Page 110 of Sinister Legacy
It was about a month later when he first entered my room and leashed my darkness.
Or maybe he unleashed it.
Allen was a horrible man but fuck if he knew how to humiliate and hurt me in the best way possible.
He was even so cruel as to send me to therapy for my twisted tendencies before using them against me in bed to make me crave his sickness. He loved to play mind games, and I guess I did, too.
I guess I miss the pillow over my head and the rush of the forbidden.
The lashings of his belt.
Mom looks so happy on the TV.
So unlike the shadow that drinks directly from the bottle, with her gown sliding off a bare, bony shoulder. Mom has lost a lot of weight recently. She’s gaunt, haunted, and tired.
“You’re a whore,” she whispers on the couch, not taking her eyes off the screen, and I freeze. Her head slowly turns my way, and she sneers before rising to her feet. “You’re a spoiled little brat and a fucking whore.”
I step back, breaking out in a cold sweat at the crazed look in her bloodshot eyes. Mom is beyond drunk, stumbling and swaying her way over to me.
“A greedy little whore,” she hisses, reminding me of a coiled snake. Without taking her eyes off me, she stretches her arm out behind her and clicks a button on the remote in her hand. Loud moans and the slapping of skin on skin ring out loudly.
My heart stops beating in my chest as my gaze skates over her shoulder to the screen. There I am, with my pale ass in the air and a pillow over my head, while Allen slams into me from behind, his thick thumb buried deep in my ass.
It’s not pretty.
It’s fucking ugly and depraved and sickening.
I always wondered what Allen looked like when he fucked me. Always wanted to see his face.
Now I finally do.
He looks like a monster with his face screwed up and lips peeled back.
Mom’s trembling hand flies out and connects with my cheek in a hard blow. “You fucking whore! You disgusting slut!”
She slaps me again, and I let her.
I fucked her husband.
I deserve each and every blow she doles out.
At least now that she has seen him for what he really was, a predator, she can stop mourning him. But her rage and pain are aimed at me. I want to beg for forgiveness and tell her I’m sorry, but I keep the words locked firmly behind my lips. I’m not sorry. I enjoyed her husband’s dick. I enjoyed how good he felt and how he hurt me when I needed it.
I’m grateful that he kept the darkness inside me at bay, because now that he’s dead and King is gone, I don’t have a leash. No monster to stalk me and hunt me and choke me. No one to stop me from carrying on my father’s legacy.
Mom hits me one final time, breathing harshly through her nostrils before she steps back and takes a swig from her wine bottle. “I want you gone.”
Barely daring to breathe, I grow deathly still.
“You’re not my daughter. I don’t want to see your fucking face ever again. I didn’t birth a fucking whore.”
“Mom,” I whisper brokenly. “Please…”
“You have ten minutes to pack a bag and get the fuck out of my house.”
Mom’s robe has slid open, revealing a pale breast. She pulls it closed, tightening the belt before turning and giving me her back. “Don’t ever come back here.”
Swallowing thickly, I let my gaze wander back to the screen, where Allen milks his cock over my ass, his cum raining over my skin in quick squirts. I don’t even blame her for turning me away. I am a monster, and I know it.
