Heir of Wolcott Manor
Copyright© 2025 by Carlos Santiago
Prologue: The Demented Illusion of Choice
Horror Sex Story: Prologue: The Demented Illusion of Choice - After his father's passing in 1822, Silas Wolcott returns home to discover he has inherited a fortune beyond necessity. However, soon, he must uncover the secrets of his House and bloodline. With the help of his stalwart butler, a seductive vampire, and his own intellect, Silas must navigate a power FAR greater than any of mortal comprehension.
Caution: This Horror Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Historical Alternate History Paranormal Vampires Cream Pie Halloween Royalty Violence
“You think people make choices? No. People think they make choices; they think they’re gonna steer right or steer left, but they didn’t build the roads. The Big Choices already got made for them, a long time ago.”
— Brennan Lee Mulligan, spoken during Dimension 20: The Unsleeping City, Chapter I (2019), Season 1, Episode 1 (“Start Spreading the News”). Produced by Dropout (CollegeHumor/CH Media). First aired December 7, 2019 on Dropout.tv. Copyright © 2019 by CH Media Holdings, LLC. All rights reserved.
They came not by voice, for this call could not be produced by a throat or tongue. Even gestures were worthless in this dominion of anti-space. Consumption and eradication was the norm for such a location.
However when one was called by the infinite pressure of will, one must arrive regardless of the location.
This was a place where description was worthless and understanding of physics and limitation was pointless, for these were beings beyond mortal comprehension.
Locations such as these were not simply positional points that one could coordinate to find. They were spiritual, instinctive, honed in on the inexplicable. What one felt, they knew. It was not a matter of being so foolish as to try and put them into words.
How could one explain a star collapsing outward into unbirth before it became so small that it crystallized into that of a diamond whose luster had been stolen from it to be put into the eyes of a maiden? What of a galaxy so small that it might fit on the collar of a two foot cat, but it housed the near infinite weight of a quadrillion beings? Contradiction was the language of the insatiable aberration.
By the rules of logic and laws of reason, these experiences could not exist, yet they did, and in a thriving abundance that would challenge the notion of causal time. That the effect happened first only to lead to the cause was probable in this venue, and why should it not be?
Lesser beings were bound up by the need to constraints. That which one could imagine in this site was more than possible; it was reality.
In this domain, there were impossibilities that went beyond that of the first, second, or third dimension. Time and space meant nothing in this place, which might have seemed a conundrum, and yet, for these beings, this was their everyday.
While many beings came and went at the call of their undefeated, undisputed sovereign, this day was specified for one particular being. Others would accompany them, of course, but the need was for the singular while the additions were redundancies that preserved the Gate Keeper’s idyllic form of existence.
The Horror lay bound in the unilluminated blackness without limiting vistas, and the countless tendrils of the Lurker at the Threshold pierced his form, driving him into a shape of obedience. There was no escaping the coils of the Keeper of All Gates. The tendrils were made of both flesh and the concept of law itself. This was a useful quality for one that fastened the weight of a billion years.
How frustrating continuing sentience was to exist in a venue where overlapping contradictions reigned. When such improbabilities occurred, there was only discomfort to be experienced.
The irritation of circumstances melted away when a mandate from the Greatest One seeped into the Horror’s very being through that of compulsion:
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