R.I.P.

by Charity B.

  I can’t hold it back anymore. My come releases in shocking waves as I moan, “I love you, Malakai.”

  My body won’t move. I can’t believe that happened. As soon as my orgasm waned and my muscles relaxed, he slid out the doll. He tossed her on the bed and left my room without a single word.

  I find myself laughing. I know he wants me, maybe as much as I want him. His fighting is making me bonkers and turning me on all at once. Pushing myself off the bed, I go to the bathroom to clean between my legs with a wet wipe, bringing one back to clean off Beddy.

  I sit at my desk and pull out my toe tag book. It’s my most important possession. Even though morticians haven’t used toe tags for a really long time, my mommy likes them. She uses normal wrist bands too, but those are sent home with the families—we can keep the toe tags. I’ve been sneaking my favorites since I first found Mommy’s book. My collection is barely a fraction of hers which makes me love it even more since I choose each one special.

  I brush my fingers over the names of the dead before flipping to the back where the newest tags are. My tummy tickles, making my grin stretch my face. Presents are not something we really do in this family. While I’ll get something small for Christmas and birthdays, it’s never anything extravagant. Then, two years ago, I was reading through the names and realized there were new ones! Malakai had taken them for me and has continued doing it ever since.

  I hold the tag close to my chest. He knew I would like it because she died from a horrible sickness. Between the toe tag and what happened earlier, my heart is flipping around like a fish suffocating without water.

  Picking up Princess Sparkle, my baby doll with glittery horns and a fluffy pink teddy bear body, I hug her. Last year, Bridgett found my doll, Palinky, in my backpack. She never gave him back, and they still make fun of me for him, so I don’t bring my creations to school anymore. I miss them all day.

  I leave my room to meet Kai in the hall. He smiles as he takes my hand to walk downstairs. I don’t want to bring up what happened with Beddy because then I might jinx it. Besides, he seems content with acting like nothing happened.

  “Thank you for the toe tag.”

  His slate eyes glitter in the dim hall. “You’re welcome. Mom said she died of Hepatitis A.” He raises his eyebrows in mock horror, making me laugh.

  We take our places at the table, and once our plates are full and we pray, Daddy clears his throat.

  “Do you know what tonight is?”

  I look up at him in surprise. He never speaks of family night at dinner, but I have no idea what else he could be talking about.

  “Family night?” I ask.

  Malakai shoves a spoonful of potatoes in his mouth, leaving some on his lip. I grin at him. He started running every morning a few years ago, and ever since, his appetite has become insatiable. It’s so cute.

  “Yes, baby girl. However, today is also the anniversary of when I became pastor at First Bethel. Associate pastor Westbrook and his wife surprised me today by inviting your mother and I out for dinner.” His hand gestures to his plate. “That’s why we’re eating so light.”

  I clench my fists. No! He can’t cancel family night! “What about Mr. Jasick?!” I try really hard to hide my frustration, but I still hit the table a little bit. Daddy’s eyes narrow as he leans forward, and I immediately sit up straighter. “Sorry, Daddy.”

  “Do you two think you can handle things alone, or do we need to figure out other arrangements?”

  My eyes widen in excitement, and I clasp my hands. “We’ll be fine, right, Kai?”

  I look at my brother who seems to be more focused on his food than the conversation. “Uh, yeah, sure. We’re good.”

  Malakai

  18 years old

  Fuck. I can’t get that image out of my head. I’ve never seen her pussy spread apart like that. And God, what she was doing with that doll… I came to memories of that image as soon as I was alone in my bedroom. More than anything I wish I could have touched and tasted her, but fucking her with the toy was beyond enough.

  I keep thinking if I don’t be alone with her, it will eventually be easier to control. So far, the opposite is happening, and it doesn’t help that she’s obviously taunting me. She walks around in these little dresses, bending over to show me her panties. She licks her bright pink lips in the most seductive way, just like she’s doing now.

