Sisters Of Night And Fog Novels & Stories

>>> Whiskey was a memory of warmth in my stomach as I sat in front of Gallena's TV table, which was very moody this time. "Fright Night, Evil Dead, or Night of the Living Dead?" I put the movie on my lap and waited for an answer. Gallena's muffled words could be heard from the bed. "Sixteen Candles." My eyes widened. "Sixteen Candles?" "Mmhm." This is bad. Very bad. "Are you really sure?" She sighed. "Yes, Gretta." "Okay. . . let me take it." I looked at my sister like she had grown two more heads as I walked out of the room. However, she only looked drunk and tired, covered by the Star Wars blanket.

Toward the night of the massive storm a decade ago. The night the real girl in the rain met her kingpin.

“You’re gonna sit there with the taste of incest on your tongue and tell me every word that bastard said. And if I decide my sister’s throat wasn’t enough of a reminder… we’ll deal with it under Dad’s roof. Where this kind of pure sin belongs.” I started the car with the windows already fogging and the thick smell of sex, spit, and cum hanging heavy between us. My little sister looked still flushed, her chin wet, her lips swollen and used, exactly how I needed her to be owned, throat-fucked, and reminded who she belonged to when the night got dark.

“Tomorrow the Terrible Two-Some of Sick and Misk will be back on the case, killin’ hoes and mo-fos in their sleep. The Killer Sisters are back, girlfriend!” Despite myself, I smile and return Mary Sue’s proffered high-five. No matter how much I try, I never seem able to hate her for very long.