by Derek Slaton
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“That goddamn fucking slut, how could she do that to me?” Cooper muttered as he stormed into the woods. His ego was bruised at the thought of that little pervert getting gratification from his woman. “I swear to fucking Christ I will beat his ass into the ground if he ever tells anybody about Heather getting his rocks off.”
There was a small clearing about ten feet off the trail, which was all the seclusion he required. Cooper gently tapped the bottom of his cigarette soft pack, exposing a lone stick. He pulled it out with his mouth, still muttering obscenities to himself, and lit it up. That first long draw calmed him as the nicotine coursed through his body.
“Oh yeah, that’s a lot better.” He sighed.
“Cooper, is that you?” Heather asked as she slowly worked her way through the brush.
“Your new boyfriend isn’t here, why don’t you try looking down at the lake,” he replied, vicious sarcasm dripping from his tongue.
“Oh come on, don’t be like that,” she said as she entered the clearing. “And you know, I don’t know why you’re so upset. It was your idea for me to go out and teach him a lesson.”
Cooper huffed. “I wanted you to tease him, not jack him off like he was a cheap-ass trick.”
“Baby, I didn’t jerk him off,” she said and moved closer to him. “In fact, this is all I did.”
She gently grazed his nether region, simultaneously calming Cooper about one feeling and getting his blood pumping about another.
“How was I supposed to know he had a hair trigger?” she asked.
He gaped at her. “Seriously, that’s all you did? Just grazed him?”
“That’s it. Just a simple touch and he popped off faster than a champagne cork,” she assured him.
“Is that a fact? Well, accident or not…” he paused, taking a long drag from his cigarette, “still couldn’t hurt for you to apologize.”
Heather shot him a playful pout, taking a step back from him and smiling like a girl who enjoyed being in trouble. He responded in kind with a crooked smile, his lit cig dangling from the corner of his mouth. He undid the top button of his jeans and leaned back against a tree.
“Like I said, an apology couldn’t hurt,” he repeated.
“Mmmmm… looks like our fucket list is going to get a little shorter tonight after all.” Heather licked her lips. She moved into position, standing eye to eye with her demanding beau before sinking to her knees.
Cooper took another long drag from his cigarette as the blonde bombshell unzipped his pants. She reached in and grabbed his member which was at attention and ready for action. He exhaled sharply as she took him in her warm mouth.
He grunted with satisfaction as she slowly worked his cock with her expert tongue. When the speed of her technique never increased, he took it upon himself to force the issue. He grabbed the back of her head and forced it all the way down, thrusting violently. Her throat constricted around his meat as she gagged and she braced her hands against his thighs, pushing back.
“Easy there tiger. We’re not in any hurry,” she sputtered, retaking her position in front of him. “It’s my apology, so I want you to lean back, close your eyes and let me apologize properly.”
Cooper let go of her hair and caressed her chin. He stared affectionately down at her, and then gave her a sharp smack across the face. This only riled her up more, and she shoved him back against the tree, taking him deep into her throat once again.
He leaned back and closed his eyes as instructed, completely unaware that they had an audience.
Jake’s killer, the Butcher, stood silently no more than ten feet away at the other side of the clearing. Despite the close proximity, the trees provided a cloak of invisibility around him.
The savage beast watched as Heather’s head bobbed up and down like a piston, forceful and in rhythm. He remained fixated on the young couple, as if he’d never been exposed to a sexual act before. The mesmerizing effect quickly wore off, and the killer drew a long machete from its sheath.
With terrifying dexterity the Butcher raced forward, closing the gap between him and his victims in mere seconds. The noise prompted Cooper to open his eyes with only enough time to let out a partial scream before he struck.
The maniac rammed the machete into the back of Heather’s skull with such force that it went through her mouth straight into her boyfriend’s dick. Blood sprayed upwards, coating Cooper’s chest and face as he convulsed from the pain of his manhood being reduced to chopped meat. The tip of the twenty-two inch blade dug into the tree, joining the young lovers permanently.
Cooper attempted to scream, but the Butcher muffled it with his large hand. The fight in his victim drained as quickly as the blood running down Heather’s perky chest. His head slumped forward, allowing the beast to slam it into the tree to finish him off with one final sickening crack of his skull.
Satisfied with his handiwork, the Butcher walked back into the woods, once again giving the lovers privacy.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Pete I’m worried,” Daphne said as she stared out the window. Ever since the fight between Ritchie and his tormentors, she had been keeping an eye out. “It’s been an hour and nobody has come back yet.”
“Baby, it’s nothing to worry about,” Pete assured her, taking a seat beside her. He attempted to pull her close but she shook him off, not wanting to shirk her duty to keep watch. Undeterred, Pete rubbed her shoulders in an attempt to calm her down.
“Something’s not right,” she said.
