CHAPTER 390: THE GIRL WHO CALLED THE DARKNESS II

Delia

Someone starts to knead my breasts, pinching my nipples and causing me to arch my back in pleasure. At this point, I could barely hear a word of what they were saying. The sensations were overwhelming, and I could feel my body gearing up to a heightened sense of pleasure.

As I continue to service the man in my mouth, I feel a hot jet of something splash against the back of my throat. I tried to remove my mouth, but Steve pinned my face to his, groaning out and moving his hips erratically.

Jordan and Tommy took turns pounding into me from behind and in front, their sweaty bodies grinding against mine. My cries of pleasure mingle with their grunts and gasps, creating a symphony of lust that echoes off the walls of the alleyway.

As they continue to use me, my muscles clench around them, milking whoever was inside me for all they’re worth.

I felt my woman’s core clutch suddenly, and I let go of the person inside my mouth, throwing my head backwards as I groaned in pleasure. Waves of pleasure washed over me, while I thrust my hips into the person behind me.

I could feel them shooting something warm inside of me. My body vibrated as I rocked them one last time.

Finally, the four of us collapsed to the ground, exhausted.

After a few minutes, I lay on the cold ground, watching as the boys rose to their feet, adjusted their clothing, and all of them had proud smiles on their faces.

"You liked it, freak, didn’t you?" Steve sneered and reached into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled $50 bill, which he threw at me. "Since you enjoyed it too, I think this is fair enough."

Tommy leaned down to squeeze my breasts one last time before they turned and started moving away, laughing.

Now that the initial pleasure had died down, everything hurt. The humiliation stung worse than the physical pain I felt.

This was my life, working myself to death just to be treated like garbage by people who threw away more money than I made in a week.

I managed to pick myself up, realising now that I was bleeding. Just as I managed to zip up my gown, I heard a loud shriek that pierced through the night.

I wobbled to the entrance of the alley, staring in the direction of where I’d heard the noise. To my surprise, I saw Tommy, Steve and Jordan running back toward me, their faces were filled with terror.

Then they stopped a few feet away from the alley and started cowering and screaming like children. One of them—Jordan—actually wet himself.

When I looked past them, I understood why.

Seven giant dogs were slowly advancing towards them. They were a strange breed of dogs I’d ever seen, probably the largest.

They were jet black with eyes that glowed red in the streetlight. Their lips pulled back to reveal long fangs.

I was too scared and hurt to run. All I could do was watch in horrified fascination as the creatures circled the boys like predators who’d found easy prey.

Suddenly, the dogs leapt on the boys in a coordinated attack, cutting off their annoying screaming and shouting. I pressed myself against the alley, staring as the dogs tore at each of the boys.

Crunching their bones, tearing them apart. somehow, I enjoyed watching it, just like how I loved what they did to me moments ago.

Suddenly, a man whom I hadn’t seen at first, but who had been leaning in the shadows, pushed himself from the wall, startling me as he came into light. Almost instantly, our eyes met.

Then he started coming towards me.

Every part of my body was frozen with terror, but I couldn’t run. I wouldn’t go far in my state. I watched as the man reached me, then came to stand in front of me. His eyes took in the length of my body, eyes flaring with annoyance when he saw the blood trickling down my legs.

Then he smiled.

"Don’t be afraid, Delia. It’s Daddy."

***

Present Day

I came down from my rental car, pausing to take in the sun blazing hot in the sky.

I surveyed the crime scene with practised horror (I’d spent about an hour practising the expression in my bathroom mirror until I perfected it), letting my face contort into an expression of genuine revulsion.

I moved over to the scene, my boots crunching over broken glass and torn fabric. The street smelled like burned meat, and I could see fear emanating from the bodies of the agents taking pictures of the dead bodies.

I passed a new van; actually, several news vans had lined the block, but none dared cross the yellow tape.

I walked past the line, flashing my badge.

