The Snowglobe Conspiracy 014 Trudging Against The Wind
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The Snowglobe Conspiracy #015: Hunted/Haunted free porn video
To my immense and truly indescribable surprise, Ash’s formidable display of rage frightens away the darkness. I can see starlight. The air is warming up a bit. Ash shrieks in grander horror this time, as she finds Ash laid upon the ground, motionless. She sees him, and instinctively her voice explodes once again. She runs to him. Kneeling at his side, she bellows into the darkness once more, and lifts his head. I can see enough of his torso to witness his breath, and I am relieved by this at least minutely.
In an unfortunate turn, my relief is allowed life for but a moment. With overt hostility now, the wind roars back at her. It bellows down upon her with great intensity, then very casually, very carelessly, it changes direction. In an inexplicable bout of thermal shear or false vacuum, or something equally preposterous, it forms an updraft of inexplicable power considering its altitude and proximity from the ground. With a moderately disgusting ease, the disturbance outside snatches her off the concrete and holds her aloft. It’s only for a moment, but it feels much longer. Regardless of what I see, I have to imagine that for Ash it’s an eternity.
As the darkness stares at her – at all of us – I can almost see the eyes it stares with. For the slimmest sliver of a second, I feel its teeth, and that feeling becomes a thought that imprints on the onslaught of terror I am perceiving, so… there they are. Only for a moment. For some reason, this to me is the obvious step too far, and I know that despite the obscene absurdity of my surroundings, that this is just a trick of my frightened, fatigued mind.
With a final snarl, the suspension of the moment breaks, and Ash is flung higher and sent careening toward the center of the umbral mass. I know she is conscious, but she is as quiet as Ash had been when it took him. Perhaps it's shock. Or terror. Probably even a bit of true horror for her. She had to see him lying there like that up close.
“What the hell was that?”
I look to my left and respond in awe, “I have no fucking clue. I’ve honestly got zero insight to offer at this point.”
He pauses and considers me. “I don’t imagine that’s a comfortable position for either of us.”
“No,” I sigh, “I don’t imagine it is. What do we do about him?”
We are slowly being forced backward as the doors inevitably continue their trajectory. “We can’t get him now. It’s almost closed, but I can start it opening again. It’s just…”
“It’ll get in.”
“It might not…”
I stop him with my eyes and interrupt. “But it could.”
“Yeah…” He exposed the thought behind his tongue with the tone of the word.
Just as we are about to debate the ethics and relative value of each plan… and each life, we both shake our heads. “What do we do, then?”
“I don’t know,” I say as I ponder. As my thoughts circle the events of the night, they return to the same one over and over. Perhaps thinking it repeatedly has brought it on, but I feel the slightest tickle at the edge of my sinus. Right where it is breached by the nostril. A sharp, bright feeling. “But I have an idea.”
“I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“Probably not, no, but, that’s only because you lack faith.”
“I do?”
“I think so,” I tell him with an honesty I believe to be completely devoid of apology or brutality. “Don’t worry. I got this.”
“And you’re basing that on?”
“Confidence. Training. Ethical drive.”
“Not survival instinct though, right?”
“No. That doesn’t really stand a chance in the face of the other three.”
He rolls his eyes a little, but nods his head. “Yeah. Point taken. Do your thing, I guess.”
I force some brightness into my eyes, a smile onto my lips, and say, “I’ll be right back.” Before he says anything, I tell him, “Get ready to open this thing again.”
“I’m on it.” As he starts walking, he looks back and says, “If it means anything, you do have it.”
“Have what?”
“My faith,” his words are cheesy, but I find them to be unexpectedly comforting right now. Inspiring, maybe. As if I really even know what those concepts are in this perceptually deepening tarpit of a reality.
“Thanks.”
Deep breath. Blink. Eyes shut tight. Full on sneeze. My head flings itself forward so far that I should have hit it on the door. Instead, I’m right where I wanted to be. Right where I intended to be, anyway. More or less. Before I do anything, I am surprised to find that I am falling. Not far, but a meter and a half, two meters. Still, I made it. Absorbing the impact with the careful bending of my knees is no strain on my ability, though.