“Daphne, let’s stop and think about this rationally. Look at what happened to Ritchie tonight. The girl he’s crazy about played a cruel prank on him, and as a result everybody knows he… umm… has no stamina. Do you really think he’s anxious to see or talk to any of us?”
She crossed her arms. “No, I guess not,” she conceded.
“And besides, did you see that giant bottle of moonshine he took with him?” Pete asked. “If he drinks even a quarter of that we’re going to find him passed out on the pier spooning a lake trout.”
Daphne chuckled at the mental image. “Okay, so what about Cooper and Heather?”
“What about Cooper and Heather?” He rolled his eyes. “You mean you’re concerned about two people who spent an entire week coming up with a fucket list? A fucket list. Literally a document listing all of the various places, positions and techniques they would like to employ when they fuck. And given how they left here, they were a prime candidate for makeup sex. The only thing that would make me worry about them is if they show up here before breakfast. Knowing those two they are going to show the rabbits how it’s done.”
The brunette pursed her lips. “Have you seen Jake tonight?”
“Hon, he is so quiet we completely forgot he was riding in the same van as us,” he pointed out. “I’m sure he’s fine too, just out there enjoying nature in more ways than one.”
Daphne continued to stare out the window. “I know you’re probably right Pete, but I’m just not going to rest well until I know everybody is safe.”
He stopped rubbing her shoulders and got up from the couch.
Her gaze finally snapped away from the window. “You’re not leaving me are you?”
“Of course not,” he assured her. “I’m just going to grab another blanket and get you a pillow. Figure that’s going to be more comfortable for you to lean on than that the edge of that couch.”
She smiled. “I love you Pete.”
“I love you too, hon. I’ll be right back,” he said and walked across the room to the closet.
Daphne turned back towards the window, just as a large figure was moved across the driveway. Her face drained of color.
“It’s him! He’s here! He’s here!” she screamed.
Pete ran over to her and attempted to look where she was pointing, but the figure had vanished into the woods. “I’m sorry hon, but there’s nothing there.”
“I swear Pete, it was the same man from the lak
e today,” Daphne gushed as he buried her head in his chest for comfort. “We have to get out of here, we have to get out of here now!”
“What in the hell is going on down here?” Edgar demanded from the staircase.
Marie followed close behind. “Yeah do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Daphne just saw the man from the lake again,” Pete explained.
“Oh for fuck’s sake girl, you telling me you woke us up because you bought into that little shit’s butcher of Camp Barlow story?” Edgar snapped.
“I don’t know if it’s the same guy or not, but I swear to you, I saw someone at the lake and I just saw them again walking across the driveway. You have to believe me!” Daphne pleaded.
“Hon, you sure it’s not just Cooper playing a joke on you?” Marie asked. “I mean it wouldn’t be the first time that prick did something like that.”
The brunette shook her head. “Unless he grew another foot and gained another hundred pounds it’s not him.”
“Man, y’all do your white people shit, I’m going back to bed.” Edgar waved his hand at her as he turned to go back up the stairs.
“Goddammit I am not making this up!” Daphne shrieked, fists clenched. Everyone froze, even Pete staring at her open-mouthed. A sob tore its way from her throat and her friends practically flew down the stairs to her.
“Okay girl, okay, your boy Edgar is here now,” he said in a soothing tone. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I just saw the man from the lake walk across the driveway and into the woods,” she said, and took a deep breath to steady herself. “Everybody else is missing, and we’re trapped here because Ritchie has the keys to the van.” She paused. “I’m not making this up. I know you may think I’m crazy because of all that stuff with my mother, but I swear, there is a man out there.”
“Okay girl, I believe you,” Edgar conceded. “This is what we’re gonna do. Your man and I are gonna lock this shit down tight. Ain’t nobody gonna get in here unless we want them to. Marie here is gonna move into the kitchen and get us some coffee going, and the four of us are going to sit here getting caffeinated until the sun comes up. Once it does, we’re gonna find Ritchie and then we’re gonna get the fuck up on outta here and never come back. That sound good?”
Daphne wiped a tear from her cheek before nodding in agreement.
“Okay girl, we got you,” Edgar said. “Pete, you get the front of the house secure, I’m gonna lock the back then head upstairs to make sure it’s locked down. Then-”
A scream from outside interrupted him. The foursome ran to the windows to see what the commotion was. A skinny figure staggered from side to side near the van.
“Heather you’re a fucking whore!” Ritchie screamed, and raised the almost empty jar of moonshine to his mouth. He took a deep gulp and then staggered against the vehicle. “I… I can’t believe I wasted so many nights dreaming up the things I could do to you! I hope you’re enjoying being Cooper’s cum dumpster because that’s all you’ll ever amount to!”
“I know he’s pissed, but goddamn that’s cold.” Edgar remarked as the group made their way to the front door and out to the driveway.
