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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
WARNING!!: Knife Play! Blood Play!

Author's Note: Sorry for delays, lost my muse for a bit there but I feel re-energized to continue after my break.

Chapter Eight: A Day of Surprises

When I woke up to horrible nausea the next day, I felt true panic begin to settle in. Once had already been unusual. Twice was only confirming my suspicions of yesterday. As I ran to the bathroom to vomit up what I had eaten last night, I heard a distressing mantra in my head over and over. 'Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant.' Even while I vomited, the word repeated as if on a broken record. “Jesus wept,” I gasped out as soon as the first wave passed, resting my sweaty forehead against the cool bowl of the toilet.

“Are ya okay?” came a concerned, female voice from the door, nearly making me jump out of my skin. Turning my head, I saw Baby leaning on a door frame with a concerned expression on her young, pale face. Before I could even open my mouth to reply, Otis was shoving her out of the way with a heavy glare on his visage.

“She's pregnant. Go on downstairs and fetch some tea from Mama,” he bit out, ignoring the shocked look on his sister's face as he turned around to focus on me.

Not waiting to see what would happen, the blonde ran down the hall toward the stairs; leaving me alone with my pissed off looking lover. “This ain't gewd… Not at all,” he hissed as he began to pace. Before I could ask what he meant another wave of nausea was cramping my stomach and I was expelling the contents of my stomach again.

“I cain't have ya throwin' up everything ya ate fer dinner th'other night,” he continued, his statement outright confusing the shit out of me.

When I finished heaving, I fought to catch my breath as I met his fiery eyes. “This is sorta what morning sickness is,” I pointed out, more than a little confused about his actions. From what I had seen, the violent wraith was obviously very experienced in pregnancy. Why was he acting so concerned by something as mundane as morning sickness?

“Taint usually this violent. You seem t'keep getting' sick even with yer stomach empty,” he observed as he began to pace, his icy eyes never leaving me.

“At this rate, ya won't keep down nutrition and that'll start t'cause problems,” the killer continued, stopping briefly to run a shaky hand through his hair.

It was at that moment Baby showed up with some tea as well as a bowl of homemade soup, an incredulous expression on her young face. As she handed the tray to her brother, a silent communication seeming to pass between them. Then she was leaving, giving me a last confused glance before she did so. Before I could ask what that had been all about, he was pulling me to my feet and pushing the cup of tea into my hands. “Take a sip of that afore ya git sick agin,” he snarled, glaring at me as I lifted the cup to my lips reluctantly. To my shock, it went down easy; instantly settling my stomach.

“Mama used to git horrible mornin' sickness when she was pregnant. This was an old remedy her ma taught her. Drink alla that and come back t'the room. Ya need t'git som'thin' in that stomach as soon as possible,” the wraith bit out before turning on his heel and stomping out of the room. If I didn't know any better, I could almost say he was worried about me.

Shaking off the silly notion, I finished the tea before brushing my teeth. Then I eyed the shower and decided, come Hell or high water, that I was getting clean today. The rest of the family may not care about their hygiene but I sure as shit cared about my own. So I shut the door before turning on the faucet. As soon as it reached a temperature I liked, I switched it to the shower head and began to shuck off my clothes. I was just about to step in when Otis came storming back into the room, the glare on his pale, bearded face briefly turning into an expression of shock. An expression that quickly turned to hunger before fading into his usual angry mask. It was almost as if that was the only face he felt comfortable showing. “I was going to take a shower. I haven't bathed since I got here,” I found myself explaining as the killer closed and locked the door behind him.

I would be lying if I said the sound of the latch hitting home didn't cause a thrill of fear to race through my veins. It took everything I had within me to meet his eyes with my own hazel ones as I stood my ground. To my shock, the violent male began to disrobe; the glare never leaving his grizzled face. “Go ahead and git in,” he whispered, the softness of his voice a contradiction to the almost hateful look on his visage. A bit confused by his behavior, I decided just to do what he said and got into the shower; closing the curtain. I only had a few minutes before I felt his presence behind me, not even hearing him enter the shower. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath to calm myself before reaching for a washcloth. Just as my hand met the blue, cotton material, Otis was snatching it out of my grasp; his other hand wrapping around my waist to hold me in place.

