Beware the Crossroads (Halloween Repost #3)

Be Wary of the Crossroads on Samhain

By AC Elliott

I will never forget the night that opened my eyes to some of the most wonderful, and terrifying, things I could ever imagine possible. After all, it was the night that changed my life forever…

It was 1865, and I had just returned home from the war. I had spent the larger part of the last four years serving in the cavalry for the Confederate Army. Somehow, I had managed to work my way through most of the cavalry divisions, before finally ending up as a part of the famed Walker’s Greyhounds. In March of that year, I was in Hempstead, TX, waiting with my fellow soldiers for Jefferson Davis to arrive. It was supposed to be the “Last Stand of the Confederacy”, but, it never came to pass. So, that is where I was when the war ended, and I finally mustered out in May. Almost six months and many miles later, I finally found my way back home to North Carolina.

It was a cool, crisp evening when I arrived home. I could see the oil lamps burning in the window, and my grandmother was already setting the table. I will never forget the look of happiness and shock when I walked through the door. My boots were worn and dusty, my pack was slung over my shoulder, and I thought I would never be able to get my grandmother to let me go.

That night, I sat around the table with a family I hadn’t seen in almost four years; a lot had changed while I was away. Already nineteen, my little brother wasn’t so little anymore. My grandfather looked worn in the face, and even older than he did when I last saw him. The only one that was still the same was my grandmother. She was a bundle of energy, if I ever saw it.

When she set the table for supper, I couldn’t help but notice that she had set an extra plate at the head of the table. I shook my head and just smiled. Nope, she hadn’t changed, she was just as superstitious as ever.

“Don’t shake your head and smile at me, young man.” She said in her thick Irish brogue. “Samhain is here; it’s time to pay homage to the dead. Now, don’t go making them upset, you hear?”

“Yes, grandmama,” I said, smiling behind my coffee cup at my younger brother. “I wouldn’t think of it.”

“You would have your parent’s rolling over in their graves,” she continued. “Don’t think you’re too big for me to take over my knee…”

“Ok, ok,” I replied, throwing my hands up in mock surrender. “I promise not to look at the seat, or upset the spirits.”

That seemed to satisfy her, and we were able to enjoy a nice supper together. I hadn’t realized just how much I had missed her home cooked meals. Nor did I remember getting so full, so quick. Still, the talk was mostly jovial, as they caught me up on the events around the county. Somewhere in the conversation, I managed to ask about MaryAnn…

“She’s fine, boy,” my grandmother assured me. “In fact, she is probably pining away for you at her family’s home. Why don’t you go out and see her when we are done?”

I looked around the table at my small family, at odds with leaving them after just getting home. “Are you sure you won’t mind?”

“Don’t be daft, boy,” my grandfather huffed. “Just get yerself cleaned up first. Otherwise, you might scare her off with yer stench.”


The hot bath felt good against my sore and tired muscles. Honestly, I couldn’t remember the last time I had taken a hot bath, and it almost seemed a novelty at this point. Finally, I found myself cleaned up and my grandmother had laid out a pair of my best clothes for me. Ironically, even though they were four years old, they fitted looser than they did back then. I guess I had lost more weight than I had realized, or perhaps, I had turned it from boyish fat into a manly muscle. Whichever the case was, I was just glad to have clothes that fit and weren’t worn.

“Stay away from the border areas,” my grandmother warned me when I was mounting one of the horses.

“Grandmama,” I sighed. “Those are superstitions. There’s nothing to worry about. Really…”

“Now, you listen here,” she replied with a fire in her eyes and a tone that matched. “You stay away from the border areas. Steer clear of the edge of the forests, lakes and cross-roads. Do you hear me? There’s wickedness in the air tonight, I can feel it. The veil to the Otherworld is thinner on Samhain, and the aes sídhe will up to no good. Mark my words, young man.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I smiled, tipped my hat and then turned the horse around.

As I began riding away, I heard her call out one last time… “Stay away from the border areas!”

I just waved my hand in response.


