DEPRAVITY: Love Depraved

by Natalie Bennett

  I removed my phone from my pocket, thinking it was a good idea to text Katie an update.

  She hadn’t wanted me to come; she said girls our age never understood us and that’s why she never left Dahlia unless she was with Mason or one of his family members. So she asked me to keep her updated.

  “Now, now, it’s much too early to be texting those boyfriends of yours,” Molly chirped, pulling the phone from my hands.

  “Give it back,” I said, reaching for it.

  “Later,” she sang, shoving it in her bra before she bounded into the kitchen.

  I watched her go, laughter spilling from the other girls after she said something I couldn’t here.

  I waited a moment to follow.

  It was best to get my phone and go. I could walk until someone from the Dahlia picked me up.

  It was already growing dark, and the temperature would drop soon. It was forecasted to snow this evening, so it was best to go now.

  Decided, I walked into the kitchen, going right up to Molly.

  “Give me my phone.”

  “Nooo, you just got here,” she grinned, dancing backwards.

  “Is it true you’re fucking Declan and Ethan?” One of the blondes asked, pouring a bag of chips into a bowel.

  “Yes.”

  The room stilled.

  “And I am not ashamed. I’m not a slut or a whore. I’ve been with two men. How many have you been with?” I added nearly word for word what Declan, Ethan and the other Andreous had coached me to say when this came up.

  I knew one of these girls would say it, so I felt it was polite to inform them first.

  “Wow, you said she was strange, not a bitch.” Another blonde snorted. I’d forgotten their names already.

  “I am not a bitch. You are a bitch.” No one told me to say that. It sounded right, though.

  I looked away from her and back at Molly, completely ignoring her reprimand for speaking that way to her friend.

  My phone was still in her bra.

  There was a fingerprint and pass-code on it I knew she couldn’t crack, Mason had ensured that.

  So I turned to leave.

  I would tell someone and they’d sort the rest of this out.

  I didn’t understand how to deal with any of this, and I didn’t feel the desire to learn.

  Katie was right.

  The Château Dahlia was the best place for girls like us.

  I didn’t think that was a bad thing.

  “What the hell? Where are you going?” Molly called.

  “Home.” As I said it I realized this was my first time ever saying that aloud to another person.

  Home.

  The Dahlia was my home.

  I heard murmuring behind me, and then Molly called out again.

  “Wait! Don’t you want to see your Dad?”

  I stopped.

  Dad.

  Slowly turning around I walked back towards the kitchen, hearing rapid footfalls and more laughter as I approached.

  When I got to the doorway, I saw the blondes had disappeared. The girl with colorful hair remained.

  “Ya’ll are messed up,” she muttered, shaking her head.

  “Where is he?” I asked Molly.

  She had my phone out trying to get into it. The beep signaled she had one more try, by now, it would have sent a theft alert to Declan, Ethan, and Mason.

  They told me they took their security and privacy seriously.

  Now I thought that was a very good thing.

  “I know I said he was out of town, I was kidding. Mom has the car today. Your Daddy’s in the basement,” she shrugged, casually pointing to the closed door I’d just walked past.

  “I’m leaving now,” I told her.

  When I turned around, I came face to face with one of the blondes; the other was by the front door.

  “You don’t wanna go see your Dad?” She reached for the doorknob; I slapped her hand away from it.

  “What the fuck?” she yelled, grabbing her hand.

  “Hold up, Helena is you for real scared of basements?” Molly laughed.

  I wasn’t scared of basements; I just didn’t like what happened in them.

  I had no need to share that with her.

  Trying to step around the blonde in front of me, she shoved me backward, reaching for the door again.

  “You know the best way to get over a fear, is to face it?” the blonde asked.

  “No.” I shoved past, shouldering her into the wall.

  The other blonde still stood in front of the door.

  I made a beeline for the stairs.

  “Where are you going now?” Molly yelled.

  Ignoring her, I continued on my way, walking at the same pace I always did.

  My heart, though, was pounding at a pace I wasn’t familiar with.

  The blondes followed me.

  Reaching the top, one wrapped her arms around my waist, trying to pull me back towards the stairs.

  “Come on, you crazy bitch,” she grunted.

  “No.”

  I pushed her, only intending to get her off me.

  She fell, hip banging into the top banister just before her body tumbled down the wooden steps.

  “Oh, my god!” The blonde that had been right behind her, screamed.

  Looking at the red stain expanding from her oddly placed head, I was reminded of Mother.

  Buddy had broken her.

  I’d just broken this girl, but I didn’t do this on purpose.

  I swallowed, my heart-rate increasing even more as girls screamed.

  The other blonde got in my face, her spittle hit my cheek.

  Without thinking much about what I was doing, I shoved her.

  Her grey eyes bulged as she flipped over the banister.

  She grabbed for the Christmas garland wrapped around it.

  The green pine snapped, crumbling to the floor below with her.

  More yelling.

  I walked down the stairs, stepping over the blonde’s body near the bottom.

  Molly screamed at me, knelt over her other friend.

  I stayed where I was.

