Wedding Day Massacre

Sebastian had been standing by the stage silently for almost fifteen minutes. Jinx sat by idly; creepy jester eyes submerged in the depths of the strange mask and fixed on the cowering, uneasy crowd. Maybe they were uneasy because Jinx continued to straddle the detonator so menacingly.

The idea that the entire room exploding hinged on the actions of the discernibly disturbed figure had left a constant panic festering inside everyone. To that point, there hadn’t been a dull moment throughout the entire reception.

Taylor’s eyes scanned over the jester and made their way to the crowd. She’d been sizing up the creep’s body, trying to get an idea, any idea to sprout in her head. While riding the constant carousel of terror, it was hard to think but she was doing her best to fight her way through it.

Who was Sebastian’s mysterious silent helping hand? She didn’t have the slightest inclination that Sebastian was a psychopath for the entire duration of their relationship. Never a flare-up in his temper, questionable interests, or anything worthy of raising a flag over. She didn’t even know he had friends outside of work.

Then again, she didn’t particularly spend a lot of time with him or pay him any mind. How could she expect to know? Everything she saw was contrary to what she was seeing presently. In her pain-saturated eyes, Sebastian was just a softie who had erratically tapped into a whole different stratosphere. One that required meticulous plotting, a lack of emotion, and the gastric capacity for evil the likes of which she’d never imagined.

One thing that was running through her mind was how exactly two sick people came to find each other. To her, it seemed logical to think that if someone were to speak about committing carnage of the nature she was entrenched in, that odds were, the person on the other side of the conversation would run away and report them.

But upon further inspection of that thought, she realized history was riddled with countless pairs of deranged individuals that sought the same type of sinister solace that was only found within their twisted companionship.

Maybe the odds were better than she thought. Maybe the disturbed delinquents were breeding at a record rate. It didn’t matter anyway, there would be no solution in crunching the numbers. They had found each other and the threat was real.

Taylor knew tons of people, but realistically, how many of them would truly want to hurt her and potentially exterminate her entire web of friends and family? Forty, maybe fifty percent?

As she continued to assess the path that led her head-first into the grim event, the self-reflection was cutting. She’d never really taken time to think about the people she stepped on en route to the top of the mountain. But the more she pondered the puzzle, the more it was becoming blatantly clear that there were A LOT of people who hated her.

How many people had she wronged? How many men had she manipulated? How many relationships had she wrecked? How many hearts had she stolen? How many guys had she fucked? How many girls had she fucked? The immersive questions continued to parade through her mind, and while all of them were valid, a better question was whose sanity had she stretched?

Whoever this individual was, they were equally as cold and heartless as Sebastian. What if they weren’t even tied to her? That was also a possibility, maybe Sebastian had done some manipulating of his own. Maybe while the cat was away, the mouse had played and found another sick puppy.

Sebastian had been hiding so much shit that it would no longer be surprising if she didn’t know the jester at all. That wasn’t her gut intuition, but it certainly would’ve explained why Sebastian wasn’t phased in the slightest when she’d return home in the late night or early morning with evidence of infidelity shamelessly plastered upon her.

It was simple: he’d been knee-deep in his own debauchery. The only difference was, his decadence was a lot more dangerous than contracting a potential STD (however, it was just as well hidden). But a few doses of penicillin weren’t going to cure this clusterfuck, that was for sure.

Speaking of clusterfuck, her eyes had made their way over to the table of her former (and current) pound pals that she’d so boldly decided to extend an invitation to. The amount of muscle sitting at the table was jaw-dropping. These boys had better racks than half the broads in the joint. She was sure they’d started regretting their decisions already.

The regret had begun to swell inside her. The wise ass, blatantly disrespectful move of not just inviting a former fling to a wedding, but arranging an entire table of these dickheads to share stories seemed like a fruitless and potentially fatal rib now.

If Sebastian had the wherewithal to arrange an up until that point flawless mass execution, then he most certainly knew a lot more than he was letting on. He knew about them, he had to.

