The Blue Rose

14. Aster

FOURTEEN

ASTER

W ell, there goes my plans again, this time ruined by an injury. Not caused by me. I punch the middle of my steering wheel, making the horn go off, hoping no one, especially my little lamb, heard it.

I so badly want to get my hands on my little lamb. I need to see her on my table. I need her screaming my name. I need her.

She would look so perfect, spread across my slaughter table. My most prized lamb. My most perfect doll.

Just imagining it makes my cock twitch.

She would look so perfect bent over-

No, what am I thinking? My breathing becomes accelerated thinking about her on my table begging for her life, not bent over.

Well… I push my head back into my seat, willing my cock to behave. Maybe bent over before I stab her heart .

Her blood would look so pretty all over my hands. Splattered against my skin. Staining the walls of my slaughterhouse.

My cock presses painfully against my jeans, the bite of pain pulling a visceral groan of pleasure from me. Glancing around I can't help myself. I use one hand to unbutton my pants, sliding them down a little. I keep my other hand firm on the steering wheel, so it doesn’t swerve. I move my cock through the hole of my boxers, stifling a groan as it springs free.

Spitting in my hand to add some lubrication, I start to rub up and down, eliciting precum. I swipe my thumb over the tip, rubbing the precum around the top, then start to rub it up and down my shaft.

Thinking about the promise I made to Serena, what I will be doing to her once I finally make her mine, spurs me to rub harder and faster. My grip tightening with the thought of her black hair draped over the edge of the table, looking at me with those big blue eyes, begging for more.

My little lamb covered in blood, underneath me, at my mercy. I reach my breaking point. Tipping my head back, my eyes shuttered closed, and I explode all over my hand, a guttural roar escaping my throat at the same time.

I hear a horn blaring down on me, seeing an oncoming big rig hurtling towards me. For a moment, I embrace my imminent end, welcoming the pain sure to follow. My phone vibrates on my dash, my little lamb's name flashing across the screen. I swerve out of the truck's way just in time before I’m crushed. It’s not my time yet. I still need my little lamb.

My breaths come fast and labored as I take a napkin from my glove box and wipe up my hand, glancing in the rearview mirror as the rig speeds down the road, and drive the rest of the way home.

The game of cat and mouse with death is a fun one, causing my adrenaline to spike even more, but when I saw my little lambs face, I needed to get out of the trap I created for myself. I need to see her again. Soon.

I never get off to my lambs blood, I always thought it to be sickening, especially when I saw my mother and father getting one another off in their victims blood. I didn’t understand at the time what I was witnessing, but a little voice in my head told me to run when my dad tore my moms shirt off and she made a noise I never heard before. Only when I was older and understood what sex truly was, is when I vowed to never get off like that with my victims. Another reason why rule two was put in place.

My little lamb can turn that traumatizing memory into a good one with her spilled blood. Covered in blood, whether it be hers, or ours, what a beautiful sight that would be.

Time to plan our next date, and spill one of my secrets.

I pull up to Serena’s house, and she’s already standing outside looking absolutely stunning. Wearing a black crop top that has a skull head with red roses around it and a deep vee she cut into the shirt to show off her perfect breasts. A red and black checkered skirt flutters around her hips with every step she takes. Her legs are covered by fishnets, and her shoes of choice are black combat boots. Is she trying to match ?

She has her bangs half up, the rest of her hair wavy and falling past her shoulders. I want to wrap it around my fist and bend her to my will.

Her lips are painted red. Probably to match her outfit, which she looks sinfully delicious in.

The same red I would’ve chosen for her.

She runs over and gets in the car, kissing me on the lips, before sitting back in her seat. “Where are we going?” she asks excitedly.

I smirk, staring at the road. “It’s a surprise,” I say, glancing over at her before speeding out of her driveway, my blood thrumming in my veins.

The sun has already set in the sky, creating the perfect atmosphere for what I have planned for our date.

