Your footsteps assaulted the creaking floor as you power-walked the halls of the guest house. You were in a state of disappointment, sadness, and absolute anger. Your girlfriend had just cheated on you, all because she wanted to be in the stupid porno the two of you were filming with a band of nobodies. Once you entered the living room, you snatched the keys from the bowl. You paused momentarily, spotting some cigarettes and a lighter. You snatched them too.
Your hair was messily falling along your head, your eyes red from the emotions coursing you, eyebrows knitted as you bore a menacing frown. You swung the door to the guest house open, leaving it open as you passed through hastily. Your flannel flowing like a cape with the speed of your heels. You made your way to your van, shuffling the keys in hand to get the car key ready.
"To hell with this, she can have em'," you hopped in the van, ramming the key into the ignition, starting it, "Let's see how far they get without me."
You go on as you switched into drive, stomping the pedal, "Good luck finding your own way outta here!"
You didn't manage to get very far as the weird woman, Pearl, was blocking your path. You stomped on the breaks, switching into park, jerking forward in the process, "What the —"
Your menacing gaze softened quickly. You remembered the woman's husband mentioning how she got "confused," chopping it up to dementia or something. You immediately hopped out of the car and approached the old woman.
"Are you alright?" You asked as she kept her face forward. After a few seconds, she ambled over to you, groaning against your frame as she stuffed her face in her neck. Without a thought, a vein stricken hand snaked around your body, pulling you closer to her. Initially, you were incredibly grossed out but her hand moved along your body in a way you hadn't experienced in a minute; a foreign touch. You melted into her arms as Pearl planted a filthy wet kiss to your neck. You pulled away at the feeling of her retired, cracked lips. Reality hit you.
"How come you just did that?" You asked, clamping her arms in your hands, pushing her away to increase the distance.
"I can show you what I'm capable of." Pearl spoke, dryly, her gaze low as she tugged at her gown.
You mentally gagged, "I don't — maybe we should just go find your husband."
Pearl remained still. You looked her over, peeping her other hand still behind her back. You kept mental note as she spoke, "I saw what she did to you. I would never do that to you, I would only want your touch."
Your lip involuntarily rose at the reminder of the situation you we're abandoning. You flicked your eyes to the guest house, contemplating. Pearl stepped closer. Instantly, you took a step back, the only thing keeping distance between you two were your arms, "Ma'am, please, let's get you inside."
"I know how it feels. To not be desired." Pearl whispered, her exposed hand caressing your face. You met her gaze, staring into the old woman's orbs.
"I see the tension," her hand wandered along your chest, down your belt buckle, "Let me help you release it."
There was tension. Sexual frustration. Resentment. Sadness. Anger... all of which needed to be let out.
You looked down at the woman's hand; it was undoing your belt. You let out an uncontrollable sigh at the initiation of contact, it had been so long, but you knew better. You released Pearl, swatting her hands from your unfastened belt. Hastily returning it to its original state while stumbling back, "I'm fi—"
A sharp poke to your shoulder, you looked up, letting out a pained whine, "What the fuck?!" Pearl had just stabbed you. That hidden hand now exposed coming at you will as much speed as the woman possessed. She attempted to stab you again but you caught her wrist. You squeezed it, Pearl releasing the knife as a result. With fight or flight activated and your previously mentioned tension, you shoved the elderly woman onto the ground.
Pearl let out a groan, all the gravel poking her dated body, she spoke as you towered over her, "Let it all out, on me, right here."
You were disgusted but you did as she said. You straddled her body, slashing and cutting into the woman relentlessly. You poked into her with the sharp edge so many times, with so much speed, the headlights of the van were painted red. Your flannel and hands, dyed with fleshy red stains as well. You sat atop the corpse, catching your breath.
"Ahhhhhhhh," you screamed into what was left of Pearl's face. You panted as you examined your hands, and the woman's current disposition. You felt some sort of peace from the whole ordeal. The woman was right, you just needed to release your tension. You turned your gaze to the guesthouse. You had already decided your next stop.
