Cognati: An Inferno World Novel

by Elizabeth Gray

  I pause my stirring the spaghetti sauce to place a hand over my heart. He fills me up so much inside, I feel like I could burst. Kristopher is a perfect husband. My nub begins to throb and I frown. It’s not his fault he’s so handsome and loving that I want to make love to him every hour of the day. I’ll have to work on focusing on other wifely duties, like cooking. And cleaning. And washing. Lord, there are so many stains to tend to. The throbbing goes away and so does the sting. I focus on other tasks.

  “The wood’s all chopped. I drove Pa’s car to town to pick some things up,” Kristopher says in way of greeting when he enters the house.

  My stomach tightens at seeing him. He’s wearing his usual black slacks and white button-up. Always so put together and spiffy. I can’t believe he’s actually mine.

  “Look at you,” he murmurs as he approaches, his hungry stare drinking me in. “So beautiful.”

  I melt a little at his praise. I’d begun to wonder if he hated my hair. But he smiles as he tugs at one of the jagged ends.

  “I missed my pretty girl. So much I got her a present.” He grins, boyish and adorable. “Want to see?”

  My heart flutters. A good husband brings his wife gifts. Linda never got gifts. Linda got the belt. I smile when I notice Kristopher isn’t even wearing a belt.

  “Yes,” I breathe. “I’m so excited.”

  He fishes something from his pocket and then takes my hand. “A wife needs a ring.”

  I gape at the glittery diamond. It’s the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen. “This is for me?”

  “Everything I do is for you.”

  He slides it on my finger and it fits. I can’t stop looking at it.

  “How were things while I was gone? Did Luke show up?”

  “Not yet.”

  “We’ll need to go look for him. He’s family.”

  I nod rapidly. “Of course.”

  Kristopher cups my cheek and frowns. “Something’s bothering you.”

  “No matter how much I think about the chores that need doing, I can’t stop thinking about you. I want a baby so bad and I know you’re trying to help make that happen, but my body craves yours so much. At this rate, we’ll never get pregnant.”

  He kisses my lips. “We will. You let me worry about the hard stuff. How’s the throbbing?”

  “Better, but it still happens.”

  “I’ll get creative, Karen. For now, it’ll have to do.” He takes my hand. “Turn those off and we’ll go look for Luke.”

  We walk hand in hand outside and into the woods. It’s like we’re drawn there. Like Luke. I understand his need for going there. Some things you just know. We peer over the edge of the incredibly deep hole and find our Luke there, flat on his back staring up.

  “Hi, cousin!” Kristopher calls out to him, waving. “Supper’s ready.”

  Luke sits up, grinning. “I’m starving. What are we having?”

  “My wife has made spaghetti,” Kristopher brags. “She makes the best spaghetti.”

  “I’ll be the judge,” Luke teases. “How about tossing down the rope?”

  Kristopher wraps one end of the rope around his fist and drops the other down to Luke. I hold on to Kristopher’s waist to help. He doesn’t need my help because he’s the strongest man I know. Easily, just using his muscular arms, he hoists Luke out of the pit. Once Luke’s out, he dusts off his filthy hands and darts his gaze between us.

  “You two are a fine couple. Have you fucked her yet?” He waggles his brows at Kristopher and I groan in embarrassment.

  Kristopher puffs out his chest and hugs me to him. “I have. Many times. We’re hoping for a baby soon.”

  Luke nods, running his black hands through his hair. He’ll need a bath before dinner. “Standing out here talking to me won’t get her pregnant.”

  We all laugh.

  Silly Luke.

  He was the bright, burning inferno of light we needed in our dark world. We just didn’t know it yet.

  “I’ve taken measures to help it along,” Kristopher reveals. He looks down at me to flash me a hot look that has my nub pulsating.

  “Will you share your secrets, cousin?”

  Kristopher thinks about it for a while. We both patiently await his answer. Finally, he nods. “You’ll need to learn how to be a good husband one day. I suppose I can divulge my secrets.”

  I fidget, which only makes all my sore body parts sting and throb worse.

