1 comments/ 12100 views/ 11 favorites One Haunted Night By: empty_coffee_cup Author's note: This was originally intended for Halloween... 2012. It's a little late but I hope you'll still enjoy it. Comments and feedback would be greatly appreciated, and will probably make me finish off some more of this stack of unfinished stories I'm sitting on. - - - It was when the road was empty like this that most accidents occurred. The thought, that suddenly rang in her head like an irritating, public service jingle, made her lift her foot off the accelerator sharply. Her high-beams picked out the tangled, clutching branches of the trees crowding the country road a little clearer, and she realised that she probably had been driving a little too fast. It was the car's fault of course. This big, macho penis extension that was her brother's pride and joy seemed to beg to be raced as soon as the key was turned in the ignition. And that wasn't her at all! What the hell did she care about being the first away from the light? Christ she couldn't wait for her cute little Honda to get back from the shop, and for this goddamn Christine car to go back under the sheet in the garage. Ted was hardly overjoyed about the whole thing either, but dearest mother, exerting her maternal authority even now that they had both moved out and ostensibly started their own lives for real, had frowned (over the phone) and that was that. "Your sister can't survive down here without a car, while you're hopping on your New York City Public Transport System to get from the bar to class and back again..." He'd made hollow threats; she'd promised - not a speck of paint displaced from its gleaming red body. That had seemed a lot easier when she wasn't driving through a forest in the middle of the night in the pitch-black in a ridiculous pirate costume to get to some terrible Halloween party that her lunatic friend had made her promise to attend. Something small pinged off a wing-mirror, making her physically flinch. She swore under her breath. If Carrie wasn't already there, and if Carrie wasn't right about Lou being there tonight... Oh God, if she had to chat and hang out with those idiots from her company and all their... idiot friends... She had to remind herself to slow down again. And it was as she slowed a little, her eyes scanning the canopy (because the trees really were forming a roof over the road now, making her feel strangely like a bullet making its way down the barrel of a long, twisting gun), that she saw the girl by the side of the road. Dressed all in white, her black hair long and messy, partially covering her face, she picked up the headlights like a safety jacket, like a road-sign. She glowed, and Polly winced, fumbling to bring down the beams and not blind the poor girl. She needed a lift, and Polly needed some distraction to keep her from going crazy. It was only as she pulled to a stop in the middle of the narrow road that she realised the girl hadn't flagged her down at all. She had just been standing there, in her retro white dress and gleaming white pumps, and Polly had just felt... that she ought to stop for her. The road had narrowed to the width of a single car now - still surfaced, but that was the only thing lifting it above 'dirt track' at this point. The trees walled them in, sealed them in from above too. The phrase 'lost in the forest' shimmered in her consciousness and she felt cold needles prickling the back of her neck as she leaned over to wind down the passenger window. She couldn't be lost, she reassured herself, there had been no other turnings to take since she left civilization. The girl hadn't moved, and only when Polly opened her mouth to speak did she turn to face the car. She turned but... Polly didn't really see her turn. Now she was facing her, now she was at the window, leaning down, her face blank, unreadable, beautiful, exactly as Polly said: "Hey can I give you a..." "Wait a second," the girl interrupted, her voice melodic and hollow, "You're a girl." And suddenly Polly felt as though someone had just snapped their fingers and she was waking up. She hadn't even noticed she had been asleep! She couldn't have been asl- "I said - you're a girl." The girl had a quick, arch intonation that made Polly think of old black and white movies. She urged her tongue to life, for some reason eager not to aggravate this strange pale girl. "Y-yes? Yes I am..." The girl was leaning on the car door now, that strange, expressionless face registering what seemed to be... scepticism? Disappointment? "What's with the moustache honey? Who you try'na fool, hey?" "I'm not...?" Polly stammered, touched the fake, pasted on moustache that had come with the baggy white shirt, the headscarf, the big pants and the faux-leather jerkin of the costume. The girl raised an eyebrow. "You a dyke hey, honey?" "No! What the hell is..." Polly shook her head, violently, trying to reclaim her senses "I just thought you might need a lift to the party! Maybe you don't!" "Party, huh?" Wait, hadn't the girl's hair been long, messy and covering her face? Now it was perfectly neat, coiled and teased in the fashion of a 1930s film star. She was smoking too, but Polly hadn't seen her produce a cigarette, let alone light it. "I coulda sworn you were a fella," she mused, looking ruefully back in the direction Polly had come from. "I saw this beast of an automobile, I squinted and saw a moustache and I thought, 'Oh, Mol, this is the one.'" "Wait," Polly was getting more and more irritated with this dizzying forest waif, "were you just trying to pick up a guy?" "Heh," the girl, Mol, looked down at her with a strange not-quite-smile, "something like that." "Look, if you don't want a ride then..." Polly looked away, and without that luminous porcelain skin, without that shining spotless dress the forest track in front of her looked a whole lot darker and scarier. "No, no wait!" The girl chuckled, and it sounded old, not like a girl at all, but like a woman. "A party, you said? At the old Mason place?" "Well, it's Halloween, isn't it?" "Every year." The smile in Mol's voice was so clear and so devilish that Polly had to glance across. The other girl was already in the passenger seat, long, perfectly white legs crossed, her stiff looking dress riding up her thighs, her cigarette hand hanging coolly out of the window. Polly almost flung her door open and jumped out. She stifled her shock with both hands, biting down on the scream before it escaped. "Let's go to a party." Mol grinned, her teeth white as the moon. - - - A little way further along the track, just as she remembered from the few times she'd driven up to the Mason place with her friends in high school, the forest suddenly cleared and she was driving along a mountain trail, a cliff wall on her left and flimsy looking barrier on her right separating her from a long, long drop down a terrifying cliff face. People died here, driving too fast, too drunk, every year. She slowed down a little more. At least there were passing points cut into the cliff here. "So, what..." she started, interrupting her hitch-hiker gazing dreamily out of the window at the precipitous drop, "I didn't see a car. Do you live out here or something?" "Not 'live' exactly," again, that older than her years laugh. A laugh that spoke of experience and worldliness, the kind of thing that Polly would never achieve