"Stop whining. It's just a tiny little scratch."
"Quit your damn crying. You're a man, aren't you?"
"I said, do it right! If I catch you screwing up again, you'll get an even worse beating."
"Such a fucking embarrassment. I honestly can't believe you're my son. You obviously take after that whore!"
"I said, quit fucking crying!"
"You can't do anything right, can you? I work my butt off to raise you, and all you do is screw up."
"You really can't lift that thing? So damn pathetic."
"I ought to just toss you out. Maybe a miracle will happen, and you'll actually toughen up for once."
"You think I'm leaving you anything after I'm gone? You're a walking disgrace. You don't even deserve the clothes on your back."
"Pathetic ---- ----- ----"
"---- worthless --- ---- -----"
"Can't do anyth--- --- ---"
"---- ---- weak ---- ----"
"--- --- not even worth ---- ----"
...
"mY... s..."
He opened his eyes.
When did he fall asleep, he wondered. To think that after so long, he'd been dreaming about that again. It had been so long since...
"!!"
The young man suddenly scrambled awake in a panic when he remembered that he was not in the safety of his bed at home, but on a seat in the public train. His heart racing, he quickly pulled out his phone from his pocket and breathed a sigh of relief. Good, he didn't oversleep. Considering that he was taking a visit to the Japanese countryside, the last thing he wanted to do was potentially be lost in the middle of nowhere by missing his stop. Feeling his heartrate slow back down to normal, he slumped back in his seat and peered outside the window, watching the landscape fly by while listening to the train ride along the metal tracks.
His mind went back to the dream he had. Those words. His father's words. It had been a while since he had been haunted by them. It made sense, considering he was going back home for the first time in ages. Of course it would bring back old memories. Well... that wasn't entirely the case. In truth, the words never left him, not even for a moment. But it had been a long time since they were so vivid in his head. His childhood. His miserable, unhappy childhood.
The young man was born in that old village. Born to the village leader: a strong, frightening, and extremely strict man who just had to be his father. He was a disappointment to his father since day one, being born with none of the strength, confidence, or stoicism demanded of him. He could barely lift anything heavy, cried all the time, got scared by pretty much everything. It almost felt like cosmic irony that he was born with the exact opposite of everything his father wanted in a son. So great was Father's disappointment that he refused to call his son by his actual name. Instead, opting to call him "Loser".
"I might as well just call you Loser from now on. Prissy little flowers those things are, just like you," he spat.
Yeah, Lane was his name. Luscious white shoulder-length hair, lovely golden eyes, soft lips, smooth, fair skin. The constant abuse, both verbal and physical, that he had to endure almost every single day. Lane hated every moment of it. Made even worse by the fact that he had no mother to counterbalance his father's cruelty. Lane never knew his mother, only learning that she apparently died in childbirth, leaving him devoid of a mother's love. And being at the complete mercy of his father only made things worse for the poor boy. He honestly couldn't remember ever being happy at home. The only moment of happiness he remembered was...
Her...
It happened only once back in that village, when he was just a child. He remembered running out into the forest when the harsh abuse from his father became too much for him. Lane ran out in tears, wanting to get away from everything, wanting and hoping that something could make him disappear. But instead, he found a strange and mysterious woman.
She was so beautiful. Incredibly tall, with eerie pale skin that seemed more fitting for a corpse, and long black hair that went past her hips. She wore a white thin dress that was worn loosely at best, almost ready to slip off at any moment. Her breasts were... enormous, far larger than any woman should be able to have. The dress exposed the deep cleft of her cleavage, and they bounced with the slightest movement. The rest of her was equally voluptuous. Her hips were wide, legs shapely, and her belly was plump, sticking out a few inches. Everything about her radiated pure, maternal beauty.
Lane remembered being frozen in place when he saw her. He was too young and innocent at the time to be affected by her attractive body, but even back then, his breath was taken away by the woman. But a part of him was also afraid. She didn't feel real. She was too tall, too big, her skin too off color. He couldn't see her eyes, her face covered by her long hair. She seemed inhuman, like a ghost.
The woman walked towards the boy, her steps creating no noise. It was only then that Lane realized there was no noise at all. No wind, no rustling of leaves, nothing. He wanted to run, but his body wouldn't move. The woman took step after step to him, her breasts bouncing, hips rocking, and a slight bounce of her plush belly. Lane couldn't move.
When she reached her arms out to him, Lane feared that she might end his life right there. Her pale arms and large hands with long fingernails made him afraid of getting sliced to death. But... he didn't feel any pain, or the sudden embrace of death. Instead, she was very gentle. He felt... warmth... softness. The tall woman lifted him in her arms. Lane heard noise again: the sound of her breathing, a soft voice. She hugged him to her bosom. Lane felt warm... safe.
He could see part of the woman's face through her hair. So gorgeous even with just the slight peek of her features... Her plump, pursed lips covered in black lipstick let out gentle wisps of air. Lane couldn't look away.
The woman leaned into Lane's face. Her lips moved, whispering something.
"-- ---- ---"
He couldn't hear the words, but...
The next thing he knew, he stood right back outside the forest, like nothing had happened. Lane couldn't recall how he got back. The mysterious woman was gone. He still couldn't tell if it was all just a dream or not. But that experience stuck with him ever since. He didn't know why he considered that a happy memory. It should have terrified him, but for some reason, it didn't. Perhaps because of how the woman held him. There was a gentleness to it, a tenderness that made Lane felt like it cared for him. A feeling he could never let go of.
Perhaps that was why he made the decision to return home. To everyone else, Lane had given the excuse of visiting home to mourn his father's sudden passing. The news had been broken to him by a letter he received by an anonymous sender. Though he didn't know the sender, the letter clearly had intimate knowledge of the hometown he grew up in, and that proved to Lane that it was factual. But truthfully, Lane had no love for his father. He honestly couldn't think of a single instance where that man showed kindness to him. If anything, he felt the slightest bit of relief knowing he was gone, even if he hadn't spoken to Father in years after leaving. Lane left for the city the very same day he reached his eighteenth birthday, and hadn't looked back for years until today. But the image of that woman, that strange ghost-like woman. He didn't understand why, but Lane simply could not forget her. And he knew that he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it until he got some kind of closure. Just to confirm to himself that it was just a strange dream and nothing more, if only to fully close the book on his childhood.
The sounds of metal began to slow down, indicating the arrival at the next stop. Lane's stop. Grabbing his bag, he quietly made his exit after the train came to a full halt.
An odd nostalgia filled him as he walked along the road towards his hometown. How strange that he would still maintain some fondness for his hometown considering how much torment it brought him all his life. It changed a lot less than he expected. Same small stores, same streets, same light posts, same signs. He wandered through the path he memorized, paying little attention to anything.
