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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
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Warning!!!: Contains torture of mind and body. Rape of mind and body. Murder and abuse. Minor2. More Graphic parts marked with **

Author's Note: Yeah, these next chapters are gonna be hard to write. I'm going to have to put myself into a very scary place for this story. For the record, writing this family in character is extremely hard on me. Just because I write certain scenes doesn't mean I'm comfortable with them.

Chapter Four: Hospitality

A flurry of screaming, crying and begging startled me out of my thoughts. There was no clock in the room I was in so it seemed like time was stretching into eternity. Purely from boredom, I had begun to ponder my situation. Here I was, in a world that wasn't supposed to exist, trying to save a clan of murderers from a well-deserved fate. I was actually going to participate in murder and torture, something I would have never thought myself capable of. I probably wasn't going to be the same person after everything was said and done. It was then that I heard our poor victims being dragged upstairs.

The door to the bedroom slammed into the wall loudly as I heard two screaming women enter. “Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” Otis roared, slamming the door shut. The dumb females kept screaming their lungs out until I heard a loud slam and a choking noise.

“I said shut the fuck up!” Otis screamed, silence finally following his yell. Small sobs began to come from the room and I heard his boots stomping to the other side of the room. He stopped in front of the curtained off section, I could dimly see him through the curtains that blocked off where I was. I only saw his silhouette for a moment before he stomped back toward where I assumed the victims were. Whimpered pleas followed as it sounded like someone was being half dragged to the room.

“Stop yer fuckin' whinin'! All yer doin' is makin' noise,” the beast snarled before shoving someone into the room.

From what I could see through the semi-transparent, black cloth, the person was female, was blonde and was wearing some sort of skirt. Tensing, I watched the abnormally pale male closely as he stalked into the room. I had to be on the look out for any subtle ques he gave that he wanted me to come out. As I watched, he prowled around the bound girl slowly; something glinting in his hand. “Oh, I know jest what ta do with you,” he snarled, turning his gaze to where I stood. Gathering all of my courage, I stepped into the dimly lit room.

Her youth struck me like a sock in the stomach. She could be no more than sixteen! From the looks of her she was a cheerleader. Her frightened blue eyes moved to me as I stepped out, filling with unwarranted hope. As much as I wanted to, it would mean my life to help her. Trying not to shake, I walked towards Otis; stopping a few feet in front of him. “Git her undressed,” he snarled, tossing me his hunting knife.

Catching the knife by the hilt by some miracle, I gazed down at the blade in wonder. He was trusting me to handle a knife, not just any knife but his knife. The reality of what was happening crashed into me, almost making me sway. I had to use this knife to undress an underage girl who was more than likely going to get raped. Swallowing the thick bile that rose into the back of my throat, I walked towards the girl who was now looking at me with horror. I wished I could tell her that I didn't want to do this, that I had to do this or I would die. Yet those excuses sounded hollow and weak. Was saving this family worth what it would do to me? Was it worth going against my very moral code?

Holding the hilt of the knife tightly, I looked into the pleading blue eyes of this poor child. This child who had barely begun to live. This child who was going to be subjected to many horrors, many by my hand. A wrenching illness filled my gut as the hand holding the knife began to shake. “Please, just let me go,” the teen whimpered, tears rolling down her cheeks.

My heart lurched painfully in my chest and I had to bite my lip to prevent a sob from escaping. My very life hung in the balance if I didn't do this! Otis' life! His family's lives! Were they worth going through this to save? Fighting the coming tears, I began to slit the white shirt up the front; cutting through the brightly colored, embroidered letter of her school. She gasped in horror, trying to back away but only falling backward onto the floor thanks to her tied legs. She looked up at me with blind terror as well as betrayal.

Trying to shove my conscious thought elsewhere, I slit the short sleeves of the shirt; pulling the ruined material away from her. Ignoring her desperate pleas, I slid the point of the cruelly sharp blade under the white material of her bra and slit upwards. Her undeveloped breasts were exposed to my gaze and I had to fight not to turn away out of sheer disgust. If I did that, it would be a death sentence for me for sure. Swallowing the bitter bile that rose in my throat, I moved towards her skirt; holding the wickedly sharp knife in a shaky hand.

