Page 41 of Trick or Treat
"This is going to be fucking fun," Saint whispers as we approach the gravesite.
"She's going to sit on my fucking gun tonight. I want to see how well she can ride it." His laugh is evil, making my cock twitch as I imagine the barrel shoved in her pussy while my cock is buried down her fucking throat.
Scarlett is hunched over River's headstone, drenched from the rain and clutching a half-empty bottle of tequila, singing "Somewhere I Belong" by Linkin Park at the top of her lungs, her voice raspy from crying all day.
She has no idea that she killed River because the drugs are making it impossible for her to remember; we, however, dismembered his body. Saint and I sit on the soggy, wet grass with our guns gripped in our hands, puffing on our joints as we watch her take swig after swig from the bottle. She continues to sing, on the verge of losing her voice and her mind, unfazed by the torrential rain or thunderclaps that continue to ring around her.
We are clearly visible with each bolt of lightning that illuminates the sky, but she’s unaware of our presence because she’s not looking behind her.She can be so fucking dumb sometimes for a girl who’s so smart. That, or she just doesn't give a fuck now that River is dead. She lost the will to care about her own life, which makes her even more dangerous because now shemight even go along with our little game. Things are about to become even more interesting.
Stumbling, she drops the bottle and raises her face to the sky, allowing the rain to wipe away her tears. Saint takes a pill from his pocket, leans forward, and drops it into the bottle, both of us watching it dissolve.
Now she won't remember a thing once she sucks the rest of the alcohol down.One of these nights, we're going to stop fucking drugging her so she can remember shit. If we have to live with the shit we've done, so should she. We only do it so she doesn't go running to the cops and turn us in. But when we have her where we want her—with us—she won't need to be drugged anymore.
Another crack of thunder strikes, louder than the others, vibrating the ground we’re sitting on. Scarlett recoils, clutching the bottle as fear knocks her to the ground. She chugs the tequila and hangs her head, not realizing we are right behind her, hunger coursing through our veins. Saint grows impatient, inching closer to her with his gun drawn, ready to start the game.
Scarlett
I’m not sure how long I have been out here, but the tips of my fingers look like they have been in a bath for too long; they’re wrinkled and cold from the rain soaking my body, but I still don’t want to go home. I know River will never return, but I can’t bear the thought of leaving him.
I clutch the tequila bottle and take another sip, ignoring the slight burn that lingers after I swallow. Since my body is essentially numb, I’m no longer bothered by it. I’ve almost finished the bottle,and I can feel the alcohol coursing through my veins, fucking me up big time. I close my eyes, ignoring the chill that tickles the base of my spine and spreads quickly, almost as if someone is watching me again. Too fucked up to care, I lean back against the headstone, humming "Until The Day I Die" by Story of The Year.
Tears fall from my puffy, bloodshot eyes, but due to the rain falling and soaking my body, you can't even tell that I'm crying.Good.
In the distance, leaves rustle and twigs crack, almost as if someone is stepping on them. I keep my eyes closed, but I stop singing.If someone's there, let them come for me. Tonight, I don't care what happens to me. If they want to kill me, let them. Except for Melanie, every single person I fucking care about is gone. And let's face it, I'm sure she'll be the next one to go. If not her, then it's me. So fucking come take me!
I let out an ear-piercing scream. River's death is entirely my fault.I can feel it in my bones, but I can't explain it. Hopefully, everything will make sense one day.I swig from the bottle again, noticing a bitter taste on the back of my tongue. Ignoring it, I swish the alcohol around in my mouth like mouthwash, washing the taste away and swallowing it down.
As the storm intensifies, my vision swirls and thunder rumbles through the desolate cemetery, reverberating straight to my bones. A quick turn of my head as lightning strikes illuminated two figures just feet away from me caused me to remain seated. My body is frozen, but my heart is thudding madly, almost pounding out of my chest. My grip on the bottle of tequila slips, spilling the rest onto the soaked grass.
The two masked men emerge from the shadows, this time holding guns instead of knives, instilling a new sense of fear in me.Are they finally going to kill me? Are they going to shoot me?Question after question runs through my mind, rendering me speechless as they approach, grinning behind their masks. Their stares penetrate my skin, making me shiver and slightly panic.I know I said let them come fuck with me, but I didn't meanit.
When I do not see the man in the red mask, I’m relieved because I know the torture won’t be as heinous. Still, seeing the glistening chrome guns in their gloved hands gives me a bone-chilling shiver, and I don't like it. The man in the gleaming silver mask approaches from behind, the muzzle of his gun gliding down the back of my head and neck, tracing the curve of my spine. I shiver violently, a chill coursing through my body, penetrating my bones and causing them to ache with an unfamiliar sensation.
The man in the ghostly black mask approaches me, taking his gun and violently shoving the barrel between my lips until the muzzle touches the back of my throat, eliciting a light, involuntary gag. I back up, attempting to take a step away, but instead find myself flush against the silver monster's firm chest, embraced in his surprisingly muscular arms. The black monster smirks as he takes another step into me, closing the gap by pressing his firm, bulky body against mine, effectively sandwiching me between them. The heat from both of them engulfs me, making me hot despite the fact that I’m freezing from the rain. With the gun in my mouth, I try to breathe normally through my nose, using exercises that I've practiced with my patients at the prison.They're fucking right; this shit doesn't fucking work.
Feeling the silver monster's gun now sliding down the seam between my ass cheeks, I clench them, trying to keep him out. Even though I know he can still get in, I'm trying my best to prevent it. I sway back and forth as euphoria hits me out of nowhere.
"You feel that, trouble?" Silver says, licking the shell of my ear.
"Enjoy the trip." He’s biting at my lobe, which causes a sharp pain to shoot through me.
I know the alcohol was too much because I can feel my body becoming numb and weightless. At any moment, I’ll turn into a useless mess that they can control and manipulate however they want.
I wonder if I'll be able to remember this tomorrow. If not, this explains why I can never remember anything. They're drugging me… and that means that I must have runinto them the night River was murdered, and that's why I can't remember what happened. It all makes sense now…
"Sorry about your friend, sinner." The black monster speaks, slowly moving his gun in and out of my mouth, as if I’m sucking a dick... Even though he said he's sorry, he's still giving me a sadistic grin, but his lips look sexy as they curl and tug upward, meeting his dark, hooded eyes.
"Yeah, River, was his name?" The silver monster asks as if he does not know, which I find difficult to believe given that these men know everything about me and my friends.
I nod my head since I can't speak with the gun in my mouth. Finally, Black removes the gun. Smiling, he brings the soaked barrel to his lips and drags his pierced tongue along it, lapping up my spit with an animalistic growl, leaving me clutched in the arms of Silver.
"Want to play a little game tonight, sinner?" he asks, even though I know it's a rhetorical question.
"What if I say no?" Finding my voice and my confidence due to the heavy amount of alcohol flooding my system, I ask.
"Well, it doesn't really matter what you fucking want; let's be fucking honest. You're playing, like it or fucking not," Black bites back, a sadistic chuckle coming from deep within his chest, just as a boom of thunder rattles the ground.
"Have you ever played dodgeball?" Silver asks, whispering in my ear from behind me. I nod my head, feeling the gun digging into my ass.