SHATTERED DREAMS :: written by: Evangaline The night was drawing closer, shrouding me in blackness. The mist was beginning to rise around the gravestones. I heard the bells strike eleven, time was running out. I knew it was too late to turn back now. My body was screaming, “No, don’t get involved.” But it was too late. Things had started as a bit of fun, a bit of excitement in my ordinary life. I had revelled in the group’s appraisal of me, they had started to follow my lead. No matter what I said, they were happy to follow. I loved the feeling of power over other people, to know no matter what I asked of them or told them to do, they would obey. I was being swept along, telling myself to get off, to let go. But when the crunch came I was never able to do it, The feelings I had were too strong, I didn’t want to give up those feelings of ultimate control. Now the true test of control had come. Our order had become one of the leading forces in the country. The other orders now turned to us, me, for leadership. Someone had discovered this book, the spells and teachings had been almost unintelligible. After months of working my way through it, I had discovered a way to release the inner power of us mortals. If this worked no one would argue about my control. During the hours of darkness I would become the high priestess of the whole country. But now the time had come to perform the ritual, I didn’t know if I could go through with it. I looked round the graveyard, there were many stones, varying from a plain ordinary stone for the lowest peasants, or even a wooden cross, which by now had almost rotted away, to huge stone monuments of crosses, or angels, or other such stupid religious reminders. There was even the occasional crypt. The church had fallen into disrepair when we had found the place. It hadn’t been used as a graveyard in over a hundred years. The caretaker had died and no one had replaced him. The ground had been defiled many times, and was considered as a temple of evil. No one dared to come near the place anymore. Which was great by us, as it meant the law never took us seriously. The church had found out about us and asked the police to put a stop to our meetings, but after a while they decided we weren’t doing anybody any harm, and left us alone. If they knew about tonight things would be a lot different. I could see some of the others begin to enter. I stepped back to watch, they filed into the graveyard trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. It was quite comical really, some were trying to hide under hoods, some just looked nervous, always turning and looking round to see if someone was following them. They hurriedly moved through the graveyard, talking in whispers, occasionally I would hear a muffled, nervous laugh. They didn’t know what was going to happen. I had just called the meeting the other night with no mention of why. They proceeded through the two stone columns at the entrance to the largest crypt in the graveyard. The entrance way was a large stone archway, and had runes carved into the stone at the top of the arch. The crypt, to the best of our research, was over three hundred years old. I had done my own research and I alone knew who was buried there. There were pictures of peasants performing menial tasks engraved in the stone around the base with larger pictures of a lord and master having large banquets and grotesque sexual acts. Along the top were carved angels, each seemed to be bowing and grovelling to the lord. After I saw the last person enter, I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer, I knew the time had come. I moved slowly, almost forcing my feet to move, with an uncontrollable excitement starting to build up inside me. I moved slowly forward, carefully not making a single sound, almost drifting, not wanting to wake the dead. No matter what I felt, tonight was not the night to go stomping around. When I reached the entrance I stopped. Looking inside I could see the stone steps leading the way down. The darkness covering this final resting place. I could hear the darkness calling to me, beckoning to me, enter, come closer, let me embrace your soul, become one with us. I wanted to turn and run, to leave this evil place. Was I the only one who felt it, or did the others feel it as well? Then the darkness reached out taking hold of my hand, started to pull me towards it, gently forcing my feet to move. I could feel it begin to surround me, caress my body, accept me. It knew I was here to join with it and become part of it. My stilleto boots clicked heavily on the stone steps, echoing through the corridor. The steps ran down deep into the earth, almost as if they were heading down to Hell itself. Then I saw the dim light of a hundred candles burning. The soft, warm glow was comforting. The feeling of knowing that there were other people down here was also comforting, but still I felt alone. I don’t know why, we were all down here for the same reason, but I felt that somehow I would not leave this place the same person as I entered. I stood framed in the entrance way. The rest of the order suddenly went silent, all heads turned towards me. I just stood there with my long, black, velvet cape covering my whole body, the hood was pulled forward covering my eyes and hiding my face in darkness. There were a few open mouths of surprise as they saw me, I must have looked almost as a vision of death. So many of them were caught up in this world, thinking of it as a bit of fun, escapism from the real world, not really knowing or caring what we were really doing, not believing. It was the “in thing” for them, the latest fashion. The cave room was relatively large, with four other entrances running off in various directions. It had an altar at the far end, with a human skull in the centre, with a large golden goblet behind it and two candles either side. There