Tonight is the night. If all goes according to plan, this will be our last date, and I will finally get her on my table. Finally.

Looking over at her, I can feel the excitement rolling across her skin. She wouldn’t be so excited if she knew how the night was going to end.

She reaches towards the radio, messing with dials as she flips through the stations. Her body freezes when she hears a song she likes come on. She mimics the drum intro, and bangs her head along with the beat, pretending she is part of the band, mouthing the intro. Paying attention to the road while she’s being so cute is hard. I listen to the lyrics, realizing it is “Waking the Demon” by Bullet For My Valentine as soon as they say the title.

I didn’t know she was into this type of music. Smirking, I turn the song all the way up. She starts to sing her heart out, never missing a lyric.

I wonder if she knows she has woken this demon?

The station plays several more songs she sings along to, dancing in her seat as she loses herself to the music. The way she just lets go, and is completely herself, has me tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the songs I know. I hope she’s only like this with me.

Her whole face lights up as we pull into the abandoned parking lot, and she screams excitedly, “OH. MY. GOD! You are taking me to Graves Haunted Houses?!” She bounces in her seat, straining against the seatbelt. “Do you know how hard it is to get tickets? Me and Jess have been trying for years . Wait… they're not even open yet, don’t they open next week?” She turns to me, her eyes bouncing between mine.

I get out of the car, and walk to her side, opening the door and grabbing her hand, suddenly craving the connection. “The owner and I are very close.”

She gapes at me, leaning into me, my cock twitching at the sight. “You know the owner of Graves? The owner is one of the best kept mysteries of Salem. The only thing anyone knows is that the owner is a guy. No one, except a select few of his employees, know who he is.” She steps closer and whispers. “I heard he makes his employees sign NDAs and those who break the rules become a part of one of the haunted houses…” Serena glances around, as if making sure no one was listening in. “Permanently.”

This makes me belly laugh. “That is my favorite rumor.”

She slaps me playfully. “I’m being serious, Aster. I’m desperate to know who owns Graves. Jess thinks I’m obsessed. She’s okay with this obsession because it’s not over The Morbid Monet.”

If only she knew we are one and the same.

She looks around as we are walking up, nearly stumbling over the loose gravel, lost in amazement. “I wonder how he came up with the thirteen houses of horror. Each one is inspired by either an iconic horror movie or serial killers. He changes the movie houses every year so it doesn’t get old. Since you know him, you have to know the reason why. What’s the story behind the houses?”

When I first came up with the idea to use my inheritance towards opening Graves it took me sometime to come up with what I would do. There are so many haunted houses already, and I can’t kill all the time, so I needed a distraction. I visited so many haunted houses, most of them were the same, and the owners of those had to use the same props every year, making it repetitive and boring. I wanted my attractions to be the opposite, and with the amount of money I had, I came up with the idea to change the houses every year. Bringing back the same people, new customers, far and wide. All the haunted house goers coming and going brought in more than enough money to keep changing it every year.

I have permanent staff, the ones who know the owner, who not only start building the new attractions after the season ends at the end of November, but who also love to be a part of the attraction. Dressing up and scaring everyone. It makes the transition period easier having the same staff, and that is their career, which they love and are grateful for.

I turn to her, getting in her face, backing her against a tree lining the path to the entrance, and whisper. “If I told you, then you might end up here.” I lean in close, my breath brushing against her neck and leaving goosebumps behind. “Permanently.”

She slaps me on the arm. “That’s not funny Aster, but could you imagine working here? Oh, the fun I’d have tormenting everyone.” Her eyes spark, something much darker lurking behind her excitement.

That’s surprising. Her choice of words intrigues me, and I can't help but imagine what it would be like tormenting her in these houses.

Maybe I will.

When we get up to the entrance an employee is waiting to let us in. “Mr. Graves, we’ve been expecting you, we made tonight extra memorable as requested.”