She felt thankful that they had done little to attract any attention to themselves thus far but it was inevitable. As the numbers dwindled, it would eventually become a topic for Sebastian’s bizarre spoken word. He was hell-bent on interacting with everyone by the night’s end. It was definitely just a matter of time before the dirty laundry was aired out in front of what was left of the crowd.

Taylor started to notice some uneasy whispers amongst the testosterone-rampant foursome. They were the type of men who were used to being in control at all times. If something was not to their liking, they had the bravado to fix it. But today was a tad different. Their swagger had been circumcised and all they could do was wait.

“What if we all just rush ‘em?” Rocky floated the idea again.

“Keep your fucking voice down. You animal!” Kwan whispered sternly.

Brick looked up to Rocky with fear in his eyes, “I’m in,” he conceded.

“Are you guys as dumb as you look? The clown has a fucking military-grade machine gun and a button that turns us to dust with one touch. No. The only thing we can do is hope he lets us live. If we do what he says, it’s a possibility still,” Luke explained, trying to reason with them. But the expressions the group projected seemed divided.

“Maybe you’re good with drinking your own piss and getting run through like forest lumber, but I ain’t going out like a bitch, okay? He’s just been sitting there doing nothing this whole time, it’s now or never,” Rocky argued.

“Luke is right, if you get up, you’re dead. There isn’t much else to it. Waiting is the only way, or maybe if one of them comes close enough, we could make a move. He said he was leaving survivors, didn’t he?” Kwan wanted to stay as low profile as possible, but keeping these meatheads in line was no task for a novice.

“SURVIVOR. That’s singular, fuck-stick! That means potentially only one of us lives but probably none because look at how many other stupid people are around here.”

Rocky’s correction was warranted but Luke recalled the exact verbiage. “At least one person to tell the story. ‘At least one’ were his exact words. Technically, there could be more than one.”

“Have you looked at the dancefloor lately? If you can look out there and think that this fuckin’ whack-job is leaving more than one, then it’s you that needs your fuckin’ head examined.”

Rocky finished his whispers just as Sebastian made his way back to his feet. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, and then paused for a moment before letting the air out. He was taking it all in like he’d just sniffed a fine wine and it was now swirling around on his pallet. His eyelids fluttered before finding consistency. He looked out at his audience, readying himself to start speaking again.

“This is what I was attempting to explain to you earlier. If we’re just killing out of convenience and squeezing in as much violence as we can because the fear that it will be over any moment is always hovering over us, well, that’s quite a waste, isn’t it?”

Sebastian slowly poured out a quarter glass of vodka from a bottle he’d snatched away from behind the bar earlier. He slung back the clear alcohol and looked toward his guests.

“You need time to understand it, digest it. Let it air out for a moment and take it in before what comes next. You know, I don’t believe heaven is a place, I believe it’s a state of mind. And it’s different for everyone,” he explained, walking closer to the steroid stable of beefcake.

“For some, it’s dancing or a good steak, for others, it’s the more traditional understanding we were raised to look forward to. For someone like me, it probably looks a lot closer to something out of Dante’s Inferno. The variance is important, it allows flexibility, it allows boundless options. For example, you, sir, I don’t believe we’ve formally met before. Brick, is your preferred forename, is that correct?”

“Um, yeah,” he nodded, discomfort arising from the fact that he already knew who he was.

“Imagine that? Named after a building material, how original.” Sebastian looked toward Taylor who now stood beside the blood-covered table that had traumatized Paula and Cindy.

“Honey, is this the one that left his liquid babies caked into your extensions that beautiful evening when I proposed to you?”

The crowd let out a gasp. It was good to know that Jerry Springer-style drama still had a place, even when it was surrounded by absolute depravity.

Taylor was unequivocally flabbergasted; she didn’t know how to respond. How could he tell I have extensions? she thought as her face rushed full of rosy blush. Also, he let the cat out of the bag about the whole hook-up situation… Sebastian knows much more than he’s letting on… she continued on with the poorly prioritized thoughts in her simple mind.

