《Return to Wanton Cove》


 Return to Wanton Cove

    HER hand reaches out, her slender fingers the kind of pale that I have only seen in death. The words she speaks from her lipless face reverberate in my mind, telling me everything I need to know. Her intense gaze rivets me, even as I stare back at the place eyes should be. I feel a shiver go through me at I look in awe at her featureless face.


    I won''t flatter myself that she loves me, but she knows I exist, and she has use of me, and that is enough.


    My pulse quickens as she leans closer. I can feel her presence in the dark, her skin emanating a pale glow that demands I not look away from her.


    Then her fingertips touch me. I can feel my arousal spike to impossible heights. That one touch more satisfying than any I have felt before it.


    The moment lasts for only a heartbeat before it passes. Shattered in blinding light.


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site."Fuck, doesn''t matter what room we stick this guy in, lights turn faulty. I swear to God, I see things move in the dark sometimes." An orderly dressed in pure white says.


    "Quit being paranoid. He''s just another babbling lunatic, don''t let him get inside your head." The second orderly says sternly.


    Thrashing at the straight jacket confining me, straining so hard that my joints ache, the two orderlies grab hold of me and slams me against the side of the padded room so hard it winds me.


    My lips part, but instead of a groan or curse, I speak the words SHE speaks to me instead, "H'' nog, h'' llll ephainog nilgh''ri ot c''. Ymg'' ah soth, soth! zal''chaas h'' llll tharanak h'' bliss, h'' llll tharanak h'' lloigshogg, h'' ah harbinger ot zhro ng zhro l'' ah c''!"


    There''s a moment of silence as I glare at my captors.


    "I hate it when he does that, have no idea how he makes half those sounds, and it makes my skin crawl every time." The first orderly manages trough gritted teeth


    Then I feel a pinch in my side, an all too familiar feeling of a needle just a split second before I can feel my senses fading, like my world is being crapped in cotton intended to smother me.


    But at my core, I know this is not my end, no more so than the hundred other times I have received the same.


    I know, because I know what comes next, I know my destiny. I know that it is time to return, to return to Wanton Cove.

 Road to Wanton Cove

    Tom looked across the counter at the elderly man.  The man meets his gaze with steely eyes.


    Taking a deep breath, Tom folds back the fabric around the ancient looking book, revealing an old leather bound tome with no obvious engraving on the cover.


    If this is real, . . . if this is what he says it is, . . .   Tom''s hand trembles slightly as he opens the cover.  Inside he finds strange scrawling writing, written in red on yellowed parchment.  It looks almost Arabic, but I don''t recognize any of the characters.


    Horrible drawings of impossible creatures are drawn across the pages in almost every place that the strange text is inked upon its pages.  Carefully, he opens the book to a random page.


    The image he lays eyes on is enough to make his breath catch, his heart racing in sudden fear.  It''s HER.  He takes a half step back, nearly knocking the book from the counter as he does so.  The dreams, how could she be in my dreams when I''ve never seen this image before?  For a flickering moment, Tom panics, fearful that this is somehow another of the horrible dreams that have been plaguing him in recent weeks.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it."And now you believe me,"  The old man''s gravely voice captures his attention.


    There''s horror in Tom''s eyes as he looks away from the book, "How much for the book,"  The tremor in his voice is clear, but he doesn''t care.


    The old man''s chapped lips curl into a grin that reveals a mouth full of rotting teeth, his breath wafting over Tom and making the young man blanch, "Ain''t you curious where it came from?"  There''s an unkind humor on the old man''s tone.


    "Where?"  Tom barely whispers the word as he steps back toward the book, placing a hand upon it protectively.


    Leaning forward, Tom shies away from the old man but doesn''t let his hand leave the old leather bound tome.  The grin that splits the old man''s face seems slightly too wide, his dark eyes widening as he begins to speak again, "Came from a little island out on the East coast, up North.  You can barely find the thing on a map,"  His grin seems to grow even further, "Wanton Cove."


    Tom could feel deep down in his gut, he would go to Wanton Cove, and there he would find the answers that he seeks.


    Turning his attention back to the book, his eyes drift over the feminine form drawn on the page.  Perfect, beautiful, feminine, naked, and every bit as terrible as she is in his dreams.  The creature looked human, or mostly human at least.  But her face, or lack there of, lacked any defining feature, and dangling between her legs in place of a vagina is a massive equine penis that has no place attached to the human form.


    He has to swallow once to form words, "You didn''t answer me, how much."  Tom is surprised at how firm his tone is.


    The old man chuckles softly, "Take it, it''s past time it goes back where it belongs."