Depraved 2

by Bryan Smith

  She did two more slow turns in the same spot as she continued to scan the area for signs of Earl. The forest was lush and dense, with lots of vegetation, dangling vines, and tall trees. It would be easy for someone stalking her to get close without being seen, but she doubted it could be done soundlessly, not even by an expert woodsman. If Earl was still advancing on her, she should be hearing those heavy boots of his crunching on vines and twigs.

  But she heard nothing.

  And then, somewhere nearby, a bird twittered. She heard a flap of wings and a rustle of leaves as it took flight. The sudden noise made her suck in a breath, but by now she’d mustered enough self-control to keep from shrieking.

  The break back toward the road she’d envisioned was an understandable temptation, but there was a good chance Earl was still parked in her way. If she started moving in the opposite direction, her chances of permanently losing Earl in the woods might be pretty good. The longer he spent trying to chase her down, the greater the risk became of some other passing motorist—perhaps even a real lawman—discovering Adam’s body. At some point he would be forced to break off pursuit and get clear of the area.

  On the other hand, while she might get away from Earl if she continued deeper into the woods, she also might wind up hopelessly lost. It was too bad her phone was still in Adam’s car. She could have used its compass app to navigate her way back to civilization. Hell, she could’ve called for help. But the phone was where she’d left it—in the little tray beneath the radio.

  Somewhere out there in the woods, Earl laughed again. “I see you.”

  Daphne couldn’t help it. She shrieked.

  He could be lying, but somehow she didn’t think so. He sounded too close.

  So she took off running again.

  A crackling of vines somewhere behind her told her she had been right. Earl had been watching her and this time he might not be so nonchalant in his pursuit of her. He’d had his fun. Now he’d come after her at full-speed until he brought her down. The thought of the greasy killer getting his hands on her made Daphne’s heart pound harder and her feet move faster. This time her terror was such that she moved with a great deal less care. She tripped and fell two more times, but each time she was able to pop back up and keep moving.

  The pursuit continued. Her muscles began to feel sore as it went on and on. She was young and fit. She ran a few times every week, but usually not at a sustained all-out sprint. Soon she would hit her limit. Her body would give out. Her overworked lungs would betray her. She was no marathon runner and she was losing ground.

  And then it happened.

  She stumbled and dropped to one knee.

  Behind her—so close she could smell his rancid breath—Earl laughed again. “That’s right, darlin’. Just let it happen. Give up. You know you want to.”

  His taunts spurred her on one more time.

  She got upright and took a few wobbling steps. Tears spilled from her eyes as she staggered and tried to summon another burst of energy. But that extra jolt of adrenaline eluded her. Something hard prodded her back and made her drop to her knees, where she remained, crying non-stop and breathing hard as Earl moved into view.

  Earl pointed his gun at her face.

  That was the thing that had poked her in the back. From her kneeling position, it looked as big as a cannon. Her attention was riveted to the blackness inside the barrel. She felt like she was staring into a portal to hell.

  Earl chuckled. “Thinking about your boyfriend’s head, I bet.”

  Daphne sobbed.

  Earl kicked her in the stomach.

  Daphne gasped and fell over onto her side. The toe of his boot had connected just below her sternum and the pain was immense. She guessed Earl wouldn’t kill her fast the way he had Adam. She was an attractive girl, attired skimpily in shorts and a halter top. He would take his time with her. He would rape and brutalize her. And then kill her. And after that she would be just another dead girl thrown away in the woods, left to rot and have her flesh devoured by forest creatures. It wasn’t fair. She was meant for so much more than this. She was special. Everyone she’d ever known had told her so. Special people weren’t supposed to get slaughtered in the woods by redneck cretins.

  Earl kicked her again, making her roll onto her back. She stared helplessly up at him, tears again blurring her vision as he planted a boot against her stomach.

  He aimed the gun at her face again. “Say ‘Please don’t kill me, Earl’.”

  Daphne could only whimper.

