Wrath James White presents Poisoning Eros I & II (18 page)

“Whatever.” She studied grubby fingernails that
would never come clean enough. “But I
want
to eat. Just like
you and your stupid naps. You can’t be tired. We don’t get tired
here.”

“Fair enough. What would you like to eat? Grubs?
Maggots? Rats? I haven’t seen much else.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” the girl whined.

“Because you’re being ridiculous. We can’t waste
time on nonsense. We’ve got to get out of this place.” She laughed
in spite of her fear.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Reminds me of a song by The Animals. You
know?” Gloria sang quietly, “We gotta get out of this place, if
it’s the last thing we ever do.”

Angela rolled her eyes. “Never heard of it. Must be
one of your Golden Moldies.”

“Yeah, well, not a big surprise. That group was way
before your time.”

“Do you think we ever will? Get out, I mean.”

“We have to. Right? We have to. It’s not like we
have a choice. I’m not spending an eternity in this”—she almost
said
hellhole—
“place.”

“What will it take?” Angela asked—in a rather
strange way, Gloria thought. A little introspective, as if the
question had been for herself and not her mother.

Gloria grabbed Angela’s hand. “Come on.”

“Where?”

“I have no idea. But we should keep moving. Things
have been way too quiet. Our luck’s bound to run out, especially
the farther we travel into hell.”

They passed demons and humans along the way but
managed to evade capture and not attract attention. Gloria knew it
wouldn’t last. There were just too many sadistic creatures roaming
around, and she shuddered, afraid to imagine what they might
encounter next.

Or how they’d survive.

But there had to be a way out of hell. Had to
be.

Angela abruptly stopped walking and yanked Gloria
back half a foot. “Why are we going this way?”

Gloria thought for a moment and half shrugged. “Not
too many choices.”

“Yeah, but we were safe where we were. Right? So why
leave?”

“We weren’t safe.”

“Well not exactly, but compared to the rest of the
place? It’s only going to get worse the further in we go. Why don’t
we go back?”

“Because there was nothing there, Angela. No
freedom. No escape.”

“And you think going back into hell is a way to
escape? That makes no sense!”

“You have to trust me.”

“No, I don’t! I think you’re nuts. I think maybe you
enjoy being fucked over and over again by those things.”

“Don’t be stupid. Of course I don’t!”

“Bullshit. Why else go back? You didn’t go into
heaven and why would
anyone
want to go into hell?”

“Angela—”

“No!” She yanked away from her mother’s grasp. “I’ll
bet it’s your fault I turned into that slug thing. I’ll bet if I
went by myself they would’ve let me in.”

Angela stepped back, as if repulsed by having to
share space with her mother. “Tell me,
Mother
, what kind of
deal did you make? How did you sacrifice me? You’ve done it before,
so I don’t know why this surprises me. You gave me up because you
loved drugs and
fucking
more than you loved me. So what did
you do this time?”

“Lower your voice. We’re too close.”

“Fuck you!” Angela screamed. “Fuck you fuck you fuck
you!” The girl smirked.

“Jesus,” Gloria muttered, cringing at the sound of
heavy footfalls echoing in the corridor.

“Protect me from
that
, you lying bitch.”

“What are you?” Gloria snapped. “Bipolar?”

From around the sharp corner three demons
emerged.

“Uh oh,” Angela whispered, but Gloria was sure she
saw the girl grin.

The first demon wielded a club studded with railroad
ties. He swung it at Gloria’s head and she ducked, barely escaping
the swing, and it smashed into the wall instead, now embedded in
the rock. The demon cursed her and the club and struggled to pull
it free.

“Run!” Gloria screamed, but the second demon lunged
for Angela, grabbing hold of her calves. Rows of hooks jutted from
the creature’s arms, a fishing accident gone strangely awry, and he
dragged his forearms down the length of Angela’s legs, destroying
the skin, chunks of bloody pulp sticking to the hooks. Angela
landed on her stomach, the wind knocked out of her, and she pawed
the earth trying to escape.

