Adult-FanFiction.org : Movies

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
- 15
- 16
- 17
WARNING!!: Skinning of Someone Alive! Psychological Torture! Gore! More Extreme Parts Marked With **

Author's Note: More unpleasantness ahead and some more slight changes in events. The movie couldn't have gotten everything spot on and I heard there was an uncut version of the original movie that was lost.

Chapter Sixteen: F.U.B.A.R.

It was later the same night that I was awoken by Otis pulling me to my feet and dressing me, reminding me of the days I had first come here. Instead of fighting, I simply let the ghoul do as he pleased; blinking when I found myself in a rather form fitting, red dress. It even complimented my pregnant dome, a feat in and of itself. Then he was yanking me behind him, leading down the hall towards the wall at the end instead of the stairs. Still a bit dazed, I just looked around for a few minutes to see the dimness of the light around me. “What time is it?” I whispered, not knowing why I was trying to stay quiet but finding it felt right.
“Goin' on six at night. We got some more work t'do but ya wouldn't wake up fer anythin'. Decided t'jest let ya be. Ya missed th'excitement earlier. We had a visitor in th'form of one of th'slut's fathers. Turns out he used t'be part of a police force and we all know those damn pigs always travel in packs. It'll only be a matter of time afore a few of his friends come sniffin' around here fer his ass and his daughter,” the killer sneered, his words waking me up like a splash of ice water over my body.
“Was there anyone else with him?” was the first thing out of my mouth as fear and apprehension began to fill me.
“He was alone but that sure as shit doesn't mean he didn't call his old buddies,” my dangerous companion replied, turning to look at me at he reached up for a door in the ceiling.
Giving a hard yank to a handle, he pulled until the door to the attic slid down; the attached ladder sliding downward ever so slightly. There was a faint light up there as well as masculine groaning, yet none of this chilled me as much as what he told me had. Denise's father hadn't come here alone in the movie. He had called the station that was in the city a half hour away from the house and had gotten two men to come along with him. That was when I became aware of a strange, almost electric energy in the air; Mama cackling joyfully downstairs as a woman sobbed pitifully. It was the night of the sacrifice and everything was going so right while still going very wrong. “He wasn't supposed to be alone,” I replied, vaguely aware of our child rolling inside me due to my distress.
Otis froze, instant comprehension shining in his blue eyes. Then he was turning to grab my shoulders in a painful grip, glaring down at me as his nostrils flared. “How many were with him originally?” he rasped, not even questioning what I was talking about.
“T-two more, a sergeant and his partner. Also, they were supposed to be here in the afternoon. What time did he show up?” I asked, urgency and fear fighting for dominance inside me as I met his furious gaze steadily.
“He came knocking on our door near sunset. Wanted to know if'n his daughter and her friends had driven through on their way to their next destination. Mama invited him inside and I took care of it,” he replied, almost seeming a bit scared himself.
For a few moments, we stared at eachother in silence as we tried to figure out what this meant. Then he was grabbing my wrist to yank me up into the attic, a grim expression on his grizzled face. As soon as we walked into the room, a gaunt, kind looking, elderly man looked up at us; his eyes going wide as they landed on me. His adam's apple worked as he swallowed around the grungy, cloth gag in his mouth. Just seeing his confusion made a furious grin curl Otis' lips instead of the building anxiety. Wrapping a muscled arm around my waist, he pulled me with him as he closed the distance to our victim. “Good evenin'. I know yer wonderin' what happened t'yer daughter but don't worry, you'll find out soon,” purred the monster as he left my side to go back downstairs.
This left me alone with Don, a man who loved his daughter. Just thinking about what should have happened made my heart twist for what could happen right now. In the movie, this guy had been shot in the back and his dead body had been skinned as a strange sort of costume for the ghoul that had just left. The retired officer was alive, alive and staring at the ball-like dome of my belly. Sighing, I bent down as best as I could to stare into his eyes. “I get the sense you want to chat. If I remove this gag and you scream, I won't hesitate to make sure you regret it,” I hissed, forcing every drop of anger in my body into those words. Unfortunately I sounded more sorry than forceful and his eyes almost gained a sympathetic light as he nodded. He likely thought I was one of the victims doing what I could to stay alive. That I was being forced into all of this.
