havemercyonus

[havemercyonus]

𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨: 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐀 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬

Saturday. January 10th, 1997

Take my hand (don't fear the reaper)

They’re in a basement.

A bare lightbulb casts a shadow over her face. The weak fanlight surrounds them as do the damp cement walls. She’s spent the last week in her stuffy dark room on her silk sheets . Watching silly cartoons with her kid on a portable television in their unwashed long Johns. Amma hadn’t done anything this week besides making decent daily microwave meals and playing around her trailer with a frisbee .

Today, Cash dragged them along after closing up shop at the pub. Finally got her out of her hibernation.It comes in bouts with her blues. Blues was what he named it.

“Cash” Amma yelled at him. She’s sitting on a scraped up washing machine, in a denim skirt and stockings.

“You good?” Cash doesn’t look up from his spades. He’s been laying spades for nearly an eternity.

“No!. It’s been two hours, you’ve been winning at the same game. When are we going out?”.

“We’ll be out inna minute. Liv here’s about to cough me up a fifty.”

Liv frowns at her deck splayed out, she mutters something like this motherfucker. She was a tall brown woman with a bony-shaved head.He’d been lackies with her once. The story there was she’d gotten him help for his heroin problem. They’d traded matching black eyes when she threw him in a rehab clinic. The rest was history.

He’d been shifty about where the three would be going. She half figured he was afraid for her. Being friendless again. A pariah by her own shit luck.

He didn’t know half them friends of hers were in the dirt. It never left her mind.

“ The little lady says we need to get up off our asses.” Liv sniffs, rubbing her skin under her white beater. “Whaddya say, we should call it quits, so we can get going .”

Cash flicks a queen forward collecting a sigh from Liv, as she braces her head.

“Pay up” He raised an eyebrow.

“ Rose is gonna strangle me for betting with you.“ She groaned .”She doesn't even want me going out this late. Especially with you.”

“Nah, Rose is sweet on me “. He scoffed.

“Be careful he’s gonna snatch her up from you ”. Amma snickered along with him from the laundry corner.

Liv turned her head at her. ”I don’t like your voice or your face.“

“Hey. don’t get at me. I’m not the one hurting your pockets... She said, shrugging.”Pay the man and lick your wounds, sucker .”

“Ain’t no guests coming over here no more. Not after your bad company.” Liv pursed her lips. Hands him a fifty which he never wanted.”I don’t have the faintest clue why I agreed to go out with y’all.”

“I ain’t been to that spot since ‘90. Directions are all you’re tagging along for. Then it's up to you to stay or not.“

“Touché” Liv rolled her eyes. She gave a glance to the other younger girl who hadn’t spoken much besides jabs at the oleee two.

Amma ignored her on purpose.

She wanted to eat sugary cereal in pj’s and watch dumb cartoons with Nance, who ate the lucky charms for her.But that dark curious weed inside her head, never stopped growing. She wanted to see this through. What he had planned.

Her prayers are answered when finally, Cash stands up, cracking his neck in a way that sounded painful. He gives a serious look at his fossil watch, nodding to himself.

“Can we stop for shakes on the way? I’m hungry?” Amma crossed her arms.

Liv nods but she’s given a look from Cash.

“Ner’mind that. Get up off your ass. Let’s go, we're heading out.” She cursed him for having to be the more crankier one of the two.

‘’Where are we going? Cash, don't fucking drag me around like I’m some damn mule. Tell me where we’re going”.

“Fine. . Cash narrowed his eyes on Amma, folding his arms up in that bossy way that irked her .

”You’re going soft”

“Going soft?.Amma immediately shot back.”I don’t know what the hell you're talking about, asshole”

Trying to decipher what he meant some days was a big fat mystery to her. But she wasn’t dumb.

The sleeping in, turning off the lights, not changing out of her pajamas. He was half right.Everyone she’d met was gone, the good, the bad.

He was right. She’d lost her touch.

“Whatever’s got you down. I’m gon help you out of it. Tonight.”.

The older two go up, while she lags behind.

Amma lost the comeback that was forming on the tip of her tongue. Pissed, She stomped after them out upstairs, up the wood paneling. Rounding the neat living room.

Amma sneaks a glance at Nance on Liv and her girl's plush couch. Luckily, it turned into a bed, so she was cuddled up under a snug pink blanket. She watched the sight without making a sound. She wanted to scoop her up and retreat back to hibernating underneath a few comforters. Think about how much she missed out on because everyone leaves her and she’s going nowhere.

The trio stepped out into the cool. Immediately cursing at the chills.

Liv takes a long drag from her blunt. Perhaps to warm herself up. Amma asked for a hit . Liv passed it to her and she took a long drag, swallowing down her incoming cough.

Cash gets into the driver's seat while Liv pulls out a tiny map in her breast pocket.” Hear this”.

She leans in close between the driver and passenger seats.

“When we get there, keep your wits about you. And you gon’ be just fine”.

She can’t do anything but nod from the back. Her lips closed shut tightly, nervous and buzzing everywhere down to her painted fingertips.

He slowly drives them into a shaded clearing, a back road, no one takes but truck drivers needing a shortcut onto the interstate. It's packed full of Serotha’s biker gangs and women in clothes like them. Some were half-naked, long shaved legs on display in this nasty weather.

The bass of a heavy hitting speaker boomed across the hangout, death metal . Hearing it made her feel even more buzzed. It shook her jawbone. She felt fired up, looking around her intently.

Cash sauntered ahead of her, and she stuck close to him only, by grabbing the tail of his vest. He slaps palms with a few people he recognizes. Amma studies him in his element. Taking notes and stashing them for later. What’s on his mind tonight.

He kept cutting every sketchy person surrounding them a levelled gaze. With that, a path was cleared for them.

Amma’s eyes caught the leers of a few who were tracking her figure, the bareskin below her collar bone and the slope of her waist.

She stared back till they stopped looking closely.

Cash was scanning the sea of glistening red-beat faces. Perspiring from sheer effort and extortion. He was too, as he occasionally whispered into Liv’s pierced ear. They traded looks as if they were hiding a secret. Amma felt ridiculously left out,but she kept her lips shut. Waiting to see more.

Deafening screeches pierce the cool air as jeers of bikers echo all the way, mixing in with sirens from a distance. Gas, sweat, cheap and expensive cologne, and burning nickel of the trashcans that's been set ablaze in the small clearing by the unfinished road. It’s choking her like.Like—Ash or

Death

Both.

She’d been close to it before.

Amma breathed it in, till it settled that warm feeling inside her gut that made her shiver. Made her hungry for blood. . She wanted to kiss this moment like she was a man with heavy debt, and it’s the tarnished metal of a loaded barrel.

Suddenly, Amma lets go of his vest , but her best friend catches her gently by the wrist. He pulled her back and grounded her where she stood. ‘Stay close to us now’’. Cash snapped harshly but it has that soft edge like he’s trying to tether her from drifting away into the chaos. He scanned the road as if he was searching for someone.

She followed Cash and Liv to the patchy side of the road. It was marked off by a handful of cones for the crowd's safety.On the road were tall long-haired men in tan hide vests with their gang’s logos. All of them were jumpy and fired up like her.

Amma squinted at the biker men and their gathered congregation. Looking for commonalities they had, comparing them to the man that was her only best friend. Amma spotted inked pinup girls, she’d wanted to get for the fun of it, cursive letter names of their mothers, children, sisters and lovers. A tell that showed their histories. She was marked like them, too.

With her darting blurry eyes, she caught track marks, faint impressions of needles and bandaids lining their a few of their hairy muscular arms. Cash had a few that never faded away.

They all had to be on something. Or this was the next fix they needed. She should feel bad to love it so much but a thrill went down her spine. Plenty of them were branded by the circles they ran with. Like soldiers from Roman legions she’d seen on film. Waiting on their chariots to charge for war and the love of speed.

“Half these racers are on dope, crank, tweak . Name it and they gotta be on it.” Liv listed off, shoving her hands in her pockets.

“Holy hell”. Amma grinned too wide at that. She’d thought about trying, it at least once. But with Nance around. It wasn’t a option. Never.

She caught Cash watching her face then. Worry written all over its wrinkled edges. He’d told her stories of his old days.

“You don’t need any of that. All you need is your brain. Come on.”, He led them to the rest of the jostling spectators.