"Delia Pier, the FBI has given me clearance to come to scenes like this," I explained to the young police officer, who nodded and raised the yellow tape for me, which I ducked under.

I was taller than most women in Whispering Pine. Standing at 6 ft 1, I always turned heads wherever I went.

I wasn’t exactly what you’d call a beauty, but I was sexy as hell, and when I am not almost half naked, I do my best to wear clothes which flatter my lithe frame. Like now, I was draped in a mesh dress with nothing under it but a bikini outfit.

I lowered my head to hide the smile when I saw one of the police men openly gaping at me.

"Focus, Delia," I muttered to myself, closing my eyes for a brief second and taking in a deep breath.

Seven bodies lay scattered across the park clearing, torn apart with the same systematic brutality that had become my calling card.

The sight of my handiwork made my stomach lurch, not from disgust, but from excitement. Each kill brought me closer to my goal, closer to drawing the supernatural world into the open where I could finally claim what was rightfully mine.

"Oh God," I whispered, pressing my hand to my mouth and stumbling backwards. "This is... this is horrible."

Officer Rudy ran to me with concern written across his face. "Ma’am, are you alright? You shouldn’t be this close to the scene."

"I’m not alright," I said. "These killings are getting completely out of hand. How many more innocent people have to die before someone does something?"

I’d been cultivating my relationship with the local police for months, establishing myself as Dr. Delia Pier, a historian researching local folklore and urban legends. I’d published works on Werewolves, Lycans, Vampires, and Fae scattered throughout every academic library.

I attended every odd conference about aliens and never failed to point out that there were still creatures that lived closer to us than we could ever imagine that weren’t aliens.

I was the perfect neighbor. Everyone trusted me. I knew everyone to their birthdays and dirty secrets. I organised cookouts, never failed to turn up whenever anyone needed me.

So, I had the perfect cover for someone who needed access to crime scenes and investigative reports.

"I know this is hard to see," Officer Rudy said gently. "But we’re doing everything we can—"

"No," I interrupted, reaching into my bag with trembling hands. "I’m going to do the sensible thing as a good citizen of Whispering Pines."

I pulled out my tripod stand and set it up with the efficiency of someone who’d done this many times before. My phone was already recording as I angled it toward the carnage.

"This is Dr. Delia Pier, and I’m here at Pine Grove Park, where seven more victims have been found," I said into the camera, sounding angry. "In case you’re wondering why I just said seven more victims have been found, and if you guessed that this is probably not the first case, then you guessed right."

Officer Rudy came towards me. "Ma’am, you can’t broadcast from an active crime scene—"

"I am live on Ctok, Officer Rudy. I have tons of followers and right now, they’re watching you try to intimidate a tax-paying citizen from doing the right thing."

I scooped my tripod from the ground and walked away from Rudy, who kept following me.

"So, recently, there’s been a lot of killings by strange creatures. If you follow me or have read my work, you should be familiar with terms like werewolves, vampires, fae, and werefoxes. I’ve talked about these creatures for the longest time, and I believe these creatures, especially the ones from the werewolf world, are responsible for these killings."

"Dr. Delia, please," Rudy was jogging towards me now, and I broke into a run, maintaining a moderate pace. Not that he could outrun me, though.

"Fifty-four people are dead, I’ve spoken to the authorities, and they keep telling us they’re handling it, and yet seven more people are dead."

"Please, Delia," Rudy called out, panting behind me.

"The people have a right to know!" I said, turning the camera to include him in the frame. "This is our community, our safety at stake. If the police can’t protect us, then maybe it’s time for the right thing to be done."

Already, I could see thousands of people joining my live broadcast. There were at least a thousand shares, and the comments were pouring in. I loved how everything was going. That fear would draw exactly the kind of attention I needed.

Finally, I ended the live video.

As I packed up my equipment, I caught my reflection in my phone screen and had to suppress a smile. Sweet, innocent, a little bit crazy, Dr. Pier was playing her part perfectly.