“It’s okay, I’m not mad, baby. I mean, clearly you thought you were playing me, but now you know what the deal is. So, just answer the goddamn question before you really do tick me off.”

“No, it was Rocky,” she responded with disgrace slathering her tone.

The crowd didn’t seem stunned, it could’ve been that they were all already just as aware of Taylor’s infidelities as Sebastian was, or maybe the fact that publicly revealing a cheater was peanuts compared to the breed of mayhem they’d all just been smacked in the face with.

A hot redness started swelling to the surface of Rocky’s block-like head. He could feel the multitude of eyeballs targeting him. Even he was smart enough to realize he was in deep shit.

“Okay, okay, you’re right. I must have gotten it mixed up. Brick here is the one that boned you last night, do I have it straight now?”

It took Taylor a few seconds, but this time she nodded her head slowly in defeat.

“Say it,” Sebastian demanded.

“Yes. You’re right.”

“In fact, Kwan and Luke have both been inside you recently too, haven’t they?”

“Yes.”

“Well… it appears you certainly have a type.”

Sebastian circled the table, placing his fingertips on the shoulder of each of the behemoths. He didn’t seem angry, more amused than anything. As he made his way around, he selected a word to describe each man that he recited for the group.

“Bulging… shredded… shallow… and… stupid. I think it’s also interesting to note that while I’m directing a different word toward each of you, all of these descriptors are interchangeable. You’re all the same. You all exhibit a pitiful plethora of identical traits and tendencies.”

Sebastian suddenly jerked his focus away from the bodybuilders and back toward Taylor.

“This is so predictable. You’re so predictable it’s pathetic. It didn’t take much research for me to comprehend that mental capacity isn’t something you seem to see value in. No, you’ve always been obsessed with the shell. The gym memberships, the muscle shirts, the spray tans. Inside, they could be as hollow as a chocolate bunny and it wouldn’t phase you one bit.”

“Chocolate bunny! I want a chocolate bunny!” Christopher yelped through the cracks of his father’s fingers. Anthony tried to hush him but it was too late; Sebastian had keyed in on the boy again. A bizarre correlation began stirring about in his mind.

“No, Dad, it’s okay. You don’t have to hold him back. In fact, I’m glad he decided to speak up. Ironically, it makes sense. It all makes perfect sense, now. Your brother is retarded…” he said, sticking the left thumb out as if calculating his theory.

“And you’ve invited an entire table of retards—which, might I add, you’ve been fucking with consistency—to our wedding.”

He let his index finger join his thumb and looked up at her, “So, there must be some kind of pent-up sexual tension between you and Christopher, right?”

A stunned silence resonated all around.

“N-No!” Taylor stammered out.

“What did you say to me?”

“You told me to tell the truth about everything. I’m telling you the truth, Sebastian, I swear to you.” The waterworks started up, causing her make-up to run over the retreads of sadness again.

Anthony had reached a boiling point inside, the scalding indignation he felt was edging to where it was nearly uncontrollable. He couldn’t let him keep talking to his little girl the way he was, but at that moment, he still had no say in the matter.

He thought about trying to take him out but caught a glimpse of the maniacal jester mere yards away. Jinx’s heathenish eyes hovered coldly, hiding like a coward behind the mask. There was nothing relaxed about the intensity the clown was gripping the AK with. The sicko didn’t take a second off, at any moment, the barrel was ready to be fired. The odds of making a move that would alter the power pyramid were shit and they never seemed ready to shift.

“Come over here, now, Taylor,” Sebastian commanded, curling his fingers in towards his chest. Taylor reluctantly shuffled to the table where her family was seated, and like a dog to her master, she waited for further direction.

“I want you to repeat after me,” he paused for a moment, returning back to the thought he’d already moved on from, “and I don’t want you to say it because your life hangs in the balance, or because you’re afraid. I want you to say it because it’s the fucking truth, do you understand me?”

“Yes,” she replied, sniffling the snot up that was running from her nose.