Her cries of please and don't do this fell on mostly deaf ears as I slipped the point of the knife under the hem of her brightly colored cheerleader skirt. With a deft flick of my wrist, I sliced through the tough elastic of the waistband and slit it down the front. With shaky hands, and fighting the urge to vomit, I opened the ruined skirt to reveal a pair of floral printed white panties. The poor child had begun to shake and sob uncontrollably, probably realizing just what was going to happen. Whispering a silent sorry to her in my head, I slid the knife under the hem of her panties and cut off the last vestige of her clothing.

While I had been occupied with this Otis must have snuck off to grab the other girl as I heard screamed protests coming from the other room towards us. Turning my head, I saw the murderer dragging the naked female companion of the one on the floor into the room. His ice blue eyes were glittering maliciously as he shoved her towards us. As quickly as I could, I skittered out of the way of the falling female and let her land on her sobbing friend. “Both of ya shut th'fuck up!” the wraith snarled hatefully, stalking over to the prone pair and yanking the one on top up by the rope binding her arms.

The female stupidly let out a scream, earning her a hard slap from the enraged male that nearly snapped her neck from the force of it. “I said shut th'fuck up!” he roared, motioning towards me with an opening and closing hand. Realizing he wanted his knife back, I immediately placed the hilt in his hand and watched silently as he held the blade against the sobbing female's throat. The other girl on the floor snuffled and hiccuped as she tried in vain to wriggle out of the tight ropes wound around her wrists and ankles.

“Please, please don't do this,” the shaking teen he held whimpered, tears and snot flowing freely down her pale face. The only caused the wraith to press the sharp implement against her even harder as his other hand came up to wrap around her neck.

“Are ya deaf or jest stupid! I could kill ya right now! All it would take is one lil' move and yer chokin' on yer own blood,” he rasped, his faded eyes glittering with rage the blade cut into her and blood began to trickle down his victim's porcelain skin.

Mewling slightly, the brunette shut up as her friend sobbed quietly on the floor. “There now, much better. Now I want ya t'do a lil' somethin' fer all th'hospitality ma fam'ly has shown ya,” the terror rasped, a sadistic tone to his voice as he used the hand holding her neck to shove her towards the blonde on the ground; removing the knife as he did so. This allowed her to fall on the other teen for the second time, causing an all new flurry of sobbing and begging. Ignoring this, Otis knotted a fist in her curly, brown hair and pulled her head back so he could whisper in her ear.

“I want you and yer friend there t'have sex fer us,” he snarled, earning a flurry of fresh pleas. Sure enough, out came the knife again; resting on blondie's throat instead this time.

**As I watched in horrified fascination, the pair slowly came to accept their fate and descended into quiet crying as their lips met. “There ya go! See how much nicer things c'n go when ya jest cooperate?” the psychopath cooed before his steel blue eyes moved up to land on me. In one look I knew he wanted me by his side and I rushed to do just that. As soon as I got close, the taller male was slowly getting to his feet; his glittering eyes watching the crying, kissing pair intently.

“Move to her breasts,” he barked out as his arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me to his side roughly. Whimpering and murmuring apologies to the blonde, the brunette broke the kiss to move to her friend's small, still developing breasts; her lipstick smeared lips closing around a pink nipple.

As the sound of sucking and soft sobs filled the room, I felt the beast's hand move under my stolen, dirty t-shirt to fondle my breast. It was all I could do to fight the urge to vomit or look away from the disturbing scene, knowing that if I did that I would be pretty much signing my own death warrant. “Hurry th'fuck up and git t'her pussy!” hissed the wraith to my left, his callused thumb brushing my sensitive nub as the brunette slowly, reluctantly crawled down her friend. She whispered another apology to the sobbing blonde before placing her mouth on the shaven slit.

“Don't be shy, git in there,” Otis snarled, unbuttoning my pants and slipping them slowly down my hips as the young woman complied.