All the other bike racers sat high and mighty on their saddles, their white knuckles gripping their handlebars like it was made of gold. They had shiny visors that hid their various goatees, and old school mustaches.

That was the kind of tough she wanted to be. Not someone’s little lady.

‘’Keep your eye out for the one with the hood on. ‘’ Cash said, lowly, he took out a cigarette while Liv cupped her hands around her pink lighter. The fire lit up the permanent sneer on his face.

She spotted the mystery rider on a busted looking Harley, it’s engine had to be off cause he was completely still. His head was covered in a hood, black hair spilled from it.

‘Bet on someone worth it‘’.She ranted, pacing back and forth .”Can’t believe you brought me here to gamble like an idiot.” Her suspicions grew stronger the more he wouldn’t say anything about what their exact purpose was here.

‘’When have you ever seen me gamble?” Cash coughed out a humorless laugh.“I don't play around with my money. Most of it’s gone to child support.”

“Then what the hell are we doing here?“

He flicked ash from his cigarette to the ground. “Fucking calm down already. Liv. Remember that lunatic from Lubbock we ran into when I got out the slammer.?”

“Lubbock’s full of lunatics.” She shrugged.”But yeah I think I remember. This one’s got a death wish and anyone who gets on the road with him has one too. He ain’t ever lost a race.”

“Liv’s telling nothing but the truth. He’s the real deal. He’s got what it takes to be a real killer. And so do you.“

If only he knew.

“Now listen here” Cash turned to her.

”This race needs you in it. I know someone competing tonight. He’ll set you up. He won’t hurt you at all” He paused. “. All you gotta do is go join the race with him. You’ve got a disease inside you .It’s making you weak and this is your cure. Your holy remedy.” He points out the spectacle awaiting them. Cash stared at her warily like he was expecting her to back out now. “Are you gonna be a quitter or will you buck up and be a real winner. It’s your choice.”

Half these guys were doped up. Anyone could crash and burn. Forever, lit up in flames. Caught in a state of no return. The ultimate no return she’d escaped.Amma didn’t chase death like these mad dogs. It chased her.

Liv nudged him hard.”Cool it man, she’s not ready. Not for this.”

“Liv. So help me god. I will dance on your grave in this life and the next. Let her choose for herself what she wants. This ain’t about me, this ain’t about you. It’s about her”. His gravelly voice was intense.

With a scowl, the other woman quieted , taking a drag from her spliff.

Cash levels his stare back at Amma who is frowning. Conflicted. Weak had stung her like acid. She felt it settle in her gut with the rest of her bad feelings and pile there.

He was waiting for her to speak up. Glaring at her, almost. That same look, like he can see right through you. The engines roared wildly in the background, it was animalistic.

She caught the madness in his expression.

He was testing her.

A split second passes. And slowly her mouth contorted into a lopsided smile.

“I’ll do it . For real, I’ll join the race. I'm not a fucking chicken”.

“Never said you were”. Cash snapped back.

“All I’m saying is you gotta come back to yourself. Instead of walking around like you’re already dead. Amma, are you dead?”.

“No”.

“How geared up are you? Onna scale of 1-100. How bad do you wanna feel alive tonight ”. It had been a while since he talked crazy like this . She’d never seen Cash on dope but this was as close to the image as she would get.

“I’m at fifty fucking thousand”.

He wore a look of pride then.

“Ain’t that right. Bigshot”. They slapped palms. Like old times.

Liv watched the pair uneasily but she threw her a thumbs up. Amma almost felt bad she got dragged into this ritual. Cash was cooking up. Key word: Almost felt bad. She was just a passenger, only along for the ride.

Amma was taking the driver's seat. Ready to prove herself. Wash the weak out of her.

“Go on ahead kid.I’ll find you later.”

He let her go off alone.

Amma caught a glimpse of him under the hood; it was like staring at death itself. She crossed the orange cones of the lane, ignoring the folks who were yelling at her to get off the road ‘fore you get hurt mama’.

Amma strolled up to the stranger’s beat up harley. She wiped away the cold sweat on her forehead, even though it was freezing.

She tapped his shoulder, hesitantly. Nothing scary about riding on some death machine. Nothing is. The last six years she’d learned that.

“Now I’m not tryna be a bother to you or stick my nose where it doesn't belong... But is it okay if I race with you, mister?” Amma tried to level her voice. Making herself seem unbothered as she gathered her thoughts.

Buck up and be a real winner.

You’re a killer, remember?

Amma isn't gonna back down not now. Not when she was geared up to a hundred, like this.

The hooded guy didn’t turn his head around as she fidgeted, waiting for his answer.

Finally, he nodded slowly. Amma climbs up on the saddle with him, her hands to herself, not on him.

“It’s not safe to ride without a helmet”.

Amma gives the back of his head a good look.

“If you’re not wearing a helmet. Then I’m sure as hell not going to.”

“That’s okay.” He said casually.”Hold on then. I'm not pumping the brakes or stopping neither. This is a one way street. There are rules to this. When I step on this pedal, We‘re flying. There is no turning back.”

“Alrighty then.”

The man with the hood chuckled, his shoulders shook slightly. She stared at the back of his head confused.

“He told me this girl’s a smart one. Mean but clever . Amma the almighty . He chuckled to himself.” Glad he wasn’t wrong”.

Amma doesn’t know why Cash bought her here. It felt like he was sending her to the reaper but she wasn’t scared. She wanted this.

All of the shaky, sputtering engines revved to a screech. She’d never inhaled so much chrome in her lifetime. The smoke was choking her, even more, clogging her lungs as she coughed. The sounds of the motorcycles reached the black hole of the night they were in. A corrosive state of no return. She’d been close to this before. Death was hiding here, in the smoke of these engines.

Keep your wits about you. Don’t get lost. She held onto it. His voice rang in her head.

“Racers, on your marks”

The hooded man let his hands lay still on the bars.

“Get, Set”

His hands didn’t move. They were shiny, like he’d been burned.

“Go”.

She couldn’t breathe as all her air was sucked in.

A growling sound stabbed the air, it echoed across the open road, devouring the mileage ahead, hungrily. With the twist of the throttle, they repelled, she swore she heard the man let out a guttural laugh, as it was ripped from his chest by the propelling of them being shot forward and suddenly they were feather-light. Flying at the speed of light, she gripped onto this man’s hoodie tight the way she’d seen old women do to their rosaries.

They sliced through the traffic of vehicles like lightning, quick, weaving dangerously close to each bike as he swerved toward a bend to the road. Her heel touched the cement for a second. The seat felt hot like it would catch fire and erupt into flames. Burn them both down to ash and drop them both dead on the concrete. She imagined yellow tape around them. Around her unblinking form.Her heart was ramming in her chest, slowing down as the world melted into a whirlpool, as they shot forward along the treeline of the road.This vortex she’d been sucked into and was never leaving. A cry erupted from her chest. He was carrying her onto the yellow brick road, no braking, no slowing down.

Along the track, They neared a valley of rocks that jutted out , the ground had been cleaved bare, they bumped along, with every hazardous movement.Frantic,She was sliding off the saddle slowly, with every push forward,

Amma’s widened eyes flitted over to his boot, which was stepping hard onto the gas pedal. So hard it could’ve broken. Should’ve broken. Ear splitting pressure built up around them, as they were thrown faster and faster. To the reaper, to the pits of hell and brimstone.

Right towards those rocks, stone sticking out of the pine floor .

The thrill and dark feeling was gone. All that was left was awe.

Amma dug her nails into his shoulder. She grit her teeth down so hard it should’ve shattered in her tangy mouth.

He was gunning it straight ahead .About to kill them both, forever.

She shut her eyes closed.

And welcomed it, as every ounce of air was ripped away from her.

Amma still couldn’t breathe.

She understood why Cash had told her to keep her wits. It was all melting away. At that moment, she was drunk on it. They were sailing, full speed ahead. She was about to fall off, By the time he'd violently jerked the motorcycle, she’d wondered if she could survive without air forever.Somewhere along the way, she’d lagged her ankle behind and skinned it somehow and she hadn’t noticed it. She was scared of nothing. Nothing scared her .It was the only useful prayer in her head.

“Open your eyes.”

She heard the stranger’s raspy voice but it came from nowhere. It was barely above a whisper, soft and breathy you’d lose it easily. Crowds of people were cheering and whistling sharply at their bikes losing momentum. Skidding to a quick stop, past the finish mark.