“Let me see it, I want to hold it right now because I’m not convinced I won’t need it momentarily.” Sebastian reached outward toward Jinx, beckoning for the AK. Jinx handed it over without making a comment and watched Sebastian grip it tightly, like he was doing everything possible to control himself. He wasn’t aiming it at anyone but he was more than ready to as his eyes again locked onto his wife.

“All I do is fuck retards…” Sebastian said, watching her closely.

“All I do is fuck retards…” she recited.

“And that’s why…”

“And that’s why…”

“I’m going to fuck my retard brother.”

The chorus of huffs and gulps from the crowd was becoming redundant. Anthony’s eyes began to glaze over while his molars ground against each other. Taylor tried to finish speaking but the words just weren’t coming out.

“Well?” Sebastian asked, watching her squirm while her mind raced thinking up a response.

“I-I can’t. I just can’t,” Taylor replied, frightened to the core.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because it’s wrong! It’s evil, Sebastian!” she yelped, beginning to lose control.

“Is it because your dad is here? Is he making it weird?” he inquired as he started to elevate his barrel. Anthony slowly removed his hands from Christopher and pushed him away.

“No, please!” Taylor yelled.

Anthony didn’t have time to get his boy out of harm’s way and pull his gun. Taylor’s begging was instantly overshadowed by the disturbing pops of the automatic spraying. A half-dozen or so apricot-sized holes blew into Anthony’s toned chest before the force tipped his chair backwards and he spilled over onto the floor.

Anthony thrashed about restlessly, choking on his own blood while the contents of his torso spilled out of the gaping hole in his lower back. Taylor fell to the ground beside her father and could see that his condition was critical. His lips fluttered rapidly as he emitted a series of dire coughs. He wouldn’t be coming back from the shots he took.

She could plainly see that one of his lungs was punctured and dangling halfway out of his back. She reached around him and tried to hold the deflated organ up and prevent it from falling as best she could. The feeling of his warm, quaking insides was a sickening and inexplicable sensation.

Taylor held his head up and immediately noticed something swirling in her father’s pupils that was highly abnormal. It was something that Taylor had never seen him project, at least as far as she’d ever known. It was uncertainty.

His wife, Lisa, who up until that point had been suffocating all emotion, began to unravel. She stood up and charged Sebastian, cursing him carelessly, any sane thought had finally evaporated. Something upstairs had snapped and left her with a total disregard for her own safety.

It wasn’t hard for him to counter her action; he simply sidestepped and swung the butt of the rifle into her cheek. A lengthy gash formed, stretching all the way up to her earlobe. A couple of molars in the rear of her mouth were loosened as she fell to the ground unconscious.

“C’mon, we’re family now, we can’t be fighting like this! Especially in front of guests!” Sebastian remarked sarcastically.

Taylor watched her father start to fade. He was gargling a hot broth of reddish gore and choked, accidentally spitting the wad all over Taylor’s face. She was quite accustomed to having a mass of warm fluid coating her grill but never this hue.

In his dying moments, Anthony’s mangled left hand lifted his blazer up discreetly, showing his daughter the gleaming steel of the revolver that was tucked away into the hidden holster inside. As she wiped the blood from her eyes, they widened.

She caught a glimpse of the weapon but before she could react or think about going for it, another handful of shells deconstructed Anthony’s face. What remained of his head fell backwards, he was now merely a mindless puzzle of deformity and death.

Sebastian’s heartless tone invaded her ears again, “Get up now, bitch. If you wanna give Mommy a better chance than ol’ Pop, you would heed my warnings.”

Sebastian was growing more and more ruthless by the second. Any trace of the man she knew prior had vanished or maybe it was just never there in the first place. It seemed that the madman was in control of everyone but himself.

She felt like she didn’t have a choice, her dad had ceased any movement. His final act was one that he hoped might give his family a chance at survival, even though he would have no shot at exhaling beside them when it was finally over. However, the fact remained that if she went for the gun, she would be dead long before she got a chance to use it.