Soon desperate tears were interlaced with reluctant, strained moans that sounded torn from the blonde's throat as the teen between her legs ate her out in earnest. While this was happening, I heard the sound of jeans hitting the floor just before I was pulled in front of the bony male. One hand pressing on my upper back bent me forward as his free hand roamed my right hip almost affectionately. Then he was positioning himself at my dry entrance, making an angry sound when he didn't find me as turned on as he was. Just hearing that sent a thrill of terror through me as he leaned forward, his sour breath hitting behind my right ear. With a low growl, the thin, white haired male entered me slowly; drawing a whimper from me as my womanhood began to burn from the dry entry.

Biting my lips to keep in my cries of pain, I simply placed my hands on my upper thighs as I tried to relax as much as I could to make it less painful. Biting the scruff of my neck, the killer behind me began to move inside me; one of his hands moving under my shirt to cup one of my dangling breasts. Rough fingers tweaked and played with one of my nipples, drawing a slight moan from me against my will. While this was going on, the blonde's own cries of pleasure were becoming louder and more distressed. Then the teen was crying out as her brown haired friend brought her to a forced orgasm. “Sit on her face,” snarled Otis, his hips snapping into mine as his manhood practically tore into me.

The teen between the blonde's legs gave the ghoul a hate filled look before slowly getting up and removing her underwear. “And you, if ya don't eat her out like she did you; yer friend'll be wearin' a much wider smile,” he rasped, still thrusting as I felt him reach for something. Knowing he was brandishing his knife, I kept my focus on the coerced pair; feeling nausea begin to rise within me as arousal began to percolate in my lower body due to his ministrations. The hand that wasn't playing with my breast went to my junction, the fingers fumbling until they found my clit; rubbing roughly as he leaned forward again. His hips moved in small circles, drawing reluctant pleasure from me as I watched the brunette lower herself on her friend's face.

“There ya go ya lil whore,” Otis rasped, groaning as he began to move faster.

To my horror, his hands and skillful movements inside me were beginning to draw an orgasm from me. Panting gruffly, I didn't dare close my eyes or even fight the intense sensations filling me. With the murderer ensconced so deeply within me, he would be easily be able to tell. Soon the bound blonde on the floor was eating out her friend like the monster ordered, drawing reluctant moans from the cheerleader perched precariously over her mouth. Mascara ran down both their cheeks freely as the pair locked eyes, seeming to communicate silently as the chocolate haired teen began to move her hips subconsciously.

Gasping as the tightening coil within me pulsed hard, it was all I could do not to collapse as my orgasm began to roll through me in thick, electric waves. “Nnn, fuck,” snarled a raspy voice in my ear, soon followed by the feeling of a burning hot liquid filling me in thick ropes. At the same time, the brunette let out a cry of her own as she seemingly reached her own peak. Before I could even begin to gather my wits, Otis was pulling out of me and pulling up his pants before circling to the panting, crying pair. The brown haired girl rolled off the teen below her before whispering apologies over and over. Not paying any mind to this, the wraith merely grabbed the unbound teen by her hair and drug her into the 'Art Room.'**

“No, no please! We did as you asked!” the completely helpless girl on the floor cried, her blue eyes going to me as the pair disappeared.

Avoiding her glance, I pulled my borrowed jeans up with a disgusted grimace. I could feel blood and semen dripping down my inner thighs as well as smell sex in the air. All at once my stomach lurched and I very nearly lost it. Covering my mouth with a shaky hand, I took deep breaths as I fought against the tears slowly beginning to clog my throat. I couldn't even apologize to the poor child glaring at me with hatred and gut churning betrayal. “You fucking bitch! Help us! If you have any soul, help us!” she screamed, making me flinch from the sheer venom of her words. Yet I couldn't just stand there and take it, not with Otis listening in the next room.

Apologizing to the sixteen year old in my head, I kicked her in the side as hard as I could with a loud snarl. “Shut up you lil slut!” I hissed with as much aggression as I could muster, feeling guilt twist a knife in my chest when she let out a cry of pain. The sound of a rough chuckle followed by the sound of a metal table being rolled out soon followed my action, drawing my attention to Otis. The brunette was now bound to a metal autopsy table, a gag in her mouth and several instruments of torture sitting in a neat, organized line by her right side. She was strapped to the stainless steel platform by bungee cords and her earthy eyes bugged out of her skull as she struggled against the binds.

“Did I hear someone disrespectin' mah girl?” the monster rolling out the bed cooed in a deceptively gentle tone as he released what he was pushing to approach the sniveling child on the floor.

