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For All The Wrong Reasons	By : darqstar Category: G through L > House of 1000 Corpses Views: 4942 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own House of 1000 Corpses, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
If there are any mistakes made in this chapter? I won't be able to fix them until AFF is fully operational again.
LEGAL DISCLAIMER: I do not in any way own any part of the movies House of 1000 Corpses or The Devil's Rejects. I do not own most of these characters. They are the property of Rob Zombie, Liongate films, and whoever else holds a commercial or property license over them. This is fan fiction, intended for the sole purpose of entertainment. No one has been paid to write or host this story. No one is paid or will have to pay to read it.

THE STORY ITSELF DISCLAIMER: This story is rated NC-17, for disturbing images and excessive violence as much if not more than sexual contents. If stories involving murder, rape, extreme violence, cannibalism, humiliation, and so on, are not your cup of tea, DO NOT READ IT. If you are under the age of 18 don't read it either.

Specific Chapter Warning: Nothing you ain't seen already. Violence, bad language, etc.

Chapter Fourteen

One Sharp Pain, then Nothing.

Another useless miracle happened and I lived through Otis's assault. When I woke up, I was locked up in my box. My neck and throat felt as if someone had squeezed them in a vice grip for a few hours. The rest of me wasn't feeling much better. Well, maybe it wasn't a useless miracle, maybe Otis was more clever than anyone gave him credit for, and maybe he knew the exact amount of abuse he could pile on me and just manage to not kill me.

What woke me up were the sounds of Otis doing his �thing� with his latest victim. And from the sounds of it, his thing was getting pretty rough. I could hear the muffled cries of someone trying to scream through a gag. I could hear Otis laughing as he worked the poor girl, whoever she was, over. Part of me felt bad, because I wondered if he was being rougher with her, because he was disappointed in me. Another part of me was just relieved it was her and not me, taking the abuse.

I closed my eyes, trying to sleep, but not sure I would with the noise going on. The bed started moving, Otis was getting down to business. He was either doing some serious beating or some serious fucking. Maybe both. Poor woman would never know how good he could be in the sack, if he felt like it. Or, maybe she was the lucky one. Knowing how good he could be hadn't done me a damned bit of good.

I knew now that my reaction to the death of David was probably the worst thing I could have done. I'd disappointed Otis, and the worst part was that apparently, I'd been doing something �right� up until then, and I blew it with that. The problem was that I had no clue what �right� I'd been doing, or how to continue doing it, if I ever had the chance. My luck was going to run out real soon, if it hadn't already.

Lying in my box, I wept. Not just for me, but for the girl above me getting killed. For David who's sins were sharing similar features to Danny, being a horny bastard, and running into Otis. For all the people Otis had killed and all the ones he would kill. I cried for Karen too, the woman I once was. Yeah, Otis had managed to kill me, he just hadn't left a body for anyone to find. I was Otis's Whore, all right, even if I didn't have a lable to prove it, that's who I was.

Soon enough I'd join all the other victims and I'd be dead too. What surprised me was that I still didn't want to die. After all of this, I still clung to life. It wasn't like I had any hope of surviving, there was none. I would never get away. Now that I'd pissed off Otis, I doubted I'd even have the occasional fuck fest to at least bring a little brightness into a pretty much all black life. All I had was my stubborn insistence on fighting to survive. A part of me hated myself for that. Everything would be a whole lot easier, if I'd just give up and die.

*****

My first punishment, after the initial beating, was being kept in the box for about two days, as I was best able to estimate. No food, no water. When Otis finally opened the box to let me out, I nearly cried for joy at the sight of him. Not necessarily that it was him, but that I was seeing another human being. He said nothing though, just opened the box and stormed away, out of the room.

The first thing I did was crawl, yes crawl to the bathroom. Just like that night so long ago, I realized that my only source of water was going to be the toilet until I had enough fluid to gain some of my strength back. Unlike that first night, I didn't hesitate, I just did it.

