The old town was roused on the second night of Termina under new purpose: jubilee. All long victims of moonscorch, they gathered sickles, knives, pitchforks, whatever crude tools could be wielded in celebration of cosmic duty. Their minds, once addled by rejection of the god's demands, now sung clearly with new purpose: paint the grounds red, let no stone remain bare of gore, make merry for Termina! All contestants must die, but when wonderful virgin maidens are the victims, some fun is permitted as well. After all, these are the times to celebrate.
"Run, Karin!" Abella shouted, ducking into an old apartment block, the twisted, deformed villagers demanding their pound of flesh and other fun behind them.
Karin followed suit, slamming the door behind them, the sound of the mob filling their ears. The door was as old as the building itself, rotten wood barely holding together, and wouldn't hold against the mob for more than a minute. "They were scattered before, what the fuck happened?!" Karin panted, catching her breath.
"I don't know, something changed," Abella said, scanning the room. There wasn't anything useful here, just old furniture and trash littering the lobby.
"Fuck this!" Karin cursed, kicking an empty tin can.
The door responded with a bang, the mob throwing themselves against it.
Karin's eyes darted between Abella and the door. "I'm gonna keep climbing up floors," she stated, turning towards the stairs. "You should find another exit."
"And risk meeting the mob? Not a chance," Abella replied, already following Karin up the stairs. "What, are you trying to ditch me?"
Karin rolled her eyes. "No," she replied, ascending another flight. "I'm just trying to stay alive."
Abella scoffed. "And I suppose splitting up will increase your chances?" she questioned, quickening her pace to catch up.
Before Karin could answer, she heard a loud crash come from below, the stomping of old work boots, clicking of heels, and slapping of bare feet. A fervent voice, slurred by the Trickster God's curse, echoed throughout the stairway: "There is no other way! He demands it! It's jubilee! Two wonderful virgins! It must be a reward! Praise Him for filling our gardens with fruit!"
Karin broke into a sprint, taking two steps at a time. Her heels weren't doing her any favours. "Look, I don't care if you follow me or not!" she yelled, reaching the roof access. "But I'm getting the fuck outta here!" She tried the handle thrice with sweat-soaked hands - locked. She slammed her weight into the door, but it wouldn't budge. Shit. She felt her heart, already beating fast from adrenaline, start pounding faster, as the possibility of a gruesome death prickled her mind, hideously climbing flights of stairs to reach her. Anything, she needed to do anything to survive.
Without another word, she ducked down a flight, and tried various apartment doors. Locked, locked, open! It was far sturdier too, to her luck. Karin threw open the unlocked door, the mob growing closer by the second. She rushed inside, Abella still in the hallway trying to keep up with her. She slammed the door shut behind her, locking it... and Abella out.
The adrenaline was coursing through her veins as she slid down the door, panting heavily. Abella's muffled protests came from outside, but Karin tuned it all out. This was how it always went, Karin surviving while others suffered. "Karin! Open the door!" the banging continued. Karin heard the mob outside the door now, and she found herself unable to do anything but listen as, well, in the way the moonscorched had put it... Abella was the fruit in their gardens. Her pleas turned into muffled moans as the shredding of cloth could be heard. "Help! Ahhhnnn! Stop!" she cried.
She listened, guilt and fear swirling together, as Abella screamed and begged outside. She remained frozen, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention until it all stopped. "No—Ahh—Karin open the—mmmmm—door!" Abella begged, moans spilling from her lips despite her attempts to suppress them. Her heart refused to stop lurching and palpitating, but a growing seed of something else was contributing, growing to equal the fear.
She stared with wide eyes down at nothing in particular, her mouth slightly agape and her chest rising and falling with each erratic breath. "Hah... hah..." her breaths came quicker and shorter as she felt the thumps of the door against her back, brought on by things only her imagination could conjure. It made her lower belly, tightly compressed by her turtleneck, throb intensely. Paralyzed in place, she now listened far more intently to Abella moaning outside as her inner thighs became dampened by something that was certainly not sweat.
Finally, after a deafening shriek, only silence called out from behind the door. She held her breath, worried the villagers would hear her pants of arousal and storm in next. As her mind raced through plans of action, the mob finally began to leave. Heavy footsteps clambered down the hall, and away from the door Karin sat against.
She slowly brought her eyes upwards from the floor, though still stared ahead vacantly. She was scared, an unwanting witness to Abella's violation, and yet all the signs of her arousal lingered still. Her heart still beat wildly in her chest, her breaths shallow and shaky... and under her pleated skirt, a whole host of strange, gooey sensations radiated from her nethers. She didn't have to check. It was steamy hot down there, her pantyhose clinging moistly to her fat pussy mound which refused to stop drooling quim, her panties wedged deep up her slit and stuck in place with clear pussy slime. She wasn't just turned on... She was absolutely dripping. She hadn't even touched herself, yet everything between her legs was absolutely sticky and slimy with cunt honey.
Why? Why now of all places? Karin knew the dangerous situations she often landed herself in could bring some light thrill, maybe a few butterflies in her tummy, or even cause her nethers to stir somewhat. Likely a natural biological response to fight or flight, she reasoned... But never anything like this.