if she didn't get out of her hometown soon. "Let's say: I have a strong attachment to the place." "But what were you doing out here if you weren't going to the party?" Molly kept the questions up, not just because the girl made her nervous, and her too-cool way of smoking with the window open was chilling the air in the car, but because this dangerous route put her on edge too. "Jeez, honey. You're from around here," there was no hint of a question in her intonation. "Can'tcha guess? Can'tcha root around in that pretty head of yours and work things out a little?" "I have no idea..." Polly started, tapping the steering wheel with the third finger of each hand as she drove and biting her lip. This girl was maddening. Something popped into her mind. "Is this about drugs?" Suddenly it made sense - almost. She had heard that some people used the sturdy old abandoned mountain mansion to do drug deals and... all sorts of things. This 'Mol' girl had been waiting for a drug dealer! "Ha! You-" Mol pointed with her cigarette, it was in her left hand then suddenly back in her right, "are a riot, baby. No it's not about drugs." "Well then what..." "Jeez Louise!" Mol finally straightened up a little in the deep, leather passenger seat. "A strange, beautiful, slip of a girl all alone in the dark forest. A young, muscular - possibly moustachioed - stud in the car his daddy bought him for graduation. He can't believe his luck, he wants to show off his ride, she says she needs a ride back to her friends up the hill, he's driving too fast..." Polly's throat was dry. The list of events, the 'story' was... what was this? "...there's no way the barrier can possible prevent that much horsepower from going over the edge of the cliff, from ending in a beautiful fiery rose a coupla hundred feet later." "You... you..." The window was closed but the car was still freezing cold. She had been smoking this whole time, but no smoke was coming from the cigarette, even as it burned down to nothing. Polly's knuckles were white. She wanted to swallow but couldn't. "These urban legend deals are meant to last a few years more than this! What do you kids spook each other out with these days, honey?" She was dizzy, her heart was pounding, she had to stop... With a screech the car jolted to a stop in the middle of the treacherous mountain road. There was something next to her in the car, and it wasn't a girl, and it was making everything cold, and she needed to get out and get away from it. "Who are you?" "I'm Molly Mason, honey. Seventy something years ago my darling beau bashed my brains in with a metal bar and tossed my body off of this cliff. I've been taking boys down to lie with me ever since." "You're a ghost." The tremors started in her hands, glued to the wheel and moved up her arms until she was shaking in her seat. There was a breath on her neck, so cold she had to grit her teeth to keep from yelping. "I don't know, honey," Mol crooned in her perfect, empty murmur, "why don't you take a look, see what you think?" Polly didn't want to look, didn't really want to turn her head at all, but found she couldn't resist the invitation. And the thing in the seat next to her crept into her field of vision. And when her brain finally processed what it was she was seeing - something that was dead and smashed and broken and bloody, that was perfect and twisted inside in a way that made her ears ring - she screamed. And then, mercifully, she passed out. - - - "Oh my God Pol, don't you think you've had enough?" Polly looked down at the glass on the counter. A squat, square tumbler that was rapidly filling up with what looked like... bourbon perhaps? She looked across calmly at the bottle in her hand - the bottle that was filling the glass. Yes, good old Jackie D. Her eyes moved back down to the glass and she dreamily watched the liquor start to spill over its thick lip. "What has gotten into you?" Carrie snatched the bottle away from her, shunting her not all too gently aside as she grabbed a cloth and started sopping up the spilt alcohol. Polly almost lost her balance, her head spinning as she took two big steps sideways. Lucky the dirty old kitchen was so big. Even though there were other people scattered around the place she didn't come close to bumping into them. She put her hands on her knees and was about to start giggling when she remembered the car. The thing that wasn't a girl in the car. She was at the party? She was at the party with Carrie and she had no idea how she had gotten there. The laugh shrivelled and froze in her throat and the thoughts started coming thick and fast. She was drunk - really, really drunk and... how? She would never have drunk this much around so many strangers! Oh God, had Lou seen her like this? Did she just black-out and come here on - on autopilot? Was that even possible? Was she schizophrenic? Was there an evil Polly inside her too? Or... As soon as the thought crossed her mind she felt things shifting inside her like two sheets of silk rubbing against each other. The girl she had picked up - the ghost. Surely that would be the craziest thing of all, but somehow she felt... "Oh relax, honey," the sweet, empty voice from before whispered, as if breathing into both ears at once, "just relax, we've been having a great time." "M-Mol?" "In fact why don't you just relax, dream on, and let me keep driving this cute little body of yours around? I can drive a lot better than you can, drunk I mean. It's been so long since I tasted a good, strong liquor, I'm afraid I may have... over-indulged whilst you were checked-out. Doesn't really affect me, sadly. You must be feeling pretty woozy though." "I just don't recognise you tonight, Pol!" Carrie's hand was on her back, the drink nowhere to be seen, helping her to stand up straight. "I thought," her blonde friend hissed, "that you were going to be Miss Ice Queen tonight? That Lou wouldn't be able to resist?" "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Polly felt drunk and detached, like she was herself, and not herself - an observer judging her in some ghostly competition. "I was... I don't know what happened, I... What did I do?" "What do you mean, what did you do? You just poured Jack D all over the kitchen! Or do you mean showing up with this phoney tough-girl voice, hitting on guys and knocking back shots like they were going outta fashion?" "Honey, I'll show you phon-" The words just burst from Polly's lips, unbidden, unthought. Her eyes went wide and she clamped both hands over her lips, stifling, but not silencing the invectives she was, somehow, spitting at her friend. "Oh my God, are you going to throw up now?" Carrie rolled her eyes and span Polly around, guiding her to one of the many doors leading off the cavernous, run-down kitchen. It was a small bathroom she saw, and suddenly she felt like being away from people was the best thing she could do right now. The curses and insults on her tongue suddenly stopped, and while she could feel this... urge buzzing around in her head, threatening to explode out of her at any moment, she thought, maybe, she could speak for herself again now. "Ok, ok," she gasped, recovering her tongue for her own use. "I'll be ok on my own." She gingerly pushed Carrie's hand off her shoulder, wincing as she realised they were sticky from spilt spirits. She watched as her fingers wiggled and rubbed against