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Dangerous	By : FlameWolf666 Category: G through L > House of 1000 Corpses Views: 7010 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from House of a 1000 Corpses. All rights to the material belong to Mr. Zombie. This is just for fun and I make no profit from it.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
WARNING!!: Desecration of Dead Bodies! Forced Mutilation of Loved One's Remains!

Author's Note: A shout out to MandyRose! Thanks for all the support! It means a lot when writing something like this!

Chapter Fifteen: That Feeling in the Pit of Your Stomach

You ever just wake up and know things are going to go wrong? Not just wrong but, horribly, terribly, unendingly wrong? So wrong that you want to go back to sleep before you wake up? Before I even opened my eyes, I had that feeling. It's a feeling that centers in the pit of your stomach and radiates up to your heart if given enough time. For one thing, it was far too quiet as I opened my eyes; especially given the fact that George Wydell, his deputy and Denise's father were supposed to show up some time today. In fact, they were supposed to have shown up already, only making that feeling inside me grow into deep unease. Things were just too quiet, only the sound of Otis' buzz-saw snores filling the room instead of the knocking from downstairs or the panicked Mama at our room door.
Sitting up with some difficulty due to my growing tummy, I allowed the blankets to slither to my lap. Our child rolled and stretched, giving me a slight fluttering feeling in my womb. Looking from the dome to the still dead asleep murderer, I was filled with fresh determination to see this thing the rest of the way through. If things began to go too badly, I would have to break from the plan and tell them before the cops were murdered. Running a hand over my face I got out of bed to walk over to the dresser, grabbing my clothes from the nearly empty drawers. As I went to slip on a pair of panties, I became aware of the fact things had now gone eerily silent. That stillness was the only warning I got, a hand snatching the underwear out of my hands. The soft purring noise of cloth ripping behind me told me that I wouldn't be allowed to wear undergarments.
A hot mouth hovered over the scruff of my neck, his hands landing on my large hips as he rubbed the leaking tip of his morning wood against my lower back. Without him having to ask, I bent forward and spread my legs for him; getting an almost affectionate smack on my right butt-cheek for my compliance. Roughened fingers played with my entrance to find me almost entirely dry. While this wouldn't have normally stopped the killer, he made low noise of disapproval before his hand left my womanhood. A bit confused, I turned my head slightly to see him spitting on his fingers. When he looked up, his eyes locked on me and he gave me something very close to a smirk as his index and middle fingers began to play with my clitoral hood.
It wasn't too long before the skillful, if not urgent ministrations were causing low, thick curls of arousal to start weaving their way through my occupied womb. Soft moans left my lips as my thighs began to shake, a growl mixing with my quiet sounds. “That's a good whore. You have no idea how lucky you are I'm even botherin' t'do this fer ya. After how good you've been, ya deserve a treat,” came a strained rasp, his breath leaving in hard pants as his bony digits continued to play with me. Then they were slipping into my passage, a snarl ripping from his chest as my walls fluttered around the intrusion.
“So fuckin tight. No matter how many times we fuck or how rough, you're always so tight,” bit out his angry mid-tone, the last word more of a hiss than anything else as his middle finger hit something in me that made me nearly collapse as lust clamped my lower body in a powerful vice.
“There it is. Right fuckin' there,” breathed his raspy voice as he gave that spot one, long, hard stroke. A shudder tore through my gravid body and a moan of his name left me as my lust became almost unbearable.
The coiling knot within my lower body felt more like a nest of live snakes and I felt my hands gripping the drawer I had pulled out as noises I never made before poured from my mouth. I was dimly aware of begging him for something as he brought me oh so close to the edge. Then he was leaving me, the neediness that filled me like hot agony. Tears actually rolled down my pale cheeks as I quickly bit my lower lip to keep in the begging that wanted badly to spill forth. I had already begging him more than enough. I had no idea if he had already found the action annoying or if he wanted me to continue and I found it hard to think with the almost undeniable want consuming me. It felt like if he didn't fuck me or allow me to orgasm soon, I would either implode or die on the spot.
That was when I felt his body lean over mine, his body heat nearly beating against my naked back. Hot breath hit the nape of my neck again before he was pressing himself against me to bite my earlobe. “Does my little slut need me t'fuck her, t'show her where her place is?” he breathed, his voice an unsteady, throaty growl. Hands came up to fondle my pendulous breasts, flicking my nipples until my milk flowed over his fingers.
