On either side of Rip is another large male. They bare their teeth aggressively, and I fully expect Rip to say something corny like: "Well, well, what do we have here?"

He doesn't disappoint.

"Looky here, boys. Someone came out to play." His friends do that hyena laugh of theirs, but it isn't half as cute as when Eternal does it.

I am truly shit out of luck. There isn't any way I can beat them in a fight or out run them over a long distance, not with my short legs. Plus, the barks and howls of other ghouls are closing in, and all the hounds of hell will soon be on me.

The three in front of me stalk forward with the gate of predators. There's a glee in their faces as though they've grown high off of the anticipated assault. Their erections point forward. Point at me. Fleshy spears ready to be pierced into tender flesh.

Getting gang-banged by a bunch of dog-boys before being ripped apart by sharp teeth is not the ending I was hoping for, but my brain is  sluggish about coming up with a good plan to get out of it. So, I opted for an awful one instead.

"Hey, Rip," I say trying to sound calm. "I'm sure we can work something out. You seem like a reasonable-- Oh my God, behind you!" I force my face into an expression of terror and point at an imaginary threat while screeching my warning.

They turn around, and I take off.

I'm shocked they fell for it. The ghouls really are as naive as children. But I don't dwell on it as I dash between two tombs. This is Sorrow's trick, but I'm not nearly as familiar with the terrain as she is. The sound of my pursuers echoes in the fog, distorting their numbers and their location. But from what the women have said, the ghouls make there homes in the center of the yard. So, I take a few more turns, edging outward toward the wall. 

I can see it now. It looms over the last couple of rows of crypts. From my left, a loud scrabbling surges like surf as dozens of feet pound on the crushed shell path. They're not close, yet the red of their eyes show as needle points through the mist. I need to get out of sight fast. The tomb nearest to me has a large Grecian urn by its door and I climb into it. I expect it to be a tight squeeze, but my small feminine body has no problem fitting, and I nestle onto the bottom feeling as though it's a stone womb.

They come screaming and snarling in a rabid fury. Any hope of talking my way out is gone. One way or another my time here is coming to a close. Either I escape or I'll be going back to being nothing but a spirit.

Without a beating heart, I'm surprisingly calm. No adrenaline pumps through my veins to spread panic. Instead, an icy fear embraces me, when they swarm past. I can't imagine any universe where they wouldn't smell me or curiously poke a head into the urn. But somehow, they pass by, letting out howls, driving further along in their hunt, and scouring around the periphery of the cemetery. When their barks are far away, I leave the cover of my hiding place.

My legs shake and wobble, letting me know I was never really as calm as I believed. 

The break in the wall is worse than I remember. Using a pile of rubble, I raise myself high enough to reach it and pull myself up. The bottom of the V-shaped gap is narrow, and I scrape my arms and chest on the course rock getting my head through a wider part. The pool on the other side is more of a lake than I remember. Dry land is only an impression in the distance. And while the gap is four feet off the ground on the graveyard side, it's at least twenty feet from the surface of the water. Even without a monster--or monsters-- to deal with, diving in and swimming across is impossible. There's also no easing into the water either. The wall is smooth and flat without a handhold in site. The only way down is to jump, which is sure to draw the creature toward me.

I drop back down and wonder if I should check the gates again. But the longer I'm out in the open the more certain it is the ghouls will find me. If only there was a way to avoid the swamp monster or to be protected from it until it lost interest. I think of where I am and all the coffins laying about. If I could use one of them as a shell, perhaps I could survive. Except, how long would that take? Hours? Days? I'd never be able to hold my breath all that time.

Except, I don't need to breathe.

And if I don't need air, I don't necessarily have to attempt swimming. I could simply walk across the bottom. Perhaps slowly, so anything living down there doesn't notice me.

It could work. It'll be dangerous but no more so than staying here.

I rush to one of the nearby tombs to get what I need. It's nauseating poking though the dead bodies, but there's no time to be squeamish. The corpses have been devoured down to bare bone anyway. Ghoul teeth-marks notch them and many have been cracked open to get at the marrow. From some dresses and shirts, I fashion a crude rope. It takes a bit of trial and error to get it strong enough not to break apart, but I manage. Next, I clean out a child's casket. It's a macabre option, but it's the only one I can lift. It's also lead lined which I hope will give it some added structural support. It'll be a tight fit but it's roomier than the urn was.

I'm concerned about getting the diary pages wet, but the best protection I can find is a leather wallet. It has a waxy texture that I hope might equate to being waterproof. It's a long shot, but I don't have the luxury of searching other tombs.

The ghouls return as I'm contemplating the wallet. They're yipping about outside my crypt. I wait for them to move on, but this time they don't. I crack the door open to see why they're lingering. Rip is out there with a half dozen others. They're searching the tombs, one by one.

Shit. 

I retreat back inside. Maybe there's enough coffins to make a barricade. Except, moving them about would likely create enough noise to bring the ghouls down on me sooner. I'm going to have to make a run for it. I grab the papers and I'm about to put them into the wallet, when the phrase "Good for distracting enemies" catches my eye.

It's the sheet with the diagram and the strange words almost like a magic spell.

I wonder.

Back at the cracked door. I place two fingertips down against my left palm, and as I push them over and outward, I say, "Lumo, hecta, verakantay." A ball of light forms between my index and middle finger and shoots out in the direction they point. It grows and becomes a ball of blue fame bobbing along the surface of the fog. It flickers and disappears reappearing farther away. When the ghouls spot it, they go wild and race after it, until both they and my creation are gone.

I fucking just did magic! I take a second to give a little fist pump, then get to work. There's no telling how much time it's bought me. I can't waste any of it. I wrap the coil of rope around my shoulder and drag the coffin out.

At the base of the gap, I set it up to help my climb and tie the rope to one of its brass handles. It's a lot easier to get up this time. I scale the edges until I reach a point where I can stand with both feet planted firmly on either side of the break, then haul the coffin up.

It's a lot heavier pulling than lifting, but it rises a few inches off the ground and begins scrapping its way up the wall. The higher it goes, the harder it gets. I lean back to get better leverage, but slip and go scuttling down. I hang from the rope, dangling over the black, murky water. For a moment, the casket and I are in balance and neither moves, but slowly my weight begins pulling it up, sending me dropping. Then it's not slow anymore but a free-fall, until the coffin hits the gap and the rope jolts to a stop sending a tremor through my hands that almost make me lose my grip.

Hand over hand, I pulled myself up, straining with all my strength and not sure I have enough not to wind up as monster food. When I'm high enough to reach it, I thrust my hand through the crack and grabbed the coffin's handle. I use the solid grip to pull myself up the rest of the way.

The next difficulty is getting the damn thing up there with me. The crevice is tight and there isn't much room for both of us.

I cling to it as it stands upright and teeters above the water. Using the toe of my shoe, I kick the bottom part open and nudge the top with my forehead. I have one foot inside of it. when the coffin's weight shifts sending it over the side and taking me with it.

This certainly isn't how I pictured it in my head when I came up with the plan.

DemonRose

Hey, my beautiful readers! Here we are on chapter six. Eeep! I can hardly believe it. I want to thank you for coming this far with me and hope you'll let me take you farther into the strange world of my mind. I would love to hear from you, so don't be shy, my darlings.

Kisses!

DemonRose

P.S. (Do people still do that? Well, I'm doing it!)

The last two chapters have been more action-adventure than erotic, but we'll be getting to some of that good stuff real soon. Promise. Although, my dirtier chapters aren't getting the same faves as the others, so maybe you don't like those. Either way, I'll try and keep a good mixture of both going.