Morganstown was your average all-American town, in your average part of the Midwest. It was a place where neighbors waved to each other in the street, even if they hated each other; a place where white picket fences ran around yards, and front doors remained unlocked. Sure, there was probably a disgruntled old hick with a sawn off ready as rain to blast you in the face if you came up onto the porch uninvited, but the door was unlocked all the same.

The problem with Morganstown was that there really wasn’t much to do. Not that it stopped Misty Silveria and her brother Karl from spending nearly every hour of waking daylight between June and September outside. This was the way it had been, for as long as they could remember.

By some standards the pair were probably a bit old to be out kicking up dust in the great American wilderness. Misty was 18 and Karl 19, their best friends Tammy, Lisa and Franco all being 18 years old too. They all held menial jobs in gas stations, diners, grocery stores or the local library. For a short while, Tammy had worked in a lingerie store, but the conservative town council had run the business out of town. None of the gang worked more than several hours a week – they didn’t need to. A few dollars here or there kept their world spinning. The only real exception to the rule was Karl, who had a full time apprenticeship at Dean’s car garage.

But all of this small town goodness was about to change. Misty and Karl’s parents had filed for divorce. Their mom, Jill, had been having a clandestine affair with Councilman Hargreaves for the past two years. The teenagers still weren’t quite sure how their father had found out, but he had drove to the town hall immediately, and beat the Councilman into a bloody stew right there in the car park.

Mark Silveria had been lucky that the Councilman hadn’t pressed charges. A confused and contradictory man of God, Councilman Hargreaves accepted that he had trespassed against Mark and his union of marriage with Jill. This hadn’t stopped Jill moving in with Hargreaves, nor had it stopped Mark from filing for divorce.

It had been the talk of the town some months back, but the gossip mill had died down, and most people had forgotten or moved on to the next small town scandal. As the divorce finalized, it came as a shock to everyone – even their father, Mark – when Jill announced that her and Councilman Hargreaves were moving away, out east, to the city. They were going to start afresh.

The parents had been straight up with the kids. They were tols that it was entirely their choice who they decided to live with going forward, and nobody would be accused of picking sides. Karl, stubborn and loyal, immediately declared that he would stay in Morganstown with their father. He’d called his mother a whore that night, and even though Mark had given him a clip around the ear and a boot up the ass, he had been secretly glowing with pride that his son had sided with him.

Misty had let the decision eat her up inside for about a week before she finally professed that she would leave Morganstown for big city life. She expected this to cause a rift with Karl, if not with her father, but much to her surprise they were both supportive of her decision.

Jill and Councilman Hargreaves were set to leave town on the 30th of August. That gave Misty exactly two more weeks to enjoy in the Midwest countryside, messing about with her lifelong friends. She loved all of them equally, but part of her felt that she had began to outgrow Morganstown.

“So, what are you gonna do with your last two weeks in Morganstown, city girl?” Lisa had asked her as they drank crappy regional beer at The Lookout.

Slug, the monster of a man that was the landlord, wasn’t particularly hot on asking for ID, much to the delight of many teenagers in the town whose interested had turned to alcoholic consumption. Besides, the gang certainly looked older than their age. Misty rocked the rebellious college girl look, wearing denim, her dad’s Nirvana shirt, a nose ring, and washed out purple dye in her hair. Karl was a straight faced young man. Tall and sinewy, with jet black hair. Everyone in town assumed Tammy was much older than she was because she’d worked in that smutty lingerie store, even though she always wore dungarees and her mousy brown hair in pigtails. Lisa was in her grocery store uniform. Only Franco betrayed their true age group, with his football jacket and his sorry excuse for a wispy mustache.

“Yeah, you should totally do some mad shit that you’ve never done before,” Karl suggested, “we should go and egg Councilman Hargreaves’ house.”

His sister responded with a raised eyebrow.

“How old are you?” She asked him.

“Hey, I think it’s a pretty solid idea,” Franco agreed, “we can err, borrow, my dad’s car, and drive-by massacre that fucker’s house! It’ll be dank as hell!”

Karl leaned over the booth’s table and high-fived Franco.

“I can get us the eggs,” Lisa said. When Tammy gave her a disapproving look, she just shrugged.

“Councildick Hargreaves fucked my parents’ marriage, but so did my mom,” Misty said, peeling the label off the brown bottle, “but I gotta live with those two, so I don’t think plastering Hargreaves’ house with eggs is gonna do me any favours, guys.”

Franco, who always seemed to be overcompensating in some way, loudly ordered the gang another round of beers.

“Maybe we should hit Hutch’s gym,” he said, lowering his voice to hushed tones, “and hide in the locker rooms until he shuts up shop. We’ll take in, what, two crates of beer, and I’ll get some joints off Rex, and we can have an all night pool party!”