Perhaps he should had paid more attention. Because then he would have the noticed the stark lack of people, or the startling absence of noise, or the strange white-pale fog that slowly grew denser the further he made his way in.
It was only when he arrived right outside the entrance to his village did the alarm bells in his head finally catch his attention. The young man craned his head, trying to peer past the fog to see the various buildings and houses. Where was everybody? He could at least understand why he didn't see anybody while walking alone the forest path towards his hometown, it never had too many people treading along it. But... there was always people walking the roads and paths inside the village. But now... there was nobody.
Lane swallowed, trying to mentally repress the feeling of panic inside him. It was nothing, it had to be nothing. Maybe it was just the fog, and they went inside due to the lack of visibility. That had to be it.
But as he walked further and further inside the town, his fears grew. No, something was definitely wrong. Not only was there nobody to be seen, he didn't hear any people either. No sounds of families chatting inside the various houses, no lights to signify the presence of anyone living there, and....
Through the various homes, there were signs of damage. Torn walls, broken chairs, fallen stone barriers, and some buildings which seemed to have collapsed entirely. Did a natural disaster happen here? A tsunami? A tornado? Was that why he didn't see anybody? Was the town abandoned? He clutched on to his bag for security, even though the bag contained nothing but a single change of clothes and a few items. He had no weapons of any kind. If there was something out there or someone, he would have no way to...
Lane shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought. It was nothing... it was nothing... nothing was wrong... Just a nasty storm was all. And the people simply evacuated. In fact, he should just leave now and come back another-
"!!!" He froze. Just as he was about to turn and leave, the cruelty of fate showed him something that shattered his veil of denial.
Blood.
A stain of red coming out of the torn-open door of a nearby house. He recognized that house. It was the house that one of his bullies lived at when he was a child. A musclebound meathead who always mocked him for being a "pathetic flowerboy". So many times that child would laugh at him, hit him, strip him down so the other boys could mock him. So many horrible memories. The parents were little better, always throwing disapproving glances at Lane, calling him a tainted child.
But that same house was practically in ruins. The entrance door torn right off, several walls which massive holes punched through them, and pieces of wood and cloth scattered through the front yard. And that blood stain that led inside...
Lane took small steps towards the house. He had to know what happened to them. Were they still inside? Were they hiding? Were they...
Entering the house, he saw chaos. Practically everything was destroyed: furniture in pieces, paintings torn apart, fragile objects shattered, appliances crushed, nothing was spared. Lane's breath and heart rate quickened. No, this wasn't some natural occurrence. It was too deliberate, like someone purposely targeted it. But who? Drawn by that thought, he moved further in the house, his nose picking up the scent of more blood. He walked into the bedroom, and-
"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!"
He screamed.
Blood.
Severed arm.
Organs ripped out.
Bodies.
Dead bodies.
The boy, or man, who had tormented Lane for so long, was there. Dead. No, not just dead. Mutilated. His limbs broken and twisted before being torn off. Organs pulled out one by one. Every tooth ripped out. Knives and shards of glass piercing every inch of his torso. And his expression frozen in agony. He was horrifically murdered.
Lane screamed, tears building at the corners of his eyes. Bile rose in his throat, and it took everything he had not to vomit. He turned his eyes away to avoid looking at the carnage anymore, but no matter where he turned his eyes, he saw more blood. And the blood was written into words.
"WRETCH"
"SCUM"
"BURN IN HELL"
"DESERVED"
"REVENGE FOR MY SON"
Lane saw those words written all over the walls and floor. A murder, undoubtedly a murder. But by who? Were they the cause of all of this? How could one person do all of this? His eyes darting around, he saw that his once-bully was not the only victim. His parents, too, were killed, though much less gruesomely. Instead, they simply had their chests punctured, as if someone shoved their fist right through them.
Lane could not describe the emotions he felt. Most of them were expected: fear, disgust, terror, shock, but there was also a bit of...
Joy.
He felt shame for feeling that way. It was wrong to think that. But these people hurt him so much. A sick part of him couldn't help but experience just the tiniest bit of relief at seeing the same pain they inflicted on him on their faces. He tried to distract himself from his dark thoughts by checking for any hints, any evidence of who might have killed them. It didn't take long to find it. A piece of paper gripped in the dead mother's hand. There were red stains on the paper, and it almost seemed to glow just very slightly, almost like it wanted to be found. The young man gritted his teeth, trying his best to ignore the blood and gore as he made his way to the dead woman. His cautiously pulled the letter from her gripping hand, and immediately pulled his hand back, fearful that she might suddenly leap out at him like a zombie.
Taking deep breaths to calm himself down, Lane unfolded the paper and read the text written on it.
"They all died the same way. We could never predict it. We could never protect against it. We tried everything. Prayers, seals, guards, weapons. Nothing worked. It didn't matter whether it was the light of day or the shadow of night. It always ended the same. Another victim, another soul taken by her. That demon which seeks our ruin, our damnation. I fear that it might be a warning of something even worse to come. For now, it's just a body every other day. But tomorrow, it might come for all of us. We never should hav-"
The letter stopped there, as if she was found and killed in the middle of writing it. Lane's thoughts ran through his head. It sounded like mere superstition. Like a haunted spirit was killing people one by one, before eventually coming back to snuff them all out for good.
"Another soul taken by her."
A woman was the killer? As soon as he reread that sentence, the image of that woman flashed through his head. The mysterious, almost ghostly woman he met as a child. Was it her? No, it couldn't have been. Lane still wasn't sure if that day was even real. But now the seed of curiosity had been planted. He needed to know more. He left the house in search for more bodies. He had the strong feeling that the more he searched, the more he would learn about the perpetrator.
The fact that he was spurred on more by curiosity rather than a sense of justice was not lost on him. He should have been more horrified. He should have felt more disgusted at the grisly sight he had just witnessed. But the bitterness of his childhood left a greater impact on him that even he realized. He still felt bad for their deaths, but... only a little.
Lane searched for another house. A house that contained another one of his tormentors from his youth. A pair of brothers and a sister, each of them who had humiliated him when he was young. The boys hurt him for similar reasons like any other guy did. They mocked and hated him for his feminine appearance and voice, calling him a failure of a man. But the sister was no better. She seemed to resent him for being so naturally pretty, her words always filled with venom when she spoke to him. When Lane entered their home, it was in a similar state as the previous house. Utterly wrecked. And as he expected, the siblings and their parents were dead, murdered in ways that clearly indicated torture. The boys had their eyes gouged out and limbs twisted so much that the joints stuck out in unnatural ways. The girl was straight up beheaded. The parents both hanged from the ceiling with ropes tied around their necks. Though it was clear that the parents did not do so willingly, as evidenced by their bloody marks and tears on the fingers. Clear signs of struggle to free themselves. And again, there were words written in blood on the walls.
