Page 36 of Sick Bargain

“We’ll be doing the haunting from now on, hero,” Krypt says. “Gregory Malone won’t know a moment of peace until the day he dies, and trust me, that’s going to be a long time from now.”

The one in the teal mask moves fast, throwing a black hood over my head. I panic, but Krypt’s voice is in my ear. “We’re taking you back to Vile House. Relax.”

Relax?While my vision is cut off and my fate is in their hands? Not fucking likely. Krypt steers me out of the cemetery, and within a few minutes, I’m in a vehicle, sitting in what I assume is the back seat with his arms around me. The other two must be in the front because someone is driving, and hushed whispers fill the silence. After a bit of a drive and a long walk through somewhere damp and full of echoes, Krypt finally removes the hood from my head.

I blink at his bedroom, trying to get my bearings or figure out how we got here. Honestly, I’m just tired. My body is exhausted and my mental breakdown from earlier at the shop has riddled my mind with overthinking.

“Will I ever be allowed to know how we get here? I thought I wasn’t a prisoner?”

“Yes,” is all he says. “Bed,” he adds a moment later, the smell of weed filling the room.

“Can I have some of that?” I ask, climbing onto his bed fully dressed.

Krypt sits next to me, his mask no longer on. Instead of offering me the joint he’s smoking, he holds out a fresh one and puts it between my lips. It might help my mind shut down and make sleep easier, so I lean forward and let him light it.

It’s been a while since I smoked, but the taste is familiar against my tongue and the burn feels good in my lungs. I inhale a few times, listening to the paper crackle as it dwindles down.

Then Krypt says, “You trust too easily, Remiel.”

My body is sweating,but my eyes can’t see. When I come to, I don’t come back the same as I was before. I’m lucid but unaware, slow to react but not understanding the threat, and scared without knowing why or what to do about it.

I’m suffocating against something soft, but hurting because of something hard. I try to blink away the bleariness, but all I see is the dull glow of a screen that light-blinds me. The sound of moaning hits my ears, but it doesn’t sound real. It’s tinny and warped from a speaker, the volume turned down low.

I cough, and my lungs ache almost as hard as my head. “K-Krypt?”

The bed swallows me when something pushes on me from behind. Something or someone weighs me down, and I jolt when I feel fingers prodding at my ass. My naked ass.

The fear becomes much more vibrant now. “Krypt?” I try to look for him, but see nothing except the blurry screen that playsa porno. The men are indistinct because my eyes won’t focus, but the words from the speakers hit my ears.

“Ah, stretch me open. Get me ready for that big cock.”

Oh my god. I try to break free from whatever is pinning me down, but my arms don’t move how I tell them to, and my legs are numb and heavy.

“You aren’t supposed to be awake yet,” Krypt’s jittery, abrasive voice says.

“What… what are you doing?” I turn my head, but it’s so heavy. It falls against the pillow no matter how hard I try to lift it. “What are you doing to me?”

I cry out when his fingers stretch me open. The sensation is so weird and unexpected that I attempt to wiggle free. Is he seriously just… fingering my ass? Why? Why drug me for this when I offered myself to him so willingly earlier?

My body jolts when he curls his fingers, hitting a spot inside me that sparks vibrantly. “Krypt!” I shout, my voice louder now. “Stop.”

“Youstop,” he counters, adding another finger. “Go back to sleep, Remiel.”

Go back to sleep? While he’s, once again, sexually assaulting me? “No! Get off of me. This isn’t part of our deal.”

“I own you, hero. Your body comes with every aspect of our deal.”

I lift my heavy head and tilt it until my neck hurts, looking at him down the bed. He’s kneeling beside me, the iPad propped up against my hip as he watches the screen and… mimics their actions? What the hell is going on? Is he learning how to prep someone for sex?

I pinch my lips to hold in a hiss when he spears me open, but my face heats a second later when he brushes his fingers against something inside me again. I feel my dick twitch, refusing to think about it. Not again. Why does my body respond to this?

“Why do it like this, then?” I ask, the pillow dampening beneath my face. My eyes are leaking and I’m drooling, but I can’t lift my hand to wipe it away. I’m all pins and needles. “Why drug me?”

“Because you aren’t meant to see this part.” He moves his fingers inside me and I jerk at the sensation.

“What part?” I shout, voice raw. “The part where you sexually assault me for the third time?” Anger tries to claw its way to my surface, but numbness and a lazy haze chase it away.

“You weren’t supposed to know about this time.”

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