each other, feeling the tacky, clinging residue. Then she froze, realising that she hadn't told them to do that. "You sure?" Carrie's voice softened a little, and Polly had to focus, to take control and answer in as normal a voice as possible. "I'm sorry Carrie, for whatever I did..." supporting herself on the doorframe she looked back, "But can you... hang around out here for, just a minute?" "Ok," her friend chewed her lip sceptically, "Just... shout if you need me or whatever. And I'll start banging if you're not out in five. So lucky we didn't run into Lou and his buddies yet." Polly nodded, relieved that she hadn't made a fool of herself over the cool, wolfish guy she'd been mooning over for months, and slumped backwards into the bathroom. Pulling the door shut after her, she locked it, then unlocked it. Frowning, she locked it again. "See, sweetie? Just giving you an idea of the... ballpark we're pitching in here." The sibilant whisper again, as if Mol was leaning down on either side of her, lips brushing her small earlobes. It wasn't a voice in her head, it was as if she were actually hearing the girl. No, not a girl, a thing. "What... what are you doing? Are you in me?" "Oh, honey! I knew you were smarter than you made out earlier!" The invisible lips were smiling, the whisper cutting through the raucous noises of the party that she was only now beginning to tune into. "Can't just park your car in the middle of a mountain road now, can you? When you passed out behind the wheel I... ah, took the liberty of slipping behind your wheel, as it were, and driving you and your big ol' beast of an automobile the rest of the way to the party. You should be thanking me." "You- you can do that?" Polly's heart was pounding, every inch of her skin prickling with the dizzying vertigo of the unknown. What... what had happened? What had Mol made her do? What could she make her do? She was talking, out loud to the... the ghost and didn't know if she should be whispering or screaming. "Oh, of course honey. How d'you think I get all those pretty boys to drive their cars off-of that cliff? Now, when I got all the way up here and you still weren't showing any signs of perking up, I... well I have to admit I may have indulged a little. But then," Mol's voice feigned good intentions in the most flesh-crawling way imaginable, "it wouldn't have exactly been safe to leave you sleeping in an auto with all these... virile stallions pulling up in their vans and cars all around you. Now, would it? Huh, honey?" Polly was leaning, back to the wall, still right next to the door. Head spinning, she urged her self to straighten up, to take the three, impossibly tricky steps over to the washbasin. She reached it and clung on for dear life, bringing her eyes to bear on the thick, cracked mirror above it. Of course the girl looking back at her wasn't her. It was the high-contrast perfection of Mol. "Just think of me as your designated driver for the nighy, Polly honey." The reflection was smoking, a long, old-fashioned cigarette that got smaller but never gave off any smoke. "In your current state, if I were to, ah, vacate the premises, you'd be an even worse mess than you are now, darling. But Molly Mason is never impaired," the ghost in the mirror did a the faintest curtsey, lifting the one side of her dress an inch but still smoking with the other hand. "If you just give me the keys for the night we can be the queen of this party. Just leave everything to me and you won't so much as put a foot wrong. And this dreamboat Lou you're all starry-eyed about? With me running things? Honey, he's as good as yours. And then tomorrow... well, it's a little embarrassing to admit it but, I'm actually kinda stuck here on this mountain, honey. It's part of the deal I got going on." The room was rotating in one direction while the sink, the mirror and Polly seemed to be going the other way. She felt something fade, some part of her come back and with it she suddenly realised she was going to throw up. Then Molly was back in her and the urge to vomit faded, the fairground room slowed, at least a little. "Y'see? C'mon, for all I know I'm going to spend eternity up on this stinkin' mountain, honey. There's no guidebook for ghosts! I don't know if Gabriel is gonna swoop down here after I've done a couple hundred years and say - 'You did your time sister, heaven awaits!'" In the mirror, Mol grinned, and to Polly the grin seemed both perfect and stretched far, far too wide. "Then again, I killed a lot of people since I passed. Probably be someone from the other place. Anyway, my point is, let's you and me have fun. I get one more night in the flesh and you get to let go and just enjoy yourself like you never have before. And I promise your man will be putty in your hands." The cigarette between Mol's fingers was suddenly freshly lit again. The room lurched. Polly gripped the basin, white-knuckled, and hissed through gritted teeth. "You got me drunk, so that when I woke up I wouldn't be able to stop you. You were... hitting on guys?" One Haunted Night "Well, technically you were, honey." "What the hell are you going to do with... with my body?" In the mirror Mol pursed her lips in disappointment. "I really don't want to fight about this, sweetie." "Fight?" But suddenly Polly's head was ringing, deafening buzzing chimes that obliterated all sense, all reason. She wanted to scream, but she had a feeling, like someone very strong was holding her hands by her sides. But it wasn't her hands, it was her, she was being held in place and kept from moving and with these bells, these infinite bells she just couldn't think of how to get out of this, how to get her arms out of whatever they were stuck in and.... Polly closed her eyes. - - - "... feeling so much better, thanks Carrie darling. You're one in a million." For a moment the fact that the nausea and those hellish chimes were fading really did make Polly feel so much better. Then she realised that she was listening to her own voice and that she was walking back from the bathroom, with Carrie, to the kitchen. Her steps were smooth and steady and there was a swing to her hips that... that she never normally put so much into. Mol was in total control. "You're acting so weird tonight, Pol. Are you sure you're ok?" "I wanted a change, baby, you know how you get! When everything's boring and you just wanna stir things up a bit..." It was surreal, looking at her hands, watching herself fix a drink next to her friend (nothing stronger than a club soda this time), listening to her own voice hold forth, lively and vivacious. - Are we back, honey? Mol's whisper - not Mol's words in her voice, but the ghost's voice in her ear. Inside her this time. - Do you see what I mean? I want us to do this together, it makes everything so much easier. But I can always just keep you locked up in that little box of noise and sickness and have my way anyway. Polly tried to form words in her mind this time, trying to address Mol without speaking out loud. Not that she was sure she could speak out loud. - Are you going to make me... hurt myself? Cut myself? - Gadzooks, baby! Of course not! I am entirely on the up and up when I say that all I want to do is have some fun. Carrie was smiling. Mol was clearly getting a little more comfortable and making things sound a little more natural through Polly's mouth, she