was a candelabrum either side, each holding twenty candles. Above the altar was a pentagram carved into the stone wall. On the other walls were various writings in old English, with a lot of runic symbols carved into the stone. Each wall had a picture telling of a different act of horror that the dead lord had committed. Either side the entrance way I was standing in was another candelabrum, the same as the by the altar. In the centre of the room was the large sarcophagus containing the remains of the dead lord. The stone lid had never been touched, to my knowledge. The sarcophagus was ornately decorated, with a variety of designs and pictures, depicting the lord committing numerous horrors to the poor and unfortunate. In some respects I admired him, in others I despised him, In life he had obviously, to me at least, been searching for something, some sort of purpose to his life. But, unfortunately, the people hadn’t liked his methods and before he found what he had been looking for, he had been burnt at the stake. As I entered the room, heads bowed, and feet began to shuffle with fear. Had I that much power over these people? I thought. The odd one or two people that were only here because it was the in thing to do, began to move, without being noticed, to the back of the room. I stopped in front of the altar with my back to the crowd. I picked up the goblet, then holding it high, I turned. “Let us drink to the fulfilment of dreams, to honour the Lord Satrinna.” My voice rang out, strong and clear. A lot more powerful than I thought I could manage. “The time has come to bring forth power and understanding. Let the unbelievers leave now, for only those true to our cause may stay.” As I suspected, no one moved. I drank heavily, the dark liquid, from the goblet and then passed the cup to my nearest follower. He in turn took a sip and passed it to the next. When everyone had taken a sip I moved to the head of the sarcophagus, entering the ceremonial circle and inscriptions marked in chalk on the stone floor. “Now everyone is a part of the night. With my blood we are united, our bodies are one.” I spoke gently, soothingly, trying to reassure my followers. Knowing no matter what I said, they would do as I asked. My hands went up to the large metal clasp, fastening my cape. Undoing the clasp, I let the cape sliver down my body to the floor. I stood there in a black, leather corset, with fishnet stockings attached, and my thigh length, black, leather boots. My hands were covered with long, black, velvet gloves. The rest of my body was completely naked. A few mouths fell open in surprise, and one or two of the women turned slightly. This had been unexpected, I had never stood before them before, with so few clothes on. “Bring him forward.” I ordered. and two large men came out of the shadows, dragging a naked young man, behind them. He was very handsome, with thick blond hair and powerful muscles. He was trying desperately to escape, then he caught sight of me, and stopped. He turned and looked me up and down. His confident manner was beginning to return. He nodded in appraisal of my body. He blushed quite nicely as his member started to straighten. He was a man’s man, always in control, and very confident about his looks. Obviously he felt he was irresistible to women. Then the two men lifted him onto the top of the sarcophagus. The surprise on his face was delicious, I felt my sex start to warm. They laid him spread eagled on top, and began to fasten his wrists and ankles to metal rings at each corner of the sarcophagus. His expression changed from surprise to horror, he started to tug at the chains fastening his wrists and ankles. As he discovered they wouldn’t budge he stopped and stared at me. I felt a sharp pain of guilt, knowing it wasn’t really his fault he was here. I had walked for hours looking for the right person, he had to look right but he had to be someone who wouldn’t be missed, Now I had him, I felt sorry for him. He was innocent amidst these surrounding, this ceremony. But all my own personal feelings were beginning to vanish as the time drew closer. His member was surprisingly stiff, this I hadn’t expected. I thought I would of had to encourage him to enjoy himself. My own sex was by now starting to ache in anticipation. I wanted him, I loved the look of helplessness on his face, yet he wanted me. His eyes asked me to let him go, to take me in his arms, to give me my hearts desire, not like this, helpless, unable to respond, unable to return the pleasure I was about to give to him. I lifted a velvet scarf off the altar and tied it round his head, covering his eyes. He started to wriggle again, “No.” He pleaded. “Let me see you.” “Hush.” I quietly replied, stroking the side of his face with my lips. “Now be a good boy, or I’ll have to gag you. You’ll like it better like this anyway.” He went quiet as his world turned into blackness. I moved along the side of his body, running my gloved hand down his firm body, tracing every muscle, every contour of his powerful physique. His member grew even stiffer, the skin started to peel back allowing the soft red end to poke through. My hands moved over his body, caressing, feeling my way, I needed to know his body, I wanted to be able to close my eyes and see him lying there. His mind must have whirled, not knowing where I was going to touch next, what I was going to do. He waited patiently for the inevitable. I moved closer letting my lips touch his skin. I kissed him gently, full on the lips, His mouth opened in response, he moved his head up towards mine, trying to bring me closer. His tongue came experimentally into my mouth, testing me. He wanted my body, he wanted to make love to me, I could taste his eagerness. I broke away and moved my mouth slowly down his body, stopping occasionally to kiss some special part. My tongue was continually touching and