#Otis B. Driftwood

[bloodybobbysawyer]

When you feel silly.

[jokeringcutio]

Otis B. Driftwood x (f) Reader

No one asked for this. I still wrote it. DARK TALE, adult/Mature Readers Only due to themes. IT IS SPRINGTIME, SO PREPARE FOR LOTS OF BABY AND BREEDING FICS BECAUSE I DO HAVE HORMONES. Summary: A urinary tract infection has Baby and Otis take you to the hospital. You think you find a way to escape, but there's more. A nightmare scenario, so you're warned. Fandom: House of 1000 Corpses & The Devil’s Rejects Pairings: Otis B. Driftwood X Reader, Implied Baby Firefly x Reader/ Otis B. Driftwood x Baby Firefly / Otis B. Driftwood x Corpses Warnings: Urinary tract infection, Pregnancy, hospital visit, Mentioning of necrophilia, murder, dubcon and noncon.

~* ~ START ~* ~

You looked incredibly pale. Red spots were covering your cheeks, underneath your eyes. You were shivering, sweat droplets created a sheen on your skin.

“For God’s sake,” Baby said. “She’s really ill. Just give her something.”

Pain shot through your body at all times. Undeniable. Your fever was getting higher.

“I’ll have it checked,” the receptionist said from her spot behind the plastic screen. She spun slightly on the chair she was seated on, putting the little cup of urine – deftly wrapped in toilet paper by yours truly- on the desk beside her.

“Our doctor will probably want to look at you,” she then said, earning a growl from the man beside you. Otis had taken a step forward, teeth showing, but Baby had hooked her arm around his chest to pull him back. She flashed the nurse an apologetic smile. “That’s okay, right, brother?”

“It's okay,” Otis growled, reluctantly.

You winced again. “I really need to- to use,” you didn’t have to finish your sentence. The nurse gestured politely, and you rushed to the door you knew to find the ladies’ toilet behind. You’d been in there the first moment you had set foot inside the hospital. Sitting down brought no relief. It hurt. A fresh burn as you pied. You wished you could stay on here forever, but unfortunately, you had to be in the waiting area with the others. If only so Otis and Baby could keep an eye on you. After all, the two lovers and friends were in on this together and would not hesitate to maim you or do worse if they suspected you of well… anything really. You knew that Otis had been very reluctant to drive you to the hospital at all. He thought it was some kind of ploy you’d come up with to try and escape him and his crazy family.

In the truck on the way over he had made you promise not to give them away. Many times.

You were too delirious to think of running away. Not like this. You were ill and you knew it.

Hesitatingly, you pushed the door open and got out. Just in time to let another lady in. You groaned. The burning feeling in your lower abdomen increased again. Your pussy felt dry and painfully on fire. It had to be a urinary tract infection. It just had to be. You’d warned Otis so often to be mindful about hygiene but of course, he’d never listen. He wanted to take you raw, even if he was covered in blood or feces. Even if he’d just been inside of one of his dead cunts.

That you’d survived as long as you had was a bloody miracle you didn’t know you should praise the lord for.

Thanks to Baby, he finally drove the two of you over here. She managed to convince him that an infection might be potentially dangerous to you. And despite the many corpses lying about the house, the thought of adding you to his collection had miffed him. You didn’t know why. Why did he keep you around him at all? Why was he more pleased to fuck your warm and pulsing pussy than to breach your cold and dead one? What made you different from the other women in his bed?

You faked a smile when you spotted Baby and Otis among the other people in the waiting area. But just as you wanted to walk over to them, quite a feat in itself with the fever and pain you sported, the receptionist called you over.

“Miss?” she said, and you approached the desk, leaning on it for support. You brought your heated cheeks closer to the covid-screen. The little plastic protected the nurse behind it from germs.

“I can’t help to have noticed a certain gesture,” she said, looking at you pointedly. “Would you like to see our doctor by yourself?”

“Of course,” you instantly replied, all too eager to get those damned antibiotics so the pain could finally go away.

But the nurse shook her head, indicating you misunderstood her. “No, I mean, would you,” but she fell quiet when Otis suddenly loomed over you. He’d gotten up from the bench he and Baby had been seated on and had lazily walked towards you, only to wrap an arm around your waist and lean his other elbow on the counter next to yours.