realised. God, this was horrible. To be trapped like this in your own body, watching your hands move, feeling your legs walk. Only focussing on what someone else wants to look at! But what choice did she have? When Mol had talked about fighting... well the pain and sickness she had felt had been the closest she'd ever been to... the other place, as Mol had put it. - Ok. For now. - Oh, sweetie. This is going to be a blast. - - - She'd seen a couple of her co-workers, people who she didn't like all that much but didn't really have a problem with, and she'd told Mol everything she needed to know to schmooze them and probably leave them with an entirely different impression of her than they had had before. "Polly! You're so different outside of work!" one girl had said, "It's like you're a different person." "Maybe I am a different person!" Mol had cackled through Polly's lips. "In fact, why don'tcha call me Mol for the night, instead of Pol?" People had burst out laughing. "You're unbelievable!" "I'm finding it hard to believe myself," Mol answered, "Now which of these fellas has the wherewithal to furnish this young lady with a coffin nail?" Carrie had looked over at her, eyebrows shooting up. She kept giving Pol/Mol odd looks, but she seemed to accept that this was just Polly letting her hair down, getting drunk and playing silly for the night. "You're smoking again?" - Please don't, Polly said in her mind, I quit last year, I don't want to relapse into... - Relax, sugar, it won't work like that, came Mol's soft whisper in her head. But as soon as the smoke had curled into her lungs Polly knew it had been a mistake. She felt every drag, and it felt so good to be smoking again. She knew she'd have trouble not just keeping on with the old habit tomorrow. "Real smoke in real lungs." Mol had said out loud, gazing in satisfaction at the glowing tip of her cigarette. "Even makes up for how weak this is." "What are you talking about?" Carrie frowned at her as they made their way away from the office bores. "Nevermind, sweetie. Now, let's go find some boys. And let's go find this Lou fella." "You are on a different plane tonight, girl." "Sweetie, I'm on every plane." - - - Polly was still dressed up in her baggy, stupid pirate outfit, while Carrie had come as some kind of glittery, sexy witch. But with every group of guys they landed in, despite the legs and the fishnets that made Carrie the first one they looked at, it was always Mol that ended up getting all the attention. Mol was... she was just sexy, Polly realised. She could make almost anything sound dirty, and she could sound like she was promising everything, while making clear that she wasn't promising anything at all. The kind of maddening tease that all the guys loved, Mol/Pol really was becoming the queen of the party. She lost the fake mustache and the bandana, both of them going to guys who looked like ex-college football players in exchange for a kiss on the cheek. She still had the eyepatch that had come with the costume, and she was delighting in all sorts of stupid flirty behaviour with it. "No, no baby. You've gotta flex them one at a time, I can only see one at a time with this eyepatch." "Yeah, it's a sad story, sweetie. I was cleaning the captains mast and it was hard as oak when it slipped and..." Carrie was getting drunker and flirtier too, like Polly knew she would. Normally it was Cassie that was the man-eater. Tonight, now that she was drunk, she was trying to catch up with Molly. Polly wanted to warn her not to bother trying. And in her weird anaesthetised bubble she couldn't tell if she was happy or not that they hadn't run into Lou yet. "No, you see I've got no distance perception, darling. That's why I need YOU to get me another drink." Lou was always so cool, always a little detached and above everything that was going on around him. But not in an arrogant way! Just in a... a cool way. A fun way. Carrie used to work with him and Polly had met him a bunch of times but never had the time or the nerve to put any kind of a move on him. Tonight she had no doubt at all that "Polly" would have the nerve to make a play for him, it was just... not her that would be winning him. And considering how wild Mol was getting in her body she was nervous as to what would happen if they did run into him. Maybe he hadn't come tonight. This whole time Molly had been drinking. Not enough to be really dangerous to Polly, but enough to keep her head buzzing and to stop her thinking too clearly. Even so, she knew what was happening and she was nervous about meeting Lou, and possibly even more nervous about what Mol would want to do if they didn't find him. Maybe nothing. The ghost seemed to be happy just flirting and teasing and controlling the muscular dopes and sensitive geeks that littered the party. And, after all, she killed guys. She hated guys. - - - It was maybe one a.m. when, after leaving another little clique of guys shooting lustful looks after them, the three girls, Carrie, Polly and Molly, had tripped giggling through the doorway of a weird little mezzanine drawing room, halfway up the main staircase. And there he was. Lou, Greg and was it Fred? Freddie? The three friends were chatting with a few other people she didn't know around a low table under a tattered old Chinese lantern. The whole house was like this. Ten years or more of people just bringing whatever old furniture they had up here to deck out the town's informal party venue. The walls looked black, the marble fireplace looked dull and wooden. - Lou. She didn't think to stop the thought, and even after she thought it she didn't know if she should have. - Show time! Mol giggled in her ear, and, locked up inside herself, Polly shivered as best she could without a body. "There he is," Mol/Pol whispered to Carrie. "I told you he'd be here." Carrie smiled back slyly. "Carrie and Polly!" Freddie, the big guy, had stood up and had his hand up as if they needed help spotting them in this tiny little chamber. There was one low table and a few armchairs that another group was in, playing a drinking game. And Freddie was really big - when he stood up the whole place suddenly seemed almost claustrophobically small. "Hey!" Lou shot her a grin. He shot HER a grin - her first, and then Carrie. She knew there was something there! Not that she'd be able to work out what it was on her own that night. "Guys!" Carrie laughed as people shuffled along dusty old sofas and made room for them to join the group. "We were looking for you." "Why? Polly was looking for some booty to plunder?" Freddie sat down too, shooting a finger-gun at Polly. "Oh I'm not sure she's Polly tonight!" Carrie giggled, "She's got some whole thing going on... Mol, is it?" With her friends now, Carrie felt like she could tease a little. Polly ached with frustration at how close she was to the truth. "Oh don't be silly, sweetie. It's Halloween, everyone gets to have fun on Halloween. And you can call me whatever you like." Mol addressed the entire table, but her eyes were locked on Lou. And he was looking right back at her, just how she'd always wanted him to. Was this how easy it would've been without this brassy ghost pulling the strings? There were bottles on the table, just like there were bottles everywhere here, and so drinks were poured and drunk and poured and drunk and people moved around and the people she didn't