They were on a narrow mountain road, heavy snow falling in sideways sheets across the headlights. Krog was behind the wheel, hands at ten and two, and Ferret was in the back, grunting as he thrusted into their hostage. Christmas music whispered from the speakers and the green glow of the dash panel lent Krog's sharp features a corpsy cast. He took a drag from a cigarette and glanced in the rearview mirror. "You keep this up your dick's gonna fall off."

In response, the girl screamed against the gag in her mouth.

They took her from the parking lot of a ski lodge in Lake Tahoe that morning. They were parked across the street at a gas station when Krog spotted her. Fourteen, maybe fifteen, she was blonde and had an air of haughtiness about her, like she thought she was better than him.

We'll see about that, bitch.

Twelve hours later, she was bruised, bloodied, and naked, her hands bound behind her back with a zip tie and her own panties shoved into her mouth to silence her cries; they grave Krog a fucking headache.

In the half day they'd had her, Ferret, Krog's manchild sidekick, had raped her a good dozen times. The last Krog knew, he was fucking her snooty little asshole and punching her in the side to make her walls tighten around him. That was a trick Krog had taught him. It made rape feel extra good.

From Lake Tahoe, they went west into California, keeping on the move as they always had. When they were finished with the girl, they'd leave her body on the side of the road like garbage, the same as they had with all the others. In the three weeks since they left Philadelphia, they had killed four girls and a gas station attendant who wanted to play hero. Krog didn't like heroes. He liked people who did what he said, when he said.

People like Ferret.

He and Ferret had met while they were in prison together. Over many long nights in their cell, they spun grand plans of rape, tortture, and murder. Ferret was slow in the head which made him easy to control. He was also a pedophile and dangling the promise of a cute little girl in front of him was like shaking a box of Scooby Snacks in front of Scooby-Doo.

Krog took another drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke out in a bluish plume; it dispersed and hung heavy in the air. The snow was coming down so hard and fast that he couldn't see beyond the reach of the van's headlights. He didn't know the road had curved until the van was rolling down the embankment. The front end slammed into a tree trunk and the seatbelt pulled tight across his chest. Ferret screeched in pain and the girl screamed against her gag. "Shut the fuck up," Krog spat. "Both of you."

He threw the van into reverse and tried to back up, but the embankment and the snow were both too deep; the tires spun and the engine roared, but nothing happened. "Shit," he hissed. He threw open the door and jumped out, the snow reaching nearly to the tops of his boots.

This was not good.

He picked his way along the side of the van and looked up the hill to the roadway.

They were stuck.

Sighing in frustration, he went back to the door and climbed in. "Get your coat and boots on," he said, "we're on foot now."

"But, Krog -"

"Just do it."

"What about her?" Ferret nodded to the nude girl who lay on her stomach sobbing. Reaching into the glove box, Krog took out a straight razor, slipped between the bucket seats, and knelt over her. He grabbed a handful of her hair, wrenched her head back, and dragged the blade across her throat. Hot blood gushed over the back of Krog's hand and the girl started to scream and shake. He slammed her face into the floor and looked at Ferret. "There. Now hurry up."

Ferret sighed.

After putting on his boots and coat, Ferret opened the back doors and climbed out. Krog slipped a .38 revolver into the waistband of his jeans and covered it with his coat, then pulled a black watch cap low over his face. The raw wind sapped the heat from his face and made him numb. He slammed the door and stopped.

The storm had fallen just enough for him to see a light twinkling through the trees, maybe five hundred feet up a gentle slope. "That way," he said.

That way was shelter.

And, if he was lucky, more people to hurt.

Gloom Daniels poured two mugs of hot cocoa and added marshmallows. Outside the window over the sink, fat flakes of snow swirled in the wind and added to the eight inches already on the ground. Trees loomed out of the darkness like giants in a child's fairytale and every so often, the wind would moan in the eaves. The storm had been raging for hours and the weatherman on the radio said it wouldn't let up until morning. A few hours ago, the power went out and Lyle built a fire in the hearth. The flames presently crackled and popped, low firelight bathing the rustic timber walls in a rusty glow. Away from the living room, the cold of the night seeped in from without, but it was okay, Gloom was in her fuzzy socks and sweater. Those could withstand anything.

It was December 18 and Gloom and her boyfriend Lyle were staying at a remote cabin high in the Sierra Nevadas. They had been here for three days, skiing, hiking, and canoodling by the fire. Gloom had never been happier; having Lyle all to herself, away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, was a dream come true, and she didn't want it to end.

Cups in hand, she went back into the living room. Lyle sat on the sofa in jeans and a turtleneck, his long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She sat his mug on the coffee table in front of him and settled in beside him, drawing her legs under her. She held her mug to her lips and blew away a curl of steam. Lyle picked up his own cup and took a sip. "It's hot," he said.

