Psychosis: Matthew Hosea FanFiction

by Marie James

  I take a step back. Things never go well when he talks about Tim.

  “I’ll never forget how much I loved him, how happy he made me. More importantly, I’ll never forget how you took him away from me.” I wince at his words.

  “That was a long time ago, Luke. I thought we’d moved past it.” I smile sweetly at him, an action that normally calms him.

  “It can be a hundred years from now, and I’ll never forget, Leia. You never forget the people you love.” He stops mere inches from me and the sight of him so close and so upset has my own heart pumping wildly.

  “It was an accident, Luke. Please, brother, don’t hurt me.” My words seem to snap him out of the grip the past still apparently has on him.

  “I’d never hurt you, Leia.” He leans in and kisses my forehead and cuts his eyes back to Matt. The evil in his eyes can be seen from a mile away.

  I follow closely behind him as he makes his way up the stairs.

  “Want me to make dinner?” I ask with as much sincerity as I can. He loves it when I take care of him. It’s something our parents never got around to when we were kids. Seems they were too busy abusing and starving us to do that sort of thing.

  “I could eat,” he says tiredly and sits down at the kitchen table.

  I stick my head in the recently restocked fridge, looking for something that will both satisfy him and hopefully make him forget about the man in the basement.

  “How about turkey and swiss paninis?” I cut my head back in his direction to wait for his answer.

  “Do we have chips and those tiny little pickles I like?”

  I grin at him, and he smiles back. “Of course.”

  The sandwich and chips worked like a charm. That combined with the late hour sent Luke up to his room to get some rest for the night. I was slightly apprehensive about going to bed with him wandering around the house, especially after that look he gave Matt, which told me he may never have plans to hurt me but Matt is fair game especially after what happened with Timothy years ago.

  He says he’s forgiven me, but he sure as hell doesn’t act like it. Timothy may have possibly been the love of my brother’s life. I was terrified that he was going to take Luke away from me. He had already started distancing himself from me. He’s all I have. He’s suffered the same abuse I have. He’s the only one who knows every sick thing our parents did to me because he too was a victim of the years of systematic abuse.

  I couldn’t have him leaving me. We were young, barely legal to drink even. When he mentioned moving in with Timothy, I was gutted, and the fact that he thought I’d be happy about having the house to myself informed me just how much distance had actually been created between us.

  I went to Timothy’s house to ask him to please not take my brother from me, and he laughed in my face and called me crazy. There’s nothing more I hate than that word. I saw red and blacked out. When I came to, Timothy’s living room was covered in blood, and it was apparent he’d been dead for some time.

  Shortly after that was when Luke insisted that I start taking medication. It also coincided with his first abduction. Until recently those exploits were kept in various abandoned warehouses around the city. Having anyone here at the house was a new revelation. One I was grateful to have discovered.

  After the kitchen is clean from our evening meal, I make my way to my room. My shower is quick and climbing into bed is just as speedy. I check the cameras one last time before closing my eyes and welcoming sleep with a huge smile on my face. My man is finally home.

  Chapter 25

  Matthew

  I come to my senses faster than I did the last time. For a split second, I think it may be because she gave me fewer drugs but then the pain hits across my face.

  I open my eyes to see the man I recognize from earlier standing in front of me. Luke. The brother of the crazy bitch. I’ve never felt so small in my life hanging from the ceiling with this man in front of me, helpless.

  “There you are, handsome.” I don’t like the sound of that at all.

  I roll my head on my shoulders and met with even greater searing pain. Being suspended from the ceiling and held in the same position for who knows how long has got to be the most painful thing I’ve ever felt.

  “What do you want from me?” I can’t help but wonder how long I’ve been out of it because my voice is almost gone.

  “I’m sure you can figure it out.” Just then I feel his hand grip my manhood.

  Oh, fuck no.

  I tense all my muscles and do my best to move away from him, but just like with Leia earlier I discover there is no way to get away from him or his probing hand.

  I’m close to begging for him to stop, but my mind changes directions, and I begin to focus my energy on trying to get my body not to respond. If I could get my hands on him I’d snap his neck in a second, but regardless of how much I don’t want my body to respond; it has a mind of its own. One I apparently can’t control.

  I grind my teeth together and squeeze my eyes shut, an attempt to close down that part of myself. I can tell that it’s working some, but that only proves to be seen as a challenge to the man with wandering hands.

  “Fuck, you’re perfect.” I nearly puke when his tongue snakes out and licks my chest.

  “Get. The Fuck. Off. Of. Me.” I bite out each word, the rage barely contained.