“Yes, sir,” I whispered, my tone utterly submissive as I felt him begin to tub his tip along my quivering lips.
One of his hands let go of me to wrap in my hair and give a hard yank as he laved his tongue slowly up my jugular. Knowing he could feel my racing pulse through the sensitive muscle, I whimpered as I unconsciously rubbed my thighs to gain some sort of relief from the blazing fire within me. “Beg fer it then. Let me hear jest how much ya need my cock inside ya,” came a demand as his tip entered me ever so slightly.
“Please Otis, I need it! I-I need it so much I can't breathe! Please fuck me!” I practically howled, not caring if the entire house heard me.
“Good girl Raven,” grunted the psychotic male before he was taking me in one thrust.
A pleasured scream of his name left me as he stilled briefly, breathing hard through gritted teeth as his steel hard manhood pulsed inside my tight canal. Every inch of him filled me, his balls resting against my clit as he seemed to gather himself. “Hang on tight,” advised a voice that made gooseflesh scatter across my arms. I barely had enough time to do as he had ordered before he was taking me hard and rough. Wails and guttural noises of pleasure seemed to be forced up out of my body as his hips slammed into me. I was dimly aware of his own noises in response to mine, the coil of need within me tightening until it was white hot. Then I was imploding and exploding at the same time, barely able to distinguish which direction was up as I felt Otis empty into me.
“Ah fuck, fuck,” gasped the murderer, shaking slightly as he shifted.
Instead of pulling out and getting dressed like I was used to, the thin male simply stayed where he was; breathing hard as his hands rested on my distended belly. “We got work t'do today,” he declared, while not moving a single muscle. Twitching, stubble dusted lips came to rest on where my right shoulder met my neck. It wasn't a kiss per-say, more like a touch and he inhaled deeply as he wrapped me into one of his strange, hug-like holds as every part of him seemed to melt into me.
“Mmmm, you don't seem all that worried about 'work',” I found myself purring in an almost sassy manner as I gave him a squeeze with my inner walls. Just hearing it nearly made my heart stop in my chest. It certainly didn't help that the unpredictable beast had gone absolutely still over me.
Then there was a gruff, strange sound that almost sounded like a weird coughing. Yet it wasn't and the longer it went on, the more it changed into something I could almost recognize as laughter. “Yer actually talkin' back t'me now. My, you have gotten brave,” he chuckled, the sound barely being a chuckle in the first place. I could feel terror crawl over my skin in an icy wave and I prayed for my death to be painless as the 'laughter' continued.
“You know, not even Baby speaks back t'me,” came a gruff voice by my ear as the hands that had been on my stomach moved to grip my hips in a painful manner.
Closed my hazel eyes, I fought against my terrified tears as my heart tried to beat its way out of my chest. I didn't waste breath begging or reminding him of everything we had gone through during our five month long relationship. If he had decided to kill me for disrespecting him, everything I tried to do to stop it would only aggravate the situation further. Against my will, one of my tears escaped to roll down my cheek as I began to shake slightly. When a callused thumb brushed the moisture away, I initially flinched out of instinct. The digit twitched for a moment before the whole hand was cradling my left cheek. “I ain't gonna hurt ya,” came a whisper as he touched his lips between my shoulder blades.
“You should know that by now. Besides, ya were only playin' and I gotta say I like that ya have the gumption to talk t'me like that in private. Jest don't do that in front of th'others,” he continued, pulling back to give my butt another light smack before he pulled his flaccid member from me.
Feeling a fair share of relief, I straightened before continuing to search for a shirt as well as some pants. Mama had loaned me some of her maternity clothes and most of them were still a bit too big. Some of them, however, fit depressingly well. Thankfully, not all of them were neon pink or looked like something the sixties had thrown up on. Pulling out a red top, I tugged out a pair of maternity jeans as well. Still feeling his cum dribbling down my inner thighs, I pulled on my clothes as I tried to reconcile the fact that I had just gotten away with what would have amounted to playful banter to anyone else. “I know better than to do that,” I whispered as I began to look for my tennis shoes.
“Yeah, I have no doubt ya do. Come on downstairs, we're gonna set out some more decorations and I want yer help,” Otis replied before walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him.