"Just like you," she said.

Lyle grinned. "Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear."

"I hope so," Gloom said.

He sat his mug aside and cupped the side of her face in his hand. He brushed his thumb along the ridge of her cheekbone. She smiled and leaned into his touch like a cat, and a boyish simper spread across Lyle's face. "I have something I want to ask you," he said.

"What?" Gloom asked.

He shifted off the couch and onto his knee. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a tiny black box and opened it. Understanding dawned on Gloom and her hands went to her mouth. "Will you marry me?" Lyle asked.

Tears of happiness welled in Gloom's eyes and she nodded. "Yes," she said in a breathless whisper. She pulled him into a tight embrace and held him close.

Just then, a knock came at the door, startling them. They both turned their heads and Lyle arched his brow. "Who could that be? It's a blizzard out there."

The knock came again. Gloom released him and he padded to the door on bare feet while she sipped her cocoa. He undid the latch and opened the door. A cold gust of wind swept through the cabin and made the flames dance and flicker. A dark shadow stood on the step, its outline big and bulky. "Thank God," a man's voice said. "Our van broke down a few miles back and we're freezing to death out here."

"Come in," Lyle said and quickly stepped aside.

Two men entered. The first, the one who had spoken, was tall and bundled up in a heavy winter coat and a watch cap. His features were jagged as knife blades and his eyes were black and beady. The second was shorter and beefier with grayish stubble across his chin and upper lip. Lyle closed the door and the men came into the living room, their boots clunking on the floor and leaving trails of snow. The first man stripped off his coat and hat and tossed them aside, then stood in front of the fire and rubbed his hands. "It's snowing cats and dogs out there," he said.

The second man took off his coat and hat and perched himself on the edge of the armchair facing the fire.

For some reason she couldn't name, Gloom had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"I'm John Krog," the first man said, "this is my cousin Ferret. I call him that because he looks like a rodent."

"I'm Lyle," Lyle said, coming into the living room. "And this is Gloom."

In the corner of her eye, Gloom noticed that Ferret was watching her. From the tilt of his eye and the trajectory of his eyes, he was staring at her breasts.

She crossed her arms.

"We're really lucky to have stumbled across this place," Krog was saying. "I thought Ferret was gonna turn into a fagcicle." He chuckled. "You guys on vacation?"

"Yeah," Lyle said and sat next to Gloom. "We wanted to get away from it all for a while."

"This is the place," Krog said and looked around. "Real secluded. I didn't see anyone else for miles. Then again, I didn't see much of anything in that snow."

Ferret was openly gaping at her breasts now, and Gloom shot him a dirty look.

He only grinned.

"Either one of you have a cellphone?" Krog asked.

Lyle reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and handed it to Krog. The man nodded, took it, and turned it over in his hands. "Smart phone," he said with a nod, "nice." Looking Lyle in the eye, he tossed it into the fire and smiled. "Whoops."

It took Gloom a second to process what had just happened.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Lyle asked.

Something moved in Gloom's periphery and she turned just as Ferret crashed into her. She screamed and fell against Lyle. Lyle jumped to his feet and instinctively began to pummell Ferret in the back of his head. In a flash, Krog closed his forearm around Lyle's neck and wrenched him back, Lyle's feet leaving the floor. "Uh uh uh," Krog said firmly. "It isn't nice to hit your guests."

Lyle rammed his elbow back into Krog's stomach, breaking his hold. He spun around and threw a punch, but Krog ducked it and hit Lyle with an uppercut to the stomach. Lyle crumpled and fell to his knees. Krog grabbed the back of Lyle's head in both hands and rammed his knee into Lyle's face. Lyle's nose burst like a tomato and his teeth shattered, cutting through his lips and tumbling down the back of his throat.

Giggling, Ferret wrapped his hands around Gloom's throat and squeezed. Gloom's eyes bulged from their sockets and her little heart pounded in terror. She thrashed beneath her attacker and tore at his face with her nails, ripping crimson streaks across his cheeks. He squeezed harder and gritted his teeth, panting obscenely. She tried to jam her thumbnail into his eye, but he responded by punching her in the side of the head. Dazzling white light burst in her skull and suddenly she was on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. Ferret knelt on the back of her neck and giggled. "Look, Krog, George Floyd!"

Krog knelt behind Lyle, wrapped his arm around Lyle's neck, and kissed the side of his face. "You're a real charmer," he said. "You're taking her breath away."

Gloom tried to get out from under him and he rocked the back of her head with a series of stunning blows. She went limp and verged on unconciousness. Ferret let up and pulled down her pants. "Black panties," Ferret said and licked his lips.