Tammy giggled.

“Hey maybe we can figure out how to turn the Jacuzzi and steam room back on too,” Lisa interjected, “that shit is so relaxing, but you can’t go in there without old guys staring at your butt.”

“What a butt it is, Lis,” Franco whooped, “can you blame those crusty ol’ fucks? Every day they sit in there like prunes looking at each other’s pendulum-ass ball sacks, and then little ol’ Lisa from the grocery store walks in with them pins and that ass, yo! I’m surprised you didn’t give any of those coots a heart attack.”

Misty shot beer out of her nose. Karl smacked her on the back as she coughed.

“Franco, you’re ridiculous,” she managed to say.

Slug arrived with the tray of beers. His stained apron barely contained his enormous belly.

“Don’t forget to tip your waitress,” he said with a voice of gravel.

He smiled, revealing a hideous maw in which only three or four rotten teeth remained.

“That guy gives me the creeps,” Tammy said, as Slug waddled back to the bar.

“Hey, give the guy a break,” Franco replied, snatching up another beer, “he lets us drink here, he’s good in my books.”

“I guess so,” Tammy shrugged, “but it feels like it’s only gonna be a matter of time before he puts a hand on my ass or something.”

Karl took a swig of his fresh beer.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said, “he probably doesn’t even think that way about y’all. Heck, I bet he hasn’t seen his own dick in 20 years.”

Franco slapped at the table, causing some of the nearest punters to turn and look disapprovingly at them.

The beers went down easily, as did the next round, and the round after that.

“Shit, I know what we could do before sending you off to the city,” Franco clicked his fingers, “fuckin’ light bulb moment over here, I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner.”

“Well tell us, dumb-ass,” Lisa prompted impatiently.

“Well, we take my dad’s car and drive out to the La Morte estate, I double dare your chicken ass to spend the night there!”

Lisa shook her head.

“Mmhmm, mother-fuck that,” she spat, “that place is dead-ass haunted.”

Franco smacked his forehead with his palm, causing his curls to shake.

“Well no shit,” he said, “that’s why I suggested it!”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Tammy said.

“Even so, that place is creepy as hell,” Karl admitted, “there’s something about it.”

“The fuck is wrong with y’all?” Franco was losing his cool, “This is why we should go there! Every teenager between here and three towns over knows how fuckin’ haunted La Morte estate is. You’d be the baddest bitch in the big city, Misty.”

She spun her empty bottle around in her hands.

“I ain’t afraid of any ghosts,” she said, “in fact, I’d very much like to meet one, wouldn’t you? I think that would be pretty cool. But let’s be real Franco, you think slick and cool city kids are gonna give a shit that I stayed in some random haunted house out in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere?”

“I’m not going to any damn haunted house,” Lisa insisted.

“Why are you so afraid of it?” Tammy asked. “That shit isn’t real. It’s just an empty house.”

“Just an empty house?” Franco mimicked, “Do I need to relay to your sorry ass the morbid tale of the La Morte estate?”

Tammy crossed her arms.

“That’s just old superstitious horseshit,” she said.

“Damn girl, you hurtin’ me,” Franco put his hand on his chest, “we’re talking here about the site of Satanic motherfucking ritual, multiple murders, hundreds of lesbian orgies. Shit, you can look all this up on the internet!”

“Is he joking?” Tammy asked everyone but Franco. “I’ve heard folk say it’s haunted up there but never any shit about Satanic rituals.”

Karl went to speak but Franco cut him off.

“Bitch, Kendra fucking La Morte, type that shit into your phone,” he shouted, “she was the wife of some rail tycoon guy, he was the guy who built the estate. She was some book-smart kinda lass, fascinated with the occult, they say. Often, when her husband was away conducting business, she commanded the entire estate, the whole manor was often taken over by Kendra and her horde of nymphs, who frolicked in the abundant pleasures of flesh and death, all in the name of our almighty lord of Satan! Some say her husband put her to death, having seen the horrors that she unleashed from the pits of hell!”

Tammy shook her head in disbelief. Misty had to admit that she was intrigued by the tale. She too, like Kendra La Morte, had a passing fascination in the occult. She’d tried multiple times over the years to get Karl to play with an Ouija board, but he would never give in and do it with her.

“You spin a good yarn, Franco,” Karl said, “but, you’re talking out of your ass. Kendra La Morte was very, very rich, and rumor has it that she was indeed a closet lesbian, who took many wives from Morganstown to her bed behind her husband’s back. And yes, her husband Terrence La Morte, the millionaire, did murder her, but that was in a drunken rage after he found out she’d been cheating on him for years. Aside from the bit with the lesbians, it’s not that exciting a tale really. Just more gossip, it don’t mean a thing to me if it’s over a hundred years old.”