  I flip on the blinker to turn into First Bethel, and once I’ve parked, I lead us in through the lobby. My father has Mr. Jasick already prepared, covered in plastic and incapacitated. He’s still asleep from the drugs, so we go to the cart to choose which tool will decide his fate.

  Adriel bats her eyelashes over her seductive irises and says, “You want to do the nail gun again?”

  Her body language says she’s begging me to kiss her, but I already let myself go way too far this afternoon. Eliminating sinners always makes her so aroused it’s nearly unbearable. She sets her creation named Princess Sparkle on the AV cart and turns on the battery-operated drill, placing the drill bit into Mr. Jasick’s thigh. Within seconds, he’s screaming in muffled agony.

  I bend down to rip off some cellophane and shove it in his mouth when she says, “Here. Use these.” Reaching beneath her skirt, she tugs her rainbow panties down her thighs. She shoves them in my face, allowing me to smell her. My cock pushes against my zipper like it’s reaching for her body. I swallow and pull apart the Saran wrap to shove her damp underwear between the wailing man’s lips.

  She climbs on top of him, grinding against his crotch, lifting her skirt so I can watch her pussy lips rubbing over his tan slacks, leaving a wet spot. She usually can’t get sexual like this during family night because our parents are here. I bite my lip as hard as I can to stop myself from gripping my dick over my jeans.

  Although there’s a small part that’s pissed she’s touching him this way, her eyes haven’t torn from mine for a moment, so I know the pimp is nothing more than a prop. She undoes his slacks and takes his floppy cock from his pants. Her little hand strokes him, her multicolored nails mesmerizing. It must feel as good as it looks because his dick grows beneath her fingers. As soon as he’s hard enough to attempt a thrust, she holds out her hand.

  “The drill please, Kai.”

  She takes it from me, and the moment before she puts the drill bit to his piss hole, he thrashes and grunts. His kicks and punches tear the plastic, throwing Adriel to the floor.

  My mind isn’t able to grasp what’s happening quick enough to tell my body what to do, and my first reaction is to kneel next to her to see if she’s okay.

  Sitting up, she rubs her head. “Ouchie.”

  The plastic rips, and my heart pumps full speed at what could happen if he were to overpower us. He’s a large man, but we’ve had men his size before, and this has never happened.

  I spin around just as he breaks free. The moment I see him grab the drill is the same moment everything goes black.

  “Get off me!” Those are Adriel’s screams. “I’m gonna kill you, you big, smelly fuck!”

  A man’s laugh pounds in my head which feels big and swollen. Too heavy to lift off the concrete. Crashes fill the space between her screams. I have to get up.

  First I need to open my eyes.

  “Malakai! Wake up! PLEASE!”

  Forcing my lids apart blinds me with light, and I grunt from the burning of my corneas. I reach up, feeling the back of my head, relieved by the small amount of blood that comes away on my fingers. Adjusting to my surroundings, my gaze finds Adriel.

  She’s on the floor, flailing beneath Mr. Jasick. He’s pinned her down with his knees against her arms while she kicks her feet. Standing causes my body to sway, so I grab the table to catch my balance. Even with the room fuzzy, it’s clear enough to see the cleaver on the AV tray.

  Adriel screams as she fights. I’ve never seen her look so terrified before, and I fucking loathe it. My heart shatters, the pieces falling to my stomach. My beautiful little s
ister is innocent in so many ways, and if I don’t force myself across this room, she’ll be ripped away from me by this street trash.

  Gripping the cleaver handle, I make sure my steps are slow and steady as I cross the basement. He squeezes his hands around her throat, and I lunge for the motherfucker, bringing the blade down hard into the side of his neck. It doesn’t chop his head off, it doesn’t even go halfway through, but it doesn’t matter as his blood rains down on Adriel, bathing her in red. His body falls on top of her, and she groans.

  “God! He’s so fat!”

  I push him off, exposing her spread legs and open pussy smeared in blood. “Are you okay?” I pant.