When I found my shoes, I followed suit; wincing when I heard very male screams coming from Baby's room. My stomach turned at the thought of what she was doing to Jerry and I forced myself to continue walking. As I made my way down the hall, I saw Hugo's room and fought the urge to give it a wide berth. Surely the old man wasn't dumb enough to try anything after the last time. As I walked by, the door opened wider and a pair of hands shot out to grab my mouth and breasts; instantly proving me wrong. Before I could do anything, I was yanked back into his room. An ancient TV played a race with muddy sound while the picture flickered with static. His rotten breath filled my world as the hand clutching my breasts moved to my bulging stomach. “If ya know what's gewd fer ya, you'll let me do what I please and not tell that asshole downstairs,” he hissed. I could only nod, knowing it was best to let this be done and over with so I could escape downstairs.
“If ya tell shithead anythin' 'bout this, I'll cut that child out of your stomach and rape it so its the last thing ya see as ya die,” he threatened and I made a show of acting frightened and submissive. I knew all too well this man would never get to carry out his threats if he did what I was guessing he was going to.
It was only a few minutes, he had only managed to fondle one of my breasts under my shirt before he was going limp as he jizzed in his pants. Then he was shoving me out of the room, giving me a last warning before slamming it shut. I could only stand there with my mouth hanging open before I scampered down the stairs holding my mouth to keep in the laughter. The situation had been as hilarious as it was horrifying and I had to compose myself before continuing down, sure they would think I had finally snapped under all the pressure. Unfortunately, Otis had most definitely noticed my short absence and had come to look for me; finding me on the staircase. I could only imagine the picture I presented to him, my cheeks high with color as I seemed to be stuck between extreme disgust and hilarity.
He closed the small amount of distance rapidly, taking me into his arms as his nose burrowed into my skin. When he pulled away, he had cold murder in his icy eyes. Before I could try to stop him, the killer was going upstairs and I felt my heart plummet into the pit of my stomach. Moving to go down again, I was greeted with the sight of Mama and Baby running to the foot of the stairs with identical concerned expressions on their faces. When they saw me, the younger of the pair moved first; ushering me down as a disgusted grimace crossed her beautiful face. “Dun worry sis. Otis dun take kindly t'those that mess with what's his,” she whispered while her mother watched with confusion in her blue eyes.
“Grandpa's been messin' with our Raven here. Been threatenin' her,” the murderess leading me explained as she steered me to the living room. This caused the normally friendly matron's eyes to go cold as her pink lips thinned. Just then an old man's scream came from upstairs only to be quickly cut off by a slam that shook the entirety of the house.
Instead of looking concerned, the duo only nodded; Baby turning on the TV before Mama left. “She'll be right back. She's havin' R.J. finish what yer lover boy started. Somehow doubt Otis'll be too keen on th'project he had in mind now,” she explained, grimacing as another burst of activity came from the upper floor. I could only laugh in response, a bit surprised by her ridiculous observation. I finally stopped when I noticed the consternation in her expression.
“What? Fuck's sake, its not like its you or Mama we're talking about here. I doubt he'd want to stop a project over something I didn't even get hurt from,” I pointed out, that disquiet from earlier fluttering back to life when her shocked expression became oddly sympathetic.
“Ya don't git it do ya?” whispered the blonde, her brow slightly furrowed as she looked almost sad for me. I tilted my head slightly and opened my mouth to respond when something heavy rolled down the stairs behind us and landed on the floor with a crash.
We both turned to see 'Grandpa' lying there, blood pouring from his crooked nose and sunken in mouth as he lifted his head slowly. His white hair and beard were plastered to his face with sweat as well as blood. His faded eyes rose to look at us for help but we merely turned back to the TV as if what was going on didn't concern us. We could hear him cussing us out is a blood choked voice, faint dragging sounds coming from where he had landed. Then we heard boots stomping down the stairs, followed by the cessation of the dragging noise. “Whatever ya hear, don't look. Otis wouldn't want ya t'see him like this,” the woman beside me advised, her own eyes fixed on the screen in front of us.
