Cabin in the Woods [Story]

[LycanDope]

A retelling of the absolutely brilliant horror movie 'Cabin in the Woods' with an altogether different ending.

Chapter 1 of 2.

Notes: Man. I do NOT like summarizing and mirroring existing works. This was an oddly painful experience to do. Still, I've had an idea about rewriting the movie to make it a bit more TF friendly sooooo...

Please note: There is no sexiness in this chapter, sorry. It's all build up and prep work for the second half which will have plenty of good stuff in it!
---------------------------------
Dana danced around her room, grabbing books and clothes from various places. The young woman worked quietly, bouncing around to the music, unconcerned at being semi-nude in front of her open windows. She barely thought of anyone outside that might see her in her panties, assuming that the shirt was enough to hide her nudity. Her thoughts were a million miles away, focused on the upcoming weekend in the cabin.

Tucking a thick strand of red hair behind her ear, she picked up her sketchbook, turning the pages slowly until she found a sketch of her professor. Her fingers traced the sketch carefully, mindful of smudging the edges.

"Is that who I think it is," a voice asked from behind her. "Dana, seriously, you need to do something about that. Him. Whatever."

"It's not that simple," Dana said with a sigh, closing the book and turning to her friend. "Your hair!"

"Oh, you noticed," Jules said nonchalantly.

"When? When you'd color it?"

"Just this morning! Do you like it? It's good, right? Fabulous?"

"Has Curt seen it, yet?" Dana asked.

"He will-"

"He'll flip out, Jules," Dana said.

"Forget about Curt. He'll like it or else. Just... just tell me it looks good, okay? Yes?"

"It looks great, Jules. It really fits you."

"Good. Now," Jules said, reaching for the sketchbook. "Gimme. We're going to burn the sketch. It'll be a cleansing. For you."

"No, no, no," Dana said, pulling the sketchbook away from her friend. "No, I'm not ready for that yet."

"Dana. Dana, seriously. The whole situation is fucked up."

"It's not. It's fine. It's not-"

"He fucked you. Or, well, you fucked him. Both of you fucked. And then he broke up with you over email! Email, for god's sake!"

"It's fine," Dana said, looking away. "I knew what I was doing and it's fine. I'm just- I'm just not ready to talk about it."

"That," Jules said, digging through Dana's closet. "Is why we're getting away this weekend!" The young girl pulled out a dark red bikini, waving it around triumphantly.

"That is not going with us," Dana said firmly, reaching for the bikini while Jules hid it behind her back.

"Holden will be there, Dana," Jules said. "Curt swears Holden's cute and if my manly mountain man says a guy's cute then he's fucking adorable. The bikini is going with you. Maybe Holden will take it off of you. With his teeth."

"Ugh, Jules," Dana sighed. "I'm not ready for that, either. I can't even think about that right now."

Ignoring the other girl, Jules pounced over to Dana's bag. "What in- Dana, no. Bad girl. Your accounting textbooks?" She shoved the bikini deep into the bag while taking out the textbooks.

"Hey, leave those!"

"Why? Give me one good reason I shouldn't throw these out of the window."

"Well, what if I get bored? That and they cost over a hundred dollar each so please don't trash them."

"It's a cabin on the lake, Dana!" Jules said, raising her voice. "There's going to be alcohol and boys and and... textbooks? No, absolutely not."

"Dana, Jules," a deep voice called from the doorway. "Are you done packing yet?"

"No," Dana said, staring as Jules put her textbooks back on the shelf. "Almost, though."

"Well," Curt said, stepping into the room. "Hurry it up. And, in the meantime, look outside by the car."

Dana leaned towards her window, staring down into the street. A young man stood outside in a hoodie, leaning against the trunk of a brown car. He looked around the neighborhood casually with his hands deep in his pockets.

"Is that Holden?" Dana asked.

"Yes it is," Curt said, stepping over to Jules to give her a kiss. "He just transferred. Sweet guy and the best hands on the team."

Jules glanced at her friend, a wicked smile forming on her lips. "Good with his hands, huh?"

Dana rolled her eyes. "Don't try to force this. I'm just going to get away for the weekend and unwind. That's it. That's all I'm doing. Nothing else." Still, her mind wandered back to the man standing in the street with his buzz cut and strong jaw.

Curt kissed Jules again and ran his fingers through his girlfriend's hair. "Blonde looks good on you, babe."

"You like it?" Jules asked excitedly, her cheeks turning red.

Dana watched the two with a pang of jealousy. Growing up, her parents had filled her head with stories about young couples marrying out of high school and turning into jaded, angry people. But, here, watching Jules and Curt together, she thought they were wrong. The two had started dating in high school and were deeply, madly in love. Aside from a few arguments, she'd never seen them fight.

"I love it. Almost as much as I love you," Curt replied, kissing her again. "Now get your sweet ass downstairs and finish getting ready!" The young woman grinned and spun away laughing, her flowery dress swirling with her movement.

"Nobody's forcing you to do anything, Dana," Curt said, glancing out of the window. "Trust me. I'm sorry how things went with the professor but this'll be good for you. Holden's got a good head on his shoulders and he's a friend. Talk to him. He knows more than how to catch a football."

