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
- 18
- 19
- 20
WARNING!!: Graphic Torture of a Geriatric! Conscious Castration! Forcing Someone to Eat Own Genitalia! Extreme Gore and Graphic Imagery! More Extreme Parts Marked With **

Author's Note: Karmic retribution, Otis style. Or, what happens if you happen to fuck with something he considers his. This chapter is not for the faint of heart. (Not that any of this is, really…)

Chapter Nineteen: Revenge Before Company

I had no idea what hour it was by the time Otis got everything set up. All I knew is it was half past way too late for a six and a half month pregnant woman to be awake. Fighting against the very dangerous urge to yawn; I sat where he had left me at the dining room table, grateful for the company of Mama and Baby. I had been sent up soon after Otis had asked his strange question and what had followed could only be described as awful. I heard Hugo beg and plead with the wraith as he was dragged upstairs, very happy for the fact I couldn't see him from the position the killer had insisted I be in. The worst part had been when he begged Mama and Baby to save him from the madman, pointing out the fact that he was blood while we weren't.
For just a few moments, I had been petrified that they would see his point. That the two women would join with the old man in some misguided rebellion. He was technically right, neither of them were blood like he was. There was no reason for any of them to be loyal to either of us. I was pleasantly surprised when I heard someone spit at him as well as a loud slap. “They may not be blood but they're fam'ly. While I ain't a fan of us killin' eachother, we cain't have ya tryin' t'hurt Raven or thet child of hers,” came the deeply accented voice of Mama, a bit of her Texas twang clinging to her tone.
This had been followed by sputtering from the old man as well as derisive laughter from Otis. “Y'see y'old bitch hog? They value me more'n they ever did you. Do ya wanna know why?” came the venomous hiss of my deadly lover.
“Cause they know I'll protect them when it comes down to it. I don't think they c'n say th'same fer you,” he continued before I heard boots stomping to the door that led to the side yard.
Hours had passed since then and I had long given up feeling apprehensive about what was to come. I was far too exhausted for that. Instead, I found myself fighting to stay awake while the two Firefly women talked animatedly. I had to wonder what time it was but I didn't dare ask. Besides, I had doubts they knew any better than I did. Since I had come here, I hadn't seen a clock or even a watch around someone's wrist. It was only when Otis came banging in through the door that I snapped out of the semi stupor I had fallen into, the forming child inside me rolling slightly in protest.
Even the chattering around me had gone silent as I looked up at the beast who had made his way to the table I was seated at. Before he could order anything, I was gingerly getting to my feet; my pronounced stomach making it difficult to maneuver. Then I was giving him my hand, grimacing slightly at how cold his skin was. It must be close to freezing out there, making a small ripple of disquiet go through me. I remembered hearing somewhere that it was bad for pregnant women to experience extremes in temperature. Still, I knew better than to say anything and simply allowed him to yank me into the kitchen; a bit shocked when he released me long enough to shove a winter coat into my arms.
As I put on the thick jacket, I noticed disquieting eagerness in the killer's sky blues eyes and I felt my skin crawl just thinking about what he had in mind. For someone like him to look excited about anything, well it couldn't bode well. Shuddering slightly, I zipped the coat before opening the door I knew we would be using; preceding him into the yard. I only got a few steps before I noticed he wasn't following and turned to see if I had done something wrong. All I saw was Otis, his head cocked to the side like a curious dog; his pale brow crinkled as he pursed his lips. It looked like he was trying to figure something out and I felt the slightest bit of confusion. While I wasn't eager for what was going to happen, there was no point in trying to fight it. Then it dawned upon me that I was taking an initiative, I was showing I was doing this of my own will by going first and the implication certainly hadn't been lost on the pale beast.
Then he was moving, a strange expression on his grizzled face as he casually gestured for me to continue onward. Taking a deep breath, I gave a nod as I turned to do so; my heart thudding in my ears as it felt I was making an irreversible decision. Something that would change my life forever. Something that would change how Otis saw me as well as how I saw myself. I was heading toward the large barn that served as a garage under my own power, the man behind me not having to drag me along at all. While it may not seem significant to many, it certainly was to us; giving the air a heavy feeling as we closed the distance. Everything from here would be under my control alone. I would be the one to decide what to do to Hugo and how to do it. I would be the one to decide how much pain to level on the elderly male.