I was halfway to MaryAnn’s family home when I came upon the crossroads. I brought the horse to a slow trot when I saw it coming up in the distance. In the back of my mind, I could hear my grandmother’s words echoing “Steer clear of the crossroads.” For a second or two, I actually considered heeding her advice. Then, the logical side of me kicked in, and I dismissed it. After all, I was a man now, and one that had been through much worse than a set of crossroads could bring me.

As I approached the crossroads, I found a young woman sitting on a log. Her jet black hair seemed to shine in the twilight, like it was reflecting the moon. She was modestly dressed in a uniform befitting a maid-servant, and it struck me as odd that no one else was around. Not only that, she wasn’t carrying any bags or belongings. Still, that didn’t stop me from approaching her.

“Good evening, miss,” I called out to her.

She looked up at me and smiled. Without even speaking a word, she already had me enthralled by her beauty. She had the most beautiful elfin features, and looked like an innocent, little girl, but, it was her eyes… Her eyes were probably the most beautiful that I had ever seen before.

“Good evening to you, kind sir,” she practically purred. The sound of her voice made the hair on my neck stand up, and I could tell right away that she was definitely older than she originally appeared. “What brings you out tonight?”

“I-I’m headed to my love’s home,” I somehow managed to stammer out, swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat. “Is there anything I can help you with, miss?”

“Why, yes,” she replied, her eyes lighting up playfully. “Can you give me a ride for a ways? I am heading in the same direction you are.”

“How do you know that?” I asked, more than slightly confused.

“Let’s just call it…intuition,” she purred in her little voice, batting her eyes at me. “Just for a ways, is all. You wouldn’t leave a girl stranded, would you?”

Against my better judgement, I conceded. After she stood up, I stuck my hand out and helped her onto the horse behind me. “Hold tight,” I called out, and took the horse up to a quick trot, continuing down the road.

Hold tight she did, too. Sliding her small hands around my waist, she gripped me tightly, pressing her soft breasts against my back. I had to fight back a small moan, when I realized that I could even feel her nipples, prominent, and poking me. I tried to keep my senses about me, but, it was hard to do. Especially, when I felt her slide her hand down my abdomen and cover my crotch.

After a short while, with her fingers tracing my already hardening shaft, I heard her say into my ear, “At the next crossroads, turn right. We’re almost home…”

In retrospect, I should have caught the fact that she had said “we’re almost home”, instead of “I’m almost home”, but, I wasn’t thinking straight at that point. So, when the crossroads came into view, I did as she instructed and turned right. A short distance later, we were at a small cabin that butted up to a tree line.

“We’re here,” she called out, giving my crotch a tight squeeze. I slowed the horse down to a moderate trot, and guided him up to the front door.

“Come inside,” she said, climbing down from the horse and running her soft hand over my arm. It was not a request.

It was like I was outside of myself, watching, as I did as she directed. I didn’t want to do it, but, I still did it…obediently, like a dog that was obeying his mistress.

Tying the horse off to a post, I followed her into cabin, watching her hips sway in an almost impossibly sensuous way. Upon entering, the first thing I noticed was the single oil lamp burning on the table. Its flickering light gave an eerie feel to the otherwise dark cabin. The second thing I noticed were the three people already inside, and when I did, I found myself shocked, speechless.

One of them was a man. He stood about my height, dressed in the fine clothes of someone wealthy. He had a broad-brimmed hat pushed back on his head, and an expensive unlit pipe hanging from his lips. I was quickly taken back by the pointed ears on his head, and what looked like horns, sprouting from beneath the hat. His gaze immediately caught mine, and I felt a wickedness there as he gave me a once over. Then, he smiled, and the wickedness seemed to vanish instantly.

The man, by himself was shocking enough, but, it was the two women with him that shocked me the most. There, on the bed was my MaryAnn, with her skirts pushed up to her thighs. Her legs were spread wide, and it was immediately apparent that she wasn’t wearing her undergarments. In fact, not only was she not wearing any, she was openly masturbating for all to see. This woman, brazenly shoving three fingers into herself, wasn’t the MaryAnn I remembered.