They all bickered and shouted at each other, arguing over the particulars of Franco’s recounting and Karl’s correction.

“Will yous keep it down over there!?”

It was Slug, waving a dishcloth.

“It’s like a goddamn farmer’s market in here, some folks are tryna have a decent drink! Jeez!”

“Sorry Slug!” They chanted in unison. It was not the first time the grotesque landlord had told them off.

“I reckon we do it,” Misty said, full of courage.

“Do what?” Asked Karl.

“Are you dense?” She retorted, “Lets go see this La Morte house. Fuck it, in two weeks I’ll be in the city surrounded by coffee shops and yuppies.”

“Yeah boy!” Franco whooped.

Slug shot him a dark look.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” said Karl.

Outside they all hung around, deliberating whether to actually go to the estate or not. Tammy and Franco leaned against his dad’s car, a beaten up old Chevrolet. They both smoked cigarettes. Karl and Lisa were standing, and completing the circle was Misty, sitting on Karl’s motorbike.

“I ain’t gonna anywhere near that fuckin’ house,” Lisa protested.

“Don’t be a spoilsport,” Franco protested.

“I mean it,” she continued, “seriously you guys, fuck that shit.”

“Alright, shit, calm your tits, Jesus!” Franco had reached the end of his tether, “I’ll drop you home on the way out there then, you little pussy bitch.”

Lisa dropped her handbag and hit out at Franco. She rained slaps down on him, and he raised his arm to deflect her blows.

“Oh, shit!” He screamed, muffled, “she’s been possessed by the demon spirit of Kendra La Morte!”

Misty got up so Karl could sit on his bike, before climbing onto the back. She had a strange thought as she did so. She’d been lucky really, that no girls had taken his heart. It’d be them in her place right now instead. Not that she wouldn’t miss her brother when she moved away, but she felt bittersweet about everything. She’d had a good run with him. He couldn’t be the guy hanging around with his dorky little sister forever.

The bike shot into life with a rumble, shattering the docile silence of the small-town air. Karl revved a few times.

“Do you know the way?” Franco shouted, producing his car keys.

“Sure!” Karl responded, “Its out by Old Gregor’s farm, just off the highway turnpike, follow it about five minutes further down the road, then a small dirt track veers off to the left.”

They tore along the open road. The air was cool, but not to the point that Misty felt she would chill. She held onto her brother, watching as the road flew past beneath them. Around them, the landscape blurred, and they were free. Misty felt a pang that all of this would be gone forever when she moved to the city.

They reached the turnpike in just under ten minutes. It seemed that they were on the smaller road which branches off for much longer, but this probably had something to do with their speed. Karl eventually broke, and the bike eased to the left, coming down off the tarmac and into a dirt road.

The bike was now rumbling forward at a low enough speed that Misty could lift her head off her brother’s back and glance up ahead. She could see nothing, no house, no grounds – no estate, yet for the first time since the La Morte estate was brought up, she felt afraid. She was engulfed by an overwhelming sense of foreboding that was so strong she was tempted to throw herself from the back of the bike and start running in the other direction.

And then it was gone.

Karl betrayed no signs of experiencing the same thing as she just had. She thought that if her hands had been on the handle bars, she would have sling the bike around in a dusty u-turn and sped back to Morganstown.

Soon enough, something began to catch in the headlight of the bike as it came into view up ahead of them. It was a rusty old gate. Karl rolled the bike to a stop and stuck out his feet to stop them from falling over. After a few seconds, he killed the engine.

“We should wait here for the others,” he said.

Less than two minutes of eerie silence later, headlights were visible behind them. The pair could see the beams of the Chevrolet coming for miles off. Karl commented at how quick Franco had been dropping Lisa home.

The car trundled straight on by. The horn beeped several times and Misty waved at the vehicle but it didn’t stop. It plowed straight into the gates, which exploded open with little to no resistance. Only then did Franco’s break-lights cast the siblings in a red glow.

“Holy shit!” Karl exclaimed.

“His dad is gonna kill him,” Misty mused, climbing off the bike.

The car door burst open and Franco sprang from the seat.

“Woohoo!” He yelled, “Did you fuckin’ see that? Them shits crumpled like wet paper.”

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Karl asked, raising his arms in disbelief.

Franco twirled around on the spot.

“Brother, how else were we supposed to open the gates?” He asked.

The passenger door opened and Lisa climbed out of the car. She launched her handbag at Franco, which caught him in the back of the head.

