The room was exactly how Donovan had seen it when he blacked out playing video games. Chains hung from the ceiling, blood and other fluids stained the walls and carpet and Donna and Peter were on the floor, long since dead.
He leaned against the wall, desperately worked to keep breakfast from coming back up. How is this even possible? What the fuck is happening? He pushed himself up, staggered across the room. He looked down at Donna, cuts all over her body and deeper wounds in her stomach and breasts. Why would someone do this? He squatted down and checked for a pulse he knew she would not have.
With a sigh, he moved onto Peter and wretched at the hundreds of tiny cuts that covered most of his body. Fuck. He did not bother checking for any signs of life. He was not foolish enough to fall for hope’s lie again.
He turned to leave when Percy ran inside, his eyes filled with fear and confusion. He opened his mouth to speak but his eyes shot past Donovan and landed on his brother’s body.
“Petey!” He screamed and ran toward his dead brother. Donovan grabbed him before he reached the body and pulled him close and to the ground. “No! Petey!” His cries came swiftly and hard, vibrated through him.
“I’m sorry, Perc, I’m so fucking sorry.”
“What… what happened? How, how did you know?”
“What?” Percy asked.
Stupid, useless cocksucker.
“Alright, dude,” Percy said, pulling away. “Not fucking funny.”
“I swear, I didn’t-”
I knew you were fuckin’ queer the moment you slithered out of your momma’s cunt. Shoulda slit your dick lovin’ throat then.
“How can you say that?”
“Perc? What’s going on?”
* * *
Percy felt his stomach drop as his father’s words rolled over him. He tried to respond, say something to defend himself or even deny the accusations but words were suddenly foreign to him. He was at his father’s mercy.
What do you think you’re doing bringing your fucking filth into my house? His kind isn’t welcome here.
“Dad… please, I…”
Shut your faggot mouth. How can this be? My own son, a cocksucker… No, no, I have no son. You’re an abomination and I’ll not have you in my house.
Percy backed away, afraid his father would do something worse than call him names and curse him. He had seen the old man’s anger more than once and the sight always chilled him to the core. He was always more of an Old Testament sort of man and claimed his treatment of those he considered sinners to be God’s will.
There was no point in pleading.
I’m gonna beat the gay outta you, boy. He swung at him but his fist passed right through him.
He fell back, onto his brother’s body as his father disappeared.
* * *
“Holy shit, man, are you okay?” Donovan grabbed Percy’s hand and pulled him up. “What just happened?”
“Can we just, um…” He motioned to the door.
“Yeah. “ With one arm around him, Donovan led him outside, where the neighbors had begun to gather, though he kept an eye on the room, half expecting someone, or something, to jump out at them.
Once in the front yard, Donovan saw the police lights down the street. Someone had called 911 and he was relieved help was on the way. Not that they’d believe the weird ass shit we’ve seen.
* * *
Joey stared at the naked boy who squatted before him and held a knife to his throat. He could not believe he was staring into the face of someone who was dead and buried but knew it was not just a dream; the pain covering his body reminded him of that every time he hoped it was.
“Please, just let me go.”
No, we enjoy hurting you. Why would we set you free now?
Joey pulled against the restraints again before letting himself go limp. It was useless to fight and he knew it.
“Then just get it over with.”
In time, boy. First, we have some… base needs this vessel needs fulfilled.
He did not know what that meant but felt the fear grow as the boy moved behind him and grabbed his hips.
“No, no, please don’t-” He screamed as the boy slammed into him. “No! No! Stop, please.”
The boy only moved faster, harder. Tears ran down Joey’ cheeks as every bit of his self-worth melted away, dragged him down to depths he did not know he could go. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed it would end soon.
Eventually, the boy stopped moving, though he stayed inside Joey.
Now to finish.
The knife was dragged across his throat, spilling his blood down his chest. His last sight was of the boy slicing his bindings to allow him to slump onto the floor.
TO BE CONTINUED