“What’s this about?” he asked, cruel intent visible on his face. He wasn’t good at hiding his true nature, you thought. Probably never really had to do so before. Baby was much better at it. She could fool the whole town. Him, not likely. And suddenly it dawned on you that the nurse must have seen this as well.

Cruel boyfriend. Your mind raced.

“I was just asking your girlfriend,” and the nurse punctuated that last word deliberately to see what Otis’s reaction would be. He didn’t flinch, didn’t show any hint of it not being the case. You were his, after all. He had made it so. “If she’s on the pill.”

Now that had left you gawking. You’d been on the pill before. Before Otis captured you and your friends. Before he decided to leave just you alive.

“N-No,” you stammered.

“I see,” the nurse said, scribbling something down. She then looked up again and you felt her eyes rove over you. “Done it safely?”

“N-No,” you stammered again.

“Of course!” Otis exclaimed, a little too loudly. “I’m always safe with my girl.”

“No,” you stammered again, this time to him. You placed a hand flat against his chest. “She means if we used a rubber, you know?”

At this, Otis faltered. You could see realization dawn upon his face, the way his eyebrow darted up, and then how his lips twisted into a scowl. “That?” he nearly spat the word out, then turned to the nurse behind the counter again. “Sorry, love, but I don’t do that. I prefer to do it raw, like nature intended.”

Though the nurse’s cheeks turned slightly red, she retained a professional posture. “I see,” she curtly said. “You may be seated again. The doctor will come for you soon.”

You turned to Otis, fever eating your brain. “I need to go again,” you murmured, pain racking through your entire body. You felt like you were dying.

“Again?” Otis said, agitated. He let you go though, and you nodded, then rushed to the toilet, angry when you found it to be occupied. You bit your lip and prayed to the gods above that whoever was in there would be done soon. Otis remained drifting behind you. He kept his eyes on the toilet doors once you were in, never letting you out of his sight. He didn’t trust you. That much was obvious to anyone who was around.

~*~

“Clara, I need to speak to you,” the receptionist said, a nurse with a jaunty accent who had worked there a long time. The doctor turned to face her and raised a brow. “Yes?” she said.

“It’s about this patient,” the nurse said, and handed your file to the doctor. “Came in with suspicion of a urinary tract infection. Results came out positive. She came in with her boyfriend and his sister, all the way from a far-end ranch. But something doesn’t sit right,” the nurse said. She watched as Doctor Clara studied your file. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” she added.

The doctor nodded. “Think it to be a std?”

“Not necessarily, though we should probably check for that too,” the nurse bit her lip, then pointed at the file again. Crudely scribbled notes were at the bottom. Observations. The doctor, Clara, hadn't read them yet. Signs of alarm. Of Otis and Baby's entrance to the building, their loud remarks, the bruises the nurse had noticed on you.

“I mean the whole situation," the nurse said. "The boyfriend seems very possessive of her and the girl seems way too closed off.”

“Suspicion of domestic abuse then?” Clara softly whispered, understanding dawning in her eyes.

The nurse merely nodded.

~*~

When the doctor finally appeared at the edge of the waiting room and called your name, you were relieved to find it was a female doctor. You stood up and nearly rushed over to her, Baby and Otis on your heels and close behind.

“Hello, I’m doctor Oswald. But you can call me Clara,” the doctor said with a bright smile.

“If you could follow me,” she then hesitated and turned to look at your entourage, all eager to come in with you. “I’m sorry, I should like to speak to her alone,” Clara then said, erupting sounds of protest from both Otis and Baby.

“No, no, it’s hospital policy,” Clara lied, but your two kidnappers were too uneducated to notice. They huffed and finally, Baby took a step back.

“You’re gonna be good,” Otis said, a silent demand that hid a threat deep within. His eyes narrowed at you, a silent warning for you not to speak about what truly was going on here. You bit your lip and nodded, knowing damn well the danger of giving him and his family away. Clara didn’t miss the exchange though. She stood waiting with her arms crossed in front of her,

“Don’t be too long,” Otis then said, brushing a thumb past your lips. The dirt of the last corpse was still stuck underneath his fingernail, scraping past your parted lips. Clara observed silently, then faked another smile while she led you away from Baby and Otis’s preying eyes.