A manic laugh bubbled up inside of her. Warm and new.

Every other loser was miles behind them.

“You should get going now. M’sure you got someone waiting on you, Amma. Find them”.

Her eyes widened .

“No. Take me for another lap. I’ll pay you. Just name the price. Put me back on the road again.”

“This was only a favor from an old friend”.

He pulled his hood down further. Hiding his face from hers.

“Amma. Go home to your family.”

She swallowed down the bitter saliva clogged in her throat.

There were no words to say.

He nodded at her silence and drove off until the night hugged him and he was gone.

Lost to the wind.

It took her twenty minutes to elbow through torsos and tanned hide jackets before catching sight of Cash’s tall frame and Liv who had a terrified look on her face.

“I saw you speeding past us. Bigshot. Like a devil on wheels.”

Amma grinned faintly, at the change in nickname. No more little lady.

Cash was standing next to her, his arms folded.

She ran to go hug him.

She quickly pulled away before he could return the gesture. There was so much she needed to thank him for. Especially, this.

“Were you scared, killer.“

She shook her head no , a little too fast, it made her sick. The floor felt like it was gonna give out from under her. Her guts churned from the strain, as she held herself.

“Alright now.Come back.Shake it off”. He stared at her intently. He seemed worried.

Cash didn’t need to be concerned, she thought, glancing back to the road, wistfully.

She was meant to chase this. To get to the point of no return, collide right into it and crash head on.

“You good?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I'll be fine. She softly placed a hand on his flannel sleeve, then let it fall to her side..

“I promise. Let’s go home now .”

[havemercyonus]

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐲

Told from the perspective of Wayne D’Hondt. 1997.

Wayne moved into a dead girl's trailer. Better said, a girl who had died there. Dead and discarded like the least favorite bread in a stack. News didn’t cover it, even though it had happened about six months ago. Old news dies down, just like wildfires do. Girls gone. Another girl gone. Same old, same old story.

They all looked the same to him. It didn’t matter what color their hair was, or how many moles they had on their shoulders or armpits, or whether they had cartoons inked above their chest or tramp stamps. Wallowing in their squalor, like a history of sad things, looking toward hope. Throwing copper into wishing wells with eyes closed, fingers crossed.

Wayne paid them no mind.

He saw the old owner of the trailer in a tiny column of a nobody newsletter. It was edges of her face. In grainy contrast. Print hadn’t come out correct but they’d released it anyway. She was sitting at a booth of a diner. With a little sister on her lap. he guessed the sister part. Didn’t concern himself it was true or not.

Wayne didn’t count the big sister as pretty. More like a specter from a Frankenstein novel. She belonged in Victorian literature as a weeping widow, not in the Southwest. The girl with red hair looked like she had just finished crying when she was alone. She rarely smiled. Only pouted like a child denied a toy. A crybaby. She had to have had a nickname like that before, Wayne thought. She reminded him of a garden statue. A cherub you’d seen on an old woman’s lawn. Better left to a garage sale.

Wayne was good at wondering, though. He wondered about the lividity they had found on her. A mortician’s curiosity And then, he felt nothing. What had happened before she’d been found missing, how old she could’ve been and if she was a runaway. He mulled it over as he scratched away the Hello Kitty stickers left on the fridge.

He had to clean up tiny scraps everywhere.

There was a purple sparkly plastic shoe of a Barbie under the bathroom sink, which was leaking and duct taped. Wayne grimaced.

When he fixed all the broken things and he noticed, the smell of baby shampoo, the rusted faucet was running as if a bath was being ran. It made him uncomfortable.

Wayne went to the smaller room instead. Eager to get away from the smell of the shampoo it bothered him more than having to fix that dang sink.

The girl who died left practically nothing behind in there for him to clean up except a mural on the pastel wall. It was full of meaningless crayon scribbles. But at it’s center were two girls holding hands on what was a patch of green field surrounded by cattle. One was taller, the other looking up at her. Her, the big sister had big weepy eyes while the little one was holding her hand . Hiding behind her. It could’ve passed for a cave painting. This needed to be strung up in a museum somewhere.

Wayne hummed, looking at the stick figures . He contemplated about it. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi.

And he left it alone. No need to bother them.

You had to squint real hard to get a good look at the vinyl flooring. Wayne grimaced. It was sticky from who knew what. Apple juice, or honey?. The whole joint gave him the impression of a basket of wet laundry left in his closet. Then there was the smell of the baby shampoo. It was milky, like cream of wheat. Is that what her little sister ate.

Wayne made a note to buy air freshener. To get rid of the smell.Then crossed it out. Make friends with her . The dead girl. He could not remember who she was. Wayne remembered things worth remembering.

New words to remember swam around in his head as he leaned against the door of the kid’s room. Lividity. Missing young woman. Caveman Paintings. Baby shampoo. Sticky floors. Milk. The big sister with weepy eyes.

What were her thoughts before she went gone.?

Gotta do laundry. Scrub the crayon off the walls. Gotta get some guy over here to fix this stupid sink. Give the lil one breakfast. Don’t forget to wash her hair with that new stuff. Clean this nasty floor with bleach. He thought she did all of this while pacing back and forth.

Wayne really tried to bully himself into caring more about what her messy life could’ve been. There it was again. Nothing.

He had the heart of someone who’d grown surrounded by impressions left on cadavers. Bruises , lacerations and gravel wasn’t uncommon.

He’d seen their messy insides , held their rib ages apart with cold unloving metal clamps to pick out their ugly parts and sewn them together so their loved ones could grieve without gagging . Cadavers weren’t living, laughing, chewing real life people.

Even so, Wayne found peace with them. He only dealt with the adults, though . The ones that had, been given the time to grow. He didn’t like dealing with children. It felt wrong to see them get to a date meant for them to reach much later in their sorry lives. Time stole them away, or it kept them waiting for worse.

As he stood in the kid’s room, he imagined her tired big sister joining her

underneath the covers to keep her warm. No one would freeze as long as she was there.

Wayne couldn’t picture that kid ever growing up for some reason.

Not here.

He gently closed the door to her room and made a note to not move any of his belongings in there.

[havemercyonus]

Dear Supporter,

I hope this message finds you and your family in good health. My name is Eman Zaqout from Gaza. I am reaching you out to seek your urgent help in spreading the word about our fundraiser. I lost both my home and my job due to the ongoing genocide in Gaza and we are facing catastrophic living conditions. 💔

I kindly ask you to visit my campaign. Your support, whether through donating or sharing, will help us reach more people who can make a difference. Thank you for your continued support for the Palestinian cause. Your dedication brings us closer to freedom. 🙏🕊

Note: Verified by several people as 90-ghost and aces-and-angels. ☑

Even, though I only post stories on this account. I want to boost this!!!

[havemercyonus]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫

𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟏

When Amma was in the seventh grade, shauna’s older sister got practically hitched to this metal loon named Cash. He dressed like a devil worshipper, was what her dad said anytime they came back up from church. She told him that was rude to say and he told her if she ever dressed like that she was getting out out. Amma never talked about him at home again.

Cash moved into Mary-Dell𝗌 apartment within two months of their dating and hadn't left since. Shauna said it was cause he paid more than half the bills. But you could tell Mary was sweet on him. Even , though he had a kid half her age. She knew he was from the Ozarks too, a real secluded town called Serotha.

Cash definitely couldn't stand her sister or Amma. Anytime he came home and saw her sitting on their sofa, she could see the annoyance gassing up to ask why she wouldn't leave their place till late.

Her parents gave away at asking where she snuck off to at this age. An older boy had been looking her way and they couldn't stop her from running off to go looking for Jimmy. He smelled like sour strawberries and ash. They shot at shit together in a corn field. With a gun he was given by his daddy. He was always looking down at her. Grabbing her chin a bit too harshly. Making her feel small. But she wouldn’t quit on going back to him. He understood her more than anyone did. And Jimmy wouldn’t have let her leave if she tried

She had a whole lot of freedom, no kid shouldve ever had. Amma wasn’t sure to know whether to be glad or sad about it. All she knew was that Cash saw something in her whenever she came around Shauna. It was sad too. But he never gave her pity. Good, because she didn’t need it no matter what.

Like this one day, she messed up the carpet at her place when sleeping over. He acted like she tore a damn hole in the wall with a hammer....