Like most people, her statement only made me more curious. I had seen Otis do some horrible things, surely this couldn't be that different. When I heard another loud slam come from far too close, I didn't resist the urge to turn my head. “Some people gotta learn th'hard way,” Baby sighed in a long suffering tone, making no move to stop me. What I saw made everything I thought I knew about the ghoul go flying out the window. His normally cruel visage was twisted into something demonic, his blue eyes dark with outright rage as his upper lip pulled into a snarl. If he had fangs, he would have been snapping them as his right hand wrapped tightly around the older man's neck.
It was obvious by just how tense his wiry arm was that he was bearing down with all his strength, his breath leaving him in heated hisses. The old man's skin spilled from between gaps in his fingers and his face was beginning to turn an alarming purple as he gargled. I don't know what possessed me but I was up and moving toward the pair, ignoring Baby's attempts to catch the back of my shirt. My heart thudded hard as fear dumped into my veins, still my feet moved me towards the possessed killer. Watching my hands raise as if they belonged to someone else, they wrapped around his thin waist as a purr bubbled out of me. As he went stiff beneath me, I came to the realization that some part of me was enjoying the fact he was taking care of a threat to me and our child.
For a few minutes, we stood there; his grip loosening enough to allow Hugo a few shallow breaths as his now dark blue eyes shifted to look at me without turning his head. I met his gaze unflinchingly, feeling just the smallest hint of lust seeing him this out of control. Giving a submissive whimper, I craned myself up to press a kiss to where his jaw met his neck before allowing my gaze to travel to the gasping geriatric. Otis let out a gruff rumble, seeming to accept my presence as his eyes moved back to my tormentor. Then he was lifting the older man into the air by his neck, heading to the basement and detaching himself from me.
I moved to follow when I felt a hand on my wrist stop me. When I turned my head to look, I saw Baby giving me an incredulous glance. “Ya aren't really thinkin' of followin' him after that look he gave ya,” she whispered. I opened my mouth to answer when the ghoul stopped in his tracks and let loose a low rumble that chilled my blood.
“Leave her,” he ground out, not even lookin at us as he simply waited. He didn't have to wait long, the blonde dropping my wrist as if it was made of hot iron the instant he finished speaking.
For a few moments, I stood in place; some part of me wanting to follow while the other was scared and desperately just wanted to go back to watching TV. “Come,” came his voice again, demand clear in his tone and settling the manner. Giving a nod he couldn't see, I skittered forward until I had closed the distance; placing a hand on his upper back to let him know my position. It was only then that he kept moving. Following closely, I hazarded a glance back to see Baby looking like she had just stepped into a world that made no sense. I couldn't really blame her with everything that had happened.
Soon, I found myself led toward the basement; running into Mama on our way by. When she saw the state Otis was in, let alone the fact that I was following him; she got a very nervous expression on her pudgy face. As much as it seemed she wanted to, she said nothing as we continued to the stairs that led downstairs. “Go sit with Tiny,” my deadly companion hissed, taking point in the dim light and continuing toward the cage that held the women the family had collected. Only 'Red's' sister was left of the original group that had come in while I was here. None were left of the previous women. As for the most recent group of cheerleaders, only three were left of the group of five. All of them were beaten, unwashed and underfed, some of their eyes holding no more than the rudimentary awareness an animal would have. Shuddering at the sight, I did as he said as went to the gentle giant sitting at the lone table.
The man towered over me at eight feet tall at least. Such a height was unnatural to humans and it showed in some of the deformities in his body. His skull was misshapen, as were his arms. His skin was also horrendously burned from when his father had tried to burn him alive for being part of a family of 'demons'. Though, after what I had seen, I couldn't really blame Earl for thinking like that. Giving him a smile, I motioned for the notepad around his neck. Smiling at me behind his homemade, leather mask, he lifted the chain over his head. Once normal looking hands had been reduced to flippers due to his skin melting and singeing in the fire. Just seeing them made my heart ache for the pain he must have gone through, all at what had seemed to be the age of twelve according to the movies.
Taking the small pad, I wrote 'How are you feeling today?'; ignoring the groans of pain coming from Hugo as I gave it back. Holding it up to his eyes, he mouthed the words before giving me a grin full of missing teeth. Then he was giving me a thumbs up while nodding vigorously. This was followed by him gesturing to my large belly and clapping lightly, telling me in his own way that he was happy about the coming child. I gave a wide grin in return to show I was just as happy. That was when an idea came to me and I gestured for the notebook. Ignoring the metallic noises and pained whimpers, I began to draw one of the many characters I had made long before I came here. Oddly enough, I chose to draw a lion version I had drawn of Otis when I was really big into 'Lion King'. I had been young but the design had just stuck and I had even started seeing him as the lion when I watched the movies.