  She nods, forcing my relief and endorphins to mix wildly. I grab her face and kiss her, tasting the nearly dead man’s blood. She responds with eagerness, pulling at my shirt to bring me closer. We yank on each other’s hair, our mouths desperate for something wrong. It’s supposed to be anyway, but in this moment, it doesn’t feel like a choice. She wraps her legs around my waist and pulls off my thermal shirt. Her fingers softly trace the fresh cuts on my wrist while her tongue explores my mouth.

  I flip her on her back, resting her head against Mr. Jasick’s abdomen. My lips refuse to leave her bloody body as I kiss and suck my way between her legs.

  Touching her for the first time makes me frantic as I spread her apart and lick inside her little hole. She smashes against my face with her thrusts, my tongue searching eagerly for her clit. I suck it between my lips, finding it hard to stop my own rocking against the floor.

  “Kai,” she whimpers, “yes, I like that. Please, keep licking my clitty.”

  The way she moans that out drives me crazy, and I ram two fingers inside of her. I look up at her fisting Mr. Jasick’s shirt, looking so beautiful in her pleasure. Her legs shake as Mr. Jasick coughs up more blood. She tightens around my fingers, submerging them in her orgasm. With a soft moan, she sits up, smiling at me. I can’t make myself stop fingering her.

  “I want you to fuck me, Kai. Fuck me like you fuck Mommy.”

  Her words sober me. I hate my mother for still making me do that, and I hate myself for letting it continue to happen. Anger fills my chest at the fact that this could have been both of our first times. It would have been perfect for it to have been together. All my reservations about sleeping with her seem petty and small now. Had things gone a different way tonight, I could’ve lost her.

  Adding a third finger pulls a squeal from her lips, and I push them in hard. “Not here. Not with him.”

  Her eyes blaze with a smirk. Jumping to her knees, she kisses me as she lifts off my fingers. “First you have to catch me!”

  Quick as a flash she’s on her feet, running up the stairs. I know exactly where she’s going. Mom and Dad won’t be back for a while, so I lock up the church to run toward the graveyard.

  The wrought iron fence has been missing its door for a couple months, so I’m able to run right into the cemetery. Adriel pops out from behind an angel headstone and says, “Boo!” before giggling and skipping between the plots. We’ve always loved this place. For as long as I can remember, we’ve played here. Our favorite part? The mausoleum.

  The creak of the door is loud in the still of the night when she disappears inside of the tiny stone building.

  When I reach the handle, I freeze. I know what happens in here will change both of our futures. My heart is still pumping from the struggle with Mr. Jasick, and my cock is still straining from the taste of her blood-covered pussy, making my mind up for me.

  Moonlight streaks across the stone floor as I pull open the door, shining over her breathtaking, nude body.

  My voice becomes misplaced at seeing her this way, so I do what every bone and vein in my body screams for me to do. It’s never like this with Mom. Even when it feels incredible, it’s never desire, much less an uncontrollable need.

  The door slams shut behind me as I grab her face and kiss her, backing her against the crypts. Just as I’m about to reach down and undo my old jeans, her fingers fumble with my zipper. We both moan the moment her hand touches me. As she pushes my pants and underwear down enough for access, I pick her up.

  “I love you so much, Adriel. Once we do this, we can’t undo it.”

  A mischievous smile spreads across her lips as she whispers, “Good.”

  With those words, I fill her body with my own. And for the first time in my life, I feel a sense of peace.

  Micah

  47 years old

  The kids back away from the house in the hearse while I watch from our bedroom window. Azalea is still in the morgue, so I go to the kitchen to make some coffee, pleasantly surprised to find there’s already a full pot. Pouring myself a cup, I settle on the couch to wait for her. The news is on, and I chuckle to myself thinking of what Adriel always says when I watch it.

  “Come on, Daddy, not the news. I hate that show!”