know were introduced, but Polly's consciousness was so focussed on Lou that she didn't take in any of their names at all. And through it all Molly became the life and soul of the gathering - which was at least a little funny considering she had no life of her own. Her comments were always timed perfectly and always on the verge of being scandalous without actually falling over the line into crassness. People whooped and then more liquor was poured, and Polly wondered if this would go on until morning. - - - But after what could have been hours, but could just as well have been ten minutes, something changed around the table. The big group conversation splintered, and for a moment Polly, dazed and doped by Mol, couldn't keep track. But she saw Carrie around the other side of the table, and watched as the hand of one of their new male acquaintances slid up her thigh and under her dress. She saw another couple leaving the table. And then she realised she was sitting between Lou and Greg, squeezed in between them, and Lou's arm was draped along the couch behind her. "So where did you park the ship?" Lou was holding a bottle, waiting to top up her drink. But Mol was still holding her full glass, looking up at him slyly. - Look at this naughty boy - Pol heard her inside - Trying to fill your glass and get you drunk - Get you drunk. - Get us drunk "Drop anchor," Greg, tousle-haired and sardonic was chiming in from her other side. "If you're going to start hassling her with pirate lines man at least sketch out some good ones first." Mol/Pol glanced over at the leaner Greg, and Pol noticed her gaze lingering on his cheekbones and his jaw. - I think I like this one more - Mol confided inside their shared mind - He's smarter. But you know your taste I suppose. - We're not choosing here! "Your eye-patch is flipped up," Lou noted. "Makes me think maybe you don't need it at all." "Well, see" Mol put her glass on the table, "My problem is that if I cover the left eye I can't see one gorgeous man, and if I cover the right eye I can't see the other gorgeous man." She put a hand on each of their legs, not too forward or slutty, but there. "So, I decided to stop pretending to be one eyed." - What are you doing? The guys shifted under her hands. She felt them move a little, felt the heat of them through their jeans, but she couldn't move her hands an inch. Mol ignored her. "What are you guys here as anyway? Don't you have any Halloween spirit?" "I'm Batman." Freddie was leaning over toward them from the other side of the table. There weren't many people left in the group now, and Carrie was... well she was straddling her new friend in his chair, her long blonde hair obscuring both of their faces. Freddie was wearing a batman t-shirt, hardly enough to qualify as a costume. Mol wrinkled her nose. "C'mon Polly," Lou grinned, "it's just a party really. It's like you two and half a dozen others are the only people in costume." Now that she thought of it, Polly realised that barely anyone else was in costume. Wow, if she hadn't been sedated with booze and psychically restrained by a murderous ghost that had taken over her body she would have been kind of embarrassed. "Actually," Mol was moving her hands, slowly, slowly pulling them up the thighs to either side of her. Polly felt the tension in the two men shoot through her fingers like an electric shock. "I'm not really a pirate." "What are you then?" Lou's hand was slipping off the back of the sofa down onto her shoulder. Polly's heart was hammering but Mol was touching Greg too, and even as Polly tried to form a thought she shot a molten glance at Freddie across the table. - What are you doing? This is... Lou's the one! Don't make him think I some kind of... Suddenly a single chime of those hellish bells rang in her head again and she flinched. - Hush now, we're just having fun. And we are going to have the most wonderful fun... "If only there were somewhere private I could show you gentlemen..." - Wait! WAIT! Again the chime. It made Polly's very consciousness ache. "There are so many rooms in this place," Greg was looking at her, surprise and interest all over his face. "Up on the third floor there's this whole hallway where the keys are in the doors..." "How would you know?" grinned Freddie. "Like you've ever taken anyone upstairs here." "Well there's a first time for everything," Mol purred, and suddenly she was standing. She put her hand out for Greg (why Greg? Why not Lou first? Oh...!) who took it with a look of amazement. - Stop this! Wait! Lou was looking up at her, looking at her hand in Greg's and looking almost confused and hurt at the assumed rejection. Then Mol gave him the kind of sultry look that she'd been tongue-tying men with all night and asked: "What are you waiting for?" She turned her eyes to Freddie who was just looking on, mouth agape. "You too big guy." - What are you doing?! - Exactly what I said I was going to do, darling. We're going to have some fun. Carrie was too busy matching lips with her guy, she didn't notice them leave the room, and the rest of their group had long since scattered. No one paid the petite girl and three tall guys much attention at all as they slipped out of the tiny drawing room. "Now," Mol linked arms with Lou and Greg and made sure Freddie was following along, "Where can we lock ourselves away for a while? - - - Greg turned the key in the door and then it was just Mol and Polly and the three guys she was locked in with. Polly didn't know whether she could call her heart her own, and whether it was pounding from her fear and frustration or Molly's excitement - but whatever the situation it was hammering like hell. Her movements were steady though - soft, slow and seductive. There was a bed (that Polly was instantly, acutely aware of), a couple of chairs and a low, broken down sofa. Lou sat casually, his composure recovered, on one of the chairs. Greg leaned against the wrought iron foot of the bed. Freddie stood awkwardly for a moment before he slumped down into the sofa, making it seem even smaller and lower than it was. Polly... no Molly stepped right into the middle of them and started lifting up the cheap loose pirate smock she'd been wearing. She bit her lip, looking so naughty, so cheeky. She glanced up at Lou. "You boys ok with this?" - Please stop. "Are you ok?" Lou stood back up and took a step toward her. His hand touched his cheek. For a moment Polly thought he was going to take her out of this - not let her do this. "You had a lot to drink, are you ok to..." "Oh I want this more than anything in the world," growled Mol, and Polly's heart sank as Lou grinned and sat back down. Polly was fighting, fighting even though she didn't know how to, but Molly was in her element. She wanted to perform; she wanted to do everything a real, hard, physical body could do. And there was nothing Polly could do to stop her. The smock and jerkin went flying, leaving her coyly covering her small breasts and the cute little pink lace bra she'd worn. Then she freed her hair from where it had been pinned and held in place and shook it out. For the first time that night Polly saw her own long, dark hair hanging in front of her - through eyes that weren't quite hers. "Sexy as fuck," someone said and Polly would've screamed if she'd had a voice. "So is this the real costume?" Greg was smiling, one eyebrow raised. Molly