You sighed a sigh of relief once you passed the double doors into a white hallway. The air was much fresher here and it was less crowded than the waiting area. Plus, you were, for the first time in months, away from the people who had defiled you. Who made you do horrid things that even your own nightmares could never imitate.

“In here,” Clara said, she held open a door and waited until you’d taken your seat at the desk. Then she sat opposite of you. She placed her reading glasses on top of her nose.

“So, you came in here with symptoms that could indicate a urinary tract infection. We checked your urine and it will come as no surprise to you that we have found evidence of bacteria that cause these symptoms. If you like we can send it to the lab to see which bacteria are responsible,” she said whilst scribbling something down on a note in front of her. Then she looked up at you from over her glasses.

“I- er,” you hesitated, thinking of how Otis had flipped his lit against the receptionist earlier on when you’d just arrived here. He’d been ranting about money before you went to the toilet for the first time, and was still going on about not paying your medical bills by the time you came out of it. You had Baby to thank for wanting to pay for your antibiotics and wanting to pay upfront. You didn’t think it a good idea to try and push your luck. That Baby had wanted to go as far as take you to the hospital and pay for your medicine was short of a miracle. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

Clara looked at you pointedly, then looked down at her notes again and scribbled something down. “All right, so I'm going to prescribe a course of antibiotics. And you can use painkillers with that to ease the pain a little and dampen the fever. Can I just measure?”

You agreed. “Sure,” and waited for Clara to put the thermometer in your ear. She hummed displeased. “Pretty high,” she then said, and scribbled down the number. Yep. Pretty high indeed you saw. You didn’t think you’d ever gotten such a high rating before. It quite frankly scared you.

“Is there anything I can do to prevent this from happening again?” you carefully asked, thinking of all the times Otis had touched you. Could you truly prevent this from happening again?

“Well,” Clara started, pausing her writing while she looked up pensively. “There’s good hygiene, of course. Always pee after intercourse. Make sure you and your partner wash down below-”

“What if he er.. what if he doesn’t?” you carefully asked, interrupting her.

“Try and convince him?” Clara said, but something about her expression seemed to change. A doubt crept into her eyes.

You decided not to comment. Changing his mind or manners seemed improbable.

Clara took your silence as an answer in itself and shifted on her chair, looking at you sideways. “Have you had one bedpartner or more?” she then carefully asked.

“Uh…?”

She smiled kindly at that. “I’m just asking if we should check for STDs as well. You’re in a monogamous relationship?”

Here your cheeks heated up. “Uh…”

“I see,” Clara said, making another note. “Your boyfriend might have been seeing others?”

“Might?” The word spat out on its own, and you instantly sat back, pressing your hand to your lips in shame. “I mean, uh, he has. Several.”

“I see,” Clara looked at you with a gaze that said very little, then scribbled something else. “So we’ll check you for that as well.”

“No, no!” you instantly interfered, though your mind said ‘yes please’. You felt dirty, as if each and every of Otis’s touched was infected. Knowing where he had been only moments before, who wouldn't feel that way? “I mean, I’d love to know if I am clean but, you know, I don’t have any money.”

“I see,” Clara said again. Then she wrote something else down. “Is there a chance you might be pregnant?”

“I- I don’t see how that matters?” you asked, not believing your own ears. You didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want the possibility to even exist, even if your period hadn’t been around for weeks. Because just thinking about it was harsher than living in denial.

In fact, when you saw blood again for the first time in what felt like forever, you had been relieved. Happy even. You thought you might be in the clear. And those little cramps and belly aches were all due to you having to get your period again, so you told yourself. Until the symptoms got worse and you couldn't stand being a moment away from the toilet. Figures it was only due to the urinary tract infection that you bled. Otis would never have brought you here if the pain and symptoms hadn't been intervening with his routine to fuck you. He couldn't even get his cock in now. The thought brought a bitter smile to your lips. Like this, you weren't the toy he wanted. But then your body reminded you of the hurt it was going through.

Your spirits lowered and your shoulders slumped. You rested a trembling pale hand on your tummy.