Suppressing a shudder, I swung open the rotting, wooden door that lead into the dilapidated building. The air inside was musty with the smell of ancient hay and old horse, grease barely covering the faint scent of dung and urine. In the stalls were hulks of broken cars and trucks, no doubt stolen from the family's many victims. Hay still littered the floor and I found my eyes traveling to the far back of the barn, dread settling deep into my bones when I saw 'Grandpa' chained up to the wall. The old pervert looked like he had been worked over pretty good, bruises as well as bleeding cuts covering his wrinkled visage. Groaning, the barely conscious man lolled his head so his white hair hung in his face; not even aware of the fact that we were there.
Even with all of the shit he pulled on me, I couldn't help but feel the smallest bit of sympathy for the man. After all, I had effectively yanked the rug out from under him. In all his years with the family, he would have never expected someone like me to come along and fuck things up for him. He certainly couldn't have predicted Otis' reaction to me, not even I could have predicted that. Using me for sex, making me participate in kills sure but to actually kill family for me; it implied something that scared the shit out of me. If I was anywhere near the mark with my assumption, I was in deeper trouble than I could imagine. I couldn't even bring myself to think the words in association with the unpredictable man, shoving away the suspicion that tickled in the back of my brain. Not only was it not worth it to think about but it was downright hazardous to my health.
Instead, I moved toward my would be victim; feeling faintly nauseous as I took in just what my twisted lover had set up for me. There were several surgical tables set up with various means of torture, some of them making me wince just looking at them. All of them were in varying states of rusting but extremely sharp, making everything inside me rebel at the though of using them. Still, I knew I had no choice and it would be extremely foolish of me to let Otis down. So I cleared my mind and forced myself to look at this like one of my art projects. After a few moments, something clicked and I felt my hand reaching to a rather dull looking knife. It was sharp enough for my purposes but not so sharp that it would end too fast.
Fading somewhere to the back of my head, I watched my other hand reach forward to touch the patriarch's flaccid, comically small dick. The foreskin was longer than the appendage itself, hanging down to create an obscene mouth. His balls were no better, almost dangling to his knees and covered in scraggly, white pubes. Just touching it made my skin crawl but I felt a strange grin twitch the corner of my lips as I fondled the saggy manhood. Dimly aware of eyes watching me, I ran the flat of the blade I had picked along his soft shaft; feeling a faint thrill pulse through my blood at what I was about to do.
Just as his eyes started to flutter, I gave his sensitive manhood a sharp rap with the flat of the blade to bring him around. Some vindictive part of me wanted him to be awake, to see what I was doing to him. Some part of me was already relishing the expression he would have, feeling like he deserved it for what he had tried to do to me and my unborn child. Buried deep inside my own head, I could only watch myself with a vague sense of horror. I had only disconnected like this once before and I certainly hadn't liked what that part of me had shown. As I felt the dark glee and alien bloodlust flow through me, I knew this was going to be much worse. The buried beast all humans seem to have wanted its pound of flesh for what this man had tried to do and would take great pleasure in exacting that right.
As Hugo's faded eyes opened to meet mine, I felt a cruel smile twist my lips as anticipation sang in my veins. Then I was flipping the knife so the sharp side was against his flesh, feeling a terrible happiness when comprehension crossed his wrinkled face. Instead of begging or pleading, the elderly patriarch sneered at me; his white hair hanging in his grizzled, saggy visage. “Ya ain't got the cojones t'do it girly. It's a wonder lover boy there put up wi' ya as long as he did,” hissed the geriatric, his taunting words only serving to fuel the flames simmering inside me. Feeling an evil smile on my face, I watched as my hand cut the top of his limp member shallowly; just enough to draw blood but not enough to cause any real pain. The look of surprised horror that crossed his face was almost enough to make me agree with the darker entity that was currently in charge of my body, almost.
“You'd be surprised what I can do when given the 'proper motivation',” whispered the horrible thing using my body and voice, a side of myself I wish I had never discovered. Then I could feel myself bearing down slightly on the blade, blood welling up around the weapon as an agonized hiss rattled up from his chest.