looked over her shoulder at him as she slipped the pirate pants from around her waist and let them fall to the floor. Standing there, in her matching pink lace lingerie, dark hair tumbling down she pouted and shrugged. "Fuck costumes baby, let's just have some fun." "Oh yeah," said Freddie in front of her, and Polly cringed as Molly looked right at his crotch... and... and oh God, she licked her lips. But then suddenly she was moving, and for Polly this sent the room spinning. For Molly however, she was totally in control. She must have been waiting so long for just this opportunity, to feel how it felt to really move again in a woman's body. She danced. She moved to the muffled thud of a bass line coming from far downstairs and she spun and stretched and moved in a way Polly had never done. One moment she was bending over, pressing her cleavage up and together for Freddie on the low sofa, while giving Greg behind her the most perfect look at her pert ass and cute pink panties, the next she was stretching, almost touching Lou's crotch before pulling away. God, how was Mol doing this? What had she been, a stripper? The situation seemed so implausible to Polly that it felt like someone was going to burst out laughing any moment. But they didn't. They were smiling, sweating, passing around a bottle they'd grabbed from the table and they were wrapped around her finger. Mol's finger. - We're making their cocks hard. Mol's not so innocent whisper came from inside. - You are! You are! I don't want this! - I think I know what you want. Mol turned to Lou, still sitting, so cool. She reached behind herself, to the clasp of the bra, and pinched it. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours," she challenged. And Lou grinned even wider. "With pleasure." He unbuttoned the checked shirt in moments and threw it over the back of the other chair, sitting there, cocky but with every right to be as Molly let her eyes linger on his gorgeously muscular body. Then Molly let her fingers go, let the bra fall away and showed the three men Polly's perky little breasts. "One more time," Molly hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and smiled, dirty enough to be arrested, "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." "Woah," whispered Freddie. "Wow," Greg agreed. "Are you serious?" Lou gave her a half smile and brought his hands to his crotch. He pinched the zipper of his fly between his thumb and forefinger and waited. One Haunted Night "Are you ok with these two hunks seeing your cock?" God, Polly couldn't believe what Molly was having her say. She would never say that! But... but she kind of did want to see Lou's cock and LOVED seeing him shirtless... but... Lou made a face and glanced at Greg. "Not really," Polly felt hope bloom again - was this where it would stop? "But I want to see you fucking naked more than I care about that." And then he was unzipping, unbuttoning, loosening and suddenly there it was... half hard and gorgeous, Lou's prick cradled in his strong right hand. And almost before she had time to enjoy the view Polly was moving. Inside she froze as her hands pushed her panties down off her hips and she shimmied them down to the floor. Lou was looking at her - looking right at her tidy little bush - and then she was turning again. She was turning her back to him and spreading her legs and bending... oh no! She was spreading her legs and bending over for him like a little slut. She was showing him EVERYTHING and she was stark naked, locked in a room with three guys and the object of her crush was stroking his cock to her slutty display... stroking his cock as she bent over for him and... "Show me," Greg's voice was low and commanding and Polly thought that things would stop, any moment they'd all realise they'd gone to far and things would stop. But they didn't stop yet, and then she was bending over for Greg, her dark hair hanging down, and her hands were reaching back. What? Why? Oh God, she was reaching back to spread herself... she was spreading her pussy open for him. She would see these guys again and now this is what they would think of. The girl who gave them that slutty, drunken striptease at that party that one time. And would word get around? God it could in this town. She had to leave as soon as she could. She had just known Molly would ruin her life, she had just known it. Freddie was dumb and speechless and Greg was stroking himself through the thick material of his jeans as she straightened up and stretched with a pornographic moan. And then Polly realised that things were only getting started, because two steps later she was kneeling in front of Lou, stark naked with her hands on her lap. "Trick or treat." "Trick or treat?" he chuckled. "Give me something good to eat." And with that Molly gently moved his stroking hand and leaned over his lap to take the hot, gleaming head of his cock into her mouth. Into Polly's mouth. This had to be a dream, Polly thought. She was in an abandoned mansion, possessed by a ghost, stark naked, sucking on her crush's cock while his buddies no doubt watched her head move, her ass too, trying to catch a glimpse of her naked cunt as she shamelessly felated their pal. - You have no idea, NO IDEA how wonderful this is. Molly commented to her, sounding almost grateful. Her real lips couldn't say anything of course, wrapped, as they were, around the thick, rigid cock-meat of the man she had been pining after. She had him now... in a way. - You're ruining my life! - Sweetie, having your brains bashed in is life-ruining. I'm opening doors for you. And don't he taste good? - Stop it! But something told her that Molly wasn't paying any attention to the girl she had locked up inside anymore. Instead she was savouring every moment of her night in the flesh. Polly felt everything. She felt her tongue playfully tease the purpling head of Lou's prick, then lick from the very base of his shaft to the tip and tease it again. She felt that thick base in her hand as Molly wrapped her fingers around it and then she felt every inch of him as Molly let his length slide over her tongue and filled her mouth with his cock. And of course he fucking tasted good, but that just... it just wasn't the point. Molly was slowly pumping Lou at the very base of his cock, bobbing, sucking, moving and taking him deeper and deeper all the time. She moaned extravagantly, mouth full of dick and shimmied her ass as she rose up on her knees a little more - the better to take him further in. Polly's consciousness (she didn't quite know what to call it - whatever she was at that point) was spinning. She was detached from it all, watching everything that was happening through eyes that she couldn't control like some point-of-view porno flick. But at the same time she could feel it all. She could feel the dusty floorboards until her knees, the cool air making the hairs on her skin stand up, the hot male member that was pressing now to the back of her throat. The guys were talking but she was dizzy, she couldn't process what they were saying. When Molly leaned back she was looking up at Lou, and the eye contact made Polly almost feel like this was real, between her and him, something she could enjoy. But then Mol went back down on that thick prick and all Polly could see was his gorgeous abs and the bush of his hair and all she could taste was cock and