Tangled in a Web of Lies (7 page)

I miss you, and I am hoping to make it back out there before Christmas! Until next time,

                         Lila

It’s been a long time since I have been this honest with him. I tried to keep a generous amount of distance between us when I was with Jaime, and even more so with Odin. But now, there is nothing stopping me. There are hundreds of reasons why I never let Billy go completely, even when I said I was going to. But in the end it boils down to love, not mine but his. It was all the love I knew for so long, I thought I couldn’t live without it.

When Billy said he loved me, it was different. It was filled with a deep and silent truth, a truth that meant he’d do anything for me. His love was the greatest and strongest love I’d ever known, even more devoted than my mother’s love. I’d been with lots of boys, some before but mostly after Billy. I heard the words ‘I love you’ countless times, but they didn’t make me feel anything. It was as if they weren’t even real.

I lie awake in bed, thinking about all the happy memories I have with Billy, the time he dumped another boy for me, when he got his first car and brought it to school. I can remember sneaking out and going for midnight rides to Taco Bell. For the first time in weeks, I fall asleep with a faint smile.

Devil’s Cut

Flashbacks, it’s been over a year since he’s had a vivid one. Lately he hasn’t had the mental strength to will them away. He’s been drinking, way more than he should, trying to numb himself from the pain he feels being alone again. He hates it when he drinks so much that he can’t think clearly. It reminds him of his old man. But now, he welcomes the blur. It hurts less than the all too clear reality that Lila is no longer his. He misses everything about her. In an attempt to push her out of his head, he swallows down a few more shots of Whiskey straight from the bottle.

He sinks into the couch, staring up at the open beam ceiling of his living room. His mind begins haunting him, playing clips of memories from his elementary years.

Odin’s father came home drunk from the bar almost every night. It was a wonder he even made it home. Odin used to pray that one day he wouldn’t. When the old man would finally stumble through the door, he was always looking for a fight. He’d start in on Odin’s mom, screaming at her. When she would call him a raging drunk, or tell him he was being irrational he’d hit her. He’d throw her around the whole house in a drunken rage. She’d threaten to leave, but he’d never let her go.

One night she finally tried. Odin was 12 years old, and while he’d pushed the memory so far into the back of his mind he’d forgotten, tonight it all comes swarming back to him.

His father comes home early, not as drunk as usual, and finds his mother loading bags into the station wagon. As soon as she sees him coming, she’s struck with fear. She tells Odin to hide in his room.

He goes into the house, but instead of going to his room, he goes into his parent’s room, and sits on the edge of their bed where he can easily see them without being seen himself. They start arguing. She flings her hands in the air, and he catches them, throwing her down so hard, her body leaves a cloud of dust when she hits the dirt. She gets up, as she always did the first time. It must have been her pride that wouldn’t let her just lie there beneath him.

“If you want to kill me, then just fucking kill me!” she screams at him. She finally hit her breaking point. It was a wonder it hadn’t happened years ago. Odin never could understand what possessed his mother to stay here in this house. Through his innocent eyes he watches as his father throws a blow, and his mom flies into the back of the station wagon. Her face hits the bumper before she falls to the ground again, blood pooling from her face.

“You’re not going anywhere!” He kicks her in the side, and Odin can hear the air leave her lungs, even from inside the house. His father grabs his mother by her hair, and pulls her onto her back. “I own you, Bitch!” He takes his leather belt and pulls it through the loops on his pants. Folding it in half, he kneels on top of her and begins violently unleashing his anger, whipping her senseless while she screams helplessly. Something about the way the leather hits her skin stirs something dark inside of Odin, despite his fear.

She tries to put her hands up in defense, but he uses his free hand to swat them away. With each lashing sound, Odin feels a sickening spark of terror and excitement inside him. This is how he knows he is bad. Deep down, he would love to have his father on the ground, whipping him senseless. He wouldn’t stop.

