Journey Into the Dark
Copyright© 2025 by CindySinful
Chapter 5
Horror Sex Story: Chapter 5 - This is an inspiration from watching a live performance of The Old Gods of Appalachia recently, trying to capture the haunting spirit of the tales - but with an erotic twist. Throw in a little bit of Douglas Adams, but with the usual hackish writing style of myself and you have what I hope to turn into an epic story
Caution: This Horror Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa Fa Consensual Romantic Lesbian Fiction Horror Mystery Masturbation Petting Sex Toys
When she arrived home at her parents’ old house, Gina decided to explore the house a little bit more.
It looked as though nothing had been touched for years. Yet, it was so clean. Yes, there was some dust, but not the amount of dust expected in a home that had not seen another human being in decades, let alone in the country or this near the railroad tracks.
Almost as if on cue, a train rumbled past her house. The tracks were about 300 yards from the house, close enough to cause a disturbance. She wondered to herself how things had not fallen off the shelves after so many years of trains running past the house, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year.
She searched through her parents’ room, past drawers filled with moth-eaten panties, and through closets full of T-shirts, some reasonably on hangers, now rotting and yellowed with age.
She wondered where the spider webs were, where the mice and rats were.
When Gina was younger, she had a tendency to keep her room pretty messy. For a while, when she was in her early teens, a mouse joined her in the room, living in a corner, making a nest. She did not mind the creature, and it certainly did not seem to mind her.
Mice were common in the country. Gina wondered why they had not set up nests in this long-empty house in the country. Why had a raccoon not made its way inside?
She found a lock box inside one of the drawers of the dresser. The key was in the lock. She opened it, finding the deed to the house, along with the licenses of both of her parents. Bank statements were stuffed at the bottom. Gina looked at them, whistling lowly at the figures on the paper. One of the banks had long since closed its doors, the company having long since gone. Had that money disappeared?
Gina pulled out her phone and began searching. She found a history of the bank, noting that the accounts had been transferred to another bank, which had also closed its doors. Finally, she found that some accounts had been transferred to yet another bank, this one still operating in the south. To her surprise, her parents’ accounts were still active at that bank.
The numbers had grown larger.
She found another paper, which included a Power of Attorney granting her authority over her parents in the event of an emergency.
She let out a sad sigh. Something had happened. Perhaps it wasn’t something she was entirely sure about, but something had happened.
Moving from her parents’ bedroom, she looked through the living room, where she found hundreds of books, including fiction, non-fiction, history, and biography. Some had been read, others had not been cracked once.
Downstairs, she found hundreds of boxes, most of which were unlabeled. She looked through some, finding more books, small old kitchen appliances, and old dishes.
In the corner of the basement was a workbench, along with a toolbox containing hundreds of tools meticulously organized in the drawers. On a table near the workbench lay a couple of flashlights, although they did not look entirely like flashlights; they resembled items that had once been flashlights but were no longer so.
The wall beside the toolbox had been painted white. Burn marks, partially round, covered a sizable portion of the wall. Her curiosity piqued, Gina took one of the flashlights and shone it towards the wall. A bright beam leapt from the device, startling her, as it hit the wall and quickly turned the section into a dark yellow, with a small amount of smoke emanating from the spot.
With a huff, Gina turned off the flashlight, putting it back onto the table. It was warm, but it didn’t seem as warm as it should have been, considering the amount of damage it had caused.
She glanced at her watch. Leslie would be getting off work in a couple of hours.
Gina got into the shower, cleaning herself off before grabbing a hearty lunch, then setting off towards Leslie’s house.
As she ran along the wooded country roads, she noticed the shadows of the trees getting longer, forbidding sights on this warm summer night.
As she ran the long last stretch towards Leslie’s house, she ran past the red warehouse she had noticed a few days before. She could barely make out a semi pulling into one of the docks. She then saw a blue sedan traveling from the factory, down the long driveway towards the road she stood on, dust being sent up through the air as the car’s tires moved.
Gina was curious, but a glance at her watch reminded her, and she began running down the road again. After she had put about a third of a mile’s distance between herself and the factory driveway, she turned and noticed the car was now sitting at the end of the driveway. She almost felt eyes on her.
Giving a slight shudder, Gina turned back and continued her run towards Leslie’s house. When she was about a mile from the factory driveway, she turned and looked again, now hardly being able to make out anything in the distance but swearing to herself that the blue car still sat at the end of the driveway, staring at her.
She took up her run again, her pace picking up a little bit more. Maybe it was the car, perhaps it was the longer shadows, but she wanted to reach Leslie’s house soon. A pang of guilt struck her as she realized that fear now drove her towards the girl’s house, and not the affection she had felt earlier in the day.
Once she finally reached that house across the street from the diner, she was tired, and the shadows were extraordinarily long. Her fondness for the girl inside the house had returned.
She knocked on the door.
There was no answer.
She knocked again.
Still, the house was silent.
She looked around, trying to see if there was any sign that Leslie was inside the house. She could see no sign of Leslie being in the house, but she could not see any sign that she was NOT in the house.
She knocked again.
There was still no answer. She swore she could have heard a little bit of movement, but she was not sure if it was her nerves, now heightened even more by the darker shadows encroaching on the city.
She looked towards the diner. It appeared to be dark. It seemed to be abandoned.
Still, she ran to it. She ran around it. It was indeed closed.
Gina could feel a bit of panic embracing her now. Her heart was beating faster, and sweat was collecting, but it was not from the run. It was from the growing darkness. By now, she could not see the sun, its light barely touching the surrounding landscape. She had to get inside, somewhere, somehow.
She looked around. The couple who owned the diner had to live somewhere, but she had no idea. Not a light shone on any of the other houses.
Gina ran back over to Leslie’s house, this time banging on the door with her fist, panic almost completely overtaking her.
There was no answer.
In a small fit of panic, she tried the knob.
The door opened.
She looked around, then looked inside, before quickly darting inside and slamming the door behind her.
“Leslie?” She spoke. The house did not answer. “Leslie, are you here?” There was still no answer.
Fear still gripped Gina, but she felt a little bit safer. Going around the house, she turned on every light she could find. But she saw no Leslie.
With a sigh, she sat on the edge of the bed, looking around. Her heart still thumped in her chest, but she felt safer as the interior of the house was flooded with light, the walls reflecting it.