CANTERVILLE – 13 MOONS 1 by Kparc1212

Feature Writer: kparc1212

Feature Title:  CANTERVILLE – 13 MOONS 1

Published: 07.03.2022

Story Codes: Erotic Horror

Synopsis: This is no dream, but the beginning

Canterville – 13 Moons 1

My name is Jenny. I’ve just turned 19. I’m 5.7, long, light brown hair, hazel eyes, 115 lbs. Everyone says I’m attractive, but I don’t know if that’s true.

My story is so surreal, so strange, I don’t think anyone will ever believe me, at times, I don’t believe it myself.

What happened to me over a year ago, and it kept happening, in recurring, evolving dreams, nightmares, makes it real to me. Maybe they were just dreams or maybe they were something else, I don’t truly know.

I do know, that after last night, I have an awareness, a sense, they are not coming back.

For over the past year I’ve been afraid to fall sleep and then again, anticipating, yearning for the next full moon. That is when the visions would come alive. They were always so vivid, so real. The full moon, just over one year ago, that is when it all started. That’s when it all began.

Both my parents are schoolteachers, they always had summers off to travel, dragging my brother, Jake, two years my junior, and myself along.

They loved to go exploring back roads, small towns, antique and curio shops. We’d stay at little B and B’s.

This year was special for two reasons, first, it would be our last as a family together, after we got back home in early August, I am heading out of state to college and freedom, second, instead of spending the whole time driving around in out of the way obscure, places, our parents promised us, after weaving our way from our home in upper state New York, through the middle of Delaware, we’d stop in Ocean City, Maryland for a week at the beach. Usually, we just kept going for the entire month, checking out tired little towns. This year, there was light at the end of the tedious boredom.

I remember when we pulled off Route 13 into the town of Oak Noll, in the middle of nowhere, Delaware. It was typical of the places we would stop. Small old town section, with a newer section adjacent. Jake and I smiled at each other when we passed a Walmart and Target. Signs of civilization.

After finding a B&B on the far side of the town, we settled in. Mom and dad, of course said they wanted to explore to shops. Jake wanted to play his video games. I just wanted to take a walk in the lovely little park next to the house and stretch my legs.

It was a little after one when I started down the path. There was an old wooden sign marking the park’s entrance, “CANTERVILLE”. It looked beautiful and inviting with its combination of various sizes of oak and sweet, scented pine trees

It was a charming, quiet, somewhat hot afternoon. I was wearing a t-shirt and cutoff jeans and walking shoes. The trees canopy provided the shade.

After about fifteen minutes I noticed a man and a dog walking up the path towards me. The dog spotted me too and bounded toward me. I saw it was a golden retriever.

The man shouted, “He’s friendly.” I bent down to greet the pup and was met with a slobbering kiss.

I petted the friendly little guy. “His name is Buck.”, said his owner. The man was about six feet, stocky, wearing a short sleeve shirt and pants.

I smiled up at him. He looked down at me and asked, “You staying at the Brentwood place?”

I smiled and answered, “Yes”, still petting the pup.

He then said matter-a-factly, “Make sure you’re out of the woods by dusk, there’s a full moon tonight and…” He didn’t finish, but repeated, “Just make sure you’re not out here after the sunsets.”

I nodded, “Okay”. Stood. “Nice to meet you, Buck.” Gave him one last pet, told the man, “Well, see ya.”, waved and walked down the path, thinking, what could be so scary out here, maybe it was a law or something.

Back at the B&B, I showered, read, and about 7 we all went to a little diner to eat. The few people in the place gave us curious looks. Just before 8, everyone in the place got up to leave.

The waitress came over with our check and said, “You staying at Brentwood?”.

My dad replied we were.

“Good idea to stay in tonight and relax. Sunsets around 8:30.”

We all smiled at each other and when we left my mom said, “Well, that was queer.” We all laughed and went back to the B&B.

Mom and dad were in bed by 9, telling us to get to bed early cause they wanted to be on the road by 7.

Jake was back playing his video games and I didn’t feel like reading or watching TV so I told him I was going for a moonlit walk. He looked at me, smiled, waved his fingers in the air and repeating what the waitress said in a made-up scary voice, “Good idea to stay in tonight,” adding, “BOOOOOHAHAHA!”.

I gave him the finger and left.

The night air was warm and the full moon’s light was bright. I could see the path I had taken this morning quite clearly. Not giving a second thought to the two “warnings” I’d heard, I strolled down the path, past the CANTERVILLE sign.

The sound of the crickets filled the woods. As I continued further, frogs croaking from a pond mixed with the bugs sounds. I looked up and saw the bright full moon through the branches of the tree canopy above me. The fresh scent of pine, warmness of the night air, the soft moonlight, made for a picturesque walk.

The suddenness of silence startled me. I stopped and looked around me. I thought to myself, ‘Odd, like, what just happened?’

The woods were stealthily quiet, only streams of moon light, filtered through the trees. I listened hard for any sound. Nothing.

A branch cracked. I turned to the direction it came from, right down the path I had just walked. I squinted. There seemed to be a dark figure slumped in the middle of the path. It started to rise, facing me.

Looking hard at the silhouette, the moonlight outlining its form. It stood erect, it was tall, its head was large and furry. It didn’t seem to have a neck, just broad slumping shoulders. It had pointy ears on the top of its head. Long arms were hanging at its sides with short, sharp shaped paws. Then his eyes opened, glowing blood red, staring back at me.

It started to move toward me, first slowly, then it paced quickened. I took a step back, but then froze. As the thing moved faster, it lowered itself on to all fours and ran straight at me.

I stumbled backward, fell on my back into some brush. I tried to scream but was to consumed with fear.

