Wicked God - S01 E27

Story 1 week ago

Wicked God - S01 E27

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 27

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Skylar dashed for her personal kitchen. With flying steps and laboured breaths, she crashed her weight into the kitchen island.

She didn’t have to climb it. She was tall enough to reach for a knife and pluck it off the hanging steel.

She dashed back outside with only one plan in her skull: Slice off his penis and make it into barbeque.

She’d eat and even pick her teeth afterwards.

But getting back to the living room, it was empty. He was gone.

No trace of him.

The door was still tightly shut. How did he even leave?

Only the smell of his perfume remained in this place.

The offensive earthly scent.

She entered her room and came back with her spray bottle.

She sprayed the room, taking his scent away before dropping the knife and spray bottle on the floor.

Her towel nearly slipped away from her body, but she quickly grabbed both ends and wrapped it back.

Her senses must still be thinking he was still here, reason why the wrap back was too immediate.

She dropped her weight on the couch, taking a bottled water from the table, but even while drinking from it, she couldn’t balance.

She wanted to kill him.

Gawd. She wanted him gone for daring to enter this place and unboxing his monster at her face.

What were Dread Armies doing? How could he enter like that?

She spranged up and rushed to the window. She pushed it open and saw a little scratch on the sill.

It looked like the underneath of the sill was dragged with something.

And that was when it registered.

He climbed through the window.

He must have attached a rope somehow and climbed with it.

She sniffed the air. The smell of the popular non-soluble glue lingered faintly. He must have used the glue to finish the rope work when she was in the bathroom for several minutes.

That unlikable bastard.

Her fist rounded, and when she looked up from the window sill, she saw him—across her window.

He stood by his own window, giving her that evil eye and menacing smirk.

She rushed back to pick the knife and came back to the window.

Thanks to the strength cos of his presence, she was able to throw the knife across the two houses.

El Crow didn’t move. But he raised his hand, catching the knife by the hilt, all without looking away from her.

Seeing the knife didn’t get his chest as planned, Skylar cussed under her breaths, not minding if she was in a towel or not. She simply didn’t care.

He exposed his second hand which held a paper.

He inserted the paper in the knife hilt and threw the knife back.

Skylar didn’t catch it, but it got stuck on the wall beside her window.

El Crow left his window.

She pulled out the knife and removed the paper. It had wordings—a note which she read in a breath.

~Keep the image of it in your head, Cumslut. The next time you call me gay with that mouth, you’ll be seeing more than a cock.

She wrapped her fist around the note, rage doubling.

She swept her damp hair away from her face, throwing her window shut.

“Asshole!” She gritted.

Instantly, the doorbell came.

The pussy warmer she ordered for entered the room.

It was the same one from last time.

She didn’t tell him anything. He was exclusive to using his mouth on her alone. She didn’t even read the new medical report he brought along.

He wouldn’t dare come here with a diseased system anyways.

She got her belt, sat on the couch with spread legs. He knelt and dived in, eating into the fresh flesh.

Skylar closed her eyes, trying to get lost in the ecstasy as usual. At times, she’d slam the belt on his back, and he’d stiffen before going on.

He lifted his hands to touch her thighs, but her eyes opened…

“Touch me, and I’ll dice your fingers.”

His hands went down to grab the couch, and his grunts heat her pvssy as he ate deep like he was hired to. He didn’t use the tongue. She’d probably behead him if he does.

“Don’t breathe on me, damn!” She complained. “Are you eating a damn stone? Don’t fuckin… Heck, you’re ruining my mood like a bitch.”

She slammed the belt on his already discoloured back, and qnother red mark slashed across his skin.

He gripped the couch again, his fingers nearly puncturing the leather as shaky, hot breaths left him.

“Get out!” She ordered.

He raised his head, mouth dryer than dessert sand.

“You couldn’t even get a little cum out of me? Look at you. You look stupid!” She pushed his head back.

“I’m… sorry, Skylar…” He apologized, getting up slowly.

“Go!” She glared. “Get the fuck…geez.”

He left the suite, and her legs went together as she rested her elbows on her propped knees.

She was about to start thinking about the hundredth way to kill the stitchmouth when the doorbell came again, invading her privacy.

Quincy and Renee entered.

“Girl, I know you’re never in a good mood, but your mood is more bitter tonight. Who pissed you off?” Quincy asked with concern.

“Maybe the eater we saw leaving didn’t eat her well.” Renee shrugged. “We all know in the history of eating in here, no one has been able to make this dry bitch here come.”

She sat after saying that.

Skylar hissed, not wanting to talk to them, but she pushed herself to.

“What do you both want?”

“Trainings from you,” Renee chirped without minding.

Skylar sat upright.