Maybe it would be easier for him to make assumptions at the moment. He would change his mind as soon as he saw how his tormentor acted around me. As much as others would probably scoff at it, I was fairly certain Otis loved me in his own way. He had even stopped hurting me as often, a huge improvement in my opinion. Reaching forward, I removed the cloth strip from his mouth. “A-are you… I mean, have you…,” he stammered, his voice slightly raspy from lack of water as his dry tongue unconsciously moved to lick his cracked lips. Some part of me wished I could give him water and I sighed as I made a guess about what he meant.
“I'm not sure you really want the answers to those. Still, I'm sure you can tell by the way I'm talking that I'm not a normal victim. Nor am I a 'normal' killer,” I explained, straightening when I heard footsteps along with a dragging sound and female pleading.
“That… that sounds like Denise,” gasped the much older man as he struggled against the ropes binding him to a chair.
“Knowing Otis, it probably is,” I sighed, brushing a strand of my black hair behind an ear as I watched the head of my lover appear in the hole in the floor that lead down.
“Sounds like ya already took that thing outta his mouth. Find out anythin' good?” growled the monster as he started to come up the ladder. Just below his chin, I could only see the top of a brunette head.
“Denise?!” Don gasped, straining even harder against the thick rope holding him.
“Dad?!” came a hysterical response, a surge of movement making the wraith grunt as he tightened his hold on the struggling teen. Climbing the rest of the way into the attic, he revealed a sobbing woman who looked a lot like Mary. Then he was letting her go, watching as she rushed to her father and began to check him over for injury, seeming to temporarily forget just what her situation was.
While this went on, I felt a presence behind my back as hands settled on my growing belly. “Go on over there and hand me th'things I ask fer. I want our lil bitch here to experience what real family bondin' is,” hissed a raspy mid-tone as the thin male walked around to grab the sobbing eighteen year old into a tight hold. She let out an impressive shriek, her dad looking to me with fear filled, pleading eyes.
“Please, please! You aren't like them! I can see some shred of humanity in you and you find as much distaste in this as anyone else would,” came a plea I was becoming increasingly familiar with.
“I'm more like them than you'd think. I've seen things, done things that most people would faint from the mere thought of. If you think your words or tears will stop any of this from happening, you're sadly mistaken. Not only would my life be forfeit but I don't want to. Stopping this would probably mean having to fight the entire family and neither of you are worth that,” I replied quietly, moving over to a metal table that had been set up near Don. On said table, there was an array of knives laid out on a rough strip of fabric.
“Is this the kind of life you want to bring your child into?! Christ! Do what's right here! Bash him on the back of the head and knock him out! Do something! Once I get free, you can team up with me and my daughter and we can all get out of here,” snarled the retired officer as Otis let out a chilling bark of laughter while the teen continued to sob hysterically.
His words gave me pause and I closed my eyes as I gripped the metal sides of the small platform the weapons were on. He had a good point, this really wasn't the type of environment fit for a child. There was also Otis. How well would he treat a child? How long would it take before he killed them simply because he had run out of patience? Then again, he had far more control with those he considered family than he did with the unfortunate victims. While the child would no doubt end up as twisted as the rest of them, it would at least have a family that cared for it. “No. Are you deaf as well as stupid? This is my family too and I won't let anyone hurt them, not even myself,” I whispered, allowing my hands to run over the implements absently. As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew they were more true than I had expected.
“Toss over th'skinnin' knife,” hissed the wraith from his position, the implications making nausea surge up inside me.
Due to watching my father dress many a wild animal, I knew exactly what he meant. My hand automatically went to a thin, sharp blade with a curled tip. In one motion, I turned and tossed the implement at the same time; watching as he caught it while using one arm to keep hold of Denise. After a short scuffle, he had the sobbing girl positioned in front of him and had forced the blade into her right hand with his. Not wanting to watch but unable to stop, my eyes followed as he pushed her forward. The bound man looked from me to my horrible lover, a hate filled look coming onto his wrinkled visage. Then the wraith restraining his daughter forced her to begin cutting along his jawbone.
