A Victim's POV

Content Disclaimer: This story has violent rape scenes, violent murder scene and many other twisted things. Also drug use.

Character Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from the films House of 1000 Corpses or The Devil's Reject; they belong to Mr. Zombie.


A Victim's POV - Chapter 4

Our red 1970 Rambler was parked on the side of a dusty highway. The afternoon sun was hot and there wasn’t even a breeze to help cool things down. I was sluggishly leaning on the hood of the car, while my cousin was working on a blown tire. We were late for my brother’s graduation. My mother would probably kill us.

“How much longer?” I asked.

“Well,” Clint stood up still looking at the tire he had just taken off the car. “I striped one of the bolts but it should still hold. It’ll only take five minutes for me to put the spare on.”

I kicked the blown tire, “What did we hit?”

“Doesn’t look like anything, just an old tire that gave out.” Clint said pulling out a joint and lighting it.

He took a drag and handed it to me. We passed the joint back and worth as he began the task of pulling the spare on. Clint was having problems getting the bolts to screw back on; he blamed the tire jack but he was high. I got tickled watching him.

It was taking him a little longer than plan when a old beat up, cream colored Ford pick-up pulled in behind us. There were two men in the truck but only one got out. He was talk and big but not fat-big more of a strong-big. His hair was dark brown, about shoulder length and wavy. The beard he had was the same color.

“What’s the problem?” He said in a deep voice.

Clint waved to him and stood up. “Nothing man. We just had a flat…just got the spare put on.”

The man continued to walk up to the car. He looked down at the newly replaced tire.

I was still holding the joint, to stoned to have realized that maybe I ought to have put it away but the man didn’t seem to mind. I looked over at the guy still sitting in the truck and waved. He didn’t wave back. I couldn’t make him out to good but I could tell he had on a cowboy hat and that his hair long, maybe blonde.

The big guy was still standing by Clint checking out the tire. He helped pull the jack from under the car.

“You think it’s going to hold?” Clint asked the man.

He nodded at the same time looking to the man in the truck. Then the guy got out. He started walking toward us when I realized what he was carrying in his hand.

“Shit!” I screamed seeing the gun.

Clint looked confused, clearly not seeing the gun.

“CLINT!” I screamed again as the man raised the gun and fired.

Clint hit the ground. Blood was flowing from his left shoulder.

“Get her.” The man with the gun told the big guy.

He grabbed my arm pulling me close to him, I was still yelling Clint’s name.

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” He said point the gun at me. “Innie…”

“Minnie,” he pointed the gun back to Clint.

“Miny,” then to me again.

“MO!” He shot Clint in the head.

I went to run to Clint but the big guy holding my arm jerked me back so hard that I fell back into the car hitting my head. The fall didn’t knock me out but put me into a daze. I just sat there, against the car staring at my dead cousin. Everything was kind of in slow motion. The white headed man holding the gun was saying something but I wasn’t making it out.

Within a few seconds everything came back into play. He was telling me to get up but I didn’t move.

“I said, get the fuck up!” Grabbing at my arm pulling me to my feet. “Don’t fuckin’ move.”

He handed the gun to the big guy and then opened the door of the car. He went through it taking whatever caught his eye including the bag of weed we had hidden in the glove box. He took my purse and dumped it out, taking money, a ring and a pack of rolling papers. When he was done he turned and took the gun back.

“Get yourself over here.” He said pointing the gun at me.

I did as he said.

“Come on,“ he pushed me on the back toward the truck.

We walked to the truck and he opened the passenger door for me, motioning for me to get in. I did and he slammed the door shut. As he walked around to the drivers’ side he was saying some to the big guy who had started putting my dead cousin’s body into the car. Then he stuck the gun into the back of his pants, got into the truck, started it up and pulled off.

I was quiet and somewhat shaking from being so nervous. I glanced into the side mirror and saw big guy getting into the car. He was taking the car and the body off. I felt like throwing up but I didn’t. Instead I just stared out the windshield.

After a few minutes the man pulled something out of his pocket and threw it over to me. It was the bag of weed he taken out of my car. Seconds later he threw the rolling papers at me too.

“Well…” he said looking at me. “Fuckin’ roll one.”

I looked at the man for a second; god only knows the expression that was on my face. I took the weed and did as he said. When I was done I handed the joint to the man. He smoked about half of it and then handed it to me. He was clearly high.

I wasn’t sure what to do.