From the corner of my eye I see Serena gasp, pure shock on her face. “Thank you, Sam.”

We walk past my employee, and Serena shrieks, “You’re the owner of Graves?!” She shakes her head in disbelief. “Wait, so your name is Aster Graves? That actually fits really well.”

I look at her, a small smile playing on my lips, heart racing. “Oh really? And why is that so fitting, little lamb?”

Serena lets go of my hands, skipping ahead with her hands behind her back. She glances over her shoulder and repeats the words I once said to her, “I promise I will tell you everything, all in due time.”

She runs away laughing, but I’m faster, much faster then she is, and I catch her. Swooping her into my arms, she fights to get away, her body brushing against mine, fire flowing in its wake. “You will find out how fitting my name is to me, little lamb. Then you’re going to wish you didn’t.”

She looks up at me, head tilted and shivers. I kiss her, my lips greedy against hers, and take her to the first house “The Dancing Clowns”.

“I love clowns!” She looks at the entrance with fascination.

The entrance is an archway of everyone’s favorite horror movie clown, with white faces, and red lines going through their eyes, wrapped around the mouths, stretched and their hands connecting at the sign that says “The Dancing Clowns”.

One face he’s smiling, wearing the mask he puts on to capture his victims.

The same mask I wear to capture mine.

The second is his true face, the one his victims see right before he devours them. His mask comes off, just as mine does, when our victims' lives are about to end. It’s the only moment we can be our true selves.

I come up with the ideas for every house, give money to make my vision come to life every year, but it’s the actors I hire that bring it all to life. They are the reason my haunted houses are the best. The reason people from all over the states come to experience it every year.

I see Serena running ahead of me, too excited to wait.

Watching her go, I slowly stalk after her, watching her chest rise and fall, her eyes wide as she takes everything in. The way her body is reacting to everything, how she touches the props that look a little too real with admiration, is making my cock strain against my jeans.

Most people are excited, with fear on the forefront when they enter the houses. Serena isn’t showing an ounce of fear, she looks like a kid on christmas waiting to see all their presents. I wonder if her fear will surface later?

She goes up to the towering Pennywise standing in the corner of the first room and stares up at it. “It looks so real.” she breathes. She rocks up onto her toes, reaching out to touch it, when the clown jumps at her, coming alive making her scream. Eliciting the fear I can’t wait to make her experience again later. My chest heaves, my urges almost too desperate to control.

She closes her eyes, and runs right into my arms, which makes her scream again. She doesn’t realize it’s me at first. She tries to run away, but my hand wrapped around her wrist has her opening them and relaxing as soon as she sees it’s me.

She grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together, and we walk through the rest of the houses together. Out one house into the next, each one scarier than the last, with more actors hiding and waiting to scare us. I don’t even know where they’re coming from, or how many there will be. Sam is the one who hires everyone who doesn’t know my identity. All the actors have been told I’m an important customer, who knows the owner, and to put on a great act. I must admit, some of the makeup jobs and costumes are even making my adrenaline spike. Watching her look around, waiting for the next person to come after and scare her, makes my heart race in a way I’ve never experienced. The beating of my heart isn’t from the fear that is creeping its way up, it is something else, a pang of joy from hers.

When we reach the end of the houses, she runs out, completely breathless, resting her hands on her knees trying to catch her breath.

Walking up beside her, I grab her hand, and start to lead us back to the beginning, heading to her favorite house, the clown smiling at us as we get closer.

“Are we doing it again?” she asks, looking around. “Wait, where is everyone?” She stops walking, and plants her feet into the ground, hesitant to continue.

“I told them to leave after we left each house.”

“Why?” She asks, rubbing her thighs together.

Pulling her towards me, I whisper in her ear. “Because the things I plan to do to you tonight require no witnesses.”

She shivers, her eyes going dark in anticipation, making my breath catch in my chest. The look she’s giving me makes me reach down and adjust my growing erection.