“This motherfucker!” She screeched, “Drove on by my house real slow, then sped the fuck up as soon as I took off my seat belt to get out of the car.”

“I guess you just have to come into the house with us now,” Franco said, rubbing his head.

“Motherfucker this is basically kidnapping at this point!” Lisa was fuming, “I have to get up for work in the morning, I don’t want to deal with this bullshit, I’m not going inside any haunted house! I’m staying right here in the goddamn car.”

Franco raised his hands as if someone had pointed a gun at him.

“Alright, Christ,” he sighed.

Tammy pushed the driver’s seat forward and climbed out of the vehicle.

“Another minute in there alone with those two and I think I would have offed myself,” she said.

Karl gazed ahead, in the direction of the house. He wasn’t sure if he could make out its shape against the night. It was too dark.

“You got a flashlight in there, dickhead?” He asked Franco, pointing to the trunk of his car.

“Brother, do I look like the kinda goon that carries a fuckin’ flashlight?” Came his response, “The fuck would I need a flashlight for?”

He sniggered.

“Exploring haunted houses, maybe?” Misty suggested.

The four of them began their trek towards the house, leaving Lisa in the car with her cigarettes and the radio. It was nearly impossible to see in the darkness, but the vastness of the estate was quite something, and Misty was sure that it has once been a very beautiful place.

Slowly, the manor house loomed into view. It was as if some giant creature in the sky had emptied a tin of black paint down over it; the house was barely visible in the darkness, and its shape could only be made out due to the absence of stars and horizon.

“I wonder, when was the last time anyone was here?” Tammy mused aloud.

“Who cares?” Franco said, “All I know is that I’m a hundred years or so too late for the Satanic orgy.”

The manor itself had another fence around it, but this was much smaller, and mostly dilapidated. If there was ever a gate, it had long since been removed. Several large spruce trees were dotted around the grounds near the house, drawing it in. The estate had gone from wide and rolling, to a touch more claustrophobic as they entered the inner grounds. An owl hooted.

“Look at this place,” Misty said dreamily, “it’s like something out of a horror film.”

“And we’re walking right into it,” Karl reminded.

Any foreboding that Misty was feeling had now completely eroded. She felt instead a sense of purpose; a sense of adventure. It was almost as if she was being drawn to the house.

As they approached the steps leading up to the veranda, which appeared to snake all the way around the building, the four of them stopped and assessed the situation.

“How do we get inside?” Tammy said, breaking the silence.

“Leave that to me, baby!” Franco replied, shooting off up the steps.

His footfalls on the wooden deck seemed to send cracks out into the still night air as sharp as shots from a rifle.

The front door loomed before him; heavy, dark wood and metal brackets. Franco reached out for the knocker, and struck the base three times in quick succession. If his footsteps had sounded like rifle shots, in comparison the knocking sounded like shotgun blasts all around them.

“Jesus Christ!” Karl shouted, lowering his voice comically to a whisper as he did.

“Hellooo!?” Franco howled. “Is anybody home?”

He tried the handle. Much to his surprise, the door swung inward with a creak.

“Well, fuck me,” he said, wandering inside without waiting another second.

The others shared a glance before following up the steps and entering the house.

The first thing Misty noticed was how cold it was inside the hallway. It was as if they had stepped inside a walk-in refrigerator unit like the one down on Old Gregor’s farm. She half expected to see her breath forming in front of her.

The hallway was ornate, and huge, but now lay in a state of ruin. Drapes hung haphazard, some of which were ripped and broken, and an enormous chandelier hanging from the ceiling had most of its glass pieces missing. Some were crushed into the deep crimson carpet which ran across the hall, which indicated to Misty that people had been here since the building was condemned. What did strike her as odd, was the absence of graffiti or vandalism. Surely if it was this easily accessible, generation after generation of teenagers would have had their way with the place?

Everyone in Morganstown knew the story of the La Morte estate, but being out of town, up the highway, also placed the estate within easy reach of curious youths from Croverton or even Homerville.

“How this place never sold on, I’ll never know,” Karl said, looking around in awe. “A lot of love, and this here’s a fine home.”

“The fuck you know about a fine home?” Franco spat. “Your momma lives in an apartment with some dickhead Councilman and your dad had to put the townhouse on the market and find somewhere he could afford better.”

“Hey, what the fuck?” Misty asked.

“Another word about our parents Franco and I’ll take out some of those teeth of yours,” Karl declared, with an air of calm.

Franco shook his head.

“Jeez, why are you fuckers so highly strung?” He said.

“This is hardly the time nor the place,” Tammy interrupted, “can we just have a look around this place and get the fuck outta here?”

“Yeah, okay,” Franco agreed, “screw you two fuckin’ crybabies.”