Ugh. Why are there so many fucking mysteries to solve? I should get my own reality show. Oh… There’s a curious thought. Doesn’t really fit the pattern, but if I find out that this is all for someone’s entertainment, I’m going to set them on fire.
Ash is stirring, but only slightly. I take long, efficient strides but I’m careful to avoid seeming like I have an urgent task or that I might be trying to help him – not that I have any idea what I’ll do when I try and pick him up. When I arrive at his side, I take him by the hands to try and wake him gently before I guide him to his feet. The moment I touch him, he wakes, and his whole body goes rigid. His ankles swing together as though they are being dragged by magnets and he is pulled away from me.
Engulfed in thickened shadow up to the shoulders, he looks at me with cold desperation and helpless panic. He knows. There isn’t anything else I can do, so when the unknown force pulls him taught against my grip, reflexively, I let go. It can’t do any good to go with him, but the amount of comfort I find in that is essentially immeasurable. The moment he slips away from me, his silence turns to sickening screams. The final echoes of his terror ring in my ears just as Ash’s do, and I am… broken. Only for a moment, but for it I am utterly devastated by my failure.
Dizzied by the shock of the experience, it takes me almost too long to start moving. I hear the whispering call of the violent air and I am pulled to it. I feel it in me… a tightening grasp on the beating of my heart, tethering me inescapably to the terrifying sound. Just in time, I dodge its embrace and skitter backward. My spine curves back as I stand in horror. It feels as though I’m being pushed away by the force of my enemy’s retreat… Or perhaps I’m being pulled backward by a force which means to protect me. Nothing about my movement feels as voluntary as it ostensibly is – as logically it must be.
The push and pull cease altogether now and I just fall. I land hard, and it hurts. It hurts quite a lot, actually. There’s nothing rusty at least, but the roof beneath me is scattered with pebbles and crumbs of broken concrete. I flop forward as a shard of despair stabs violently through the makeshift barrier which isolates it, and my whole body just sort of folds closed at the waist.
With bits of rocky conglomerate sticking to my skin in the imprints they have made, I stand gradually and fearfully. It’s regrouping. From out here it is almost cloud-like in behavior, but upon a cursory inspection it seems to defy a lot of the basic laws of fluid dynamics. It doesn’t mix with any other gasses – say, nitrogen dioxide – and it doesn’t seem to impact their movement, either… to say nothing of the fact that there’s no more vapor inside it than the salty mist out here. Between the pain and the urgency of my situation my training snaps back in and I summon my ability to focus once more.
The clutter in my mind is a distinct sort of chaos, and it’s that chaos I’m relying on right now. I don’t know enough about how it works, so all I can do is try and recreate the circumstances surrounding the previous… “jumps”, I guess? I really don’t know what to call them. “Teleportation” seems too grandiose.
Unfortunately, this time is a little different. My eyelids clamp shut and start to flutter in the same moment. The spheres beneath them roll here and there of their own volition, dancing a dance that everyone in the club is mistaking for a fit of some kind. We know it’s not, of course. I wouldn’t be thinking so clearly about it. Regardless, I think… I think I’m about to…
Hello, blindness. Salutations, familiar sense that I’ve been falling a little bit too long. What’s new is the continued unpredictability of my ocular muscles. All of my muscles, now. It’s so fucking cold, but this can’t just be a series of violent shivers. This just isn’t how shivering works. My teeth are chattering, but every part of me is flinching and spasming. This is not how I wanted this to go. I’m sure I look like I’m undergoing a particularly violent grand mal seizure, and I feel terrible for scaring him more than all of this already has.