The blond had curled up on her left side and whimpered softly as she sobbed, not daring to look up at either of us as Otis stalked up to her slowly. As I watched him bend down to glower in her face, I couldn't help but think about what he had just said. He had called me his girl but that could honestly mean anything to this beast. I couldn't allow my guard to drop just because of a declaration of possession. In all honesty, the murderer that was currently cutting into the flaxen haired teen's chest with a cruel smile on his face was probably utterly incapable of tender feelings as I knew them. “Go have some fun with th'one on the table. I have a lesson to teach this lil slut,” the psychopath growled, his steel blue eyes glittering with a glee that made my blood run cold.

Honestly beginning to question my motivations to save him and his family, I moved to the raised, stainless steel table the other teen was strapped to. Her wide, almost puppy like eyes followed me as tears began to flow freely down her pale cheeks. Tearing my gaze away from hers, I looked down at the horrifying, rusted, blood covered instruments. It looked like Otis had no care for the sterility of his tools, something that made a terrifying sense when I stopped to think about it. Why clean them when the people they were being used on wouldn't live long after? Picking up a sharp, jagged looking blade, I reluctantly looked down at my still very alive victim. This was going to be a lot harder than sewing two dead beings together or cutting off someone's clothes. This would be all out torture, an act I would have to pretend to enjoy.

Licking my dry lips, I focused my hazel gaze on the shuddering, white expanse of her skin. Ignoring the muffled sobs pouring past the strip of fabric that had been shoved into her mouth, I took a deep breath and made my first, shallow cut; flinching at the blood ad muffled sounds of pain. “No, no, no! Ya gotta do it with feelin'!” scolding Otis from right behind me, very nearly making me scream as I jumped to the ceiling. Doing my best to keep my grip on the implement in my hand, I craned my dark haired head to look at the monster looming at my back. The look he was giving me almost made my blood freeze in my veins.

His sky blue eyes were filled with impatience and just a hint of suspicion as one of his hands came around me to to join mine around the handle of the knife. Then he was leaning close enough that his lips brushed my ear, the smell of his breath very nearly making me loose my tenuous control over my stomach. “Yer actin' an awful lot like yer not enjoyin' this. I thought ya were here t'learn,” husked his voice, holding just a hint of anger. His words made my skin go cold and it was all I could do not to faint right then and there, not a very good idea at the moment.

“This is my first time doing any of this. I never thought it would be like this,” I found myself replying, wanting to slap myself for the way that came out. It almost sounded like a complaint and, sure enough, the ghoul behind me went stiff at my words.

“Jest what th'hell were ya expectin' when ya became a serial killer? Puppy dogs and rainbows? Did ya expect yer victims to come pre-dead?” he snared in a disparaging tone, his hand guiding mine to rest the cruel looking back against the teen's now heaving abdomen.

“Yer first mistake is seein' these things before you as anything but tools to use. They aren't fucking worth feelin' any guilt fer,” rasped his voice, still sound impatient as he forced me to begin tracing intricate lines in her skin with the blade.

Blood flowed freely, soon staining her marble skin crimson as her panic and pain grew. The bound teen was now struggling in earnest, doing her best to scream past the gag in her mouth while her friend sobbed on her spot on the floor. I didn't even dare look that way, both because I was afraid to see what the killer behind me had done to her let alone what he would do to me if I shifted my focus. Otis was not known to be patient so it would behoove me to pay full attention to this twisted lesson on how to properly torture a victim. “All that leavin' her mouth is jest noise. Ignore it fer th'work th'knife is doin' on her. Let th'blade speak through ya. Leave yer own unique mark on this whore's hide,” rasped the voice by my left ear, his hand slowly leaving mine as I continued making intricate cuts.

Letting the screams, sobs and blood fade into the background, I focused on what Otis had told me as well as the fact I was doing this to save my own life at this point. If I showed any more hesitation, it was clear I was done for. As terrible as it sounds, his horrifying advice actually began to help; turning the child before me into some sort of twisted canvas I was painting on. In time, it was like I wasn't even hurting another living being at all; I was so focused in finishing the 'art' I was creating. I only snapped back into reality when I made the last cut and I looked up to see what I had done to this child.

