The Woman in the Garden
Copyright© 2023 by Aiden Clover
Prologue.
Horror Sex Story: Prologue. - In the mountains of Hammerfell, a lady and a servant explore a hidden romance, while something preys on them from the dark.
Caution: This Horror Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa Consensual Romantic Lesbian BiSexual Fan Fiction High Fantasy Horror Vampires Zombies FemaleDom Spanking Polygamy/Polyamory Royalty Violence
The night was cool and gray. The moons shone their light on the mountain forests, guiding her away from the sleeping gardens. She had taken her sword, and the necklace that had been a gift from her mother, a red ruby on a golden chain. She hadn’t taken any gold; she wouldn’t be needing it where she was going.
Up here the paths were twisting and treacherous by night. The starry Hammerfell sky dominated the south, encompassing the manse and her gardens far behind, and to the north loomed the crags and cliffs, a great wall of impenetrable shadow. Little fires burned in sconces on the walls of the place she had called home, and now she ventured far from their light, into that imposing darkness where naught that was human could survive. But she would, for soon she would be more than any man or mer.
But for now, she was only human, and the unwary human might end up food for roaming packs of welwa. She kept a hand on her sword, watchful for any sign of the furry little beasts, or whatever else lurked in the dark. The night was loud with its typical revelry of owls and insects, a song that filled her with nostalgia for warm summer evenings and nights by the fireside. Torchbugs dotted the spaces beneath the trees, and as their leafy awnings closed in overhead to block out the firmament, she found herself under a new nighttime sky filled with yellow-green stars that faded in and out of existence.
She went out to where the trees ended in a brief clearing, just before the riverbank, and followed the sound of its slowly-flowing waters. Upstream towards the falls she went, back into the wood, and further up the sloping ground, feeling for roots with her sword as she went. She had taken no torch. Not much longer now and she wouldn’t need one.
The cave’s mouth was inconspicuous even by daylight, and with only the moons to guide her, she had to look long and hard for the shadow that was not cast by an overhang of rock in the great curtain wall. She found the opening; it was wide but low, and she had to duck on her way inside. There was no sound but that of her breath, and nothing to see but the absolute black. The silence continued unbroken for seconds, and minutes, the world outside as if it had never existed, and she feared she had been deceived, sent out here in search of something that would never be granted.
“Are you ready?” It was a woman’s voice, supple like velvet, and vivid as it had been when she heard it in the dreams. It was only then that she smelled the scents that filled the cave, the wet musk of elk hide, the iron of blood.