There is a monster out there, a she-wraith that preys on mankind through his own unwholesome actions, thoughts, and words, along with every inclination towards them. It can be said that this beast lurks the lands of every continent where there is human life. Since the fall of man, she has stalked her food with a passion and lust for blood and for souls to claim for her master. She has even dragged to hell the souls of her victims with her foul, hairy claws, should they have been mortal sinners. Among her aliases from cultures plagued, she goes by one key word synonymous with the flaw of man: Concupiscence.

JUNE 21, 1946: SCRANTON, PA

“This is great!” Marie says to Don, eyeing the stars in the moonlit sky from the back of his maroon pickup. They were spending an evening on a quiet hill that summer. They had just left the theatre in Scranton and were heading home.

 “I figured this would be a nice place to check out. I know you like to look at stars, which you can see pretty easily out here,” Don stated.

“Well, it’s really nice out here. What time do you plan on bringing me home?” Marie curiously asked, her heart filled with butterflies.

As they spoke, Don began to blush. He seemed to be getting closer to her. Meanwhile, the forests began to stir, and the crickets stopped chirping.

“Ummm, in a few minutes, Marie, I don’t know.” Don answered, wanting to sluff off the subject .“You said you had to be home by eleven, right?”

“Yes, and I don’t know what time it is,” she protested, “My father is gonna kill you if I am home late, and me!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll get you home on time,” groaned her boyfriend. “It’s getting chilly, out here, isn’t it?” 

“Well, perhaps you could bring me home, now, Don. What time is it, anyway?”

Giving in, Don checked his watch.

“It’s twenty minutes till eleven,” Don warbled, now coming closer to Marie.

At that moment, Don began to pucker his lips slightly, but when he moved to kiss her, she snapped, “You need to bring me home, Don!”

Suddenly, a branch nearby snapped from a tree that shook more than the wind could cause it to, and Marie noticed a shadow land from behind the pines.

“Did you hear that?” she simpered in alarm.

“Yeah, it’s windy out here!”

“We need to go, Don,” she replied, “There is something out here. I saw it!”

“Alright, alright! We’ll go. You sure know how to make a-”

Now he saw exactly what his girlfriend was talking about, and the first thing his mind came to was, get the shotgun!

The shadowy figure had a jet black cloak about it. A hood covered all the face except her pale white chin that held her lips in place. They resemble Marie’s lips. Don opened the door to his truck, reached for his rifle, and noticed the cloaked phantom approaching at a consistent stride, walking patiently but persistently. Then, going faster gradually the cloak expanded and hairy, arachnid-like claws appeared. He cocked that rifle, aimed and fired! 

Marie made her final scream.

EPILOGUE

Seventy-three years ago, this couple disappeared without any trace fit for the police to recover their presence. The only footprints discovered at the scene were right next to the driver’s door of the pickup Don Rafferty left behind before drawing out his shotgun for one final blow. No fingerprints were to be found, not even on the rifle left behind the seats of the pickup. The only bloodshed detected was the splatter right where Marie’s head lay before she disappeared. Without sufficient evidence, the police had no power to investigate any murder or charge any culprit. The circumstances appeared to be supernatural, something outside the abilities of any human criminal.

In spite of all the theories, locals in the unfortunate teenage couples’ hometown and in the other towns surrounding the city of Scranton believe that an unholy creature had come from hell to feast on them, possibly even in service of the Devil. Not the first of her attacks, she always has and always will continue to hunt, until the consummation of the earth, when her doom impends.