Samhain
Act V. Until Dawn Breaks
Supernatural Sex Story: Act V. Until Dawn Breaks - A Halloween concert in a deconsecrated church. A singer fills in for a sick friend, then returns for her own band’s set at midnight. Between the two, a stranger is watching her from the crowd. Some songs are written. Some are only remembered. And on Samhain, the line between the two grows thin.
Caution: This Supernatural Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Mystery Paranormal Oral Sex Halloween
The small dressing room still smelled of them. Anyone walking in would have understood what had happened without a word. No one came in, though; the light above the door was still on. Jack stood behind her, fastening her dress. The tiny hooks at the back proved more difficult than he had expected. His fingers kept catching on the fabric, and Veronica couldn’t help smiling as she watched him struggle in the mirror.
“You do realize that if you tear this dress, I’ll have to go on stage in whatever’s left of it?”
“I’ll try not to ruin your performance.”
“How generous of you.”
He laughed quietly, but her smile soon faded. She studied their reflections: herself, with tangled hair and swollen lips, and Jack, standing so close behind her that there was barely any space between them. The lamplight fell across his face, and she caught herself trying to memorize it. Every small detail. Every glimmer in his eyes.
“Jack?”
“Yes?”
She hesitated.
“How long will you stay with me?”
His fingers stopped at the last hook. Only for a second, but she noticed. Jack lowered his hands and didn’t meet her eyes at once. In the mirror, his gaze seemed to drift past his own reflection.
“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to tell you about this just yet.”
“But you will.”
It wasn’t a question. She had already understood from his fingers, from the way he avoided looking at her.
“Tonight,” he said. “Once a year, the boundary grows thin. Whatever holds me there weakens. Tonight, I was able to cross over.”
She listened without interrupting. Old stories, ancient rites she had always dismissed as superstition—all of it suddenly fell into place. There was no mystical solemnity in his voice, no attempt to impress her. He spoke about what he knew firsthand, as casually as a man might talk about the weather outside.
“So the Church didn’t invent all this?”
“The rite is far older than Christianity. People observed this night long before the Church existed. Later, some customs were forgotten, others reinterpreted, and others declared forbidden. But the boundary never disappeared.”
“Samhain,” she murmured.
“Samhain.”
She repeated the word almost soundlessly, as if testing how it felt on her tongue. The name of an ancient festival—and the reason she was standing beside a man she had loved in another life. Perhaps the reason none of this could last, either.
“So ... until dawn?”
Jack shook his head. The silence before he did chilled her more than the gesture itself.
“If not for what happened between us, yes. I was meant to vanish with the first light. But now things are different.”
He turned towards her, and she saw the same sadness in his eyes that she had noticed from the very beginning. Only now did she understand its cause.
“I took on too much flesh. When I came here, I was a shadow—something between a memory and a man. But after you remembered me...” He fell silent, searching for words and finding none. “You made me real. I can feel warmth. Pain. Touch. I’m alive, Veronica. As alive as a dead man can be.”
She caught his hand.
“And what does that mean?”
“That my time is almost up.”
For several moments, she stared at him, hearing every word but unable to fit them together into something she could accept.
“No.”
Jack said nothing.
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