When I was done, I slid the doodle over the table; inwardly happy my talent hadn't faded after not being used for so long. Tiny knew immediately who it was and was utterly enchanted, making small noises as he carefully tore it out to hang on his wall. Next thing I knew, he was gesturing from himself to the drawing. Nodding to show him I understood, I pulled the notebook book back toward me and began to draw more. I was so engrossed in what I was doing, that I didn't notice how quiet it had gotten in the spacious room. I had just put the finishing touches on my masterpiece when I became very aware of the sensation of being watched. Blinking, I looked up to see my large companion staring at a point over my shoulder.
Turning around slowly, I saw Otis standing there; staring at what I had drawn. I had drawn a lion version of Tiny, mask and all. As the delighted mute took it, the killer's eyes slowly moved to the one I had drawn of him; the icy orbs shimmering briefly with recognition. Then they were back on me, unreadable as he didn't so much as move a muscle. “Come,” he whispered again, turning to head upstairs. I followed without question, letting him lead me outside and to one of the many sheds around where the family kept several of the cars they had taken from victims.
As we walked, I saw R.J. stuffing a familiar looking body into the trunk of a car. Upon closer inspection, the car belonged to the quartet we had taken last night. The body was one of the cheerleaders from the second batch, the words 'Trick or Treat' cruelly carved onto her side. Then we were going inside and my focus was forced onto something even more horrifying, the upper torso of Bill on a metal gurney; the giant fish he would be sewn to laying behind him. Beside the gurney and tied to a chair was Mary, unconscious with a filthy look rag serving as a gag in her mouth. Motioning me to stay put, Otis stalked forward to give her a kick to the shin and bring her back to awareness.
The poor female snapped awake with a jolt, leaning as far away from the towering monster as her binds would allow. Sneering, the wraith cut her ties before wrestling her into a hold. As I watched, he mimed something that looked like the first project we had ever worked on together. His bony hips ground into the teen's as his hands helped her lift the torso onto the fish half. Mary could only shake her head wildly, shrill screams of negation escaping her as he forced her fingers into the ribcage. Then he was forcing her to sew it together, his skilled hands making it look like Bill had been born that way.
Next he was forcing her to saw off his right arm, making the hysterical teen pick up a withered limb that belonged to someone long dead. It was almost like watching a strange dance, Otis' lanky body melded to hers as they moved in perfect unison. Even the girl's hiccuping and pleas didn't break the surreal spell, not even when the killer forced her to pop her lover's left eye free of the socket and sew the eyelid shut. His final touch was forcing her to glue the eye lower on his cheek before walking backward with the shaking child held tight. A hand held her chin in a hold that had to be painful, forcing Mary to look at what she had done to a man she had loved.
The eighteen year old screamed before vomiting and passing out cold, the monster holding her simply allowing her to drop. Then he was turning on me, his sky blue eyes pinning me to the spot as he slowly stalked forward. Yanking my chin up, his eyes seemed to search mine as he leaned forward to inhale my scent deeply. To say I wasn't scared would be lying by I could sense he wasn't going to hurt me. Letting go to grab my wrist, he pulled me through the yard and back into the house; his expression deadly and unreadable. “At least R.J. got those decorations done. Jest glad they knew better than to touch my main project,” he hissed, taking me upstairs and into our room. As he shut the door, he let go to walk into the 'Prep Room'; leaving me feeling very confused.
When he came back, he had his sketchbook and pencils. Shoving the items at me, he went back into the other room and turned on some music. Feeling more than a little confused, I simply took a guess and began to draw his family as lions; with the obvious exception of Hugo. When that was done, I focused on him; drawing something I hadn't in a couple years at least. When I became an animator, I had left a lot of my childhood characters behind; especially the ones based on copyright characters. I found myself drawing him doing many of the things I had seen him doing and even some I hadn't but could see him doing. I was so engrossed that I feel asleep mid-doodle, never seeing him come in but feeling him pull the book out from under my body and hearing pages flip as I slipped further into unconsciousness.
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