**Blood flowed instantly, dribbling down his slightly saggy skin as he made a sound of pain. “I'm sorry daddy! I don't mean to! H-he's making me, oh God please stop,” she begged, actually backing into her captor in her desperation to get away. This only made my twisted lover laugh louder as he continued to force the blade along the other man's jawline. By the time he was finished, there was a bleeding outline around the edge of the elderly man's face. Knowing what was going to come next, I forced myself to observe; well aware of the killer's pale eyes on me. Giving me a grin that chilled my blood, the beast forced the child to insert the curved tip of the knife he was forcing her to hold into the cut on his left cheek.
While the eighteen year old continued to sob, becoming more and more hysterical; Otis skillfully moved her hand so the delicate blade would separate the skin from the muscle. Don, of course, let out a scream of pain as his face was slowly, agonizingly removed from his skull. He was conscious for the entire ordeal, feeling his nerves and blood vessels separating from the muscle. Not to mention the noises that came from the action. It was like a strange squelching noise, then a wet tearing as the next section came free. In moments, he pulled the man's face off with his daughter's hands; red strings of blood following the floppy bit of flesh.
There was something horribly surreal about watching bloody tissue tense and move as the still conscious man screamed. His teeth and eyes were almost an unnatural white against the mass of reds, the skin below only drawing attention to the fact his face was missing. The girl was dry heaving uncontrollably as the beast holding her continued to laugh, making her draw the knife in a line down the neck. The retired officer could only strain against the ropes as he vocalized his agony as he was skinned alive. All at once it was too much and I was vomiting onto the floor, the splashing noise seeming to halt what was going on.**
Despite proving he wouldn't hurt me unless I did something to well and truly piss him off, I felt fear spike inside me as I dimly heard him summon me to him. Wiping the last of the puke on my lips onto the back of my hand, I nodded before skirting around the puddle I had made. “I'll clean it up,” I offered in a voice so quiet that I wasn't entirely sure he heard me over Denise and her father.
“Go on and git th'supplies,” Otis husked out, his tone strangely soft despite the fury written all over his pale visage. I only nodded as I didn't know just how angry he was with me for my continued squeamishness.
**As I moved to the hatch that lead down, I heard him call my name again and turned to look at him instantly. While still glowering, there was just the faintest bit of worry in his blue eyes. It was so faint, I had to wonder if it was wishful thinking on my part. Then his frown eased ever so slightly, just enough to let me know he was trying convey something without words. Giving him a small smile, I went down the rickety steps as my stomach continued to flip like it was caught in a washing machine. I barely made it to the bathroom before I was blowing chunks again, the image of the strings of gooey blood connecting the almost transparent flesh of the face to the muscle it had been pried from.**
Over and over, I heaved; the sounds and images swirling around my head until I felt quite dizzy. Shaking from over exertion and stress, I leaned my sweaty forehead against the cool bowl of the toilet and sobbed as quietly as I could; my stomach still cramping. A hand on my upper back nearly made me fly to the ceiling and I spun to see Baby looking at me with concern written all over her young face. “W-would you go get some stuff to clean vomit off a hardwood floor and bring it up to the attic? I made a bit of a mess,” I whispered, smiling weakly as my pregnant body continued to shake almost violently.
“Yer not a killer are ya… Ya never were and never wanted t'be. Yet yer puttin' yerself through alla this… Wai?” whispered the blonde, her brow crinkling in confusion and slight fear.
I opened my mouth, only to be struck by a fresh wave of memories and winding up with my head in the toilet. I was vaguely aware of Baby pulling my hair back for me and felt grateful for her presence. “A-ask Otis. He knows exactly what's going on. Well, most of it…,” I murmured, shuddering as I tried and failed to shake the images out of my head. Unfortunately, another scream of agony came from upstairs; bringing with it a violent wave of dry heaving due to the fact I was too aware of what was happening above us.