Hmm… Feels like I’m horizontal now. Yes, I’m sure of it. I don’t know if this is the darkness of the cloud or something different. It feels different, but assumptions are the enemy of discovery. There’s no way it’s taking this long for me to hit the ground. Even though I’m somewhere else, I’m still here. More or less, anyway. For a slow moment, my mind loses touch with the nerves and senses of its vessel, fading deeper into nothing until I am brightly awakened by the thud of two arms catching me and cool electric lighting from beyond the interior door of the antechamber.
He can’t hold me for all that long after catching me so unexpectedly, so he sets me as gently and efficiently on my feet as he can. “Hey…”
“Hey,” he replies, “How are you doing that?”
“Still…” I drift away for a moment before finding my words again, “Not really… sure.”
“Well, it’s weird.”
I look at him outright quizzically, “That notwithstanding, I’m going to keep doing it anyway, if it keeps saving me, you, or us.”
“That’s not what I meant. Sorry. This just keeps getting stranger. All of this.” He is visibly exasperated.
“Yeah.”
We sit. I’m dizzy. The light flickers on for a moment, but only lingers a few seconds before fluttering away again. We’re sealed in. I shouldn’t think hermetically, but by the looks of that door I’d say that we’re locked down pretty tight. I don’t think it can get in here, but we certainly can’t go back out either.
He sighs fearfully and whispers, “I guess we’re waiting it out, then.”
“That or we try the other door.”
“Don’t you think we should stay as still and quiet as possible?”
“I do, but the nagging of foggy memories of a veritable cornucopia of life or death experiences, and piles of anecdotal evidence are all telling me that action is usually better than inaction.”
His voice is riddled with trepidation and lightly peppered with outright terror. “If you’re sure, I trust you.”
“Good then,” I say as I carefully move toward the interior door, “Let’s get this open.” For just a moment, as it is illuminated dimly by what light is on the other side, I become uncomfortably aware of my body.
He smiles. “Looks easier than the last one, at least.”
“It does. What are you smiling at?”
“You look nice in that light.”
A fragment of a smile appears on my lips before I control myself. “Find something long and metal in all this scrap we can use to pry it open. I’m going to try and get a better look at what’s inside.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
It’s not that I’m not gratified – and a little amused – that he has become visibly aroused after having said that to me, but I also don’t want there to be any ambiguity, so… “Don’t ever call me that again.” The killing stare behind my words pierces him like lightning.
“You bet.”
He proceeds toward the exterior door and shuffles about in search of something specific. I’m glad he has an idea of what he’s after. Rather triumphantly, he holds up the piece of metal we’d used to jam the front door open earlier. I can see in the limited silhouette of the exterior lamps that it was pinched closed and flat by the door as it was forced out. “How’s this?”
“Good thinking! Bring it here.”
As he walks, he asks, “Hey, what’s your rank?”
I’m not as genuinely befuddled as I sound, but I’m definitely curious. “Why do you ask?”
“I can just see myself wanting to know that at some point. Making conversation, really.”
“Lieutenant, Junior Grade Violet Imogene Mallory.”
“Sounds impressive when you say it that way, Lieutenant Mallory.”
“It’s not. Like, at all.”
“I know.”
“It’s a fancy way of saying that because I went to school longer, I have more authority than a lot of soldiers, sailors, and specialists who have been doing their jobs for twenty longer than I’ve been alive.”
“I know what it means,” he says, “Though that’s not necessarily the way I’d have said it to you.”
“Then you’re a better woman than I.” He looks at me quizzically for a moment. “Or… whatever.”
“I just meant that I like you enough to be polite, regardless of my feelings about armed forces.”
“Well, that’s an obtuse way of saying so. But, thank you… And, how do you feel about the military?”
“Badly. I’m only realizing that now though, and honestly, I don’t know why.”
“I’m not unsympathetic to that position.”
“What’s with attending the Naval Academy, then? You must have had to work hard to get accepted there.”
“I did. I wanted the degree I have and I did what I had to do to get it.”
He shrugs. “Alright. Makes sense, I guess.”
I divert the conversation. “Curious that my memory is working so much better than yours, but I’m glad to see that something is coming through.”