The third demon opened its mouth and leaned into
Gloria. She hadn’t been ready for the attack, had been watching
Angela, trying to figure out how to save her daughter. Inside the
demon’s mouth was a second mouth like a crocodile’s snout, and
beyond that a third mouth like an eel, all three filled with row
upon row of jagged razor-like teeth.

Gloria shrieked and cowered as those endless rows of
teeth swallowed her head up to her neck, hot puddles of sizzling,
acid-like saliva cauterizing her skin. The last thing she
remembered was the crunching, the chewing through her flesh and
bone as her head was severed from her shoulders.

*

Gloria woke to the fleeting memory of the man with
his head on backward, terrified for a moment until she was able to
determine after a quick check that she was again in one piece, all
of her parts in their correct place and none that did not belong to
her.

Lying on the ground, naked again, as if these
monsters had nothing better to do than steal the filthy rags she’d
managed to scrounge. Never mind the smell—despite a lack of bodily
fluids, the body retained the memory of past odors. So sweat and
exertion generated a musky, earthy, offensive aroma. And death
itself? Besides the smells of dirt and embalming fluids, Gloria’s
body emitted an offensive reek of decay. She wondered if it was
something she would ever get used to.

“Angela?” No sign of her daughter. “Angela!”

The shape huddled in the corner, curled into a fetal
position and facing the wall was most definitely not her daughter,
although Gloria had no idea who it might be. And she didn’t
care.

Until he rolled over to face her.

“Oh my God,” she sputtered. “Dad?”

He pushed himself into a standing position, pitching
forward a bit on wobbly legs. His face was grossly scarred, and
bones in his arms and legs had healed badly.

“Gloria. Dear sweet Gloria.”

She threw herself into his arms and sobbed, holding
him again, pure joy. She thought she’d never again feel his touch,
enjoy the warmth of his scratchy chin against her cheek. It had
been so long. An eternity.

“My god. Dad.” He’d died so long ago. Long before
her porn and addictions.

“But why are you here?” he asked, stroking her
hair.

“Long story.”

“It has to be a mistake.”

“Yes,” she said. “In a way. Not that I’d led a good
life. I did … things. I’m not proud of what I did with my
life.”

“I know,” he said, fingers now entwined in her hair.
“I’ve seen.”

“You have?” She tried to gently pull away but his
fingers were snarled, and he didn’t seem to be letting go.

“Sure. They show us lots of interesting things in
hell.”

Gloria nodded, tried again to pull away. She felt
uncomfortable now but figured it was just the usual. Almost
everything in hell felt uncomfortable.

“Oh, Dad,” she said, trying to enjoy his embrace. It
had been so long since she’d seen him, and even longer since she’d
had any normal physical contact with anyone other than Angela—and
even Angela was stiff, restrained most of the time.

Still …

“Why are
you
here?” she whispered, trying
again to pull away. Again unable. Starting to panic just the
slightest.

He leaned in closer, until their naked bodies were
pressed together, until she felt his hot breath in her ear.

“You weren’t the first,” he whispered. “But you were
the best.”

“What?”

“Let’s not waste time with the psychobabble,” he
said, and then laughed, spittle flying into her hair.

She shoved him, tried to anyway, but he held tight,
possessing some bizarre strength he couldn’t possible have held in
life.

“Let go,” she whined, reduced to tears, reduced to
feeling once again like a small child, unable to protect herself.
“Please,” she begged. “Don’t.”

He forced her to her knees and followed with her,
one hand holding her wrists above her head, his other hand roaming,
fingers toying with her pussy. His tongue lapped at her breast,
teeth razing over the nipple.

She tried to fight him off, begged him to stop.

He was too strong.

“Tell me you want me,” he groaned. “Like you used
to. Say, ‘Fuck me, Daddy!’ Say it.”

“No! You never molested me!” She threw back her
head, bucked her legs. “Get off!”

“I plan to,” he laughed. He planted his knees
between her legs and forced hers apart.

“Don’t do this,” she sobbed.

His huge cock was studded with barbs that shredded
her flesh as he penetrated. She was used to agony, used to demons
fucking her with their ridiculously oversized phalluses, but she’d
never been so emotionally assaulted. Even rape by her aborted
fetuses had been somehow impersonal—faceless, nameless little
creatures. But this—this was her father, and she had no memories of
what he’d claimed he’d done to her.
You weren’t the first but
you were the best
. She only remembered a gentle, loving man who
had died way too early in her young life.