The other woman was MaryAnn’s younger sister, Mabel. The last time I had seen her, she was making moon eyes at me. Now, here she was, twenty years old and on her knees in front of the man. Like her sister, she had her skirt pushed up to her waist. I could see her fingers delving into the hidden space between her legs, while she steadily sucked on the man’s protruding shaft.

I don’t know what was more disturbing to me, seeing my intended steadily fingering herself, seeing her sister giving the unknown rich man oral sex, or the fact that I found the whole scene arousing.

I jumped when the dark haired maid ran her hand up my arm, and leaned in to kiss my neck. “Take off your clothes,” she purred.

Again, it wasn’t a request.

Once more, I felt like an outsider, watching myself completely disrobe and drop my clothes to the floor in a crumpled pile. In what seemed like seconds, I was completely nude, and quite obviously, very aroused. Especially, when the young maid traced her finger deftly along my pulsating shaft. “You like what you see, don’t you?” she half purred, half asked.

I felt myself nodding in response, as my shaft twitched beneath her fingertips. She wrapped her soft fingers around my girth, and silently guided me to the bed that MaryAnn occupied. Obediently, I climbed onto the bed next to MaryAnn and lay back, my now very prominent erection reaching up to the heavens.

In the back of my mind, I could hear a voice screaming that this was all kinds of wrong, but, as much as I would have liked to…I wasn’t able to heed the voice. In fact, that voice quickly disappeared into a muffled silence, when the woman knelt before me and took me into her mouth.

Her long, straight black hair tickled my thighs as she engulfed me. I moaned at the feel of her mouth’s the hot wetness, and her tongue as it danced along my taut flesh. I looked over next to me, and saw my intended looking like a bitch in heat. I could clearly see her fingers steadily pumping into her plump pussy lips, and smell her juices permeating the air. I was almost taken back by the look of pure lust in her eyes, as she watched her sister pleasing the other man.

The woman between my legs worked me like a pro. She knew exactly what she was doing and exactly what she wanted. Her soft hand cupped my balls, and pulled my ball sack down as she took me all the way in. I was in heavenly bliss as she steadily coaxed every ounce of pleasure from me.

When her finger slipped into me, penetrating my sphincter ring, I lost all control. I could feel her massaging my prostrate and sucking hard, and I bucked my hips upward, shoving my shaft deep into her throat. I couldn’t take it any more, and with loud yell, I let loose a torrent of seed down her throat.

She swallowed every drop, like she was savoring her favorite morsel. When I thought I was through, she somehow managed to coax even more, until I was drained completely dry. I thrashed my head side to side as her tongue worked over my sensitive tip, sending sparks of electricity up my spine. I don’t know how, but, she managed to keep me hard, even after such an intense orgasm.

Without skipping a beat, she stood up and shed her clothes. For the first time, I was allowed to feast on her naked flesh. She was even more beautiful than I could have possibly imagined. Her skin was an almost angelic shade of white, not really pale, but, almost glowing white. I looked her over from head to upper thighs. With her elfin features, slim body and small breasts…she looked even more like a little girl than she actually was.

I no more than blinked, and she had mounted me, taking me into her velvet embrace.

I watched in disbelief when she leaned over and kissed MaryAnn, her tongue sensually snaking into the other woman’s mouth. From that point on, all the rest was a blur of sensual, sexual frenzy. I was taken to heights of pleasure that I was convinced no man had ever been taken. I lost count of how many times I had orgasmed that night. I think at some point, I might have even been with both MaryAnn and Mabel. But, I am not certain.

What I was certain of, though, was that I was being drained. I looked up at the raven-haired beauty, as she rode me one last time. Her pussy muscles were squeezing my now raw and sore shaft. In a way I wanted it all to end, but, she was gorgeous and I was completely under her spell.