"REVENGE FOR MY SON"
"YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME"
"TAKEN FROM MY WOMB"
"HIDEOUS BEASTS IN HUMAN SKIN"
"DIE"
Lane's face was like stone. Similar emotions running through him like before. But this time, there was less revulsion and terror, and just slightly more relief and joy, knowing that his tormentors were gone. He checked for a letter, and sure enough, he found it. A few letters actually, seemingly glowing just ever so slightly. These appeared much older than the first, as if written years ago. He read through each one.
"She was never the same when she learned of her pregnancy with a baby boy. The moment she realized she carried a son, it was like all love she had for everything else had vanished. She barely acknowledged her husband's existence, not caring in the slightest that he was the town's head that she married. She looked upon the rest of us as if we were nothing but specks of dust. Instead, she spent every single day stroking her full belly, cradling her unborn child inside her. She did nothing else, just rubbing her heavy stomach, obsession in her eyes. We dismissed it as just the excited jitters and mania of a new mother-to-be. Perhaps she was just more eager than most new mothers.
But we knew something was wrong when she kept refusing to prepare clothes, bedding, or toys for the baby. She dismissed them, deeming them unnecessary, saying her son had no reason to leave her womb. We thought it a joke at first, but as the months passed, her insistence became alarming. No number of warnings or pleading dissuaded her. She refused any notion of preparing for her child's birth, seemingly convinced that the baby would never leave her womb. It was like she never wanted him to leave her, to never be born...
When we investigated, we saw the taint of evil on her. Forbidden scrolls and words of dark spirits found hidden away in her room. Dark rituals, trying to trap her unborn son in her stomach forever, never to see the light of day. We realized that she had fallen to evil, and needed to be executed immediately lest her corruption threaten the rest of us. We can only mourn the unborn son, for he is surely already stained by his mother's evil as well. It brings us no joy, but the son must join his mother in death. Only the holy flame can cleanse their poisoned spirits."
"I still remember the day she was put to death. Tied to the pole before it was lit by holy flame. Even as her execution happened, she laughed and gibbered madly. She kept speaking about her son, ranting and spewing words of madness. She kept saying how her son belonged to her womb, how her womb yearned for him, how her womb sang songs of him. Always the womb. Over and over. She was truly mad. Good riddance for getting rid of her, I say. Hopefully that's the last we ever hear of that woman."
Lane felt a pit in his stomach reading these. The material in them was disturbing. A woman so desperate for a child, yet also determined to never let them be born. Crazed ravings of wanting to keep them in her womb? The words themselves were bizarre, but what unnerved Lane most of all was that when he put the pieces together, it forced him to realize some very disturbing implications.
Never knowing his mother. His mother supposedly dying in childbirth. That mysterious woman he met as a child who seemed to care for him. These letters describing a series of deaths linked to what might be a woman seeking vengeance for her son. The writings on the wall that seemed to match that motivation. And all this talk of her womb. Wanting to keep her son inside her womb. That wasn't meant to be literal... was it? But if it was...
N-no. It couldn't have been him. That woman couldn't have been his mother. She was killed, burned to death for her crimes. And the baby was apparently burned along with her. There was no way it was related to him in any way...
....M-maybe he should leave. He was here for too long. This was leading in a very grim direction. Clutching his bag, he hastily walked, or rather ran, outside.
"W-what?!" Lane gasped. The sky had gone dark. The fog was thicker than ever, but the sky had gone almost pitch black. What was going on!? It was still the afternoon when he arrived. It couldn't have been that long since he got here.
Haunted. This place truly was haunted! He believed it. He desperately didn't want to believe it, but it was all real. He had to run, NOW!
He turned to the direction he came from, but immediately felt his heart sink. He couldn't see past the fog. It was far too thick. He couldn't see anything past it. Just pure dark pale. A sickening chill ran down Lane's spine. The fog seemed to be reaching out to him, as if trying to consume him whole.
"Fu..... fu..."
A voice.
Laughter.
A woman's laughter.
Someone was there.
Lane clenched his teeth, trying desperately not to scream, shaking in terror, covered in cold sweat. Through the fog, he saw something even darker than the choking mist. A figure. The outline of a person. A very tall, towering figure with a feminine shape.
Lane could not hold back his voice. He screamed. He ran. He turned back and ran deeper in the village where the fog was still thin. His bag was left on the ground, abandoned. He couldn't go back the way he came, not with that blocking the path. He had no choice but to go deeper in the village and hide. He ran faster than he had ever ran his entire life. He tasted fear in his mouth, feeling the tendrils of cold fog gripping at him. He went inside the first open building that became visible to him, tumbling to the ground when he tripped over his feet.
Scrambling, he crawled under a nearby table and hid, curled up into a ball while letting out weak sobs. He felt foolish and helpless. He had no plan, no idea what to do. He just hid and prayed that whatever was in that fog wouldn't find him. Tears poured from his eyes. Why… why did he bother coming here? Why did he feel like he had to come back here in the first place? Was getting closure that important? He never even liked this place! He hated it! Why was he so damn stupid!?
Amid Lane's self-loathing, he eventually realized that whatever he encountered… seemed to be… gone? He didn't hear anything anymore. No voice, and the fog didn't grow any stronger. Was he safe… at least, for now?
Only after the panic subsided did Lane finally notice the smell of death entering his nostrils. Looking up, he realized why. Another dead body. He recognized the slain man. A priest. A person he remembered seeing often as a child. A man who, despite his faith, treated Lane with just as much disdain as so many others. No, if anything, he was even worse. He often spat at the boy, calling him a demon child. His death was every bit as gruesome as the previous victims. Suspended in the air by his own intestines, cut up like butchered cattle. And gripped in his hand was another letter with a faint glow. Just like before, something about the glow enticed him. Lane slowly reached out, taking the letter from the man's hand, and reading the crumpled note.
"Why didn't you heed my warning? I told you such a thing would happen. I told you leaving that child alive was a terrible mistake. It was still alive, under the mother's charred ashes and remains. What other explanation could there be for the baby surviving holy flame than the touch of a demon's hand? So many times I tried to convince you that the boy was already lost, but you refused to let me exorcise him. What was it that possessed you to think your actions were wise? Were you so desperate for a son that you felt even a demon infant would suffice? Were you perhaps trying to spite your wife by raising the boy when she refused to let him be born? That boy will undoubtedly take after its demon mother, not you. I doubt it will even resemble you. It's too tainted, too stained. The mark of his mother can never be removed. And now her spirit has returned, surely to take vengeance for her empty womb. Know that you have doomed us all. I can only hope and pray that when she inevitably comes for you, your damned spirit will join us all in the black pits of hell."
