Heart of the Mountain
Copyright© 2026 by WittyUserName
Chapter 17
Horror Sex Story: Chapter 17 - The awakening of something ancient. Tragedy, horror, and romance mix. Will there be a happy ending?
Caution: This Horror Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Fiction Horror Paranormal
~Saturday 25 July, 2026~
6:54 AM
Amber yawned.
Mike glanced over at her from the driver’s seat. “Tired?”
“No.”
“You’re yawning,” he pointed out.
“People yawn in the mornings, Mike. It’s normal.”
“You yawned four times between your apartment and here,” Mike chuckled.
Amber turned toward him. “You counted? You’re such a dork.”
“A dork you had sex with,” he grinned proudly.
She crossed her arms. “I’m regretting all my life choices.”
Mike smirked as he pulled into the ranger station’s parking lot. He was wearing his hiking clothes that he’d brought with him to Amber’s. The equipment in the back of his truck meant he hadn’t needed to return home before they left in the morning. Amber traded in last night’s dress for hiking pants, boots, and her blue field shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a functional ponytail, and her backpack rested between her feet.
“We’re here,” Mike announced as he parked.
“We’re early,” Amber replied, unbuckling her seat belt.
“Dan will be here,” he said confidently.
“He lives here, doesn’t he?”
“Sometimes I think so,” Mike chuckled.
He looked at her and she looked back. The lightness from a moment ago immediately faded.
“You okay?” he asked.
Amber nodded. “Ask me again when we’re done.”
“Deal.”
She reached across the console and took his hand. Mike squeezed hers. Last night felt so far away to both of them. Dinner. Cheesecake. Her apartment. The expression on their faces as they were intimate for the first time. Precious hours when Deer Ridge hadn’t existed. It did again.
“We don’t die today,” she whispered. “Our relationship is just starting. I intend to keep learning more about you.”
“This is just the beginning,” he promised.
Amber released his hand. “Ready?”
“No.”
She smiled faintly. “Me neither.”
Mike and Amber left their gear in the truck when they went inside. A ranger behind the front desk greeted Mike as they entered. Mike then led Amber toward his office, noticing the light was on. They found Dan Harper sitting at Mike’s desk with a cup of coffee in hand.
Mike knocked against the frame. “You do know this is my office, right?”
“My office is at the sheriff’s station,” Harper grunted, looking up at Mike. Then to Amber, then back to Mike.
“Don’t,” Amber murmured. “I’m a lady.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Harper said.
“You were going to,” she replied dangerously.
Harper just sighed. “Close the door.”
Something in the sheriff’s voice was wrong. Mike’s smile disappeared as he stepped inside with Amber and closed the door. For a few moments, nobody spoke. Harper took a long sip of his coffee before setting it down. Placing his folded hands on the desk, he sheriff locked eyes with Mike.
“Marcus Smith died this morning,” Harper said in a flat voice.
Mike stared at him. “What?”
“He deteriorated overnight,” Harper rubbed a hand over his face. “Hospital called an hour ago.”
“Oh, God,” Amber whispered.
Mike slowly lowered himself into one of the chairs across from the desk. “Did he ever wake up?”
Harper shook his head. “No.”
“His family?” Amber asked quietly as she sat beside Mike.
“They were there,” Dan confirmed.
“Complications from the injuries?” Mike questioned.
“That’s what they’re saying,” Harper replied. “I’ll get more later.”
Amber sat very still. “Eleven.”
Harper looked at her. “Yeah. Eleven dead.”
Mike and Amber reached for each other at the same time, their fingers lacing.
Pushing himself out of the chair, Harper sighed heavily. “All right. Before we leave, we’re going to be very clear about what today is.”
“Today is reconnaissance,” Mike said, standing with Amber.
“Yes, we’re not hunting it,” Harper agreed. We’re not trying to capture or kill it. We’re not recovering bodies. We’re looking for an entrance.”
“Understood,” Mike nodded.
“If Bennett finds one with the drone, we document it.”
Amber nodded.
“If the drone can safely go inside, fine. It goes inside,” Harper continued. “We do not.”
“Agreed,” Mike said.
“If the drone gets stuck, we leave it,” Harper said. “If we hear clicking, we’re done.”
“Immediately,” Mike added. “No matter where the drone is. We don’t wait to get one last picture, we make for the stream.”
Harper focused all of his attention on Mike. “And nobody stays behind to cover someone else’s retreat.”
Mike held his gaze. “Dan-”
“No,” Harper shook his head.
“I didn’t say I would,” Mike protested.
“You were just about to explain circumstances where it might be necessary,” Harper insisted.
Mike said nothing.
Harper nodded. “Thought so.”
Amber squeezed Mike’s hand. “Together.”
“Good,” Harper said. “Let’s go.”