**Feeling a detached glee, I began to saw slowly; the feeling of his blood pouring onto my hand only adding to the deranged joy I felt. As separated as I had made myself from what was going on, I could still feel the emotions as if they were my own. Looking down, I watched the knife slide past the first layer of flesh and fat. It was only then that the old pervert began to scream, making me feel a grudging respect for the foul man. “It'll be over before you know it,” came out of me in a sickeningly sweet coo, a witch's cackle soon following as I lifted the hand holding his member to lick some of the blood off the skin.
Increasing the pressure on the handle, I sawed slowly downward; drinking in his screams of pain while being horrified by them at the same time. It felt strange to be so divided with myself, watching my actions like some horror movie from a recess in the back of my conscious mind. Pulling away his penis as I sliced, I observed the layers of skin, fat and muscle that made up the organ. The more ghoulish part of me that was in charge found it beautiful while I could only feel a deep disgust that I could think like that in the first place. When the screams started to fade, I would give a harsh yank to wake him up again; the monster moving my body wanting him to see all of it happen.
The coppery smell of blood filled my mouth and nose as I pulled the flopping dick off his body with a final squelching sound. From the hidey hole in the back of my mind I watched as my hands raised the appendage like some horrifying trophy, the twisted part of me in charge admiring the blood coated muscle work. There was only a bloody hole where it had been on his body, Hugo screaming like a stuck pig as his face began to turn an interesting puce color. Aware of a strange noise bubbling out of my chest, I watched as my body reached up to force his dangling testicles against his lips. “Give em a kiss beautiful,” whispered a voice that sounded and felt like mine but sounded more like Otis in content.
Movement to my right drew me slightly out of my shell, just enough to drive it home that it was really me that was doing these actions and not some demon that had taken possession of my body. Turning my head as I became all too aware of the substance coating my left hand, I saw my psychopathic lover watching my every move; an expression akin to pride on his bone white visage. Licking my lips and shuddering at what I knew was originally going to happen, I could only continue without the safety buffer of my safe spot in my mind. Returning my focus to a still screaming Hugo, I grimaced slightly before chopping off the tip of the body part and stuffing it into his mouth. Then I placed my hand over the orifice to make sure he couldn't spit it out, waiting until I saw him swallow to remove the appendage.
This continued until I had fed him his own penis piece by bloody piece, unable to retreat back into my own head due to the fact I was aware of Otis watching me. I heard every gag the old man let out, every worthless plea for the beast next to me to not let me do this. The dark part of me rose up just enough to force a cruel laugh out of me as I pushed the last piece of his wrinkled, hairy scrotum into the old man's mouth. When I saw his throat working and heard him begin to make an ugly 'gurking' sound, I shot my arm forward with ungodly speed to rest my sharp knife against his saggy throat. “You even think about puking, I will cut your throat before you can blink,” hissed a voice that I knew was mine but felt alien coming from my throat.**
The look of sheer hate 'grandpa' gave me would have made a normal person shake in their boots. Instead a crazy person's laugh bubbled out of me as I patted his sunken in, gray cheek with the flat of my weapon. Then I was turning my back and leaving at a leisurely pace, having had more than enough bloodshed for one day. “Aren't ya even gonna finish th'job ya cowardly bitch!” screamed a much higher pitched voice from behind me, making me come close to laughing despite the deep amount of violation I felt.
“You're not worth my time,” came out of me mechanically as I kept walking, not even looking at him as I made my way out the huge, open entry. I only stopped when I was out in the yard itself, beginning to shake as the enormity of what I had done began to hit me.
It had really been my hands, my voice, my emotions. The implications rocked me to my very core and I found myself looking at my blood coated left hand as disgust and horror swirled around inside me. Behind me, I could hear the faint screams of my victim cursing my name and demanding I finish him off. Yet my eyes never moved from the crimson fluid seeping into the lines of my palm, not even when I felt hands on my shoulders and hard nips along the base of my neck. Just what was I becoming? Would I eventually lose the part of me that felt guilt and sympathy altogether? Would that darker part that dwelled inside me gradually become what I was? Just thinking about it nearly caused a full body shudder.
