Recent content by Mariah Boucheron

Trapped between two foes among a river of enemies, whether mannequin or dead flesh amalgamated with dark spirit, there was no telling what kind of hell Mariah and Kayden had ended up in, but they were thinking the same thing that moment. Down one end of their hallway, a cerberus, a hydra, a...

Maybe that was her worst fear. To feel fear. To be frozen in fear. So terrified you are motionless, like a deer caught in headlights, only there was no light in this tunnel except for flashlights. Mariah’s illuminated the mannequin’s face that came her way, only it was an amalgamation of many...

“RUN! RUUUUN!” Kayden didn’t need to tell Mariah twice. Her machete didn’t matter. Even if it could hack away into these things, there would be no blood to spill, no bone to break, no life to end. She was already defenseless against these dead threats. But she did successfully defend herself...

There was nothing remarkable about this mannequin. To find a mannequin in a factory was as normal as finding bags of popcorn. It all depended on the industry, on the purpose, on the function. So, whatever Kayden thought when he looked at that plain generic mannequin face, Mariah wondered...

The corridor beyond the door was as dark as when she had left it. Past the entrance whose room was still lit at her back, exposing the shadows between both planes of existence, Mariah had to admit it: she wanted to go back and never look back. Really, that was the madness. That was the fallacy...

It should have been a mountain. A mountain on an island surrounded by ocean. Maybe that’s where Mariah Boucheron should have had her honeymoon. Where her husband, not Kayden, had taken her to her bedroom, had bedded her, over and over again. Instead, they had elected for a cabin in the woods...

It could have been the shower. Maybe it was. Maybe that was yet another apartment encounter she had forgotten upon waking up from her deep slumber, only to find herself in a room that was no bedroom. It was colder, lonelier, quieter. Yet there was a scream inside her, quiet at first, like the...

It wasn’t enough. It just wasn’t enough. Not for her. Not for him. Not for Mariah. Not for Kayden. She was getting as much as he was giving. That itself was delightful, even for him. As his fingers curved, as they searched, so determined to find her treasure, its precise location, but not with...

It sounded like rain. It felt like the river. It smelled like the ocean. It tasted like water. It looked like the lake. Those seas in his eyes, dark as chocolate, where her own were green. His eyes slipped into hers, like his fingers had that night, like his member had. But what rushes within...

It felt like before. She had traced the contours of his face, the outline of his hips, the grooves between his muscled chest and back, the curves of his biceps, just like before. Now as then. Then as now. Behind closed doors. Alone. Together. Only them. Nobody and nothing else mattered. It was...

It was warm. Not hot. Didn’t burn her. Yet Kayden’s skin was suddenly alive again. Like hers. Warm against her fingers which still cradled his head, as if a hand had subconsciously slid down to his neck, the other at the back of his head, even as they both stared off into the distance. But they...

It felt cold. This wasn’t winter’s kiss. It wasn’t that frigid, like when you step outside to witness the world covered in white, frozen over in snow. No, it was cold, but the chill was a welcome breeze considering the heat. The heating wasn’t even on, but everything was heated. Every ounce...

It sounded like rain. At least…it had. Back in that bathroom. That tap. That broken pipe. That ruined faucet. That dirty, disgusting toilet. That dirty, disgusting woman. That dirty, disgusting man. In spite of them, despite the filth, that rain…that rain was soothing…and that memory was like...

Those moments in the ocean, back farther than even the restaurant, all on her lonesome, were so slow. Being out deep at sea, floating in between waves, sweet and serene, was calming and kind of like camping. To be honest, Mariah was never much for being in the forest. She liked her toilets...

RUN! Oh fuck does she run! Except where!? Where the hell does she go!? She has a machete. It won’t do much against the snapping jaws of three dogs though. There was no way she could take them on without walking out cut up and bitten if living to begin with. Couldn’t outrun them. Maybe she...