"Well, maybe," Dana said slowly.

"Just," Curt said, looking her in the eyes. "Maybe put pants on first."

"Oh!" Dana said, pulling her shirt down. "Shit! Get out! Out!"

-----

Curt and Holden shoved suitcases and bags into the small RV they were using for the weekend getaway. Dana heard them laughing over something as she took her purse down from the hook by her front door.

"He is cute," Jules said from Dana's side.

"Come on," Dana sighed as the two stepped outside. "Let's just drop it."

"Alright, I'm just saying- Wait. Is that-" An old station wagon slowly drove past, the interior nearly completely obscured by thick white smoke. "Oh no."

The car rolled to a stop, smoke billowing out of the crack in the driver's side window. Jules followed Curt over to it while Dana and Holden stood next to each other, watching.

"Hey man, what the hell!" Curt called out.

A young man, holding a long metal bong, stepped out of the car, swaying gently before leaning back against the door. Short and skinny with a thin beard, he glanced around at this friends.

"I have been driving around and around and around the block looking for you," the young man said carefully. "Everyone drives so weird around here."

"Marty," Jules said more calmly. "Honey, you can't drive like that."

"Unless you want to end up in jail for the weekend, bro," Curt added, his normally open, happy face stern.

Marty looked between Jules and Curt, squinting at both of them. "The cops will never pull me over. They fear me. They see the smoke and they worry that I'll come after them, working my ancient logic and reasoning on them. A fierce dragon summoned from the pits of hell to consume them all."

"What the hell is that thing, even?" Curt asked, pointing at the bong. "We're not bringing it. No fucking way."

"That," Marty said, handing a large paper bag to Jules. He reached into his car to pull a canvas bag before handing it to Curt. Finally, he took the bong and collapsed it, holding it as if it were a coffee mug. "Is a coffee mug."

"Bullshit," Curt laughed, following Marty and Jules back to his father's Rambler.

"Dana!" Marty called out, stepping into the RV. "You little minx, look at you! Please tell me there's some food on this thing."

-----

The old Rambler bounced along the small, one lane road. Occasionally, the dirt bike attached to the rack at the rear of the vehicle clattered against the bars holding it. Curt cursed at his phone, shaking it as if the act would fix the loss of a GPS signal. Jules patted his arm sympathetically.

"GPS systems," Marty intoned, rolling a joint. "Are the problem with society. One of the problems. We think it's amazing and useful and we use it every day but, if you stare into the abyss, it stares back at you."

"To be clear," Jules asked from the passenger seat. "The GPS is the abyss in this conversation?"

"Yes," Marty said. "One of the abysses. Abysii? It's the grid, all of it. Traffic cameras and GPS and cellphones and all of it. We don't live in a free world any more. Everybody's watching everybody else. Everybody's listening. The person at the end of the call. The government. Other governments. We're blogging and recording and tweeting and liking everything and not leaving room for just being. And all those nebulous forces are out there gobbling it all up greedily."

"And so?" Jules prodded with a half-smile. "Society's crumbling, Marty?"

"No, no it is not," Marty answered slowly. "And that's the problem. We're binding ourselves tighter and tighter and tighter with all of this technology. Society needs to crumble. To free us from all of this."

"This," Jules said, smiling broadly now. "This is why I asked you to come with us on the trip. I've missed your rants, you crazy bastard."

"They aren't rants," Marty said enigmatically, holding up a finished joint. "They're truths."

-----

Hadley and Sitterson stood before an enormous vault door. A scale beneath the concrete weighed them to make sure the cameras, seeing two individual people, read correctly. Sitterson, a balding man in his early 50s, leaned forward to face a small plate in the wall. Placing his hands on a separate plate, he gave his full name for the computer. Deep within the door, metal rods shifted, pulling inward as the door swung open.

"Identification, please," an armed security guard said from within. The guard held a slung assault rifle, his finger on the trigger guard. Both men presented their badges for the guard to scan. "Thank you, sirs."

"Not 'sir', uhhh-" Hadley said as they walked into the room.

"Truman, sir."

"Not 'sir', Truman," Hadley said, checking gauges and graphs on the nearby computer. "This isn't the military. Just 'Hadley' is fine."

"I prefer 'honeysuckle', personally," Sitterson said from the corner of the room. "Or 'sugar tits'. Either works for me and will put me right in the mood for-"

"You're aware of what's happening, Truman?" Hadley asked. "Don't let Sugar Tits get riled up or it'll ruin my whole night."

"Yes. I've been prepped."

"Simulations, I suppose?" Hadley asked, moving around the room. "Not the same thing, Truman. At all."

"I know my duties, Mr. Hadley," Truman replied.

On the large, center screen facing the control console, a pixelated live satellite image resolved and then zoomed in. The process repeated until a small RV was shown following a marked road. White triangles (designating assets in place) followed the RV, including two F-15s and a Boeing E-3 Sentry far above.

"Fantastic. That's all we ask."

-----

"I'm going to stop here," Curt said, pulling into a dilapidated gas station. "Last stop before the cabin and I'd rather top off. Stretch your legs and all of that."