Neither does his father. Drops of her blood spray in small showers as the belt bites into her skin. Then the old man takes hold of her neck, gripping her so tightly that she struggles for air. Finally she lays quiet.

His father stands and turns towards the house, and Odin quickly bolts to his own room. He sits on the bed, praying his father won’t come in. But his door opens slowly.

“Your mom has decided to leave us both. I’m taking her to the train station,” he says, not bothering to wipe her blood off his knuckles before the lie falls from his lips.

Odin stares fearfully into his father’s eyes feeling the demon inside him growing as it stares in the face of the Devil himself. His father turns to leave, shutting the door behind him. Odin closes his eyes and listens as the station wagon leaves down the driveway.

Odin never again felt comfort. Once his mother was gone, and could no longer protect him. He lived a life of pain. His father would rage on him, fueling him with anger and hate. One day, Odin was so angry that he caught a rabbit, and slowly mutilated it, doing all the things he wanted to do to his father. Just when he was about finished, and ready to strangle it to death, his father caught him in the shed. He took one look at the bunny and smiled.

“Maybe you are my son after all. Did you enjoy that?” Odin was 14 then. He can still remember the distinctly horrifying smile on his father’s face. Odin threw the rabbit at the wall so hard, that when it hit the ground it was dead. Then he stormed back into the house, away from his father. Odin felt genuinely bad about what he’d done to the rabbit in a fit of anger. After the high of killing was over, and the rush had gone away, all he could feel was guilt. But still, something about it sparked a desire inside of him that he couldn’t explain.

After that his father invited him on an evening run. As it turned out, he wasn’t always getting drunk at the bar. The old man took him to an abandoned slaughterhouse on the edge of town, and made sure Odin knew that if he ever spoke of this place to anyone, he’d put him in the grave.

The entire drive, Odin feared his father was going to kill him once they got there. But what happened instead, was even more horrifying. His father pulled the doors open, and the stench of rotting flesh came like a pungent cloud that filled Odin’s senses. His father led the way to a pile of wooden crates. Odin’s eyes went wide with fear when he heard the whimpers coming from inside the crate his father used his knife to pry open.

His biggest fear came to life, when from the crate, his old man pulled out a naked girl, bound in barbed wire with cut marks all over her body. The old man dragged her across the straw floor of the barn, and hung her by the chains that dangled from the ceiling.

“What you think, boy?” his father asked, not looking him in the eye as he went to pull a few bottles of liquor from a cupboard in the corner.

Odin swallowed, trying to keep his cool as he starred down the poor naked girl, trembling as she cried with her face turned into her arm. She was the first naked girl Odin had ever seen. While he was filled with fear, he felt himself get hard.

The old man pounded back a fifth of whiskey and passed the bottle to Odin. “You want first hit, or should I show you how it’s done?”

Odin bravely took the bottle from the old man’s hand, and tipped it back to his lips, letting the harsh liquor pool down his throat to calm his nerves.

The entire memory comes back to him, playing out in his head like an old movie. Even after all these years, he can still remember every detail, from the way the barn smelt, to the look of sheer terror on the girl’s face.

“You can go first,” he tells the old man. Odin nurses the bottle of whiskey, fearfully watching as his father pulls a thick leather strap down from the wall and walks toward the girl.

“No, please,” she begs the old man but it’s no use. He puts his hand over her mouth, and yields the strap down on her bare ass.

Odin almost chokes on the whiskey when he sees her body jump. Muffled cries escape her. His father looks to him for some sort of reaction, but Odin shows no emotions. He knows very well if he doesn’t go along with this, he’ll be the next one getting beat with the strap, and left in a wooden crate to die.

The old man strikes her again, and this time she wails behind his hand. Odin’s eyes focus on her succulent breasts. Her nipples are hard, left naked in the cool air of the barn. They bounce lusciously when the strap whips her behind. It’s devilishly enticing, even though he knows it’s wrong in every sense. If he could leave and never come back he would, but his father isn’t going to let that happen.