caressing his body as I moved. I stopped and gently squeezed his nipples between my teeth. He gave out a slight whimper. My hand moved down between his legs, softly caressing his balls. His member was fully erect now, ready, eager for my sex to devour it. It started to twitch in anticipation. His body wasn’t used to this sort of gentle loving of treatment. My lips took hold of his member. It was by now very thick and hard. The end had become slightly damp. My fingers found his nipples again, and slightly squeezed, bringing them fully erect again. My other hand moved round to gently massage his scrotum. My mouth moved up and down, hungrily sucking his large erect penis. Taking slow strong stokes, devouring his manhood. I could feel my own sex grow damp with anticipation, my nipples were hard and erect. I let them touch his body, bring new life to his already erect penis. I knew I was teasing him. He wanted me more than anything else in this world at this moment in time. His hips started to rise to meet my mouth. My tongue darted out to caress the soft end. He was trying desperately not to come, he wanted to do that inside me. I then lifted myself on top. Sitting astride his body, my hands ran up and down his body, over his manly chest. I leant forward, letting my breasts lightly touch his chest. He struggled to move his hands, to bring them forward to caress the soft bare skin of my breasts. I wanted him to, I wanted to feel his gentle touch, to take me in his arms and take control. My sex was very wet and eagerly awaiting his thick penis. It took all my will not to allow my feelings to take over. I heard my followers chanting in the background. I could see them start to sway with the rhythm of our movements. You could feel the excitement and emotion coming out of the group. The sound was coming to a climax. Both of our bodies were also building to the same conclusion. I moved on top, teasing the end of his penis with the soft, wet lips of my open sex. His hips rose, bringing his member closer to my vagina, trying to enter, to bring his enjoyment to its ultimate conclusion. I slowly settled down, taking his whole member inside myself. It hurt as it entered, the thickness of his penis stretching my sex to its limit. The slight pain added to my excitement, I almost came with pleasure. He moved his hips up and down, forcing himself deeper inside me. I started to move with the rhythm of the chanting, pumping his penis, bringing it to heights of excitement that it had never reached before. I heard the church bells start to chime twelve, midnight. I knew the moon was full, and the moonlight would light the graveyard in a wash of brilliant white light. I began to chant the sacred words inscribed around the lid of the sarcophagus. As I rocked, impaled on his erect member, unable to move other than up and down, my back started to hurt, then my hands and feet started to ache. Then his penis exploded inside me, the sperm shooting up inside me, almost cleansing me. I orgasmed, my juices sprang forth soaking his still spurting member, trickling out round the base of his penis. My sex opened, trying to suck his penis deeper inside. I heard a gasp of surprise from my followers. Out of the corner of my eye I saw several people begin to point, some started to shuffle backwards. My back ached now, like something inside me was trying to escape. A strange animal instinct started to rise from deep inside myself. I started viciously pumping my victim. He started to cry out in pain. My hands came forward to gently sooth his face. I saw my hands begin to change, I could see the hair begin to grow, sprout from the backs of my hands. I clawed at his shoulders. I saw the blood come forth as I pulled my hands back in surprise. I had left deep groves in both shoulders. My feelings surprised me I actually liked the smell, the feeling of being in total control. As I continued to ride him, I licked my fingers, savouring the taste of the blood. My hands were now totally covered with hair, my nails were now an inch long. I could feel the hair start to grow out of my back, my legs, and my arms. I was changing, my new animal instincts were starting to take over I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t stop the feeling I needed this man, I wanted him. He was screaming now in pain, but still I wouldn’t let go. I lifted my head and howled, calling on the dark powers now running berserk in the cave. I leapt from the top of the sarcophagus, leaving the man in pain, He was bleeding where I had torn at his skin. My followers moved back, some of them started for the exit, fleeing in horror of what they had just witnessed. I stood, scanning my surroundings. Then all my followers bolted for the entrance. Within seconds I was alone with my victim. He had stopped screaming now, and lay there crying in pain. I pulled off the scarf covering his eyes, with a sick sense of pleasure. He looked up into my wolf’s eyes. The shock was too much for him. The thought that he had actually enjoyed sex with me, a werewolf, was too much, his eyes clouded over and he passed out. The ground began to shake, a single crack appeared in the ceiling high above, a sliver of silver moonlight pierced the blackness, illuminating the far wall of the room, where, to my bewilderment, an inscription began to appear. I stood, frozen to the spot, and filled with horror as I read the words: “Thou who art seeking immortality, be now forever cursed, from this day forth, to roam as a creature of the night. RELISH IN YOUR DAMNATION.” The outcome of the evening’s ritual suddenly hit me, as I realised what I had become, and that immortality and power had its price. I knew I would never be the same again, my life had been torn apart. I could not return to my home. I was condemned to wander the world aimlessly, constantly trying to stay one step ahead of the stories which were sure to follow.