As if sensing the change, the beast behind me made a disappointed noise before pulling away from me. I didn't even have to look at him to know the expression he had on his face. He no doubt looked disappointed as well as more enraged than usual, probably much preferring the more merciless part of me to my normal self. With the way things were looking, he would get what he wanted sooner or later. “Git inside. Ya look dead on yer feet,” came a gruff order from my lover before the sound of footsteps moved back toward the barn. Not wanting to hear what he would do to the old man, I scampered inside as fast as my feet could carry me; not stopping until I had locked myself in the room I shared with the murderer.
As soon as I was alone, the proverbial other shoe dropped and I felt myself disconnect from reality; a strange, floating sensation almost akin to an out of body experience. Most Psychologists refer to phenomenon as Dissociation and it feels extremely surreal. Once again, it felt like I was looking at some alien being controlling my limbs; the darkness inside me surging to take over where I had left off. If I had wanted, it would have been easy to let myself fade; to let this budding insanity have me. The only thing that kept me from doing so was the feeling of my unborn child kicking for a brief moment. Just that briefest of sensations was enough to slam me back into my body as my arms wrapped around my large dome of a stomach, tears streaming silently down my pale face.
Despite not really wanting to face my current reality, I couldn't allow this innocent to become a casualty. Heaven only knew what the witch hiding inside me would do to the child once it was born or even before. While this horrible blackness was part of me, I had no real idea just what it was capable of without me there to balance the roaring insanity. Whispering apologies to my growing baby, I forced myself to swallow my fear and disgust; flinching when I heard a scream rip the quiet of the night apart. Not wanting to think about what had just happened, I forced myself to unlock the door before laying in the sunken, filthy mattress I shared with Otis and trying to get some sleep. With any hope, my brain would bury all the revelations I had about myself tonight very deeply.
Unfortunately, it seemed sleep and I were destined to only have the most fleeting of affairs that late night. It had been so peaceful and warm, I had only been out for what felt like a handful of hours when I heard a verbal explosion come from downstairs. Sitting up before I had even woken up fully, I blinked blindly for a few moments as I waited for my vision to clear. Due to only just waking up, the yelling from the ground floor sounded like cacophony of unintelligible noise. Eventually, I was able to make out at least three male voices; one sounding almost amused while the other two were screaming at eachother. After a few more minutes, I was even able to discern at least two of the three voices and it was mostly due to their eerie similarities.
The deeper, more harsh voice was Otis' while the lighter, more accented voice belonged to 'Choptop'. As soon as that clicked, all my sleepiness fled as the cold chill of terror began to trickle over my body. Otto must have made a surprise appearance while the family was asleep. On top of that, it sounded like he had decided to defy his cousin and bring a certain member of the Drayton family. Just thinking about the damage the psychopath could do almost tempted me to lock the door again, almost. As you may have found out by now, Mr. Driftwood isn't the most patient or understanding person. If I locked him out of his own room, I had a feeling it would be like starting the apocalypse singlehandedly. Still, that didn't make me feel any more confident about my safety at the moment.
If Choptop were to distract my violent lover, it would be far too easy for Otto to sneak up here and stumble across me. With how little the family corresponded with people outside their immediate circle, I somehow doubted Otis had told his cousin about me. If that was the case, there was every chance I would be called downstairs so the wraith could demonstrate who I belonged to. While that probably sounds barbaric to most, its just the way a world like his worked. When you lived around murderers, you had to stand your own ground to ensure those you cared for wouldn't get hurt or worse. You had to make damn sure no one would mess with you. The stakes were, of course, raised whenever you brought someone in. Trust between you and your group has to be extremely strong to do so and you had to make sure you wouldn't have to see to their safety 24/7.
Even with that in mind, I was in no rush to go down until I had been summoned. I had no real idea if Otis would even want me near the pair at the moment. From the sounds of it, a pecking order of sorts was still being established on top of the ghoul being absolutely furious with his relative. Otto had seriously breached etiquette by bringing Choppy with him against direct orders. It had been a test of boundaries and I found myself bearing verbal witness to a territorial dispute because of it. All I could do was wait until the whole thing blew over or I was called down. Swinging my legs over the side of the decaying bed, I shut my eyes and tried to listen to what was happening so I would be better armed when I eventually came across the mysterious cousin. “Ya need t'git this fuckin' whore son to leave ma property or I won't be responsible fer my actions,” drifted up the furious voice of my twisted artist.