“Well, it is important when it comes to the antibiotics,” Clara said, she turned to take a flyer out of a plastic box and handed it to you. “Many can harm the baby. So if there’s a chance of you being pregnant, I would need to know so we can give you something that won’t be harmful to the child.”

“Yes,” you whispered, looking surly at your own hands and refusing to look anywhere else, especially at her.

“Yes?” she said.

“There might be a chance. I mean, I don’t know," you admitted, though you hated to press the words forth, to feel them pass your lips. You hated the thought that a monster like Otis could have impregnated you. "He never, never used a....”

Your voice trailed off but you didn’t need to finish. Clara already had her notes from the nurse and already knew, though of course, you were unaware.

“We have a quick test to use for that,” Clara said, then took a look in one of the drawers of her desk. She revealed a little stick. “When was your last period?”

She placed the stick in front of her on the desk. A pregnancy test, you saw. Just the sight of it sent shivers of dread down your spine.

You muttered something.

“I’m sorry, come again?”

And you said it louder this time. The last time you had seen your monthly blood. It was too long ago. Clara’s look was one of compassion at that. “Are you scared?” she then asked.

“Terrified,” you admitted.

“How would your boyfriend react?” she then asked, and the question came out of nowhere, catching you by surprise. You felt you broke down, and thick tears started to stream down your face.

“You know you can tell me anything," Clara said, kindly but professionally. You appreciated her for it, for keeping her distance while sounding so honest and so caring. It only made matters worse, because you wanted to get out of this. You wanted to be free from Otis and the Fireflies and all of their deranged hunting and art and torture. But if you told her, would she believe you? And if she wanted to help you, could she?

They'd know, a little voice in the back of your mind said. They would know instantly that you told her. And they'd come and burn the hospital to the ground. You couldn't let that happen. "Everything you say will be between these four walls, unless you ask me to, share it with other professionals such as the police,” Clara hesitated and made sure you locked eyes with her before she continued. “I am willing to help you. And I have a feeling you’re in need of help. Am I correct?”

You nodded.

“Okay, first things first. Is he your boyfriend?” she then asked. Another surprising question. Another beat of your heart skipped.

You shook your head.

She frowned, then cocked her head. Her gaze had become sterner. “But you are living with him?”

“He is dangerous,” it came out unwanted, the words spilling like an overflowing river. “He is insane, his whole family is. I-I went missing months ago. No idea how long. Might be four months, might be three. Perhaps five or six. It feels like forever. You can look me up.” You gave your real name and watched how Clara typed it into the computer. You watched how her eyes lit up by the changing screen, how her gaze turned from stern to sympathetic.

“He did it. Well, they. All of them. They keep me on a ranch. I’m tied to his bed most of the time and he- he, god, I can’t even say it.”

“We should call the police,” Clara whispered, her fingers still bent on the keyboard.

“No,” you said, resolutely. “No.” Firmer now. “They kill people. Clara, you have no idea. They killed all of my friends. I-I am lucky, he only takes me. They kill whoever goes near them. But if you call the cops now they will know it came from you. From here. They’ll come and kill you next. And they always win.”

Clara let that sink in. “Murderers?” she whispered.

You nodded. “They call themselves Firefly. Pretend they're a family. O-Otis, the man who took me, who is with me, he, he’s a vile beast. He kills them, turns them into pieces of art. Decorates his room with them. Even uses them for- for,” you couldn’t say it.

“His sister as well?” she asked.

 “What? If he fucks her? He does. She’s not his sister. They’re friends with benefits or something. Always fucking each other. If he’s not fucking the corpses, that is.”

Clara visibly paled. “He fucks corpses?”

“Where did you think the infection came from?” you let out a shrill laugh. “Good god, one moment he’s in them, then he slides back into me. Enjoys it, he says. You see?” Your laughter fell short and you looked dejectedly at your own hands. “I can’t prevent this from happening. None of this.”

Then you looked up at her ashen face, paler by the horror she has heard.

“But I can protect you and the other nurses working here.”

Clara took her time to process your words. You watched her in silence. "He- He kept me alive," you said, whole body trembling whether due to the fever or due to your emotions. It was all too much. "God, why does he keep me alive?" Clara licked her licks slowly, then seemed to make up her mind. “This is serious,” she said.

