“My dad chose you and your spawn over me!” I howled and pulled down. The blood ebbed profusely, covering the pristine floor in its thick, scarlet hue. Isabella tried to scream but instead began spluttering on her own bodily fluids. Bess clawed at her eyes, her little porcelain nails tearing at the eyeballs, obliterating them so that Isabella was blinded, her sockets now filled with a milky, jelly-like liquid, resembling an egg white. Her body began to convulse with shock, and I grabbed the knife once more pulling open the wound I had made, dragging out her intestines merrily, marvelling at how they magnificently glistened. Bess dove inside the open cavity, delighting in the gore. Her dress was full of blood and guts and, like me, the slaughter invigorated her. Though small, Bess had immeasurable strength. She emerged from the tangle of viscera holding a baby not much bigger than her. It was completely formed, so Isabella must have been ready to drop any day. It was dead now, much like its mother who lay lifeless in a pool of her own innards. I took the little corpse from Bess’ porcelain hands and ceremoniously cut the umbilical cord. For reasons unknown, I threw it into the washing machine, putting it on a boil wash, then I placed the knife into Isabella’s blood-soaked hand, feeling absolutely exhausted all of a sudden. I picked up Bess and we washed up in the kitchen sink. She playfully splashed at me, delighting in the bubbles from the soap. I took off my pajamas and rolled them into a ball and put them into a garbage bag. I walked damp and naked back to bed and hid the pyjamas at the back of my closet, but this was only a dream, so I knew none ofthis had really happened anyway. We got back into bed, and we drifted away feeling content, as did the dark-haired girl.
“Thank you,” I heard her whisper, “I know that you’ll be ready when the time comes. I hated the idea of you all when you were born, but now I realise that you are the only ones that can help me.”
Ones? I thought, as sleep coddled me, but I was too tired to ponder it further.
It was screaming and my father’s wailing that rudely woke me up the next day. I put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and blundered into the hall and Florian, Youri, my parents and the rest of the house staff were running into the kitchen looking agitated and frightened. I walked in and saw the carnage. Isabella on the floor dead, just like in my dream, her belly sliced open. I glanced at the washing machine and saw a messy red splat on the inside of the glass door.
“Why did she do this?! Why?!” my dad wailed as he fell to his knees beside her corpse, “it’s all your fault Taylor! You intimidated her didn’t you!”
“I did nothing of the sort! You told me to stay away from her, so I did. Perhaps she got cold feet and couldn’t stomach the thought of being with you for the rest of her life!” With that, my dad jumped up and slapped my mom hard across the face, leaving a glowing red mark.
“Stop it! Both of you!” shouted Youri, “thepolice are on their way, so don’t touch anything, let’s go into the den and calm down.” But I couldn’t calm down. Not now that I knew my dreams were real and I was being groomed into being a murderer by a phantom girl and a cursed doll. It couldn’t be real surely. It had to be coincidence. I went back to my room, feeling afraid. Not because I’d killed someone, but because I’d liked it. It all felt part of a bigger plan, something that needed to happen in order for this unrest to cease. I opened my closet and looked for the garbage bag, but there was nothing there. I began to laugh. Killing had made me feel alive and had evened the score by punishing them both for wanting to leave me, such a shame it had only been in my dream, but it felt so real, I could smell the tangy scent of Isabella’s spilt blood. I felt confused yet invigorated, disappointed, yet relieved.
Bess was sitting on my bedside table, just a doll, but for a split second I saw her sharp teeth grinning at me.
4 Mid teen mayhem
“It’s so peaceful here, just us,” Briar said as we sat on the steps in the shallow end of the pool. She looked so hot in a black bikini, her luxurious hair twisted on top of her head in a messy bun. We drank champagne as the night fell, and the warm breeze blew the flames of the candles I had lit that were dotted around the pool. I’d asked her to come round since mom had gone to Europe with Youri.
It had been a trying few years. Tomorrow, I would be sixteen, but this year there would be no party as there hadn’t been for the last few years. Mom and dad had gone through a particularly messy divorce, where dad had kept his word and had given her everything, moving into the beach house he’d bought for Isabella.
The police ruled Isabella’s death as a suicide since there were no fingerprints on the murder weapon apart from hers. The cameras in both the hall and the kitchen displayed the grisly act of her removing her child and hurling the blood-soaked fetus into the washing machine, before eviscerating herself and digging her nails into her own eyes as if to erase the vision of what she had just done. I knew that I had killed her in spite of the evidence. I believed that my dreams were somehow bleeding into my reality.
My fatherhad gone into a deep depression and began drinking heavily, doing copious amounts of drugs and fucking whores to try and fill the void that Isabella and his unborn child had left. But nothing erased his pain. He had passed over the running of his sports network to his second in command, Sawyer Pelligrino, an Italian stallion with an eight pack and a micro penis, bequeathing it to me when I turned eighteen to carry on his legacy. Little did he know that I had already spoken to Sawyer, and we’d drawn up another contract whereby when I hit eighteen, I would sell all of my dad’s assets to him for a couple of million, so I could move away and start my adult life someplace else, away from my parents and everything that had plagued me here.