“Aw, ya never were any fun Tissy. What harm could he possibly do? Ya know dern well he's submissive to me,” cooed a much smoother sounding baritone, the Texas twang clinging to his voice more relaxed and almost lazy.
“Th'fuck I am nancy boi! I came here t'see if Caspar here has killed his squeeze yet,” snarled a slightly higher voice than Otis' but still sounding almost exactly like his and making me shudder all over.
“Th'fuck ya jest call me,” bristled the mid-tone of the wraith I lived with before the sound of scuffling came from the main floor.
I could only wince when I heard something break, followed by shouts from Mama and Baby. Unfortunately, the fighting continued; followed by the sound of furniture being slammed into. That was when I became aware of the sound of soft footsteps coming down the hall. The person was trying to stay silent but I was still able to pick up the subtle creaks their footfalls made on the hardwood floor. Heart leaping into my throat, I sprinted toward the door in what felt like slow motion as the steps grew steadily closer. They were still a ways down the hall when I turned the lock on the knob, stepping back as I took deep breaths to slow my racing heart. Within moments, the doorknob jiggled gently before a rhythmic knock sounded on the wood of the door. “Little pig, little pig, let me come in,” whispered the soft, slightly raspy voice of Choptop.
Instant nausea washed over me and I found myself with my back pressed against a far wall without any knowledge of how I had gotten there. My hands spread like stars on the dry wall behind me as my eyes widened with unreasoning terror. I had a fleeting thought that if I kept quiet he would go away, despite logically knowing better. So I wasn't too shocked when the sound of fingertips tapping on the closed entry came next. “I know yer in there. Heh, I c'n smell ya. Smells like a tuna fish wrasslin' inna swamp,” cooed the crazed voice before a gale of sickening laughter issued through the separating wood. Then the sound of something scrapping down the door made me freeze as I felt my skin break out in goosebumps. He was scratching the end of his hanger down the wood to frighten me and it was working.
Taking a deep breath, I fought with myself not to shake or scream for help. While I had no idea if what he had said was true about smelling me, if I moved he would most certainly hear me. So I stayed right where I was, barely daring to breathe lest he hear that too. A loud, sudden bang that shook the door in its hinges very nearly drew a surprised scream from me; forcing me to bite my lower lip to keep the involuntary noise inside. “I ain't goin' nowhere til I see you, ya lil slut. You've been hauntin' my dreams, makin' me see flashes of things in ma head,” hissed the voice of a man who had lost his mind long before I had ever come to this godforsaken realm. Still, something in his tone drew me to the entry subconsciously and I found myself more than halfway there before I had even noticed I was moving.
It was then I heard a loud curse from below before there was a pounding sound signifying that someone was making their way up the stairs at a rapid pace. Then there was the sound of a body colliding with the one outside just before a slam shook the entire house. “What th'shit were ya doin' up here by ma bedroom! Ya have no reason t'be here at all,” screamed the voice of Otis, sounding more upset than I had ever heard him. Yet, under all the raw fury, I could swear I heard the faintest trace of fear.
“Alrigh' kiddies, ya'll play nice now,” drawled a third voice as almost lazy foot falls approached.
“Jest git yer damn dog outta here and go on back downstairs, I'll be there momentarily to kick the shit outta ya both,” bit out the ghoul I 'belonged' to before the doorknob jiggled, hard.
In that moment, the bottom dropped out of my stomach as I rushed to unlock it. What only took a matter of seconds seemed to take an eternity, the sound of the lock turning almost deafeningly loud to my ears. In the second it was unlocked, Otis charged in to slam the thick piece of wood behind him before practically wrapping himself around me. In fact, he seemed to be shaking ever so slightly as he took me into one of his strange holds. Without a word of explanation, he took my lips in a vicious kiss that bruised my lips before practically shoving me away from him. “Ya did gewd. I dun want ya around them unless absolutely necessary. That pansy ass chrome-dome seems to have formed an unhealthy obsession with ya,” snarled the almost apoplectic murderer before he stormed into the Prep Room, leaving me feeling terrified as well as slightly confused.
- 18
- 19
- 20
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Dangerous