“Okay, Someone's ass is getting kicked tonight. Who went and spilled sum damn nail polish on the new carpet.” Cash kissed his teeth as he entered the living room of his girlfriend's apartment like he always does when one of the kids went and pissed him off. “We’re not returning this thing when it was just bought. Who spilled it or everyone's going to bed right the fuck now.”

Amma and his girlfriend's little sister, Shauna avoided his gaze, pretending not to care about his sudden mood change. She heard a giggle and pinched her friend while the 24-year-old man looked at the rude preteens, bored.

He was the babysitter of the sleepover since his girlfriend was knocked out at only 8 pm. He had a bag of s'mores materials they were planning to make. Usually, they got to tag along to head to the store this late and pester him about buying extra snacks but he told them to stay put.

Cash could be nice and mean. Didn't matter if Mary was awake or asleep. If they acted out he made sure to tell em.

“Can you keep your voice down? You're scaring us”. Amma fake pouted while Shauna collapsed into giggles and tried to hide behind her where they sat on the sofa.

“I don't know how you've always done things at your home, but even you should know how to have respect.” He said, narrowing his eyes at the two of them like he was gearing to grab a wooden spoon. Amma had been threatened by him before. Said he'd tape two spoons together and whack the girls on their heads but she always taunted him evilly cause he wouldn't actually do anything.

Shauna pointed at her.” I told her not to let it dry”. She threw her under the bus all the time.

“No one likes a snitch.” Cash looked unimpressed with her honesty then turned to her friend.

”Go Clean it up Amity .”

He used her first name when he was annoyed, which her mothers did when she was being picked up from detention twice a week now. And it worked because it stung. He didn't know that.

At this, Amma knew she could easily get up and leave their apartment. Tell him to get out her face, stomp off, and never come back. She watched Cash stare her down with his tattooed arms crossed and she stared him down like they were two goats rearing to butt horns and one of the two would end up with a huge knot on their forehead. Hers first, since he's built like a great Dane.

Amma never wanted to leave. If she could trade a brother he'd be first in line, she thought wistfully. Her face must be given away to looking sullen because Cash gave up his usual frown for a second as he watched her. Like he could read her damn mind.

“Fine” Amma shoved past Shauna to go grab a washcloth from the kitchen. “Mary should really find a new boyfriend soon. You're the worst”.

“Get it cleaned. Without the attitude”. Amma stomped on his pinky toe, she hurried in stride. She met with a harsh flick to the ear.

Shauna’s older sister, Mary-Dell was slumped over yellow tax papers with Cash’s daughter poking at her back. Cash glared at Amma before picking up his child who obliged to being whisked away to get ready for bed

She spent half an hour scrubbing at the carpet, cursing under her breath. Hearing the occasional “ I heard that” from the kitchen as the smell of burnt sugar, melted marshmallows, and chocolate wafted from the oven, as he finally picked up an entire tray with his BARE hands.

Cash set it down and walked over to check on the carpet. She'd scrubbed it bare and clean. Spickety span, without any trace of pink glitter paint.

She looked up to see him give her a small smile, then he nodded over to the kitchen table where everyone was now digging in

“You're off the hook.” Cash tried to sound stern, but she caught the hint of a grin he couldn’t quite hide.

Amma cracked up at him, failing to stay mad at her and Cash rolled his eyes, kissing his teeth again.

Even still, he always opened the door for her.

That’s why Amma ran to go find him again.

He was mad when he saw her , banging on the glass of a bar he apparently owned. Serotha was small enough to ask around about a tallish guy with gauges and the meanest scowl to ever walk the earth.

Call her childish, but when he stormed up to tell her to quiet down and stopped in his tracks. She almost started crying then and there.

......

“Cash, I need help…” She pressed her head against the headrest, shivering a little. He was closing up shop, so he told her to sit in the truck. Cash was staring at her weirdly. Amma’s hair had grown out past the bob she used tob carry it in. She looked five years older. Jimmy liked that. She didn’t.

“You’re the only person who can still help me out. I can’t go back home. I...just neef to to help me figure this out and then’ll I be outta yer hait. I promise.“ She started rumbling till he put a hand up.

She's feeling brave with telling him the truth now, and that's enough to make her wanna run out his truck and never look back.

Mindlessly, Cash furrowed his eyebrows at her shivering. He flicked the heater knob, letting the low hum fill the silence as he tried to process what she said.

“What’s you being knocked up got to do with me?” He asked in a low voice. But his hardened featured were softening.“Amma, I been outta prison for a year. If you aren’t getting rid if it then I can’t take this kid for you.“

That had crossed her mind more than she could count. She’d thought of doing it herself, too. Pain didn’t scare her anymore. Being trapped did. But..she kept holding her breath and sticking it out. This thing didn’t deserve to not get a chance with someone who could actually love it.

“No, I’m saying. All I need is a job or some cash to go get a room at the 6. Whatever you got, I’ll be grateful for. Just don’t turn me away. Please.” Amma swallowed. She doesn’t look at him, and he hears her holding her breath.Her eyes are kept on the work leather on the dashboard. There's a lazy cat running across ice in front of them. She’s shivering, so he grabs a blanket from the back seat and hands it to her.

She draped it over her shoulders as he lets out a tired sigh.

“

“Still don’t what you want me,” Cash said, playing with the heater dial. But he couldn’t look away or shake the wonder. “Spotting you some money ain’t a problem. But I’m not your saint. You’re better off asking the idiot that got you knocked up for help not me.” He let out a breath of air, it sounds like a shocked laugh.

She doesn’t laugh with him. “I’m serious about this.”

“I am too.”

“If I’d done my job as some good role model, then when I told you and Shauna to keep your head in the books and stay away from ugly ass boys looking to mess around… did you listen to me then?”

“Barely,” she mumbled.

“Cause you’ still act like a kid and you’re pregnant .… what went on when I got locked up. What happened to you before you got to town?”

She couldn’t help making a face at him being rude again. But without a word, she pulled a knee up to her chest, shifting so her sweatpants unfolded and revealed the nasty scar on her calf.

“You asked me why the dad ain’t here to help me out with this shit.” Cash stared at the scar, like he’s about to get angry. He braced a hand over his mustache, muttering “Jesus Christ” under his breath.

She’s never seen him cry, but he looked pretty close to it right now. He wouldn’t, though. Cash wouldn’t be selfish enough to take this moment away from her while she could still speak without feeling gross about it. She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d fought in some war, nothing shakes him. Amma couldn’t help but feel both jealousy and a strange pride that didn’t belong to her.

“Is the… the guy dead”.

She looked out the window, her knee pulled up on his chair, dirtying the car with her ratty tennis shoes like he used to yell at her not to do. “Just drive, Cash.”

“I don’t blame you if he’s dead.” Cash brushed a hand over the back of his hair. “Judge me for thinking that, but anyone who does that to a girl should be shot dead.” His words were slow, as if he was trying to make sure she understood he wasn’t pointing a finger.

She doesn't know what to say to that. The fact she knows he's speaking as low as he can as if she's gonna run off.

“We’ll figure this out.” He gestured to what she was covering up with the hoodie he bought her because the one she had in her backpack had a hole in its pocket. Amma didn’t want to talk about it. “I can find a contact that needs another mouth to feed. Just let me handle things, okay?” Seven more months left to go. Seven more months before she’d have to get lost, as he put it.

“Yknow what forget what I said,” she shrugged, grasping for normalcy. “Can we go get waffles ? I’m hungry.”

He looks at very, steely like he's searching for something and then finally sighs. Maybe he didn't find a what he was looking for.

Cash sighed, turning the key in the ignition. “Sure. But don’t ask to get off my plate. When we get there, I’m ordering three full plates of waffles. Two for you, so don’t ask for none of mine..” He scolded her.

“Fine.” She huffed.

Despite, being sadly put off by his bitchy attitude upon seeing a familiar face. She liked sitting in this truck, driving with him around like he was about to take her to school with her best friend, when he still had a car seat in the back. Like the old days. It’s like she was a kid again.

He drove them to a green diner that was packed because it was Sunday morning, because neither of them goes to church.

And when the waiter asks for their order, she tells him two, then takes half the stack from his plate.

[havemercyonus]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞

*this is a short story connected to the main storyline. none of the short stories are in chronological order.