“Yeah. Me too. I was thinking it would help anchor me and make me feel a bit more like a person, but I’m not so sure it has. At least it’s progress, though.”
“It is.”
“Sigh… I think we’ve reached the point where normal conversation is not distracting me from our predicament.”
From behind a raised eyebrow, I ask, “Did you seriously just say the word ‘sigh’ out loud?”
“Sounded like it to me, yeah. Sometimes I worry my emotions aren’t clear so at some point I started saying either the emotion I’m feeling aloud, or a verb whose associated action is a clear indication of certain emotions.”
“You’re a dork.”
“So you’ve said.”
“It merits reiteration.”
“You’re just distracting me, aren’t you?”
“I really do think you’re a dork, but… Yes.”
With the spell of the momentary distraction broken, I take hold of the metal scrap and place the flattened edge at the exact right point in the gap between the doors in order to best stabilize our leverage. “Hold it there,” I say as I walk around him to take control of the far end. “Ready?”
From the middle of half a shrug, he replies, “Ready.”
With that, we step forward in essentially perfect unison, holding the bar forward with bent elbows and every muscle we have. The metal in our hands is not yet bending, but it’s started to buckle just a little. “Lighten up,” I tell her, “Yeah. Just like that.” We press firmly and consistently against our lever for a while longer. Minutes. A great strain is building in my arms, and I can see the same strain on his face as well. We can’t keep this up forever, but we keep it up as long as we can. Just when I see how badly he is fading, something happens. There’s a shift in the metal. “Steady…” I say as I reach down the length of the makeshift tool and hold it to the edge. In a frozen lunge, with raised arms akimbo, I tell him, “As hard as you can.” He nods. “Now!”
With all our might, we bend it to our will. A loud clang splits the quiet. It’s anyone’s guess what will really draw attention to us at this moment, but loud noises are rarely not a step in that direction. The door succumbs only to the force of four hands and two bodies driving our improvised crowbar. As the seal finally breaks, a small flash of light nearly blinds us, our arms lock in place as a sharp tingling takes hold of them, and a quiet zapping sound invades our ears. The very moment this occurs, a wall of bars begins noisily sliding into place at each arch in the corridor. Less than a moment later, the malformed steel pipe clatters melodically to the dusty concrete beneath us.
The shock itself was not bad, but it was more than a little surprising. Shaking our heads with slight bewilderment, we know that nothing has gone right. Another click comes from behind us. I know it can’t be the lock on the front door. It doesn’t open that way. When I look, it’s closed, yet I know that our perimeter has been breached. A breathy, exhausted sound cloaks us in its moist, silent, and wordless whispers.
“Do you feel that?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“It’s in our heads…” he says, then, “Right?”
“I think so,” I tell him, “But I don’t think that means it isn’t dangerous.”
“I think you’re right.”
“I hate this.”
“No kidding,” he says, hijacking my sarcastic catchphrase. Of course, I know it’s not mine. I just have that particular way of saying it…
“So… What now?” I ask, as the pseudo-gaseous cloud of lightlessness penetrates the room.
As the darkness drowns out what limited illumination there is, I am chilled once again. So is he. First he shivers, then I do, then we regain our composure. Getting used to this is an act of will, not autonomic. Whatever was out there, is in here now. Somehow it has seeped through solid walls of brick, steel, and given the sophistication of that first lock, probably lead.
The lights inside the facility go completely dark now, and with them, every trace of artificial illumination. All we have left is a rippling pane of moonlight, sneaking past the darkness and through the churning dust in the atmosphere. The cool light stretching through the thick glass projects thin lines of piercing rainbow even in the darkness. I’m certain they are short, but they are long to me. They are constantly stretching toward me – threatening laceration with their bizarre magic – yet their true size is never-changing.
Quite suddenly, behind us is a throaty growling. It is closer now, and I can hear it for what it is – a compound sound created by a series of wet, hollow clicks and what might be interpreted as precise glottal adjustments. This is it. There’s nowhere to run. We take each other’s hands, and step inside. He grabs the pipe and slides it through the door handles once we’re inside. I can feel the creature’s hostility. It’s a hunter on an island of simple prey, but by nature, it pursues the hardest challenges. Something sinister permeates the air. I truly cannot tell if we are being hunted, or haunted.