  “Don’t worry, my love,” Kristopher says, kissing my lips. “He’s seen it all before. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  I trust him.

  Kristopher never lies to me.

  Only women do that, and I think it’s probably because we secretly like being found out by our husbands. It gives us a thrill.

  “Very well,” I say cheerfully. “Take a shower, you filthy mongrel, and then I’ll treat you all to my first supper as a wife.”

  Luke grins before sauntering off to go inside.

  Kristopher takes my hand and we walk around to the front of the house. He takes me to the front porch and stops at a mound of dirt. With his shoe, he presses a white finger back into the earth. I help him flatten the dirt by jumping up and down on the mound.

  “There. Perfect.” I beam at my brother.

  His blue eyes glitter much like the diamond on my finger. So beautiful.

  “I’m stuffed. Dinner was amazing,” Luke praises. “Your wife is a great cook.”

  Kristopher agrees and hugs me to his side. We sit in our usual places, but Luke decided to sit at the head of the table now that Pa is gone.

  “Just like that hole out there, I feel called to this place.” Luke regards us both with a serious stare.

  “I think Pa would be proud at the man you’ve become,” Kristopher tells him. “I know I am.”

  We carry on with dinner and when it’s over, I let the men eat their pie and discuss important matters regarding the homestead while I clean. Once it’s all sparkling, I wait patiently for Kristopher.

  “Ready for your lesson?” Kristopher asks Luke.

  Luke’s brown eyes flash with darkness. “I am.”

  Kristopher takes my hand and guides me into his room—our room now. We could have moved upstairs, but we didn’t. It’s a good thing too because Luke claimed he will live upstairs now. I suppose that makes him the man of the house. As long as it doesn’t interfere with me and my husband, I don’t care where he sleeps.

  “Karen, take off your dress.” Kristopher’s voice drips with authority that makes me want to obey his every word.

  “Yes, sir.” I bite on my bottom lip, loving the way my husband grows hard in his slacks.

  Slowly, I unzip my dress and let it fall to the floor. I step out of my shoes and pull off my bra.

  “Careful, lovely,” Kristopher warns. “Pull it off slowly.”

  I pull my underwear away from my body and then ease it down. Luke sucks in a sharp breath.

  “Is that a clothespin on her clit?”

  Clit. I like that word. I giggle just thinking about using it again.

  “To help with her urges,” Kristopher explains, sounding much like Pa. Pride surges through me. He’s such a wise and handsome man.

  “Urges, huh?” Luke laughs. “Damn. You two are hardcore.”

  “Language,” Kristopher chides, though the twitching of his mouth means he’s teasing. Then, to me, he nods. “Take off the clothespin.”

  I pinch the wood and whimper when it releases. Blood coats the end. Now that it’s off, it starts throbbing so hard and painfully, I think I’ll pass out. I grow woozy and my protective husband comes to my aid. He scoops me in his arms and then lays me down on the bed.

  “Her urges are getting worse,” Kristopher says, fear in his voice.

  “You better take care of her then,” Luke agrees. “Why are you making her wait anyway?”

  “To keep my seed in so we can make a baby.” Kristopher takes my hand and kisses it. “Don’t worry, lovely, I’ll
lick you to release soon.”

  “So that’s it? That’s how you keep your cum inside?” Luke asks, his brow furrowing in confusion.

  “No,” Kristopher says, shaking his head. “We actually got the idea from you. When you were packing the dirt inside Linda.” He grabs my knees and parts me open.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Then, Karen, the clever girl she is, came up with this.” Kristopher runs his fingertips over my sore flesh. “Can you grab me the shears, Luke?”

  Luke trembles as he reaches for the shiny shears sitting on the dresser. He hands them to my husband. Kristopher gently clips the threads holding me closed. If stitches can keep a garment from splitting at the seams, it only makes sense it will work on a woman. It stings when he pulls on the threads, removing them. The air cools the fiery sensation that seems to lick at me between my thighs.

  “W-What’s inside her?” Luke whispers.