Thankfully, she knew how to handle a firearm. Anthony had taken her to shatter a few bottles years ago with what looked to be the same piece. She caught on quickly and enjoyed their homemade shooting range. Anthony had figured based on his little girl’s personality and everlasting enemies list that she could do with learning how to protect herself. However, even he was surprised that Taylor was interested. Even though she was a princess girly girl, she was a damn good shot.

Taylor understood that she couldn’t use the gun at the moment, but at least she knew it was there. She could only cross her fingers that an opportunity would somehow present itself if she lasted long enough. Still, part of her considered the discovery a bad omen since her father was in the process of expiring most likely with similar thoughts in his own head that had failed to manifest.

“Come over here now and get on your knees beside your dreamboat bro,” Sebastian instructed, pointing to the floor with the gun barrel.

“Papa, where’d you get all that jelly from? STOP! NO, PLEASE STOP ALL THAT JELLY, PAPA!” Christopher took a gander downward at his leaky hero and was still understandably not grasping the finality of the scene before him.

“Whoa, calm down a moment, fella. You know Papa’s a real rascal sometimes, he’s just resting up… Let’s just let him relax for a bit, but in the meantime, you wanna open a gift?”

The boy’s eyes lit up as Taylor’s filled with more water. Sebastian looked back at Jinx with a devious smirk, “Well, we don’t wanna keep him waiting, grab a little something for the kid. Grab the special one.”

Jinx walked over and retrieved a small square box enveloped in neon pink wrapping paper and returned to Christopher, setting it down in front of him. The playful boy slapped it a few times and shook it around before tossing it back on the table like a lion rejecting its cub.

“Well, go ahead, have at it, kid. I got this one special, just for you,” Sebastian explained.

Christopher seemed unamused, but to Taylor’s relief, did as he was instructed. He peeled back the cheap wrapper and ripped into the thin cardboard shell. The contents revealed were four individual pairs of handcuffs, a roll of duct tape, and a mask that was extremely peculiar in appearance.

The stretchy black material was clearly some kind of strange custom design that sought to block out particular senses of whoever donned it. There was no way to see or smell through the leathery hide as it was crafted to encompass the entire head.

Additionally, there were steel plates bonded onto sound-neutralizing earplugs that were fixed to each side of the mask. The only senses that the skull leech didn’t render useless were touch and taste. The single mouth hole was all that gave access to oxygen but there was a catch. The entire boundary of the air opening was encircled by a shiny razor-sharp metal that served as the lips.

“Okay, kid, I lied a little bit. This gift isn’t entirely for you. The cuffs are yours though. Glad we bought these in bulk.” Sebastian smiled as Jinx took the wrist-locks away from him.

“But the mask here is actually for your big sister,” Sebastian continued.

Jinx proceeded to grab the confused boy by each of his limbs and fasten the chrome restrictors to different parts of the chair, crippling Christopher’s movement entirely. Next, Jinx grabbed hold of the sinister mask and tossed it into the blood-puddled floor in front of Taylor.

“This is a real fun game!” Christopher chimed in.

“Darn right it is! Wait until you see just how fun it gets! Are you excited?” Sebastian asked.

“I’m excited! I’m excited!” Christopher shrieked.

“Wonderful! Put the fucking mask on, bitch,” Sebastian commanded Taylor in a stern tone.

“PLEASE! Don’t make me… don’t make me do this!” Taylor cried.

Sebastian glanced over toward Jinx, “I think she’s gonna need some help.”

While Sebastian’s AK remained fixed on his lady, the perverse helper scooped up the mask and began to muscle it over the terrified bride’s cranium. It was an awkward task, like trying to put a condom on a cousin.

Taylor gagged as the still warm and fresh blood that was her father’s coated the saturated rawhide and somehow found its way into her mouth. As the guise blocked out some of her senses, those that still remained were heightened. The taste of thick life-force was nauseating. She spat out her father’s fluid in an attempt to avoid vomiting, but she did so carelessly and neglected the razor portal that was fixed at her mouth’s end.

