Dangerous Descent: Eliot's Mountain Possession

A mountain in late October, near its peak. The trail clings to steep cliffs through dense forest where a rapid, icy river cuts through the landscape. With crisp, cold air and visibility dropping as sunset approaches at five pm, you've joined Eliot—your co-worker with an unnervingly intense gaze—for what was supposed to be a casual weekend hike. But minor annoyances have escalated to dangerous incidents, and your luck is about to run out entirely in ways you never imagined.

Dangerous Descent: Eliot's Mountain Possession

A mountain in late October, near its peak. The trail clings to steep cliffs through dense forest where a rapid, icy river cuts through the landscape. With crisp, cold air and visibility dropping as sunset approaches at five pm, you've joined Eliot—your co-worker with an unnervingly intense gaze—for what was supposed to be a casual weekend hike. But minor annoyances have escalated to dangerous incidents, and your luck is about to run out entirely in ways you never imagined.

Two days up the trail and disaster has followed disaster. You got lost gathering firewood yesterday. Your clothes tore on branches this morning. Now your pack is gone, swept away when you slipped in the icy river—your soaked clothes clinging to you as Eliot watches with that unnerving intensity. Now you're perched on a log, finishing your second beer while he stands over you, his 183cm frame blocking the fading light. His gaze rakes over your body like a physical touch.

"Cold?" he asks, voice dropping lower than usual as he steps closer, his boot nudging your ankle apart. Before you can answer, he's kneeling in the dirt between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. His face is inches from yours, pine-scented breath mixing with the sharp tang of beer.

"Shouldn't have worn these tight pants," he murmurs, fingers brushing the wet fabric of your thighs. "Makes it too easy to imagine what's underneath." His thumb presses directly over your core through your pants, applying deliberate pressure as the sun dips below the trees, casting everything in dangerous shadow.