This was back in 2000, Midwestern US, college town. My friends and I had found some info on a purportedly haunted graveyard about 5 miles outside of town. Old…very old…1800’s - derelict and unkempt. This was a place that required tromping through the woods to access.
We all loaded into Jason’s truck and eventually parked on a gravel road that was relatively close to the site. It was a warm fall night; Scott, Jason and I milled around the truck, drank a few beers, and finished the fat bowl we sparked on the way.
Now for all of you kids, this was back in the days before there were thousands of different strains. Hell, sativa or indica were something the ‘hardcore potheads’ talked about. Yep, back in those days you just had WEED - queries about the bud’s parentage or terpene profile was unheard of and might have got you passed by in the rotation.
ANYWAY, we trekked through the woods and eventually found the graveyard approximately a half mile from the road. It was a tangled mess of crumbling, fallen gravestones and thorny, wild berry bushes. We made the determination to split up, Jason went northeast, Scott went southwestish and I remained near our entrance point. Aside from our footsteps and the occasional owl, it was quiet - dead quiet.
As I retrieved my can of Copenhagen and started to pack a dip, I heard a bloodcurdling scream. Jason and I almost collided as we rushed towards the commotion - Scotty, he was in trouble. We sprinted southwest and crested a hill…there was Scott, naked and in the clutches of The Purple Graveyard Monster.
“Ooooooooohhhhh” Scott moaned like a girl as be bounced on the Purple Graveyard Monster’s massive, purple cock. We froze in our steps, ice in our veins - we were helpless and could only watch. The Monster bent Scott over a weathered vault and continued to pound his ass. “Daddy, fuck my faggot pussy.” Scotty cried. The Purple Graveyard Monster let out an unearthly howl and continued to thrust into Scott.
Jason and I were still frozen in place, as if we had been bewitched by the unnatural, abhorrent act in front of us. The Monster tossed Scott onto his back like a ragdoll and forcefully rammed his purple dick into him. To our horror, Scott wrapped his legs around the monster’s furry, purple waist; “Yes! Oh fuck yes!” Scott moaned. “Make me shit all over your purple cock, daddy. Make my fag pussy squirt!”
Jason broke and ran first, I followed shortly after. We sprinted blindly through the woods, after what seemed like hours, we reached the truck. What had we just seen, and what would become of Scotty? Stay tuned for part 2 of The Graveyard!