“You believe me?” you asked, your body still trembling. You found it hard to believe the truth yourself, mostly because you didn't understand any of it. You didn't understand how you'd gotten from a nice sunny holiday with friends to being a prisoner in someone's house. You didn't understand how one moment your friends were smiling and happy, and the next they were cold and rotting. You didn't understand how your best friend had been chatting and telling jokes, and the next she'd been on Otis's bed while he thrust into her cold body before he flipped you over and took you in yours.

'So warm,' you still heard his hoarse words as he whispered them in your ear. 'Such a warm living cocksheet. It'd be a shame to make you cold like the others.' You wished he had. But by the gods, while you were alive you would keep fighting to live a little longer. You'd keep fighting till you got out of his hands and back to your real home. You realized that despite everything, you wanted to live. Clara was still looking at you and when you looked up at her, finally breaking out of your thoughts, you saw how she flashed you a small smile, then turned the computer screen toward you. On it, you saw all sorts of news articles, sporting your face. Not just yours. Your friends as well. Missing, it said. Presumed dead.

“You’re not the first victim of abuse case we’ve ever had in our waiting rooms,” she carefully whispered. “And you won’t be our last. But you are our worst. I want to rescue you.”

“You can’t,” you said, voice croaking. You rubbed your hand past your sore belly and stood up from your chair. “We’re taking too long. They’ll start to suspect something.”

“Sit down,” Clara said, her eyes boring into yours. And somehow, you did as she said. “I’m going to help you. Perhaps you won’t be safe right away, but you’re going to be free again. We'll think of something that won't endanger us, but will get you out. And soon." You looked at her in awe. It felt as if you could believe her. "But before all that,” she rose from her chair and walked to the door, then called out for one of the nurses to bring in a machine. “I just want to make sure.”

~*~

“It’s taking too damn long,” Otis said. His leg kept bobbing up and down while he ran both hands through his sleek white hair. Baby seemed just as nervous. “It’s just a quick urine check, right? What else could they possibly be talking about?”

Baby turned to him, her lips pressed into a tight line, clearly displeased. “I agree,” she said. She looked up at the clock again. Over ten minutes had passed.

“She’s run,” Otis said, groaning. “Dammit, you cunt. I told you. She faked it!”

“You’re telling me she faked her fever and her blood?” Baby scolded him, but she feared her brother might be right about the running thing. What if you had told the staff about them and what they had done?

“The police will be here any damn minute,” Otis continued whilst gritting his teeth. He curled his fingers around the fabric of his jeans, right at the knees. “Shit,” he cursed. “we should never have come here.”

Another look at the clock, then both were up on their feet. “Let’s go get her, before she can get away,” Baby agreed. They locked eyes, an unspoken agreement between them, and then they were off towards the double doors that lead to the different examination rooms.

“Hey, you cannot go there!” One of the nurses shouted. But despite not having a card to access the area, Otis managed to break the darn security system by smashing the button in, uncaring about the damage he had done. The two of them passed the doors, not to be stopped by any of the nurses who rushed after them.

“Where is she?” Otis shouted, glimpsing into the first room they came across. A different patient. Then to the next, this door was ajar. No one.

“Where is she?” he called again.

“Please,” a nurse behind him said. She tried to grab his arm but he shook it out of her grip and roughly pushed open the next door. Then he froze.

“I’m so sorry, doctor,” the nurse started, blabbering. “These two just came barging in, I tried to stop them, Oh, if you could come-”

“It’s not necessary,” Clara said, smiling up at the two intruders in the room. Baby was gazing down at you. The stern expression in her eyes faded instantly when she saw what was going on.

Otis was different. He stood frozen like a statue, hand still resting on the door and the other on the wall from where he had come barging in. His cold gaze betrayed nothing.

The loud rhythm of a beating heart filled the room.

And there, on the screen, was the first trace of what you had hoped never to be true. A child. Developing. Not quite there yet, but already recognizable as a human. You were farther in than you had thought The cold gel on your tummy was another reminder of everything that was wrong with this.

“They may stay,” Clara said, calmly, despite knowing she was looking at not one, but two murderers. “After all,” her voice was deliberately slow and low, making sure Otis would not miss it. “He is the father.”