“This is what it means to be a man son,” his father says, taking his hand off her mouth he steps behind her, and puts the leather strap around her neck. She begs for him to stop what he’s doing, but it’s as if he doesn’t even hear her. His father unzips his pants, though Odin’s view is blocked by the weeping girl, so afraid her entire body is violently trembling.

“Next it’s your turn.” The old man looks at Odin, his face between the girls arm and head. He takes her by her hips and forces himself into her. She cries but no one is around to hear her. Odin looks away, feeling sick to his stomach at the sight of his father raping this poor girl from behind. His ears are filled with her screams, and her desperate pleads for mercy. He can hear the chains rattle as she’s fucked hard in the ass.

After a few minutes his father is finished, and he zips his pants back up. He gestures for Odin to follow him to the tool shed, conveniently moved inside the barn. There are all kinds of nasty, blood rusted tools inside. Amongst them are some items that clearly don’t belong, surgical tools, pill bottles, metal cuffs and gags, one of which his father picks up.

“See anything you like?” His father’s words cause his blood to boil. This is despicable. “Come on, you mutilated that rabbit pretty good, don’t be afraid to try the real thing,” he coaxes.

Odin picks up a branding iron, the symbol on the end a mere ‘X’.

“Why don’t ya go get acquainted, I’ll start the fire.” The old man is sick and hateful, and he feeds on the weak and the desperate. Odin knows he doesn’t want to be like him, but tonight he has no options then to mirror his father’s image.

The old man takes the iron to the other end of the barn, where there is a small metal burn pit. Odin slowly makes his way toward the girl. She’s calmed a little, but her face is still stained with tears. She reeks of piss, body odor, and fear.

“What’s your name?” Odin asks quietly, so his father cannot hear them.

“Laura,” her voice is barely audible and her two eyes are round as quarters. “Please don’t hurt me. I don’t want to die,” she cries.

“Close your eyes Laura, this will all be over soon,” Odin whispers to her, feeling the dread of what is to come for her.

Laura closes her eyes, and Odin takes a step back, looking up and down her bruised and lacerated flesh. Her black hair is a mess of straw and knots, matted down her back. She stands with her toes on the ground, held up by her wrists in chains. Odin reaches his hand out to caress her body, the first time he’s ever felt a women’s flesh. She’s cold, and she flinches beneath the tips of his fingers. He traces her side, finally coming up to cup her breast.

“That’s it boy, she’s yours, to do as you see fit. Make me proud, take her like a man and make her scream,” the old man encourages him.

Odin leans forward, taking her breast into his mouth. She whimpers, as his tongue swirls over her taut nipple. His hands move down her sides, until he reaches the moist hair between her legs and cups her there. She tries to be still, crying silently into her arm with her eyes pressed closed.

This is wrong, Odin knows this is wrong. But as Laura trembles in his hands, he feels himself getting hard in his pants. He sucks on her tit, plunging his fingers inside her. He never imagined his first time with a girl would be anything like this. He thought he’d never be able to look at another girl without feeling the guilt and utter disgust for what he’s about to do.

He pushes his fingers inside her, swirling them around until they are soaked with her moisture. Then the urge to replace his fingers with his thickening erection creeps into his mind. He tenses, biting down on her nipple as he tries to push his impulses away.

“Go ahead, get your dick wet! If you’re too pussy, maybe I should hang you up there instead and rape you fucking senseless!” His father threatens, keeping his distance at the side of the barn, allowing Odin some space.

“Please don’t let him hurt me anymore,” Laura whispers, her eyes opening to fearfully stare down at Odin.

He places his lips on her neck, carefully so his father can’t see he whispers, “I’m sorry. I don’t have much more choice here than you do. But I will be gentle, I promise.”

Laura cries, but doesn’t fight him as he pushes his pants down and lifts her legs to encompass him. His heart races, as he anticipates entering a woman for the very first time. If only she wanted this as much as he does. He can’t deny that he wants to fuck her, even now his dick is solid and throbbing.