“Yo Ritchie, you alright man?” Pete yelled, prompting Ritchie to emerge from behind the open van door.
“Hey guys, how… how are y’all doin?” Ritchie slurred. “You have… haven’t seen that WHORE Heather around have you? I… I don’t want her to go to sl… sleep until I look her right in her cold dead eyes and tell… tell her that she’s a fucking WHORE.”
“Nah man, we haven’t seen her around lately,” Edgar replied. “Why don’t you come inside and we’ll find her?”
“Yeah man let… let me just finish up… here and I’ll come on in.” Ritchie turned back to the van. “Ha, I bet that cumslut Heather hears that a lo… lot… hahaha.”
Daphne’s eyes widened as she caught the glint of a blade in the darkness. “Ritchie!” She screamed, and she wanted to run to him, but her feet were rooted to the spot.
He turned and saw the Butcher a few feet away from him. It took his booze-addled brain a moment to register that a hulking figure with an axe was threatening him, and that moment cost him too much.
The Butcher snatched his throat with a grimy hand and tossed him into the van door. Ritchie’s head collided with the bottom of it with a dull thud and he struggled to get back to his feet, vision swimming.
The deranged savage grabbed the top of the open door and shoved it violently, driving it into Ritchie’s chest. The quartet winced in unison at the sound of cracking ribs.
Their host gasped for air, but could collect none with his punctured lungs. He slumped down, his head resting on the edge of the doorframe. The Butcher pulled the door wide open in order to reach maximum velocity with the next slam.
Ritchie’s face never stood a chance. The metal part of the door sliced through the bridge of his nose like a samurai sword through a wheat stalk. His body seizured on the ground and blood spurted out from the top of his head, coating the door in crimson.
“You mother fucker!” Edgar blurted and took a step towards the van. Marie grasped his arm in fear, holding him back.
The savage turned to stare at them, and the quartet remained motionless as they waited on their attacker to make the first move.
The wait was a short one as the axe wielding maniac threw his utensil of death in their direction before sprinting forward. Pete grabbed Daphne’s arm and bolted, with Edgar and Marie mirroring their movement in the other direction. The axe hit the doorframe of the cottage, splintering wood.
“Come on baby we gotta go,” Edgar pleaded as he dragged the hysterical Marie by the arm. She collapsed to the ground, forcing Edgar to drag her like a rag doll. “Baby please, we gotta go!”
The Butcher retrieved his weapon before turning his attention towards the slowest targets.
“Shit,” Edgar muttered, letting go of Marie’s hand. The fight or flight debate had been settled by Marie’s inability to run, which forced Edgar to prepare for battle. He stood in between his woman and the madman. “Alright motherfucker, let’s do this!”
The Butcher swung his axe horizontally, and Edgar deftly ducked under. He moved in tight for a couple of body blows before the beast shoved him back with hulking arms.
“Goddamn you’re a tough son of a bitch ain’t ya?” He grunted as he focused his fighting stance, his punches doing virtually nothing.
“Baby be careful!” Marie begged, distracting Edgar for the briefest of moments.
The maniac swung his axe down in the moment, and his victim reached up to catch the object with an instinctive hand movement.
Edgar shrieked as the silver blade caught him between the middle and index fingers. The momentum carried it through his hand and halfway into his forearm before slipping out. He spun around and collapsed to his knees, staring at Marie as the upper part of his arm dangled like a split hot dog.
Tears welled up in her eyes they locked fearful gazes. The murdering madman delivered a strike to the top of Edgar’s head, cracking his skull wide open.
With her protector gone, Marie finally pulled it together long enough to run for the woods.
The Butcher pried the axe from the top of his latest kill’s head before wailing on the lifeless corpse several more times. He laughed gleefully with each spray of blood that splashed about.
“Heheheheheheh!”
Squish.
“Heheheheheheh!”
Squish.
“Heheheheheheh.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Pete dragged Daphne down the trail to the lake, trying to put as much distance between them and that axe wielding maniac as possible.
“Pete where are you going?” The brunette cried, hoping for a reply that made any sort of sense.
He continued to pull her along until she’d had enough. She finally ripped her arm free, forcing her boyfriend to stop and grab at her again.
He grunted as she slipped away again. �
�Daphne, I know you’re scared but we have to keep moving.”
“And go where?” she demanded. “We’re in the middle of nowhere!”
He motioned wildly in the dark. “We’re going to get to the other side of the lake then keep going through the woods.”
“You heard Ritchie, the closest place is ten miles away and we don’t have a clue which direction it’s in!” she cried. “The only way we’re getting out of here is getting the keys from Ritchie and driving out in the van.”
He knew she was right. If they picked the wrong direction then the elements and wildlife could be just as deadly at the savage killer back at the camp.