"How long has this been here," Marty asked as he stepped out of the RV. "We make gasoline from old, dead dinosaurs but I think this was here before they were. Maybe they milk dinosaurs for gas here."

Holden stepped between the ancient gas pumps to peer through the clouded windows. Two small dust devils swirled close to him, dancing together before breaking apart. Seeing no-one, he stepped inside, carefully walking around shelves filled with old jars of pickled eggs and pickled pig's feet. Cans with peeling, faded labels were strewn about. He stopped to touch some hanging pelts before turning back.

"Hey, Holden!" Curt said from outside. "You seein' anyone in there?"

"No," Holden answered, stepping back outside.

"Can't come in here," and old voice said directly behind Holden.

"Jesus Christ!" Holden said, whirling with his hands up. "Hey, look, man-"

"Sign says it's closed so we're closed," the leathered old man said, following Holden outside. His upper lip bulged, full of chew and his teeth were stained black and yellow from it.

"We were hoping to get some gas," Curt said. "If your pumps work."

"And to get some directions," Holden added.

"Tillerman Road," Jules said, stepping over to Curt. She hugged his side while eyeing the old man. "Are we going the right way?"

The man's eyes tightened but he blinked and walked over to the pumps, unlatching one.

"Yeah," he said, spitting to the side. "Continues up the hill there. To the old Buckner place."

"My cousin bought it," Curt said, following the old man as he fueled their RV. "The house over there. Said you go through a tunnel and there's a lake and everything up there."

"Yup, that'd be it," the old man nodded. "Didn't know it'd been sold again. Seems like nobody wants to keep a hold on it."

"Did you know the owners?" Jules asked.

"One a them," he told her. "Not the first. Been here since the war and watched plenty of people come and go from that place."

"World... War 2?" Jules asked nervously.

"You know damn well what war I'm talking about, girl."

Marty stepped from the side of the RV. "I'm guessing the other one. The blue and gray. Brother against brother. North against-"

"You got a mouth on you, boy," the old man said. His face was hard and red and his fists were clenched at his sides.

"Only if I think someone needs it. You were being rude to-"

"Hmph," the old man spat, looking Jules up and down. "To that whore?"

Curt's jaw tightened. "What the hell did you just say?"

"I said-" the old man started.

"I think," Holden said, stepping between the two men. "We got enough gas."

"To get you there," the old man said, eyes flicking to the bottom of the RV. A single drop of gasoline fell to the ground and another followed seconds after. "After that..."

Curt's eyes never left the old man's face. He dug into his pocket, pulled out a few dollars and dropped them to the ground. Holden put the pump away while everyone piled back into the RV.

The old man grinned as the Rambler sped off. The smile never touched his hard, cold eyes.

-----

The rest of the trip passed quietly with the group lost in thought. The old man had been unsettling, putting a damper on everyone's spirit as they made their way through the tunnel in the mountain. Overhead lights flickered as they passed. Midway through the tunnel, someone on the other side of the mountain (watching the RV's progress via hidden cameras) flipped a switch and a low hum filled the dark corridor.

Nearly a mile from the tunnel, the vehicle turned a corner and the cabin came into view. Surrounded by a thick forest with leaves everywhere, the small cabin seemed barely more than shack hidden away.

"Is- is that it?" Jules asked quietly.

"Yeah," Curt said. "Looked a little different in the pictures."

"Oh. Oh, no," Jules said. "It's, uhh, beautiful. I'm sure the spider horde is very happy with it. I'll be in the Rambler tonight."

Curt parked the RV and looked over at his girlfriend. "You'll be fine, babe. Come on, let's get everything inside."

"Do you think the spiders spared us a room or two?" Jules asked as they grabbed their bags.

Dana clutched her bag and approached the cabin carefully. With daylight out, she expected more noise. Birds singing and... something. She had never been camping before. Not in a tent or a cabin. But, didn't everyone say nature was loud? The silence was nearly overbearing. An absence of sound rather than simply animals being quiet for the evening.

Steps lead up to a large, covered porch. Dana took the steps and reached carefully for the front door, feeling foolish for not just going in. She pushed the door and it opened, revealing a quaint little living room. Dropping her bag on the old couch, she explored a bit, walking into the kitchen. It seemed bigger inside than out and not nearly as terrible as she feared.

Curt, Jules and Holden stepped inside after her.

"Amazing," Curt said, turning around to look at the living room. "I admit. I was worried for a second there but this is awesome."

They fanned out, looking for their rooms.

"Everyone get your suits!" Jules called as she pulled a suitcase down the hallway towards the bedrooms. "After we're all settled, we're going out to the lake. Sunlight's burning!"

Holden followed slowly, picking the first room on the left. He was as surprised as Curt was; from outside, the cabin seemed to be rotting away but, inside, it was rustic with plenty of room. He dropped his duffle bag on the bed and looked around.

"Little House on the Prairie style, I-" He stopped, looking at a painting hanging on the wall. At first glance, it seemed to be a simple painting of some old settlers but, looking closer, the imagery was disturbing. A large goat was being torn apart by a family and their dogs. In the painting's background a man stood watching silently.

