Chapter 14 Ethan
Creak. Creak. Creak.
The legs of the table shake and scrape against the floor as I sink myself further into Alina’s cold cunt. I never planned on fucking her like this, I only came down to the basement to add more body parts to my collection to piece my sister back together again but I couldn’t stop myself.
There was no way I could deny myself of this.
I couldn’t deny Alina of this either. I needed to know what she felt like.
How cold she would be around my cock and now I know, and it’s fucking perfect.
It’s nothing like I’ve ever felt before and I fear I’ll never be able to stop now.
I’m too far gone. I’ve tasted that forbidden fruit and I’ll never be able to give that up.
She’s like a rare jewel, one that I’ll keep in my grasp forever.
Grabbing Alina’s thigh, I wrap it around my waist and keep a hold of her ankle to stop it falling. I’d wrap her other leg around me but, she hasn’t got one. The last time I came to visit her, I got too rough. Too excited and the limb fell off of her with ease.
I’m going to have to make a move on rebuilding her before there’s nothing left, but in the meantime, I’m fulfilling my sick fantasies.
Sweat gathers on my brow and my hair falls over my eyes as I drop my chin to my chest and thrust hard inside my sister.
I look down with hooded eyes at my cock disappearing into Alina’s soft and squishy pussy, her hairy lips splay open as I pull my cock out to the tip, then they fold in on themselves as I sink back inside.
The sight sends me into a euphoric frenzy.
Sparks bloom across my eyes like fireworks as I fuck her into oblivion.
Her tits wobble with every thrust and I release her boney hip from my hand and grab one of the fleshy mounds, squeezing it tightly.
I can hear in my head her high pitched moans.
It’s like music to my ears, an erotic symphony just playing for me.
Blood pools underneath Alina’s thin skin around her blue-ish nipple and I tug at the hard peak, squeezing it between my finger and thumb.
“Come for me, pretty dead girl.” I moan out through a heavy breath, then I give her tit a swift slap. The flesh bag recoils against the harsh act and the lust that fills my bloodstream, quickly turns to frustration when Alina doesn’t come.
She doesn’t do anything.
She just lies there, dead as a fucking door nail whilst I fuck her.
I grunt again. “Why, why aren’t you fucking saying anything?!”
I’m met with silence, only the sopping wet sounds from her defrosting pussy can be heard. Silence that I just can’t fucking deal with.
Why isn’t she saying anything? Why.. what is happening to me?
Am I finally going insane? Is this the end for me? I can’t seem to think straight, my mind scrambled and grappling for some kind of sanity that I just can’t seem to find.
Maybe I need to fix her, to put her back together and then she’ll be okay. She’ll talk to me then, she’ll love me back, I know she will. That’s what I need to do.
I can fix her.
I can fix her.
I can fix her.
Chanting the mantra in my head with every forceful thrust, I blow my load inside her peeling pussy.
Shudders wrack through my body and I grip Alina’s breast in a bruising hold.
My nails pierce into the thin, frail skin, and blood instantly wells around the puncture wounds but I don’t stop, I can’t. I fear I’m not myself anymore.
I’m.. fearful of myself.
With force, I dig my fingers into her flesh until the tips disappear into her fatty tissue, all the while my cock is still pulsing inside of her. Coating her decaying walls in thick, creamy cum. Dark blood like rich wine, pools underneath my hand as I dig even deeper inside of her breast.
My little sister is falling apart before my eyes.
Her skin has already started to slip away from her bones like a jacket that’s far too big.
Patches of flesh are beginning to melt around her beautiful face, and her once stormy eyes are now dried up like prunes.
There’s no longer stormy seas inside her irises, instead they’re dull and void of life.
A life that I made her end, a life that I took away from her.
Being in cold storage is no longer keeping her preserved. I need to swap out her limbs for fresh ones, give her a new set of eyes and maybe, just maybe, the embalming fluids we have here will plump her back up again.
It has to work. Something has to give because I’m not sure how long I can keep her like this.