A gun is cocked.
You immediately face the direction of the noise to see Pearl's husband pointing a shotgun at you. His eyes are wide with shock as he breaths unnaturally, "What have you done?"
You stood up, slowly, clenching the knife. His gun following your movements, you growled through a Kubrick stare, "I gave her what she wanted."
The man's eyes filled with tears, as the gun seemingly became too heavy for him to hold any longer; he was shaking. His glare flashed between you and his deceased wife. The man's difficult breathing morphed into chuckles. You raised an eyebrow as he burst into full on laughter.
The man lowered his gun, quickly walking over to the corpse. You swiftly moved out of the way as he did. The old man spit and kicked at Pearl before returning his attention to you, "Thank you."
You nodded, not having a clue what he meant by that. The man examined the scene, specifically the van, "Where are your friends?"
"Those aren't my friends." You spoke, looking at the guesthouse.
The man nodded, "I reckon something bad happened. You were going to leave em?"
You only stared at him. Initially, you wanted to leave, put this whole mess behind you. However, the thrill of murder was calling your name. Releasing that tension was all you could think of. You shifted your eyes to the knife in hand and at the guesthouse. The man nodded, silently understanding as he looked at the guesthouse. A light from the house had come on, "Won't be long before somebody comes looking for ya."
The man stated, "You helped me, I'll help you. Name's Howard."
A smile tugged at your lips, "Y/N."
* * *
You went around the farm and guesthouse making quick work of your coworkers while Howard rid the scene of the van and Pearl. Bobby-Lynn, whom you shoved in a lake, coincidentally for her to be consumed by gators. Wayne, whom you stabbed in the barn with a pitchfork, was officially on the pedestal he desperately wanted. Maxine, whom was shot by Howard, had become a star — in hell. Jackson, whom you happily sliced the "wood" off in the basement as he was hung. Now, only one person remained, the main culprit: your soon-to-be-dead, ex-girlfriend, Lorraine.
Lorraine anxiously walked around the farm. She couldn't spot the van nor you nor anyone else for that matter. The farm had given her the creeps since y'all arrived. Despite how she felt about everyone and what she had done to you, she would die to ensure that all is well. As a good Christian woman should.
As Lorraine trekked the farm, the main house screen door opened, revealing Howard, whom stood ominously on the porch.
"Oh no," Lorraine whispered to herself, nervously clutching her oversized t-shirt.
The man looked right at her, remaining quiet. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you...," Lorraine shouted.
"What're you doing out here?" He asked.
Lorraine looked around, ghosting her fingers along her lips, "I'm looking for my-my partner..."
"Me, too." Howard answered, glancing at the farm, "You seen my wife?"
Lorraine shook her head as she shivered from the air.
"Ah, well I'm sure they'll turn up. My wife ain't , I'll have to fin' her," Howard explained, putting his hands on his hips then he noticed her shivering, "You look cold, you wanna wait inside?"
"No sir." She answered, her mind going through every possible bad thing that could happen. Young woman + creepy old man, never meshed well.
"Well if you wanna freeze to death," Howard grabbed the screen door, preparing to enter.
Lorraine's eyes were frantic, "Wait!" She reluctantly made her way inside the house.
"I'm going to do a sweep of the farm, my wife gets confused sometimes," Howard spoke as Lorraine stood anxiously in the foyer of his home. Howard went to the kitchen, Lorraine following him and she froze in her tracks, "What's that for?"
Lorraine saw him carrying a shotgun, "Gators, they get real bad 'round this time of year."
Howard prepared to exit the kitchen but he began patting his robe. He looked back at the kitchen table before rummaging a series of drawers in the kitchen, "Where the hell is it?!"
Lorraine tilted her head, eyes wandering as he searched, "Where's what?"
"My flashlight, goddamn it," Howard looked to Lorraine, "Check the basement, will ya? I'm on head upstairs."
Lorraine nodded as she made her way to the basement, Howard shouted as his steps marched on, "Down the stairs, there's a work bench, check there!"