"Nope, not if I want to sleep tonight," Holden said, picking up the painting to turn it around. He jumped as, instead of the wall, he saw Dana standing in her room. She didn't seem to see him and, instead, leaned forward into what Holden assumed was a two-way mirror. He watched her for a moment as she checked her hair in the mirror. "You're an attractive young woman, D-"

The young man's eyes widened as Dana began to unbutton her shirt. He looked away briefly but turned back as she worked her fingers down the shirt, exposing her bra. With only a moment's indecision, he sighed and stepped out of the room.

"Dana!" He called out, knocking on the young woman's door. The door opened slightly and the young woman looked through the crack. "That mirror isn't a mirror."

"What?" Dana asked in confusion.

"The mirror. It's two-way. I can see into your room."

"H- hold on." The door closed.

"Hey, what's up," Curt said as he passed.

"There's a two-way mirror in my bedroom," Holden told him.

"No fucking way," Curt said, dropping the bags he carried. He made to step into into Holden's room but Holden grabbed him.

"Just wait. Dana's getting dressed."

"She's what?" Curt asked. Comprehension dawned and he laughed, clapping Holden's shoulder. "You sly dog!"

"No, man! I didn't see-"

"You better not have," Dana said as she opened her door. All three gathered in Holden's room to stare at the mirror. Marty and Jules followed them, curious to see what was happening.

"Jesus," Dana said, staring into her room through the mirror.

"That's... that's just creepy," Jules added. "Why would this even be here?"

"We should check the other rooms," Curt said, kissing his girlfriend on the temple. "To make sure that's the only one. If it is, we can switch with them so Marty can watch us pounding away, Jules."

"Hey," Marty complained, following Curt and Jules out of the room. "That's- man, I don't even want to think about that."

"I think we should switch rooms," Holden told Dana. "I mean, I wouldn't try to look in if we didn't but maybe for your own peace of mind, it'd be better. But it's cool if you-"

"Just, stop," Dana said. "It's fine. I'll take your room. I trust you but I'm weirded out but that whole thing. I don't think I could sleep right even if I wanted to. And, uhh, thanks. For not being a creep about it, you know?"

"Yeah," Holden said. "Yeah, of course. I mean, Jules promised me your hand in marriage and I think it's a good idea if we wait until then. All proper like."

"Ah," Dana said nervously. "Ha, haah. Yeah. They're, uhh, not subtle at all about that. I'm, I'm sorry, I'm really not looking-"

"Hey, I know," Holden interrupted. "I'm just joking. I mean, no, they actually did tell me I should try to-"

"I really don't want to know," Dana said. "But, really, I mean it, thank you for telling me. About the mirror. You're a decent guy."

"Well," Holden said, pausing. "I had a debate. About telling you. For a moment. So maybe not completely one hundred percent decent. Left angel, right demon. Fierce battle. Lots of bloodshed."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, tore me right up," Holden told her, clutching his stomach.

"You. You should probably talk to Jules about that. Since she's pre-med," Dana answered, immediately regretting the words.

"Ah," Holden said, blinking quickly. "Ah. Okay, then." Without another word, the young man grabbed his bag and walked out.

"Ah, Dana," the young woman whispered to herself. "Real smooth."

Dana placed her bag on the bed where Holden's bag had been. Still shaking her head, she saw movement out of the corner of her eyes and looked up in time to watch Holden take his shirt off.

"Oh," Dana said, staring. He was lean and strong and either didn't care that she watched or assumed she wouldn't. Either way, Dana found herself staring at him until he began unbuttoning his pants.

With a hard blush, the woman grabbed the painting on the ground to hang it back up. Only then did she truly look at it. She frowned, staring at the goat in the picturing, focusing on the way it looked like it was being murdered rather than simply butchered for meat.

"Uhh, no," she said to herself, pulling a blanket from the nearby couch to cover the painting. "Not if I want to sleep tonight."

-----

"Betting is closed!" Hadley called out. He held a stack of slips in his hand, each with a phrase or word written on them. "Betting is now closed. If you haven't placed your bets now, you lost your chance. All betting is now closed."

The control room was full of people milling about, talking in small groups based on their departments. Some mingled in between groups, socializing and drinking. On the monitors, Curt, Dana, Jules and Holden splashed and swam in the clear lake near the cabin. Marty sat on the dock, fully clothed and smoking a joint. A group of technicians monitored all of the kids' vital signs on separate monitors.

Sitterson wandered over to Truman. "You're new here this year. You want in on this? I'll still take your bet."

"No," Truman said, visibly disturbed. "No, I don't think so. It's... wrong. The betting is wrong."

"It's relaxing," Sitterson explained. "The night is bad enough that we need a way to make it easier. This is one of those ways."

"You're betting on their lives."

"No," Sitterson said. "No, they're already dead. We're just following the rules."

"So why bet, then?" Truman asked. "If you're following the rules, you know what happens so what's the point?"

"But we don't know what's going to happen. We follow the rules because that's how it works but they're have a choice. The old man at the gas pump. They could've turned around then but they chose to stay. In a little bit, we'll open the cellar and they'll make a choice there, too. We don't know what they'll choose because we don't control that. We can't control that or it'd break the rules and none of this would work. It's a system. Designed to keep us all alive. We just guide them a little."