  “Feisty little bitch, aren’t you?” He pops my balls quickly with the back of his hand, and I groan as the pain starts small then grows exponentially like the ripples of water when you drop a stone in. His method at control works like a charm. It's two-fold now because I don’t have to worry about getting an unwanted erection from his ministrations seeing as the pain in my balls is too acute.

  I raise my eyes to the ceiling, trying to will away the pain. My vision lands on my restraints. Purple, padded, leather cuffs. This bitch is obsessed with purple. I have a growing feeling I’ll hate the fucking color for the rest of my life; however short it may be. Just as I’m about to pray for forgiveness for the sins I’ve committed in life, I notice that the length of chain connected with my wrists is being held by a thick hook.

  My mind begins to race at how I can escape this pit of hell. I know my time is limited down here. That’s evident in the form of the dead man that’s merely been covered roughly with an old blanket. He’s still on the other side of the dank room, and I don’t even want to imagine how long they plan to keep him here or what Luke is capable of doing to his body.

  The sound of clanking metal draws my attention back to my abuser. I almost choke with fear as I see him lift a small but clearly sharp knife from a rolling cart. The sight of the small knife in his hand is enough to cause concern, but it’s the tray of other implements that makes my blood run cold. Knives ranging from the small one in his hand to cleaver rest near other methods of torture. I have no idea what the head contraption looking thing is for, but I’m in no hurry to find out.

  He turns back to me, the light gleaming off of the knife in his hand. At least it’s clean. What an inappropriate time to think of something so ridiculous. I’m sure I’ll be dead long before an infection can set in. Suddenly, I wish for Leia rather than this brute.

  “She doesn’t want to share you, you know?” That doesn’t surprise me. She’s done nothing but display territorial tendencies since day one.

  “So why are you here?”

  I wince when he trails the knife over my stomach, leaving a burning sting in its wake. “I’m the older brother. I don’t have to listen to what she says. Just because she’s the baby doesn’t mean she gets whatever she wants.”

  I decide to keep my mouth shut, knowing anything I say will just be met with more violence.

  He cuts me so many times the pain all begins to run together until I no longer feel the new wounds. What I can feel is my blood running down my bare legs. Suddenly I feel him step away, causing me to look in his direction. I should have kept eyes shut.

  He’s approaching me this time with a h
uge knife. I’d love to think he’s just trying to scare me, but the evidence of his demented state are carved into my body already.

  “What the fuck are you doing?!” My head turns abruptly in the direction of Leia’s screech, just in time to see her barreling at her brother full force.

  I watch as they both topple to the ground in a pile and I’m for once thankful over this territorial bitch and then immediately pissed that she took so long.

  I’m honestly amazed by her power because Luke is not a small guy. She continues to pummel his back with her fists, screaming at him for hurting me when he promised not to touch me.

  She’s behind him and doesn’t have the same viewpoint that I do. I keep my mouth shut as I watch the pool of blood grow larger around his body. He’s my biggest obstacle at this point and as sick as it is to watch someone die and not offer help; it’s my only hope of ever surviving this whole ordeal.

  Satisfied that he’s gotten his due she begins to stand and move away from him. I watch her body stiffen the second she notices all of the blood.

  “Luke!” She jumps into action and frantically turns her brother over.

  The knife that he was walking toward me with just a few moments ago is half buried in his chest. His eyes are open, and I can already see the pale gray to the skin that always accompanies death. He’s gone with no chance of revitalization.

  “What have I done? What have I done?” She repeats it over and over as she looks down at her brother.

  I jerk on my restraints while she’s distracted, but the sound pulls her thoughts from her brother and back to me. Her eyes are suddenly darker and pure evil is radiating off of her.

  “What have you done?” She seethes. I want to point out to her that she’s the one who killed her brother, but I don’t feel like the message would be well received. So I do the only thing I can think of.

  “Oh God, baby! Let me down so I can help him!” She looks from me back at her ashen brother.

  “You killed him!” She rages.

  “I can help him. Let me help him!” I plead.

  The most vicious sneer spreads across her face. “You don’t think I know what death looks like?” She’s slowly stalking toward me but gets an idea and turns back to her brother.

  I watch in horror as she places her foot on his stomach and reaches down and pulls the knife from his chest. The slurping noise it makes breaking free makes me gag. She holds it in her hand and begins the short journey back in my direction.

  “I’ve killed more people than you could ever imagine, Matt.” She turns her body slightly and jabs in the direction of Luke. “He was all I had left.”

