You knew better than to wander in to the region known for mysterious disappearances, but you were certain that it was all just covered-up crimes of passion. You convinced yourself that sleeping overnight, by yourself, was completely safe. It's not like the animals were going to kill and eat you out here...right?
This logic may not qualify you as the smartest person you know, but that's okay. It just meant you were easily discovered, sleeping soundly and oblivious in your tent. A tent without much protection against the hulking figure crouching and staring disdainfully at the softly snoring lump in front of him.
He gets an idea and sneers, standing up to slice a hole in the wall of the tent large enough to step back out. Cold enters your sleeping space as the tent blows open.
You abruptly wake up to the sharp SNAP of wings and the night air, like cold fingers, slipping into your sleeping bag. The moonlight trickling through the sliced-open hole makes it obvious that you are in trouble, and the dark silhouette wooshing through the trees around you chills your blood worse than the wind.

You run.

~~

The chase might have lasted a little longer if you hadn't clumsily faceplanted, ankle twisted on a tree root, doomed by the glance behind that felt so necessary just moments before.

He lands with a weighty thud a few feet back while your face is still pressed into the soil, and the dark, velvety chuckle from behind stirs something in your gut that you label as fear. Instinctively, you freeze, hand reaching to free your ankle from the traitorous root. The crunch of leaves, the tall, winged shadow blocking out the small bits of moonlight that would allow you see the ground beneath you, and you can't help but look up over your shoulder to meet the flash of his red eyes in the dark. You're immediately reminded of stories from Appalachia, of large mothlike beasts stealing men away in the night. Your breath hitches in your throat when he takes another step forward, the moonlight behind him glinting softly off the edge of his knife.
Before you can process what's happening, he's grabbed your shoulder to yank you over onto your back, knocking the wind out of your chest. The way he straddles your stomach to pin you down certainly doesn't help you catch your breath. And the voice that drops from his lips makes you light headed.

"Well now, what do we have here?"
You can barely make out his face as he looks you over. From what you can see, there's a smile that's just a bit too wide, teeth that are just a bit too shiny, his eyes a bit too bright, and yet all you can do is squirm underneath his weight. The feeling in your gut grows and churns, and you can feel your heart beating out of your chest. The smile slips a little from his face as he leans in, wrapping two of his chitinous hands around your wrists, knife in a third angled to press against your throat with a condescending chuckle.
"Are you REALLY making it this easy?" He pauses, eyebrow raised, pressing the blade past the bead of blood welling up from your throat. "How pathetic."
The laugh, dangerous yet somehow charming...the sharpness ready to slice you breathless...his weight still pressing down on your chest...even the dull throbbing ache of your twisted ankle. This is all too much to bear. You're certain he can feel your heart pounding, can hear the lack of oxygen getting to your brain. It's not until he barks a sharp "HA!" that you hear your own little whimpers, the desperate moans of desire.
"God. You're even more desperate than I thought. What, should I call you my pathetic little baby girl?" The mockery does nothing but make you squirm more, denial keeping you from acknowledging what you really want. "Hmph. Hey, cut that out, you're going to make me miss." Your neurons don't fire fast enough to even think about dodging, only noticing the glint of a second knife the same instant it plunges deep into your arm.

All you can do is MOAN with your whole chest because oh god oh fuck the pain is blinding but...the adrenaline has mixed weird in your brain and it's the most exquisite agony and you know there's no escape from this mothman, his eyes shining a faint red in the dark. You know that the way he's looming over you is like a predatory bird, wings cupped around their delicious meal so that nobody else can steal it from them. So that their still-living prey has no line of sight to freedom. To your horror you realize that being monopolized like this is...comforting, despite your arm now bleeding hard enough to make your fingers tingle. Despite your fear and pain making your heart stutter in your chest, the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes, you feel honored to know without a doubt that this will be your last day on this planet-ended by this monster's hands.

You have to know what's killing you, and so you gather every shred of willpower left to meet his gaze and ask, "...who are you?"

A pause from your captor, a blink, clearly caught off-guard. "Did I not introduce myself already? We've been together all night and...tsk. How shameful of me."

"My name is Kliffoth, though you can call me Kliff. Or perhaps...just for you, given your condition. I'll let you call me Kliffy. As a treat." He grins and continues, "Only my most dedicated followers get to call me Kliffy, how special for you."

You must be deranged, the way that stirs the feeling of want in your gut you've been trying to ignore all night.
"Don't worry though," the knife slides agonizingly against your humeral bone as Kliff takes his time to remove it from your arm, "shshhh it's okay you're alright. You can scream as loudly as you need aaall night, you won't bother a soul out here!"
He looks to you, looks to your arm, looks to the knife, and licks it clean with a fiendish smile.

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Pub: 06 Jun 2023 00:44 UTC

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