suddenly it all felt dirty and wrong. And if she had been in control of her body she would've screamed when she felt the hands on her hips. But she wasn't, Molly was, and Molly just started swaying and bouncing her ass until she got a short, sharp spank for her efforts. Polly felt it all. "Up," Greg said, "Let's have you up and bending over, Miss P. Don't you dare stop sucking my man's thing either." Mol came up for air with a gasp, and Polly realised that part of how dizzy she'd been getting was from being light headed from sucking for too long. "I wouldn't dream of it, honey." She stood, Polly dazed and knowing that she should be screaming in there, screaming for Molly's attention, anything to put a stop to this, but feeling less and less like doing so. "Oh, I knew there was something with you." Lou caught her eye for a moment as Mol stood up, still the only one naked in the room, then bent over, legs straight and parted in an A, lips already pouting open for his cock. "I hope this doesn't mean we can't... see each other again or something." Polly felt Gregs hands squeezing her pert ass cheeks, groping them, spreading them to get a good long look at her in a way no-one ever had before. "Mmm-mmm," Molly hummed, already sucking Lou's dick. Polly wasn't sure what he meant, she wasn't sure about anything. Did that mean he wanted to date her? After this? "I mean, if it's cool with her then it's cool," Greg said from behind her, still mauling her ass with his strong fingers, making even Molly shimmy and wriggle under his touch, "But then... is it cool for me to slide in back here? With you, dude?" - No. I only want Lou! Polly found her voice and screamed inside herself, realising that, yes, she was ok with Molly having her do whatever with Lou, but this... She missed something. She must have missed some decision made by something because suddenly there was pressure, there was a hot, hard force pressing against her pussy lips and she realised for the first time how hot and wet and ready her body was (and was that Molly's doing, or her own subconscious?) and then pleasure, undeniable pleasure burst through her as Greg's cock slipped between her lips and into her ready wetness. "Aaahn!" It was Molly crying out, mouth coming off the cock, but it might as well have been Polly. Two women in one body both shuddering with pleasure, holding onto the arms of an old wooden chair as a young man slowly eased his member into the tight, hot sheath of their pussy. Lou was seeing that he could push this, and his hand was suddenly on the back of their head, pushing their lips back down onto his cock. Polly was detached, she had no control. But FUCK she was there, she was undeniably right there, feeling everything as Molly sucked Lou's thick, lovely prick like a professional, and Greg held onto her hips and slowly, gently, eased his cock in... then out... letting her get used to it. It felt good. Fuck it felt good, and she felt wrong and good and lost to be doing this. She could sense something else near her, but far away, glowing with exhilaration. Christ, it was Molly! Molly was happy beyond belief, and with every stroke of Greg's prick (not as thick as Lou she thought, not that Polly had ever had to compare the cock in her mouth and the cock in her pussy before) she was almost screaming in delight. Soon Greg was firmly in control and just fucking her, fucking her pussy with smooth, even, deep strokes. Lou's cock was sloppy with spit and precum and every now and then would slip out of her mouth and smear the mess up her cheek - even Molly was having trouble being perfect being fucked from both sides like this. Every thrust of that prick into her honeyed hole, every time that hot cock in her mouth slipped back so she could lick the head, Polly's mind flipped. Maybe... this might not ruin her life. She remembered Freddie, but even though he was the biggest guy he had the least force to his personality. She wondered if he'd even got his cock out yet. Wait, that was totally unlike her to think that! Wasn't that what Molly had been thinking? Before she could figure out just who was thinking what inside her body though, suddenly things changed. Molly was up and gasping for breath, still bent over and being fucked, she was stroking Lou's piece now and kissing his sweet, hard six-pack. "How about we go to the bed you guys? My legs can't take much more of this." "With pleasure," Lou smiled, and with a look at Freddie (who was standing, watching, rubbing himself through his pants, looking like he might be enjoying things) the three of them moved to the double bed. It looked like someone had prepared the place a little today, thank God, because the sheets looked almost pristine, if a little faded from some original, rich wine-red colour. Molly climbed up on the bed and stretched out languorously, watching her two men kick off jeans and underwear, getting all but naked themselves as they approached. "Time for a change boys," Molly said. "I want that thick thing between my thighs," she pointed to Lou's throbbing, bucking rod, "and I want to suck on that one," Greg shrugged and smiled. "Sounds just perfect, Miss P." Molly kept wriggling and crawling over the bed for a moment, and Polly, dizzy and dazed and not sure what she felt anymore didn't know what was going on. Then suddenly she was lying back, back, back - lying on her back, perpendicular to the bed with her head hanging down just off one side, so she was looking, upside down at the peeling wallpaper. "Bring it around here then." Molly said, and yet again Polly had the feeling that things were going to far, she was in over her head and that they had to stop. He was going to fuck her mouth. Greg was going to fuck her face and, oh God she already felt Lou climbing up on the bed, felt his strong hands parting her thighs as Molly helpfully obliged, spreading wide open for him. Greg was in front of her, over her before she knew it, and as he bent so that tip of his cock touched her lips she realised that he would fuck her face and Lou would fuck her cunt and she'd never get to see him do it. Through her daze she saw what Molly wanted to look at, the way Greg's cock was shining in the light, so wet and... what was that, how was he so wet...? She got chills inside when she realised. Her own juices. Greg's cock was slick from her pussy and now he was going to feed it to her. Molly kissed the tip and then opened wide and relaxed her throat. And then she was tasting him. Tasting her own pussy on this man's cock. And before she could protest inside there was something else. Something thicker than before, pressing, pushing, thrusting into her. When Lou's cock fucked into her, so much thicker than Greg's, she screamed. And Molly screamed around the cock meat in her mouth. And then Lou pushed her legs up and spread her even wider apart... and fucked her like she had never been fucked before. Greg's cock in her mouth, as he gasped and thrusted and slipped over her tongue, almost didn't register, neither did the fact that all she could see were his cock and heavy balls moving and swaying and filling her mouth again and again. Lou fucked her like this was the fuck he'd been waiting his life for. He kept his hands on her thighs, holding then caressing, not too hard, and he fucked her to the hilt of his weapon again and again with a passion and a force that just sent her to the