Heading off from the sanctuary ground, Armand heads through the woods and looks out at the other end. The world is going to shit. People are burning up houses and fields and shit. Thank god for the sanctuary walls that protect the forest and their gods given area. If not for that, Armand is sure they would have no home. They would be dead.
People have gone on a panic. Looking to his right, he spots vamps hanging by threads. Or rather threads that turn out to be nooses.
It is what it is. He knows something is going on. What is it the last person he talked to called it? The Purge?
That sounds about right. And he knows things are gonna get interesting. Life is about to get a lot worse. He doesn’t know what it is gonna take but he will keep praying to the gods to keep them safe. Because obviously the other kinds haven’t been doing so.
Running back home, he turns on his TV and looks at the various images that show up. Witches and such being burned at the stakes. Wolves being hung. Other shifters being decapitated and impaled on large sharpened spikes. This just gets more and more gruesome. It truly is a purge. Things are not getting better. It is turning out worse for the paranormal community. Nothing is gonna stop this form continuing once it has started.
His phone buzzes and a picture shows up to find someone known as Cordell—according to the picture—stuck through with a spike even though the body has clearly been dead for a while.
He wonders: is this some kind of warning? Does someone know about the walls? Has someone fibbed about them?
Nettie flies over head and avoids the arrows being shot at her as well as the bullets. Something is going on. Landing on top of trees next to Clyde, they spot more and more people tearing shit down. Nothing can stop things from getting worse. Time is starting to kick them in the ass.
People are getting more and more cruel. She hasn’t a clue what more to expect at this point. But she knows she might end up going south again. Going back to her home. Where things are safe. And though she thinks it’s too much a stereotype, she feels safer in the trees. Houses that belong to paranormal beings are being torn down. Statues damaged. People massacred. It’s like the world isn’t gonna stop until the last shifter or demonic entity is gone.
Turning around, she flies high into the air—into a location that has a slight lack of oxygen—and flies back home. The whole time Clyde stays close to her, protecting her ass.
Once back at the house, she sits back on the bed and calms her heart. Not good for being sick. But she is getting better. At least she thinks so. Just as she gets comfortable, she jumps off the bed and swan dives right to the bathroom, retching up everything that comes to her stomach.
This is not good at all. The world is going to hell and so is her health. It is only a matter of time before things get much worse. And she doesn’t wanna think about what it could be.
Once she’s done, she flushes the toilet and washes her mouth out with water and mouthwash. Sitting on the counter, she puts her hand to her head and feels a normal temperature. What the hell is wrong with her? And why is it happening to her?
Clyde hands her a box. “Do yourself a favor? Piss on this.”
“Why?” she asks.
She does so and hands it to him. He glances at it. This is just getting better and better. He comes back a little while later.
“This is why,” he says. And clears his throat. “You are pregnant.”
Fucking hell. Pregnant?
I stare at the men in front of the house. At the front door. They look redneck. Long beards. Thick glasses. And lots of anger in their eyes.
“What’s up man?” one asks.
“Nothing much. Just relaxing. What’s up with you?” I ask.
They smile. “You wanna have some fun.”
“What do you mean?”
“We are purging the world of the filth.”
“Don’t tell me you are here to preach about the bible.”
“Don’t know, don’t care about that filth. We would like you and your partner to join us in the purge.”
Being a smartass with a smile, I ask, “Do we get a choice?”
“Nah,” another one says.
I burst out into laughter and they join me.
“Okay guys. Just let me and my partner fuck around a little while longer and we’ll join you,” I say.
They high five me and close the door after saying, “have fun.”
I don’t know what the purge is about but at this point it is better to blend in and hide shit rather than to be out of it and stick out like a whore’s thumb.
Heading back into the room, I look at him seductively. “Where were we?”
“You were fucking my hole.”
At that point, I get hard instantly and flip him onto his back. Spreading those cheeks, I eat that hole using every fiber of my being to hold me back from coming. Once good and ready, I keep them spread and thrust my cock inside.
And when I do, he moans for me.
“I don’t know your name,” I say.
“Why do you ask?”
“I wanna moan it when I come in that hole of yours.”
That’s one hot fucking name.
The moment I start thrusting, I moan his name and he moans mine. We cannot hold the affection we feel. The surprise feeling of ecstasy rises through me as I thrust into that tight hole. I cannot help it. He is just so fucking hot. And I want what I want.
But this is just the beginning.