As her slick tongue flicked the rosy saliva off her palate, the tip of the muscle made contact with the shining steel demonstrating just how dangerous it was. About a half-inch-worth of her tongue was spliced off and fell into a freshly created pool on her lower jaw.

Screams emanated as she grabbed at her face (even though she couldn’t get to it) and skinned her ring finger. Crimson leaked all over the massive love diamond that Sebastian had given her as she contemplated if she should spit the severed chunk of tongue out of her mouth.

Her warped husband laughed, seeing the humor and irony behind her unknowingly mutilating, of all fingers, that particular finger. Moments later, she ejected the wad of humanity as her lungs pumped furiously and her back contracted.

“My fucking tongue!” she cried with a new lisp now in play that detracted heavily from her normally cocky demeanor.

“I’m fuckin’ deformed, you sick bastard!” It came out as ‘thick bathtard,’ almost making her sound intellectually on par with her brother. “It won’t stop bleeding! My mouth keeps filling up!” she shrieked.

Jinx pulled up the steel plate embedded into the mask over her left ear and allowed her to listen.

Sebastian watched a massive cascade of crimson drop down onto the hardwood as he answered her.

“Well, you better get to work then,” he replied, snatching up the duct tape off the table. “Once you pop the retard’s oral cherry, we can get that bleeding stopped for you.”

Sebastian started to spiral the gray tape roll all around the fantastically obedient Christopher’s lips and neck before slowly working his way up to the eyes and forehead. In a matter of seconds, he was a mummified gray giggling blank slate.

“Now, remember, you can’t stop until he cums in your mouth, that’s the rules.”

“I won’t fucking do it, go to hell, Sebastian!”

“I think it’s a lot more likely that you’ll be going before me, honey, but who am I to judge…” Sebastian explained, handing the machine gun over to Jinx.

He extracted an expandable blade from inside his pant and cut out a large square patch of cloth above Christopher’s cock. The excitable boy squirmed about, breathing heavily through his mouth; it was hard to tell if he was enjoying the game anymore.

“Look at the sheer size of this fuckin’ thing!” Sebastian squawked. He grabbed a firm hold of the beastly, vein-riddled pipe, “Jesus, you got a permit for this thing, kid?”

Sebastian knelt down beside Taylor and put his lips to her exposed ear and the knife to her throat, “Either you get going now and give him a chance to live, or I can cut his prick off, put it in a blender, and feed it to you that way.”

Taylor’s tears evoked no pity, he plunged the tip of the steel into her sternum and drove it back and forth, creating a small cavity of gore. Her pleas didn’t deter him from pulling out the knife tip and creating long oozing slashes over her pretty shoulders next. Sebastian’s violence was always prompt and savage, the sadist in him forever aroused by her cries for mercy. His harsh malice and negligence seemed to have finally inspired an attitude adjustment.

“Please, I’m sorry! Stop cutting me! Stop cutting me!” she begged, now feeling the throbbing pain fostered by the many lacerations.

Sebastian quickly collapsed the knife and put it back into his pocket. He stared out to the crowd of horrified onlookers, no doubt imagining what choice they might have made.

“It’s very simple, people, it can be easy or it can be hard. But rest assured, when I tell you to do something, one way or another, you’re damn-well gonna do it.”

“Don’t move,” he ordered Taylor as he pressed one hand under a gash in her torso and used the other to squeeze blood out of it. She banged her feet into the floor, trying to bite her tongue as pain surged from the manual liquid purge.

Once he had collected a significant sum of blood, he walked back over to Christopher who was still fidgeting about in an uncomfortable manner while his fat horse-like cock flapped about. Sebastian dispensed his sister’s secretions all over the massive tool, leaving it wet and red. Then he knelt down on one knee beside the boy and started stroking the goliath shaft.

“You better hope that he’s a shower, not a grower. Either way, I think if you’re careful enough, you can suck him off without skinning his entire shaft. The hole in your mask looks to be just big enough… but you’re really gonna need to concentrate here, he’s got a fuckin’ monster attached to him so there’s not a hell of a lotta room for error. The quicker you get his rocks off, the better the end result.”