Then he began washing me, his hands moving over my body slowly; as if he was seeing me for the first time. Calluses brushed my nipples as he pressed himself up against me to wash my front but his hands didn't linger, to my surprise. Despite the erection I could feel growing against my ass, he seemed to have no amorous intentions; his hands only moving to wash me as his chin came to rest on my right shoulder. The psychopath inhaled deeply, growling low in his chest as his hands traveled to my junction. Not daring to even breathe too loudly for fear of breaking the spell, I spread my legs for him and watched as he almost lovingly washed my nethers. “You'd let me do anythin' t'ya, no struggle. If I wanted, I could fuck ya anytime and ya wouldn't fight me. You've given yerself t'me entirely with no care if I'll kill ya in th'end. Yer also honest with me and mine. Yer, without a doubt, the strangest bitch I've ever met but there's something about you. Something that makes me… want,” he rasped, giving my neck a gentle bite as his fingers briefly slipped inside me.

“I've felt empty fer years ya lil bitch. What th'fuck gives ya th'right t'make me want, t'even make me consider being gentle to you. And this lil bastard yer carryin'… Why th'hell am I even lettin' ya keep it. Since when did I start t'care about yer well-being enough t'actually give a shit if ya live or die?” the murderer continued, his voice staying even despite the harshness of his words. His skilled fingers gave my clit a brief brush before both his hands came up to rest on my womb.

Otis sighed softly, almost sounding content as he rested his lips on my pulse. “This… I never thought I'd ever have a child, someone I could teach mah trade to and t'have a bitch like you… I might be happy for th'first time in mah life,” he confessed before turning me around to take my lips in a bruising kiss full of teeth.

“Don't let it go t'yer head though. Ya need t'keep in mind jest who yer dealin' with and make sure ya keep proper respect fer me or I cain't promise I'll be able t'control mah temper,” he snarled in a slightly unsteady voice as he broke the kiss, his hands shaking as they came up to grip my face. Then he was reaching behind me to turn off the water and leaving the shower, completely surprising me.

Everything he has said, along with his actions went against everything I thought I knew about him and I found myself more than a little thrown off balance by his behavior. Still stunned, I got out of the shower as well; only to see him still standing there. “Git dressed and hurry back t'the room. We ain't got any more time fer yer lollygagging,” the killer snarled, acting as if none of what happened between them had happened. Sighing, but comforted by the return to the familiar; I got dressed and followed my would be mentor back to his room. Once there, he pointed to the bed and I saw the tray with the soup on it had been placed on the ratty mattress.

Moving a lock of my midnight hair behind my left ear, I walked over to our shared bed and picked up the still steaming bowl in my hands. Despite the tea settling my stomach I found myself reluctant to eat after throwing up so violently just moments before. Thankfully, the soup itself seemed to be a homemade chicken noodle and smelled delicious; helping encourage my appetite. Taking a spoonful, I took a cautious sip. To my relief, it was delicious and I was able to get the entire bowl down without feeling a resurgence of my earlier nausea; Otis watching me closely the entire time. As soon as I was done, he was taking the empty receptacle to place it on a near-by dresser. “Git into bed,” he snarled, his eyes flashing.

“But, what about the girl?” I found myself asking, blinking in shock at what had come out of my mouth. When had these horrors become so commonplace that I now asked about them when they didn't happen on schedule? Even the ghoul across from me seemed surprised, tilting his head to the side before answering.

“I cain't risk ya gettin' sick again so soon after gettin' some food into ya. Ya won't be able t' keep that up fer long,” he explained, the glare on his pale face lightening just slightly.

Before I could ask what I was supposed to do, the psychotic male pointed to the bed. “I ain't gonna ask ya again, get in th'bed before I tie you to the mattress,” he hissed, the steel in his gaze telling me he would make very good on that threat. So, still rather confused, I lay on the grubby sheets; keeping my eyes on him the entire time. With a man like him, I couldn't really afford to let my guard down for a second. Even if it seemed like I had gained a good measure of his trust, Otis was capable of turning on a dime and deciding it just wasn't worth the trouble of tolerating me. If he ever decided to do that, I certainly didn't want to stick around for it.

