Page 45 of Run

As I look into those eyes, I can see the night he took mother from me. She was bent over backwards on the counter right behind where he stands now. He was grunting and panting so grossly as he fucked her against her will. The rape and the hurt he caused her killed her way before he grabbed the knife off the cutting board and drug it across her throat while shouting ather to shut up. I can smell her blood all thick and red pouring down her front as he came inside her, defiling her even in death. I was hiding in the pantry, after she screamed at me to run.

“Run H! Run baby!” She had cried out in pain as he drug her to the kitchen.

I couldn’t go though, I couldn’t leave her, but I was too little, too scared to go against him, and like a pussy I hid, watching him do the vilest things to her, then killing her and tossing her corpse to dismember onto the very place where she cooked my meals with all her love.

“Fuck you!” I scream in his face. “Fuck you right to hell!”

I grab his wrist and squeeze as tightly as I can, hearing the bones crunch in my grasp. His eyes widen and he takes a step back, which only gives me the room I need. I swing my forearm up, releasing his grip from my shirt, twisting his arm, and I push him backwards.

His ass hits the cabinets, his back arching over the counter. He’s right where he did her dirty, and now, fucking now, I’m going to do the same thing to him.

“You like beating and raping women? Turning something pure into a whore just for you? You like seeing them cry and beg? Well, now you’re gonna beg me motherfucker.”

He grabs at me, his hands flailing and grasping but I’m too strong, and too fast as I grab his legs, lifting him, throwing him onto his back on the butcher block counter top.

“You wanna be butchered where you butchered her? Where you cut her throat, where you cut her up into tiny pieces to be thrown away with the trash?” I scream in his face, leaning over him, pinning him down with my body weight.

My hands dig through his hair, grabbing his head, slamming it to the counter over and over again as he bucks and fights under me. He’s strong, but I’m stronger now. I’m a man. A fucking angry man on a mission to finally take back what he took from me.

“I fucking hate you! You evil piece of shit!”

His scalp breaks first, the blood pouring out over the wooden surface where her blood spilt. It’s not enough, I need more, more destruction, more…everything. His face shatters, with his nose flattening as I headbutt him, cracking my forehead so hard I see stars. Still, it’s not enough, and my fists pummel him over and over again, his cheeks sinking in, his face being obliterated.

The sound of my pants hitting the floor, and his following is the pinnacle, the point of no return.

He screams out loudly as I lay on his body, his head swimming, keeping him down enough from the concussion and fractures that he can’t stop me from taking my dick and shoving it in his ass.

I’m a virgin, never having touched a woman yet, and the first thing besides my fist that I’ve driven my cock into now, is him. It’s fitting. He took my youth and now this. Although he’s not taking it, I’m giving it willingly so he can truly see what it feels like to be violated by the one who’s supposed to love you but really despises you.

I fuck him hard and raw. He’s dry, and I can feel the skin splitting as I ram up inside him. His screams are as loud as mine as he bellows out in physical pain, and I roar in emotional anguish. It’s filthy, it’s wrong, and it hurts me too, but I need it, I need to fuck him the way he fucked her. I just wasn’t expectingto enjoy the pain. I didn’t think it would make me hard or bring me to a climax, but the sheer terror and hurt in his twisted face makes me cum violently in his asshole that bleeds so beautifully all over me.

It's as euphoric as the wave of pleasure that sweeps over me as I grab a knife form the chopping block and drag it across his throat, opening him up like he opened her. He slides down, his feet trying to touch the floor, to escape, but it’s futile. The reaper is reaching out his bony hand for him.

He gurgles and spits red saliva all over my face as he dies, his body finally falling slack, being held up by nothing more than my still pulsing cock. It’s not over, but for now as I growl in appreciation of the vacant look in his eyes, I already feel the change in myself.

“Fuck.”

~~~

I’m crying like that little boy, and like that young man as I climb out of the pit like a zombie coming from their grave. Covered in filth, blood, decomp, and insects, I pull myself up onto the deck of the gazebo with the skull in my disgusting hand.

“H?”

Chapter Twenty-Five

“H?”

Oh no, no, no

She can’t be here, I left her asleep in the library, snuggled under a blanket, safe and clean, and innocent. She can’t see me like this, covered in death and decomp, smelling like a sewer, and looking like the monster I feared she saw me as before she decided to stay of her own free will.

“Lily. Go back in the house.” I say, my back turned to her, afraid to turn around and see the look in her face.

“H, what is this?” She asks, her voice wavering, cracking at the end in her surprise, disgust, fear, or whatever it is.

“Lily, go back in the fucking house!”

“No.” She says, and I can hear her foot stomp defiantly on the wooden deck below us. “Turn around and look at me.”

---