Sebastian locked onto the area where Taylor should have been as a perverse grin overtook him. “He’s nice and ready for you now, hard as heaven. It’s time to come and get it, honey,” Sebastian snickered.

He continued to jerk the throbbing meat and call out to his wife, “Come here, baby, come and get him…” he whispered, watching her crawl blindly through the half coagulated stretches of her father’s hemoglobin.

Once she got in range, he guided her gently by the back of her head into Christopher’s now erect penis. He was vigilant and wanted to ensure she got a fair shake at the task.

“That’s a girl. Here, grab it yourself now,” he huffed, placing her hand at the base of his dick.

He pushed her head slightly forward and then a bit to the right like a barber searching for the proper angle during a haircut.

“Okay, your mouth is right over his cock… NOW! If you go directly down on him and hold him firm, you’re set up for success,” he proclaimed before closing up the metal plating over her earhole.

Blood rained down from Taylor’s leaking mouth all over Christopher’s already cherry cock. She opened her lips, creating a firm edge. She tasted her salty tears pulled down by her mask, stinging the open wounds of her oral cavity. Fear bubbled inside; she didn’t want to hurt her brother but she couldn’t shake the thought of how disgusting what she was about to do was.

Even more concerning than the repulsive aspect of the act was the clear and present danger. Based on her own encounter with the exterior of the mask, she knew that one wrong slant or slip and she might sever his penis or peel it with the ease of a banana.

Her neck was stiff as she descended on him carefully. Her heart thrashed about, pulsating her grisly sternum as the perspiration accumulated with each inch that was disappearing between them. Gradually, she tasted him enter her wet mouth and he tasted like neglect. Through the blood, sweat, and tears, Christopher’s elongated and unwashed jaw-breaker was salty and pungent like it’d just been pulled out of a street scrounger’s ripened asshole.

Her rancid disrelish had caught her off guard; she expected him to be cleaner. She gagged, fighting the urge to vomit, it would cause movement and things might go south fast. She decided that deepthroating him would be the best solution to keep his dirty dick safe. The enormous uncircumcised bulge bullied her uvula backward and filled up her tiny throat as she continued onward like a carny sword swallower.

The amount of wiggle room in her esophagus was dangerously slim. She continued to gag but remained still. She tried to breathe through her nose but the mask was so tight, it restricted the airflow.

While Taylor struggled to efficiently trigger her brother’s ejaculation (with some admittedly bomb head), Sebastian watched. He glanced back over to the table of her former fuck buddies and looked at Brick. He sat terrified by the highly disturbing presentation.

“I bet you’re gonna miss that, huh? I know I sure as hell will.”

Brick stayed silent as his testosterone-troubled frame shook and he sobbed like a little girl. The other meatheads attempted to console each other, fearing that their own fates could be much worse than the horror that progressed and contorted before them. The wave of emotion was probably derived from the thought that the evil spectacle was merely a sick form of eerie foreshadowing.

“What the fuck!” Lisa yelled through her recent facial alterations.

She’d somewhat regained consciousness and stumbled upon the offensive incestual event which Sebastian had orchestrated. The sickening feeling crushed her guts and mind—it distracted her so effectively that she didn’t even notice her freshly modified tooth gaps and split lips.

The confusion and horror screamed from her surface. Sebastian shifted his gaze from the arranged love affair back to his mother-in-law. “She shouldn’t have to watch this. No mother should be put through this… it’s too much. So we can ensure she doesn’t, Jinx, please break her orbital bones and mash her fucking eyeballs to a pulp.”

As Jinx set off toward the mortified mother, Sebastian headed back to the stage. He extracted a lengthy machete from the sliding panel underneath the stairs and promptly reapproached the twisted sex act. He set his feet behind Christopher and looked down at Taylor frozen in place, still oblivious with her senses snuffed out and carefully deepthroating her brother.