“Why should I train you?”

“We need to move to top tier, Skylar,” Quincy replied. “I’m sorry if it’ll be convenient but—”

“Of course it is inconvenient.” Skylar faced him with a scowl. “But I can of course make an exception for you cos you’ve been there. I’m asking why I should train this sister of yours?”

“Why would you train my brother alone?” Renee stood in opposition. “Why would you wanna be in the training lab with only my brother? Are you in love with my brother?”

Skylar’s mouth opened to talk, but her eyes also blinked in astonishment, both colliding and causing her brain to flip.

“Skylar…” Quincy tried to do damage control, but it was too late.

Skylar grabbed Renee by the band of her skirt like a cop, glaring catastrophically like she’d off her head and drink tea with the skull.

Renee swallowed.

“Say that again, baby. The little question about if I’m in love with your brother, repeat it!”

—

[Enigma House – El Crow’s Suite]

Bellatrix was still where she sat, looking alone, abandoned.

A typical stray cat.

She kept looking at the corner that led to the bedroom door.

El Crow arrived some minutes ago, and he just entered his bedroom without talking to her.

She promised to stay calm and patient, but she was losing it.

She’s used to being alone in her father’s mansion as she had no playmates as kids and no friends as an adult. She was homeschooled throughout her education.

But it was different with him and Skylar. She wishes to get to befriend Skylar and also have El Crow as a boyfriend—if possible.

If he wouldn’t be hers, then she’d just have him and Skylar as her besties.

She smiled charmingly, noticing something under the center table.

She stretched her arm and took it. It’s a small passport of a guy who looked oddly familiar. His face was somewhere in her head. She just couldn’t pinpoint at the moment.

She was still staring when it was snatched from her. She looked up, and she stood on her heels when she saw El Crow glaring at her.

“I…I’m sorry if I crossed boundaries. I just…I…saw the passport under the table aand…it looked familiar—”

“Who does he look like?” He voiced out, still glaring.

Bellatrix paused, brain clocking.

“Um… Satan. He looks like Dread team Boss Satan.”

El Crow’s glare faded. He looked at the passport too. It’s same as the framed picture in his bedroom.

“He looks like Satan cos he’s Satan’s son.” He sat slowly.

“Oh…” She sounded, sitting back too. “I heard Satan had a son before having the twins, but the son died mysteriously. I heard that when the son was still alive, your family used to be friends with Satan’s family, and you used to be one team. You even used to be close-knit with the son, but after the son’s death, something unknown happened, and war broke. The team had to split to Enigma and Dread,” She narrated.

El Crow’s head went up.

“For somehow who never leaves her father’s house, you know a lot.”

She smiled.

“I’m always at home doesn’t mean I don’t make researches, and I’ve been stalking you for months now. I searched for your IG account, but I found none. I heard you deleted it after the death of Satan’s son.”

“Wrap it up now.” his glare formed again—harder. “Enough of it.”

Bellatrix blinked guiltily. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended y—”

“And stop saying sorry every minute! Geez.” He stood suddenly, peeved.

Bellatrix blinked, throat twisting as her face went down.

“I’m… sorry for saying so—I mean….I won’t say it again.”

“Are you really your father’s daughter?” He walked to her.

“Through and through.” She looked up with a little smile. “And I believe you’re your father’s son too. I believe you over your mother. I believe it was Ma who cut you.”

“You do?” His brows knotted as he stood in front of her, hands pocketed.

“I do,” she answered. “And it’s not because of my crush on you or anything. I just believe Ma is shady in some kind of ways.”

“And I’m not shady?” He sat on the center table, facing her.

Her shoulders stiffened.

“You’re shady with your temper and your ever-frowny face, but I’d rather believe you over Ma.”

El Crow’s lips moved aside in a little smirk as he gave her a glance.

“You think I’m gay too?”

“What!” She blinked. “No! I wouldn’t crush on you if you were gay!”

“I know.” He stood. “That little bootlicking girl is blind.”

Bellatrix went silent.

“What do you want? Coffee? Tea? Yogurt or milkshake? Pick one,” He offered genuinely.

“Milkshake.” She blinked.

“You’re so predictable,” he mentioned before heading for the kitchen.

She stood and rushed after him.

She stood by the door, watching him open his freezer. He took a cookie first, throwing it in his mouth.

He was chewing as he prepared her milkshake slowly.

“Listen to me, Bellatrix,” He spoke suddenly. “I don’t want to date anyone especially you. You can’t handle me at all. My father told me to date you cos your father wants it. You look breakable, and even if I wanted to date, I wouldn’t do you. I hate nice girls who say sorry everytime—”

“I’ll change!” She cut in, entering with him. “I can change for you.”