He trotted up the grandiose staircase. It creaked a little beneath him. All of the floored surfaces, upstairs and down, were the same dark wood.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Karl asked.

“Upstairs, obviously,” he shouted, without looking back, “gonna see if I can find any of Madame Kendra’s panties.”

Tammy sighed.

“I’ll go with shit for brains,” she said, starting after him, “if you find anything cool down here buzz my phone?”

Karl nodded. He whipped out his phone and turned on the torch light, sending cutting rays of white light into the blueish hue of the hallway. Squinting, he turned the screen and looked at it.

“Hey, Tammy?” He called, “There doesn’t seem to be much in the way of any bars up in this place.”

“If you find something, just scream,” Franco replied from somewhere up on the landing.

Holding the torch before him, Karl made the decision to head left out of the hallway, into what seemed to be a dining room. Misty quickly followed at his heels.

“You’ve got no signal at all?” She asked.

“Not a sausage,” he replied.

Tammy stopped at the top of the staircase, where the steps split left and right up onto the landing. She stared at the wall in front of her, where three paintings had once hung. They had left rectangular marks on the wall after years of residency there.

“Hey, Franco, wait up!”

A shiver ran up her spine and she took the remaining steps up to the landing quicker than she’d like to have ever admitted. Now that she was up onto the main landing, which ran in a full loop around the four walls, she still could not see which direction Franco had gone.

“Franco?” She called again.

There was no response. She proceeded with caution, expecting him to jump out at her from behind a clock or an open doorway.

The air seemed crisp and cool, as if the cold was penetrating her lungs. It was a touch uncomfortable, but also quite refreshing, like standing on a mountain top on a clear autumn day.

She was reaching the first off-shoot of the landing. Directly below her was where the gang had stood when they had entered the house. She peered over the edge. A shadow moved across the entrance of the dining room. It was so quick that Tammy second guessed whether she had even seen anything. She tapped the rim of her glasses.

“Everything cool down there, guys?” She asked.

There was no response.

“Misty? Karl? Are you there?”

The silence crushed her. Gingerly, she turned her attention back to the landing, and peered down the corridor to her left. It was as cold and dusty looking as any other part of the house she’d seen so far, and doors peppered the walls, heading off into rooms front and back. Behind her, another corridor did the same into the right wing of the house.

Tammy made her way down the corridor, running her fingers along the wallpaper as she went. She stopped at the third door on the left. It was the only one that she had passed that had been ajar. She peered through the opening, leaning in closer for a look inside, but she couldn’t see anything.

“Franco? Are you there?”

She pressed lightly on the door and it opened inwards without a sound. The room was plain, save for a small double bed, a bedside cabinet, and a large dark wood wardrobe which stood in the left corner. Curtained windows allowed in a little light, which brightened a patch on the bed covers, and not much else. If anything, the light just accentuated the blueish hue that seemed to overlay the omnipresent darkness that engulfed the whole house.

Tammy found it odd that the bed was made up, but had to admit that the covers looked absolutely ancient. Stepping slowly into the room, she noticed that something had been placed onto one of the sets of pillows. It was a piece of paper. Not wanting to disturb anything, she slid quietly over to the side of the bed and peered down at the crumpled page, which looked as if it had been torn from a diary. There was something written on it. Her blood ran cold.

“Welcome, Tammy.” – it read.

There was a sharp crack as the door swung closed behind her. Tammy as much as jumped out of her skin, and turned on the spot. There, by the closed door, stood a woman, still as an apparition. Wait… *was* she an apparition? She had the same blueish hue as the room. Oh shit. Oh fuck.

Tammy’s skin turned cold. There were no more hairs to stand. She immediately felt like she was doused in sweat.

“Welcome, Tammy,” the woman said, mimicking the note.

As she spoke, there seemed to be something out of place, as if there was a split second delay between the woman’s mouth moving to speak, and the sound of her voice reaching Tammy’s ears. It was like when you watched fireworks from really far away. The voice didn’t so much come from the woman – or the apparition, whatever it was – but bled into the room itself. It came from all around the room.

“H-hello?” She replied feebly.

Tammy had always been a staunch atheist. With the stubbornness of youth she had always loudly discredited those who believed in a God, a heaven… an afterlife.

Tammy took a moment to study the visitor (or was she actually the visitor herself?). The woman wore an ornate necklace, thick and heavy of chain, hanging low around her neck and framing the mountains of her breasts. Tammy was sure a lot of the necklace’s true beauty was being lost through the medium in which she was able to see the woman. She was wearing some sort of elaborate dressing gown or old time bedroom wear, a garment of which Tammy could not name. She appeared to be wearing a corset under it and … nothing down below. She was bare from her waist to her feet. A great smudge of a bush met Tammy’s gaze.