Lorraine poked her head into the dark abyss. She looked down the stairs of the basement, taking in the darkness. She blindly reached for a light switch, there wasn't one. Lorraine realizes she's got to do this the old fashioned way, using the light from upstairs. Scratching her arm, Lorraine makes her way down, eerily slow.
Lorraine walked hastily to the work bench and searches momentarily, finding the flashlight. Quickly turning it on, she yelled as she rushed to the top of the stairs, "Found it!"
Lorraine reached for the handle of the basement door so she could exit only for it to be locked. Panic set in, Lorraine began beating on the door and wiggling the handle, "Hey, hey, open up!"
Lorraine sprinted down the basement stairs, pointing the handheld light wherever she could until she found the string to light the entire space. She found it, immediately pulling the string, revealing a frightening sight.
Lorraine's jaw dropped before she let out a guttural, damming bellow. Lorraine had found the dick-less corpse of Jackson. She covered her mouth as her breathing picked up, tears filling her eyes. Lorraine lapped the basement in a panic looking for a way out. She found a cellar door, she banged on it, "Y/N! Y/N!"
Realizing that wasn't going to help and praying you weren't gone too, she examined the basement for a tool or something to get out. She found a pickaxe. Flying to the top of the stairs, Lorraine didn't hesitate to swing at the door.
After a few swings, she managed to get through a panel in the door. Lorraine instantly, stuffed her hand and arm through, reaching for the lock. She struggled with it almost successfully opening it. Until a blunt metal object smashed her fingers twice, breaking them. Lorraine cried out in pain as she sunk down against the wall inside the basement entrance. She wailed, crying harder as she overlooked her fingers.
Footsteps could be heard, she looked towards the hole in the door, and saw Howard with his shotgun leaning upright on his shoulder. Staring menacingly into the hole at her, "Somebody please, help me!"
Howard remained silent as the screen door creaked open, he immediately turned to face the noise. He silently pointed at the hole, at Lorraine.
Lorraine exhaustedly screeched, her tears blurring her vision. "Please help me!" She blinked her tears away and Howard was out of sight. She stared frantically at the hole and her fingers.
In a matter of seconds, Howard could be heard screaming for his life. Lorraine's eyes widened as Howard was heard scuffling with whomever was attacking him. Slices were heard as items were being flung throughout the house. Pots and pans, banging, clacking went on for some time. Something was aggressively, relentlessly, hastily going in and out of large pound of flesh. A final loud thud as Howard could be heard choking on his insides until it was silent. Dead silent.
Lorraine grabbed the pickaxe, standing to her feet as she cowered in the corner. Her breathing was erratic and she was trying her hardest to calm down.
The basement door is unlocked, springing open to reveal no one.
Lorraine clenched the axe tighter as she held her broken fingers to herself. She took a small step towards the door, the floor creaking as she moved. She poked her head out of the basement to see a gutted Howard on the floor, she gagged as her eyes were swelling from the tears. Lorraine stepped into the small hallway, scanning the scene with her eyes — locking onto the door. The coast was seemingly clear.
Swiftly, she ran to the door and out —-
BANG.
Lorraine collapsed on the porch, she was sprawled in heavy red paint. Face half blown off, completely unrecognizable.
You emerged from the bottom of the stairs, leaning the shotgun on your shoulder.
You squatted beside her corpse, caressing her cheek, "I wish you didn't want to be in the movie."
You let out a sigh of relief as the cold air flew over your bloodied face. You stood up, tossing the shotgun on the porch. You reached into your pocket, taking out the cigarettes and lighter you stole earlier. You sat down on the porch stairs, eerily next to Lorraine's corpse.
You lit the cigarette, inhaling deeply. You chunk the lighter, letting the nicotine simmer in your lungs then you release.
WC: 2336
A/N: My birthday was Tuesday, so I went on a small hiatus. Anyway, we're back to regular scheduled programming! Also, thank you to everyone tuning in! Also also, smut chapter at 1000 reads?
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