"You know what that means," Krog said. "She's a slut."

Ferret hooked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear and yanked them down. The air was cool on her skin, alien. Tears filled her eyes and she began to cry. "Let her go," Lyle said, his voice strangled. "Please don't hurt her."

"Fuck you," Krog said. He took Lyle's earlobe between his teeth and bit down as hard as he could. Lyle screeched in pain as Krog pulled back, ripping a chunk of the ear away. It held on by lengths of tendon and mangled skin. Blood stained Krog's lips and the firelight glinted in his dark eyes. "We're gonna hurt her all we want."

Ferret pulled Gloom's pants and underwear over her ankles and tossed them away. He spread Gloom's butt cheeks with his hands and Gloom cried harder. She was powerless to stop him. Her only hope was Lyle.

Leaning in, Ferret sniffed her slit and made a nasty moaning sound. "I sure do love the smell of girl," he said. She felt his finger on her rectrum and her heart sputtered. She started to cry out, to beg, but he plunged his finger deep into her and she let out a skull cracking wail. Ferret's jagged nail slashed and tore at her walls, then he added another, spreading her to the point of bursting. She screamed into the carpet and held chunks of it in her hand. Lyle, crying now too, looked away, but Krog forced him to watch. "Watch and learn, you little faggot."

Ferret pulled his finger out and stuck it into his mouth. He swirled it around and made a lewd slurping sound. Krog picked up Gloom's panties from the floor and gave them a quick whiff before rubbing them in Lyle's face. "Doesn't her pussy smell nice?"

"It smells real good," Ferrer said and began to fumble at his belt. His erection made a tent in the front of his pants; how he could be hard again after molesting that little girl nine times in a row, Krog would never know.

Pulling his pants down, Ferret grabbed Gloom's hair and pulled hard as he thrusted into her butt. The most exquisite pain Gloom had ever known broke over her and she howled until her vocal cords feel like they were going to rip. Ferret's rank breath tickled the side of her throat and his chapped lips tasted her skin, making her shiver. He thrusted as hard as he could and she almost passed out again.

Pulling out, Ferret rolled her onto her stomach. Krog tossed him a straight razor and he proceeded to cut off her sweater and bra. Now she was entirely naked save for her socks. Ferret pushed her feet behind her ears and started to pound her pussy. Her leg muscles caught fire and something popped, making her scream. His head battered her limit and every thrust made her feel like she was going to break in half. Lyle closed his eyes but Krog watched with a hazy smile.

"How does it feel watching him fuck your girlfriend?" Krog asked Lyle. Blood gushed from Lyle's ruined ear and stained his long, silky hair an ominous shade of crimson. "How does it feel knowing you can't protect her?"

Lyle turned his head away and squeezed his eyes closed. "You're not a man at all," Krog said. "If you were, you wouldn't let us rape her like this."

He shoved Lyle aside, got up, and kicked him in the back of the head, knocking him out. "Alright," Krog said, "my turn."

"But, Krog -"

Krog grabbed Ferret by the back of his neck and pulled the dullard's face to his. "I said it's my turn."

"Okay, okay," Ferret relented.

"Guard him," Krog said and nodded to Lyle.

Bending over, Krog grabbed Gloom by her hair and forced her to her knees. Fat tears rolled down her freckled cheeks and splotchy mascara stained her eyes. She bowed her head in shame and covered her middle with her hands. Krog took a revolver from his waistband and sat it on the coffee table. Next, he unzipped his fly and pulled out his dick. He forced her to look up at him and smiled brightly at the pain and terror in her eyes. "Suck it," he said.

She cried harder.

Krog held his dick to her mouth and she whipped her head away. Flashing, he punched the side of her head. "Suck it," he said again.

This time, Gloom dutifully opened her mouth. Krog thrusted his hips, and the tip of his dick slammed into the back of her throat. She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to hold back her tears. She moved her head listlessly back and forth, the putrid taste of his rape heavy on her tongue. Krog ran his fingers through her hair, pulled as hard as he could, and started to fuck her throat. Gloom gagged and retched but didn't dare stop him from taking what he wanted. Ferret watched with an idiot grin and a glazed look in his eyes. He licked his lips at the way Gloom's breasts bounced with every jerk of Krog's hips, and Krog made it a point to be as rough as possible. Even in her state of fear and humiliation, Gloom got the sense that for Krog, it was less about pleasure or even power and more about the dumb, simple act of hurting her.

It occurred to her to bite down on his dick, to rip and rend and tear it from his body, but she was too afraid of what would happen to her and especially to Lyle if she did that, so she let him pound her mouth, crying all the while. "This is how you do it, Ferret," Krog said over his shoulder.