My mom had fell into an official rebound relationship with Youri. The musclebound fool knew she didn’t really love him, but at this point, he was used to his life of opulence and if he left my mom, it would be back to working in a crappy little studio, peddling his classes. Since they were just dating, she owed him nothing. I was pretty sure he was gonna pop the question to ensure his cushy life would continue and that’s why he’s taken her to Europe. My mom no longer had her parties, in fact she had retreated from the social scene, embarrassed by the divorce and the horrific circumstances of Isabella’s death. She blamed Isabella for ruining her life and social standing. Her channel’s subscriptions though had increased tenfold, with her doing podcasts not only about health and wellbeing, but how to overcome trauma and divorce. Her devoted, brainwashed zombies lapped it up and she became a pro atturning on the waterworks to garner sympathy. Fucking hypocrite. I hated her. These days, she showed fuck all interest in me and left me to my own devices, which suited me fine.
My dreams had become full blown episodes that lasted the duration of the night, with detailed scenarios where I’d torture and kill my parents in truly inventive ways. Unashamedly, I slept with Bess every night and to be honest in the fugue of my dream state when she seemed to infiltrate the place between dreaming and lucidness, I was never sure if she was really alive or if it was my imagination. The green eyed, gothic angel I dreamt of intoxicated me and I felt drawn to her and truthfully, I found myself being sexually attracted to her, waking up on some occasions with sticky gonads. She’d told me her name was Savannah, and I knew that all of this preparation was for something monumental that was going to happen when I turned eighteen, though she was still a bit cagey when my dream-self asked her. I felt her anguish, and it filled my heart with the need to get revenge. In one of my flashbacks, I saw my dad raping her, but he looked young, not much older than me, and as more of what had happened was revealed to me, I knew that other kids’ parents had been involved, though as of yet I was still unsure who. But I wanted to get all of my own affairs in place, ready for what was coming, ready for me to disappear afterwards.
“What’s up? Are you even listening to me?” Briar said agitated, bringing me back from my tangle of jumbledthoughts.
“Huh?!” I said, hoping she wasn’t going to whine. I had enough of that with my mother. Since the tennis match incident, Briar and I had fooled around a couple of times, she gave great head, but I hadn’t actually fucked her yet. She was a bit of a slut and had a thing for stealing other girls’ boyfriends. Her body was banging and now her titties had grown even bigger and commanded the attention of the male gaze and attracted copious amounts of female jealousy. Secretly, I was still a virgin, though I gave off the vibe that I was a player. Admittedly, I was disappointed that Briar hadn’t popped her cherry with me, but I couldn’t afford to dwell on such trivialities. She was here now, and I would be feeling her warm pussy soon enough.
“I said, if you could kill anyone and get away with it, who would it be?”
“My parents without a doubt,” I replied, then instantly regretted it.
“Really? Me too. I even dream about it,” she added.
“Do you? So do I. My dreams are so realistic. I want them to hurt. I want them to feel every cut, every blow, every drop of pain,” I replied, feeling my cock getting hard at the thought of killing.
“My dreams almost seem like I’m punishing them for something,” she mused.
“Something from thepast?” I asked.
“Yes. Don’t you think that’s weird that we are having similar dreams?”
“Well, we have douches for parents, and we move in the same circles, so no, it’s probably just shared trauma,” I lied. I knew then that Briar’s parents had been involved in what had happened to Savannah.
“How would you do it?” she said, her hand moving down my trunks and grasping my ever-growing cock.
“Jury’s out on that one, but it would have to be something magnificent, not just a quick kill, something to be remembered. If I was going to be a killer, I’d want people to talk about me and tell stories to scare their kids. What’s death if it’s forgettable?”
“MMM you’re hot when you talk about killing,” Briar murmured, as she stuck her tongue down my throat. My hands moved up her divine body and undid her bra, freeing her magnificent tits. She gasped and I could feel her nipples harden. The moonlight danced on her wet skin, and I quickly got naked, my cock undulating in the water. She climbed on top of me, and I felt breathless as my cock tore through her insides.
“Fuck Caspian, your cock is so thick!” she exclaimed, as she arched her back and rode me, the water splashing against us with every thrust. Her pussy felt tight and gripped me like it didn’t want to let go. I held her waist and we kissed, tasting each other’s passion. Her blue eyes widened as she approached her orgasm, so I relaxed having been holding on, notwanting to fill her with my seed after only a couple of pumps. I felt lightheaded as my balls emptied themselves for the first time into an actual girl. I noticed that her nails were digging into my back as she screamed my name.
Trembling, we got out of the water, and I wrapped her in a fluffy towel. My legs felt like jelly, and I smiled at her. I understood now why my dad was obsessed with fucking. I put on my robe, and we held hands as we walked back into the house.