“Now stay there. I'll git Baby or Mama t'keep ya company,” growled his mid-tone voice before he turned and left the room.

Minutes later and I found myself in the strangest situation yet. Baby was sitting by the bed I shared with her brother, chatting about movie stars she had a crush on while screams from the child Otis had singled out came from the 'Preparation Room.' “Th' last time R.J. was in town, he got me that 'Titanic' movie. I wouldn't mind goin' a few rounds with that Leonardo DiCaprio I tell ya that much,” she declared, an aroused expression on her face that made me feel just plain awkward.

“Er, yeah. I think Jack was my favorite character,” I agreed, trying to ignore the feminine pleas coming from the other room. To be honest, it kinda blew my mind that they even had movies in this world; let alone ones that were identical to ours. Granted, I had seen they had such things in the movies based on them but actually seeing this fact was another matter entirely. It even made me wonder if their movies also existed in some form over here.

“So, ya caught pregnant huh? It's sorta surprisin' Otis is lettin' ya keep it,” came an amused, high voice, drawing me out of my meta musings with a harsh snap.

Looking up at the woman beside me, I only saw genuine curiosity and surprise on her young features. Sighing, I nodded slightly before switching my gaze to the disgusting sheets under me. All kinds of stains littered the torn, crusty looking fabric, making my skin crawl at the thought of what some of them could be. “Yeah, I know. He doesn't seem the fatherly type or the type to really care about a practical stranger's safety. He's been acting so strangely lately,” I whispered, deciding to focus on my hands instead. If I kept looking at that, I was bound to lose what little food I had ingested.

Making a noise of agreement, Baby shifted slightly to place a hand on my shoulder to gain my attention. “Ya act as if yew know him so well all th'time, always givin' him the proper respect and even helpin' us git new victims. Ya even act like ya know us. Yet I'm sure we've never met afore now,” she continued once our eyes met. I could only swallow in response, feeling a bit like a trapped rabbit.

“Still, as odd as ya act, I can't be all that suspicious of ya. After all, you woulda tried to hurt us a long before now after what you've seen. I know jest how Otis' projects go,” the blonde continued, her smile nothing but genuine. Then she was sighing as she closed her eyes.

“Jest, don't do anythin' stupid. Or start getting' noble ideas about savin' anyone. You've… well we trust ya lil sister,” she warned, her gaze deadly when she reopened her blue orbs.

“I won't do anything like that. I… You'll just have to take my word that I only have the best interests of the family in my mind. You guys… you strangely mean a lot to me despite the horrible actions you've been committing. I just… I wish…,” I struggled, suddenly finding myself just wanting to spill everything. Surely, with how much trust they seemed to have for me, it wouldn't be a problem just to tell them where I had come from and why I was really here.

Then again, if someone came up to me with a story like mine; I would think they were downright insane. Still, I would have to tell them at some point. I couldn't very well hope to save them if I didn't and I still very much did want to save them. Even with everything I had seen, the thought of betraying them made me feel sick to my very soul. “Whatever it is, you can tell us when yer ready,” Baby whispered, taking my hands in her own. It was at that moment that Otis decided to come back into the room, a heavy glare on his bearded face.

“Baby, go git th'lil bitch outta there. Ya can play with her if ya want but I don't want her in here anymore,” the murderer whispered, something in his eyes making my blood turn to ice.

The pink clad woman nodded with a smile. Then she was flouncing into the 'Preparation Room,' singing a mindless tune as she went. This left me alone with a rather agitated psychopath, his eyes fixed on me as he opened and closed his hands rhythmically by his sides. Before he could say anything, the cheerful murderess was dragging her new toy behind her and out of the room; closing the door behind her. Now we were truly alone and I could see his agitation growing, his thin chest heaving as he flared his nostrils. Then he was rushing me, his sharp hunting knife against my throat before I knew it and his nose a hair's breadth from touching my own as he bore down on me. “You swear t'me right now thet whatever it is yer hidin' isn't gonna be some half ass trap to git me and mah fam'ly. Cause if it is, I c'n swear t'ya that all the shit ya've seen will seem like a fucking hangnail compared to what I will do t'ya,” he rumbled, his mid-tone full of threat as his near white hair came to hang in his angry but oddly handsome face.