Mike and Amber followed Harper outside and around the side of the building. A county SUV waited near the rear lot. The back was open, revealing the packed cargo area. Helmets, medical kits, radios, flashlights. A hard plastic case Mike assumed contained the drone. Another case held ammunition.
Mike walked closer. “You got the vests?
Harper pulled one out. “Three.”
Taking the vest, Mike noticed it was heavier than an ordinary ballistic vest, with additional protection along the sides. “Stab-resistant?”
“That’s what I asked for.”
Amber stepped up. “Will it stop claws?”
Harper sighed. “No idea. It’ll stop a knife. Maybe it’ll keep that thing from opening you up on the first hit.”
“Comforting,” Amber said.
“I’m not here to comfort you,” Sheriff Harper reminded her. He pointed to another case. Helmets, eye protection, gloves.”
Mike nodded approvingly as Harper opened the hard plastic case to reveal the drone.
Amber immediately stepped closer with an excited grin on her face. “Okay!”
Harper glanced at her. “You’ve used one?”
“Not this one,” she confirmed. “But I’ve used similar ones for field photography and site mapping.”
“Okay, let’s practice,” Harper said. “Mike, why don’t you get your stuff from your truck. You brought your shotgun, right?”
“Of course,” Mike nodded.
Mike took a couple trips to his truck while Amber and Harper tested out the drone. Harper almost crashed it into a tree, but Amber definitely knew what she was doing. When he was back with the other two, Mike took out a topographical map so they could mark the stone circle and where they’d be searching.
Harper pointed. “Earlier drone searches covered this whole area.”
“From above,” Mike replied.
“They were looking for people,” Amber said.
“And an animal,” Harper added. “Trails. Clearings. Heat signatures. Movement.”
Amber traced the contour near the clearing with one finger. “But nobody had a reason to fly down here and turn the camera toward the cliff.”
“Exactly,” Dan nodded.
Mike looked at her. “So we go over the edge.”
Amber smiled. “Then descend along the face.”
“And if you find an entrance?” Harper folded his arms.
“We see how deep it goes,” Amber looked at the drone.
Harper started putting away the map. “Drone first.”
“Ropes second,” Mike added.
“Only if necessary.”
The three of them weren’t going into Deer Ridge looking for a missing person, or to find some ancient stones. They weren’t looking for an animal, they weren’t even looking for The Thing in the Mountain. They were looking for the place it called home.
9:41 AM
Nothing happened on the hike through Deer Ridge. Birds flitted through the trees, insects buzzed around them, and a squirrel scrambled halfway up the trunk. It clung to the bark, watching the three humans pass before disappearing into the canopy. Amber told Mike the little guy was adorable.
No clicking. No sudden silence. Nothing acting out of place.
Harper led for most of the hike, with Mike bringing up the rear. Amber stayed between them, her eyes darting around nervously. They stayed closer together than they ordinarily would have on an easy trail. The additional equipment also added a lot of weight, causing them to sweat.
“You good?” Mike asked Amber as she adjusted her vest for the tenth time.
“This was designed for somebody with a different number of curves,” Amber grumbled.
“I got a woman’s vest,” Harper coughed uncomfortably.
“Most women aren’t so well-endowed,” Mike teased.
Amber smiled. “Very professional.”
Harper didn’t turn around. “Can we get through the morning without an HR complaint?”
“She’s not my coworker,” Mike protested.
“Then I assume you’re volunteering to explain this conversation to whoever handles complaints at Binghamton,” Harper said.
Amber laughed.
“She’d complain to my bosses, not hers,” Mike pointed out.
For a few moments, everything almost felt normal. Then the trees opened ahead and they saw the stones. Seven weathered slabs of rock stood among the grass and wildflowers, exactly as they had every other time. Harper stopped at the edge of the clearing; it was his first time seeing the arrangement in person.
Harper slowly surveyed the seven stones. “They don’t look like much.”
“No,” Amber agreed, stepping into the clearing. “But looks can be deceiving.”
Amber moved toward one of the standing stones and crouched. Her hands brushed the lichen covering the small rock.
Harper walked closer. “That’s the one?”
“It is,” Amber nodded.
“Any chance you can put it back and end all this now?” Harper asked.
“If I knew exactly how it fit, and knew for sure the creature was in its nest; maybe,” she sighed.
“That might be what we need to do to resolve this,” Mike admitted.
“Maybe she should take a few minutes to study it?” Harper offered. “At least while we get the drone ready.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Amber admitted, shrugging out of her backpack.
“Don’t wander,” Mike said, his shotgun at the ready.
She looked over her shoulder. “I’m twenty-four years old.”
“And this thing’s killed eleven people; some of them older than you,” Mike pointed out.
“I’ll behave,” Amber rolled her eyes.
