Nightmare

I’ve never had such an overwhelming breakfast as this one. There are at least forty people in the kitchen, talking over one another, swearing, cursing, yelling. I’m not used to so much noise while eating, and I want to leave.

I also feel someone staring holes through me. It’s been like that since I first got here, and it's getting on my last nerve. I know who it is... I’ve caught him more than once. The handsome-as-hell, tall, dark biker.

Piercing brown eyes, dark brown hair, and a beard that’s absurdly attractive and suits him perfectly. His whole body is covered in black and grey tattoos, along with some piercings. He’s a feast for the eyes, but I don’t like the feeling of being stalked, thank you very much.

I finish my breakfast and get up from my seat. Instead of doing what I normally do, going to my room and spending most of my time there, I walk over to my “stalker.”

“Stop fucking looking at me.” I stand before him. God Almighty, he’s taller than I thought. I have to strain my neck just to see his face.

He looks at me with a strange expression, saying nothing. That pisses me off even more.

“If you have nothing to say, stop staring at me. Creeps me the fuck out.” With that, I walk away, ignoring everyone who’s now looking at me. I know what they’re thinking. I’ve heard them talk about the big guy. I think they said his name was Killer. Wonder where that name came from.

People mostly try to avoid him. Women just look at him, probably to use his image later when they’re alone or when they’re fucking someone else. He’s sex on a stick, so I can’t really blame them.

When I walk outside, I run into my brother, Devil.

“You look healthy,” I tell him after getting a good look at his face. He looks hungover as fuck.

“I feel healthy.” Grinning, I shake my head and step aside. I might be his sister, but I know I have to show respect toward the Prez. Devil gives me one final smile before walking into the kitchen.

As I make my way to my room, I see a couple of Souleaters in front of the stairs. I sigh. This was bound to happen sooner or later. I know this type of woman—I’ve seen them too many times in my short 22 years of life.

“What?” I stop two feet away from them, shove my hands in the pockets of my all-time favorite jacket, and plant my feet apart.

“You need to leave,” Bitch #1 tells me. They’ve been introduced to me, don’t get me wrong, but my brain has a habit of forgetting unimportant information. This girl is just a hole that learned how to talk and grew a brain. A small one, but it’s there… probably.

“I told you before that I don’t give a fuck what you say, didn’t I?” I remind her. God, I’m already bored. I need a hobby.

“We were here before you. You just walk in like your pussy’s made of gold because you’re the Prez’s little sister. Looking at us like we’re shit, even though you’re just jealous we can fuck the guys. Don’t act like you’re all that, skinny bitch.”

Uh, what?

“Body-shaming is the best you can come up with?” I raise an eyebrow and glance down at her body. She’s skinny too, with big boobs and a big ass. Probably fake, though. No one has a perfect pair of boobs like that.

“We’ve warned you enough. You’re not wanted here. No one’s saying anything because of the Prez and Chaos, but even they want you gone. Your mama threw you away for a reason. Get the hint,” Bitch #2 hisses.

“And here I am, still not giving a fuck. I think Devil has enough balls to tell me if he didn’t want me here. He doesn’t need your cock-sucking mouth to talk for him.”

I try to walk away, done with this dumb conversation, when Bitch #3 grabs me by the dreads, pulling me down the stairs. I manage to stay on my feet, but I’m off balance... physically and emotionally.

I don’t handle aggression toward me well. I lash out. In the corner of my eye, I see two more Souleaters approaching, probably thinking they can protect their slutty friends. Problem is, they don’t know me at all.

Bitch #1 tries to punch me, but I catch her fist and shove her against the wall. Bitch #2 goes for a knee kick, but I spin and high-kick her in the right boob. I hope it pops. That’d be hilarious.

Bitch #3 charges, and I hook her in the face. Satisfaction floods me when I hear the crunch of her nose breaking. She screams. I chuckle and hit her again, this time in the temple, knocking her out.

Bitch #2 recovers and charges at the same time as Bitch #1. Again, I see them coming. I grab Bitch #1’s hair, slam her head into the wall, then kick Bitch #2 in the stomach. She doubles over, gagging, giving me time to knock out Bitch #1 with another wall smash.

The two other Bitches freeze nearby, wide-eyed. They don’t move. Maybe they actually have a few brain cells. Who would’ve thought?

Bitch #1’s face is bloody and unrecognizable when I’m done. I turn to Bitch #2, half-sprawled on the floor, shaking and surrounded by her own vomit. Pathetic.

I stare at her a moment before kicking her in the side of the head. I’ve never been nice... no point starting now.

“What the hell?”

Oh, right. Other people live here.

I turn and see most of the brothers pouring out of the kitchen. Devil looks furious, but there’s pride and admiration in his eyes too.

“Just a question, big bro,” I say. “Do you always let bitches speak for you, or were they lying about you not wanting me here? I’m guessing the latter, but hey, you never know.”

I wipe the blood off my knuckles with my jeans and wait for his answer.

“Bitches were lying. I never even talk to them. I just fuck ’em,” Devil says. He’s not looking at me, though... he’s eyeing the unconscious women on the floor.

“They’re out. Tell them that when they wake the fuck up. I don’t have time for bitches causing drama like this.” The Souleaters nod and, with the help of a few prospects, drag the women away.

“I can handle it, you know. Don’t have to send pussy away.”

Devil looks at me, then throws his head back in a laugh. “Dear sister, they’re easy to replace. The brothers like new blood anyway. Don’t worry about their dicks.”

“Whatever you say.” I shrug and catch Killer watching me again. God, he pisses me off. It pisses me off more that he gets me hot and bothered when I don’t want him to.

I head upstairs to my room. I’m exhausted... I haven’t been sleeping lately. I lie down on the floor, needing the familiar chill of it against my skin, and curl into a ball.

Before long, I fall asleep, letting the exhaustion take me.

I can’t breathe, but I don’t care. I know I should feel pain, but I stopped feeling a long time ago.

Sir grunts. He’s on top of me. I should see his face, but I’m blind. My brain has blocked everything out again. I don’t feel my body. I’m not here.

I hope he kills me today. I hope he loses control.

But he doesn’t. He flips me over and ties my hands to the bedpost, arching my back, exposing everything.

“You make me do this. It’s because you’re so beautiful.”

Smack. The sound of leather striking skin. He’s whipping me with his belt. I don’t feel it.

“My sweet little doll. Only I can destroy you. Only I can take your beautiful, pure skin and ruin it. I’ll make you more beautiful. Only for me. Only, ever for me. You’re mine. No one else will want you. Only me.”

I don’t respond. I stopped talking a while ago.

Please, lose control. Kill me. Please.

The belt cracks again. And again. And again. I think I feel my blood dripping down my legs.

Kill me. Kill me. Kill me.

Black spots blur my vision. My body is shutting down. Yes, finally.

He stops. I feel him move closer.

“So beautiful, so pretty, so deceiving. You make me do this. It’s your fault.”

His hands wrap around my neck, choking me. He’s inside me again. I don’t feel him anymore. I don’t feel anything.

Kill me. Kill me. Kill me.

My brain shuts down from the lack of oxygen. The world turns darker. My body rocks from Sir’s thrusts. His breath is hot against my ear. I used to feel disgust—now I barely register the sound. I don’t care. I just want him to kill me.

I just want to sleep.

Sir jerks behind me. He’s coming, filling me with filth. His hands tighten around my neck. I hope, this time, I don’t wake up.

Knowing my luck, I probably will.