"It's macabre," Truman told him.

"Maybe," Sitterson answered. "But that's how it has to be."

[Case Scenario]

Really interesting. I'm going to keep an eye on this.

[shadowsexile]

Same! This is fun

[Mrblond]

I love reading your stories, and look forward to what you do. Thanks

[LycanDope]

Aww, thanks everyone! I felt bad because there was no TF in this chapter but there will be in the next. Should be out in a week and should be quite fun.

[Randy_McSporran]

If I have to wait with baited breath for much longer there's a good chance I'll pass out. But hey, I'm sure it's gonna be worth it...

[LycanDope]

Hahaha

I'm really hoping to have the second (last) part done by Friday evening but Sunday at the latest. I'm just fairly sure it'll be Friday. I'm trying not to make promises on when I finish stuff since I've failed that badly many times before.

Still, when I put out the first part, I already had a few thousand words down after that so just need to write more to complete it.

[Case Scenario]

Well, we're all anxious, but don't rush. No one wants quantity over quality.

[LycanDope]

A retelling of the absolutely brilliant horror movie 'Cabin in the Woods' with an altogether different ending.

Chapter 2 of 3/4.

Notes: Soooo... hey! Bad news-good news-maybe bad news! Bad news is that I wrote way more than expected so chapter 2 is not the end of the story. The good news is that I've already got 9000 words done on chapter 3! I plan to release that chapter Sunday evening. The possible bad news is that I may have to break it into chapter 3 AND chapter 4. If I do that, the final chapter 4 will be out by Tuesday. I think I just need about 2000 more words to finish the whole thing up so I'm 100% sure on the timelines here. Sorry!
-------------------------------------------
Back in the cabin, all five friends poured their own drinks from a keg while music played through a nearby docked iPhone.

"Okay, my turn!" Marty called out after taking a hit on his joint. "Dana! Truth or dare?"

"Oh god," Dana said, blushing and shifting on the couch next to Jules. "Uhh. Dare."

"Yes!" Marty said, raising his arms and standing. "I dare you to make out with that moose over there."

"M-moose?" Dana asked, looking around. "Marty. Are you talking about that wolf's head?"

Marty squinted at the mounted wolf's head. "Well, whatever that glorious, mysterious beast is, then."

"No, no way," Dana said. "I'm changing to truth."

Jules pushed at her friend. "Come onnnn, Dana, live a little. You always do this. Always wimping out at the last minute. Take a chance, girl."

"I-" Dana paused. Jules was right. She was always taking the easy way out. The safest way. The young woman took a big pull from her beer. She was here to unwind and get away from who she was for a while. Screwing up her courage, she decided to just go for it. "Fuck it. Okay, then."

Standing, Dana faced the mounted head and walked toward it.

"Do it all sexy-like!" Curt called out behind her.

Blushing, Dana stopped. She stared at the wolf's head and then remembered the way Holden had looked shirtless. She was on her second large beer and the shame and anger of the professor's email still hurt her. Again, she decided to just go with it. She glanced back at her friends, her eyes lingering on Holden for a moment. Turning, she slinked over to the mounted head. Her hips shook left and right and Curt whistled after her while Jules called out her own encouragement.

Stopping in front of the wolf's head, she cradled it with her arms, cocking her head to the side and then leaned forward drunkenly. She expected it to smell or feel ratty to the touch but was pleasantly surprised to find it soft and without any scent at all. She planted her lips on the thing's open mouth and kissed it awkwardly.

"No," Marty said from behind. "I said make out with it!"

Blushing, trying to ignore the cat calls and random, overly-exaggerated scenarios behind her, Dana closed her eyes and opened her mouth. Her tongue worked around the wolf's open mouth while her fingers clenched into its fur. She felt its large neck, kneading the thick, soft fur, surprised to find herself slightly aroused at the sensual touch of it. She licked its black lips, her tongue circling its mouth and along its teeth. She wrapped her lips around the thing's tongue and moaned, lightly. For show. Of course. She focused on everything other than what she was doing. She pictured the professor but then quickly thought of Holden instead. She could see his face and his smile and-

"Ow!" Dana pulled back, touching her lip and tongue.

"Hey," Holden said, standing up. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Dana answered. "Yeah. Just cut myself on it. More drunk than I thought, I guess."

"Well, shit," Marty said. "I give an a+ for that wonderful scene!"

Dana swallowed, tasting the blood in her mouth before touching her tongue gingerly again. She sat back next to Jules and told the other girl she was fine when asked.

"Well, uhh, your turn, Dana," Marty said, sitting back down.

"Oh, right," Dana said, standing. "Jules, truth or-"

A loud bang sounded from the middle of the living room, startling everyone. A large trapdoor stood open in the room and everyone stared at it.

"What the hell is that?!" Jules asked.

"The- the cellar door," Dana answered nervously.

Curt took the lead, walking over to it while everyone else watched. "Maybe the wind blew it open?"

"Uhh, how?" Marty asked. "We're inside and there's no wind."

All five of them crowded around, staring at the old, plain steps that led down into darkness.

"What do you think is down there?" Holden asked.