I think my stomach just shivered at that thought. Fuck… Pretty sure I’ve run out of relevant training. Unknown enemy, unknown numbers, unknown capabilities. Escape is the only objective, but all our efforts are efficiently blocked at every turn. Confrontation considered highly inadvisable. Panic is not helpful. Deep, slow breaths. That helps. The brave, confident, faithful, programmed part of me knows that whatever monsters are lurking in the shadows, we will emerge victorious. It’s comforting… for a moment. Unfortunately, the pragmatic, rational, intellectual part of me is pretty sure things are going to go the other way.
The fear and sorrow palpably fill the room. There’s really nothing left to do. Nothing that I see, anyway. The bravado instilled by my most recent education is losing strength, but it’s fighting hard. I want an enemy to fight. Something I can punch in the face. Or shoot. Not that I’ve seen the slightest indication of an intentionally designed weapon in the last few days. I hadn’t noticed before, but I think that difference is actually one of the unnoticed qualities of this place that I find disorienting.
That sound again. That snarling, unearthly clicking. It’s disgusting, and terrifying. My heart is in my throat… and my chest, shoulders and spine. He is about to collapse, I think. I don’t know what else to do, so I kiss him, and for a fleeting moment, we are both calm. That relief is nothing more than an arrhythmia in the nearly heart-stopping panic. In the absence of any ideas pertaining to survival, I turn to him and take a deep, strenuously quiet breath.
‘Fuck it. I think we’re about to die. Maybe. This is terrifying. What is happening? What is it? Why?’ My thoughts race. “Hey.” He looks at me. “Fuck me. I want to have you inside me. Right now.” I take a deep, silent breath and mouth the word, “Please. Before whatever’s about to happen happens.”
He kisses me, then quietly rolls me onto my back. He places his hand firmly over my mouth, prepared to block my nostrils as well if I make even the slightest sound. Part of me is hung up wondering why we would knowingly contribute to the possibility of being noticed, but neither one of us is able to resist the urge to be with each other. It’s hard to believe, but this fear is uniquely compelling. It makes me wet. My mind is crumbling in a swirling storm of deconstructing chaos, completely lost in the absence of logic.
As the beast continues hunting us, its jagged breaths grow louder and more frequent. It is as though it’s growing excited as it draws nearer to us. I look into the gem-like eyes above me and inhale sharply as he pushes gently inside. I am so wet that it barely hurts, despite the speed at which he has sunk into me. The frigid wind picks up again, but the warmth inside me cancels its impact on me. At least, it does in my mind. It’s hard to say where airflow is coming from, but this room is broken enough that I know it can reach us.
Sheathing himself in me almost makes him cry out in pleasure, so I gently place my hand over his mouth as well, then reach to his throat and grip firmly. It is slow at first… his cock plunging into me, then withdrawing smoothly. His breath tightens as he focuses on his desire, and he wants more from me.
I don’t know how long we fuck for. It never becomes aggressive, and it doesn’t hurt at all. It’s gentle, but urgent. Compelling, but careful. He’s starting to look like her again. To feel like her. Not exactly, but it’s starting again. It’s like the walls of reality have turned into a mere veil, and I can see a secret behind it. Their identities are blending together to form a truth which defeats facts.
This new person forming above me before my eyes is something to witness… Like seeing into a world of ghosts, and freezing. I’m watching her spirit mingle with his, and I see them meld into one. He visibly spasms when she enters him fully. Their hips buck and force their cock into me with unexpected vigor. Both of us cover the other’s nose instantly and instinctively. With great restraint, we limit our voices to a volume which is easily muffled by hands.