  Before she can lunge at me, I use every ounce of power I have left in my body to raise my legs up, swing them around, and kick her. My aim is off. Rather than my feet landing on her face where I’d intended them to, I hit her in the shoulder. The force, however, is enough to knock her off balance. I watch as she falls to the floor and want to laugh at the surprised look in her eyes.

  Her shoulder takes much of the force of her fall to the floor but then her head hits the damp, dirty concrete with a satisfying smack. I wait for her to either get up or for the blood to start pooling around her injured head. Neither one come to fruition.

  Another quick look at my hands tell me if I can jerk my body weight up enough I might be able to get the chain connected to my cuffs over the hook I’m hanging from. I glance back at Leia on the floor before I close my eyes in concentration.

  After several failed attempts, I’m ready to give up, each attempt ending with me still remaining suspended over the floor with only an inch or two between it and my feet. On my final attempt though I crash to the ground. Every single part of my body screams in pain. My shoulders are hurting worse than the numerous cuts on my stomach and chest.

  I don’t stay crumpled on the floor for long, as much as I’d like to stick around and torture the shit out of this crazy woman, at the end of the day I just can’t do it. Call me morbid but I’m slightly grateful to her. If it weren’t for her violent outburst, I’d still be contending with her brother and the disgusting ways he told me he wanted to violate my body.

  I use my teeth to unclasp the leather cuff on my hands. My eyes do a quick search of the room until they land on my pants, nice and neatly folded up on the other side of the room on a shelf. After tugging them on as fast as humanly possible, I climb the stairs into the kitchen. Dixie’s whimper brings me back down only long enough to grab the handle to the tiny black cage she’s been imprisoned in. Back up the stairs, my eyes dart all over looking for a phone. They come up empty.

  I bust out of the front door of the hell I’ve been in. I nearly fall to the ground and cry at the freedom I never thought I’d find again. I can tell I’ve used just about every last ounce of reserve energy I had and then some. I don’t have a clue how deep the cuts are on my chest, and I refuse to look.

  On my knees, I look up and see a man standing on the sidewalk in front of me, clearly walking his dog. I reach my hand out to him.

  “Help me?” I collapse to the ground, and my world goes black.

  Epilogue

  Matthew

  By the time the police arrived Leia had vanished. Her car, as well as her brother’s, were both still in the driveway when the police arrived. An APB was issued and a manhunt ensued, but they never found her. What they did find two days later was a man dead in a home a few houses down from hers, and his was car gone. They suspect that’s how she got away so fast.

  I took leave from the Navy and asked for a transfer. I’m back in Tennessee with my parents waiting for that to come through. Adjustments had to be made. I no longer post everything about my life on Facebook. You can say I learned my lesson with that shit. The popularity is not worth the shit I went through. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

  “Matthew!” I hear my mom call from the other side of the house, and I wonder for a brief second if I left the damn toilet seat up again. I’ve been here almost three months and still haven’t gotten used to living with people again.

  “If I wanted a wife I would’ve kept the one I had,” I mumble to myself as I make my way to my mother.

  She’s not in the bathroom but rather on the sofa with her phone in her hand which she abruptly shoves into mine. “Is this some sort of sick joke?”

  I look down at the screen and my entire body freezes. “Thought you’d like to see a picture of your grandbaby. Congratulations Grandma, tell Matt I said hi” the message says right above a blurry sonogram picture. I nearly fall to my knees when I see who sent it.

  Princess.

  Acknowledgments

  We had so much fun making this book happen. First we’d like to thank Matthew Hosea for being such a good sport and putting up with what some days could only be called well….psychosis. He was actively involved in the entire process and more amazing than we ever could’ve asked for. (Momma Hosea if you’re reading this and you don’t approve on any level… Gina made me do it… and Matthew egged her on!!)

  This Fan Fiction is just that, fiction; it started out in one direction and ended in a totally different place as many times books do. Without an amazingly awesome handful of people and a gaggle of fans and supporters, this would’ve never come to fruition.

  Shauna Kruse, you are one of a kind and an absolute genius with what you do!! I’m regularly amazed at your skill every time I open one of your galleries. Keep being amazing!

  Kari Ayasha, thank you so much for donating your time and amazing skills with the book cover graphics!! You turned one of Shauna’s gorgeous pictures of the super handsome Matthew into something raw and dirty and incredibly perfect for our purposes.

  Finally but not least we’d like to thank Ashley Griffieth for helping up work the promoting out with all of the blogs!! You are amazing and a clear picture of exactly what we need more of in this world. Jessica Bush is the pimpiest pimper on the face of the Earth!! Thank you, lady, for all the time you’ve put into tagging and sharing!!
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