Lane's hand shook as he read the letter. He remembered. Things long ago that his father used to say to him.
"You should be grateful to me, boy. I could have just let you rot in your mother's ashes."
"I pulled you out of your mother's ashes, and this is the thanks I get?!"
He never gave it a second thought, thinking it was just a turn of phrase. A reference to the fact that his mother was cremated after her death. At least, that's what Lane thought. But he never knew that this was what his father meant. Then it was true, that crazed woman who was executed was his mother. And he was her child. He was the baby who somehow survived being set aflame. He was the one who the ghostly spirit was after. He was the one that-
*CRASH*
The wall of the nearby bedroom burst open, causing a burst of noise so loud that it terrified Lane to the point his heart nearly stopped.
"Haaaahhhh....!!!" A voice, a harsh, piercing voice. Its voice echoed through the halls, reverberating through Lane's very soul. She was close, VERY close!
Lane scrambled to his feet and ran. He had no time to think. He sprinted out of the house, and was met with thick, dark pale fog. He sought out where the fog was the thinnest, where he had the slightest bit of visibility, and ran to it. He knew. The spirit was hunting him down. The demon spirit.
His mother's...
No! He still didn't want to admit it. He still didn't want to acknowledge it. But what he did know was that it was after him. The spirit was not benevolent. It wanted blood. It wanted death. It wanted him. He kept running, feeling more and more trapped. He could tell that he was only getting farther and farther away from an exit. The fog was simply too thick to see anywhere else, and he was too terrified of the unknown to try going anywhere but where he could at least see in front of him. He was going to die here. His life was about to end.
He saw a house in the distance, the only one visible through the mist. He recognized it instantly. His house. The place where he once lived. Lane's pace slowed down, resignation filling the young man. He was led here on purpose. Everything from the letters to the bodies he witnessed. It was all to trap him here. Perhaps even the initial letter notifying him of his father's death was also just a lure to bring him here.
Left with no choice, Lane entered the house.
He saw his father.
To say he was dead, murdered, or tortured would not be sufficient to describe what happened to him. He was completely unrecognizable, but Lane knew it was him. Lane thought that the deaths of the previous victims were gruesome and cruel. He was wrong. If anything, their fates were a mercy. What was done to Father did not compare. His fate was the worst of all. His skin…
There was no skin.
His organs, each turned into unrecognizable mush.
His bones, each shattered and broken into pieces.
His muscle fibers, his ligaments, each meticulously twisted, peeled, and stretched so thin that his remains were strewn across the entire room.
His face, or what was left of it, locked in an expression of pure torment and agony, as if his soul was experiencing endless pain, even after death.
Lane turned away from it, unable to look anymore. Filled with fear, disgust… but…. very little pity.
He would have thought on it more, until he heard it.
"Fuuu.... Fuuuu...."
Lane's heart raced. He froze. He didn't run. He couldn't run. He had nowhere left to go. This was the end. He was going to die here. His life, full of so many regrets, so little happiness. His short-lived life where he experienced nothing but pain and rejection, without the love of...
Through the open doorway, past the thick fog, he saw the tall figure. Becoming closer and closer, hearing its voice.
"Fuuu... fuuuuu..... fuuuuuuuu....."
"No…" Lane tried his hardest to steel himself. To at least have some level of dignity in the face of death. He only hoped that his death would be swift.
The figure finally revealed itself from the fog, stepping into the home.
He saw her at last.
It was her. Lane recognized her. The same woman from when he was young. A massively tall woman, over 8 feet in height, with long black hair that went past her hips, skin colored pale, and a loosely worn white dress. Fear gripped Lane's heart. He expected the greatest of horror to consume him completely, but it didn't. It didn't, because there was another emotion that swelled in Lane. An emotion that he was deeply, deeply ashamed of. Something that he should definitely not feel, but he did. Because he couldn't help but acknowledge an undeniable fact about this woman.
Her sinfully erotic body.
In the past, he was far too young to even take notice of it, but as an adult, his eyes stared at the magnificent curves of this sinister ghost. The loose dress revealed the deep line of cleavage of her massive breasts. Truly enormous breasts that far exceeded the size of her own head, yet somehow remaining perfectly shaped and with just the right amount of sag despite their size. And below her large breasts was her plump belly, plush with excess flesh that stuck out several inches, creating a muffin top that gave her a more maternal appearance, making her more darkly alluring. The outline of her wide hips and plump thighs showed clearly through the dress, leading down to her slim bare feet. The fact that she didn't even need shoes or heels to be this tall was shocking.
And the ghostly woman's face was the most beautiful of all. Plump lips colored blood red, perfectly proportioned features, and most of all, her glowing, gold eyes, shining with supernatural power. She peered at the helpless Lane with a deep, piercing stare right into his soul. And her psychotic grin which showed just how much she loved having her new prey before her.
This demon was the epitome of sin, radiating malevolence and corrupted maternal charm. And Lane could not take his eyes off her, even despite his terror. The ghost slowly walked towards him, taking slow steps while swaying her hips. Her huge breasts bounced with each step, causing heat to swell in the feminine young man. He couldn't resist the blood coursing into a certain part of him between his legs. He couldn't move, shaking in place out of fear and lust..
"I..."
She spoke. Her very words sharp, heavy, and echoing through the room, and perhaps reality itself.
"... found you..."
Her smile grew.
"...my dear son..."
The world went still for Lane. The words of the ghostly woman rattling his entire world. The thin veil of denial that he built around his heart, the insistence that this might still be just a coincidence or misunderstanding, all of it shattered in that instant. He knew… he always knew. Every bit of evidence pointed to that obvious conclusion. But to hear it directly from her made everything truly fall into place.
And her golden eyes. The same color as his.
This woman... she really was...
"M...mother?"
Lane felt his throat go dry, his body still shaking so badly he couldn't move. The revelation scrambled his mind. He couldn't believe it. All this time, his mother was actually. But... if she really was his mom, then that meant... all the people she killed... his father being butchered, the dark rituals.
The fear, which had subsided slightly, returned intensely. If everything he learned was true, then his mother had become a demon. A demon that slaughtered so many people, and maybe ready to do the same to him.
"Ah!" Lane yelped when Mother stood right in front of him. He had to lift his head all the way up just to see her, and he gulped when all he saw was the enormous bosom of his mother. He suddenly felt a surge of shame when he realized that he was eyeing up his own mom. Even if a demon, he shouldn't be staring at her like this.
He gasped again when Mother bent down to get a closer look at him. Lane's eyes filled with the image of Mother's face so close to him. She was even more gorgeous up close, her glowing gold eyes, her plump lips colored in black lipstick, and... her breasts. They heavy globes of flesh hanging down, looking so massive and soft, so heavy they pulled the dress straps down slightly to expose Mother's bare shoulders, nearly revealing her nipples.