The grand magnitude of the terror we are all experiencing hangs above us like a pendulous blade. We don’t know what will happen. It cannot be true, but it is. She cannot be here with me, but she is… and so I am safe. She leans down and kisses me. I cannot believe the confluence of feelings being tossed around right now, and I truly don’t understand what’s happening. Maybe he’ll cum in me, the monster will find us, and I’ll just wake up next to her. That does still seem the most likely outcome, even with some of the insanity here starting to make an iota of sense.
I’m gasping. My diaphragm is working well beyond capacity. I’m starting to make more sound. My vocal cords are caught in the depths of my breath. I try to swallow the sound, but it’s no good. He presses his hand harder against me, but he doesn’t stop. It isn’t enough, so he claps his other hand over it, but he’s still fucking me. Breath is running out. Time is short. I’m so close. My eyes widen and he knows that I’m close. I think he knows that I see her again. That I feel her inside me as much as him. He and I only met yesterday, but I’m completely in love with the person atop me. Powerfully, completely, utterly devoted.
Through parted fingers, he allows me enough air to remain conscious, but replaces them to stifle my voice. Within another few moments, I am able to control my body once more, and he allows me to breathe freely. There’s no denying that it’s strange, but it’s also immensely comforting. To feel her presence but also know that she is safe from all of… this. Between our everlasting love and the companionship of a new friend, I couldn’t be better prepared for this moment, even if this isn’t the ending I’d have written.
Our gaze locks as we grow synchronously closer to the end. Tears stream silently down our faces. Terror can be transduced into passion, and we are rapidly becoming experts, but as the sounds of the hunter become louder again, I am beginning to panic. My heart goes from a steady, adrenaline-quickened pace to an aggressive thumping, steadily accelerating beat. It is red around the edges of my vision.
Brightening eyes ask me if he can finish in me, and I nod subtly. My blood-rimmed sight is preparing to dim now. I am perfectly quiet for just long enough that he can take his hand off of my mouth and replace it with his lips. Now every part of us is interlocked and entwined. We are each other’s whole world in this moment. Impending events are meaningless, exactly as we hoped they would be.
“I love you,” I tell her.
He smiles and speaks on her behalf. “She loves you too. Very much.”
The heat and speed of the tears increase. We are almost finished. This feels incredible, and I love her so much, and… I am completely fucking terrified. Our tongues slide magnificently against one another, his cock slides beautifully into me and out again. In moments, this passion brings us to our close. The powerful rod within me expands one last time. The shaft hardens, and the tip swells. I know this is it. The end.
I am so close, and I must time this right… Here we are. This is it. There is one more swelling, and then his cock flinches. The first pulse of hot cum splashes into me, mostly running down the inside of me and coating the organ it erupted from. They are both with me in an endless, passionate kiss. Another throbbing, forceful pulse of cum. The heat fills the inside of me, clothing the walls of me in sticky white. Now a third, and a fourth. His body is silently thrashing at me, blasting the pure liquid into me with unbridled need and unadulterated desire.
His cock pierces me a dozen more times or so. Each thrust is thoughtful enough to be quiet, but automatic nonetheless. Knowing this is it, I finally let go and allow the instinct in me to take hold of my muscles, and to wrap them even more tightly around him. From the way our kiss changes, I know that the force I’m applying to him feels amazing. I place my hand on the back of his head and pull him closer, then break our kiss long enough to say, “I love you.”
“You are so beautiful. I love you too.” This is the first time that she speaks to me directly in his voice. If those are the last words in my ears…
My orgasm rises from its origin and fills my entire torso, then spreads through my limbs, into my toes and fingers all the way to the tips. Finally, it travels the final centimeters of spine into my neck, sets my scalp alight with bright tingling, and induces in me the fiery throes of highest passion. Every muscle… Everything in me seizes in a fit of sensory delight. Everything outside of me is fading. Darkness is beginning to fall. The last thing I feel is the hot rush of his cum into me just before he passes out and falls into my embrace. For a moment, I can hear that sinister clicking, but when the last bits of light fade, all I hear is her voice, and all I see is her face.
Valentina
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