He glanced at her, inserting straw in her milkshake.

“Don’t fucking change for me. I won’t change for anybody.”

“But I like you enough to change for you,” she insisted. “You can teach me how to be mean, or I can take mean classes from Skylar, and I’ll—”

“Don’t mention that name here.” He brought the milkshake to here.

“But we can pretend to date to fool my father and yours.” He added, looking her in the eye.

Bellatrix melted, taking the milkshake from him.

She couldn’t even drink.

“You can’t fool my dad, El. Fake date without kissing or…. making love?”

“It’s called fucking. Say that.” He leaned down to her height level.

“Fu…cking.” She whispered.

“Prude.” He lifted himself. “Another reason. I don’t like short girls, and I don’t like prim and proper ones too. Love making?” He chuckled. “Are you from the 90s?” He swiped his tongue over his mouth scar and lip ring.

“I can learn and adapt, I swear.” She assured helplessly.

“Let’s fake-date, and yes i won’t kiss or fuck you. Unless you’re willing to die under me,” He said.

“But…my dad will….”

“I’ll handle your dad, girlfriend.” He interrupted. “Can you calm your clitoris?” He gave her a glance again.

She sipped from her milkshake, the mere saying of girlfriend from his mouth making her giddy.

Her cheeks heated, and she took another gentle sip.

She was the same person who punished Roselle in the woods. Same person who attended Ma’s banquet without shaking, but here she was, trembling in front of this man.

“So I can call you boyfriend now?”

“We’re fake-dating, of course you can. Don’t be slow.” He walked back to the freezer and picked another cookie.

His love for cookies is too much.

As he ate, he faced her.

“Hey, have you ever wondered how fingers taste?”

“Huh?” She lowered her straw.

“I ate one last week at the piercers, and it tasted bitter, I had to spit it out. Now I’m wondering if toes taste the same,” He muttered seriously.

Bellatrix choked on her milkshake, and he laughed with a deep depth which made her stare in awe.

Ten minutes later, she left. El Crow became alone in the suite again.

He didn’t leave the freezer. He took a bottle of cocoa drink and drained it.

He slammed it back on the kitchen island, and some spilled as he stared into space, imagining the horror on Skylar’s face when she saw the meat.

He laughed sickly again.

—

[Dread House – Renee’s Room]

“She’s too hot tempered! It was a joke question!” Renee complained with unceasing hisses.

She left Skylar’s Suite with Quincy some minutes ago, and she hadn’t been able to stop complaining.

Even now as she took her towel and the bag containing her toiletaries, ready to go for her night shower.

“We both know it wasn’t a joke question,” Quincy replied by her bed. “Why would you ask if she was in love with me? That one? In love with someone? Are you kidding?”

“Of course you’d support her! She almost ripped my skirt!” She yelled.

“I don’t support her dragging your skirt, and I’ll talk to her. Calm down, Renee.” Quincy sighed.

With another hiss, she left the room for the bathroom.

Quincy sat in her bed, hoping to lay down, but when he sighted the panty she took off before leaving, he paused. The green lace lay in the middle of her bed, calling him.

He took it and tossed it into her small laundry basket, but he brought his hand to his nose to smell.

He inhaled the intimate scent, revelling in it till his phone dinged.

He woke from his fantasy and checked the phone.

A text from Renee.

She took her phone to bath?

• Get my hairwash, please. Didn’t wash my hair in the morning. I should wash it now.

He took the hairwash from her vanity and left the room, strolling down the silent hallway alone.

Their tier mates must be outside.

He opened the bathroom door and pointed the bottle inside through the middle without looking inside.

His hand became empty when Renee took it, and he made to leave.

“Can you check something for me? Come on,” Renee said.

He hesitated to open the door, but Renee did it herself, opening the door completely wide for him despite her wet, fairly lathered nakedness.

Quincy stepped in, and the door closed behind them quickly.

“Look.” She lifted her right boob for him. A little redness spread on the boob skin. “I think my underboob is sore. You think it’s my bra doing?”

Quincy leaned in, not thinking.

He stopped thinking the moment
he entered this bathroom anyways. He touched the soreness under the boob with his finger, tracing it.

“What do you think?” She asked, turning the shower off. “Mum always told me to get soft bras, I’m too stubborn. Now look at this.”

Quincy looked up at her, and he hit the shower by himself, letting it on again. He was bent against her body, so Renee was looking down at him.

“You want big brother to suck off the soreness?”

“Why are you even asking.” she scoffed, pushing her hard nipple against his mouth.

He opened up, taking it inside.

“Ohh…Big Brother….” Renee rested on the wall, biting her lip deep.

The shower sounds swallowed her moans as her nipples got chewed.

—