Lane forced himself to keep eye contact, but Mother's eyes and sinister grin unnerved him greatly.
"Found you..... at last...." she spoke slowly, words seemingly difficult for her to form, her voice reverberating through Lane's very being and the air around him.
"M....Mo...." Lane stammered, trying to beat down the mixture of fear and arousal in him.
"Ah!" Lane flinched when the massive woman suddenly grabbed him from under his shoulders. He panicked, afraid that she might slice him to pieces, but she did nothing of the sort. Instead, she lifted him in the air with shocking ease, and...
Hugged him.
Lane's heart pounded, feeling the ghost woman's huge breasts press into his body, and her powerful arms loop around his back. She hugged him tightly, her body surprisingly warm and so very soft.
"Ah.!" Lane was overwhelmed. Mother's face was so close to his. He could see her beautiful face so clearly. Her eyes glowed with otherworldly power. He couldn't look away.
"My.... precious son..." She whispered, "All mine.... once more.... Mommy... has been yearning for you.... for so long.... my womb.... quivering..... thinking of you....."
"Moth...er...." Lane strained, his body so weak, easily overpowered by Mother's strength.
"Removed… the vermin… who mistreated you… they… can't hurt you… anymore…"
"And now.... my beloved son.... is with me.... again.... so.... happy..... we.... can be.... together.... forever...."
"Mmn!"
Mother leaned in and captured Lane's lips in a kiss.
The young man's eyes bulged, his mother's actions stunning him perhaps more than the horrific murders and the otherworldly events that had transpired did. His own mother, an undead demon ghost, kissing him. A kiss that was anything but motherly. Her large, soft lips smothered his, her half-closed eyes locking with his.
Lane tried feebly to pull back, but Mother's strength was much greater. He couldn't escape. Mother's lips kissed him, filled with obsessive passion. She hugged him tighter, making the young man sink further in her massive breasts.
After nearly a minute of their lips in loving contact, Mother ended the kiss with a loud smack, but Lane barely had time to recover before she took his lips again. Lane's body filled with growing warmth.
His mom's lips felt... so... good...
He couldn't fight it...
His body became hot, and limp. His mind became hazy and foggy.
His mother let out soft moans, expressing her deranged love for her son, and her voice was joined by Lane's weak whimpers, unable to resist the pleasure.
The kiss ended again, but the air around them changed, becoming more heated. Lane did not realize that his lips became slightly pursed, ready to receive another. Mother cooed at him, her gaze filled with love and desire for her beloved son. She leaned in and kissed him again. Lane could not stop the moan from escaping his throat. He could not stop his body from kissing back. The shame of being kissed by his own mother became drowned by the pleasure.
Mother's kisses became shorter, but more passionate and frequent. Her lips parted slightly before pressing them over Lane's lips, dominating his mouth. Every kiss left large black lipstick marks on Lane's lips and face. Again and again she kissed him, with Lane's body responding more with each passionate kiss. The room, despite being covered in ruins, blood, and cold-blooded carnage, eventually became filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, moans, and endless smacking of lips. Lane's erection was fully hard, pressing against his mom's belly. It felt too good to stop.
He soon felt Mother's tongue firmly entering his mouth. He moaned, not fighting back as her tongue touched his. Her large, hot, wet tongue rubbed and swirled against his, taking him with ease.
"My.... son.... my... precious.... baby.... boy...." Mother said between deeper and deeper kisses. Her tongue hungrily explored Lane's mouth, devouring him and drinking in his essence. Lane's expression was dazed, his mind consumed with pleasure. He surrendered to his body, kissing his mother back. The two made out for nearly half an hour. Mother and son, lost in the throes of forbidden passion. She moaned, loving her son's taste. He moaned too, overwhelmed by his mother's loving kisses. Their constant kissing threatened to last forever, if not for his mother taking notice of Lane's erection poking her stomach.
Their lips separated at last, leaving Lane out of breath and barely conscious, but still so very aroused.
The ghostly woman let out a slow yet tender laugh, "Fu...fu.... my son.... loves his Mommy so much.... Mommy is.... very happy... and... my son thinks... Mommy is.... very pretty.... too...." She purposefully rubbed her belly on Lane's erection, earning a slight moan out of him.
"Ah... m-mother..." Lane tried to protest, Mother's actions bringing his mind back from the haze, but he felt a different sensation when his lower body suddenly felt a breeze. He slightly panicked, feeling his pants and underwear being removed. His protest quickly turned into a gasp of breath as he felt his mother's large hand cup his bare butt.
"Let Mommy... take care of you... my dear son..." Mother purred, her hand slowly rubbing Lane's butt. His butt was shapely and slender, appearing no different than the butt of a woman, and so sensitive, too.
"Mmm..." She planted tender kisses all over Lane's face, leaving black kiss marks and filling him with paralyzing pleasure. Mother's kisses, her touch, it all felt so good. He couldn't deny the strange thrill coursing through his body. The sinful thrill of this sexy, ghostly woman, his undead mother, the woman who gave birth to him, touching him in such a forbidden way. He let out a soft sigh, feeling his clothes being removed. The touch of her big hands and long black fingernails brought pleasure to her son's body. Lane's pants and underwear slipped off onto the floor. His shoes and socks joined them. His shirt slowly taken off. His mother's large, womanly, pale hands took everything off. He felt the cool air kissing every inch of his body.
His mother held him in the air in front of her, Lane now as naked as the day he was born. His slender, feminine, slightly curvy body exposed for his mother to see. Lane felt small, vulnerable and exposed, being held up in a manner no different than a mother holding up their infant child. It felt wrong, but also... right. To be seen naked by his own mom. Was it not a mother's natural right to be able to see their child in the nude? And Lane, having been denied a mother's affection all his life, was so desperate for the love of a mother, so intensely in need of a mom to heal his lonely heart, that even now, despite being surrounded by blood and corpses, despite his mother being a demon, his heart couldn't help but yearn for more...
Mother's eyes beamed at him with twisted maternal love. And feeling her stare only made his erection twitch. His hard cock, slightly above average in size, and his swollen testicles, the only physical evidence of his male sex in sharp contrast to his lithe body.
"My son... so beautiful... takes after his mommy~..." Mother adored the sight of her naked son. Her gaze fell on Lane's stiff length, which only made her smile grow.
"Fu...fu... my son loves Mommy's body... it's... okay.... my beloved.... you can look.... at Mommy... as much as.... you want..."
