Chapter 9: The Fuck You Will
"Shhh, Teddy," I whispered as I clutched Teddy tighter to my chest. "We have to be really, really quiet now."
The very air around me seemed to be calm and peaceful, but I knew that the outside world was anything but.
I remembered a time I had been locked in the shack outside of the house. I had made Pere mad, and my punishment was to spend an entire night out in the decrepit structure. That night was the start of a two day storm with torrential rain and high winds. It was a named hurricane, only I had forgotten the name of it.
What I hadn't forgotten was the sound that the wind made as it whipped through the shack, sending the entire thing down around me. To this day, I have nightmares about the screaming wind.
It was nice to know that it was now going to be replaced, though. I had been in the living room when the two Shit Stains were watching zombie movies. They had made it their mission to tell me in every last detail what was playing out on screen.
If this protection that Greed, Envy, and Pride had given me wasn't strong enough, I was going to be ripped limb from limb until there was nothing left of me.
And that was not my idea of a good time.
With my eyes squeezed tight, all my other senses were on high alert. I could hear the low moaning sounds coming from outside. It was hard to describe the exact sound that would now be haunting me.
It was a mix between 'This is the best food I've ever eaten' and 'Are you sure I have to get out of bed today?' The moans didn't sound painful, but they were like a never-ending sea that only grew in volume as they got closer to the house and the open door.
The next thing I knew, the sounds of thuds and drags started to intermix with the moans, producing a symphony all their own. Soon, I found myself swaying to the unconscious beat of the idiot zombies' walk as their moans rose in joy at the smell of blood.
"No!" screamed Marc, completely cutting off the beautiful music the zombies were making. Huh, maybe I wouldn't be having nightmares about them after all. "Merde! Ton fils de putain!"
His words were soon drowned out by the happy moans and the sound of wet flesh being torn off his unwilling body.
"Do you want to see?" asked Greed, his voice dancing over my skin. "Do you want to know what is happening a foot or so away from you?"
I froze at his words. A part of me wanted to scream no that I didn't need to see what was going on outside…
But another part, a far darker part, was curious to see what a mangled body would look like.
I had seen the after effects of a gator attack; they had twisted off limbs with an almost surgical precision. I wondered if zombies had the same method of attack.
Probably not.
"Stop it," snapped Pride. I could feel him hovering right in front of me, wanting to offer me comfort but not wanting to risk the chance that I would see what was going on.
But that was fine. I had a very vivid imagination; I could guess what Marc looked like right now.
The sharp metallic scent of blood soon started to collide with the rot coming off the zombies, and I couldn't help but wrinkle my nose.
"Not much longer, Little Star," murmured Envy. "As soon as they have had their fill, they'll go off looking for another tasty snack to eat."
I nodded my head, the adrenaline in my body starting to wear off. Resting my cheek against Teddy's head, I closed my eyes and let sleep take me.
My demons would protect me.
Hopefully.
-----
"This is bullshit, and you know it!" sneered Pride as he paced back and forth in front of a large oval mirror. "We can't protect her like this. We need to do something that's not sitting on our asses, watching her be in danger every fucking second of the day."
"Do we need to?" asked a man as he lounged in an oversized chair.
Six men stood in what looked to be a throne room with seven thrones placed in a semicircle. While five of them stood, only one had a bare leg hooked over the armrest as he took a drink from the glass of blood in his hand. He was too attractive to look at, his perfectly smooth skin, his luxurious locks, his perfect figure. Everything about him was designed to draw humans to him.
It didn't matter if they were young or old, male or female. All he had to do was look at them, and they would fall at his feet, begging for his favor.
The only thing on him that wasn't perfect was the twisted sneer on his face as he stared into the same mirror all his brothers were looking at. The girl curled up in a small ball under the kitchen table, wasn't much to look at.
He had seen more beautiful women… had fucked more beautiful women… and yet, something about her drew him like a moth to the flame.
Too fucking bad his brothers had gotten to her first.
They weren't much into sharing, preferring to break their toys instead of letting others have their fun… especially Greed. He refused to give up anything that he considered to be his own.
And yet… here he was, playing nice with Envy and Pride to protect a worthless meat bag.
"Fuck off, Lust," sneered Greed as if reading his mind. "Why don't you go back to your own section and leave us the fuck alone."
Lust bit his tongue, refusing to reply to his brother. But Hell was boring. Most assumed that all the fun people went to Hell, but that wasn't the case at all.
Here, nothing interesting happened. It was always the same thing, day after day after day until the end of time. The screams of torture and agony were becoming redundant, and truth be told, he was tired of fucking randoms just to pass the time.
"Maybe I'll join you on with the next power boost," Lust murmured, only to have all six brothers turning to him.
"The fuck you will."