The Wisp
Will you see a beautiful woman or a darker presence?
SUPERNATURAL | EROTIC | HORROR
Inspired by English folklore. All is explained in the note at the end of the story.
The night was still, the marshes quiet and the crescent moon gave little light to see the path. His village lay less than a mile ahead. The hearth of his cottage would be cold, the room dark, he had no wife to welcome him home.
Wary of sinking into the mire he tested the ground of the rough path with each step and cursed that he had no lantern. When he looked up he saw a distant light. It hovered in the grey mist that swirled around the marshes. The yellow glow seemed to beckon him forward. He moved cautiously toward it. Was it a lantern held by a welcoming stranger or were there thieves and cutthroats intent on robbing him ahead?
He stopped. The light seemed to have formed the shape of a woman. He looked for the lantern she was holding but could see none. It was if the light itself was emanating from within her making her glow with a ghostly presence.
He swung around, looking over his shoulder, every instinct telling him to run. But running across the marsh would mean almost certain death if he slipped into one of the quagmires.
“If you are a good man you need not be afraid,” a voice said.
He turned toward her, he would face his fate head on. “Who of us are completely good?” he said.
She was beautiful, elfin features and long blonde hair that flowed around her shoulders as if stirred by a gentle breeze although the night was still and misty and there was none. She wore a long dark cloak.
“What sort of spectre are you?” he asked.
“I go by many names,” she smiled and the light grew brighter. “And I am real. I can lead you out of this place, into the temptation you desire or to your death,” she paused. “It depends on what kind of man you are.”
The cloak parted to reveal her naked skin beneath it.
“You are beautiful,” he stepped back, “but I am sure you are not of this realm.”
“I am one of God’s creatures, just as you are.” She held out her arms so that the cloak hung from them displaying herself to him. “Are you not tempted?” she asked.
“I am a man, of course I am tempted,” he said as he looked at the round swellings of her breasts and the curves of her body below them. Her thighs were broad and her stomach swelled out a little. He had never seen a member of the nobility naked, but this was how he imagined they looked, plump and better fed than the scrawny half-starved village girls.
“Then feed me.” She stepped closer to him. “Take what you desire, give me a little of your essence and I will lead you out of this place.” Her hand slipped into his breeches and her fingers wrapped around the shaft of his hardening weapon.
“Feed you?” he said as she pushed him to the ground.
“Do not worry, I will only take what I need and you will be glad to give it,” she sat astride him. “When we are done,” she slid down onto his shaft, “you will still live and I will set you free.” She began to buck. He felt his seed rising as he ploughed into her. His emission exploded and then the mist seemed to part and he could see stars sparkling in the night sky above him.
When he came around the woman had vanished. He staggered to his feet and pulled his breeches up.
“Follow the light,” a voice in the distance said.
He stumbled down the path towards the distant orb that floated in front of him until he came to the edge of the marsh. In the distance he could see the dim lights of the village. “Thank you,” he said but the light had disappeared into the empty darkness.
Four Hundred Years Later
“Fucking car.” He turned and kicked the bumper causing another hiss of steam to come from the engine and add itself to the mist coming off the marshes. He looked down the road; it was a five mile hike if he followed it around the edge of the marsh to the nearest village. He turned to look across the bog. There was a faint trail leading between soft, watery pits. It was less than a mile across there but he had not walked it since he was a teenager up for stupid dares.
He peered into the gloom. There was a light in the mist. Someone was out there. That settled it, they could help him. He was buggered if he was going to take the long way around. The path squelched beneath his expensive Italian shoes as he walked.
The light got brighter until he could make out the dark shape of a cloaked figure. He stopped. The light seemed to be coming from the face of a woman.
“What you doing out here, darlin’” he said. “Bit early for Halloween pranks isn’t it?”
The light dimmed as she drew back the hood of her cloak. She was stunning, long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders.
Her head tipped to one side as if she was examining him. “If you are a good man you have nothing to fear from me.”