“I ain't leavin' ya like this but Otis'll wonder where ya went. Hang on big sister… Jest ya hang on a moment,” came an assurance before I heard footsteps heading toward the door. Turning my head slightly, I saw the murderess in the doorway with her head poking around the door-frame.
“Mama? Would ya bring a mop up to th'attic fer me? I gotta help Raven with somethin',” she called, her voice echoing in the long corridor.
Within moments, I heard the footsteps of a heavier set person; the matriarch of the clan appearing in the open entry. Her concerned eyes moved from Baby to me before she pursed her pink lips and nodded, heading upstairs to do as she had been asked. Whirling to face me, the younger woman turned to give me a very gentle smile. “Try to think of anythin' else. Ya ever see a movie called 'Cujo'?” she asked, making me smile despite the misery I felt. Thankfully the child I carried stayed still and didn't add to the pile by kicking at an inopportune moment.
“Stephen King is one of my favorite authors. That movie was one of the better ones based on his work,” I replied, wiping my clammy forehead as I got to my unsteady legs. It almost felt like trying to stand on water and if it hadn't been for Baby, I would have fallen flat on my face.
“Easy,” she hissed, steadying me and steering me to the sink.
Once close enough, I grabbed the sides in a tight grip and braced. The blonde next to me turned on the faucet and I scooped the cold water into my mouth while keeping a tight hold on the sink with my left hand. “Another good one is Carrie,” I whispered, taking slow breaths in an effort to calm my heart rate.
“Yeah that one was great! Another favorite of mine is 'Rocky Horror Picture Show',” Baby replied brightly, rubbing my back before helping me walk out of the bathroom.
When I started to head to the stairs that lead back up to the attic, I was stopped by a sharp tug on my arm. As I turned to look at the other woman, she was looking both apologetic and firm. “I cain't let ya go back up there. We're gonna go on ahead downstairs and try t'git ya calmed down,” she declared before pulling me the opposite way down the hall. I could only comply, silently agreeing with her. If I went back up there, I would only wind up much more sick and have a lot more unpleasant images to dwell on. There was also the very real possibility that the stress would bring on premature labor, something that neither me or my unborn child would survive.
After a few moments of walking in silence, Baby gave my hand a light yank to draw my attention. When I looked over to her, she looked almost apprehensive as her cerulean eyes moved over me. “Yer not like us at all but ya also haven't tried to betray us. I jest cain't figure why ya'll would be helpin' mai brother, let alone us,” she whispered, consternation furrowing her brow as we reached the top of the stairs.
“Are ya really jest figurin' out she ain't like us?” came a thickly southern accented, female voice from behind us, nearly making us jump to the rafters. Whirling in unison, we saw Mama giving us both a small smile.
“I knew from the moment she stepped into th'house she didn't have th'same taste fer blood as th'rest of us. I have no doubt Otis knew too and wanted t'find out jest what on Earth ya were up ta,” explained the matriarch, motioning for us to continue toward the stairs. As we moved, I found myself running over what she had said in my head.
In all honesty, I didn't pose much of a threat to the family. I had no experience with weapons, I was slightly overweight and I was on the short side. It made more sense for them to assess me due to my odd behavior on my arrival. It certainly helped that I had been extremely obedient and meek since day one. Yet, I had no doubt in my mind that it would have only taken one small screw up in the early days to land me in the basement with the rest. While they were curious, they weren't stupid. As we reached the foot of the stairs, I found myself honestly surprised I had built as much trust as I had in the months I had lived with them. “I don't mean any harm to any of you,” I whispered, allowing them to lead me into the living room and sit me on the couch.
“I know darlin', don't ya worry yer lil head 'bout any of that. Jest ya sit here and try t'relax. I'll go git some of my tea fer ya,” fluttered the older woman before she moved out of the room and toward the kitchen.