Harper had already moved several yards away and lowered the equipment case onto a patch of relatively flat ground. He opened the case, revealing the drone while Mike guarded him and Amber. The archaeologist’s full attention was on the small rock as she muttered under her breath.
Amber had studied the small rock before. She’d photographed it, measured it, sketched every visible marking. She had spent hours staring at the pictures afterward, trying to determine whether the arrangement was ceremonial, astronomical, territorial, or something else entirely.
Now she was also looking at how it was out of place. At the angles, at the way the stones were carved relative to each other. Either Emma Sinclair or Jake Glasner had moved the small rock from where it rested. Amber brushed aside some loose dirt and dead grass from the shallow depression near the base of the standing stone. It was so easy to overlook.
Reaching out, Amber lifted the small rock, the keystone.
“Careful,” Mike said.
“I’m not putting it back,” she replied immediately.
“I know.”
“So don’t talk like I’m handling a live grenade,” she scoffed.
“Uh, you kind of are,” Mike winced.
Amber turned the small rock slowly in her hands. It was roughly the size of her fist, heavier than she would have expected. Shallow grooves were carved across three sides. Weather had softened them and lichen partially-obscured them, but they were unmistakably deliberate.
Setting the stone in the grass beside her, Amber leaned closer to the depression that marked where the small rock had rested for centuries. She ran two fingers along the edge of the depression, noticing there weren’t any markings. That would mean the side with no grooves likely went into the ground. She frowned and reached for the small brush she kept in her field kit.
Behind her, Harper was checking the battery level on the drone and making sure the controller was connected. Dan Harper started up the drone, running it through a slow test circle as he checked to confirm the camera was recording. Mike stayed close to both of them, his eyes and ears on high alert for anything unusual.
Adjusting herself, Amber carefully brushed the lower edge of the large stone, right where it would touch the small rock. A line emerged. Amber gasped and stopped. Then she resumed brushing. More grooves became apparent where the two objects would touch.
“Oh!”
Mike stepped closer. “That good or bad?”
“I don’t know,” Amber sighed.
“You’ve said that a lot,” Mike commented.
“Welcome to archaeology,” Amber mumbled while cleaning another section. “Fascinating.”
“If you say so,” Mike chuckled.
Amber grabbed the keystone again and examined one of its sides. The grooves were in a completely different pattern. She turned it over. That was it. The grooves would line up perfectly, while also allowing the correct side to rest on the ground. She’d done it, she’d found it.
“Mike,” she said urgently.
Mike rushed over and crouched beside her. “What is it?”
Amber held the keystone several inches above the depression. “Look.”
“Right, the rock originally went in that hole, against the stone,” Mike nodded.
She pointed at the groove on the keystone, then the exposed lines on the larger one. “They connect.”
Mike studied them. “You’re sure?”
“About how it fits? Yes,” she rotated the keystone to check different orientations. Only one fit so the grooves lined up and the blank side went into the ground. “This is how we lock up Gerald.”
“Please stop calling the murdering supernatural creature ‘Gerald,’” Mike sighed.
“No, thank you,” Amber shook her head as she continued to study the arrangement.
“Who’s Gerald?” Harper called out.
Mike closed his eyes. “Don’t.”
Amber gestured vaguely toward the mountain. “Gerald.”
Mike sighed.
“This is fascinating!” Amber exclaimed, returning her attention to the stones. “How does it even work? They just look like markings on stone. How do they seal ... the creature?”
“As long as we know how to make it work, that’s enough,” Mike said.
“We don’t know how to make it work,” she mumbled, noticing the way the grooves ran from stone to small rock. “Oh my God.”
Harper looked over from the drone. “What?”
“What is it?” Mike asked.
Amber ignored them both. She lowered the keystone carefully, not allowing it to settle into the depression. Then she looked from stone to stone, noticing how everything connected. It was incredible. Her eyes widened as she sucked in a breath. The complexity, the patterns; brilliant!
“Son of a bitch,” Amber whispered.
Harper landed the drone and walked over. “I’m assuming that’s a good ‘son of a bitch?’”
“This is incredible,” she looked up, excitement all over her face. “They’re all part of the same pattern! I mean, we knew that. Sort of. Every one points inward, every one relates to the next. It’s almost perfect, but something’s missing.” Amber held up the small rock. “Until you put this back. Then the pattern is complete.”
Mike stared at it. “Completing the circuit.”
Amber’s eyes widened. “Yes! That’s actually a great analogy.”
“So the small rock really is a key,” Mike concluded.
“Yes.” Amber nodded. “Emma or Jake removed it, breaking the containment and setting the creature free.”
Harper crouched beside them. “So put it back?”
“No,” she said quickly. “We don’t know for sure what would happen.”
“We have a pretty damn good idea,” Harper argued.