As if controlled by an unseen force, Mother's dress slipped off her body, unraveling like ribbons. Lane gasped when he witnessed the cloth fall from his mother's body. And soon, she was just as naked as Lane. Mother and son, naked together. He saw everything. Mother's pale skinned, gorgeous curvy body, an embodiment of maternal beauty. Her enormous perfectly shaped breasts, her dark, black colored nipples stiff and erect, her plump belly, her childbearing hips, her thick legs, and the small patch of black pubic hair between her legs. Her demonic body was so... so...
"Haaahh.... Mother.... I... ahh..." Lane's breathing rate shot up. His heart pounded. He became so heated that sweat beaded on his skin. Lust raged within his body, overpowering his morals and ethics. He shouldn't be feeling this way from his own mother, but the lust raged in him regardless. He couldn't stop staring at his naked mother.
"Fu...fu..." She laughed again, loving the feeling of her son's eyes on her, "Don't... be ashamed... there's nothing wrong.... with a son.... seeing his mommy... naked..."
Lane, despite his mental struggle, openly stared at his naked mother, his cock becoming so hard that it was almost painful. Being given permission to stare, for some reason, made it harder to resist. It was like some part of him, deep down, was already subservient to his mother. A part of him that already acknowledged this woman as his mom, accepted her as an authority, and as her son, it was his purpose to obey.
Perhaps unable to resist her excitement anymore, the ghostly woman said in a lustful hiss, "Come, darling!"
"Mmm!" Lane's voice cut off when his mother embraced him again, causing the smaller young man to become buried in the valley of ghostly breasts. Lane's cock became squeezed deep with his mother's belly fat. Mother did not waste any time. She shoved her tongue in Lane's mouth, pinned him to her body with one arm, and groped his curvy butt with her other hand. Lane moaned in Mother's mouth, giving in so much faster than before. The pleasure and dizzying feeling of kissing felt too good. He kissed her back, consumed by the guilty pleasure.
But a new pleasure welled in his stiff erection. Mother, using her great strength, forced Lane to hump her plush stomach, pushing him up and down her massive body. The cool, excess flesh of her belly surrounded every inch of Lane's cock. Never in Lane's life did he imagine receiving pleasure by literally fucking a woman's belly fat, but the explosive pleasure was undeniable.
"Mmm... ahhh! AHHH!" Lane's voice became louder by the minute, eventually causing him to break the kiss. The combination of being kissed, feeling his mom's enormous tits and stiff nipples pressing into him, and his cock being forced to fuck her belly. All of it brought levels of pleasure he never knew possible.
Mother cooed in delight watching her son writhe in pleasure. Her haunted voice continued to fill his ears.
"My son... do you... feel it? ... Mommy's womb... it's missed you... for so long..."
Lane didn't respond, too overwhelmed by the pleasure assaulting his body, but it was true. He did feel it. Even through the layer of belly fat, Lane felt it. A pulsating warmth, so needy that he could feel it. Mother's womb. The thoughts of the letters he read from before flashed in his head, creating a feeling of danger. A fear of what she might do to him. But the lust, the pleasure, the arousal, it was all too much. It overwhelmed everything else. He kept moaning, louder and louder, letting his girly voice out.
"My son.... such lovely moans.... Mommy is... so happy.... don't stop... keep enjoying Mommy's body.... Mommy is only for you... my son.... my treasure..."
She used her lips to capture Lane's tongue that stuck out. She sucked on Lane's tongue, slurping and bathing it in saliva. Controlled by his mother's movements and his lust, Lane humped his mother's belly faster and harder. Sweat poured down the boy's body, his skin inflamed with lust so great that his mother's cool skin only enhanced the pleasure. Moaning in desperate ecstasy, Lane flung his arms around his mother's waist, using the grip to make it easier to hump her belly. Soon, his legs joined suit, wrapping around Mother's waist. Clinging to his mommy, his head buried so deeply within the valley of tits that only his face was visible, Lane gave in to his desire, humping his mother as much as he could.
"Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Mother! M-Mother! Oh!" Frenzied noises came out of Lane's mouth. His high-pitched moans, sounding no different than a girl, spilled from his mouth with no end. He couldn't control himself, humping Mother like a wild beast. His eyes partially rolled up in his head, mindlessly thrusting his cock between Mother's belly folds. Amidst the wild pleasure, he could see his mother smiling down at his head buried in titflesh.
"Ahh... my son... my baby... he too, misses... Mommy's womb...," Mother whispered, still groping her son's butt as it furiously humped her flesh, "Don't stop... my darling... keep going... make love to... Mommy's womb..."
Her erotic words spurred Lane on. He fucked her belly fat faster and faster. He felt it. It was coming. His vision growing white. An intense heat traveling up his cock. The pleasure reaching its peak. He was about to cum. He was going to cum. Cumming. Cumming. Cumming!
"Mommy... loves... you..."
"!!!"
Hearing those words. His mother's love.
The dam broke.
"OOOOOOOOHHHH!!!" Lane howled, his limbs clinging to the tall ghostly woman so tightly with every ounce of his strength. His mind burst in pure ecstasy. He came, harder than he had ever came his entire life. An enormous amount of semen burst from his cock, creating loud squeezing and squirting sounds from the area where his crotch was buried in his mother's belly. The boy squirmed, shuddered, and spasmed under his mom's grip, his toes curling, his body shaking. He kept cumming, letting out a volume of semen that was inhuman. Thick spurts of white liquid splattered outward, covering the ghostly woman's waist and lower body, creating a pool of sticky white on the floor.
"Ahh.... my son's.... semen... so... lovely.... keep cumming.... my darling... let out more... for me..."
Lane's body obeyed her command. His body recognizing her as his mom, obeying her as any son should. Lane screamed out his pleasure with abandon, unable to hold his blissful voice back. His shudders and spasms continued for over a minute, releasing all the cum for his dear mother. After letting out so much semen, he finally came down from his mind-rending peak, light-headed and delirious with pleasure.
"Mmm..." Mother bent her head down to take Lane's lips in a tender yet deep kiss. Lane moaned into the kiss, instinctively kissing her back, drowning in the rapidly growing, debaucherous bond between mother and son.
"My... dear... son..." She spoke after breaking the kiss, "Mommy loves you... so much... my womb... wants you... so badly..."
She slowly lowered Lane to the ground, but she kept holding on to him because the boy's legs were like jelly. The semen covering the ghostly woman's body slowly disappeared, as if being absorbed by her.
"Mm... my baby's essence... delicious..." Mother sighed with unrestrained hunger, as if she had just tasted the most delectable treat.
"Ooh..." Lane let out another soft moan when his mother leaned down to whisper to his ear. The feeling of her huge breasts smothering his chest making him moan.
"Mommy... can't wait anymore... my womb... needs you... back where... you belong..."
