Three or four times a year the D&D clubs in the city set out to enjoy a weekend
roleplaying in the countryside. This will be their last outing.
We watch as everything goes terribly awry!
the well watered countryside was to become the stage for
The Terror After the Rain
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Jason ran up over the ridge, terrified of the sight he had just witnessed. A fleeting glance over his shoulder he saw the killer standing over the body still laying face down in the muddy water with the bloody sword blade still protruding from his back. The stranger had pointed this way when he offered to let Jason use his phone so this was the only way to go for help.
Cresting the top of the ridge, Jason could see the buildings ahead. A barn, an old shed and a farmhouse. He spotted someone working near the barn cleaning out a flooded ditch with a rake. Another person disappeared into the barn just as he started down the hill.
"Help! Oh God, Help!" Jason pleaded.
"Who's there?" the man cleaning the ditch turned to see who was yelling. He was dressed in a camo shirt and tight shorts, and barefoot as he stood in the flooded trench. The outfit showed off the fit, muscular form and handsome features of the rugged worker as he dealt with the flood.
"Call the police, quick, He just killed a guy just over that ridge - right in front of me!"
"Whoa slow down there. Who's killing who?" Turning toward Jason he sized up the young intruder. He obviously was not sure what to make of what the young man was saying.
Jason looked at the handsome figure before him. Two massive arms rippling with toned muscle, and two ripped legs, strong and tanned. His ab muscles rippled under the snug camo. The water glistened off his skin and clothes and the wet shorts clung tightly to the contours of his firm buns in the back and outlined his well filled out crotch package. Shaking off the sudden admiration for this strikingly handsome figure before him, Jason started pleading. "He was right behind me. He just killed a guy that said he lived here." "I need to use your phone... PLEASE!" Jason started moving toward the house.
"Lived here? Do you mean Dean?" He asked.
"Tall guy, jeans, light brown shirt."
Still standing in the ditch, the man started toward the house. The realization that this frantic young man may be telling the truth started to change his expression from annoyed and incredulous to serious and even a little fearful.
"Dean? You said Dean is dead?
How, wha... Unhhhh"An odd, pained expression contorts the man's face. Jason watched as he straightened up, slowly arched his back and tumbled face down into the muddy ditch. Suddenly, Jason realized that the man had an arrow sticking up from between his shoulders! Looking up the path, he saw the killer taking aim with another arrow.
Turning to run, Jason dashed for the house, half expecting to feel an arrow between his own shoulder blades at any moment.
In the barn, Vince sat down on his stool and picked up his magazine. The heavy rain had caused a lot of work for them this morning and it was time for a break. Leafing through the pages he soon found his favorite picture of a muscular, naked cowboy getting a blowjob from an equally handsome, semi clothed companion.
Vice rubbed his bare chest and played with his nipples. They grew hard and erect as he pressed and stroked them. He tingled inside as his manhood swelled and started to push against his pants, wanting to get out.
Hearing a noise behind him he thought that Dean had returned from the ridge. He did not turn around to look, he just smiled and waited. If he played his cards right, he might be getting a blowjob, just like in the picture as soon as Dean saw what he had in his hand.
Expecting Dean to see the picture over his shoulder he waited...
"Give you any ideas?" he asked raising the magazine so that anyone behind him could plainly see the pictures.
"Just this one." The voice was not Dean! Vince dropped the magazine and started to turn.
Suddenly, his body exploded with incredible pain. Four sharp tines erupted from his chest as the assailant drove the pitchfork home shoving his body forward and snapping his head back with the sheer force of the vicious thrust. Vince's hoarse scream ended in a choking gasp as his body crumpled to the floor, face down. The killer admired his work, watching the pitchfork handle move while muscle spasms gave way to total stillness as the body surrendered to death. Satisfied that he had done well, he placed his foot on the body to hold it down as he pulled the pitchfork from Vincent's limp form and then hurried out the door eager to claim another victim.
Inside the house Jason found the base for the wireless phone but no phone. He searched frantically for the telephone handset. Not in the kitchen, not in the living room, bathroom, bedroom - "Damn!" He found a car inside the garage but no keys anywhere in the house either.
Somebody must have taken the phone outside. Maybe the keys were there in someone's pockets. He had to gat something...
Checking out the windows, Jason could not see anyone except the dead guy in the ditch. Remembering the person that disappeared into the barn as he hurried down the hill, he decided to try there.
Opening the door, he carefully scanned to see any sign of where the killer might be. - Nothing.
Running quickly to the barn, Jason stepped into the relative darkness and listened as his eyes adjusted. He could see a lighted room near the back of the barn. He quietly moved toward the door and looked in.
Holding back his urge to run away, he stared with horror at the sight before him. On the floor, face down was a dead body. Four bloody holes in a neat row across his back and a dirty footprint with still wet mud on his back told Jason all he needed to know about what had happened. Searching the warm corpse's pockets for keys or something. A cellphone!
"Oh God, Please work!" he prayed as he tried the phone. "Crap! No signal on this one either."
Outside, two men watch the barn, patiently waiting for Jason to come out. Their bows drawn, they see a movement in the doorway.
Jason looked toward the body in the ditch, arrow in his back. "Probably no phone or keys with him." he reasons, "No pockets in those shorts or tee shirt."
"Must be with the guy up over the ridge." Looking around, Jason still does not see anyone.
"Got to run for it!"
With that Jason bolted out the door and started toward the ridge.
The first arrow struck him in the lower right abdomen. Jason flinched with the pain but determined to keep running. Almost immediately a second hit him in the upper left chest. Jason staggered forward, still running up the hill in terror. His legs began to feel weak and he realized that he was not going to make it. He spotted the archers partially hidden in the bushes. One of them had another arrow ready to fire. He saw the arrow leave the bow and closed his eyes just as it found his pounding heart.
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While I enjoy a good arrow shot to the chest or back, I think having them pierce a guy's cock and nut sack would be very hot
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