When I felt enough of my strength coming back, I turned on the tub and drank from that instead. I thought about climbing into the tub and taking a bath; I was still covered in blood, mostly David's, but some of mine as well. I decided against it, knowing that if anyone, particularly Baby, decided she needed the bathroom, I'd never be able to get out fast enough and I couldn't take one of her �temper tantrums.� I settled for splashing water on me to get the worst of it out, then crawled back to Otis's room.

I went over to the pile of dirty clothes and poked around. Tiny hadn't forgotten about me, there was a bag with another can of that bubblegum and vanilla tasting �Big Red� soda, and a peach. I devoured the peach, hiding the pit in with the dirty laundry. When I was done with that, I felt almost human. I curled up on the dirty laundry and fell asleep.

*****

The second punishment was Otis's refusal to acknowledge me, which went on for quite a bit longer than two days. during that time, he just totally pretended I didn't exist. If I tried to talk to him, he would act as if he didn't hear me. That was as bad as being shoved in the box for two days. Maybe worse. At least when I was in the box, I figured if I wasn't in the box, he'd acknowledge me. Now that I wasn't, and he could pretend I wasn't there, it sometimes made me feel that maybe I had died and didn't know it. Maybe Tiny had already dragged my corpse out of the room and taken it wherever he took the dead bodies Otis and the others had finished with.

Just as I was beginning to believe that yeah, maybe I was a ghost, Tiny came in the room to take care of the latest body problem and Otis handed him a note that told him to take me to the cages. Tiny read the note looking confused, then picked me up and lugged me back to the basement.

None of the people who had been there when I arrived were there, but there were plenty of new people. As Tiny walked down the isle, probably trying to figure out what cage I should go into, the others were all staring at me suspiciously I was naked and had �Otis's Whore� carved on my thigh, I'm sure they didn't know who I was, or who's side I was on.

Poor Tiny didn't know what to do with me. I wasn't a typical victim anymore. He'd seen me around the house for quite awhile. Longer than any other prisoner of the place. I wasn't family, of course, but I wasn't one of the others either. So, what was he to do with me?

He finally put me all alone in the smallest cage down there, a cage that was set a bit apart from the others and very close to his bed. I stayed there for awhile, but Tiny still had trouble seeing me as an ordinary prisoner. He made sure to give me some water every day and most days some food too. This had its advantages for the other people down there, because giving me water every day, reminded Tiny that maybe he should give the others water too. But, I think I was really hated by all the others and if the had their chance, they would have ripped me to pieces. I didn't care. I was cold, lonely, and miserable. I spent most of my time curled up, trying to sleep.

I didn't see Otis for a long time, not even to come down and select a new playmate. I would find out later that the reason why, was because he, Rufus, and Baby had kidnapped five cheerleaders from the local high school, and Otis was really fascinated by them. Apparently, these were the ones who would finally understand him, at least that's what he believed. Praise be to the devil himself, five cheerleaders would be the ones. Yes, even the bogeyman was still, deep down, a man after all, and able to fall for the butt twitching skirt and sexual appeal of the oldest fantasy material around, god-damned cheerleaders.

Of course he was wrong and they weren't the miracle disciples he'd been hoping for all his life. So, they had to die. But, they lasted a fair bit. Not as long as me, but then again, they probably weren't willing to sell their souls to Otis take a sacrimental drink from the fucking toilet, and then carve their eternal devotion into their thigh to prove it.

While the whole hip-hip-hurray over the cheerleaders was going on, Halloween also came. And, naturally, the Firefly gang looked at Halloween as most people might look at Christmas or the sacred coming of the next messiah.

There was a big fuss that went down on Halloween, involving a group of kids that had been kidnapped by the family. Why this group was so special and different from all the others, I didn't know, but they caused quite the stir around the place. One of the girls was tied up on Tiny's bed. When she asked if she could leave, Tiny untied her. She started to run, but Otis ended up catching her and throwing her in another cage. Otis never even noticed I was there and this was the first time I'd seen him in awhile.