  Earl pressed his booted foot down harder and the whimper became a rising whine. “Say it, bitch.”

  The pain was too much. She choked off the whine. “Please don’t kill me, Earl.”

  He laughed.

  And then he used his free hand to pull down his zipper.

  So he was getting right to it. Daphne knew there was no way to stop what was coming. She also knew there was nothing to be gained by begging. This monster would have his depraved way with her regardless. But she begged anyway. She couldn’t help it. With a vile violation moments away from occurring, helpless instinct overpowered pride.

  “Please…please don’t rape me. Please…”

  Earl laughed as he reached inside his open fly. “I ain’t gonna rape you, bitch. I wanna show you something.”

  Daphne figured this was more bullshit. He was just playing with her again, reveling in a bit of psychological torture. But then his hand came out of his fly, tugging his cock out with it. Daphne cringed and moaned at the sight of it. It was much larger than average, for one thing, but that wasn’t what triggered this fresh wave of revulsion. It looked like a piece of rotting meat that had been left out in the sun for days, oozing and bursting with open sores. Several white warts the size of a man’s knuckles lined its underside. One of his balls was shriveled and the other had swollen to the size of a baseball. As she stared at Earl’s diseased member in horrified wonder, she saw what looked like a maggot squirm out of one of the open sores and then promptly disappear inside another.

  Earl was watching her face and laughing.

  Daphne felt bile surge into her throat. She turned her head to the side and managed to get up on one shoulder just in time to spew a stream of scalding vomit on the ground. Earl’s boot came away from her stomach and she was able to roll over and push her torso up off the ground an instant before the next blast of puke erupted from her mouth.

  She kept heaving for a few more minutes. Her stomach was empty now, but it kept convulsing. She felt feverish and her arms were shaking. And then Earl kicked her in the ass and she cried out as she pitched forward into the puddle of vomit. She moaned in disgust and rolled onto her back, wiping the regurgitated contents of her bowels away from her face with shaking hands.

  Earl laughed. “You can see I wasn’t lying, right? I won’t rape you, but only because I can’t. Hurts too much to force this mess up inside any hole. But I can still stroke it if I do it real gentle-like.”

  He began to demonstrate.

  Daphne wanted to look away, but some sick fascination compelled her attention. Her face twisted in disgust as the shaft of Earl’s enormous diseased cock began to lengthen. As it did, some of the oozing sores opened wider and more of the little wriggling white things spilled out of the holes. One of the big white warts popped and a burst of pus spattered the ground.

  Daphne cringed. “Jesus.”

  Earl had a pained look on his face, too. “Yeah, that one hurt.”

  Daphne couldn’t fathom why the rotting thing hadn’t fallen off his body. She also wasn’t sure what manner of virulent venereal disease had infected this redneck goon. It looked like a combination of things. “Why the fuck don’t you get that treated?”

  Earl’s grimy face twisted in inexplicable sexual pleasure as he continued to tug at his oozing cock. “Don’t got no insurance.” He shuffled a little closer and his face twitched as he stared intently at her. “Yeah. Yeah. That’s it.”

  Daphne shuddered in r
evulsion. “What…what are you doing?”

  Earl groaned deep in his throat. “Gonna blow my load on your face. About the best I can do these days.”

  These words galvanized Daphne, gave her at last the necessary impetus to act. She scooted backward, pulled back a leg, and launched a foot at Earl’s cock, the tip of which was swelling as he neared orgasm. He was too into what he was doing to properly defend himself against this unexpected attack. The heel of Daphne’s shoe slammed into the base of Earl’s shaft.

  Earl howled in agony as his cock and balls exploded in a rain of blood and pus. Daphne did some screaming of her own as she watched her tormentor stagger away from her, trip over his feet, and drop his gun as he tumbled to the ground. Some of the blood and pus had struck her face and she was swiping it away furiously even as she began to struggle back to her feet.