stars. His cock was just so perfect for her: such a perfect length, and the perfect width to just... overstimulate her beautifully. And she could only imagine that her pussy was just perfect for him too - the way he was fighting to keep control the whole time - not wanting to go too hard, but unable to calm himself down. His cock owned her. He fucked her like she was already his, but she knew just as well that he was hers too. She wanted to squeeze him inside her, and felt with delight that Molly was doing exactly that... or maybe she was. But her pussy was his mistress as much as his prick was her master and the way she could hear him crying out made her almost... satisfied. Molly wasn't satisfied though. Suddenly Polly realised that her hands were moving crossing her body as Greg took his pleasure from one set of lips and Lou took his from the other. One hand cupped her small left breast, pinching the nipple. The other found her clit and sent Polly's mind spinning into the void again. It was so surreal, not least of all because... Molly didn't know her body. She didn't know how to masturbate, how to tease Polly's little clit in the way that she really liked. That was such a weird concept - that the pleasure in Polly's body would be connected up like that and disconnected from Molly's actions. But Polly was absolutely not in the right state of mind for any kind of investigation like that, and besides, with that perfect cock driving her insane, it barely took any stimulation of her swollen clitoris at all before she knew she was about to topple over the edge. As the blood pounded in her ears and the world shrunk around them she panicked for a second. But only for a second as she realised that, out of control as things were, there was nothing she could do about it. Molly, or perhaps a part of her that Molly couldn't quite control, made her back arch and her fingers slip faster and faster across her swollen, desperate clit. She grunted and moaned around Greg's member and she almost felt - rather than heard - Lou's guttural curses as his own climax started to churn and build inside him. But Polly knew herself, she couldn't feel her fingers properly and she knew what came next. She knew she would beat him to it. In the split second before it happened she wondered if Molly knew it too. "Mmmmnph!" The orgasm rushed through her, electric whiplashes of pleasure rippling up from her spine to her brain, surging out in every direction, to the tips of her fingers, to the tips of her toes. Molly kept her fingers moving and it wasn't perfect but it worked and she kept riding it, back arched like a bow, Lou's thick cock still fucking her with such perfect depth and strength. She squeezed him inside her and felt his low groan vibrate through her body. And while that detonation of ecstasy was still echoing inside her, while she was still CUMMING, eyes barely able to make sense of what she was seeing, the heavy balls dangling in front of her face tensed and rose. Fuck, she was still cumming as Greg's cock swelled and throbbed in her mouth and suddenly his thick, salty seed was spurting into her throat, into her mouth, filling it, overflowing it. Head hanging back like this, she coughed and spluttered, strained her neck up to keep from choking and felt trickles of his cum on her cheeks, in her nose. And as the orgasm finally faded she could taste again, the unique taste of his cum mixed with hers. He slid his prick from between her lips, and helped lift her head letting her swallow - letting Molly swallow. And Lou, still fucking her, still between her legs, dominating and taking his pleasure from her, looked positively bestial. Greg helped her shift back onto the bed so she could look up at him, and then it was just her and Lou. "Oh fuck, Polly," he gasped. "Cum in me," Molly purred, one hand still idly and softly squeezing her breast the other scooping up Greg's cream from her cheek and feeding it to herself. "Cum for me." And he did, helplessly, as if on command. Suddenly he gave one massive thrust that almost humped her back off the bed and then Polly felt him inside her, throbbing and bucking and shooting his thick load into her so-sensitive pussy. He gasped as if on the verge of collapse and he gave her every drop he had. It was a few minutes before anyone spoke. Polly and Lou were lying on the bed, Molly's hand resting on his gorgeously muscular chest, and for Polly that was all she wanted. The rest of the room - of the world - could just get lost. "Wow," Lou chuckled after a while, "that was..." "Dynamite, darling." Molly drew a circle on his stomach with one finger. She reached up to her face again and swiped up another drop of Greg's spunk. She licked her finger clean. - And so, so worth it, wouldn't you say? - Molly's voice echoed hollowly inside, for only Polly to hear - Don't tell me you didn't enjoy that you little tart, don't lie to me! - It was... - I'll be gone soon and you'll be free and look, it looks like I snared your man for you! Polly didn't know what to say. Her mind was tired, so tired and disoriented after a night of struggling and being totally cut off from any control. And her body, her body that she could STILL FEEL, was sore and aching and wonderfully post-coital. "Y'know," it took Polly a moment to realise that Molly was speaking out loud, to the guys, "aren't we forgetting someone?" She rolled onto her front on the bed as Lou sat up, looking around for his jeans. Molly glanced back into the room and Polly saw that Greg had slumped into the low couch and was slouching back, head lolling against the back of the sofa. Freddie, on the other hand, was still just standing. He was near the bed and still stroking what looked like a painfully hard erection through his jeans. "Oh hey," he said, "this was hot as hell, you don't need to..." "Just this one night," Molly interrupted, and Polly noticed her eyes flicker to Lou. "Just this one night I'm a different person. And I'm feeling VERY generous." - Wait, wait, this is over, this can be over... Molly was lying face down, alone on the bed now as Lou dressed and took a swig from the bottle. Polly felt his thick cum start to come oozing out of her flushed, fucked pussy and had never felt dirtier. But she was still stark naked on the bed, looking back over her shoulder at the burly Freddie, and then Molly was lying flat on the bed and reaching back with her hands, giving her two cheeks a light little spank. "I'm sorry to say that I'm kind of a... um, mess down there, Freddie darling. But there's a cute little place between these cheeks that hasn't had a cock in it yet..." - No! "Holy shit," Lou said. - No! I don't want to, this... this was ok! Stop, you bitch! - If you're going to get nasty, honey, I'll have you suck it clean when it comes back out. "Polly," Freddie was almost laughing in disbelief, "You don't have to..." "Shhh, I WANT to," Molly purred, "Let me have this one wild night, Fred. Please? Pretty please? Fuck me in the ass?" Polly had thought this would be it. She had thought the end was in sight but... oh fuck. "Is it..." Polly couldn't see, but she could guess that Freddie was consulting Lou. "If she's asking you, man... you'd be crazy not to." "I mean, but I don't even have any... any..." "I bet you ten bucks there's some lube and other kinky stuff in those drawers. That's exactly the sort of thing people would leave up here."