Chapter Four

Diana

I DON'T KNOW what to do. There wasn't even a funeral. Mike claimed Mom didn't want one, and Mom has — had — no next of kin except me, and I'm too young to make these decisions.

So now my mother is rotting in the ground in a shitty casket and I'm … I assume I will go to, like, foster care?

I hope.

But hope, to me, really is the last evil in Pandora's box.

All I can be grateful for is that Mom isn't suffering anymore. She's free, finally. Honestly, I'm jealous.

On Monday after Mom passed, I get up and get ready for school, only for Mike to stop me at the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asks.

"School," I reply warily. "Like every weekday."

"Not anymore. Your legal guardian pulled you out in favor of … learning from home." That smile on his face makes me sick.

"Who?" I ask, hoping that means I'll be moving out soon.

"Me. Now, get back in that bedroom and don't come out unless I give you permission. And leave your uniform on," he commands.

My mouth drops. "No, how can you be—"

"I can be anything I want to be with the right connections, money, and favors. Now get the fuck in your room." He slaps me so hard my head tilts and hair flies. "I planned all this for a long fucking time, and now it's time to get the rewards of my work. You're going to make me even richer."

Planned … what? He's not saying…

I lunge at him, getting one good punch to his flabby face. " You killed my mother! That was no accident, you bastard!"

He laughs and catches me, carrying me like a sack of potatoes into my room. He drops me on the bed and I try to get up but he hits me in the gut so hard I lose air and fall back.

"She was of good use to me, but you? You are a fucking gold mine. But you're going to have to lose some of that fat to look younger, smaller, for longer. Maybe I can pass you off as fourteen or even thirteen."

"I will get to the cops somehow," I say. "You're not getting away with this!"

"Do you think even if I let you out, you'd escape me? The police are in my pocket, you stupid cunt." He smiles and shuts the door. I hear a lock turning, sealing me in with my fate.

I sob for a while, anger and grief and fear taking over my mind.

Sometime in the afternoon, I hear the lock on the door jingle.

"Get up, bitch," Mike says. "Your first client is here, and he's waited a long, long time to have a piece of you."

He leaves and his bulk is replaced with a familiar face.

Principal Faulkner.

I knew he was a creep! I knew it! I made sure I was never alone with him because he weirded me out so much.

"Now that your generous guardian has you out of school and living up to your full potential, I felt it was only right I be the first to break you in," he says, closing the door behind him.

"Fuck you," I snap.

He clucks his tongue. "Looks like I need to shut that smart mouth up." He grabs me by the hair with one hand and undoes his pants with the other, bringing out his old, wrinkly, hard cock.

When he shoves it into my mouth, I act on instinct and bite down so hard, hot, coppery blood squirts out, hitting the roof of my mouth. He screams, and the sound is music to my ears.

I gnaw on it, feeling flesh tear beneath my teeth, my mouth filling with more blood. My heartbeat races and I feel alive. For the first time in three years, I feel powerful and … happy.

I'm happy as I bite his dick off, listening to my abuser scream.

He hits me in the jaw and I release his cock, spitting out blood as I do so, and smile at him. Can he see his blood and flesh in my teeth? I hope so.

His miserable cock is disfigured, some of it hanging off, and he lunges for me, but adrenaline and instinct guide me and I attack first, raking my nails down his winkled cheeks. One nail snags his lower eyelid and tears, making him cry tears of blood. The other leaves deep gouges in his cheek.

Faulkner screams louder, angrier, and filled with pain.

The fire in my veins is reaching fever pitch. A few minutes more, and I think I could kill him with my bare hands, and I am dying to find out if I can.

The door opens then, and I sadly can't fight off two men as Mike comes in and shouts something I can't even decipher.

They both lift me and as they begin to beat me, hitting every available surface, including my face, I still smile that bloody smile.

I tasted joy for a fleeting moment. That has to be enough.

When I come to again, my first thought is, if I keep passing out like that, I am going to get brain damage. My second is, where the Hell am I?

The room is all white with bright fluorescent lights and I smell antiseptic. Did I need to go to the hospital?

"She's coming to, Doctor," a woman says, voice dispassionate.

"Oh, too bad she didn't wake when I was using her tight cunt," a man replies. "She's numbed, she can stay awake for the rest of this. I'm almost done with the hysterectomy."

The what ?

My head is spinning and I can't wrap it around what he just said. Isn't that for women in menopause and, God forbid, cancer?

"Welcome back, whore," Mike says from a chair across the room. It takes all my energy to look at him. "While you passed out, I figured it was time to get you here and get you fixed up to be my perfect sex slave. After all, we can't have babies getting in the way. Too many variables, though selling it would make me a pretty penny. I need to be smart, not greedy. Your holes for the next few years are good enough, and most men don't want to wear a condom. They want to think they're breeding a little teenage cow like you."

He walks over and grabs my breasts, which I now see are in a hospital gown. "You'll be ready to go in a month for full-body. They can use your mouth and your udders for now. Doctor Kelvin here had the pleasure of being the last man to cum in your fertile womb before he removed it himself.

"Poetic, isn't it?"

I don't answer.

I can't.

The power and jubilation I felt earlier are gone now, replaced by a dark despondency I fear will never leave me.

I had a momentary victory.

He won the war.

This act, this destruction of my future, is finally what breaks me.