CW’s for birth trauma, postpartum depression behaviors and mentions of murder

Serotha General Hospital

April 4th, 1992

11:03 PM

Amma hated the baby. It was a tiny, red, screaming thing. She hated it for causing the throbbing pain in her spine. Amma hated it being so close.She pinched its foot and let it lie on her chest, wiping its hairline with her own cheek as tears threatened to fall. She held them back in defiance of feeling sorry for herself. The nurse didn’t dare ask her a question or make small talk, the woman only cleaned her off and handed the baby back.

Amma stared off into space, counting down the minutes until she would give it away. Cash was outside, speaking to a couple he’d found. He’d given her a spare hairtie before she kicked him out. A family with two adult daughters looking to fill their spaces. Of all she’d done, the least she could offer was a chance at a nice future. The couple was poor, but not as poor as she’d been, napping at bus stations. She glanced over her shoulder, waiting for the police to burst in and arrest her.

“Your dad is dead,” she whispered into the baby’s ear, light enough so the nurse wouldn’t look over her shoulder. “I killed him and I’m not sorry. .”

The baby cooed.

They took the baby out of the room for a checkup. Something’s wrong. Cash still hadn’t gone back in. Maybe he’d left her alone, tired of her mooching off him for the last nine months. He’s not her friend; what does it matter?. He made it clear how distant he’d tried to be with their whole ordeal. No one was gonna help her with this.

Amma waited for news alone , hands clammy with uncertainty.

“Where is she?” she asked the nurse, whose scrubs looked overused and worn to the brink.

“She has a heart murmur. Usually, they’re innocent, but occasionally they can be a sign of a defect. After your blood test results came back, we noticed your white blood cell count is low, and you have moderate botulism. You’re likely more immune to infections, as well as weak bone health.” She gestured to the surgical stitch on her lower spine. “You haven’t been to an obstetrician. In case of any future complications I’ll need to talk to the adoptees ” the nurse explained slowly.

. Right, the baby’s new parents. Amma chose to ignore the last part of the sentence

Her nerves had been on edge for thirty hours and it couldn’t take another break.

“Wassat mean?” Amma’s voice slowly rose up an octave . “Can’t you do your job correctly? You already split me open! What else is there to do. My back hurts, and now you’re saying she’s sick?”

The machines beeped to a rhythm; her sheets were scratchy, like the ones in the motels she slept in. She’d have to find a new place soon if Cash was ever out of his mind to hire her. He’s not in here, she reminded herself.

“Ma’am, do you really want to keep this child?”. The woman wore a silver cross, a simple one like her father wore. If only he’d known his fears would come true.

“I…..”. Amma couldn’t muster up an answer for her.

The nurse’s tan features softened.

“It’s common for young mothers to change their minds. I don’t know what you’ve been through. I don’t know your story and you could get me fired for getting too personal. But I’m telling you if this kid stays yours. Please be kind to her… and yourself . As young as you are, accept help when it’s given and don’t be so stubborn, when there are hands here in this hospital, and outside of this room to help you .” The nurse sighed and left.

Motionless like a corpse, Amma listened to the beeps of cold machines.

That pain in her back throbbed away, out of place to its tune.

[havemercyonus]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱: 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐚

CWs - attempted murder, violence, cannibalism **

This is a horror story reader discretion advised.

July 4th, 1991

The path they were walking on looked like a torn-up wound, straight from the earth, dragging Amma down so deep, she couldn’t make sense of anything. Her ears gave up, her eyes might as well have been closed, and her hands? Useless. It was just her and the wild, nothing solid to cling to. Dew, clear as glass, clung to wilted daisies, and the air carried a raw, freshly skinned smell.

“Motherfucker, I should’ve stayed at the cabin. I’m getting torn up by these mosquitoes, you prick,” Amma complained, as Rufus hummed, leading the way. “You hear me? I wanna go back.” She stopped as a copperhead slithered out, its eyes burning like hot coals. It coiled tight, like it was waiting for her to say something. Amma almost laughed, thinking how stupid it’d be if it spoke first.

She followed Rufus ahead, her feet dragging like they were headed to some altar, but there wasn’t any joy in it. Hell, what a shame to feel like a bride. In another life, they’d be married into a two-bedroom trailer, have black-haired babies, and she’d serve pancakes to pervs at a ‘60s diner. Neither of them fit into that fantasy, and a bitter rebellion sparked inside her at the thought of her parents disapproval.

She imagined her dad crashing the ceremony, fuming at her in a white dress, while her gun-toting husband spat fruit pits in his face. She giggled. Rufus glanced back, satisfied, misreading the humor.

The moment soured. He was mumbling to himself like he did when he had a secret idea he wasn’t ready to share. They walked through pure wildness. Sticks scratched the sides of her arms.

“This is as far as I’m going. Let’s turn back; it’s too far.”“Did you hear me?” Amma’s voice sounded uncertain and unheard just as he stopped. A vein in his neck seemed to tighten.

“It’s just around the corner, Ams. Be patient.” He buzzed with excitement, his grin widening. The gaps between his teeth stretched as he continued mumbling. She felt more alone as they neared a willow tree next to a dilapidated shack held together by bark and crumbling shingles.

Her father used to preach about a spirit, pounding his fist against his suede suit. “I feel the spirit here,” he’d say, almost angry. “It’s in my bones. God gave me this strength to lend to you today.”

Dread filled Amma’s stomach in the same way those sermons did, the same way her dreams of swallowing blood and skin made her choke. She stood paralyzed for a moment.

“This is special to me. Promise not to ruin it, okay?” Rufus held out his pinkie finger. She hesitated but linked hers with his. His grip tightened before pulling away. “I made it for you.”

The spirit was in her now too, pulsing through her veins, intoxicating her.

“Open it,” she rasped. The shed seemed to vibrate as his hand hovered over the lock. The air between them was thick with something unspoken, something dangerous.

Rufus unlocked the door, stepping back to let her enter first.

“After you, your highness.”

The sight of the stones with symbols carved into them didn’t alarm her at first.

It was the smell of game, faint splatters of blood from his kills that hit her. Tiny white worms wriggled through cracks in the wooden floor. It reminded her of hunting trips with her dad and brothers after Sunday sermons.

She wrinkled her nose at the mess of her “gift”.

“This where you keep those squirrels you’ve been shooting at?” Amma pointed to a box of coolers lined against the shed wall. The wet, twisting sounds made her wonder if he’d caught fish.

He stayed silent behind her.“Go on, open them for me,” he finally said, his voice flat. “Your gift’s waiting.”

Amma cocked her head.

“Rufus, you got me fish as a gift? Wow, I’m so impressed,” she teased, irritated that he was standing behind her.

The shed door shut with a click, and her heart skipped a beat.

“Get from behind me,” Amma said, her voice trembling.

“Open the cooler, Amma. Please.”

The “please” soothed her a little, made him sound like the Rufus she knew. Begging to be subdued. She bent down, her shorts chafing her thighs as she lifted the cover of the cooler. A foul odor hit her.

She opened it and gagged.

“That one’s full, so I’ll have to toss one to add yours,” Rufus said casually, stepping closer to peer inside, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Amma screamed.

It wasn’t fish. It was hearts. Bloated and floating in a murky soup.

Rufus placed his hands on her shoulders, gently squeezing.

“You trusted me. Now I’m sharing mine with you, babe.”

Her heart pounded in her chest, her own pulse roaring in her ears. “You want to hurt me.”

The shed melted into a sludge of shadows. She should fear God, should have from the start. Lord, she was a fool. A rumble built in her, telling her to take, take, take before he took everything from her.

Rufus sounded almost sad. “Ams, it won’t hurt if you love me. Don’t struggle.”

“You want to hurt me,” she repeated, her hands trembling as they gripped her head. “YOU WANT TO HURT ME!”

Before she could move, Rufus lunged at her with a knife. She slapped at his chest, but he overpowered her.

“I love you. Don’t you get it?” he growled.

She saw his face, his cowboy hat, his scars, the gaps in his teeth. He was going to kill her. Her shoulder knocked into the wall, sending stones crashing to the floor. He roared.

“You’re ruining it!” His voice was pure fury now, the kind she recognized. Her face was wet, but she wasn’t crying. Fear God. Fear God, but it wasn’t working as he yanked her wrist, pulling her down.

Amma screeched, “You’re not going to kill me!” She imagined the leash around his neck, yanking it tight until it snapped, but her hands shook as she tried to push him away. He held her leg down, to keep her from shaking as he tried to get at her heart. But the knife in his hand knicked the length of her calf, as she screamed again.