  Once she was upright again, she glanced at the fallen redneck. He was howling and writhing on his back as he clutched at his ruined genitals. The man was no longer a threat, at least for the time being. He was in too much pain, sobbing and calling out for his momma. Daphne felt only a deep contempt. This was a murderer and a sexual predator. He had killed her best friend. The son of a bitch deserved no sympathy. She knew she should run again now that he was out of commission, but a voice in her head was telling her she should finish the job. This voice was getting louder and more insistent by the moment. She wasn’t a violent person by nature. Not once in her life had she ever seriously imagined killing another human being.

  But things were different now.

  She scooped up the gun and aimed it at his trembling face.

  He held up a hand as if to ward off the bullet. “No…please…”

  Daphne squeezed the trigger.

  Having never used a firearm in her life, she squealed in fright at the unexpected kick of the gun. It came out of her hand and landed with a thunk on the ground a few feet away. The bullet, however, had found its target, taking off the top of Earl’s head.

  His body twitched another time or two and went still.

  Daphne stared at the body in shocked silence. A big part of her couldn’t believe what she’d done. This had nothing to do with the right or the wrong of the act. The motherfucker had deserved death. No doubt about it. This feeling had more to do with an intense disbelief that she’d actually found it within herself to do this kind of violence. This experience had changed her in some irreversible, fundamental way. Until maybe twenty minutes ago, she had still been the same person she’d always been. It didn’t seem possible that changes so momentous could occur in so short a span.

  The whole rest of her life would be tainted by this in ways she could only begin to imagine. She wondered what she could possibly say to William when it came time to tell him about what had happened. He would want to know why she had been out driving in the country with Adam. And it wasn’t just William who would want to know all about the incident. She would have to tell the whole sordid story to the police. But the worst of it would probably be the part where she had to tell Adam’s friends and family about what had happened. Tears spilled from Daphne’s eyes as she contemplated the misery sure to fill her near future.

  It was all too much.

  The only thing that mattered now was getting out of these godforsaken woods and back to civilization. With that in mind, she took a look around until she had a general fix on the direction of the road. And she started walking. She’d gone maybe twenty yards by the time it occurred to her that it might have been a good idea to pick up the gun. But she didn’t seriously consider going back to retrieve it. The threat had passed. She would be safe now. She just wanted out of here and going back for the gun would needlessly delay that. Some ten minutes later she emerged through the tree line to stand by the side of the road.

  Her heart started pounding.

  She had been wrong not to go back for the gun.

  Daphne screamed as rough hands seized her.

  4.

  Jodi Lynn Baker cranked up the volume on the radio she kept on the kitchen counter, turning the knob as far as it would go in a futile effort to blot out the screams emanating from the basement. The woman had managed to dislodge her gag again and was giving her lungs a serious workout. It was annoying. Jodi had explained how making all the racket in the world wouldn’t save her. The only people who might feasibly hear her were her abductors. But the woman’s sheer terror at her predicament had made her desperate.

  But hearing the screams wasn’t all bad. It brought back memories of the way things used to be, from the time before all those army men swept through Hopkins Bend and did their bloody business there, exterminating so many of the old families. The remnants of the Baker clan had been among the lucky few to slip away before the net could close around them. They relocated to Bedford, another little town some twenty miles farther down Old Fort Road. Jodi’s family had kin in Bedford and starting over up the road a piece was an easy enough transition. A lot of the old traditions were still observed here. Many here did enjoy the sumptuous taste of human flesh. The practice was just less out in the open than it had been in Hopkins Bend, although virtually the entire populace was aware of it. Jodi had heard rumors there were even one or two dining establishments in Bedford specializing in human delicacies.

  Despite the local tolerance for their ways, it was a long while before any semblance of normality could resume for the Hopkins Bend refugees, who were wary about anything that might attract federal attention. They knew it would be necessary to adhere to the societal norms of the outside world for a time. Thus it was that more than three long years had passed since the Bakers had last tasted human flesh. But this dark period was coming to an end. The government seemed to have no further interest in tracking down Hopkins Bend survivors or investigating their activities. Jodi found this a little hard to comprehend at times, but she wasn’t complaining. Things were going back to the way the good lord intended.