"Why don't we find out?" Jules said. "I still have my dare since I was going to pick that anyway. I'll go down first." Without waiting for anyone else, she stepped down into the cellar, her camera phone's flash providing light.

The room was filled with oddities. In the narrow light she saw old photos, creepy masks, strange tools and more. She turned and her light shined on a portrait of a young girl, making her cry out in sudden fear.

"Jules!" Curt called, rushing down the stairs. "Are you alright?"

"I'm- I'm fine," the young woman answered. "Just startled. Stupid painting. It's nothing."

Everyone else followed Curt down and they fanned out. Marty picked up an old oil lamp, lighting it with his lighter. Warm, mellow light filled the large room.

"Oh my god," Dana said. "Look at all of this."

"Hey," Marty said slowly. "I, uhh, don't mean to be a wuss but I'm not getting a good feeling down here, guys. This doesn't feel right."

Holden stood in front of an animatronic fortune telling machine. "Is this all your cousin's stuff? Because, man, if so, he's into some weird shit."

"No," Curt said, looking around. "I don't think this is his. The mirror people maybe. Or someone before that."

Dana touched a small dresser. "Some of this looks really old."

"And beautiful," Jules said wistfully, touching an old wedding dress.

Curt held a conch shell in his hands, blowing the dirt off of it. He slowly brought it to his lips.

"Maybe we should go back upstairs," Marty said, touching Curt's arm before he could blow into the shell. Curt shrugged his shoulders but put the shell down, suddenly fascinated by an ornate egg. "I, uhh, dare you all to go upstairs. Anyone?"

Still standing in front of the dresser, Dana lifted a little notebook from the top of it. She handled it carefully due to its old age and then opened it while everyone else explored. Jules lifted an old amulet from the wedding dress, slowly bringing it up to put around her neck. Curt held the egg, twisting and turning the shell of it, trying to unlock its secrets. Holden turned the handle to a music box while Marty looked at old film.

"Guys," Dana said. "Listen to this. I found a diary, I think. 'April fourth. Father was cross with me and said I lacked the true faith. I wish I could prove my devotion as Judah and Matthew proved on those travelers.'"

"Wait," Jules said, putting the amulet back. "What is that?"

"'Diary of Anna Patience Buckner, 1903', it says," Dana continued, picking a later entry. "'Mama screamed most of the night. I prayed that she might find faith but she only stopped when Papa cut her belly and stuffed the coals in.'"

"Jesus Christ," Holden said quietly.

"'Judah told me in my dream'," Dana read, again picking a different page. "'That Matthew took him to the black room, so I know he is killed. I want to understand the glory of the pain like Matthew but cutting the flesh makes him have a... husband's bulge and I do not get like that.'"

"What the fuck," Marty exclaimed. "Can we not do this?"

"No," Curt told her. "Go on. I want to know what happens."

"'I have found it. In the oldest books, the way of saving our family. My good arm is hacked up and et so I hope this will be readable. That a believer will come and speak this to our spirits. Then we will be restored and the great pain will return.' And there's something written in Latin."

"Okay," Marty said anxiously. "Okay. I'm drawing a fucking line here. Do not read the Latin. This never fucking ends well."

"I- wait did you guys hear that?" Dana said, looking around anxiously. Her ears strained, twitching for what she swore was a voice.

"No," Marty said. "No, I did not and I don't want to know. Guys, can we-"

"Stop being a fucking baby, Marty," Curt said.

"Curt!" Jules yelled.

"It's a diary," Curt said. "It doesn't mean anything. Keep going, Dana."

"What?" Dana said, looking around. Her left ear twitched slightly. "Oh. Oh, right. Uh. Dolor supervivo caro. Dolor sublimis caro. Dolor ignio annivos."

-----

"That's done it, we have a winner!" Sitterson called out. "It's the Buckners, ladies and gentlemen! All right, that means... looks like congratulations go to Maintenance! Control, release the family!"

"Wait, wait!" a voice called out. "Wait a minute!"

Sitterson looked around, frowning. "We're on a tight schedule here. What's the problem?"

An older woman, graying hair held in a bun, stepped through the crowd. "No, Finance won. We won this one. Final-fucking-ly."

"Clarice," Sitterson said gently, glancing at the large red digital clock over the various monitors. "Look, they read the diary. She spoke the words. Latin! Nobody fucks with Latin but she read the words. It's done. It's the Buckners. Control!"

"No," Clarice said firmly. "Roll back five minutes on the monitor. Come on, Sitterson, don't be a prick. Just do it."

The older man frowned at the woman but then threw his hands up. "Fine! I know you'd bitch and bitch about this if we didn't. Fine. Control, go back five minutes on the feed. Let's see- Oh."

"Yes," Clarice said primly.

"Oh. I forgot all about that damn thing. Since it wasn't in the cellar anymore I'd completely forgotten about it. Okay, Finance for the big 'W', then. Open their pens. Let 'em out, Control. Let's see if Chem did their jobs right this year."

-----

Jules stood in front of the fireplace. The heat from it warmed her but, it was more than that. Ever since she'd arrived at the cabin, she'd felt... not off. Not that. Different. She couldn't - there was a word for it but she couldn't think of it. Distracted? Maybe that? And hot. Not because of the fireplace. Not because of that. But, because she just was. She was always mostly humble about it but sometimes....