Something very serious happened over Halloween, something that couldn't be overlooked as easily as all the previous kidnappings and murders. I had no idea what it was, but when Halloween was over, I sensed something in the air and that something wasn't good. Even Tiny seemed preoccupied and a bit sad, as if he sensed something was going to happen that would change things forever.

When Otis came down to get fresh victims to play with, I noticed physical changes in him. The most obvious was that he was growing a beard. Beyond that, I think he was starting to go outside more in the daylight and maybe even eating better, because he was starting to look less pale. This combination of sun and proper diet seemed to be helping with that infection that made his eyes always look red and runny. He still looked dangerous, but he didn't look as crazy anymore. In fact, had I only run into him on the streets, I would have thought he was probably just a grubby biker or something. Beyond that, I wouldn't have given him a second look.

Now that I think about it, that's exactly what he wanted, exactly why he was doing all that. So he would be less noticeable, so he could fit into the �real world� easier.

Me? I spent most of my time in my cage, wondering why I hadn't died yet, wondering why I was still fighting to stay alive. Clinging to life seemed so stupid now, a stubborn habit I just couldn't let go.

Then, one day he came down to the basement and noticed me. I don't know if he thought I had died down here, but it seemed by his actions, that this was the first time he'd seen me down in the basement. He came over, opened the cage door, and motioned for me to come out.

I pulled myself to my feet and walked over to him. He shut the cage behind us, and directed me to walk in front of him. He hadn't said a word to me. I didn't say any to him as he lead me up the stairs, through the house and to his room.

When we got to his room, he still didn't say anything, just wrapped his arms around me and kissed me. Not in the mean way, but in the good way. I wrapped my arms around him and returned that kiss with all the enthusiasm I could muster. Tiny might have been making sure I had just enough food and water to survive, but he wasn't spending his time talking to me. The other prisoners hated me. I was missing the human contact. I think even if Otis had started yelling at me, I would have been thrilled, just to have another person paying some attention to me. His kissing me, and doing it in the �nice way,� was enough to make me want to cry. Neither of us spoke for awhile, we just got down to some serious exchange of body fluids.

It wasn't until round two of the mattress mambo, when I was on top, moving as best I could, that Otis started playing his games with me. �Who are you?�

�Your whore� I responded. The days had long past where I had to even think about that question.

�Forever?�

�Until the day you kill me,� I answered in a completely matter-of-fact voice.

I could tell my words pleased him, even if he didn't tell me in so many words. At times like this, Otis was more of a man of action.
*****

There were times when I speculated that the only reason I might have been allowed to live after David's death, was only because Otis had devoted enough time and energy to me that I sort-of knew him. I didn't understand him, no one did. I wasn't his friend, he didn't have any of those. The only people Otis cared about, besides Otis, were his family. But, I had learned enough about him, that in most cases I was at least predictable. I could say the things he wanted to hear without too much, or in some cases, any prompting. He could still rape me if he wanted, and on those occasions where he preferred sex over rape? Well, I knew how to handle that too. Not only did I know what to do, but he never had to worry about hesitation. �Sorry dear, but I just don't feel like doing that tonight,� were words he'd never hear from me, and it wasn't just because I was afraid of him either. He knew I liked it when the sex was good and I think he got a big kick out of that.

Despite the fact that I was so messed up, that thinking was becoming a rather difficult process and it was becoming easier to just blank out, I'm sure I spent a whole lot more time thinking about Otis than he spent thinking about me. Then again, in a twisted way, he'd become God to me, and why should God concern himself with me? He held power over life and death. He certainly wasn't anything like the God I'd grown up to believe in, but even that God had started out as a rather vengeful, bloodthirsty, bastard until he saw a pretty virgin and decided it was time to have a kid. Maybe, if given half the chance, Otis would evolve into someone who would learn to suffer the inferiors. It wouldn't wouldn't happen in my lifetime though.