~*~

Otis was uncharacteristically silent in the car on the way back. While you were clutching your bag of antibiotics close to your chest – Clara had given you some extra in case Otis fucked another corpse again and infected you before the police could get you out. The ultrasound images of the baby were, very fittingly, in Baby’s possession. It seemed she couldn’t stop staring at them, flipping through the few shots Clara had taken.

“Well, Mom will be proud,” she said, “She’s always been asking about grandchildren.”

Otis remained silent behind the wheel. You wondered if he truly was in the right state of mind to be driving.

“But to think after all these years it is you who will be expanding our family,” Baby clicked her tongue. “She’s gonna be delighted.”

You wanted to ask why Baby herself never had a baby before, especially with Otis. The two always seemed close. But you did not dare to ask. Instead, you bit your lip and felt how Baby placed her hand on your knee. Her eyes sparked with excitement when she looked at you.

“I think I’ll have to pick a new name now, I won’t be the baby of the family any longer,” she happily chirped.

Otis’s eyes darkened. His grip on the steering wheel increased, knuckles whitening and jaw tightening. You observed him, silently, unsure of his thoughts. Would he kill you for it? For accidentally falling pregnant? Despite it being all down to him and his vile habits of fucking you raw and often, taking delight in finishing inside of you until you overflowed.

No, don’t pick another name, baby, you thought darkly. Your hand slipped to your tummy, subconsciously protecting the life growing within. Clara had been right. There were two lives to save now. It wasn’t just you any longer. You just needed to survive a little longer and give Clara the time she needed to call the police without the trace leading back to her and the hospital staff. She promised she’d save you. She was clever. She'd come up with something.

Otis’s eyes met yours in the rearview mirror and you saw how they darkened. His lips parted. You expected a crude comment, a nasty remark, but in its stead came a warning that was perhaps even more bone-chilling than any comment you could have thought up.

“You’re gonna keep that baby, love,” he said, voice as cold as the dead corpses he kept at his house. “We’re gonna continue the Firefly dynasty one at a time.”

No, you thought. Please, God, No.

You hoped Clara would come and rescue you soon. This man was not fit to be a father. And you did not want your kids to live in a house full of corpses.

Beside you, Baby pressed a kiss against the picture of the baby and you knew your situation had officially gotten worse.

Far worse. ~*~ FIN ~*~ AN: I have had so many UTI's I HATE them. They are the worst. So this is half based on experience. I'd be scared to death if Otis ever got his hands on me I'd be getting those infections. I mean, man's not clean and safe. Worse than that would of course be to get pregnant of him. Also, feel free to hit me up with ideas/headcanons/imagine requests etc. I am currently working on a Patient Arthur Harrow x Reader Breeding Multichapter fic from moonknight, uploading a Grabber x Reader fic from Black Phone, and have a few Arthur Fleck/Joker x Reader prompts pending. But I have been ill (not uti, just regular migraine followed by the flue) and I am working on two different costume projects (YES, I will attempt a Gaga costume again. Bet most of you can guess what i am working on). I know this isn't your thing. But I'll tag you anyway because it's OTISSSS @myers-meadow Love you hun <3 I'll be writing something new and fresh for you soon again.

Not betaread, will take out mistakes later on...

[kyuoki]

Otis B. Driftwood ⛧ House Of 1000 Corpses ⛧ moodboard ⤷ Bad Religion ⛧ Godsmack

x x x | x | x x x | x | x x x

[im-his-druidess]

otis for the bingo chart👀

Hello, boo~ 💋

[tiffray]

smoking the shit that made the devil reject me

[sweeetestcurse]

Bill Moseley as Otis B. Driftwood in The Devil’s Rejects 05/??

[ethanhoewke]

if i die i die

credit: hewittswhore

[headfullofdrought]

The boogeyman is real and you found him.

[drunkbeefstudio]

[alexloveshorrormovies]

Horror movies behind the scenes also your daily dose of bill Moseley

[bloodybobbysawyer]

I am hilarious.

[jokeringcutio]

Otis B. Driftwood X (f) Reader Modern AU

Warnings: 18+, DARK, Noncon/Dubcon, Murder, corpse abuse. Slasher Fandom/Horror Fandom fic.

