The taxi let us out at the gate. “No cars allowed inside,” said the security agent who asked for our names, checked his register then opened a smaller gate to the side for us to enter. “Follow the torches,” he said. “And have a good evening.”
Torches lined the long winding driveway. And while they did provide some heat, the evening air was cool, bordering on cold, and we hurried to get to the house.
Large trees concealed much of the home from view. The branches blended with the vine-covered walls such that it was impossible in the dark night to get a true sense of its proportions.
The Grim Reaper greeted us at the entrance. “Those who dare cross the line are beyond the reach of angels,” he said. And with his sickle he motioned to a line of, hopefully, fake blood traced before the threshold of the front doors.
“We have no interest in angels,” said Holly.
“Precisely,” said the Grim Reaper, and he stepped out of the way to grant us passage.
The entryway was pitch black, save a neon sign off to the left that read ‘Dare’.
Naturally, that was where we headed.
We arrived at a velvet curtain. Holly opened it, and we stepped in.
The room was dimly lit. The walls and ceiling were painted a dark scarlet. With plush sofas and antique chairs strewn in a seemingly orderless fashion, we were quickly disoriented.
A woman, dressed as a black cat, crawled along the floor on all fours. A chain hung from her collar and ran to a sofa where a man, wearing a black bikini bottom and a wolf mask and nothing else, lay, the end of the chain resting loosely in his hand.
Farther down, a woman draped in leopard skin held two leashes in her hand, each attached to a man on all fours on either side of her feet. The men were wrapped in a loincloth and had bags over their heads.
We walked past them into another room whose walls and ceiling were painted navy blue. On our right a magician, painted ghostly white, occupied a small stage. His right arm was extended straight, and perched on top of it were four doves. The magician waved his cape over his arm, and the doves vanished. He took his cape in his other hand, waved it to reveal now his left arm extended to the other side, and perched on top of it were three doves. He repeated this motion until all the doves had vanished then he let his cape fall to a puddle at his feet. He clapped his hands, and four doves flew to him from four directions to perch atop his outstretched arms.
The chairs that faced the stage were empty, aside from one where a woman straddled a man, her back to the stage. She was kissing and grinding on the man seated there. A small group of people stood around the chair and seemed more interested in that show than the one on the stage.
We continued to walk, heading for a curtain at the far end of the room which I suspected led to another room. As we approached the curtain, I saw, to my left, a man with chains running from his nose and eyebrow piercings to his exposed nipples. Instead of a mask, his eyes and forehead were wrapped in what looked like barbed wire with streaks of what I hoped was fake blood running down his cheeks. Grotesque yet fascinating.
Holly saw him, too. She stood still, looking at him mesmerized.
From my right, what at first I thought was a painting of a wolf hung on the wall, moved and began coming toward me. Its fur was mangy and crusted with dried blood. Its long arms ended with sharp claws that caught the little light in the room and sparkled.
In a low, raspy voice, the wolf said, “My, what a shapely body you have.”
Despite the disguised voice, from his tall figure and naked chin, I recognized the wolf to be Manny—at least I was almost sure it was Manny.
“Be careful,” I said. “Ice can burn.”
Slowly, he reached for me.
I did not step away.
The tip of his claws touched my cheek then ran down my jaw.
I rolled my head back so that I could feel the claws against my neck.
He ran his paw around to the back of my neck. The fur of his hand tickled, while his sharp claws lightly pricked.
I closed my eyes. And suddenly his other paw was at my waist and he pulled me to him.
I opened my eyes. His head was arched back, and I was staring at his neck. His paw squeezed my ass and pulled me closer to him still. I felt his hard cock press against my belly.
“Manny,” I whispered, somewhere between a confirmation and a question.
His teeth met the top of my head. “I devoured Manny,” he grumbled. “And, I’ll do the same to you.”