Fallout by Lisa Henry & M. Caspian

Author:Lisa Henry & M. Caspian [Henry, Lisa & Caspian, M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Tags: horror, thriller
Publisher: Smashwords
Published: 2015-04-17T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

“This way, bitch,” said Slider. His boots dragged through ash on the floor as he walked down the hallway toward the back rooms. Bastian lurched after him, one hand on the wall. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor.

The room Slider took him to was an office. Nothing nice. Tired old furnishings, a desk, a dented filing cabinet, and a couch. Everything was overlaid with a thin layer of ash, the whole world thin and ghostly. Bastian didn’t mind. It made sense, when nothing else did, for a nightmare to look like this. Maybe it would have been harder to take—although he couldn’t imagine how—if everything looked normal.

Slider sprawled on the couch, legs wide. He unzipped the fly on his jeans. “Climb on, bitch.”

Bastian undid his jeans with shaking fingers and pushed them off his hips. His stomach clenched. His ass did too, for the little good it did him. He didn’t want to straddle Slider. The position was strangely intimate. A part of him liked it better when they did him on his hands and knees. That way he didn’t have to watch. Didn’t have to accidentally make eye contact with the men violating him. It was easier to keep a distance that way.

Slider leant back, and tilted his pelvis up.

He had a thick, ugly cock. Big though. Big enough that he grinned at it proudly, and held it by the root as Bastian climbed onto his knees. “That’s it. Get on up here.”

It hurt. Everything hurt.

Bastian stared at a water stain on the wall behind the couch as Slider pushed inside him.

Lifted himself on his knees and sank again.

Lifted and sank.

Every movement drove a sharp sound out of him: uh uh uh, each one a strangled reply to Slider’s grunts. He held onto Slider’s shoulders, fingers digging into the leather of his vest. He let his eyes fall almost shut, his vision blurred with tears. The water stain on the wall looked like a face. There was a word for that: the way the brain interpreted random shapes and patterns as faces. That had seemed nice once, that people were always searching for meaning around them, for connections with other people. Something spiritual. But he’d been wrong; it was something primal instead, something vicious. Something in an animal’s brain that needed to see a predator in a split-second through any camouflage.

Bastian lifted and sank.

Lifted and sank.

He smelled blood.

The pain was white.

The face on the wall stared back at him while Bastian tried not to hear the words Slider spat at him. Tried not to smell his breath, or flinch when Slider slid his hands down his flank.

When Slider was done, he shoved Bastian backward onto the floor. Bastian drew his legs up. He hardly had enough energy to do it. He hardly had enough energy to keep pulling air into his lungs.

He closed his eyes, but didn’t realize he’d passed out until Red was crouched in front of him.

“Princess?” Red scrubbed his knuckles against Bastian’s cheek. “You still with me?”

Bas shivered.

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