Suddenly the beast was on top of me. Crouching between my thin, widespread bare thighs. Its claws on either side of me, its red eyes glaring down above my face. Its fur’s pungent, mucky, swamp odor almost made me gag.

I couldn’t move, I was so scared. The beast moved its face closer to mine. It opened its mouth, growled, exposing its sharp, stained, fanged teeth, its breath as foul as its fur.

Drool streamed from its mouth. My eyes staring up at it. What is it?

The thing lowered its muzzle inches from my face and made a distinctive sniffing sound.

Its broad, long, dark tongue seemed to unfold from his mouth. He titled his head slightly, its rough, slobbery tongue licked my neck, up the side if my face, as if it was tasting me.

The beast raised his head and looked down at my body lying on the earth beneath it. It lowered its head to my chest, sniffed me again, letting out a low growl.

I raised up slightly. I glanced down and between its legs I saw a dark appendage with a knobby head emerge from between its legs. OH GOD, it was his cock, growing.

He grunted down at me. His muzzle sniffed down over my stomach, smelling me. His head went lower. I pulled myself up on my elbows, thinking maybe I should try and get up, run, escape. He raised his face, his eyed glowed red, he let out a low growl, as if knowing what I was thinking, warning me not to move. He lowered his head again, sniffing loudly, taking in my scent. His head moved between my outstretched thighs. He took his thick knobby wet tongue and ran it over my inner thighs. Then he moved to my other thigh and did the same. His tongue back in his mouth, his animal lips, seemed to smack together. Tasting me.

Suddenly, he pressed his muzzle into my crotch. I could see his nostrils flare as he inhaled the scent between my legs. He pushed his snout against my pussy, moving his head from side to side. Poking at me. He shoved his muzzle harder into my crotch.

I pushed my hands into the dirt, trying to force myself back from his attack. He looked up at me, eyes glaring, moved his face up from my wide-open thighs, his mouth snarling.

He moved his paws up my sides, pushing himself over me until his muzzle was almost touching my face. I turned my head away from his. Again, he sniffed my face, my hair. He raised up to look down on my helpless, prostrate body. He looked at my chest. His paw moved from the ground next to me, he reached out for me, snarled up at me. He extended three claws from his paw, slid it between my skin and t-shirt, pulling the collar down. The claws going through the thin fabric, easily ripping it. He looked down to see my exposed bra covered breast. His claws started to pull and rip my shirt off me.

“AAAUUUGGGHHH!” I screamed.

His head jerked up looking at me. His saliva splattering across my face, my hair, my mouth. A burning sensation shot through my lips, tongue and gums where his drool had landed. He raised his head and the howl that followed, filled the forest around us. He moved his claw from my shirt, raised it high. I closed my eyes, turned my head, waiting for him to strike me, to claw me.

“THERE HE IS!” A loud, sharp, shout came from behind the thing.

The beast reared up, looked back, its fur shimmering in the moonlight. I could see beams of light from flashlights striking around him and me.

“DON’T SHOOT! SOMEONE’S ON THE GROUND!”, the voice continued. The beast turned back to look at me, growled, grouched down and swiftly bounded away on all fours into the brush.

I laid there crying.

A group of three men, all carrying rifles, were standing above me. One crouched down, “Did he bite you, scratch you?”

I was sobbing. Now holding onto my shoulders, he was looking me in the eyes, asked again, urgency in his voice, “Did he bite you, scratch you?”.

I tearfully answered, “No.”

“Thank God.” He said, looking at the other two men standing over me.

One of them spoke, “She’s staying at the Brentwood place, I talked to her earlier, told her not to walk out here.” I knew his voice; it was the man with the dog I’d met before.

“Here let’s get you up and back to the inn. You’re okay now, you’re safe.”. He turned to the other two men. “Radio the others, tell them we’re taking her back and for them to be careful.”

Two of them lifted me off the ground on to my feet. I was shaking and still sobbing. “What was that?” I begged.

The man I had met earlier replied, “A rabid dog.”

I looked at him, “A rabid dog?”

“That’s why we’re out here, hunting him. Now let’s get you back.”

The rest of the night was a blur.

My parents awaken and both equally angry and concerned about me. My brother seemed irritated his gaming was interrupted. They all reacted to my stench left on me from the “dog”. My mom and dad were surprised I didn’t have a scratch since my t-shirt was ripped so badly. My mom asked the B&B owner to throw out my stinky, ripped clothes.

I took a long hot shower. The beasts face staring back at me every time I closed my eyes. When I stepped out of the shower, I dried off, wrapped a towel around me. I swiped the mirror with my hands and looked at my face. I had a red blotch on the corner of my mouth that looked like a cold sore. I touched it; it was tender. I opened my mouth and saw the same blotch on my tongue and another in my gum. Then I remembered. The searing pain I felt when the “dog” drool had splattered onto my face.

I was too tired to show mom and dad, so I thought I’d just wait till morning. I got in bed. Mercifully, I fell asleep in a few minutes, exhausted.

My last thoughts were of the beast and his warm nasty breath on my face and then thinking, that was no dog. I dreamt of the beast, he was standing on the path, where I first seen him.

In the dream he was enclosed on a mist, just standing at a short distance, with those glowing red eyes staring at me. I don’t remember being afraid as I watched him.

When I awoke the next morning, I ran my tongue over the corner of my lip to feel if the sore had grown, but I felt nothing. When I looked in the mirror, it was gone, so where the ones on my tongue and gum. I thought, strange, but good or did I just imagine them.

My parents had no problem getting me ready to get out of there. My brother teasing me about the night before. Mom finally, angerly, telling him to knock it off.

A shudder of panic came over me as we drove out of Oak Noll and down Route 13. I saw that things face in my mind, thinking, I never want to go back to Canterville Park ever again.

The beginning.

THE END OF CHAPTER ONE

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