Here is my second story of black boys raping and dominating white women, inspired by the drawings of the artist known as “Shota” on (Shotachan dot net).

WARNING: Vast amounts of interracial bullshit is written below. Abandon reading it! I repeat, Abandon reading it!

[PROPER DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction, regardless of age, or relation, sexual assault is illegal. The author does not condone any sexual activity among persons under 18 in real life.]

[You must legally be at least 18 to read about it. So if you’re not, then go away.]

Halloween is the autumn festival, Samhain, that foretells the darkening of the skys and the arrival of snow. It is the harvest festival in many lands, known by different names, but true followers believe the separation between the spirit world and the living world narrows. Gaps through that veil can be found.

Ellen Kent stood on the step ladder, helping her college friend, Patricia, put up paper bats and other decorations along the school’s corridors. Patricia was an administrator, employed to assist, evaluate, and shepherd teachers at the small, “Late-Middle” school for boys of 14 years or older.

Solomon’s Prep School, had been established by a united effort of the Scottish government and The Church of Scotland. The goal was to save boys in danger of slipping through society’s cracks. There were boys of all colours, and of all races. The main thing they had in common was, their families lived just above the poverty line.

Enrollment was optional, but the financial incentives for parents were considerable. The boys lived in the adjoining dorm, fed three healthy meals a day, and had plenty of free time and holidays to spend with their families. The dorm was packed to the ceiling with student, nearly five hundred, at last count.

The director, Amos Grant, always walked beamingly through the corridors. His white teeth brightly contrasted with his near coal black skin. “Hello, Ms. Haller. Who is this helping you, a prospective instructor?”

Patricia smiled at the handsome gentleman, her boss. “She’s a long time friend, Director, but no. Ellen here works in the anthropology department at the University of Edinburgh.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mmm-” Amos grinned while reaching for the appropriate title.

“Miss Kent, will do, Sir.” Ellen found herself nearly curtseying at the large, impressive man offering his hand. She shook it and added, “But please, call me Ellen.”

“It will be my pleasure.” He moved to kiss her hand.

“Now-now.” Patricia rebuked. “You’re technically on duty, Director. Keep to civil discourse.” The director was known to overstep the line between professionalism and personal comfort, but never very far. No one had ever complained, and Patricia had accepted the responsibility to ensure no one ever did.

“Yes of course.” Amos Grant stood to full height. The two women, tall for their sex, were a head shorter. Their combined widths were few inches wider than his broad shoulders. Neither women imagined he carried an ounce of extra fat. “By any chance, Miss K-, I mean, Ellen, are you an enthusiast for world mythologies?”

A smile of regret crossed her face. “I specialized in social psychology.”

“Aah!” Amos beamed again. “The two are more similar than most academics suspect.”

Ellen laughed. “I’m led to assume that you have a theory regarding the similarities.”

“Which...” Amos glanced at his chief of human resources who raised cautionary eyebrows. “ ... I would be happy to discuss with you after school hours.”

“If only I could today, but as soon as we finish decorating, I will be meeting my boyfriend.” Ellen reassured Patricia that she was not an item for her friend’s boss.

“Good day to both of you. I sense those bats are glaring at me, no doubt for good reason. I shall leave you to finish hanging them.” Amos strode away.

Patricia asked her friend, “Can you help during the festival?”

“Probably. Barry is working the amusement park that night, and I’ve tried the rides there too many times.”

“But not the amusement you’d like to ride?” Patricia asked slyly.

“It’ll happen. Neither of us are in a hurry.”

“Far be it, that I would prod you.”

“You’d probably enjoy a prod while you were IN the saddle.” Ellen grinned.

Patricia laughed, “I’m sorry, Madam, but I’m still clocked into my work hours. I dare not comment on that.”

The two, beautiful women laughed.

The Keepers counted the passing days. Their charges savaged each other upon an empty plain eternally in twilight. Soon, they must be extra vigilant, to bless or subdue errant souls seeking either redemption or consumption.

“The city of Edinburgh would learn a valuable lesson in racial integration, from this school.” Ellen told her friend.

All evening, the boys of Solomon’s Prep School played their pranks and took their booty (candy) and carried on like little hellions. There were no serious incidents. These were good boys. Amos Grant quickly expelled students who earned three major strikes against their honor.

“The fun will end too soon for them.” Patricia smiled. “And not soon enough for me. I’ll feel sounder when they’re wearing their school uniforms again.”

“Aw, they’re sweet.” Ellen wished her future children would be as lively and well behaved as these boys.

At the stroke of 21:00 hours, Amos spoke over the intercomm. “Students, please exit to the school grounds. Wind down your fine energies, and don’t eat too much candy. Tomorrow is another day of classes. Lights-out will be observed at 23 hundred hours.”

Patricia commented. “That’s an hour later than usual.”

A shy looking, black child walked up to the women. “Can I go to the toilet, or do I have to go outside right away?”

“It’s Master Rollins. Is that right?” Patricia smiled at the boy.