Fandom: House of 1000 Corpses, The Devil's Rejects and 3 From Hell.

Pairing: Otis. B. Driftwood x (f/female Identifying) Reader

Summary: You met him online in a game, and now you regret it.

AN: Surprise, Surprise @myers-meadow <3 I wrote this after our chat yesterday night. Consider it an alternative way of meeting Otis. Sweet dreams tonight.

~

A message, like any other, pinged on your screen. Candy 123, it said. You’re good at this game.

Thank you, you sent as a reply, relieved to be contacted by another female player. At least, you figured she must be a female. Most players in this game were men, but this user’s profile indicated you were talking to a girl or someone who identified as one. You’d checked it before you replied, of course. You’re pretty good yourself.

It took only a moment before a new message appeared on the screen. Want to do the next round together?

There wasn’t even any doubt. You dove straight back in.

~

Talking to Candy was fun. She seemed to be creative and very passionate about her art. She told you she lived in a nearby town and that her father worked at a gas station. She created statues in an atelier at her house. You told her you wanted to see her art, but she hesitated. Perhaps she was just shy, you thought.

Sometimes she was joined by Baby Fly, a sister, Candy had said. The two of them gathered whole teams around them in-game and together, you won the most brutal of rounds. A shame, really, that many of the players that joined in suddenly stayed away. Perhaps their real lives got too busy, you thought. And besides, a new player would join in after a while.

When summer came, and you announced you’d be bored out of your mind, Candy finally invited you over to her house to come and see her art. You’d been elated. You called your best friends and told them where you’d be headed and when. You were no fool.

You hit the road with a good feeling about this. Excitement bubbled within your belly. You were going to meet one of the tightest friends you’d made on the internet. Needless to say, you were looking forward to it so much, you weren’t scared to go to the stranger’s house. It was Candy. She’d be okay.

~

When you arrived at the house, you instantly knew something was amiss. A blonde girl opened the door, and for a moment you were relieved. This was Candy, right? But no, she shook her head and smiled at you. She was actually Baby. Candy would be coming down the stairs soon, and would you come in?

So you went in and waited with a smile.

There was an odd pungent smell within the house. One that reminded you of rot and dead mice. Your stomach clenched and turned, and you had to bite back the bile that had started to rise in your throat. You had accepted a drink from Baby, but couldn’t get yourself to drink from it. Surely, something was amiss.

Just when you thought you should better get up and go, you heard voices drifting down from the landing.

“Baby will entertain our guest till we’re ready,” a male voice said.

“I can’t wait,” another man replied. And now you knew for certain that you’d been lured into a spider’s nest. You quickly shot up from the couch and apologized, but Baby blocked the way.

“Leaving now wouldn’t be fair,” she said. Behind you, the staircase creaked. “You haven’t met Candy yet.”

You slowly turned to look over your shoulder to see a pale man at the top of the staircase. His hair was white. Albino? you thought. Or just bleached? And then he smiled a rotten smile.

The devil himself, something inside of you screamed. Getting out suddenly became vital. The feeling of pinpricks on your skin and needles of ice down your spine was enough to move you forward. You managed to get past Baby, and even succeeded in opening the door. But then large hands came upon your shoulders and you were pulled back into the house, screaming and kicking.

Baby closed the doors and you met Candy for the very first time.

~

Candy was not a girl like she had said to be. She wasn’t even your age. He told you he chose the username after a good lay in a whorehouse several miles away. Candy had been his favorite. He told you this with no shame, hands on the stained fabric on his thighs. Dried blood covered him, his jeans, and his white shirt. The one thing he hadn’t lied about had been his creative tendencies, and you were introduced to some of his art pieces.

They were horrifying.

The man took you to his bed. The stranger you had heard him talk to upstairs earlier on, and Baby helped him tie you down to it. And then he ravished your lips with his before his attention to your body slipped lower. It felt as if the sheer size of him could rip you apart. But despite his rough thrusts, you remained in one piece. For now.

