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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1002444-Promises
Rated: 18+ · Book · Horror/Scary · #2222317
Invisible matters of the mind turned real into the written word.
#1002444 added January 20, 2021 at 6:15am
Restrictions: None
Promises
SCREAMS!!! daily win

“You found a new one. Are you hurt? God. I saw it happen.” The voice echoing down to Myles Romney sounded delighted, filled with glee. “Cedar Mountain is locally famous for them opening up out of nowhere, disappearing as fast as they are born. What do you see?”

“I’m just shook up. Get me out of here, will you, friend? I never heard anything so lovely as your voice.” Myles knew about the famed sinkholes. He’d been shown the aftereffects of a few during previous hikes. Sharp rocky teeth bit into each other where the earth had been shorn away, leaving bowl-like depressions that dipped into what looked like solid ground.

He looked up into the small circle of sky, spit out a drool of dirt and waited for a reply. What he heard was a faint rumbling sound. “I should have eaten.” He rubbed his empty tummy, listening to it gurgle back at him.

“I’ll have to go get help. Stay there. Don’t go away,” The voice laughed. It was female, sounded familiar.

“Who are you? How long?” But she was gone, leaving a trickle of falling sharp edged pebbles bouncing to carve themselves against his upraised face.

“Thanks a lot. Now, I’m bleeding.” He tasted his own warm rich blood seeping into his mouth. Strangely enough, his stomach stopped talking to him at the same moment. “Nothing I can do but wait.”

There was no warning. His feet went out from under him. It felt like falling down an elevator shaft to the next floor. The flight took the air out of his lungs, left him laying on his back. The sky above was eye size, nothing more.

Stunned into silence and afraid to move, he lay there panting, listening to himself breathe as the new world around him stopped trembling. “I could die down here if that happens again,” He didn’t know much about the geography of the area and less about sinkholes. The main attraction to him was getting away from the college town down below this mountain.

It was his first year teaching. One of his students began flirting with him in class on the first day, wearing short skirts, flashing her thighs, eyes bold with promise, tongue flicking hungrily at him, hard to ignore.

Word got around to the wrong people in the administration. Take care of it, he was told. We don’t allow that kind of activity. It gives us a bad rap. Other students are complaining about special treatment and how it might be getting earned.

Miles thought fast, suggested the sexy young coed be transferred to another basic English class. There were still two weeks for schedules to be adjusted. That would take care of the matter. It didn’t.

Missy Thomas began stalking him. Leaving funny little presents, photos of her in provocative dress inside his apartment on his own bed. She knew the geography of his morning walks, of where he shopped, of where he worked out. The envelopes with the little red hearts stuck to them appeared randomly, the first gave him a sinking feeling worse than anything he’d felt in his life, until now.

He’d left his own notes denying interest in their place as the number piled up into a small mountain, each one more lascivious than the last. Evidence found of dallying with a student would mean expulsion and ruination of his career. He was desperate to have it out with her.

Instead of slowing down, the stalking increased. Pairs of panties dripping with her scent lay waiting for him on his pillow, the sheets wrestled into the shape of an unknown country of imaginary love making. Miles stopped his maid service. Hardly went out anymore. There was talk about his distracted teaching in his classes.

He had to be alone and think this out. “I’m alone all right. In the bottom of a pit unable to get out.” His hike had taken him off the beaten paths of the trails. He wasn’t quite sure where he was, except that he was trapped in a dangerous situation, one as bad or worse than the one he’d temporarily escaped from.

“I’m back, Miles. Can you hear me? I can’t see you any longer. Where did you go?”

It was the voice of Missy Thomas, his stalker. She’d followed him. He stopped himself from calling out by pure infuriated will power.

“Did you get out somehow? I hurried as fast as I could.”

A flare brightened the eye of sky, grew brighter as the fire twirled end over end landing between Miles spread legs. The heat made him jerk and curse.

“There you are. Ooh. You look so enticing. I’m coming down to help you, Miles.” Dirt began falling, shed off ricocheting rocks. The sides of the sinkhole began caving in.

“Stop. You’re burying me alive,” Miles cried out. She didn’t.

Missy Thomas, all of her, fell into his arms. “I saved you.” She pulled his head down by his hair and kissed him, tongue searching hungrily, giving him mouth to mouth.

Her body moved against him. Miles surprised himself. His body responded. Missy clung to him with a groan, hands searching wanting more. “You are mine.”

Then, she disappeared beneath him. Miles clung to the rope snaking against his reaching grasp. The blue sky eye widened above him. In a matter of minutes he was free from the unknown territory of the sink hole and his stalker. He could hear her calling out to him from down below. It felt sweet, sitting there by the opening, listening to her promise whatever he wanted.

She already had given it to him.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1002444-Promises