“Yes, Ma-am. I’m Eddie.” He affirmed.

“Use the toilet, Eddie, but don’t dally. The janitors have a lot of work to do tonight, to clean up after you.” Patricia grinned.

“No, Ma-am!” Eddie hurried down the corridor.

“This was so much fun!” Ellen exclaimed. “Thank you for inviting me.” She hugged her friend.

“Have a good rest, Dear. You’ve worked harder than you think.” Patricia warned. “I just have to meet with the director, and then my night is over.”

“Sleep well.” Ellen told her friend and headed to the main entrance. She walked halfway there. “Ugh! What’s that smell?” Had one of the janitors spilled bleach or a sulphur based solvent? She held her nose and walked on. Was it the smell of gas? She’d better get outside.

Upon reaching the entrance hall, the ground beneath her and the rest of the building shifted, hurling her against the wall! The school’s corridors were suddenly filled with howls and moans, as if it had been injured.

Is this some kind of joke? Ellen thought. Or could it be terrorists?

“By the Stars!” She blurted, after a look through cracked glass doors. The sky was lit up as if the sun was about to return from the west. “If that’s fire, there’s a lot of it.” The notion of a nuclear weapon crossed her mind, but she would not be alive to imagine one. Something dangerous was happening. Ellen retraced her steps, almost running, but Patricia had left their assigned station. She sought the director’s office, worried more about what was happening outside than the rank odors and agonized groans filling the halls.

“He’s DEAD!” Patricia rushed out of the director’s office, nearly bowling over two teachers enjoying tea in the administration area.

“This isn’t April Fools, Patricia.” A stern looking, older woman admonished.

Ellen heard most of it as she entered the area. “Patricia! What’s going on?”

The second teacher, a beautiful, blond American snorted. “Some of the boys must have got hold of flash bangs. More than a few of their fathers are in the armed forces.”

“I can hardly taste my tea, the odor is so strong in here.”

Patricia’s panic eased back to where she could process reality again, however terrible it was. “His body is all shriveled, and he’s naked!” Why couldn’t Gail and Cecily believe her!

“Patricia!” Ellen stormed up. “Let me see.” Her friend let her pass into the director’s office.

Worse than a dead body, the entire room was trashed. Fire burned in a metal waste bin. Amos Grant lay face down, his frame a shadow of it’s earlier might. It seemed as if wrinkles rolled across his corpse like waves. The large window to the outside was fully smashed, as if a grenade had exploded within.

“Oh my god!” The American shouted.

“Heavenly, holy father.” The older teacher crossed herself. “Spare us from evil, this night.”

“Call 999!” Patricia screeched over the building’s howls. She darted to a phone.

Ellen pulled hers out of her pocket. There was no signal. Gail and Cecily found theirs equally useless.

“Electric power is off, even the phone lines!” Patricia lamented.

“Then we hunker down like good Brits and wait for emergency services to come to us.” The older woman asserted.

“The boys, Gail!” The American wailed. “We have to help them.”

“Of course, that’s what I meant.” Gail cleared her throat. “We collect the boys and hunker down.”

The moans echoing through the corridors were slowly fading.

“How many teachers helped the festivities tonight?” Ellen feared five hundred boys would be impossible to control if they panicked.

“Forty, including other staff.” Patricia had arranged the event.

They hurried as a group, into the halls. Six women, from other areas of the school joined their expedition. Another ten were at the front doors, staring out at the expanse of grounds.

“What’s the matter?” Patricia called to the women.

“They aren’t moving.” A young teacher pointed, touching the cracked glass.

Outside, the students had gathered into a odd shape. A double line, comprised by maybe three hundred boys, formed a circle around the central building. Within the circle, at least a hundred boys stood hunched over, looking around. The strangest thing of all, by Ellen’s thinking was, the boys in the circle were all black.

Mixed races formed the line, but the blackest boys looked trapped within it.

One of them spotted the front doors. It turned and crept closer.

It’s movement caught the attention of other, black boys. They sniffed the air and followed.

Gail went through the door and called to them. “Young masters, listen to me. I’m sure what’s happened has troubled all of us, but we must keep our heads. The best place for us is the dormitory. We can sleep there, and the cafeteria is attached to it. The power is out. So we’ll have to eat the froz- AAAIIEEEEE!!!” She shrieked when two boys jumped on her. Their hands tore at her clothes! Another leaped to assist them.

“Gail!” The American screamed. Dozens more of the night skinned boys began scurrying to the entrance.

“STOP THIS!” Patricia yelled at the boys. “DON’T PANIC!”

Two of the teachers yelled and ran away. Nearly half of the boys swarmed up the entrance steps. The leading dozen glanced at the three boys pawing off Gail’s clothes while they dragged her to the ground. They saw the women standing behind the doors and gaped. Purple light seeped out of their mouths.

More women fled into the corridors.

Cecily tugged at one of the boys on her older, workmate. “Stop this! What’s gotten into you?” The next four boys leaped at her.