As soon as she was gone, Baby was staring at me with new eyes. There was now heavy suspicion and fear in her gaze and I felt my own terror begin to well within me. Of all the people in the family I didn't want to make enemies with, she was certainly one of them. Otis held her her opinion in high regard due to their intimate relationship and the others simply adored her due to being the literal baby of the family. If she decided to hate me, there would be nothing that could protect me from her. Not even the psychopath in the attic. While he may have a certain amount of affection for me, I knew better than to think that would extend to him harming her to protect me. So, when she leaned down until our noses touched, I simply sat there and met her eyes. “I know this is hard for you to believe, but I would never hurt anyone here. Not even Hugo. I've had more than enough opportunity to call for help or kill Otis in his sleep and I haven't. Isn't that enough to prove my intentions to you?” I sighed, feeling weary and wanting to just crawl under a rock to end my misery.
Pursing her lips, the younger female considered my words carefully. Then she was nodding and taking a seat beside me, wrapping a loose arm around me until her hand rested on the crest of my baby belly. “Yer right but… There are jest so many questions,” she whispered, her head coming to rest on my left shoulder.
“Ask Otis, like I said before. I told him most of why I'm here,” I replied, feeling a pang of sympathy for her as the fear faded.
“Why not tell me yerself?” she asked, a slight hint of suspicion in her voice.
“Because I doubt you'd believe me. If there's anyone you will believe, no matter how crazy what they're telling you is, its your brother,” I responded, watching a black and white movie play out on their ancient television.
“You stop fussin' at her Baby and do as she sez. Otis already tol' me about it while I was up there. Speakin' of Otis, yew should go on up anyway. He'll be wonderin' where Raven is and we dun want him to git into a temper t'night,” Mama admonished as she came into the room, giving her youngest a stern look that sent her skittering to do as was asked of her.
Once she was gone, the heavier female sat on my right and offered me a mug of steaming tea. “Its the same mix I gave ya fer yer mornin' sickness hunny. Sip it slowly. We dun wanna git ya started agin,” she whispered soothingly, rubbing my back as I blew on the hot liquid. When it was cool enough, I took a sip; sighing relief when my lingering nausea instantly abated.
“Are ya gonna be okay fer th'rest of th'night?” she asked, making me wonder what she meant. Then I remembered and had to take several deep breaths to keep from dry heaving.
“I have to be. I have to be here for what's going to happen. I have to make sure there aren't any more discrepancies,” I muttered, taking another sip to soothe the fresh wave. The woman beside me nodded slowly, her pink lips pursed as she fiddled with the white gown she wore.
“I ain't gonna pretend I understand everything I was told but I am grateful for ya tryin' ta look out fer us,” she whispered, pulling me so I was leaning against her. Painted lips caressed my forehead and I was struck with a very powerful cramp of homesickness.
Although this killer had treated me as nothing less than her own, she would never be my actual mother. My mother was in another dimension, thinking I was dead and unaware of her coming grandchild. Thankfully thundering footsteps that sounded like a herd of elephants approaching distracted me from my thoughts before they could get much further. Looking up, I saw my violent companion barreling down the stairs at a fast clip; his jaw tense as he kept his eyes on me. Before he could get too close, Mama did something that shocked me and Baby, who had been following her 'sibling' as best as she could. She placed herself between him and the couch, spreading her arms out wide. “She ain't goin' back up there Otis. Ya'll jest finish what yer doin'. Me an' Baby c'n take care of th'others while she recovers,” she commanded, her voice holding more authority than I had ever heard from her.
The wraith was just as shocked, his glare disappearing briefly for raised eyebrows. Then his glower slammed back into place, his icy orbs shifting over her shoulder to lock on me. “Fine. But she's still gonna fuckin' participate,” he snarled, spinning on his heel to stomp back up the stairs; shoving past Baby on his way. As soon as he was gone, all the wind went out of Mama's sails and she gave me a rather incredulous look, as if wondering if she had really done that. Shaking herself she walked up the stairs as well, grabbing her stunned daughter to drag her up too. I could only sit there, my stomach churning as I thought about what was coming next. From what I knew, this night was only getting started.
- 15
- 16
- 17
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Dangerous