finding something?" She asked in a soft voice. I quickly leapt to my feet, covering my eyes.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was here. I'm..."

"Don't be shy." She laughed. "We're all a part of the earth. Why not be free in it?"

"I'm happy in my clothes, thank you," I said, trying to keep my eyes covered and also trying to leave this clearing at the same time. "I'm going to leave if you don't..." I walked into a tree. I head my head and cracked my glasses in the process.

I was sitting with this woman by the fire as she ground up some leaves and berries, heated them in a pot and then wrapped them in a muslin cloth. She patted the hot cloth on my head, a bump forming above my right eye. She leant in as she applied this home remedy. My gaze couldn't help but look down at her breasts. They were large with brown nipples. If I said I didn't have the urge to touch them, I'd be lying.

"Aren't you cold without any clothes on in the middle of the woods in October?" I asked, trying to distract myself.

"Do I feel cold to you?" She asked.

"No. You're actually hot." Why did I just say that? "I don't mean hot like that. It's not like you're not hot. I meant you feel..." She stopped my babbling with a kiss. Her lips were soft and wet. Touching my lips with a gentle yet firm hold.

She broke away from the kiss and smiled at me. "You are adorable." She stood up and began walking away. I got my feet and followed her. She turned around. It was the first time I'd actually noticed a necklace around her neck. There was a small leather pouch hanging from it. We were face-to-face. The orange glow of the campfire reflected off her body. I leaned in for a kiss but she got to her knees. She lowered herself to her knees. Without hesitation, she pulled down my jeans. I didn't even have a chance to stop her. I looked down and my erect penis was flopped in front of her. Her eyes were wide. A playful smile one her lips. She held my stiffness with her two hands, running her tongue along the side of it. It made me shiver. As much as I was enjoying this, a moment of clarity had hit me. I had come out here for a story, not a blowjob. I grabbed my now saliva-covered penis and turned around. I was heading out of the clearing and pulling my jeans back up when the woman was stood in front of me again.

"How did you move so..." I said.

She pushed me to the ground. She only touched my chest but it felt like she had hit me with full force. She pulled my jeans back down. She squatted down. Grabbed my erect penis. She rubbed the tip against her wet pussy lips. The tingling sensation gave me goosebumps. I felt my tip penetrate her. She lowered her hips slowly, feeling myself getting squeezed by her inch by inch. I closed my eyes as I felt her tightness. When I felt I was all the way in, she slapped my chest.

My eyes snapped open. I looked down and she raised herself again. But she didn't bring her hips down again. I just watched. She slapped my chest again. I raised my hips up, sliding deeper inside her. And just like that, I was fucking her while she was on top of me. I started with slow, long motions, but the thrusts became faster and harder. I forgot about the story, the missing men and the forest. I was lost in this whirlwind of pleasure. I didn't want this moment to end.

She pinned my hands to the ground. She pushed my hips down to the ground and started moving up and down on my throbbing cock. Her hands were feeling heavier on mine. I looked to the side and saw her fingernails growing like claws, wrapping themselves around my fingers and burrowing into the ground like wild roots. She was riding me with increasing aggression. Grunting and moaning each time her pussy came crashing down on my crotch. I felt my body getting warmer by the second. Her head was rocked back as she let out a long, hard howl. As her head lowered itself to look at me, there were two curled horns protruding from her head. Her smile was manic and hungry. She brought her face closer to mine as she continued to move up and down.

Even with fear rushing through my mind, I knew I was close to cumming. And she knew this too, because that was the moment her hips moved at an unnatural speed. I wanted to stop, but I couldn't. I exploded inside her. My body was shaking from pleasure. My mind had reached the height of orgasm and was coming down when I heard her laughing. She had released me from her clutches and had come off of me. I quickly got to my feet. I was pulling my jeans up when her laughter got louder and turned into an ear-piercing shriek.

I turned, and she had her claws out to her sides. Her knees bent and ready to run. I didn't think twice and ran. I was panting as the rows of trees became blurred brown and green. I heard the padding of her feet getting closer and closer. It felt as though death was on my heels. I could see the light ahead of me. I was close. I could make it. My foot came crashing down on the tarmac and silence followed. She was no longer behind me. Just the same moss-covered sign with the forest behind it.

I was sitting at my desk the next morning. I couldn't type an obituary without thinking about who would've written mine. To this day, I am unable to shake off the image of the... woman? Could I call her a woman or a creature? Whatever she was, she was engraved into my mind. Not only for the bloodlust she had, but also for the pleasure she had made me feel.