Page 5 of Wicked Games

“Let my sister go.” The boy pleads.

“Aw come on now, how 'bout she shows us some good ol’ southern hospitality.” Wilder chuckles as he moves to stand next to me. He runs his fingers over her bare shoulder. “Ain’t dat right, chére? You wanna show us a good time?”

“N-no,” she stutters over her words. Her lip quivers as her breaths come out in brief spurts.

The man, still holding the skewer from the hot dog, inches closer to us and his daughter. I tighten my grip around the girl, staking my claim on her.The tension in the air is palpable as the man’s anger simmers. I stare him down, my eyes unwavering. “Back off,” I warn, my voice low and menacing.

The woman next to him, sensing the escalating tension, tries to diffuse the situation. “Please, let’s just calm down,” she pleads, her voice tinged with fear. “What do you want? We have little here, but we can get you whatever.” But her words fall on deaf ears as Wilder and I stand our ground.

The young boy, still protective of his sister, steps forward, his voice filled with determination. “I said let go of my sister,” he says defiantly.

I feel an inkling of respect for the boy’s courage, but I can’t let emotions cloud my judgment. “Step back, you. I’d hate for your sister to witness my brother slittin’ your lil’ throat.” I command my tone leaving no room for negotiation.

The man hesitates for a moment, his eyes darting between his daughter and the dangerous duo before him. Finally, he takes a step back, realizing the futility of trying to confront us.

With a satisfied smirk, I release my grip on the girl’s wrist. “You stay right ‘ere with me, chére. You,” I point to the woman. “Why you be treat 'er wid such disrespect?” The woman stares at me blankly. I bend down, grab the bag of chips, and brush away the dirt. “I asked you a question, bitch. You wan' dese ‘ere chips so bad. Come an get ‘em.”

The woman shakes her head, eyes narrowed but showing no sense of fear. “And I asked you what you want.” She says, boldly.

“Dis one right ‘ere is what we want,” Wilder says, leaning in to sniff the girl’s hair. “How old is you, chére?”

“Eighteen. I- I just graduated school and…I…I’m going to California next month for college.” She shakes as if she’s a scolded puppy waiting for a beating.

“Well, you can forget ‘bout dat,” Wilder smirks, as he leans in and runs his tongue up the side of her neck.

“Please,” she whimpers. “Please don’thurt me.”

“Well, it might hurt at first. But I promise it'll feel good after a while.” I say, keeping my eyes on her father and brother. “But first, we have ta take care of da rest of you. Might wanna say goodbye to your family, chére.”

“Oh God,” she cries as I inch closer to her father.

“Sorry you gon’ have ta watch this chére,” I look at her and she’s terrified. I turn back to her family. “Y’all might wanna run now, see? I do like to hunt my prey before guttin' dem.”

Chapter 4

Marlowe

This cannot be happening. Oh, my fucking God! I must be dreaming, right? This isn’t real. They aren’t real.

“Gimme dem wrists, chére. I need ta tie you up real good so you don’t run away now.” One of the masked men says.

I can hear my family screaming as they run into the woods where the other man gets ready to chase after them. “Please,” I choke out the words, my throat so dry. “Please don’t hurt them. I’ll do whatever you want. Just let them go.” Then the man ties my wrists together. There is no slack and the scratchy rope digs into my skin, and the more I try to maneuver them, the more it burns.

“You is so pretty when you beggin’,” he murmurs, his hand reaching out to stroke my face. “You gon be beggin’ for someting else later, dat’s for sure.”

My fight or flight decides it’s time to kick in and I raise my arms above my head as he moves down to tie my feet together. With all my strength, I bring them down, hitting him over the head.

“Got dammit, you little cunt.” He growls as he pushes me back onto the ground, hovers over me and he gets in my face. “You better stop before I hog-tie you and fuck you right here, instead of back at home in a nice big bed.”

I freeze.

He pulls a cloth out of his pocket, takes out a bottle, and pours the liquid all over it. “Now breathe in nice and deep. I’m not gonna let you watch us murder your family. You gonna sleep real good now, ya hear?”

His hand covers my mouth and nose with the cloth and I try not to breathe it in. I fight him, swinging my body back and forth on the ground.

My head feels heavy, my sight loses focus and everything becomes a blur. The darkness fades in.

“Good girl,” are the last words I hear before I pass out.

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