The young woman dragged a fingertip down her lips, along her throat and into her open shirt, feeling the swell of her breast. She felt so good. Free. Free-er. She wondered if that was a word but, just briefly. A small, simple laugh escaped her curved lips. Maybe she should seduce her profess... pro... her teacher. With all his big words and talk about medicine. She shook her blonde hair, unaware of the chemicals she'd absorbed from the special coloring. Unaware of what it'd slowly been doing to her. Freeing her mind.

Gyrating, rotating her hips, spreading her long, slim legs, Jules danced. Rocking and working her body, turning to face her friends and smiling because she knew they wanted her. They knew how pretty she was. She knew it.

"Fuck yeah, baby!" Curt said, tipping back yet another glass of beer. He'd lost count of how many he'd had. "Fuck yeah."

Jules made her way over to Holden, giving him a small, private little dance before bouncing away, back to the fireplace.

"Classy," Marty mumbled in a daze.

"Too fucking right it is," Curt yelled, finishing his drink. "Come on, man, you know you'd take a piece of that ass."

"Pieces," Marty said. "Fucking pieces. Can we not talk about people in pieces any more tonight? Was nobody else freaked out about that fucking diary?"

"I was," Holden said, glancing at Jules. Every so often she would move just enough to show off the bottom of an ass cheek. It was hard to resist looking.

"Yeah, I kind of was, too," Dana said. The young woman tilted her head, eyes far away as she seemed to stare into the distance. A bead of sweat rolled down her cheek. "I think the fireplace is too hot."

"Mmm," Jules moaned lightly, making her way over to Marty. "Speaking of too hot... Is someone feeling left out? Remember when we were freshmen? We were sweethearts."

"We only ever made out once and that was before Curt moved into town. I never bought that ring I said I'd give you and you never had eyes for anyone else ever since he showed up anyway." Jules swiveled, shaking her slim ass in front of Marty's face, back and forth while he talked. "I was thinking..."

"Oh, no," Curt said. "No fucking way. I'm not drunk enough to listen to theories from Junior Tommy Chong. Let's go, baby. We'll leave Holden to his job and Marty can explain his nerdy bullshit whatever to both of them."

Dana wrinkled her nose, sniffing after Jules as she passed. She thought she smelled something as the other woman passed. Something off. Not natural. Her lip curled and she tipped her head, sniffing again.

"Hey, Jules," Dana said. "You sure you feeling okay? Maybe you should lie down."

"Ah, that's exactly what we're gonna do," Curt said. Jules giggled as her boyfriend led her away and through the front door. "Both of us. Vigo... vig... roughly."

Dana followed after them, watching them go, happy to be away from the roaring fireplace. The heat from it was too much and yet, standing by the open front door, she didn't feel any cooler. She closed the door slowly as the young couple made their way into the woods. The cold night air brought the scent of the lake, rotting leaves and something familiar. Newly familiar. However that was possible. Something exciting and raw and fresh that made her teeth grind and-

"Hey, so," Marty said, interrupting her thoughts. "Nobody else really thinks anything weird is going on? Nobody thinks people are acting a little off?"

"No," Dana said, too quickly. "I don't think anything is wrong."

"Jules is acting like a... a... hussy," Marty continued. "And Curt - Curt is pulling some alpha male bullshit."

"He's just drunk," Dana said carefully.

"No," Marty said. "No. I've seen him drunk. And, and he's a sociology major on a full academic scholarship and now he's trying to whore his girlfriend out and he's calling his friend a nerd? And-"

"And?" Dana asked nervously, clenching her fist. She could feel her nails digging into her palms.

"And," Marty continued. "I'm... I'm hungry. Do we have any food? Chips or something?"

Dana let out a long breath. "You're high, Marty. I love you but you're so fucking high right now."

"I'm," Marty said, squinting at her briefly. "Okay. Yeah. But. The point stands. We're all wrong. Something's wrong. And nobody else is noticing it or saying anything about it. So. So, yeah. I'm. Going to go look at picture books."

Dana found herself breathing easier once Marty left to his room. The stench of him and his joints threatened to make her vomit. She didn't even know how she could smell anything beyond that as the smell of him seemed to permeate the entire cabin. Not as strong as that smell, though. Whatever it was. Moving. Shifting. In the distance but coming closer. Ever closer. Making her blood pound.

"Hey," Holden said. Dana snapped around to look at the man, the small hairs along her arms standing at end. She'd somehow forgotten about him. He was standing by the keg. "Do you want another drink?"

"Y- yeah," she told him. "Yeah, sure."

Holden filled Dana's mug near to the top and brought it to her. She sat at her end of the couch while he sat opposite side. Mug in hand, he picked up the diary Dana had read downstairs.

"'The pain outlives the flesh'," Holden read. "'The flesh returns' or maybe 'has a meeting place'?"

"Is that somewhere in the diary," Dana asked.

"No," Holden replied. "Well, I guess, yes. It's the Latin you read in the basement."

