~ CAPTIVE STAR ~
‘Catch a falling star, keep it in your pocket, and NEVER let it go free.’
Starlette Silverstone’s eyes popped open with a start as she gasped in horror. Her trim arms and her lithe legs were extended over a stone table, spread eagle. Her tired limbs were tied up and her perky breasts were half exposed under her black corset. Her pores were opened so she was sweating oceans. Her damp hair changed colors as if the twilight dripped a bloody crimson in the nightfall.
She glanced up to the sky. It was mind-blowing. Pockets of clear sky peeked through a different sky. Twin moons covered the atmosphere like a pair of scarlet eyes piercing in anger that echoed the albinos’ red eyes.
She was definitely not in Kansas anymore.
Atop of a volcanic range overlooking the jagged span of mountains, it flowed down the Turbulus River. Glowing green lava spurt in a rhythm over the jagged mountain peaks that looked like lime curtains opening and closing.
Congo drums filled the stifling air with a stucco beat. The volcano spires were alive like haunted beings. The albino natives chanted with a mad mania in the firelight.
On the other shadowy side of the spooky island, it throbbed a sinister rhythm like a hearing imminent whistle. It called its warning sign demise above the roar of the crowd. Overhead, vampire bats screeched a mating call. In the menacing sky, the hellish dragons circled cautiously. They swooped down to catch flesh for dinner, eager to taste the new flavor of the young maidens.
They were polluted by Qur’an Therouxan men.
They must die.
Starlette screamed as an old wrinkled albino woman lifted her panties to the side. The red-eyed woman examined her womanhood. Her filthy fingers prodded and poked her membrane.
Starlette was dying of embarrassment.
The old woman spoke in an unfamiliar language.
The tribe hollered in triumph.
The chief’s overweight son stepped forward on the stone table. His heavy feet swaddled like an overgrown baby.
The tribe savored every move. Drums pounded faster and faster.
Like a sickly prince, he did his duty. He lifted his neck, lifted his apron of flesh and his hands were on his cock. He fondled himself until he was hard. His cock leaked lethal semen. He was ready.
Starlette wriggled her legs in vain. The ropes were taut. She couldn’t move an inch to scratch herself or to blow a lock of hair from her face. She was utterly helpless. She whispered to herself, “Oh my god.” Panic crept in.
She turned her neck to the side and saw a shrine of skulls hissing a lethal warning.
Her clenched teeth as she tried to loosen the straps. Her fists balled while she tugged on the straps, leaving angry marks on her wrists. Her inner thighs were covered with red spots desperately trying to get free from her dreadful nightmare. Her sweet dream went rogue on her. Sweat trickled down her body from the humid heat like a wet blasting furnace. Her stomach lurched in nervousness. Her heart pounded faster as the native’s drumbeat. Her parched throat was zinging. Her shaky legs were strained. Her forehead furrowed in concentration. She must get free!
The fleshy albino zombie drew closer and closer until he was on the stone table. He was on his knees, looking at her. He smiled the most haunting grin ever. He spoke in evil language and he ululated. His plump face was like a creepy ghost and his eyes were like a stop sign, a red-flashing glare.
He went for the kill. He scooted her panties down as he pressed down into her creamy thighs.
Starlette screeched, “Get off of me. You don’t have to do it.” She pleaded in vain, “Please, don’t do it!”
His laughter rang like a hungry ghost that fed on the innocent.
His breath was like a rotten corpse.
The gnarly trees sprouted eyes.
A flaming arrow flew in the middle of their holy temple ruin.
A swooping sound was heard as it traveled through the air. It landed straight through his head. It burrowed in the back of his skull.
He grimaced in pain as his red eyes rolled over in his skull. His undead death came quickly. He couldn’t scream in agony because his corpulent body was dead again. Instead, he stumbled forward and plopped onto Starlette’s chest. He collapsed on Starlette with a flaming arrow in his back.
She was really in a pickle and she was truly helpless.
His dead weight was enough to squash her. The flaming arrow sprouted into sparks of evilness as it traveled through the tip. It burst into flashes of fireworks like a shooting spider.
The natives scattered everywhere in horror while the chief howled his cry of anguish. He screamed in agony like a haunted melancholy melody sung in black bile. His song was enough to wake up the dead as he continued wailing.
The chief’s son massive weight under her was unbearable.
She gasped for breath. She thought to herself, she was going to be crushed to death before she burned.
Starlette was throttled. She gagged and closed her eyes before the death rattle came to deliver her.