“If he’s getting head, then so am I…” Sebastian announced.

Sebastian raised the machete and sawed into Christopher’s spine while his frame began to shake and gyrate uncontrollably. As he pulled off the boy’s tape-layered head, two eruptions commenced in graphic unison. There was the release from the foursome of jugular veins that had been opened at the throat and the second from his first load of steaming hot sperm that rocketed down his big sister’s windpipe.

His first orgasm was a fucking doozy, like milking a cow that had months of buildup. As the creamy barrage of shots pelted her flesh tunnel, she felt a microscopic measure of liberation. Taylor’s body shook about just as violently as her brother’s. The raunchy blend of vomit and cum slimed its way forcefully out of both her nostrils and trickled down her lips.

Taylor stood up and lost her balance and fell tumbling backwards. The mask metal dug into his rod, skinning from the base of his shaft up to the tip of his dick. It came off cleaner than peeling a potato. The strip of pared penis flesh dangled over the top. It only remained attached due to the uncircumcised casing held in place by the crusty strength of a cheesy ring of foul smegma. The barf-worthy bondage was an adhesive for the ages.

She tore the leather like an animal before finally ripping the mask from her head. Upon finding her facial freedom again, she regurgitated a foul cyclone of undigested food, blood, and cum. It rained out of her pie hole and onto Christopher’s motor boating red bone. Boogers and bile splashed from both nostrils as she caught the first glimpse of her brother; his memory to be forever tarnished by the final acts of skeeve inflicted upon him.

She loosened her grip and the scarring mask fell, landing in the messy waste pile on the floor beside her. Taylor looked for Christopher’s head but it was nowhere in front of her; it was gone. She followed the liquid exploding from his throat down to her own personal handy work. The chaos ingrained upon him was incomprehensible, it was a stamp on his downtrodden existence; the end of days.

A feminine screech drew her attention from her annihilated brother’s convulsing corpse. Sebastian stood beside Jinx holding a sword-like device and what she could only assume was Christopher’s decapitated top. Jinx was keeping busy driving the butt of the gun into Lisa’s head.

Taylor watched, speechless, as her defenseless mother’s cheekbones collapsed in on themselves and her nose turned sideways. The jester kept going until the buttstock was covered with steaming hunks of her skin and face. The sick bastard continued further until her face became one with the wall she was slumped against. Jinx didn’t stop until it looked like a wig was sitting on top of an unmade pile of pig slop.

Sebastian turned back to her as Jinx let off a full clip of shells that tore through her guts. “Your mom, she got real upset when she saw what you were up to, being the fucking perverted slut that you are. So, we made it so you can’t upset her anymore…”

Taylor stood in a state of quiet devastation—it was as if she’d just been struck by a missile. Her entire immediate family had been put down hard in a cruel and extraordinary manner. She was finally able to stop throwing up, having emptied all of her stomach’s contents, despite a lingering feeling of internal illness. The detachment of her tongue-tip left blood still pouring without fail from her jaws.

“That’s right, babe, I almost forgot, we gotta patch you up. We can’t have you bleeding out, no, we’re just getting started here.”

He wandered back to the same area of the stage as before. This time, he retrieved a bulky navy blue cylindrical canister. He unscrewed a knob and used a sparker clipped to the side of the device to create the flame. A working blowtorch was a horrifying blend of both good and bad news for Taylor.

“Hold her down on the table,” Sebastian said.

The jester’s compliance was unquestionable and, within seconds, Jinx had swept Taylor off her feet and had her laid out on the table. She just let it happen, like a rape victim that the fight had already escaped from.

Sebastian produced a pair of pliers from his pants and quickly pounced on her. While Jinx had a vice-like clutch on both the top and bottom of her head, Sebastian used the steel grips to clamp down on the center of her oozing tongue.

Taylor writhed in anguish as the flame started to sear the gash. A bottomless black crust appeared, cauterizing the once drippy opening. Sebastian looked into the havoc festering inside her pupils and whispered, “I always wanted to melt in your mouth.”