Otis, as the man was called, happily explained that he lured you here to become part of one of his new expositions. He had ideas for you – oh so many! He had kept you on the back burner for a bit, not quite inviting you over until he had thought of the perfect piece of art that he could feature you in. And you silently cursed that you had ever shown him pictures of you from everyday life. He had known your looks, while he had lied about his own. He had played you well.

And now you we’re going to die.

But Otis seemed to postpone the moment of your death. Instead, he kept rummaging around the room, complained about tools that had disappeared, and showed you a few more of the mutilated corpses that he considered to be art.

He left your nether regions unclad and on display all the while, and you noticed how his eyes darted back between your legs ever so often. As if he was imagining how your intimate parts would look in one of his displays. “A flower, perhaps,” you wondered. “With the petals peeled back?”

To your own shock, you found yourself voicing your thoughts out loud. “Would he use your abused core as the center of his newest piece? Would it delight him to see it still leaking his cum?"

His eyes lit up at your words and he crawled over you. His long hair tickled your naked skin.

“Like it?” he rasped, voice hoarse and resembling a primal growl. “Love it. Devour it. Adore it.” It seemed there were not enough words to describe what that idea did to him because he started rambling above you about all the thrills he would feel to have you on display like that.

“You have such pretty thoughts,” he murmured at the end of it, eyes wild at first but softening when he locked them with yours. He brushed a finger gently down your cheek and chuckled. “You know, you are the first to think along. Like, properly give me suggestions. And I love it. Love what you ask me to do. I think I might,” and then his lips were upon yours again and you closed your eyes thinking this was it.

Hoping it would be over soon.

It never ended though.

~

It had been a game to him. A new exotic way to gain fresh specimens for his exhibition. The game console stood in the corner of the room, neatly stored underneath the television. You were one of his recent catches, now seated on the couch. But he just couldn’t get his head around it. He liked you more alive than he liked you dead. And wasn’t that quite a miracle itself?

You were dressed in one of his shirts. Baby promised to bring back some new clothes for you next time she went into the city after the ones you had arrived in had been used in one of Otis’s latest creations. You meekly obeyed each and every one of his sinful whims. Most of the time, all he seemed to want was a kiss or to be deep inside of you. He taught you new tricks and was proud of the skills you were learning. New techniques to give him pleasure. Ways to bring him to a climax even sooner.

He encouraged you to take part in his new projects by either thinking along or helping him to prepare a new piece of art. He knew it sickened you to hurt others, but he did not leave you much of a choice. Otis was violent and impulsive. He acted first and, only in some rare instances, he would regret it later. But that meant that most of the time, he would literally force your hand to cut up a body with a knife. He’d hold your wrist and guide you through it. He made you skin one of his victims and sew it into a suit. He made you paint a heart with fresh blood and had you watch him as he made love to another of his centerpieces.

It had been weeks now since you got here and even the family members seemed to have grown used to your presence. A good thing, you darkly thought while you observed your new boyfriend in silence. Soon they would let their shields down, and you would be out of here.

Bye, Bye Otis, you thought with a smile. At that precise moment, he turned to face you. Of course, he was unaware of the murderous thoughts in your mind and he stepped closer again. You heard the muffled screams from the young man tied up behind him. But Otis ignored him. He only had eyes for you.

“How about one more go before I start slicing up our new guest?” he hummed.

You spread your legs for him and leaned back on the couch. One day soon, he’d be in one of his art displays himself, you silently vowed. Then, with one thrust, he was firmly inside. Your lips parted in a gasp.

You couldn’t wait for that day to come.

[ivy475]

Sexy fucker

[minivalo666]

He so skrunkly I just wanna eat him up

[purvurs]

debil rejecks

[slasherscrybaby]

Slashers sending Y/n little cousin to the Gulag

Y/n: *dragging the slashers by the arm* Honestly what was your thinking!?

Slashers: what? He thought he was grown up and I showed him how grown up fight

Y/n: GAWDAMN IT HE WAS 7 AND YOU SENT HIM TO THE FREAKING GALUG

Slashers: I don’t know what the problem is😐he hit me first😒

Y/n: What are you 5?🤨

Slashers: No you shouldn’t be worrying about my age but, instead how to put together a funeral for the boy I painted on the wall

Y/n: I CANT TAKE YOU NO WHERE I SWEAR!!!