House of Monsters

by Penn Cassidy

Monsters… Fucking monsters. As if the ones lurking in my head weren’t enough to drive me insane, add in some real ones who seemed to want to fuck me more than eat me. What did that say about me? That I enticed the creatures of the darkness this way? That they craved my sadness and rage so deeply that they wanted to savor it, to coax it out of me, sipping it bit by bit until they drained me of it?

What a normal person would have done in this situation was get up and leave, maybe even kick out a foot at whomever broke into their house to eat them out. Except I’d never claimed to be a normal person, and to be honest…this wasn’t exactly my weirdest Saturday night.

Soon, I would know it all. I would figure out what made the sad one hurt so deeply. Soon, my twin and I would eat our fill of this woman. Soon, she would belong to us wholly and completely. Soon, Iris Cooper would finally know the true meaning of pain and terror.

The water rippled, and out of the cover of moss and reeds, came the head and shoulders of a…man. Or something that looked like a man. I scrambled back a bit, yet didn’t make a move to run away. His eyes pinned me in place as he moved closer. They were completely black with a small ring of green around the center, set in a face with skin that was dark and greenish, covered in patches of scales that glimmered in the light. He might otherwise have been called beautiful if he weren't so terrifying.

I couldn’t bring myself to tempt fate again so soon, even though the thought of their touch made my toes curl. What the fuck was

“Your pleasure walks hand in hand with your pain, which makes you a delicacy to savor for as long as possible. I fucked you because I crave your flesh just as much as your misery, and I plan on sampling it again.”

"Tell me why you rage inside, Iris," he cooed gently. "Tell me so I can make it all disappear."

My face was probably flushed, but it wasn’t because of Chris and his tacky suit. It was because there was a shadow monster under the table eating my pussy like it was the last meal he’d ever have.

Was he really asking me out right now? Me, the crazy woman standing in my half demolished living room wearing underwear and a ratty old T-shirt? Me, the woman whose family was murdered in the very house we stood in? Me, who hadn’t been welcoming to either of the lawyers in the slightest? Men really did have nothing but fucking audacity.

“Oh shit…oh god!” My moans were breathy and choked, and I could barely get a word out. “I’m your god now, sad one,” he rumbled as his hand moved from my bare breasts to my throat, closing around it just tight enough that it was painful but still allowing me to breathe.

“When your soul cries out for absolution, I will be the one that answers. Your god, your master, your undoing…”

“Let me in, sad one, and I’ll make you feel things you’ve never imagined were possible. I’ll have you begging for relief before tonight is over.”

"I have a secret," he whispered. I blinked at him, not understanding. His eyes sparkled with both mischief and pride as he lowered his lips to my ear. "Peter didn't kill himself that night, but his suffering…was exquisite."

For the first time in ten years, I felt a warmth in my belly, and it quickly spread to my chest. It took me a minute to realize what it was, because it was so foreign these days—joy. I was feeling…happiness, unbridled elation. I was smiling uncontrollably, and I never wanted it to go away.