He struggled to pin her down. Rufus was a blur of skin and rage, his knife aimed at her heart.

She closed her eyes, snot mixing with her flavored chapstick. Chapstick felt childish now. She was a child, after all, she hadn’t even graduated. And she was going to die, killed by the boy who claimed to love her.

The thought made her open her eyes one last time.

She saw the blue in his eyes, the gold flecks dancing like a wild dog. The back of his neck, the spot where she had bit him once taunted her.

Another stone crashed to the floor.

Fear God. No, fear me.

Amma let out a guttural scream, sinking her teeth into his neck, biting down with all her strength. Rufus howled in pain, blood spurting from the wound.

His knife clattered to the ground, and she grabbed it with trembling hands.

Fear God, fear me.

Rufus collapsed on top of her, but she shoved him aside.

Fear me.

She plunged the knife into his heart.

He shuddered violently, his body spasming as blood poured from his neck. The spirit enveloped her now, thick and suffocating.

She turned his blubbering body over, leaned down, and pressed her lips to his neck.

————————————————————————

Amma came out her trance, inebriated.

When it was over Amma was struggling not to chuck whatever she had scarfed down , she laid against the shed floor, gasping out of breath. Rufus was gone, and she scrambled off the floor to search for at glimpse of him with his knife ready to pierce her.

Her knees had been scratched raw by the nails in the floorboards of the shed. It was sunset and he was gone, but why?

“You’ve done something terrible.” Her parents said one night, snuck back in the house from running to her boyfriend who was good then. They gave up on any notion she was innocent. But Amma was a child then and she was child now.

She did something you weren’t supposed to speak of.

Her face was drenched but not in tears, she felt thickly submerged in something slow moving. Amma tried to get off her hands and knees to walk but they crumpled like the newborn foals she saw in pastures out this far from the city.

When she fell back to the floor, and slipped. Amma stalled in accepting what , no who it was.

Rufus Van Hauser.

She ate him. And it had satisfied her. The need to own what wanted to attack her was gone. But Amma as dazed,

The silence in the shed, nearly made her think she had lost her hearing. Her eyes flicked around in every direction. Something to latch onto and never let go of as she had done to Rufus’s body for hours, she needed an anchor.

His cowboy hat laid untouched inches away from her hand.

Splayed out, Amma grabbed for it hungry with need.

She laid against the cold floor, full and waited for morning to come. Amma was utterly alone since the beginning

————————————————————————

Six weeks later, August 15th, 1991

She left the shed and the cabin weeks ago and had burned her clothes and dragged Rufus into a nearby lake they used to swim in.

Amma sat on a bench, mute and determined to not speak to at stranger that pretended to be kind. She snapped at everyone, as she stared emptily and forced the edge of her ticket down into her skin. Anything to feel real and remember what had been done at the cabin.

She bought a ticket to a town, she’d heard before. Amma peered at it, ignoring the leer of an elderly man straining to the destination on it.

Serotha, Oklahoma. Adair County is its official seat. Shauna and her had known a guy there as teenagers. He could be in jail for all she knew but it was worth a shot. It was a dumb idea but Amma didn’t believe there was anything she wasn’t capable of surviving though.

The bus winded down the road in front of her. MegaBus, she chose specifically. Not a greyhound this time.

Amma stood up from the cold metal of the seat, gathering her new cowboy hat and leftover clothes in her ratty backpack she’d started out with. Nothing was left behind. Even Rufus , who now sat in her stomach, she thought strangely both bothered and content with this new reality.

The bus passengers were beginning to board one by one, and cut in the middle of the line, despite being cursed at.

“Hey watch where you’re going”. An older woman moved to grab her arm but Amma turned around and hissed.

“Try it and you’re walking away with four fingers”. She felt sick with herself using this new part of her as a threat. Had Rufus felt this menacing when he walked her to shed . A predator coming out of in plain sight.

“Friggin, animal”. Amma heard the woman retort before she relented.

She had no idea how right she was.

Still waiting in line, Amma decided to forget him for a moment and focus on Serotha. She pictured it as quaint hillside that looked like a hallmark card with wild thoroughbreds prancing around .

As the thought settled in, a slow ache began to bloom in her insides. It grew and grew till she pushed the man in front of her aside to throw up on the front of the bus. Protests erupted from the driver as she hugged herself from the onslaught of sickness from eating the boy who loved her.

When Amma boarded with her backpack , after cleaning up with pocket tissues, she placed her new hat on top of her eyes to sleep.

A baby cried from two aisles ahead of her. Hearing its cries, made her think of black hair and blue eyes. Not his, but another softer pair.

The bus surged onto Serotha, the baby cried louder from the motion and rang in her ears loudly.

It hit her then and Amma felt her heart drop.

There was one more thing she hadn’t run away from…

[havemercyonus]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐀𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤

CW’s for violence, vague recount of childhood sexual abuse and gore . if it’s not clear, the current main character is a cannibal and these acts are not condoned by me. This is a horror story , readers discretion advised. PS: there will be a time jump to the present storyline soon.

July, 4th, 1991

Her younger sister Nova always preferred to sleep with the lights off, and Amma would protest, even though she was the oldest of five. If her mother had even bothered to console her during those first nights, lying in the dark, maybe it would’ve been different. But Amma had learned early on that the monsters lurking in the shadows were nothing compared to the ones in the light—the ones with wandering hands that made her unafraid of God and what she couldn’t see.

She didn’t fear the Devil or his father. It was people that made her skin crawl the most. Even her weird dreams and midnight urges creeped her out too.

They felt like promises of the future.

Now, as Amma lay next to Rufus, sharing his warmth, she had finally forgone keeping a knife next to her whenever they blew out the candles and closed their eyes or counted the rot creeping along the wooden ceiling. She closed her eyes to find her teeth against his nape, nape against teeth, and the sweet taste of iron swirling in her mouth. One more mark to give to the many that adorned him. Rufus was covered in marks all over like he’d even drawn on with sharp glass. He didn’t look like the kid who grew up on getting fed much either. They’re the same height and both eighteen but he’s pale and skinny. Skittish like a spooked horse and pink scars all over him she wanted to touch forever. But there was this wall between them.

He never told her how many women had come before her, but the easy grin he wore whenever he overstepped said enough. He always wanted to be closer, too close, and it overwhelmed her in a way that crawled beneath her skin.

When she bit him in a lust-drunk stupor two nights ago, just as she’d always fantasized about doing to Shauna when they were younger, he had been eager—dumb and blissed out, like the time she and Shauna stole ecstasy from her older sister’s stash. Rufus always got too eager, and it bothered her, like he was trying to burrow himself inside her lungs. But this time, Amma didn’t feel like she was giving herself up to him. Even with the fear that he might strike her, she felt safe, stronger even, as she swallowed blood and skin that tasted faintly of toothpaste, the hardened kind you scraped off sinks . She didn’t like being that close to anyone unless she warranted it first. But now, it felt like she was wrapping his leash tighter around his neck, yanking it tight in her fist. He couldn’t hurt her if she was holding it, right?

But shame sat with her now.

She didn’t trust herself to be allowed this. Jimmy hadn’t broken her, the face she didn’t remember didn’t either no, she had been damned long before all of it.

———————————————————————

Rufus had brought his first girl to this vacant shed, hugging her tight as she kicked and slapped at his wrists, her nails digging into the scars on his chest. Out of character, he had yelled at her, called her a bitch, before taking her heart and tossing it with the rest. He had felt sorry for her after—it was supposed to be sweet, loving at its finest, before he sent them off into the dark to find heaven. Rufus kept their names down in his journal, written neatly like an obituary. The first had actually been a shy classmate; he struck her in the head while she was walking home on a back road. He had found a library book of hers on Eros and Psyche before tossing it into a lake, then ran back to his crazy brother and methhead mother, the buzzing in his fingertips never quite going away.

The shed had started to stink, maggots twisting in the coolers he’d stolen from three houses ago, their owners’ hearts now sitting in pulpy pools of stagnant water. Car pine fresheners couldn’t hide the stench no more. Rufus pulled his cowboy hat down low, covering his mouth and nose as he kicked aside notebook papers scattered across the floor, each sheet a name of a girl he’d brought here. The dirty work was piling up, and even he knew this mess needed purification. He’d stolen library books on mythos, hunting for ideas on how to keep the place holy. He whittled symbols into stones, placing them along the shed’s walls, though a few were still splattered with dried gore he hadn’t scrubbed off. His skinny back glistened with sweat as he hammered the stones back into place, a nail tucked between his teeth.