“We’re glad you came,” the women spoke, or didn’t speak.

Tammy wiped her hands on the denim of her dungarees.

“We?” She managed.

“Yes,” a second voice answered.

Another woman now stood by the wardrobe. Had she been there along? She was dressed much like the first, but where the first appeared to have long black hair tied back into a thick braid, the second had great dark circles around her eyes, and her hair seemed to be a blonde or silver color.

Tammy gulped.

“Who are you?” She asked the pair.

An echo swelled in the room before bursting into a voice form.

“Ectonymphs,” said the voice of the second woman.

Tammy didn’t know what that meant.

“Eternal servants of Mistress La Morte,” explained the first.

“Are you ghosts?” Tammy asked.

The first woman turned and looked at the second. Tammy was sure that for a moment, a glimmer of a smirk danced across the woman’s lips.

“Something like that,” said the first.

“It’s difficult to explain,” said the second.

The first woman turned back to face Tammy.

“Don’t worry, it’ll all make sense, soon enough,” she said.

The first woman, with the black braid, took a step towards Tammy. The move was soundless, the floorboards made no sound beneath her feet. Tammy could just about make out a spectral blue glow around her.

“W-what do you want with me?” Tammy stammered, “Please don’t hurt me.”

She pinched herself, to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, or going mad. Yep, she was still Tammy, and she was still here, in the old manor.

“Oh, my sweet dear, we would never hurt you,” the first said.

“Unless that’s what she wants,” the silver haired woman said to her other.

There was something about the tone of her voice that cut at Tammy’s core like shards of ice.

“That’s not what I want!” Tammy felt the need to clarify.

“We know,” said the first, “Kassandra is toying with you, darling. She has a sadistic streak.”

The silver haired woman laughed, and the echoes of her mirth danced around the room.

“If I had the strength, Kleo, I would remind you of your place at my heel…” she threatened, in a voice full of malice.

Kleo, the first, shot Kassandra, the second, a look of distaste, before turning her ghostly head in a blur, and facing Tammy once more.

“We know all about you, Tammy,” she said, “and I’m terribly afraid that we have come to you today because we need your help.”

“Oh, yes, we require your most urgent assistance,” purred Kassandra.

She took slow steps away from the wardrobe and strode to the side of her counterpart. Their attire was identical, but the women were somewhat different. Kleo had a fuller figure. Child bearing hips, Tammy thought. It was what men said about women her shape. Kassandra was slimmer and harsher, colder in the face. Her tuft of exposed pubic hair was shorter, and a silvery white like her hair.

“We always welcome visitors here at the estate,” Kassandra continued, “but it’s such a terrible shame that we do not get that many.”

“We need your help, Tammy,” Kleo repeated, taking another step towards her.

Tammy took a step backwards, and hit the wall. Fear had began to give way to curiosity, but again it coiled in her belly. She wanted to break and run, but she was froze to the spot.

“We know you like women,” Kassandra said, as plain as day, “your friends don’t know this, but we do.”

“We do,” Kleo echoed, almost as a whisper.

“But you’ve never been with a woman, have you?” Kassandra almost accused, “Such a waste. A young, pretty thing like you, must be overflowing with the glow. Give it to us!”

Tammy didn’t know what they meant.

“We want you to glow for us,” Kleo explained, “we feed off of it, and we are so very, very hungry.”

Kleo licked her lips.

“Starved,” Kassandra added.

“We can teach you how to glow, woman to woman,” Kleo said.

She took another step. The air seemed colder. Tammy could not press herself harder against the wall.

“Please, I don’t know what you mean, I-,” Tammy was close to tears, “I’m scared. Please, leave me go.”

“But you’ve only just got here,” Kassandra pointed out, taking another step closer herself.

“Don’t be scared, sweet girl,” Kleo said softly, “once you’ve begun to glow, you’ll never want to leave.”

Tammy started to cry.

“Please, I don’t understand, let me go!” She protested.

“Shhh,” Kassandra hissed, more out of impatience than genuine sympathy, “Kleo, show her what we mean.”

Kleo smiled. It was a great friendly smile.

“Please…” Tammy spluttered.

Kleo took another step forward. She was right up close to Tammy now, and the air was freezing. The space around the woman appeared to ripple and fold, as if there was gas leaking into the room.

She wagged her finger at Tammy, right in her face. It blurred as it moved through the air. Drawing her arm down, and never breaking eye contact with the petrified teenager, Kleo ran her fingers through the hair on her sex, and plunged her fingers into the crease between her legs.

She seemed to be moving them around, massaging her labia. She sighed, and produced her fingers. She held them close to Tammy’s face, and there was warmth coming from them.