“If you knew what I was hiding you wouldn't be accusing me of this. All I can say is that I'm here to help if I can,” I replied with surprising calm despite the fact my heart was racing in my chest. Otis only growled low in his throat, bearing down on his knife so the blade cut slightly into my porcelain skin.

A light hiss of pain left me but I made no move to escape or even struggle, leaving my fate solely in the hands of this horribly insane man. It wasn't that I wanted to die, it was more like I had no real chance to win in a fight and any resistance would have broken the very hard won trust I had gained. Even the feeling of my own blood running down my throat didn't cause me to struggle, my eyes meeting his steadily as I awaited his next action. I must have done something right because the monster above me switched from rage to lust in seconds, his tongue meeting the bead of blood at the bottom and following up to the cruel blade on her throat. Then, with a low noise that curled somewhere deep within her and tugged, he removed the weapon to latch onto the wound itself.

A slight sucking noise filled the room as he drew blood out of the cut, the slightly painful feeling making desire tingle slightly in my lower body. Was I really getting aroused right after he had threatened my life and injuring me? As he pulled back to lift off my shirt and place the blade of his knife on my milky flesh, I found that the answer was yes as he made another wound and began to lap at it. I even found my hands tangling in his still damp hair as a moan left my lips, lust slowly overtaking my confusion. Otis faltered for a second, seemingly confused himself. Then he was sucking even harder at the shallow cut, a low, gruff snarl bubbling up from his chest as he brushed my right nipple with a callused thumb.

Another line of pain soon burned across the other side of my chest and I realized this was quickly turning into a very strange, sexual situation. Even now I found my back arching as the pool of desire inside me formed into a burning coil that was slowly tightening. “Fuck, Otis,” came out of my mouth in a breathy sigh as he moved to lick that wound next. The ghoul's only response was to let out a gruff noise as his tongue delved into the shallow valley of the slice, his knee parting my thighs so he could settle between them. Then his palms were massaging my sizable breasts, the rough calluses on his palms brushing my sensitive nipples and causing sparks of lust to race through my blood to assimilate with the pulsing coil of need clenching my womb.

With a low, long snarl that sounded more animal than human, the albino creature released the wound to attack my left nipple; his teeth clamping down painfully. To my utter horror and fascination, the sharp jolt of pain drew an actual moan from me as I felt the walls of my womanhood practically shudder from the surge of need that came with it. This seemed to cause a pleasured sound to bubble up from the bony killer as he released my abused bud to suckle on it, his tongue soothing the throbbing bite. Releasing a moan of his own, Otis fumbled with my jeans before unfastening them and pulling them down. He only let go of my nipple to sit up and remove his own clothes, his icy eyes glittering as they roved over my fish-belly body.

I was a pasty white, almost as pale as Otis and was slightly overweight; a bit of fat clinging to my hips, belly and breasts. The infamous murderer, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. He was thin almost to the point of being dangerous, his skeleton clearly visible under his tight, marble skin. It wasn't to the point of seeing every single detail but it wouldn't take much further to get to that point. Just looking at him made concern fill me and I found myself sitting up slightly as my hand touched his ribs of its own accord. “You really need to eat more yourself…,” I whispered in a soft voice, avoiding his gaze as I watched my hand move up to one of his pink nipples as if it were some alien being that had attached itself to me. Then my thumb brushed the small nodule, eliciting a slight gasp from the monster.

I froze in that moment, unsure if I was overstepping any invisible boundaries. I had just touched him without being asked when he was the one who normally took control during sex. All at once I was hit with the extreme urge to hide and it was all I could do to cautiously pull my hand back, forcing myself to stay in place with sheer will alone. Before I could get far, however, the male across from me snatched my wrist in a nearly painful grip. Then he was placing my palm back where it had been, leaning into my touch as his free hand tilted my chin up. As my hazel eyes met his azure ones, I could see burning lust and a deep need that made my mouth go dry. “Go ahead…,” he rasped, his breath slightly ragged and he slowly released me entirely. Licking my lips, I kept my eyes locked with his as I cautiously brushed his nipple again.

