Page 68 of Viparious

Walking into her house, I drop the ptichye moloko on the kitchen table and go on the hunt for the bitch. Even on the other side of the world, I could have known she’d be fucking someone. The noises coming through the door turns my stomach. It’s nothing new considering her need to fuck Len in any room I was sat in.

I kick against the door, not wanting whatever filth is on it to touch me.The bitter cunt I fell out of lays there squealing like a filthy pig as the dickhead doesn’t even pause his thrusts. They’re lost in their own world, and I don’t allow my head to dip to see his pasty ass move as I close the distance and grab his hair. My smile widens as they both scream, finally noticing someone is in the room. I tilt his head back, so he’s looking up at the ceiling. My smile continues growing as I open one up on the fucker’s throat. It covering Anika’s rancid body with blood, so I don’t have to witness it again. Her scream just makes me laugh. It’s almost poetic that she’ll be covered in blood and cum while eating ptichye moloko. After all, it’s what she did to me, the cunt.

The gurgling stops, and the dead weight drags forward. I let go of his head and laugh. She screams with his dead body covering her and I’m not going to help her.

There’s no room for argument in my bark. “Get the fuck up.”

As though it’s only just registered who I am, she turns to stone, and I can hear how fast her heart is beating. She sobs as I press the tip of the blade to the thin skin under her eye. The blood clings to her lashes, and she sobs in an attempt to save herself.

“I did what you said.”

No fucking apology or sincerity.

Leaning over her dead fuck buddy, I dig the tip of the knife under her eyeball. The thin skin slowly parts and the scream of pain is music. The best composers in history couldn’t produce anything better. Yet it doesn’t drown out the facts of everything this cunt has done.

My voice is deadly, more than anything I’ve ever produced before, as I ask, “Did I tell you to go near Vanya?”

The dumb bitch impales her own eye on my knife as her sobs increase. If she wasn’t so obsessed with fucking everything that moves, I’d be surprised she managed to procreate.But she is a whore, she is sick and twisted, a pervert, and the worst form of creature to exist because she profited off a child.

Grabbing her hair, I drag her with me, refusing to look at whatever fucking state she’s in. I’ll happily kill her and sleep easy. Seeing Anika naked is something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. My hold on her hair is tight enough that she follows as she’s dragged from under the dead fuck still bleeding out. But my swollen fingers can’t grip the strands tightly to stop her knocking into every surface. Such a shame.

Her nails dig into my already swollen hand, it will be numb soon so she can keep doing it. It all fucking ends today, I don’t give a fuck if they have a contingency to send everything to Denis, or I’ll be killed before I even manage to leave the house, it all stops because her cunt of a husband tried to kill my wife.

They took Vanya and then they tried to take Inessa too.

Anika screams as I drop her in a heap at the top of the staircase. Her mouth opens to beg but the only thing that leaves is a scream as my leg rocks back. Her hands are outstretched, eyes wide, as those screams mix with my laugh. The tumble has her spine being knocked into the sharp wooden edge of each step on her journey until she lands at the bottom.

I should have recorded the sound to be my fucking ringtone. Humming bayu bayushki, I’m nearly skipping down the steps and I’m more alert than I was with Len, allowing me to savor every bit of her anguish.I’ll remain conscious for this part, take my time, and do it slowly to cause maximum enjoyment. She won’t know anything other than pain and I’ll repay her for her motherhood.

I reach the bottom step with my shoes leaving a dull thud on the wood. They stick to the floor with the blood coating the step and I laugh louder, seeing the bitch attempt to crawl away. She’s wheezing and I help her move by kicking into her ribs. She doesn’t hit the wall as she grabs the stair post for support, her arms wrapping around it and hugging it. She would always hug me on those days, the ones I woke up thinking I was dying. It lasted six months before she got sick of doing it and didn’t drug me enough to keep me asleep. Just enough that I wouldn’t be able to fight, but I was awake. I felt everything, and I was right, I was dying. I felt pieces of myself die and I don’t recognize that child anymore.

He was stupid, weak, everything Len told him he was. But I’m not.

Anika’s forgetting the countless days she spent watching Len trying to train us and stays down. Stamping on the back of her head, anger laces my voice.

“You stand every fucking time.”

My heel hits her shoulder and the joint pops with a scream when she doesn’t move.I won’t drug her like she did to me. My torture is just. There’s no joy in a subdued opponent. But there’s no fight coming from the woman who gave birth to me. The cunt doesn’t move, and I grab her hair. She’s latched onto the wood, her head moving back as she sobs louder and fucking begs, “Please. I didn’t do anything.”

I press my foot into the center of her spine, the exact spot that holds the cards on my back and press down, making her screams elongate.

“That isn’t true, is it, Anika?” My threat holds a promise, and I might do it anyway. “Up or I will get one of the men to shove a rat up your poisonous fucking cunt.” I lean down and my voice darkens. “They will chew throughanything.”

Sobbing harder, she lets go.I’m not touching her. There’s enough filth on me to last a lifetime, enough that it has tainted the only good things I ever had from childhood to now. But she’s a sniveling fucking mess and barely able to stand.

Fucking weak cunt. Inessa was forced to fucking kneel, and her hands never once left her stomach. A queen with her head held high and true fucking strength, protecting what’s hers.Her tears are burned into my mind. The sight of them mixing with the liquid dripping off her hair, how they kept dripping into the puddle around her, the blood on her skin. And the way my wife begged when she’s a stubborn brat. She wasn’t made to beg, or to kneel, she was made to be a spoilt queen, commanding everyone around her without a single worry.

Anika continues screaming and I attempt to get her to shut the fuck up as I drag her to the kitchen. Not verbally, I punch into the back of her head, and it only dulls the sounds. The chair at the kitchen table screeches as I pull it back to drop her in it. She’s dumb as fuck and instantly tries to stand when it’s clear what I’m going to do. Her shoulder nearly crumbles under my hand as I grab it and push her back down. A pathetic whimper leaves her quivering lips, and she freezes as she notices what is sitting in the middle of the table.

She stares at the cake like it’s a snake. There has been no discussion of my childhood since I was twelve years old, it’s the knife in the room that will never be mentioned, but I don’t give a fuck anymore. Knowing she’s going to remain seated, I pull out a drawer and grab a spoon for the cunt. The wood rattles with my bones as I slam the spoon in front of her, the wood denting with the impact and the curve flattening slightly. She looks up at me, trying to garner sympathy.

“Eat your fucking cake,” I grit.

Hope fills her beady fucking eyes. Dumb cunt. She really thinks I’m going to beat her, feed her, then fuck off. She shakily picks up the utensil and I drag the edge of the container closer to her to stop my stomach convulsing. My voice is harsher, more deadly, as it booms around the house of horrors built on my back.

“Eat!”

It echoes off the tile, the stone counters, making her flinch and she slowly peels the lid back to have her last meal.

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