Thankfully she had passed out at one point but that didn't stop the nausea from flooding my body in an icy rush. Her skin was littered with intricate, flowing markings that almost looked like calligraphy. It would have looked beautiful if not for the fact it had been cut into a teenage girl's flesh. My stomach began to lurch hard, cause odd sounding hiccups to burble out of me as I fought to keep my gorge down. The fact that Otis was watching me closely on exacerbated the problem, let alone the thick smell of blood filling the room. Suddenly I was running, dismayed to find the bedroom door locked.

Unable to keep it together any longer, I simply collapsed to my knees as I began to make meaty, gagging noises. The wraith was on me in seconds, the rage on his face fading for disgusted impatience. “Fuckin' newbies,” he chided, before flinging a bucket in front of me. I barely had enough time to grab it before I was vomiting hard, tears flowing down my cheeks as what little I had in my stomach left quite painfully. Once that was over, I wiped the sweat from my clammy forehead before making a strange hacking noise and spitting into the receptacle before me.

“Have you never killed s'much as a cat b'fore now?” he growled, sounding impatient as I kept trying to clear the taste of vomit from the back of my throat.

“No and it doesn't help that I'm squeamish as shit,” I found myself confessing, knowing it would do no good to lie about it now. The man behind me only made a noise before storming back into the room where the still conscious and crying blonde was.

Wishing I could at least leave to get a glass of water, I gingerly got to my feet and wandered over to my makeshift nest of stolen, bloody shirts, pants and underwear. Even the jeans and black shirt I wore were caked in filth, making me feel incredibly grimy on top of the things I had just done. Before today, I would have never thought myself capable of such a heinous act; let alone orgasming while watching a rape. Feeling my stomach lurch once more due to where my thoughts were heading, I forced the offending memories away. It wasn't long after that Otis came back with both women slung over his shoulders. The golden haired teen was still sobbing softly while the brown haired teen lolled like bag of potatoes. Not even looking my way, the violent ghoul unlocked his door and left; slamming it behind him.

Despite the fact he had left the entry unlocked, I opted to stay where I was. As sickening as the taste of bile was in the back of my throat, it wasn't worth risking my neck to leave to get a simple drink. Huffing a sigh, I simply curled up on the pile of clothing to wait for him to come back; using the cleanest shirt I could find as a pillow. Thankfully I didn't have to wait long until I heard the doorknob jiggle and I sat up, blinking when I saw Otis come in with a glass of water as well as a box of crackers. The glare on his unnaturally white face told me Mama had suggested the crackers and the way he tossed them at me only confirmed my suspicion. It was more the act of a person being coerced into something rather than someone who was doing something out of simple compassion.

Then he was closing the distance to hand me the glass of water, a sneer on his bearded face as his blue eyes glowered down at me. “Thanks,” I whispered, taking the glass and downing the water in one gulp. The cold liquid soothed the slight burn left over from the stomach acid as well as washed away the remnants of the terrible taste, helping settle my stomach significantly. When I looked back up; I found the almost albino male crouching in front of me, his stubble dusted lips pierced.

“Jest why th'Hell did ya think it would be a good idea t'become a killer when ya git sick at th'sight of blood?” he hissed, suspicion shining in his too blue eyes as he glared down at me.

Fear began to squeeze my heart as I saw his gaze become contemplative, as if he was going over all the actions I had done in the past few days. “I… I… I'm just so sick of human beings in general. They're all so blind to what's going on around them, to how fucked the world really is. They just go on their meaningless little lives, ignoring all the shit everything is covered in,” came pouring out of my mouth before I could stop it, echoing feelings I had long buried since I was a teen.

My words made Otis blink, a brief flash of something strange going through his blue eyes before he straightened. “Go git yerself somethin' t'eat when ya think ya c'n manage it,” he ordered before disappearing back into the adjacent room. This left me alone with my thoughts as well as memories of what my hands had done. Shoving away the box of crackers with a groan, I did my best to bury these thoughts. One thing he was right about, I couldn't continue to see these victims as people. If I did, I would surely go crazy. Heaving a sigh, I simply curled up and tried to get some sleep; not looking forward to the nightmares that would surely come.
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Dangerous