Rufus hadn’t found his ‘one’ yet.

Sure, he liked a few of the girls he brought back, even when they tried to gouge his eyes out. He’d felt softness for some of them—liked their hair, their plush hips under his bony hands. They found him cute, happy-go-lucky, but never handsome, and that was fine. Rufus adored telling them sweet nothings because he meant every word. His work was blessed.

He gathered some speckled ropes, a tarp he’d picked up weeks ago, and a shovel. He was going to take Amma to heaven tonight. The thought made his insides feel warm, a slow burn spreading through him.

Back at the cabin, Amma could hear the faint echo of Rufus’s voice. “What’s running around in that head of yours, Ams?” His words slid through the stale air like smoke. “Was it me? Did I do something wrong?”

“No. I’m just wondering… What’re we gonna do with ourselves after this.?”

“I don’t wanna keep playing house here for much longer,” she said, turning to face him as he shifted beneath the scratchy blanket. “This ain’t our place no more. It’s turning into a dump.”

The roof sagged under the weight of moss, and the cracked windows, clouded with dust, barely let in the fading daylight. Amma sneezed occasionally from the dust. The single porcelain bath they shared was rusting, the water was beginning to look a faint orange and brown hue.

“You’re right,” Rufus agreed, tracing a thumb along her jaw. “A pretty girl like you don’t belong in a place like this.”

“Are you just saying that to get me out of my pants again, or do you mean it?” Amma’s voice was defensive, her eyes narrowing. She leaned away from his touch, her body tense.

“Course I mean it. I’ve been honest with you this whole time. I let you feel my scars, didn’t I? Ain’t ever done that for no one before.” His thumb circled under her chin as he leaned in.

“I got a special gift to show you.” He looked at her through strands of black hair before brushing them out of his pale face. “Y’know that shed that’s always locked? I’ve been waiting to show you what I’ve been doing in there.”

Her eyes narrowed. “It better be some Van Gogh-level piece of work, ‘cause you’ve been zipping your lips about it for two months now, and I don’t like it.”

Rufus smiled lazily, leaning closer again, but something in his spirit twisted with irritation at her defiance. He wanted to make her understand, to control that pushback, but he let it drop.

“Shh. No,” he whispered, pulling her into his space. “I wanted to wait ‘til I was sure we were real for each other.”

“You doubting me?” Amma snapped, disappointment hardening her features. “I got more reason to keep my guard up than you got mosquito bites on your ass.” She was pushing him out again with her cutting remarks.

“We’ve both been hurt before,” Rufus replied softly, eyes hooded. “I had to be sure before I show you my gift.” He leaned in, his forehead almost touching hers, as if trying to breathe in her every word.

“So, will you trust me now?”

Amma’s eyes widened for a moment, then softened.

“Sure… I will.”

The celebration of the national holiday went off, from a far distance. Fireworks exploding and popping in midday. They were celebrating them two. He knew it.

Rufus kissed her roughly then.

Still tasting the blood she drew from him the night before.

[havemercyonus]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝐄𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐞

CW’s- disturbing themes such as hints of murder and graphic violence, slightly a bit suggestive at the end but it’s to understand the characters dynamics and it’s not descriptive cus I’m a minor**. This is a horror story, reader discretion advised.

Rufus had always loved hunting. Not for sport, but for the thrill of chasing something, watching it breathe hard, almost feeling the life seep out of it before the final strike. To him, that was the purest form of control—having someone completely in his grasp, when they were scared. But Amma was different. She wasn’t prey; she was something more.

He watched her in the water, eyes tracking the slow ripple of her arms, the lazy flutter of her legs. She moved like water—slipping through his fingers, never quite in his hold. But tonight, he’d make sure she understood what he knew all along. They were meant to be.

She climbed out of the lake, dripping, her skin shimmering under the moonlight. For a moment, he stood still. She caught him staring, and smiled, but there was a hesitation in her green eyes, the kind that had always stayed whenever he got close.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice softer, sensing the shift in the air between them.

“Nothing,” he replied, taking a slow step forward. “Just thinking about you.”

Her brow furrowed, the smile fading into a frown. “Thinking about me?”

He nodded, closing the distance, his pulse quickening. “Yeah. About how beautiful you are. How much I love you.”

A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face. “Rufus, you’re not making any damn sense.”

His grin was slow, forced, the smile not reaching his eyes. “It’s just like that story I told you, remember? Eros and Psyche.”

Amma paused, her body tensing slightly. “What about it?”

“Eros loved Psyche even when she couldn’t see him. They were meant to be together, even though they had to go through all kinds of trials to understand it. That’s us, Amma. It’s always been us. I could kill anyone who hurt you, Whoever made you like this, I’d kill them just to make you smile more”.

Her lips parted, her eyes scanning his face for a moment. “Rufus…”

He remembered when she’d elbowed him in the gut the third day they spent together after the long bus rides. Since then she’d opened up to him , only if she allowed it. Like when he bought her ice cones and she let him share the dye on her tongue. That was what he was searching for in all the girls he’d killed, and carved up in his shed. Amma was different from all of them. She carved him necklaces out of bone and squeezed his nape when he got out of turn. Rufus hadn’t lived before her.

He stepped closer, his voice low but intense. “I love you, Amma. Just like Eros loved Psyche. We’re supposed to be together. You’ll see that, just like she did.”

Amma held his gaze, her posture stiffening as if readying herself for something. “Rufus… this isn’t a story. You know that, right?”

“I know,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “But love’s not easy.” The knife in his pocket felt heavy but he wasn’t planning on using it till tomorrow. Now, he wanted to remember her fully, and maybe it would be easier for him to bury his knife into her chest. Take her heart for his and no one else’s . Rufus wrote it down in the journal he wouldn’t let her peep at. It was his sacred plan.

“Sometimes you have to fight for love .Just like those gods did.”

The tension between them thickened, the night air growing heavier. Amma shifted her weight, her muscles taut beneath her skin. She’d always been tough, always tried to keep her distance. But Rufus didn’t mind. He liked it when she pushed back.

She stepped closer instead of pulling away, surprising him. “Do you really believe that?” she asked, her voice firm but quiet.

“More than anything,” he answered, his eyes locked onto hers, rabid and frenzied. “I love you so, so much, it makes me do crazy things , Amma. And I’ll prove it.”

There was fear in her eyes, and something more dangerous—he couldn’t place. Her lips curved slightly, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“Then, don’t let me go”.

As the humid night closed in on them, there was no tenderness in his touch, only hunger—a need to be closer, as though he could live beneath her skin. With her, Rufus felt himself die again and again. Whatever this was, it was wild, it stung and kissed like it was the end of the world and she was the apocalypse itself.

When it was over, Rufus laid against her , drenched in sweat and musk. Amma’s hand tangled in his hair, braiding it slowly. Rufus chewed on cherries he had kept in a knapsack for them to snack on. He was thinking about tomorrow. He had touched her now, and she hadn’t pushed him away. She loved him. Rufus knew it, just like he knew the freckles on her back.

There was a bite mark at the nape of his neck that she had left. It drew blood, but Rufus didn’t care. he was hers now. Still, it pained him that she wasn’t his yet. He had to do what he had done to rest of them, it was the only way.

Tomorrow, he’d make her his by stabbing her heart and pulling it out. Only for his to keep.

She wouldn’t leave him this way. Not even in death.

[havemercyonus]

𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 “𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝“ 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐞 (𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐚)

𝐓𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𓆩♡𓆪

(will be updated frequently)

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

1.𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐲

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞: 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜

𝟏. 𝐌𝐬. 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧

𝟐. 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

𝟑. 𝐓𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐡

𝟒. 𝐄𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐞

𝟓. 𝐀𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤

𝟔. 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐚

𝟕. 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨: 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐀 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫

𝟖. 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬

[havemercyonus]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨: 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

Trigger Warning(s) for mentions of domestic violence, general violence. This is a horror story reader’s discretion advised.

……

April 27th, 1991

Pushmataha County, Oklahoma

Greyhound Bus Stop

It’s been three days since Amma ran away, and she’s out of money. No more scratchy motel sheets, no toothbrush, and her breath stinks.