"Hueh?" Lane let out a confused noise. Suddenly, that cold fear, that fear that had been temporarily smothered by the heat of lust, began to chill him to the core once more. He looked up, seeing the sinister, almost evil grin of his hauntingly beautiful mother, the golden glow of her eyes making him shiver.
"M-Mother...? What... do you mean?" Lane asked, dreading what he might hear. He had been denying it from the beginning. The words written in those letters. The panicked thoughts and words of the doomed villagers.
"She kept saying how her son belonged to her womb."
"How her womb yearned for him, how her womb sang songs of him."
"It was like she never wanted him to leave her, to never be born..."
He had pushed those thoughts down, trying his hardest to dismiss them as paranoia, superstition. But seeing his undead mother face-to-face forced him to acknowledge more than any mortal should. And... the more he acknowledged the truth, the more he was forced to realize what she meant by...
"The world... so cruel to you..." Mother continued, pulling Lane's hand to her lower belly, forcing him to rub it, "But... inside Mommy... is safe... Mommy will... never let you out... again..."
Lane, frightened, took a step back, his mind trying desperately to deny it, trying his hardest to convince himself that she didn't mean what Lane feared she meant.
"Look... my precious son... look at how much... my womb... misses you..." Letting go of his hand, Mother turned around and stuck out her hips towards him.
"Ah!" Lane let out a small squeak when he saw his mother's massive, gorgeous ass fill his vision, each cheek dwarfing his head in size. But what caught his gaze more than the luscious butt was what was between her legs. He saw it, the lips of her pussy. The fleshy lips had a pale color, and they pulsated with need, radiating so much heat that he could feel it. Mother moved her hand to spread her lips open, revealing the opening to him. And... Lane saw it. He didn't understand how he saw it, but he did. Deep inside his mother's canal, an opening. The entrance to her womb. And he could literally feel its need... its yearning...
For him.
"Time... to come home... my son..."
Lane jumped back, filled with panic and terror. He couldn't deny it anymore. No... no no no no no no! He can't! He can't go back inside! He knew... he could tell that if Mother wanted, she'd be able to force him back in, and never let him out. He would be trapped there forever. His freedom forever lost. Never to see the light of day again.
He had to run!
But in a cruel twist of fate, the moment Lane moved to run, he fell. Still tired and dizzy from when he ejaculated, he lost balance and fell to the floor. He was met with the cold wooden floorboard, and the broken remains of his hope of running away.
"No..." He looked up in horror, and saw his mother standing right above him with her back turned to him, spreading the lips of her pussy.
"Don't run... my dear son... you know... this is where... you belong..." He heard Mother's voice, filled with obsessive love.
She began to bend down, lowering her hips towards Lane's head. He saw the glistening lips of Mother's pussy spreading wider, ready to claim him forever.
Move, move, move! Why can't he move!? Lane was paralyzed with fear, his body locking down. As if drawn to it, he couldn't look away, couldn't run, couldn't fight.
He felt a wetness on his face, starting with his nose, and spreading to the rest of his face. Mother's pussy pressed against his face, firmer and harder by the second. Mother lowered her body, letting her full weight rest on her son's head. For a second, it seemed like he wouldn't fit, but that spark of hope was extinguished immediately when the pussy lips began to open unnaturally wide. They engulfed Lane's entire face, eventually spreading and swallowing half of his head, and then the rest of it.
Lane saw black. He felt a wet tightness swallow his skull like a vice. He couldn't speak, his cheeks and lips squeezed by the inner fleshy walls. It was happening. She was really swallowing him whole through her pussy! That realization awakened Lane's survival instincts, but it was far too late. The boy feebly pushed his hands against his mom's thighs, but his strength was far too low to earn him even a single inch of reprieve. He tried to scream, but his voice was muffled by the fleshy walls pressed around his head.
"Aaah... that's it... my baby boy... come back... inside me..." Mother moaned out in pleasure, flexing her vaginal muscles, swallowing her son's body, inch by inch. She spread her legs and slowly squatted down, hands placed on her knees. Her pussy lips reached the base of Lane's neck, stopping at his slender shoulders. Mother, moaning loudly, flexed her inner muscles tightly, and her pussy responded by stretching even wider, wide enough to take Lane's shoulders inside. Lane arms flailed helplessly, hitting and smacking the woman's legs fruitlessly. Mother moaned again, straining her muscles even harder, swallowing several more inches of her son. Lane's head, shoulders, and upper arms became engulfed.
The hapless victim fought back harder and harder, but nothing helped. His upper body was trapped in a wet vice, soaked by his mother's lubricating fluids. The intense heat was dizzying, and the fleshy walls squeezed him so hard that he couldn't move an inch.
Mother lowered her body, slowly but surely taking her beloved son inside her. Soon, Lane's forearms were engulfed, leaving only his hands and lower body visible. And soon, his hands were taken as well, making escape even more impossible.
"Ahhh.... my son.... is coming back... inside Mommy... Mommy's .... so happy!" Mother kept moaning louder and louder, filled with deranged excitement, knowing her dear little boy was returning home. She flexed and strained harder and faster, eagerly wanting to feel him in her womb. With one strong flex, her pussy swallowed up what remained of Lane's waist, leaving only his shapely hips, butt and legs. Mother grinned, straightening her legs to stand back up, but still bending over. Lane's legs flailed and kicked aimlessly in the air, unable to escape their fate. Mother kindly assisted by moving her hand to tuck Lane's hard penis up inside her vagina, before slowly engulfing it as well. With another strain, Mother moaned and swallowed up Lane's butt, too, leaving only his legs visible.
Lane felt his head flooded with liquid. What was once an extreme tightness that squeezed him so hard he couldn't speak, had suddenly become loose. He was inside his mother's womb. As his upper body entered the womb, warm fluid flooded his eyes, nose, and mouth, pouring down his throat and filling his lungs. But he didn't choke or gag. It was like his need for air suddenly vanished. His body pressed against the flesh of the womb's inner walls. It was warm, so very warm. His mind became addled and hazy. Became harder to think. It felt so warm... so warm... so warm...
"That's it... my baby... Mommy... loves you... feel so good... in Mommy's womb..." The demonic woman purred in delight, seeing and feeling her belly become distended. An increasingly large bump appeared on her belly as her womb became filled once more. Already looking pregnant with triplets, and soon to become even larger. She playfully squeezed Lane's legs in and out of her pussy, enjoying the sensation of her little boy rubbing against her inner walls. She did it several more times, her pussy swallowing Lane down past his knees, before relaxing and letting his legs free again, only to suck them back inside. But after the slight bit of play, Mother was ready to become full once again.
With one last moan, Mother made one final, major flex of her core... and swallowed Lane entirely. From his head down to his toes, Lane was completely and entirely inside his mother's body.
Never to be seen outside of it again.
