6 weeks later
I LOOK OVER AT JODIE, the blonde girl I first saw when I moved in. I was right about her being a self-harmer. She has a need to cut herself, cutting out the rotten, crimson poison of her own self-hate. She hates her parents and herself because of them. She has a very fragile mind and it only takes small triggers to have her itching at old scars; it’s fascinating to watch her mind unravel so easily. She sees sex as a way of us showing each other love. She’s desperate for someone to love her the right way and take her away from here. It only took me a week of seducing her mind to get her naked and opening up to me. Her mother envied her and used to ingrain into her that she was imperfect. Fat and ugly and not good enough, all because she was jealous of the unnatural affection the father showed their daughter. The thing she doesn’t realize about her wanting to be rescued from this place and the Doctors she believes keep her here, is that she is the one keeping herself here with her feeble, unstable mind. She will never leave here because she is still bound by the chains of her past. She can’t process, assess and move on from the sins others committed against her. She is so broken with no one to love her and help her mend, and so she will never be the girl she was, and that makes her prey to men like me and people all around her. She will always be a victim of others. There is only so much therapy can do for someone so far gone. Life is brutal for a girl with no family and issues as intense as hers.
“Are you putting on weight, Jodie? You know, the female body needs two thousand calories to function and the remainder intake just turns to fat?” I stare critically at her ass.
Her gasp is audible in the room full of people playing pool. Her friend, Isabella, looks down at her friend’s ass and smirks. Jodie’s eyes glass over with hot tears making my blood jerk a little in my veins.
Isabella is another broken idiot child. She claims to love sex and offers her body freely to anyone that shows interest. She is lying, of course. She never comes when I fuck her and I’m good at fucking little whores so the fault is on her side. I think she has elements of kink in her. Like me, I think she would get off on pain; she has the triggers that suggest she yearns for it. I haven’t explored it yet and if I do I don’t want to go too far under this roof, under the watchful eyes assessing everything I do. I’m going to use her to break Jodie and once I leave this place, push Isabella’s boundaries and see how much I can make her scream and come all at once, and mock her for it until she’s so broken she begs me to kill her.
“Her ass is fucking fine and I would love to tap that!” Rodney, the little rat hollers. He’s another hostage here. He looks like a deformed rat crossed with a streetlight. His height towers mine, and I’m tall. His face is pointed and his nose twitches when he’s concentrating. His teeth are too big for his mouth, making them protrude and dig into his bottom lip. He’s an ugly bastard with a hard on for Jodie. He had an obsession with fire, and according to Jodie, he set fire to a shelter for the homeless. No one was injured but it was a pattern that had gotten out of hand for him and they decided he needed treatment. He spent five years in prison before they declared it wasn’t the place he needed to be. I often find him lost in thought, looking at Jodie. He once told her her hair is the color of the tip of a flame, and he wanted to keep her burning. What a prick he is.
I walk over to Jodie and hook an arm around her neck, pulling her body into mine. “Don’t worry, I like a bit of meat on my meal, sweetheart. Go to my room, I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
Her face remains impassive, only the shine of her eyes showing evidence she’s humiliated, but her feet hurry to carry out my demand. She’s needy and already falling hook, line and sinker for the man I’m pretending to be to reel her in.
Isabella rolls her eyes at the retreating Jodie and licks her lips at me before sauntering off while looking over her shoulder, trying to entice me to follow.
“You know, Rodney,” I say quietly so only he can hear me, and to everyone else it looks like we’re just standing next to each other waiting for his shot on the pool table.
“Yeah, what?” he asks, curious about what I’m going to say.
“Jodie’s cunt matches the drapes. It’s bright like a naked flame and when I fist her tight fucking hole it’s like kindling, she sparks like a wild fire. The bitch screams and I wear her like a puppet.” I hold up my closed fist and laugh.
His mouth drops open and he looks around to see if anyone else heard me. When he looks back at me I smile and casually tell him it’s his shot before I leave to go ass fuck Isabella why Jodie waits for me.