Page 18 of Lethal (Wellard Asylum #1)

My excitement rose as I led her away from the large tent, and closer to mine and Bash’s small, rundown trailer, with the amateur cartoon clowns I’d hand-painted on the metal exterior.

Her eyes widened as she looked around, realizing that we were utterly alone then.

I reached forward, pretending to stroke her pretty, mahogany hair, but instead, I stuck a small, hidden needle in her neck.

She stumbled forward, a scream breaking across her delectable mouth, but my gloved hand silenced her.

When she lost her balance, her eyes rolled into the back of her skull, and her small legs buckled, I picked her up and placed her inside our trailer, right in the storage space beneath my cot, but not until I tied her legs and arms together, like a prized ham for Sunday dinner.

I placed a ball gag in her mouth, and tied it tight around her face, as her eyes twitched with whatever nightmare was riding her, thanks to my strong drugs.

Then I cut her sunny yellow dress off of her body, the one with all the daisies on the front, and forced a large, black rubber anal plug inside her delectable ass, and wrapped rubber bands tightly around her breasts, until they turned a beautiful shade of puce.

I didn’t mind that she was older than me; it made it more exciting.

She was mine, and I would share her with my brother.

A special treat for us, considering we’d been doing so well lately.

I left her there and went back to my performance, lit up with joy that I would have someone to play with afterward.

The voices inside of my head congratulated me on a good choice.

She was perfect for tonight’s meal, and Bash was going to be so proud of me when I showed him.

I didn’t make any mistakes this time, so we could take our time with our meal, and savor every bit.

She was going to be perfect, a meal to remember.

Later that night, after Bash and I had driven away from the circus, heading off to our next location.

I told my brother to find us somewhere secluded to have our treat.

Bash had looked worried when I showed him what I had hidden for us, but I reassured him that this time, I had done everything right, everything he would have done.

We pulled down a long, winding road in the dark, the heavy pine trees obscuring our presence, until we found a sheltered spot.

I went and pulled my special treat from her hiding place, and she had woken up.

Her face was sweaty and covered in tears.

Her hair was all disheveled and matted around her, and her body was flushed with red blotches.

Suddenly, she didn’t look as delectable as she had before, and a sense of disappointment began to fill me.

However, Bash reassured me that I had done well, and that she would be a perfect meal, and lots of fun for the night.

That helped to cheer me up, and all the voices agreed he was right.

I threw her to the ground and tied a noose around her neck, then wrapped the end around a thick branch.

She begged behind the ball gag, but her words were mumbled at best, and I wasn’t really interested in hearing her complaints.

I wrapped her long hair around my fist and yanked her, until she was half standing, and bit into the skin between her neck and collarbone.

She was juicy, the fear adding a special spice to her flavor.

Bash came over with his favorite lighter, and pressed the shiny metal against the flesh of her back, and I watched with amusement as she screamed and cried.

Poor pretty porcelain doll, I bet she regrets coming to the circus now, looking for a fright.

The smell of sizzling flesh filled the air around us, making me incredibly hungry.

Bash insisted that we needed entertainment before we could eat, so we tied her to one of the broader tree trunks, and took turns throwing metal darts at her.

We got bored quickly with that, and decided to string her up instead.

The ropes did most of the work for us, tight around her wrists, pulling her skyward like she was some broken-winged angel in a cheap carnival play, so we could play at ease, without fear of her attempting to run away.

She screamed like the prettiest music, and cried like a cello bleeding its heart out.

I wish I could have learned an instrument, so I could have played along with her.

She was filled with talent, my porcelain doll, but I was just mediocre Wren, that no one but Bash wanted around.

I leaned forward, pressing my lips to her ear, and whispered more riddles, as I began to fill her holes with my hard cock, and used my knife to begin to peel her apart. “What has skin but no face?” “What speaks without words?” “What loves you while it eats you?” She didn’t answer those.

They never do.

It made me so sad. I had thought she was perfect.

I thought she wanted to play with me, and have fun, but all she was doing was ugly crying.

I didn’t mind her screams, though. Those made my cock so hard that I could go again and again inside of her.

I kissed both her eyelids, licking up her salty tears as an appetizer, then moved down and bit her cheek, until her skin ran red with her blood.

I used my paring knife to cut a chunk of flesh off of her arm, and heated it on a stick over the fire.

Bash helped himself to chunks of her meaty thighs, after he took turns inside of her holes.

Then each of us cut off one of her breasts, and I cooked mine with some barbecue sauce, but Bash seasoned his properly with garlic and thyme, chastising me for having the taste buds of a toddler.

All the while, my precious porcelain doll screamed until she passed out, only to reopen those brilliant green eyes, and stare at me in terror, as if I were a monster, and no longer the clown she had laughed at in the circus.

When both Bash and I were done playing with our food, and had eaten to our heart’s content, I carved her a smile wider than mine.

So she could always laugh with me, and she could understand that she belonged to me, and that I had cherished her, and would always remember her.

My precious porcelain doll is now broken, but it remains beautiful to me. ..

Then Bash came over to look at her, didn’t he? He took the last bite, didn’t he? He sliced her chest open, ripped out her beating heart, and consumed it, without giving you more than just a quick taste, the old woman croaks with malice, pulling me out of my fond memories.

“Yes,” I whisper, with rage building in my veins. I’m the oldest twin, and I deserved the last bite. She was mine .

He always gets the end. He’ll have the Doctor now too, the angry man growls.

The wind howls pitifully in the empty courtyard in agreement.

The sound rustles through the trees, as if my thoughts and memories had outraged them.

I lean my head back and laugh, until the restraints around my waist cut off my breath, as I stare up at the starry night sky, wishing I could leave Wellard once and for all.

Fresh tears stream down my cheeks, and soak into my grin.

“She’ll see. She’ll see I’m fun too,” I whisper to the wind.

Cut your name into her. Show her the rhyme. She’ll love you. They always do when they’re dead, the clown calls with praise.

I whisper into the cold stone beneath me: “What walks in bright white, but dies in red? What comes to cure, but feeds itself instead? Tick-tock, little Doctor. We’re all waiting for you to bleed.”

“Let’s go, asshole. Their time is up, and I don’t give a fuck if the good Doctor got a proper dicking.

You need to go back to your room now,” the angry guard yells from behind me, and I grimace with fury, having been so distracted that I didn’t hear him enter the courtyard.

Bash would be so disappointed if he knew I let my guard down.

I have to make sure that he never finds out.

“Coming! It’s my turn anyway, to play with my new porcelain doll.” I skip toward the wary guard, my shackles clanging along with me. “Don’t worry, I’ll play with you too soon enough, you’ll love my games.”