With a solid plan in my mind, I slip my cock out of her now drying cunt and tuck myself back into my trousers, then I shove her further up the table and back into the box where I’ve been storing her.
A pretty dead doll in her toy box.
I leave the lid off and get to work on collecting the body parts, moving completely on autopilot, like I have no control over my being.
I’ve managed to sever a pair of arms and legs, both from different women who have found themselves in the mortuary.
One of the mothers of one of the women, requested an embalming for her daughter but I told her that the car accident that she was in was too severe, that her body was too broken for me to fix.
It broke her heart even more but she agreed to a cremation instead, leaving me with the perfect opportunity to chop off her half decent arm and keep it for myself.
All the while, the rest of her was burning until all that was left was sizzling ash in a plastic tub.
Mr Wilson has been none the wiser to my late night antics.
In fact, he’s blissfully unaware, I think, of the missing body parts but I fear it won’t be long before he finds out.
He’s a clever man and he’s known me all my life.
I know he’ll catch me one day but I can only hope that he stays on my side.
He’d want what’s best for me, and Alina is what’s best for me. He has to know that.
He has to. There’s no other option for me. Alina is my endgame. She’s all I have left.
Slipping a fresh pair of gloves on, I wheel over a small table from the corner of the cold storage room and place it next to the table that Alina is laying on.
On top of the table sits various autopsy instruments, tools that I’ve used on hundreds of corpses, deadly weapons that have sliced and diced people and now, these weapons will pick apart my sister and then stitch her back together.
Shuffling around the table, the plastic sheeting that I laid on the floor crinkles under my boots with every step as I make my way over to the boxes of limbs.
Two legs, toes pointing to the ceiling poke out of the box, they’re wrapped in plastic to keep them clean and I use the scalpel on the table to slice through the bag.
A musty, wet dog smell breaks through the slice in the bag and I scrunch my nose up in disgust. Hopefully if I air them out long enough, the smell will subside.
I grab the leg by the ankle and pull it free from the bag, then I place it on the table next to Alina and repeat the same process for the other leg, then the two arms. Each limb varies in colour and size, one of the legs is a rich olive colour.
It’s probably seen the sun countless times, ran along beaches and tripped over a couple of times too.
Each limb, no doubt, holds a lot of memories but I don’t care to ponder on it. They’re going to serve me a purpose and that’s all.
Once I have the arms and legs placed where I want them, I get to work on removing Alina’s.
She’s already lost one leg which I threw in with a corpse that was due for cremation, so I make a start on removing her other leg.
It’s already falling away from her decaying body, but just to help it out, I use the scalpel to cut away the thin pieces of flesh like deli meat and nick the spaghetti-like tendons.
They snap like taut elastic, and once I have the skin separated, I place the scalpel down onto the small table beside me and grab the bone saw.
With brute force, I shove the blade into the ball joint and begin sawing away at the bone.
Serrated teeth as sharp as a dog's canines bite through the marrow, slipping easily through the white sinew. Beads of sweat gather across my brow and I can feel droplets trailing down my back but I don’t give in. I refuse to quit.
Alina will be perfect once I’m done.
She’ll be perfect.
After a couple of minutes, I finally manage to detach Alina’s leg, leaving her limbless from the waist down then I move onto her arms. Those were a lot easier to cut off, her bones were a lot frailer and softer to bite through with the bone saw.
I place the saw onto the table and step back for a moment to catch my breath and catalog all the blood that’s gathered on the plastic sheet.
“I need to cauterise the wounds.” I mumble to myself and grab the small blowtorch I brought down with me earlier. Pressing down on the trigger, a blue flame bursts out, heating the side of my face.
Keeping a hold of the trigger, I bring the flame to the open wound, starting with the legs. Like melted fat, the scorching heat eats away at the flesh, causing it to bubble and char, and the smell of cooked meat tingles its way up into my nose.
Immediately my stomach grumbles at the familiar scent but I shove it back down. Now is not the time to give into that temptation. This is already fucking weird and no matter how good Alina’s meat smells, I have a job to do.