Ellen heard the words of Amos Grant. “The two are more similar than most academics suspect.” This wasn’t social disorder. This was a mythical incident! A devout atheist, Ellen’s empathy for metaphysics grew three sizes that night. She yelled, “I’m returning to the director’s office!”

“I DON’T UNDERSTAND!” Patricia screamed up at the sky. Six boys dragged her to the ground, tearing at her clothes.

Ellen forced her terror into submission. There were too few adults to control more than a hundred boys with purple light glinting out of their drooling mouths! There had to be a reason for this, and all signs pointed to Amos Grant. She ran.

In the next hall, between her and the administration area, a boy stood. She recognized him.

Ellen’s heart thudded, as her heels squeaked to a stop on the tile floor. “Eddie?”

The boy grinned and beckoned her with a hand.

“Uh, are you okay?”

He nodded, saying nothing.

“I have to go to the director’s office.” She walked towards him, but skirted the reach of his arm.

He nodded again when she passed him, never taking her eyes off of the boy who was likely in shock. Someone needed to wrap him in a blanket, to keep him warm.

“Come.” She beckoned him. There was a coat in the director’s room. Eddie followed.

The rack had fallen, but the coat was thick and large. She held it open for the boy who walked into it. After wrapping that around the standing child, she locked the office door behind them.

Sobs for the fate of her friend, whom Ellen could absolutely not help, overtook her. This was something she could do, she told herself, putting Eddie out of her thoughts. She had to focus and concentrate on the evidence.

The corpse was as dead, and as eerie to look at, as before. Purple flashes flickered into the gaping window, but none of the boys outside could see her. She moved squatting low. Papers had been scattered everywhere. Whole filing cabinets were overturned, their guts strewn across Asian rugs.

Swiping away entire binders, searching for anything that looked like it might belong in a ritual, Ellen noticed the rug lying before the director’s massive desk. The weavers had crafted a wild vision of the African continent. White flute players danced around it. A great mass of black people defined the shape of Africa.

Ellen turned to the body. She grimaced upon touching it. The flesh was still warm. The optical illusion of rippling wrinkles was no illusion. Her hand flew to her mouth as she gasp from fresh horror.

She noticed a bluish light seeping from under Amos’ body. Ellen knew what had to be done. She attempted to lift one shriveled shoulder, but his soul’s container was as light as cotton candy. From beneath Amos, a cell phone lit the room. Next to it lay a small, delicate looking flute. She drew it and the phone out from under the body and examined them.

He must have turned off the sleep feature. The bright screen showed a photo of an incredibly well preserved animal hide. Faint ochre symbols had once been painted across the ancient canvas.

The flute had bent at her gentle touch. It looked as if it had been carved from a bone. Perhaps it was bird’s bone. The flute was incredibly thin walled. She tested it, picking it up as carefully as possible, and fingered the holes. Her eyes were drawn to the symbols.

They must be notes but were indecipherable to her. Ellen placed her lips to the flute and blew a soft breath. A high, brief whistle sounded. She set it next to the phone. That was all that could be learned.

The first story that came to her, was the only interpretation she would believe. Amos must have played the notes, possibly repeating them, which would explain why he had turned off the sleep feature on his phone.

She looked for other clues. She noticed Eddie. Instead of staying in the warm coat, he had let it fall to the floor and had begun taking off his clothes. When Ellen’s attention returned to him, he was in the process of removing his white briefs, the last item adorning his naked body.

Eddie’s thin cock stood six inches from his walnut sized balls. It pointed at Ellen. Eddie grinned at her, purple light spilling out of his large lipped mouth. He took a step towards her.

“No, Eddie.” She whispered fiercely. “Stay away from me.”

The grin twisted on his face. His eyes were shiny coal black. He reached out, taking a second, faster step.

“If you can hear me, Eddie, fight it, whatever’s driving you.” Ellen had seen too many horror movies with happy endings.

She backed away, to the side of Amos’ desk. She looked behind, but would have had to rise up to see what was happening on the school grounds. Purple lights continued to flicker into the room, darting across the office’s walls and ceiling. The wailing of women pierced the very air.

Eddie backed Ellen into a corner.

“I’ll fight you.” Ellen’s voice intensified. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Her hands scoured through the junk, wanting a weapon of greater threat than a paper cut. Failing, she balled her fists.

Eddie closed in. She struck at his outstretched hands, batting them away. He appeared to feel no pain. He stepped closer. When Ellen punched again, she hated having to, she struck his chest with all her might.

Eddie stumbled back, but one hand latched on to the beautiful woman’s thin arm.

Ellen screamed! Pain like nothing she’d ever experienced flooded her senses. Strangely, her arm wasn’t the source of the agony, his hand was. His agony flowed into her. The torture upon its soul froze her muscles.

Tears flowed from the woman’s eyes. She could only watch, suffering the being’s intense pain, unable to breathe, while Eddie removed her clothes. His dick trembled with anticipation.