  The hardwood floor creaked and Jodi glanced up from the task of chopping vegetables to see Delmont Morgan enter the kitchen. Delmont was married to Arlene Baker, one of Jodi’s cousins from the Bedford branch of the clan. The Morgans, in fact, were distant relations of the Bakers, a thing not uncommon in these parts with the way so many of the old families were intertwined. Delmont was a mountain of a man at six and a half feet tall and his big frame rippled with muscle. He had a bit of a gut from all the beer he drank, but that did nothing to diminish his appeal in Jodi’s eyes. He and Jodi had been hooking up on the side ever since her arrival in Bedford. Arlene had shortly thereafter suffered a crippling “accident”.

  Jodi felt heat in her loins as her gaze lingered on his crotch.

  Delmont looked at her and chuckled. “You wantin’ it?”

  Jodi licked her lips. “Yeah.”

  She cried out as he spun her about and kicked her legs apart. The kitchen knife was still clutched in her right hand. She thought about putting it down, but decided she might as well hold onto it. This would be done soon enough.

  About that, she was not wrong.

  Jodi braced her hands on the edge of the counter as Delmont pulled up her dress. The sound of his zipper sliding down sent a shiver of excitement through her body. She shivered again as she felt the head of his penis prodding her sex. Then she gasped as the engorged organ slammed into her. She was dripping wet, as she always was for Delmont. He grunted like an animal as he rammed into her again and again. Her arousal was so intense it made her feel faint. Her shoulders ached and her knees quivered from being pounded so hard, but she loved every second of it. Being fucked by Delmont was like being fucked by a wild beast.

  Jodi was facing a sliding glass door that opened out to the patio. It slid open as Delmont was beginning to approach orgasm. She could tell his moment of release was imminent. But now someone was about to spoil the moment.

  Sienna Baker, her younger sister, came into the kitchen and threw the door shut. It slid along its track at great speed and slammed back into the frame. />
  Jodi scowled. “What have I told you about doing that? You’ll break the damn glass someday.”

  Sienna approached the L-shaped counter. As was her custom, she was clad all in black. Today she wore a lacy black sleeveless dress, torn black stockings, and black flats. Her long, naturally blonde hair was dyed a shade of black darker than the inside of the devil’s heart. “I don’t care. I don’t care about anything.”

  Jodi grimaced.

  Her sister was a moody bitch. She remembered well what being a teenaged girl was like and so she tried not to let it get to her most of the time. She also cut her slack in consideration of all she had been through with the loss of their father and the uprooting from their hometown. Most of the time, however, Sienna didn’t choose to express her angst while watching Jodi take it from behind. She loved the girl with all her heart, but the truth was she was more than just moody—she was deeply weird.

  Take this terminally bored look on her face, for instance. It was not what you would expect from someone who had just walked in on a sex act. It was creepy. Even a smirk or snide comment would be better than this dead-eyed look of hers.

  Delmont, apparently, felt the same way. “Goddammit, you spooky bitch, you’re killin’ the mood here.””

  Sienna reached across the counter and plucked the knife from Jodi’s hand.

  “Put that down, Sienna. You hear me?”

  Now, at last, Sienna smiled. “I will in a minute. I have to do something first.”

  She extended her left forearm, turning up the meaty underside to drag the fine edge of the blade across her tender flesh. The cut was shallow and barely more than an inch long, but bright red blood flowed in a trickle to the side of her arm and dripped to the floor. Sienna immediately made another cut just below the first one. And then yet another one right below that.

  This all happened within a few seconds. As usual when Sienna did something intended to shock, there had been no chance at all to intervene.

  Jodi sighed as Delmont belatedly pulled out of her and zipped up. “Sienna…please put the knife down.”