To my shock, his eyes dilated instantly and a shaky breath huffed from him as he seemed to fight against a moan. It was then I realized that I was probably one of the very few, if not the only one, to touch him with passion in a very long time or ever. So, only feeling slightly bolder, I lowered myself to his chest; keeping my eyes locked with his as I tentatively licked the small bump I had been playing with. This drew a sharp hiss as one of his hands came to tangle in my hair. To my surprise, he didn't hold me in place; only tangled his fingers in my ebony locks as if he needed something to hang onto. I could only shudder in response, his reactions causing my nethers to pulse with almost painful need. The fact I was causing this in a beast like him turned me on something fierce and I found myself wanting to explore more of him.

Releasing his flesh, I kept my gaze on his as I nibbled my way across his bony, hairless chest. Once I reached his other nipple, I closed my teeth around it and gave a rough bite. Otis arched in response, a very quiet moan leaving his mouth as his hand tightened painfully in my hair. “Be as rough as ya want with me. Bite me, scratch me, draw blood. I won't punish ya, jest fuckin' hurt me,” he rasped as he began to pant raggedly. Blinking, I pulled away to look at him before motioning for him to lay down. A request he practically scrambled to fulfill, shocking the fuck out of me in the process. In fact, just seeing the mighty man so vulnerable made me feel both strange and exhilarated. So, taking a deep breath, I clambered onto of him and closed my eyes as I gathered my courage.

To tell the truth, I had never even thought of harming my partner for sexual gratification or vice versa. Still, I had read about it and found myself curious; especially after what had happened with the knife earlier. So, opening my green eyes, I slowly raked my nails lightly down his chest to test both their sharpness and his tolerance. Otis huffed impatiently in response, giving a look that told me I hadn't used nearly enough force for his taste. “It'll take more'n that t'hurt me ya dumb whore. Now fuckin' hurt me!” he rumbled, his voice a low, deadly snarl. Nodding to show I understood, I raked my nails down his torso as hard as I could; watching in fascination as he arched into me.

“Aaaahn, yeah. Jest like thet. Keep goin' til ya draw blood,” came his urgent voice, his manhood a steel rod beneath me. Swallowing, I did it again even harder; not sure how to feel about the lust burning like fire in my veins.

This entire situation was so strange but I couldn't help but slightly enjoy the rush of adrenaline this was giving me. So, keeping my gaze on his face, I ran my nails down his chest again; this time drawing a little bit of blood. “Ah, fuck. Lick them like I did with you,” the murderer demanded, his hands fisting in the filthy bedding below him. This request gave me pause. This small amount of blood wasn't enough to make me nauseous but the thought of it certainly did. Still, it wouldn't be much different than sucking on a paper cut due to the wounds being so small. Leaning forward, I gave one of the smaller scratches a slow lick; surprised to find the taste wasn't that bad. Slightly salty and coppery but not as bad as I had expected.

Soon I was lapping at each small bead of blood on him, shuddering slightly when the wraith placed his hands on my head. The next thing I knew, I was on my back as he entered me; another animalistic sound ripping from deep in his chest when he hilted. Then he was taking me hard and fast, biting the junction where my neck met my shoulder hard. Before I knew it, I was cumming hard; screaming his name loud enough that I'm sure the neighbors hundreds of miles away heard it. I was so overwhelmed by pain and pleasure that I almost missed him sighing out my own name as he spilled himself inside me. It was only a few seconds later that he pulled out, giving my face a hard but affectionate pat before pulling his pants and tank top back on. “Come with me, we're goin' out fer some supplies,” he growled out, his words befuddling me more than anything else had so far.

From everything I knew because of the movies, Otis barely left his room and most certainly never left the property; all facts that had been faithfully backed up so far. This whole thing seemed wildly out of character. It was only sheer habit that got me out of the bed and dressed, my body following him mechanically while my brain still tried to come to terms with what we were doing. It was only after we had passed the end of the driveway that it truly hit me that we were really leaving temporarily. “I don't like leavin' if I don't hafta but I gotta git some shit that th'others jest can't git fer me,” he explained in a terse tone, a huge cowboy hat on his head to shield his pale skin from the sun. I could only nod as I followed, wondering just where the Hell we were going that the other family members couldn't or didn't want to.
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Dangerous