“This is the energy that connects us to your realm,” Kassandra said, “thanks to the eternal magicks of our Mistress, Kendra La Morte.”

Kleo reached out and touched Tammy’s face, tracing a circle around her lips. Tammy couldn’t feel the fingers, but she felt the heat of the wetness as Kleo softly rubbed it on her mouth. It smelt sweet, and vital. The heat quickly turned to cold.

“Glow with us, and make us strong again,” Kleo purred, removing her hand from her face and returning it to the folds of skin between her thighs.

Kassandra too stroked at her cunt.

“For we are devoid of life, and cannot crest,” Kassandra said, “we need you to give us life again, Tammy. Is that so much to ask? We will lie with you, and make love with you only as women know how, but you must glow for us first, fill our hearts and souls with the heat of your lust and desire, and bring life to us once more!”

“It has been over a hundred years since I have crested,” Kleo sighed, “I do not glow enough to be able to do so, and it saddens me so.”

“You know your own body well, you are a girl of 18 years,” Kassandra continued, “you know well the fires of release; the ride that takes you to the crest of the hill and the glowing sunshine that fills you as you go over. We have been denied such pleasures in death, but you can bring us a healthy glow, and we shall all eventually glow as three!”

“I- , what are you asking me to do?” Tammy was shaking.

Kassandra stopped stroking herself and walked right over to the girl. She leant up against the wall alongside her, and ran a finger from Tammy’s crotch, up across her belly and up to her neck. Tammy felt nothing.

“Do as you do when you are alone, when the young women you crave so much fill your mind,” Kassandra whispered, “with your pleasure, we too will grow stronger, more present in your plane, and we will join you. I will teach you pleasure that you could not begin to understand.”

She placed a transparent hand on her crotch, massaging her through the denim. Again, Tammy could feel nothing.

“What about that girl downstairs?” Kassandra asked.

“Ooh, she’s a pretty one,” said Kleo, “I love her hair.”

“Misty?”

“Yes, Misty,” Kleo said, “what a beautiful name.”

Tammy thought of Misty creeping around downstairs. She thought of what she looked like beneath her clothes. She’d always found her friend to be very pretty.

“She completely bald, you know,” Kassandra said, “I say a woman should be proud of her bush, but it seems to me you might want to know that there’s not a hair on her. You younger ladies seem to prefer that.”

“Smooth to the touch,” Kleo chimed in.

“How do you know? What have you done with her?”

“We have our ways,” Kassandra teased, “we can see everything in this house. Our eyes are everywhere at once. No harm has come to your friend.”

“She is not intact, your friend,” Kleo said, “she has been taken already by another, many times. I can sense it. Her sex, it smells different than yours.”

“Does that make you glow?” Kassandra inquired, still rubbing at her pussy with a ghostly hand, “Imagining your friend in her throes, in the arms of her lover, writhing beneath him…”

Tammy had to admit it was a pleasant thought.

“He grabs at her breasts, crazed with lust like a beast in heat,” she continued, “he throws his fuck into her, deep into her shaven wetness, she wraps her legs around him to better receive his come.”

“She doesn’t want that,” Kleo interrupted, “she wants the girl for herself, she wants to taste her sweet flesh, be it her soft lips or the wet mount ‘tween her legs.”

Tammy tried to take Kassandra’s hand but hers fell straight through it. Instead, she gently traced along her lips through the fabric.

“That’s it!” Kleo exclaimed, jumping forward to join them both against the wall, “I can feel your lust! Awaken your senses, sweet Tammy, and glow for us!”

Tammy located her clit and pressed against it, rubbing in a circular motion. She was surprised to find that she felt wet, her lips moved beneath the fabric in such a way that they were obviously thick with the secretions of lust. This was madness, she thought, but she could not stop herself.

Both of the women whispered sweet nothings into each of her ears; promises of endless orgasm, of fulfilling lust, teasing her with Misty in compromising scenarios with many men and women both. Her breathing quickened and so did the pace of her fingers. She let out a little squeak.

“Oh my,” Kassandra said, “we may be on the right track.”

“She’s climbing that hill for us,” Kleo chirped with excitement.

“Yes, She is,” Kassandra noted, “keep coming, dear, closer and closer to the crest, we’ll be there at the top with you, and we shall roll over into the verdant hills together as three.”

In her minds eye, Misty’s chest heaved as she tweaked her nipples, writhing as Tammy’s tongue explored her womanly folds of flesh. I never knew you felt this way about me, she would say. Why didn’t you ever say anything? We could have been doing this for years…

Tammy let out a sharp moan, and then another, and another, each with lessening intensity.