"You speak Latin?" Dana's ears perked forward, quivering slightly. He smelled good. Clean. Soapy, almost. She could taste him on her tongue. His skin. Staring at his neck, she could picture herself nipping at him. Licking him. Kissing his neck. And she knew exactly how he'd taste. She stopped herself when she realized she was leaning forward slightly. Towards his neck.

"Yes but, not well. Not since high school. I remember bits and pieces, though. Weird how it comes back."

"Well," Dana said, clearing her throat with a low rumble. Soapy and fresh. Another drop of sweat coursed down along her neck, sliding between her breasts. "It's a weird night. For everyone."

"Then I apologize," Holden told her. "Because I'm actually having a pretty good time."

Dana looked up at Holden, lips peeling back briefly from teeth sharper than they should be. The man's arm was on the back of the couch, near to touching her. "You- you shouldn't apologize. I am, too."

-----

With a giggle, Jules found herself leading her boyfriend. Her thoughts tumbled uselessly in her head. Something would come up and she'd try to grab at it, only to find it was mist and, instead, she'd giggle and think about the heat in her little itty bitty tummy. The heat that made her feel so good and dirty and flirty and hot.

[br /]
Curt followed, laughing drunkenly, his mind in a stupor far beyond what the alcohol should do. His cock throbbed painfully in his pants and his veins bulged in his neck and arms. His muscles felt hot and tense and he just wanted to fight and fuck and break shit.

"Are you running away from me," he called to Jules. Half joking but, half serious, too. Angry that she was not just bending over for him right then and there but fighting it, still. He shouldn't be angry at her. That was stupid. She was his girl. HIS girl. All his. Little slut.

"Just a little bit further, somewhere soft," she told him, dancing away from his hand. Laughing.

Laughing at me?! He thought. Grabbing her arm, he pulled, roughly and she giggled, falling to the soft ground.

"Oh, oh yes," she gasped. The moonlight and stars and trees flickered in her eyes. She tried to focus on them but they slipped from her just like her thoughts. She was sooo warm and hot. For Curt. For, well, anybody, really. Wanting to be filled. Needing to be filled. And touched. And kissed. And more.

Curt tugged at the girl's shirt. She pulled away, as if to resist and he held her tight, clumsy, aggressive fingers pulling at her buttons until he simply pulled at her shirt and the buttons popped free, exposing her taut body and firm breasts beneath her bra. Jules gasped and squirmed. She heard something but it mixed with all the other sensations trying to cram through the chemically limited pipe in her head. Did she say something about it? Maybe she said something. She couldn't really remember. All she knew was the way Curt's fingers felt on her skin. His nails in her side, his tongue in her mouth.

"Wait," she mumbled, eyes heavy with lust. "I- heard. Hear that?"

Curt grunted, looking up. He had thought he heard something.

-----

A chorus of 'awww's filled the Control room.

"All right, all right," Hadley called out. "Everyone out! We've got a job to do here and we can't do it with all the geeky virginal bloodlust in the room. Everyone out!"

The crowd dispersed slowly. When the last person left, Hadley pulled a lever slowly upwards.

"Engaging pheromone mists," he said. "How's our girl looking inside? Yeah, I think I'll give them a light dose as well."

-----

A soft, white mist hissed through the forest floor, curling around Curt and Jules. Curt grunted again, the thought of sounds and anything other than fucking his girlfriend simply vanished from his mind. His cock felt like it was going to burst in his pants and he swore he already came but was still rock hard. He tugged at her bra, frustrated that it was stronger than he was and, instead, pulled at her pants when she lifted her hips encouragingly. Their faces flushed red from the effects of the mist.

Her bottom exposed, Curt pulled Jules' bra down, exposing her small breasts. The woman's nipples were as hard as his cock and he eagerly took one in his mouth as Jules' raked her fingers through his hair. His tongue circled her nipple while he fumbled with his jeans with one hand until his cock was free. It lay against her mound, angry and swollen, pre-cum leaking from the tip onto the girl's body. She eagerly lifted herself, trying to get him inside of her, forgetting in her haze that she still wore her panties.

Neither noticed the dead branch breaking nearby. Neither heard it in their gasping, groaning, moaning need.

With a roar, the huge figure threw itself at Curt, claws slicing through flesh and body like paper. The man tried to scream but, instead, gurgled. He looked up at the stars, unaware of how he got where he was. He remembered Jules beneath him and then, suddenly, here he was. Curt touched his neck and looked at his hand. There were only three fingers on his hand and two stumps spurting blood. The hand itself was a mangled, red mess.

"Whhhhh- whhhhhhh," he tried to say, the sounds hissing through the large gash in his throat. Pain bloomed in his stomach. He beat at it, kicking his legs. Trying to move. A loud, shrill scream filled the air but all he knew was pain. Curt tried to grip his stomach but felt something else instead. Something warm and... soft? A single star seemed to grow brighter and brighter as the pain flared and then, he heard a loud crack and he felt nothing at all and the white star burned away the rest of his sight.

[ivan11422]

Awesome addition!

[shadowsexile]

Fantastic, thanks for continuing this :-)

[LycanDope]

Thank you! I hope the next one tomorrow is even better for everyone It'll definitely have a bit more ... uhhh.... ooomph, that's for sure.