The next thing I knew, there was blood everywhere. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, I was able to register that it wasn’t my blood. Yet, somehow, that didn’t make me feel any better. Not when there was a sticky mess of blood covering me, and the tangy taste of iron filling my mouth.

As the woman coaxed the last bit of my seed from my body, I looked over and saw MaryAnn’s eyes. They were open and lifeless, and her sister’s lifeless body was slumped over hers. In the background, I heard the man laugh and then begin whistling. It was an eerie tune, and one that I felt I should recognize.

At that moment, I felt my soul slipping away. My pulse was getting weaker, and my breath was coming in uneven, labored breaths. I was dying, and I knew it. Just as I was taking my last breaths, I heard a loud noise filling the cabin, followed by my grandfather’s voice, “Fucking fae bitch!”

I watched the world turn red, as a gunshot rang out and woman’s head exploded above me.

That’s when I blacked out…


I woke up to a bright light, and the face of an angel looking down on me. The woman smiled, her long red hair pushed back over her ears. I recognized her. She was my mother, and I was safely in her arms. I blinked, unable to speak. After all, a woman that I believed long dead was there, holding me close.

I could hear my grandmother in the background: “Deacon Slade Ó Ceallaigh, I told you to stay away from the crossroads. But, you fool, you just wouldn’t listen, would you?”

“Be quiet, Abigail,” I heard my mother respond kindly in her musical voice. “I am taking him with me, into the mounds, where he will be nursed back to health.”

Then, I blacked out again…

That was over 150 years ago. Over the intervening years, I have come to terms with the fact that my mother is one of the aes sídhe, and that, although a half-breed, I am too. I haven’t been idle either. I’ve searched high and low for William Ó Murchadha, the Gancanagh that killed my MaryAnn and her sister. The only consolation that I have, is knowing that my grandfather had taken the life of the raven-haired fae, just before she drained the last of my life.

I can feel it in my bones: Samhain is once more drawing near, the veil between the worlds is growing thin, and I have a score to settle.

Word Count: 2989 words (not counting the title)


The Planted Seed

The time has drawn near
For Samhian is here
At the fading of the light
Spirits are freed into the night
She is drawn by their power
Knowing it’s the witching hour

Her soft voice
Her soft voice

Her soft voice casts a spell
Reaching into the bowels of Hell
He hears her voice calling
Captivating and enthralling
Summoning the spirit of an evil man
It’s a conjugal visit of the damned

He is free
He is free

He is free, finding a lone stranger
Placing that man’s life in danger
Slipping into him without a sound
Possessing him, the two are bound
His body is the spirits to use
Let the fun and games ensue

He finds her
He finds her

He finds her there waiting
Legs splayed, masturbating
Ready for a night of unbridled sin
Feeling him enter deep within
Fulfilling her every little need
By giving her his evil seed

Passionate heat
Passionate heat

Passionate heat in his veins
His need for her almost insane
Ignoring the fleeting time of the clock
He feels her wrap his borrowed cock
Gripping him in her velvet glove
Making hard and passionate love

Thrusting deep
Thrusting deep

Thrusting deep, pounding inside
His need for release he cannot hide
Seeing her eyes filled with lust
He gives one final deep thrust
Buried within, he sates her thirst
Flowing into her with long bursts

Without a word
Without a word

Without a word ever being said
The body possessed is now dead
The seed’s planted as she planned
On this conjugal visit of the damned
To the spirit her heart is sworn
Satisfied that his evil will be reborn

©AC Elliott, 2014

Repost of old Halloween Writing Events #2.

Samhain Comes

I had a good friend mention to me yesterday that they missed my semi-regular Halloween writing event that I have hosted a couple different times now. Truth be told, I missed hosting it as well. It allowed me to find other bloggers/writers and share their work with people that otherwise may not have been familiar with them. At the same time, Halloween has always been a favorite time of the year for me. Unfortunately, Halloween kind of snuck up on me this year and since I was just getting back into the groove of writing, I didn’t feel I was able to host any events this year. Maybe next year though!  That being said, today (starting with the below poem), I will repost three of my older pieces from those events.  I hope you enjoy…


“Samhain Comes”

Samhain comes, tick-tock,
the seconds are counting down
on the face of the clock.