I was back in the room, and for awhile, life was like I'd come to know and different at the same time. I spent time in his room and in my box, which was the same, but leaving became harder. I was told by Otis and later Baby, that if I ever went downstairs, I would be killed. I wondered why and the conclusion I came up with fit in with everything else going on. The Firefly clan was expecting visitors. Not welcome ones either, but visitors they wouldn't be able to deny. They weren't sure if their arrival would be bold or casual, but they couldn't have a filthy, half starved, naked woman running around the place. How do you explain that to the Avon Lady?

Losing the right to go downstairs didn't bother me all that much, because my walking hadn't improved any and was in fact, getting worse. Tiny was still in my corner too, and bringing me food, so really, I had very little reason to go downstairs. Sometimes I was escorted to the bathroom, sometimes I had to drag my way there alone, but at least I could get there.

After Halloween, Thanksgiving came. I knew that because Tiny brought me leftover turkey a couple times. One time he brought me a turkey sandwich with stuffing and cranberry sauce, on a roll. I stared at it, almost afraid of it, then I realized what it was and I almost cried. I wonder if Tiny knew he'd made one of my, or should I say, Karen's favorite sandwiches growing up. We in New England called it a �Cape Codder.� It was one of the biggest meals he ever brought me, and I was able to get over my nostalgia so I could eat it.

I knew when it was the Christmas season, because Mama came into the room and put one of those plastic �candles� with the red and yellow flame shaped light bulbs in the window. Yeah, a family who lived in the middle of nowhere, but Mama decorated the windows as if she expected neighbors and carolers to stop by.

My family had grown up with lights just like that. I think every child of the '70s remembers those lights. If your family didn't use them, your neighbors most likely did. The first night Mama put it up, Otis was out of the room. She plugged it in, turned it on, and left without a word.

When Mama left, I moved so I was across from the window and just stared at the light. When Otis came back, he looked at the light for a moment, then shook his head, rolling his eyes. Obviously he didn't see the point. But, he didn't remove it either. He turned it off every night before he went to bed, but wouldn't turn it on in the evening. Mama or I did that. If Otis was leaving me alone, but not locking me in the box, I would just sit and stare at that light. I was really sorry when Christmas ended and that light was removed.

After the Holiday season was over, I started losing track of the days again. Otis continued with his raping/killing games. He also continued raping, beating, and having sex with me. What he stopped doing was ranting as much. He stopped talking about being leader of the rebellion, or about how no one could understand him. It was like he was becoming more - sane. Yes, killing people, raping people, all his little games were signs of an unbalanced mind, but some of his insanity was the type that would make it really difficult to slide under the radar if forced to leave this house. Being grubby doesn't attract a lot of attention. Ranting and raving about the human subject as being processes through a vehicle or other things along that vein were likely to get you a trip to the loony bin at least for evaluation. It was that sort of stuff he stopped doing.

After the Holiday Season, I believe in February, Grandpa died. No one came in and told me, but Baby came to Otis's room and cried on his shoulder a few times and that's how I found out. Oddly enough, I was rather sad to hear it. Grandpa had been a nut job, and probably in his day, he could murder, rape, torture and mutilate with the best of them, but I knew him as the eccentric guy who told me stupid jokes. Yeah, he also tried to feel me up and down, but the jokes he told, well, at least he made me feel as if I were almost human.

After Grandpa died, things began to get even more tense around the house. Someone was visiting a lot too, because I could hear a strange voice in the house. A male voice that was deep and carried really well. I heard Baby referring to him as �Daddy.� I heard Otis refer to him as many things, �Daisy� and �Numb nuts� being two favorites, so I gathered the two of them shared no blood and liked it that way. From what I could gather, everyone in the house were making plans for the day �Things happened.�

I started to get really scared by this talk. It was clear the family was sensing their days were numbered, which left me to wonder what would they do with me and the people in the basement when they felt the noose really tighten? Would they kill everyone and leave no witnesses? Would they use us for hostages in hopes of getting free?

Otis became more and more tense. This tension lead to him ignoring me a lot, as he became too busy to bother. But, on the times he did decide to make me the focus of his anger, he became even more vicious.

He started sending me to the cages more and more too. One time when I was brought up, I saw my box had been removed. I knew then that my days of having any freedom to go anywhere, to be able to use the bathroom at least, were over. If I wasn't being used by Otis, I would be in the cage.