“I think, I just came… a little,” she said, through a deep exhale.

“Oh, we know dear,” Kassandra said, nodding at Kleo.

Kleo was absorbed in herself. She was marveling at her own hands, which she held up before her. Somehow, the blue hue and watery air around her seemed to have lessened significantly.

“Oh, Tammy, I am filled with your glowing energy!” She howled, “Oh, how I have longed for this! Touch me!”

Kleo reaches out and grabbed at Tammy’s free wrist. Cold fingers wrapped around her.

“Good grief, Kassandra, it worked!” She yelled, “It really worked!”

Some queer madness overcame her. Laughing almost to the point of tears, Kleo put her face close to Tammy’s, and stroked her cheek.

“To touch… my sweet girl, you do not know how long it has been since I could touch another…”

She leaned in, and kissed Tammy full on the lips, her eyes closing as their lips locked. She was cold, but warmth stirred in her. Tammy was frightened by her intensity, but there remained a fire still within her that allowed her tongue to probe back with genuine curiosity.

“Not yet,” Kassandra said sternly, causing Kleo to break off the kiss, “I too must return to strength. Girl you must find it in you to crest once more, and we can reward you with infinite pleasure, you and your friends all.”

“I-, I don’t know if I can, right away,” Tammy replied, looking at her feet, “I really must find my friends, and tell them-”

“Kassandra, don’t you see?” Kleo talked over her, “I am returned to life! I can serve you once more! It would be an honor to glow for you as I did so many times in life, my love.”

Kassandra broke into a wicked smile. Something about it was inherently evil, Tammy thought. She had warmed so much more to Kleo, even though she seemed much more erratic.

Kleo marched to the bed, turned and plonked herself down. Tammy noticed that her steps had now caused the floors to creak under her very real weight, and the bed sagged slightly under her bottom.

Kleo immediately spread her legs and started working at her cunt with her busy fingers. She was whipping herself into quite a lather.

“It’s been so long, Kassandra,” she pined, “you won’t believe how good it feels. I can feel the build up already.”

Kassandra stood before her, looking down at the woman on the bed, hands on hips. There was silence in the room, aside from the sticky wet noises being made by Kleo’s fingers and the rise and fall of her breathing. It seemed to Tammy that they had forgotten about her. As exciting as it was to watch this beautiful woman from another time bring herself to orgasm, Tammy had an overwhelming urge to flee. The situation was too strange.

Kleo started to come. Ejaculate splashed out of her as she bucked and moaned, two fingers sliding in and out of her hole at a rapid pace.

“My, that did not take very long,” Kassandra commented, “I am basking in your glow, dear. I feel your lust flowing through me!”

Kleo composed herself, and getting up from the bed, she embraced Kassandra. The pair hugged tightly.

“It shall be as it was,” Kleo murmured into the new, warming flesh of her counterpart.

“It shall,” Kassandra responded.

Both of them turned to face Tammy, who stood embarrassed against the wall, feeling damp in her dungarees.

“Now, about that infinite pleasure we promised you,” Kassandra said, once again coming towards the girl.

“Oh, no, by all means, don’t worry about me,” Tammy fumbled, “I mean, I just came, and this whole thing is happening so fast, I can’t really process-”

Kassandra plunged down onto her face. Their lips locked with ferocious intensity. The woman’s kiss was deep and passionate, and a glowing warmth spread through Tammy’s body; it poured down her throat like hot cocoa, and spread throughout her, encompassing her, out from the mouth of the ghostly stranger, filling every extremity of her body.

All worry and discomfort fell away from her. She lost herself in the woman’s mouth, their tongues danced and their bodies intertwined. They writhed like snakes, Tammy greedily reaching for the wet bush between Kassandra’s legs. The woman did not shy away as Tammy slid two fingers into her dripping meat, she only embraced the girl all the more, pouring fire into her from her hot mouth.

They disconnected, and suddenly everything was cold again. Tammy caught her breath. It seemed shallow, like she couldn’t adequately fill her lungs. She pawed at her chest, but it almost felt numb to the touch.

“Did it work?” Kleo asked. She seemed excited.

“Yes, she is with us now,” Kassandra confirmed, “come, young Tammy, let us go forth into the infinite pleasures and become better acquainted with one another.”

Tammy looked at her hands. They had the same blue hue as the women.

“Wait… what have you done?”

Before either of them could answer, she turned to the wall and there she saw herself, crumpled in a pile on the floor. Her head had lolled forward and her glasses had fallen onto the floor.

“Your pleasure will be infinite now, my dear,” Kassandra said, snaking an arm around her waist.

Staring down at her own seemingly lifeless body, Tammy let out a curdling scream.

THE END