  She went to run past me, I reached out and grabbed her by the back of her hair.

  Nails dug into the hand I hand held her with, splitting it open.

  My arms felt as if they would pop out of the sockets from the force she fought with.

  I managed to open the basement door, shoving her through it.

  She fell down too.

  I didn’t stay to watch what happened.

  After I shut her down there, muffling her scream, I slid the lock on top of the door over.

  Bolting her in like Mother used to do me.

  The colorful girl was hiding on the other side of the kitchen island, reaching for the phone she’d forgotten to grab on top of it.

  I pulled a cutting knife from the cutlery set and calmly approached her.

  “Please, please. I won’t tell anyone,” she sobbed, holding her hands up in a defensive measure.

  I didn’t understand what she would tell. I’d done nothing wrong.

  “Shh,” I pressed my pointer finger to her trembling lips, kneeling down in front of her. “I’ll make this better.”

  I grabbed her throat, pushing her head back into the base of the island.

  “Bye, bye.”

  Her mouth fell open to say something else; I shoved the knife in, clean through the back of her throat.

  Blood gurgled, flying out and hitting me in the face when she coughed.

  Seeing she was still alive, I twisted the knife out, thrusting it back in until the wood behind her prevented it from going any further.

  Her round eyes still spilled tears as the light left them.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, backing away from her.

  Cold seeped into my fingers, and my blood drenched clothes.

  My booties, not made for walking long distances, had begun to wear through on the bottom.

  Tongue sweeping acr
oss cracked lips, lungs burning with every breath; I trekked on through the dark.

  I walked, and walked, until a pair of oncoming headlights had me pausing.

  A familiar bronze sedan slowed, the window came down.

  “Helena?” Tonya’s voice floated out. “Hun, what are you doing? Get in,” she leaned across her seat and opened the door.

  Could she not see the blood all over me?

  I got in anyway, so cold my teeth chattered non-stop.

  Tonya didn’t ask any questions, turning the heat on me full blast, and making a call on her phone.

  When we arrived at the Dahlia, the gates were open.

  Tonya drove right through and right back to where Declan and Ethan were waiting.

  Before she could come to a full stop, I was out of the car and being pulled into the house.

  She and Declan exchanged a few friendly words, and then she was pulling off.

  Ethan led me to one of the dining chairs, and eased me into it.

  “What, did you do?” Declan asked, pacing back and forth. “I knew that was a bad fucking idea,” he muttered.

  Angry, he was angry.

  I knew anger well.

  “I didn’t mean to,” I whispered.

  “Didn’t mean—Helena, what the fuck did you do!”

  I shut my eyes, hiding behind my hair.

  “Is she…?” Ethan began and stopped.

  “Helena.” Declan’s hand gripped my jaw, forcing my head up. My eyes opened to look up at him, something curdling in my chest when I saw how mad he truly was.

  I hadn’t gone to hurt anyone.

  “You’re crying.” His voice sounded strange now. His hand fell away as if the feel of my skin burned him.

  “Fuck!” he yelled, walking out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

  I burrowed into myself, teeth still chattering.

  “Come on, baby girl. Let’s get you cleaned up.”Ethan stood from the chair he’d taken beside me, lifting my chilled body into his arms.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Declan

  Mason was the one who found the bodies.

  Three girls inside the pantry with a butterfly comforter overtop of them.

  I pulled it off to see what had been done; confused as fuck when I didn’t see a single stitch or fluff sticking out of any of the girls.

  “This is all the way off her M.O,” Mason noted. “Something made her do this.”

  I agreed with him completely.

  Helena wasn’t a killer. I mean she was, fucking obviously, but she didn’t go out of her way to hurt people. Not like this she didn’t.

  “Where is that girl with the loud mouth?”

  “…shit.” I left the pantry, prepared to search everywhere else in the house when a sound came from the basement.

  Mason and I looked at one another from across the kitchen.

  He reached the door first, sliding the lock over and opening it right up.

  I couldn’t even reach him before he sent Molly flying back down the stairs. She quite literally looked like she flew, from the top of the stairs straight to the hard floor at the bottom, the mallet in her hand landing with a thud beside her.

  “Really Mason, Really? Shoving girls down the stairs?”

  “It was self defense. Did you think I was going to let her hit me with a mallet because she’s a girl?”

  “A plastic mallet,” I pointed out.

  “Alright then, let me hit you with it and then we’ll see how much of a difference it makes.”

  Dickhead, I laughed aloud.

  “How the fuck do we clean this up?” I asked myself.

  “Easy, put big mouth in the trunk and then burn this sonofabitch down.”

  “Simple enough,” I said, starting down the stairs.

  When I reached Molly, she stared up at me, eyes big and round.

  “What’s this?” I glanced near the bottom of the stairs where Helena’s cellphone was, scooping it up.

  The screen had cracked, clearly having fallen down the stairs, but it was locked up.

  I had wondered why I got that goddamn theft alert.

  They came every few days when her ass tried to unlock the phone itself or it bounced around in her bag.

  I didn’t jump to the conclusion a quad of little bitches had been trying to do something she clearly didn’t like.