  Kristopher tugs on the knot of the yellow balloon. They were left over from our birthday party. He filled it with dirt from the yard and tied off the end. Just a little squishing and molding and it fit perfectly inside, holding all the seed in where it belongs.

  “Goddamn lunatics.” Luke’s voice is gravelly, but he doesn’t seem afraid or angry. He seems proud.

  Kristopher flashes me a knowing grin. He likes that Luke’s proud too.

  “Oh no,” Kristopher says as his seed trickles out of me. “It looks like I need to do my husbandly duties.”

  “Can I watch?” Luke adjusts himself in his slacks.

  Kristopher laughs. “No, silly, the things I do with my wife are sacred. You already know how to do those things, so you don’t need a lesson. Remember, you taught us.”

  Luke pouts and we all laugh.

  And then he leaves us alone.

  Kristopher, my handsome brother and husband, mounts me. He’s gentle as he pushes into my sore, burning body. It feels good to have him fill me up rather than the balloon. As soon as our mouths meet, I feel myself getting sucked into the sweet, happy cyclone of love that is my brother.

  We meld together as one.

  Two halves of a whole becoming complete.

  An angel and her counterpart.

  Light to dark.

  As it was always meant to be.

  Balanced.

  The Lord knew what he was doing when he created us.

  * * *

  Luke

  Two years later…

  I feel invigorated.

  Alive.

  Filled with purpose.

  Visiting Mom was much needed. I said enough for the both of us. It was emotional, but it felt good to rehome her and get her into a real cemetery. The headstone may not actually belong to her, but it said “Beloved Mother” on it and the rest was too old to read. I felt like no one of this century would notice that I buried my beloved mother on top of their beloved mother.

  I flipped through Mom’s Bible, reading the words over and over again as I searched for some kind of answer from her. I found it in the last book. Book of Revelations. It gave me peace.

  As I drive down the street toward my family, my nerves buzz with life. I didn’t realize how dead I’d felt without them. Spending a few days visiting Mom was just enough to remind me that I belong here.

  The moment I pull into the driveway, I feel it.

  An ominous tone.

  It makes my skin crawl.

  I don’t like it one bit.

  I’ve barely gotten Uncle Charles’s car thrown into park before I’m stalking up toward the house. Driving was one of the many lessons Kristopher taught me over the past couple of years. We go back and forth, trying to learn as much as we can from the other. I stomp on Maude for good luck on my way to the porch. My footsteps are heavy as I clomp up the steps. I am about to open the door when I hear crying.

  Not just any crying, her crying.

  My heart clenches to the point I grow dizzy. I fling open the door, seeking her out. The little cherub screams louder when she sees me.

  “Dadadadada,” she wails, holding her hands up for me to hold her.

  I can’t tell her no and scoop her up. Her diaper is leaking and she’s sweaty from crying. “Where’s your daddy?” I ask, kissing her head.

  “Dadadadada.”

  She’s just starting to say some words. Ball. Bone. Dirt. Typical toddler stuff. I hug her to me as I listen for anything to give me an idea of what’s going on around here.

  Screams.

  Muffled and far off.

  The basement.

  It’s not like Kristopher to put Karen in the white room, but I’ve been gone several days. Who knows what sort of fuckery they’ve gotten themselves into. Those two lose a little more of their sanity each day. One day, I’ll need to deal with them.

  Today is not that day.

  “Let’s find your mommy and daddy,” I tell my sweet pea. I open the basement door and follow the sounds of Kristopher’s voice.

  He’s begging.

  Pleading.

  Sobbing.

  “What’s going on?” I call out.

  Karen is sprawled out naked near the washer, her laundry basket flipped on its side. Blood is everywhere. Like a giant pool of blood and the twins are swimming in the middle of it.

  “K-Karen,” Kristopher hisses. “She’s having the baby.”

  I worry because the first time she had a baby, it wasn’t like this. She pushed out our little blond angel and was back to cooking and cleaning the next day. Now, she lies on the floor, pale and lifeless.