  When I got the invitation for dinner tonight, I was both trepidatious and hopeful. My marriage is in desperate need of repair. While I feel constant shame about my continued actions involving our sex life, I also feel somewhat justified. She hasn’t willingly been with me since before Adriel was born. It infuriates me that she married me with a healthy libido only to change shortly after. I’m a man with desires given to me by God. I’ve tried to sleep with other women, but I don’t want them—I want my wife. I love my wife. I think more than being angry, I’m heartbroken. Besides being in a mostly sexless marriage, it feels like I’m in a loveless one as well and have been for years.

  We haven’t had a night out in a long time, so while I’m hoping it will add some light to her face, she’s also never been big on social situations, leaving me concerned tonight will have the opposite effect.

  The newscasters sign off, telling me it’s starting to get late. We need to leave soon.

  I find her soaping up when I reach the prep room. “Hey, are you about ready? It’s almost time to go.”

  She doesn’t respond. I often wonder how much of what I say she actually hears. As she dries her hands, her burning gaze snaps toward me. “I’ve had enough, Micah.”

  Nausea hits me so hard I almost double over. What does that mean? I reach for her, and even as I plead, I know it’s fruitless. “Azalea…”

  “Don’t fucking touch me!” She kneels down to the cabinet, and when she stands, she’s pointing a gun in my face. “You won’t ever touch me again.”

  My fear for our marriage quickly becomes fear for my life as I hold up my hands. “Come on, sweetie, we can talk about this.”

  “Oh, we’re going to talk about it.” She waves the gun behind me. “Go to the embalming room.”

  I keep my eyes peeled for something to incapacitate her while doing what she says because I, above all people, know how unstable she can become. Once we’re inside the room, she closes the door behind her, never taking the gun off me.

  How did we get here? There was a time we were so happy; the world was endless as long as we were together. Tears fill my eyes and pour down my cheeks at the fact that my soulmate, the one who would write me love notes and sneak them into my pocket, now hates me so much her only option is snuffing out my existence.

  “Why, Azalea?”

  She laughs in a maniacal way. “Asks the man who’s been raping me for years.” I’m about to apologize, try to explain things, when she adds, “You suffocated me, forced me into our son’s bed, and made me no different than the sinners we eradicate.”

  It’s incredible how quickly a single moment, a single sentence, can change every molecule of everything you’ve ever felt and snap it right down the middle. She hurt my son. Our son.

  I lunge for her when I’m thrown backward with a BANG. My veins catch fire before the left side of my body screams in agony. Blood blossoms over my shoulder, dripping down my arm, surrounding a deep hole. She actually did it.

  When I look up, it’s down the barrel of a gun. “Get on the embalming table, and lie down.”

&
nbsp; I struggle to stand and do as she says, but I don’t know why. I’m not leaving this place alive either way.

  With a roll of duct tape, she confines my arms to my side, unknowingly adding pressure, relieving some of the pain from the bullet wound. After repeating the process with my legs, she does exactly what I was terrified of. More tears fall as I watch her fill a large syringe with embalming fluid.

  “You’re going to feel the same agony you’ve caused me to feel for years. The only difference is, you get the grace of the reaper.” Finding a vein in my arm, she slides the needle beneath my skin. “There was a time when I loved you.”

  “What happened, Azalea? We were having problems before I…” I can’t even bring myself to say it. I close my eyes as my heart lays heavy between my ribs. For the first time, I truly understand what I did to her. I’ve rationalized it for years, refusing to admit to myself what a horrific thing I was doing to my wife.

  And she did it to our son.

  “How long have you been abusing Malakai?”

  Her shoulders fall with her sigh as she pushes the fluid into my body. “I don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore. My answer might not even be true.”

  There was something I was going to say, a question I wanted to ask. None of it matters, when pain like I’m boiling from the inside out overtakes my every thought. I know I’m dying as my skin melts into the table.

  Heaviness weighs on my stomach, and my eyes fly open to see what else she’s doing to me.