“Fear,” he scoffed. “It would take someone a lot bigger than you to frighten me.”
“I can lead you out of this place, into the temptation you desire or to your death,” she said.
“Ha,” he grunted. “I’m not lost, so I don’t need your help.” He glanced around. The marsh suddenly looked unfamiliar. No worry, he would find his way out but first he would have some fun and teach her a lesson. He looked back at the girl. “And I take what I want so threatening me isn’t going to do you any good.”
He stepped closer and his hands grasped at her cloak pulling the wings apart. “Fuck me,” he gasped as he looked at the slim naked body in front of him. Long slender legs, slim hips and inviting round breasts topped by rose coloured nipples. He grabbed at one of the mounds, his fingers indenting the soft flesh.
The girl scowled, her face changed as if she was donning a mask. She pushed against him and suddenly he was on his back. Something was ripping at his jacket and designer jeans. A hand that felt more like a claw wrapped around his cock. He tried to struggle free but his strength was fading and then something bit into his neck, tearing at the flesh, ripping him apart.
The Next Day
Police constable MacDonald stood by the abandoned car. “Well Sarge, if he’s gone in there we may never find him.”
“I’m not risking good officers looking for the likes of him,” the sergeant said. “We’ll do a quick aerial search. If the helicopter’s heat seeking cameras don’t pick up a body we’ll just write it off as a missing person.”
His radio crackled. He listened for a moment and then turned to MacDonald. “They didn’t find anything. Get that vehicle towed. He’s either sunk into the mire or done a runner.” He turned an walked back to his car.
If you have read There’s Monsters Out There, Satanic Vigilante or any of my Supernatural Collection you will know I am quite fond of vengeful supernatural characters who often manifest themselves as beautiful women.
suggested I explore English folklore for more inspiration.
A Will-o’-the-wisp, known in some parts of England as Jenny-with-the-lantern, is a phantom light that hovers in the wilderness, luring travelers away from the beaten path. Most of these lights haunt the moors and bogs of England, but they have been reported all over the world, under various names.
Some sources say that the spectre will lead the lost traveller to safety or to their death depending on how they treat it.
The Supernatural and the Erotic Collection
Welcome to the latest updated edition of The Supernatural Collection. This post lists all my dark erotic stories that feature horny demons and succubae that will suck you dry. Scroll down for the list that tells you whether they are free or only available to paid subscribers and helps you discover ones you might have missed or would like to re-read.
Really enjoyed how you spun this legend - great portrayal of two diverse attitudes, definitely the less current male was more in tune with folklore and respectful behaviour - that saved his life
Simone--excellent fusion of traditional folk horror/folklore with your trademark dark erotica. One thing I like about your Vengeful Vampiric Vixens (sorry, I've got this thing for alliteration) and related supernatural nasties is that there's always some catch to the "happy ending." And there's always a very bad day for any rapist on the prowl, which is as it should be. That bit adds to the prickly question which has always complicated the "Problem of Evil," to wit, is the Devil (and by extension, all demons and other lower supernatural beings, whom, in traditional theology--totally biased and myopic of course--are viewed as evil in some way) an adversary of God, or an Employee? The being here tells the early modern rustic wanderer in part one that she's a creature of God, and his conduct will determine his fate. The scumbag wearing designer jeans and Italian shoes (he deserves his fate for his terrible sartorial habits alone, let alone his terrible nature!) really doesn't care--and really lacks the brain power to perceive that something's out of place--very much a Rod Serling/"Tales From the Darkside" scenario with him. Yes, I know I overthink and over-analyze, but I'm a throwback to Romanticism who'd be totally open to his being the victim of some supernatural misadventure; I recognize the possibility, and those who do I think have an edge on this sterile, techno-monstrosity of a nightmare world and those who see every answer to every problem in a pill, a circuit, algorithm, machine, or more efficient weapons system. Writers are into that sort of thing. Good job! As always.