The gateway will open wide
freeing spirits that are waiting
forever trapped inside.

Feel the cold winds blow
when they are set free to dance
their great and horrible show.

Tick-tock, the time draws near
So, shut tight your windows
and bar your doors in fear.

For the spirits you have wronged
are coming to haunt you
and they have waited far too long.

Time passes, tick-tock,
hear it being counted out
on the ticks of the clock.

© AC Elliott, 2016

Give Your All to Me

With your soft flesh pressed
hard against me
let me get lost in the curves
the creamy deliciousness
that is you.
Hands clenching, teeth biting,
guttural moans escaping
my throat
at the feel of your silken embrace
engulfing me, accepting me,
taking me deep inside.
Claw me, bite me, grasp me
shudder beneath me
as your walls clasp and screams
leave your throat.
Give your all to me
and I will give my all to you.
© AC Elliott, 30-Oct-17

Written using the Free Verse poetry form.

Like a Firefly

Trapped, held inside
Bottled up like a firefly
Just another treasure
Displayed for all to see

A small little trinket
Some unknown curiosity

Trapped, held inside
Bottled up like a firefly
Just waiting for the lid
To be screwed down tight

A little bauble, owned
Put on a shelf, treasured

Trapped, held inside
Bottled up like a firefly
Watch with curiosity
As her light grows dim

A small oddity, rare
To be displayed, revered

Trapped, held inside
Bottled up like a firefly
Waiting, always hoping
Knowing someone will come

A small treasure, unique
Her heart pure and rare

Trapped, held inside
Bottled up like a firefly
Willing to wait forever
To be freed by his touch
©AC Elliott, 2014

A Montana Hot Tub

“Now this is what I’m talking about,” she said, straddling my waist in the hot tub and guiding me into her even hotter embrace.

The snow was falling steadily around us, peppering our faces and hair as she took me all the way inside of her. It was a surreal experience, and one that I would never forget either…

This was Montana, in early January of 2000, and I was recently divorced from my first wife only a few months before. I only remember when it was because I had just gotten off of standby for the whole Y2K “The world is going to end” panic. There is nothing like sitting in your home sober and bored, with nothing to do but watch the ball drop in every country, while everyone else was out partying and cranking Prince “Party Like It’s 1999”. The only plus side that New Years was being able to go outside at midnight with my oldest son, who was 6 at the time, and feel the snow fall on our faces as we shouted “Happy New Year”!

But, I digress…

It’s funny, when people hear that you’re a single dad, recently divorced, and have full custody of your child… all of a sudden they think you can’t do anything for yourself. Seriously! I had so many wives of friends calling to see if they could make us supper, etc. At first it was amusing, because I had been cooking since I was slightly older than my son was at the time. After a while though, it got to be rather annoying. I know that they all meant well, but I took care of everything when I was married, so this was nothing new.

At any rate, it was a Friday night and I had just gotten back from dropping my son off at his mom’s house for the weekend. I had just settled in to my recliner with a good book and a glass of whiskey, when my phone rang. Initially, I wasn’t going to answer the phone, since I didn’t recognize the number. However, noting that it was at least a local number, I decided to go ahead and answer it.

“Hello,” I said, picking up the phone and identifying myself.

“Hey, it’s Julie,” came the soft feminine voice on the other side of the line.

Julie? Julie. Julie!

Yeah, that’s exactly how my mind went that night. At first I had no idea who the hell Julie was, then the name struck a bell, and finally recognition struck. It was Julie. She was a friend of one of those wives mentioned above. I had met her several times at various parties, and we hit it off pretty good. It was just odd that she would be calling me. Hell, I didn’t even know she had my number!

We made a little small talk, which frankly is something that I do NOT do very well. All the while, I am wondering as to “why” she was calling me in the first place. It wasn’t like she and I were what you would call “friends” or anything. We were just friendly. Acquaintances. So, me being me, I finally cut to the chase.