“No, we have a theory,” Amber countered, pointing toward the stones around them. “If we’re right, this arrangement kept that thing contained for hundreds of years. Maybe longer. But we have no idea how.”
“Native American, right?” Mike wondered.
“Almost certainly. Based on the weathering, the construction, the location, everything else I’ve seen here.” Amber looked back around the circle. “But don’t ask me who built it, what they called this thing, or what they thought they were doing. I don’t know.”
“They built a prison?” Harper offered. “That tells us they wanted whatever was inside to stay there.”
“Maybe,” she sighed. “I’m telling you what it appears to do. I can’t tell you how grooves in rocks can contain anything. I can only guess, and based on that guess, we shouldn’t just put the rock back in place.”
“This all goes back to us not knowing where it is right at this second, right?” Mike asked.
“Yes,” she nodded. “If this creates a seal, a boundary it can’t cross; then we need to be absolutely sure it’s within the contained area. Otherwise we’ll trap it outside, not inside.”
Harper nodded toward the equipment case. “That’s why I brought the expensive toy.”
“Okay, this part I understand,” Mike sighed in relief. “Let’s find the thing’s lair.”
“Bennett, how about you get a little more practice in before we send this thing off the side of a mountain.”
10:23 AM
Amber briefly glanced back toward the seven stones. The keystone remained exactly where she’d left it. Out of place. She’d wanted to keep studying. There were dozens of photographs she still wanted to take, multiple measurements she could make; questions that would normally occupy her for days.
Instead, she’d put it down and picked up the controller for the drone. Mike stood several yards behind her with his shotgun. He’d taken up a position facing the tree line, while Harper stood farther to the left, watching another section of the woods. Neither man was looking at her.
“Battery’s at ninety-six percent, signal is good, camera’s recording,” Amber said slowly.
“And if you lose the signal?” Harper asked.
“Bring it back,” she answered.
“If you can’t?” Mike questioned.
“Try harder?”
“Bennett,” Harper growled.
Amber smiled. “We leave it.”
“If it gets stuck in a tree or falls in a hole?” Harper listed.
“We leave it.”
“If the creature grabs it?” Mike asked.
Amber paused. “Can I be upset?”
“You can cry the entire run to the stream,” Mike told her.
“Thank you.”
“We’re recording here too?” Amber asked, touching the controller.
“Everything it sends us,” Harper answered. “We lose the drone, we lose the full-resolution copy on the card, but we’ll still have the feed.”
“Perfect.”
The drone rose smoothly from the ground as Amber watched the live feed. The camera was pointing down, providing a great view of the seven stones. From above, the formation looked even more deliberate. Amber wanted desperately to take the drone higher, photograph the entire formation, then map it and build a three-dimensional model. Later. Hopefully.
Fortunately, the drone was a very fancy model, enabling the camera angle to be adjusted mid-flight. Amber fixed the camera so it was pointing sideways, then she slowly guided the drone toward the edge. Once it was over the edge, Amber lowered it until the granite shelf appeared on screen.
“Over the edge, I have a view of the granite,” Amber confirmed. “Neither of you wants to watch?”
“That’s how people get eaten,” Mike grunted.
Amber considered that. “Fair.”
Returning her attention to the controller, Amber continued slowly lowering the drone. Rock passed across the screen; a seemingly endless expanse of pale granite only briefly broken by patches of moss. Amber soon found a small shelf where several stubborn plants had taken root. She scoffed as she remembered how easily the orchids she cared for died, yet these plants just said “fuck yeah, granite!”
She shook her head and kept up the descent. The next find was a crack barely wide enough for Amber’s hand. While she mainly went down, Amber also checked a decent width of the cliff face. According to the theory, the crevasse led to a cave directly beneath the circle. However, it was definitely possible there were passages that caused the opening to be slightly out of the way.
A bird suddenly launched from a narrow ledge.
“Shit!” Amber cursed.
Mike spun. “What? What is it?”
“Bird.”
Harper looked toward her. “Dammit, Bennett!”
“It flew at the camera!”
“Is the drone damaged?” Harper asked.
“No.”
“Then the bird isn’t our problem,” Mike grunted. “Keep going.”
“Rude.”
Mike shook his head as Amber kept going. Five minutes passed. Then ten. She searched methodically: horizontal passes, altitude changes, direction reversals. Amber kept some distance from the cliff to make sure a sudden gust of wind didn’t push the drone into the granite.
Nothing.
The longer she searched, the more she understood why nobody had found anything before. It was sheer rock; hundreds of feet of fractured, weathered granite briefly interrupted by vegetation and narrow ledges. Everything was starting to look the same to her as she moved lower.
“Anything?” Harper asked.
“Not yet,” Amber answered.
“How far down?” Mike questioned.
“Around fifty feet.”