The thing crushing her pounded away, fucked her hard
while biting chunks from her breast, chewing at the soft tissue
until he’d bitten the nipple off. The hand not restraining hers
squeezed and yanked on the other breast as if trying to tear it
from her body.

He jerked as he came, spastic shuddering, legs and
ass quivering. When he pulled out, his barbed cock shredded a fresh
layer of skin from her pussy.

Gloria lay on the ground even after he released her,
even after he climbed from her trembling body. She knew the wounds
would heal. She didn’t know how easily she would be able to recover
mentally from this assault.

She crawled onto her knees, wincing in pain. The
monster standing before her stroked his cock, and it was already
growing hard again in his hands.

“You’re not my father,” she said, suddenly realizing
he couldn’t be. “My father was good. He … he wouldn’t be here.
You’re not my father!” Gloria was crying, body hitching and jerking
as it spasmed with sorrow. This was the worst thing she could
imagine. Somehow she had never expected anything this
reprehensible, never expected it to go this low. It sounded
ridiculous, but she had somehow expected that even in the inferno
there would be some standard of decency, some line they would not
cross. Incest? Child molestation? If these were not off limits then
nothing was. She felt more terrified now than she had in all her
time in hell.

“Of course I’m your father,” he said, licking his
lips. “Don’t you recognize me?”

Gloria scrambled away from him on her hands and
knees, blood pouring from between her thighs like an open faucet.
This couldn’t be her father. No one would do this to their own
child, not even in hell. But even as she said it she knew that it
was a lie. On earth there were fathers and mothers who used and
sexually abused their own children, children far more innocent than
Gloria had ever been.

“If-if you were my father—stuck in hell like I
am—you wouldn’t be rewarded. You wouldn’t be down here fucking
whoever you wanted. You’d be getting fucked. You’d be getting raped
and tortured and mutilated like me! You wouldn’t be allowed to fuck
me. They wouldn’t let you have any pleasure!”

“I’ve been here a long time, pet. I’ve paid my dues.
I’m a demon now, a minion. It’s my job to bring misery to others.
This is my occupation now, fucking whores like you.”

“Bullshit.”

‘Believe what you want,” he said, stroking his
engorged cock, avoiding the barbs. “Whatever makes you feel better.
If it helps you cope.”

He grinned. “Now come to Poppa.”

“Get away from me,” she yelled, angry, afraid,
repulsed by the slobbering thing in front of her. Whatever it was,
father/demon, it was hideous.

“Get the fuck away from me!” She kicked out at him
as he reached for her. Her naked foot collided with his chest and
knocked him back.

But he wasn’t giving up that easily. “I said come
here.” He grabbed her shoulders and knocked her to the ground. He
ignored her punches and kicks and crying and pleading and easily
shoved his cock inside her again, digging deeper, pounding
fiercely.

She couldn’t fight him. More than human, he was a
demon, and he possessed a demon’s strength.

“Fine,” she snapped. “You come
here
, you
crazy cocksucker!” She wrapped her legs around his, pulling him in
even deeper. The pain was staggering, brought stars to her eyes,
his barbed cock carving her pussy into raw pulp. But she wouldn’t
give up, wouldn’t give in.

“What are you doing?” he gasped, still raping her
but more slowly now, trying to pull away from her.

“Doing?” she moaned. “I’m … fuh-fucking
you
!”

He rammed her hard, going deeper, deeper still,
until her stomach was one big cramp, until she wanted to vomit.

But she wouldn’t give up. “Yes!” she cried. “Harder!
Come on, is that all you got? Fuck me harder!”

“Shut up!” he roared, and punched her in the
mouth.

“You suck at this,” she taunted. “Even the lowliest
drug dealers could get me off.”

His fists moved so quickly she couldn’t see them,
couldn’t tell where one would land next. Her face was a bloody,
bruised mess. He pulled out of her and continued the assault,
punching and kicking until she thought she was going to black
out.

In a rage he yelled, his bellow shaking the chamber
walls.