  “Listen, sweetheart,” I say, kissing my dear girl. “I need to put you in the white room. So you don’t crawl around and get into trouble. Your daddy needs my help. I love you.”

  I kiss her and then deposit her into the white room, ignoring her screams. I shut and lock the door so she doesn’t escape. Rushing over to Kristopher, I try not to slip in the blood. I don’t know what to do. There’s so much of it.

  “Push, Karen. Push for me, my love.”

  Karen doesn’t push. Karen closes her eyes.

  I kneel beside him, the blood soaking my pants, and grab her hand. Cold. So cold. She’s dying. She won’t come back from this.

  “You need to go upstairs,” I say in a calm voice. “Fetch me some blankets for the baby.”

  “N-No. I’m not leaving her.”

  “I’m going to have to cut her open.” I grip his shoulder. “She’s dying.”

  He sobs, his entire body trembling. “She can’t die. She can’t die. She can’t die.”

  I stand and rush over to the cabinet where I know are some hunting supplies. I find a knife used for fileting meat and walk back over to them.

  “No,” he begs. “Please don’t. Please, Luke. Please.”

  His begs fall on deaf ears. Soon she’ll be dead and the baby might die too. Ignoring him, I press the knife into her stomach. Crimson swells and runs down between her breasts, pooling at her neck. She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. No words of protest come out.

  “I’ll do it,” he snarls, yanking the knife from me. “She’s my twin. My wife. My goddamn responsibility.”

  I nod, holding my hands up in surrender. “Hurry now.”

  He saws through her stomach past the thick layer of skin. With more finessing, he cuts open another layer inside her. He sets the knife down to insert his hand into her stomach. Blood gushes out, adding to the messy floor. With determination painting his features, he pulls the baby from her womb.

  A girl.

  He tosses me the infant and I hold it to my chest, rubbing its back as it begins to bellow. Kristopher dives his hand inside Karen again. When he pulls out another baby girl, I gasp in shock.

  Twins.

  This baby he hands to me as well. Then, he crawls over his dead wife and starts crying hysterically, hugging her to him and kissing her. His words are unintelligible. It’s sad and I’ll miss Karen, but she served us well. We’re responsible for two more girls now. My priorities have shifted. I cut th
rough their cords and then carry them over to the laundry basket. With my shoe, I tip it back over. It’s filled with towels. Perfect. I set the squirming, screaming babies inside the basket and then cover them with a towel so they’ll stay warm.

  As he mourns the loss of his other half, I take care of the newborn babies. I make sure to hide the knife, just in case. Kristopher is crying way too hard to be trusted with a sharp instrument. When I’m sure he’s going to live and not perish like his twin, I clutch his shoulder.

  “Time to say goodbye.”

  He’s catatonic.

  And I’m losing my patience.

  I can’t deal with all these screaming babies.

  Too many.

  I want to rip my hair out.

  It’s been nearly a week since we buried Karen in the middle of a patch of dandelions. I thought he’d get over it or get better, but he’s done neither. If anything, he’s worse. The life slowly drains from him.

  “Kristopher,” I bark out. “It’s time for you to get over this.”

  He turns his teary blue eyes my way. “How?”

  “You must do what you were put on this earth for.”

  “I was put on this earth with Karen to love Karen.” He shoots me a nasty look that I let slide.

  “And Karen’s daughters need love too. They need you.”

  His back straightens. “They’re twins. I know how to care for twins.” He drifts his stare to the highchair. To the one he doesn’t like. I never asked and he never told. It’s just a feeling. “I don’t know how to care for that one.”

  That one grins at me, her face messy from all the bananas she’s tried to cram in her mouth. So fucking cute. When I look back at him, his eyes have darkened with contempt.

  It’s time to sever the bond.

  “Karen always wanted to see the beach. It’s only fair her husband takes her twins to experience it.”

  He smiles. “She would have liked that.”

  “There’s plenty of money from your father. You can make a life there. Start fresh. Let them experience everything God intended them to.”

  “But then I’ll have to leave you.” He frowns. “I don’t want to leave you.”