Ghosts of Halloween: Chapter 51

This is ridiculous. We have about half an hour left, and that’s give or take to the point that I’m sweating in profound discomfort. Because if we miss our window, it’s back to the ghostly existence, being trapped somewhere until Harlow comes along to kindly get herself into mortal peril again.

We don’t have time for fucking. And certainly not for Jack to discover his sexuality.

With my Caden.

Who thankfully isn’t too horny to remember himself. He stands up, gives Harlow a quick kiss, and comes over to me, kicking Greg on his way when he whimpers.

“Oh, do shut up,” Caden says before looking back at me. “I’m sorry. I was just fucking with him. You know I love you, baby.”

I grunt, reluctantly letting him kiss me. God, it pisses me off so much that these three assholes get to hear and see this moment. I really want to just kill them already, and I hate every detour we take.

“I forgive you,” I say through clenched teeth. “But we really should get on with this. Or we’ll lose our chance.”

Caden winces but gives me a nod, regret passing over his face. And hell, I really should get us all back on track, but…

“One more thing,” I murmur, leaning in so only he can hear me. “I wouldn’t actually mind you fucking Jack. But only if I get to watch and… help out. Maybe someday.”

I pull back, gratified by the slack-jawed, stupid look on Caden’s face as he nods in instant agreement. I snort, patting him on the cheek, and get the knife from my belt.

“Angel, come here.”

She kisses Jack, giving him a soft smile, and comes over. I push the knife into her hand, handle first, and nod at Michael, who’s semi-conscious, his head lolling.

“Do we kill them already or do you want to play some more? You can, but you’ll have to be fast.”

She takes a bracing breath and squares her shoulders, wincing in pain. Her legs are still shaking, and she looks so pale, her lips bloodless, but her eyes burn with feral determination.

“You said to carve a message,” she says, gripping the knife tightly in her left hand. “Do you think I can do it fast enough?”

“Depends on the length.” I lean over the scum to bare his chest, which is the best canvas for bloody messages. Buttons pop as I force his shirt open, baring the T-shirt underneath. I rip it in half.

“Just one word,” Harlow says.

“Then go for it. I’ll stretch the skin for you so it’s easier. Want to fuck up the other two before you start?”

She glances at Greg and Ryan, her jaw working. A guilty look flashes over her face as she stares at the one who hasn’t raped her. Yet. And I know what she’s thinking, so I grit my teeth and do my best to ease her conscience.

“He would have raped you tonight. Just like the other two. He doesn’t deserve mercy. But if you’d rather not touch him, that’s fine with me. One of us can finish him off.”

“Fuck,” she mutters, shaking her head. “Fine. We don’t… There’s no time. Let’s just get Michael. He’s the only one I care to hurt.”

“Fair enough.”

I slap her ex awake, making sure to hit his fucked up cheek. He startles with a low moan, a bleary eye opening, and flinches when he sees Harlow standing over him with the knife.

“Hello, darling,” I say, knowing how unhinged my smile must look, but damn. I’m enjoying this. “Sleep well?”

I move to stand behind him, bending down to stretch a patch of skin over his right pec. I really hope Harlow gets him through a nipple with a letter or two. As she leans closer, her brow furrowed, my cock jerks in my pants. She exhales in a rush, poising the knife over the stretched patch of skin, and starts carving.

And fuck. Holy shit. This is so hot, my dick hurts from how hard I am.

A slightly lopsided R emerges under the knife, seeping blood. Michael thrashes and yells, and Caden and Jack flank him, holding him down to keep his body as still as possible. We move over to another patch of skin, and Harlow carves an A. So far, she missed the right nipple, but that’s okay. Guess I could just add a little something after she’s done.

P and I are next, and then it’s time for S. I grin when the curve of it catches on Michael’s left areola, making him thrash harder. But Jack and Caden are stronger than him, and they hold him down easily. Harlow stops for a moment, brushing hair off her face, her eyes fixed on the nicked nipple.

“Good girl,” I murmur, not sure she can hear me over Michael’s muffled screaming.

When she shoots me a quick glance, eyes burning in her tight face, I know she heard me. We move on further to the left, and she makes sure to carve the line of her T right through the middle of Michael’s nipple.

He chokes on his desperate scream, shuddering while Jack and Cay hold him down. I grin so widely now, my face hurts, but fuck. This is beautiful. It’s the first time I get to work together with other people while punishing someone, and the team experience is doing it for me.

I wish we had time to fuck now. I’ve never been so horny in my life.

“Kinda crowded at the end there, angel, but otherwise, perfect. You get an A from me.”

She laughs weakly, shaking her head, and hands me the knife. I shrug, whip around, and slam it into Greg’s thigh. Harlow gasps, freezing, and I grin at her, pulling the knife out and hacking down again. And again.

Each time, I move higher up his thigh, until the knife buries in his groin, and Greg, who’s screamed like a pig throughout this little exercise, passes out cold when his pants grow dark with blood.

“Sissy,” I say, eying him with distaste. “I’ve barely started.”

Harlow gasps, her eyes burning bright as she glances from me to Greg and back until she slowly reaches her trembling hand for the knife. I grin, delighted she wants to keep playing, after all, and wipe it on Greg’s shirt before offering it to her with a flourish.

“Really should hurry up now,” Caden says, his voice tight. I glance at him, and he’s on edge, his fists clenched at his sides. I suspect he feels what I do—a profound regret this will end.

Because I feel like I’ve finally found my place on Earth. My family. No, better than a family, because I don’t think any of my relatives would feel comfortable slaughtering rapists together. But these three? They are my true blood and kin, and fuck, I really hope Harlow gets to stay with us after she dies. I don’t want to lose this. Ever.

She grips the knife, breathing faster and faster, until she raises it high in her left hand and plunges it deep into Michael’s stomach. She tears it out with an angry shout, and blood wells, pouring out as Michael writhes and screams, all his muscles tense with agony. Harlow takes the gag out, and the sounds of his suffering come through in full force, making my dick jump with desire.

God, I’m sick. And loving it.

We just stand there and watch as his strength flags. Blood seeps through his jeans and pools on the floor under him, and I suspect Harlow must have hit something really vital for him to bleed out so fast. When Michael stops moving, only shallow breaths indicating he’s still alive, she makes a soft sound of surprise, and Jack puts his arm around her shoulders.

And then, Michael breathes out for the last time, and Jack’s eyes widen. He lunges toward the body, his mouth wide open, and snaps his teeth right over Michael’s lips. I frown, opening my mouth to ask him what he’s doing, when Jack crashes to the floor, his body convulsing like he’s in shock.

It can only mean one thing. We’re out of time.