Since then, she tried not to think of her parents and her siblings wondering why her bed was empty. Amma hoped her dad would be the most outraged. She wanted him to cry about his missing girl and shave his head bald , slowly going mad over her. My Amma is gone, he’d weap. She hoped he would accuse Jimmy of being the reason she was gone. He would defend her then and not be such a stick for once. Stand up for her and be a real father.

Amma hoped Jimmy would beat himself up about it too, but his crazy ass didn’t mean much to her anymore. When he started hitting her, Amma thought about killing him, late at night in his sleep. She thought about burning his hands with a lighter and cutting his tongue out many nights before she always went back to him. That, was what kept her from turning back again. She’d sooner brush her teeth with a chainsaw then go back and forgive and forget. Like her ma did to her cheating dad. Amma knew about that, too.

So she grips her bus ticket tighter and tighter. So, no one can steal this one good thing from her. She is not going back, ever.

Amma waits for the bus idly. A boy joins her. He has long black hair and bright blue eyes like they’re crystals. She remembers the knife she kept in her jacket sleeve. Any creep that wanted to mess with her would be missing his or her crown jewels. She watched the boy, warily lile a rabbit ready to scurry off.

Crumbs fall from his sun-chapped lips. Amma watches him grind the ham and cheese between his teeth, the corners of his mouth quirking up like he’s never known hunger. It’s been a day since she hopped out the fire escape when Jimmy had gotten released nights before.

Her stomach rumbles so loud, it sounds like a generator revving up inside her. He eats away, as if this is just one of many meals for the day, for the week—as if he has a healthy home to return to. The thought of such peace stirs anger deep inside her.

She wants to go back home, sit at a proper dinner table, and eat in comfort. Not the parking lot of some crappy fast food joint. But the lesson she knows best, the one life has always taught, is that good things aren’t given to you freely and choices, real choices, don’t exist.

She’s so lost in thought that she doesn’t notice the freckled hand waving in front of her face, holding out a perfectly cut triangle of bread.

“Want a bite? It’s no problem to me at all,” he says, his eyes glinting sharp, waiting. She sees he has stitches on his chest. Amma wanted to dig a finger into one, see if it hurt him much.

Amma blanks for a moment, then forces herself to say, “No thanks. I got a thing about sharing germs.” It’s not the truth, but her gaze won’t budge from the bruises blackening his knuckles, the nicks all over his crusted fingernails. His front teeth are wonky.

He shrugs, still holding the bread. “You’ll die if you don’t eat, and it looks like you haven’t inna while.”

She hasn’t eaten since yesterday morning. The boy’s right.

“My arm’s getting real tired, girl.” The tails of his coat flutter in the suffocating heat.

Amma hesitates, but it’s not poison he’s offering. Carefully, she takes it, feeling his eyes on her as she takes a bite, then another. The ham and cheese taste like cardboard, but at least it fills her up. She makes sure to frown, not letting him know she almost likes it.

���It’s not gonna disappear,” he says with a cackle, tipping his head back, the sound too warm, too happy for her taste.

“Bastard,” Amma mutters under her breath.

“Thought a gal like you would be more ladylike.” He smirks. “What happened to the germaphobia?”

Amma licks the crumbs off her thumb, all shame gone. “I look clean to you?. You must be dumber than you look ” she glares at him.

“Easy, girl“. he says, shrugging again. “ I can tell you don’t got no home to go back to, and by the looks of it. You need somewhere to crash…”

She thought back to the charm Jimmy had when he met her, leaning against her locker and smiling.

Her mind was playing tricks again.

“You’re a stranger,” Amma says. “We’ve never met, never talked, never hung out together. I don’t even know you.”

“Then get to know me,” he says, that careless shrug again. “I promise I won’t disappoint you.”

He swears a hand on his heart.

Amma has nowhere to go, and the offer hovers, just within reach. Maybe she has a choice now.

The darkness creeps in, swallowing up the stars one by one. The knife is still tucked into her jacket sleeve, just in case.

Amma stands up, shoulders relaxing. “Fine, but I’m not staying the night , and all we’re doing is hanging out. Try me and i’ll cut your tongue out , you hear?“

“Alrighty then,” he says with a grin. “My name’s Rufus Van Hauser. It’s german, how about that“.

He doesn’t ask for her name, and for that, Amma feels grateful. This is temporary, with no strings, no attachments.

“Okay, Rufus,” she says. “You got a place in mind. Where’re we staying tonight?”.

Something in his attention makes her feel strange—giddy and sick all at once.

He laughs, low and bubbling in his throat and says.

“Heaven.”

Those were some famous last words.

[havemercyonus]

Official Spotify Playlist

Official Pinterest Board

Tiktok

[havemercyonus]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞: 𝐌𝐬. 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧

Trigger Warnings for descriptions of domestic violence, kidnapping, mentions of forced drug use and physical abuse.. This is a horror story, reader discretion advised.

….

Pastor Declan Kilgore’s eldest is on the back of a milk carton.

She’s been gone since Jimmy Blackwood was released from prison. Months, before he’d been dragged away from their homecoming dance in handcuffs, his gun got snatched up. His daddy was the sheriff, so it was known he’d be out within a week. No one believed he was gonna get her again, when he got out.

The slaughterhouse took him back, as did the rest of her community—but not Amma. The incident wasn’t just an incident, and his gun hadn’t been planted on him, despite what his daddy said in a spitting rage when she had to be questioned under blinding lights. Amma’s father didn’t love her hard enough to argue otherwise. She didn’t love him enough to expect better.

Father Declan believed in sharing the good word about the mercy sinners have yet to receive, but he did not believe his defiant daughter was one of them.

He blamed himself for not whooping her hard enough as a young ’un. As a child, she had giggled in the middle of sermons and would have to be sent away from the tent he preached under. By the age of thirteen. She got better at talking back and sneaking out to her best friend’s apartment. Whose elder sister worked at a nightclub and was courting a delinquent too. Amma was a apostate who joined the company of her fellow apostates. Father Declan had failed her.

He was a kind, faithful man and had not shown her the kindness of holding one’s tongue.

When she heard about Jimmy’s release, she didn’t cry or shed a tear—not even when her father offered to rehabilitate him himself. When Jimmy showed up at her apartment asking her parents if she was home, he was dressed in a suit.

Father Declan and Ma didn’t like the boy, but here he was, begging for forgiveness like a man reborn. The idea he could cause harm now was oblivious to them. They were blinded by their own disbelief and disdain.

Ma opened her bedroom door to see two beds—her younger daughter asleep in one, and the other empty. The window was open, exposing the fire escape.

Amma had seen her way out and taken it. She wasn’t an idiot to know he’d go back to hitting her , whether they were dating or not . Amma would have to shoot him if he tried to raise his hand at her again. No wuss way about it. She would’ve had to, if she stayed.

Upon finding her empty bed . Amma was swiftly reported missing. It was a funny thought to her peers believe she’d been kidnapped by a handsome masked gentleman who’d take her to Hollywood to get cracked out in a limosuine or get hitched and famous like Dolly fricking Parton. But, no on April 24th, 1991. Amma went missing on her own accord.

A missing child of eighteen made mothers hold on to their daughter’s necks a bit tighter. These belles were frightened their children would show up on billboards, immortalized in pictures as angels taken too soon. No one cared about her though. It was better her than another girl that didn't cuss her head off so much.

Now, if you walk down the dairy aisle at the Whole Foods in her town, her face is plastered on the backs of a few cartons. Her old classmates down them like lemon shots, complaining of the sour taste left behind. The cartons, were yellowed underneath with age by summertime . Drink them and you’d be having a piece of her too.

You can feel Amma , when you bite the tip of your thumb and see it’s blooming red. You can feel her when you skin your knee falling off your bike, in the tightening of the space between your eyes and the air above where you sit. Feel your diaphragm contract and know she’s there.

She’s a fever you cannot cure with ales. She’s the inescapable doom, prepared to damn this earth and everyone in it too. She has always been a devourer, of evil and good alike.

Now, as you’re reading this, you need to pray for her—and for yourself. Pray these words, with all the strength you can muster.

“Lord, have mercy on me.. Have mercy on us all.“

Because you cannot escape it

Do not be afraid if you feel it deeply in your bones.

The spirit is carnivorous and it takes.