My times in the cage without being brought upstairs became longer and longer. Things in the basement weren't so great either. Tiny was becoming affected by the worry the family was suffering and he would forget to bring any of us any food or water for longer periods of time.

One night as I was curled up in my tiny cage, trying to sleep, Tiny came down, opened the door and scooped me up. I wondered what was up, but said nothing. It had been so long since Otis had come down and taken me, I was convinced he had forgotten about me. When Tiny brought me to Otis's room and put me down, I had no clue how to react.

Otis was standing in his room, looking as if he was waiting for me. The moment Tiny left, he came over to me, grabbed my arms and looked at me. �Who are you?�

I opened my mouth to tell him, but instead of words, a raspy, gasping sound came out. I closed my mouth, swallowed and tried again. Again, my mouth tried to form words, but no sound was coming out.

�Answer me!� Otis demanded, shaking me.

I did nothing, just let him shake me.

�ANSWER ME!� Otis yelled now, shaking me harder. �WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?�

I tried again to tell him my name and was completely unsuccessful My mouth opened and I tried and tried to tell him. Gasping noises came from my throat, strange gurgling sounds, but no words. I felt as if I were one of those talking dolls, but I was the one with the broken string. I'm never going to talk again, I thought, my voice is broken and I won't live long enough for it to heal. That thought should have made me sad, but it didn't. It didn't make me happy either, instead it was more of a calm, acceptance. Fate was catching up to me, it was about time.

He gripped me harder, looking ready to kill me, then, just as fast his expression changed and he began to laugh. �You're trying!� he said, between bouts of laughter, �I can see yer mouth moving. Okay, I'll cut you some slack tonight, bitch but if you don't die before the next time I take you, you'd better be ready to say it.�

I silently hoped and prayed he was going to be nice to me, since he was cutting me some slack on my inability to speak. Of course, he wasn't. He didn't beat me, but he threw me on the bed and raped me, being hard and mean about it.

When he was finished using me as a sperm receptacle and recovered, he rolled on top of me, straddling my waist. Normally, when he did that, he would sit on my stomach/hips, which was really painful, but today he was raised slightly, putting his weight on his knees instead. He wrapped his hands around my throat, but didn't squeeze, just rested them there. �Do you want to die?�

Part of me felt this was it, this was the moment everything had lead up to. Otis was going to kill me, just as he promised. My luck had finally run out. Still, I shook my head, no.

�Are you sure?� His voice didn't sound as cold as it normally did when he was talking about my death. I know I was reading things into it, that weren't true, because I would have sworn I he sounded almost sad. �I could do it so quick, you'd barely know what happened. One sharp pain and then nothing.�

The way he was speaking, he made death sound almost sexy. Still, I shook my head no. I wouldn't give him permission to kill me. When the time came to end my life, he'd have to murder me like he'd done with everyone else. I'd let him manipulate me so I'd ended up doing all the work the first time he raped me. I had let him tell me to do a lot of things and done them all. I gave a guy a blow job, just so he could slit his throat at the moment of death for some twisted purpose I still didn't understand, but I would not give him this victory. I would not turn his murder of me into an assisted suicide instead. I was owed that much.

�Fine, have it your way.� He rolled off me and off the bed and put his jeans on. He half carried, half dragged me down to the basement and locked me back into my tiny cage.

That was the last time I'd see his face.

The next time I saw him, he would be running through the basement with Baby, heading for the emergency exit. He never even looked in my direction. I'd heard the gunfire upstairs earlier, we all had. Most of the other prisoners were hopeful. I just waited to see what would happen.

The next people to come down the stairs were the police. Those in the cages who were able to, began begging, weeping, and crying. They were convinced they were saved from death.

None of them seemed to remember that two of the worst ones in the family had escaped. And I was sure I would never forget.

**********

Author's Notes: No, it's not over yet. There is an epilogue to this too.
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For All The Wrong Reasons

One Sharp Pain, then Nothing.