After a second or so he looked at me, “Smoke the damn thing! It ain’t any fuckin’ fun getting stoned by yourself.”

I was somewhere between sober and stoned when we pulled into the parking lot of a liquor store.

When the truck stopped the pale face man looked at me.

“Look in the glove box and get out that duck tape,” he motioned.

I did and handed it to him.

He bent down and started to tape my feet and legs together. I looked around but no one was in the parking lot and even if there had been I’m not sure I would have screamed for fear of my life. Then he taped my hands together.

“Now,” the man growled. “Don’t you go and fucking move. You got me?”

He waited for me to nod yes.

“Good. You going to keep that trap of yours shut as well or am I going to have to….”

He held up a piece of tape.

“I…I’ll be quite.” I said softly.

He got out of the truck and went into the store.

I sat there. I didn’t move. I didn’t do anything until he came out again. I watched him as he walked back to the truck. He walked with a stride; there was something sexy about it. He was tall, had a slender and toned body. Quite an attractive man all except his pale skin. Even his white hair had a likable quality to it.

I was starring and didn’t even notice until he winked at me as he walked pass the front of the truck. I was embarrassed but I didn’t take my eyes off of him. He opened the door and flung two bottles of liquor into the truck. As he got into the truck he produced a large hunting knife from what seemed like nowhere. Wide eyed I watched as he bent over and cut loose my hands and feet. He then opened one of the bottles and took a huge gulp.

Passing me the bottle I could see that it was tequila. I could smell it even before I put the bottle to my lips and took a drink. The first sallow was like drinking gas but after the third it was like water. We passed the bottle back and worth like we had done the joint, still not saying anything.

As we continued to travel we passed by a gas station and a few old stores along the way. I wasn’t familiar with this part of the state. Not once did I see any other car on the road. We finally turned onto a dirt road. After about a mile the man stopped the truck and pulled it to the side of the road. I looked around and saw nothing.

I suppose I should have been terrified or crying, begging for my life but I wasn’t. I was to drunk to be fearful at this point.

The man looked at me. I could feel his eyes violating my body and it turned me on. He slid across the truck’s seat getting close to me I could feel his breath on me. His pale hand felt warm on my face as he tucked a piece of my red hair that had came lose from it’s ponytail behind my ear.

I leaned my head against the back window and closed my eyes, smiling a bit. Next I felt him run his hand along my neck and jaw. He then took my face in his hand and turned my head. I opened my eyes only to find myself looking right into this man’s piercing eyes. I started to breath heavy as he, still hold my face in his hand, started to trace my lips with his thumb.

Before I knew it I had kissed him. And not just any kiss but a full on stick-my-tongue- into-your-guts kind of kiss which seemed to really turn this guy on. He kissed me back in the same forceful way pushing me up against the truck door. I felt his hand slip under my skirt and remove my underwear. Then he stopped for a moment only to unbutton his own pants and belt but before he could I was helping him as I crawled on top of him, straddling him.

He let me do it. He put his hand on my waist as to position me correctly. And with a thrust he was in me. I started to ride him at a normal pace.

“Slow down.” He ordered with a growl.

I slowed the pace as he had order. He was very forceful in his manner. Clearly he was a man who knew what he wanted.

He then ripped opened the shirt I wearing causing buttons to fly everywhere in the cab. Throwing it to the side he exposed my breast and the fact that I hadn’t been wearing a bra. Without hesitation he grabbed my skirt and began ripping it using a little more force than he had with the shirt. When he was done I was completely naked on top of this man, who I didn’t know, who had killed my cousin earlier that day and I was fucking him like a pro.

I felt a hand on my head, next my hair was out of its ponytail and hanging down my back. He grabbed it pulling my head back and kissing my neck. I felt his hand rub my neck then I felt a little pressure. I started to move my head and I couldn’t. He had both hands around my neck.

“Stop!” I said in a panic.

He applied more pressure.

I tried to move but he pushed me against the dashboard of the truck applying even more pressure to my neck.

“Aammm.” I tried to speak, scream, anything but I couldn’t. Nothing was coming out but a squeak. I was fraying my arm about trying to hit him or grab anything I could but I found nothing. I tried to sallow but couldn’t then I realized I couldn’t breath either. I grabbed his hands trying to pry them from my neck which only may him squeeze harder.

He shifted throwing me into the seat. Still strangling me he started to fuck me again. I was still trying to pull his hands off of me before I blacked out.