Mr. Bogeyman Comes Back

[miles]

In the darkness of his haunted realm, the Lord of Midnight stirred on his throne - a mosaic of twisted and tormented stuffed animals, pilfered from the rooms of his different victims and kept as trophies, all piled together with black veins snaking through them and keeping the garish mass in a shape that supported his form. There were creeping things in the dark caverns around him, hundreds of hushed whispers and skittering claws reverberating against the walls before he let out a low growl to silence them. Then he waited and listened for what had awoken him, breathing in deep to absorb the alarming aroma in the air.

Blood.

...dripping...

untainted...ripe​

...virginal.​

There were only a chosen few from the sunshine world above that he'd selected to mark. Nightmares were a delicacy and fear was his soul's desire and the sun-touched youth were the easiest and most delicious targets. Eventually they grew out of their fears, no longer seduced by his haunted shadows or tantalized by his power and threatening promises. There were a couple who had been marked for special attention and they were the ones he always came back for when the time was right. And tonight... he sensed one of them had breached that threshold.

Smirking hungrily and his obsidian eyes twinkling in lustful luminescence, the Boogeyman climbed down from his throne - like an oil-slide, his shadowed cloak moved him effortlessly down the inanimate mountain of beloved, fuzzy creatures - and quickly moved through the dimensions of his realm, hunting for the appropriate doorway. As he drew nearer to the surface and he could feel the sky above, he called forth a rainstorm to converge upon the place where he could feel the pulse of his target emanating from. As the clouds overhead quickly grew in strength, sweeping like waves crashing on a beach, his muscles tingled with renewed power and he quickened his step, all manner of slick and hideous lifeforms parting out of his way.

Getting closer now, the smell that drew him on soon became a sound as well, that of her heart beating, and his vision began to fill with a red cast. Making it to her location, he first tried the easiest place to get a vantage point from: under the bed. With only his head and shoulders poking above the level of the bedroom floor - the rest of him still consumed within the darkness of his realm - he let his eyes wander over what they could see of her room while keeping himself hidden.

 

[LadyGrace91]

Thirteen year old Mara sighed as she walked upstairs. Having a period really did suck. Honestly. Her mom was all happy because now she was a woman but Mara didn't feel like a woman at all. She felt like a dying animal with blood pouring from between her legs. The cramps had finally died down and now she was just tired. Mara was a pretty girl with budding breasts, barely any pubic hair above her sex and had pale skin, bright blue eyes and long blonde hair. She didn't like cutting her hair so as a result, the hair fell down her back all the way to her waist. Right now, that hair was braided tightly.

Entering her bedroom, she shut the door, humming softly as she padded over to her dresser and grabbed some pajamas and a fresh pair of panties. She took the ones she had on off, as well as her jeans and then reached over to grab a new pad. It felt like she was wearing a diaper. After putting the pad in the new panties, she slid them on then walked in her undies and t-shirt to the bathroom to do her normal bathroom routine. Once her hair was brushed out, and her teeth brushed, she put on her pajama shorts and then laid down on the bed without the covers, on her belly. She was completely unaware of the fact that there was something or someone in her room.

With a sigh, Mara turned onto her back, closed her eyes, hugging her pillow close as she fell asleep. Her young frame relaxing into the bed, innocent and unaware.

 

[miles]

Mara. He remembered the blonde girl like it was yesterday. Just a couple years ago he'd make nightly visits to her room, he and his minions lurking in the darkened corners of her room and terrorizing her with their hinted presence. If not while she was awake, then in her nightmares while asleep. There would be no sleeping for this preteen tonight and he licked his lips in delicious anticipation of making her nightmares a reality.

From his vantage point under the bed, the Lord of the Dark watched her putter around her room, eying her slender legs as she undressed, causing his own blood to rush with searing heat through his veins. When the light was off, every inch of the room was still visible to him and he ducked his head below her floor moving through the shadow realm and positioning himself at a better entrance: the closet. The storm clouds that had gathered were roiling above in the sky and extending his powers of manipulation, he broke them open to pour forth a torrent of liquid tears. Calling forth brusk winds that howled outside her window, every sound was muffled by the sound of the rain pummeling the house from the outside. Using even more of his energy, heavily depleting his stores, lightning cracked in the sky above with thunder rumbling dangerously close through the foundations of the house. And with a gentle push from his mind, the door to the girl's room locked shut making it completely useless from the inside.

Emerging from the depths of her closet and stepping lightly among her clothes and toys, the Boogeyman opened the closet door with a heavy click and slowly pushed it inward. Above the rain, above the howling wind, and above the occasional roars of thunder, the door hinges squealed loudly, piercing the air like a long, drawn out scream. Standing within the open maw, hidden still within the shadows, he surveyed the results of his work; the dark, grey lighting coming from the window, the tree in the yard shaking furiously in the wind and casting moving shadows into the room; all of her belongings sitting quietly in the darkness, their shapes and details unrecognizable from the way they looked in light, almost like huddled creatures lurking in waiting. But there were no other creatures here tonight, no one but the Lord of Midnight himself, left alone to claim his victim's womanhood.

Stepping smoothly from the closet, his shadow cloak open and baring his pale, slender and muscular body, he smirked hungrily at the girl on the bed. Without a moment's hesitation and another burst of energy, he suddenly appeared at her bedside, his black stained hands holding her down and covering her mouth, while his upper body hovered over her tiny, fragile form. Black eyes flashed at her wickedly as he kept his face close to hers, shoving the pillow from between her arms to land uselessly on the floor.

"Hello, Mara," he said in his deep, raspy voice, amusement flashing in his fang-filled smile. "I hear something special and exciting has happened to you recently and I am here to help you celebrate properly." Leaning close, so his stubbled cheek brushed against hers, smelling the sweet mixture of her smells - her youth, her girlish, cotton-candy scents and stronger than ever, the blood of her menstruation - no doubt letting her get a whiff of his own heady, manly aroma. Whispering, deceitfully gentle he said, "You're not dreaming."