  Sliding the phone in my inside pocket, I looked at Molly and tisked.

  “Declan, she—.”

  “Shut the fuck up.” I grabbed her head and slammed it into the concrete floor, successfully knocking her out.

  There was a tiny blood patch on the ground when I lifted her over my shoulder, but she was still alive, for now.

  “Slamming a girl’s head into the floor? Really Declan?” Mason mocked from the top of the steps.

  “It was self defense for my sanity’s sake.”

  He shook his head at me and walked off.

  We torched the three bodies first, watching the flesh peel away from the bone, shrivel and melt until they were unrecognizable.

  The curtains, the furniture, the beds, everything and anything flammable were lit up next.

  Hungry flames did the rest, jumping from one item to the next.

  No one in the damned town would have actually come after Helena due to her ties with us, but this was helluva easier for Sheriff Martin to tell these people’s families, we even gave him and the fire Chief a cause.

  As Mason drove away from the Colonial, Molly and Helena’s chest in his trunk, I let myself feel like a goddamn prick, jackass for how I reacted when she began to cry.

  I wasn’t angry at her. She made it very hard to be mad at anything she did. We’d all known this was a distinct possibility she might get that urge to fix away from us.

  She’d been getting so good at telling Ethan or me when it happened.

  I just didn’t want to her to feel like a prisoner on the Dahlia property, but like I’d overheard Katie saying to her, it was the safest place for them.

  Unless she left with one of us, or even was around my Grandmother’s sister Tonya, it was better if she stayed there.

  It had everything she could need and whatever it didn’t we could get. This couldn’t happen again though.

  I’d been worried she did something I couldn’t fix my damn self right away. I couldn’t let anything happen to her.

  And I damn sure didn’t want to see those gorgeous eyes cry again.

  Mason, who’d let me stew for a bit finally spoke when we hit the back the road.

  “Andreou men are fucked up, we’re monsters. We embrace the dark side of us whole-heartedly. We don’t have a single ounce of shame or remorse. In return, we have a penchant for desiring women just as fucked up as we are.”

  I nodded, silently agreeing with him.

  “It sometimes feels like a curse. All the work that goes into making sure they’re mentally stable enough to go a day without you glued to their side.”

  “And is it? A curse?” I asked.

  “How could it be? Finding that one person who loves you no matter how much sick, twisted shit you do is a blessing, one I’m grateful for every day, when things get rocky between us, I remind myself of that.”

  I settled back in my thoughts for the remainder of the drive.

  I’m not sure if Helena even knew what love was, we told her we loved things about her and certain things she did, but I didn’t know if she actually knew what that feeling was.

  I intended to make her love us. To the point she couldn’t breathe without Ethan or me, but maybe it was us who needed to show her we needed her just as much.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Helena

  I think he thought I was suicidal.

  Had I been one to laugh, I would’ve done so.

  Submerged in our large soak tub, I stared up at the ceiling, hair floating around me in the warm bubbly water.

  I’d been in here so long my skin was like a wrinkled prune.

&nbs
p; Every so often Ethan would peak in to check on me.

  My eyes were closed when Declan entered. I was aware of him, though.

  I think I could pick either of them out in a line-up, blindfolded.

  “Helena,” he softly called my name.

  Opening my eyes, I saw him standing right near the side of the tub with a large fluffy towel in his hands.

  I rinsed the bubbles from my skin and hair, pulled the tub stopper, and then stood, letting help me out then wrap me up.

  He grabbed another towel for my hair, gentle rubbing it over the long strands.

  When he was done, he silently led me out to the bedroom where Ethan sat on the edge of the bed. He sat beside him, pulling me down on his lap, pulling my head to his chest.

  I liked when they did this, held onto me as if I were something worth holding onto.

  “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I never want to make you cry. I shouldn’t have yelled, but I wasn’t angry at you. I just…”

  “You don’t have to explain, Declan. I did something bad. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t know why I did that.” My eyes burned again when I thought of the girl with the colorful hair.

  I think she maybe could have been a friend. I would never know now, though.

  The only people I needed around me at this point, we’re all on the property, with the exception of Tonya.

  I liked that old woman.

  “The difference between right and wrong is a hard line to walk sometimes,” Ethan commented, rubbing my calf.

  “We love you, sweetheart. We just don’t want anything to happen to you. And the world is a much more fucked up place than the Dahlia could ever be.”

  My head popped up.

  “You…you love me already?”

  “Is that hard to believe? You’re a kickass girl. There’s nothing hard about loving you. You’re our center. We couldn’t be complete without you around,” Ethan grinned.

  “Jesus Ethan, you sound like a damn hallmark card. Save some pussy for the rest of us,” Declan laughed.

  “I do my best.”

  I didn’t know what the center concept was, or a hallmark card, but my eyes burned again for a second reason now.

  I laid my head back on Declan’s chest, enjoying the sound of his heartbeat.

  “Do you want to tell me why Molly had your phone?” he asked after a few minutes rolled by, pulling the now cracked device from his pocket.