Lane's entire body became engulfed in hot liquid, as if being dunked in an ocean. He could barely see anything other than a dim light. His muscles relaxed on their own, making it hard to move anything. Suddenly, the walls of the womb became tighter, giving him less and less room to move. His body was forced to curl inward. Curling until he was in a fetal position, the ideal form of a son.
Lane felt warm, so very warm. His mind became trapped in an endless haze, making it hard to even form thoughts. It felt so... nice. The fear that had once gripped him faded away, leaving nothing but the comforting warmth. Not just the sensations, but also the desire, the feeling, the emotion. He felt his mother's desires all around him. And he felt nothing but her overwhelming love. She loved him. She loved him more than anything. She wanted to protect him. Keep him in a place where nothing could harm him. It was warm, cozy...
Safe...
His body relaxed as he curled up. What... what was he afraid of? He couldn't... remember. Mother... wasn't trying to hurt him. She just wanted to love him, like any mother would. He always, always wanted to experience a mother's love. He never imagined it could feel this strong, this wonderful. It was everything he ever wanted. Nothing compared to the feeling of being embraced by the woman who brought him life. It felt so nice... so nice. All he wanted was to feel mother's love, forever.
"Welcome... home... my treasure..."
Mother purred as she stroked her full belly, which now extended greatly outward. Standing straight up, she rapturously ran her hands over her stomach, her expression filled with pure, absolute joy. A pure, overwhelming happiness that only a mom could experience.
Lane moaned, somehow feeling mother's hands on his body. Her loving touch made all of his worldly troubles go away. All those years of torment and abuse. The harsh words and beatings of his father, the hateful glances of the villagers, the bullying from his peers, the constant mockery of his appearance, the seemingly endless years of loneliness and never feeling like he belonged, the constant yearning for a mother's love he never got to experience. All those feelings and worries were washed away, never to torment him again.
All that was left, was his mother's love.
Lane felt something bury in his navel. He understood what it was. An umbilical cord. He was about to be permanently connected with his mother. The woman who loved him more than anything. He let out a moan, feeling the cord bury deeply in his body, connecting his life with hers, connecting her blood vessels with his, becoming one with each other.
He could feel his body changing, erasing any trace of humanity, erasing any trace that resembled his father, or the world he left behind. It was too dark to see, but he could feel it. His skin changed color, a similar ethereal white to match his mother. His golden eyes gained the same glow as hers, becoming an eternal undead. His hips widened, his butt grew much larger, and his legs became curvier. The only real differences between Lane and his mother were his short height, white hair and genitals, which had also gained a large increase in size. He had truly become his mother's son.
Lane relaxed completely, having been freed at last. By giving up everything to his mother, he experienced true liberation. He closed his glowing gold eyes, and felt ease, for perhaps the first time in his now eternal life.
"Mommy... loves you..." Mother sighed happily, feeling herself become connected with her son. Their feelings and thoughts were linked. She felt what he felt, thought what he thought, and she knew that he loved her back. It was the epitome of a bond between mother and son. She continued to rub her taut belly, something she would never get tired of doing. She now had her treasure back, and would never let go of him ever again.
"Let us... leave... this place... my dear... this world... means nothing.... to us... anymore..." She said while still massaging her belly. Leaving her dress behind, the tall, naked, gorgeous, and very happy mother began to walk away. Her ethereal body moved through the walls, unimpeded. But left in her wake was white flame. Flame that spread through the village, incinerating everyone and everything. Where she was going was unknown. But none of it mattered. Her son was with her again, and they would always be together.
...
...
...
...
...
...
The empty village, which had been mysteriously burned to the ground, would eventually be discovered by the outside world. Questions, worries, and fears were inevitably raised over the mysterious events that transpired. A village, once populated and full of life, massacred overnight, with the roads and buildings reduced to ash, along with the burned corpses and charred bones of its people. Why were they killed? Who was it that killed them? Questions that would never get a satisfying answer. All that could be found of the killer was the large white dress left behind, somehow unscathed by the flames. Nobody would ever learn the complete truth of what happened. That the village was destroyed by its own hubris and cruelty for committing the grave sin of trying to separate a mother from her own son. A just punishment swiftly delivered to every one of them, never to hurt anyone else ever again.
In the years that followed, rumors spread across the country. Hushed rumors and words from those swearing they had seen a ghost. The locations were varied: forests, fields, lakes, rarely traveled roads, hills, and so on. Though the rumors were often dismissed, those who witnessed it always gave similar descriptions. Sightings of a tall, beautiful, naked, pale-skinned woman with long black hair, excessively large breasts, a bountiful butt, and a massive, distended, taut, pregnant belly heavy with child. Some individuals saw her walking with grace and poise. Others described her sitting down while watching the scenery. Others found her lying down on the grass. But one thing that was consistent in every sighting, was that she would always, always be stroking her pregnant belly. Always rubbing and massaging it with love and reverence. There was no doubt in anybody's mind that she carried a child, and that her child was her most precious treasure. Due to how large her belly was, many speculated how many children she carried. Estimates ranged from three to as many as a dozen. Others guessed that perhaps it was just one adult living inside her womb, though these were always dismissed with mockery.
These sightings never failed to shock those who saw encountered them. Most were frightened by the unnerving sight of such a massive woman with golden, glowing eyes. Others were entranced by her beauty. Others showed even admiration, seeing the love she showed to her unborn child, seeing the true love of a mother. But every time, without fail, whenever the person blinked or looked away for an even a moment, she would disappear. Like she was never there at all.
Some people treated these sightings as a grim omen, fearful of the sinister glow of her golden eyes. Others treated it as a blessing of maternity, a sign of healthy birth for the mothers-to-be that lived nearby. Unfortunately, the latter interpretation did not last very long, due to strange events that occurred in the places the phantom visited. Cases of pregnant women suddenly suffering bouts of deranged mania, cradling their bellies while insisting that their precious child never leave their wombs forever.
But none of that mattered to the mother and son, living their eternal lives connected to each other, body and soul. The mother's life was perfect, experiencing endless happiness from knowing that her child, her treasure, her reason for existing, was safe and secure in her womb, never to leave her again. She roamed the world, traveling between realities and dimensions, taking her dear son to many places, sharing and nurturing their bond. She lovingly stroked her belly every hour of every day, letting her son know that he was loved, and never alone. She adored the feeling of her heavy belly, feeling its weight, feeling her son precisely where he belonged.
And the son lived every day inside his mom's womb, experiencing never ending warmth, comfort, and safety. He desired nothing else. Simply remaining curled up in his mother's womb was all he needed. Feeling his mother's nutrients feed his body, feeling her love for him course through his being, feeling her tender loving hands stroke his body. As her son, it was everything he needed.
"Mommy... I... love... you..."