“So, what’s up?” I finally asked her. “Why the call out of the blue?”

“Well, I was talking with (insert friend’s name here), and she was telling me that you could probably use a good, home cooked meal, so I thought…” she continued on.

Yep, there it was, one of those wives that were trying to take care of the poor single father had called their friend and suggested she have me over for supper. I had never been anyone’s charity case, and I wasn’t about to be one then either. So, I politely declined, telling her as nicely as possible “that I was perfectly capable of cooking a home cooked meal on my own and I appreciate the offer. That our friend had good intentions, but, it was really wearing thin on me. I hope you understand.”

“Oh,” she said, and I could hear the laughter in her voice. “I know you can cook! I’ve had your food at that party we went to a couple weeks back. I just wanted an excuse to get you over to my house and she told me you were free tonight.” (Gotta love small neighborhoods on a military base, don’t you? I swear my friend just sat at the window and watched for my comings/goings.)

“Well, why didn’t you just lead with that?” I replied, and agreed to head over to her place downtown for supper.


One thing led to another and there we were, in a hot tub at her house with snow falling all around us. She was a small thing, not even five foot tall and I swear she didn’t weigh more than 100 lbs soaking wet. Her long brown hair was pulled into a single braid that fell to the small of her back. It was a joy to pull on, exposing her neck while she straddled my waist.

I can remember the look in her eyes when she locked them with mine and said, “Fuck me, please.” It was all the encouragement I needed to stand up while she wrapped those legs of hers around me, holding tight to my shoulders and neck. The sensation was beyond surreal as I held her there, our upper bodies exposed to the snow and cold weather, while my legs and her ass was still in the hot water of the tub.

My hands were gripping her small ass, holding her tightly as I stayed fully ensconced in her velvety depths. Her small breasts were pressed tightly against me and between the cold air, mixed with arousal, her nipples were sure to leave scratch marks on my bare chest. We had no care for what would happen later, and were just completely lost in the moment, so to speak “caught up in the now.”

I somehow managed to place her on the edge of the tub and went to work on her. Spreading her legs even wider as my large frame pushed hard into her. The hot water splashed and steam rose from our bodies as I thrust repeatedly into her depths. The hot and cold sensation on my thick shaft was almost overwhelming, especially when a cold breeze blew between our legs. Even now, thinking of that, I can only imagine how the sensation must have felt for her.

It was hard, intense and raw. The closer I got to my release, the more my fingers dug into her flesh. There was no doubt in my mind that she was going to have bruises from where I gripped her the next morning (I was right to). That’s when the expletives began pouring from her pretty little mouth, loud, louder, and even louder.

Have you ever watched the Porky’s movie where the male gym coach had the girl’s coach in the locker room? You know the scene, right? I’m talking about the scene where the woman starts howling like a coyote and it reverberates throughout the whole gym. All the while the man is trying to stuff her mouth with something to keep her quiet. Yeah, picture that, with nothing to keep her quiet with. At least the neighbors weren’t right on top of us, it would have made for a fun sight.

Finally, she reached her peak, and I felt her clench my thick shaft hard. Her body trembled and she stifled her even louder scream (yes, I said louder) by biting me on the shoulder. I swear, if you look close enough you can still see her teeth marks. Seriously. But that bite, that did it for me, over the edge I went driving in deep and hard, once, twice, three times…hands gripping her even tighter, lifting her off the edge of the tub, slamming her down onto me one final time, and exploding deep inside of her.

I felt her whimper into my shoulder as she continued grasping and releasing me with her velvet embrace. Then we sank back into the water, into that sublime heat and just relaxed, holding onto one another. All the while the snow only increased, falling in large snowflakes and dissolving into the steaming hot water or on our exposed body parts.

© AC Elliott, 27-Oct-17

This little trip down memory lane was inspired after reading a post on Caribou Crossings called “Snow and Hot Tubs”.