"What if she scrapes your pee pee?"

"Then you knock all her fucking teeth out. Problem solved."

Ferret giggled madly.

"How do you like it, you little bitch?" Krog asked. He pulled out and she coughed, ribbons of saliva and his offensive precum dripping down her chin. "How do I taste?"

Looking down at her lap, Gloom sniffed. "Good," she said in a broken whisper.

"Turn around."

Gloom swallowed, already knowing on some level what was going to happen next. Even so, she turned on her knees. Krog pushed her face into the couch, squatted over her, and twisted her arm savagely behind her back. Pain shot into her shoulder and she let out a high, sharp scream. Holding her head down, Krog thrusted into her, and a bomb blast of agony detonated in the center of her head. Ferret wasn't very big, but Krog was; his dick pushed her pelvis apart and prodded her cervix. He pulled back and slammed forward again, and the air left her lungs in a rush. The pain was so great that she couldn't speak, couldn't cry, couldn't even think. Her lungs refused to work and her entire body clammed up.

Krog jerked back and forth, piercing her womb like the blade of a dagger. Every time she gasped or sobbed, he would punch her in the side of the head. Finally, dizzy and defeated, she bit down on her bottom lip to stop the screams. Krog pressed his cheek to hers and the rotten stench of his breath filled her nose. "Tell me you love it."

"I-I l-love it," Gloom said.

He brought his hand down across her ass with a meaty slapping sound. She hissed through her teeth. Not satisfied with that, he balled his hand and crashed it into her side. Her body clenched painfully around his and a cry ripped from her throat.

Finally, at long last, Krog pulled out. Pulsating pangs of agony coursed through her and she felt the warm stickiness of blood coating the backs of her thighs. She tried to catch her breath but she didn't have long; Krog shoved her to the floor and mounted her, his legs caging her hips. He held out his hand and wiggled his fingers at Ferret. Ferret cocked his head. "Gimme my knife," Krog commanded.

Ferret stepped forward and handed Krog the straight razor.

Krog held his dick in his hand and stroked it as he brushed the blade over her body. He scraped each nipple with it and grazed it through the valley between her breasts. She sobbed so hard that her shoulders shook. Krog grinned feverishly and swiped the blade across her chest. She screamed. He stroked himself faster and swiped the blade again, this time leaving a clean, bloody cut across her left breast. She hitched and tossed her head. "Please stop," she sobbed. "Please."

Ferret watched, biting his bottom lip.

Krog slashed the razor down the side of her face, over her stomach, He slid it down the tip of her nose and over her lips. Hot, coppery blood filled her mouth and mixed with her tears. Krog was panting like an animal now, jacking himself faster and faster. When she felt the cold steel of the knife dip between her sensitive folds, her heart leapt into her throat and a shiver raced up her spine. He flicked his wrist, and the razor cut painfully into her labia, making her jump. He swiped the blade along her inner thigh. Gloom threw her head back and screamed at the top of her lungs. Panting heavily, he pressed the blade to her throat, a mad smile spreading across his lips.

This was it, Gloom thought. He was going to cut her jugular and she was going to die.

Ferret licked his lips again. He was so enrapt in the scene before him that he didn't notice Lyle staggering to his feet, didn't see him grabbing an iron fire poker from hearth.

Just as Krog finished, spraying Gloom's face and chest with his burning seed, Lyle brought the poker down on Ferret's head with all his might. A loud, sickening thunk sounded and Ferret dropped to the floor, gushing blood. Krog turned in time for the poker to hit him in the cheek. He fell against the couch and Lyle lunged at him. Krog rolled, got to his feet, and came at Lyle with a scream. Lyle swung the poker but Krog grabbed it and ripped it from his grasp, throwing it away. He grabbed Lyle and threw him to the ground.

Sobbing and shaking, Gloom pushed herself up on weak arms and looked around.

Krog punched Lyle in the face once, twice, three times. Lyle fell limp against the wall and Krog got on top of him, hands closing around his throat.

Gloom's eyes fell on the gun.

Reaching out, she picked it up.

Krog throttled Lyle, cussing through his teeth and spraying spittle. He punched Lyle one more time and then stopped when Gloom's voice rang out.

He turned and she was pointing the gun at him with both hands. Blood oozed from her many wounds and dark bruises had begun to form on her face. She looked like a light breeze would knock her over, and Krog laughed. "You won't do it."

He turned back to Lyle just as Gloom pulled the trigger. The bullet hit him in the back of the skull and exited his forehead, spraying blood and brain matter across Lyle's face. Krog's eyes widened and then he fell on top of Lyle.

Gloom dropped the gun, fell to her knees, and wept.

Pushing the dead man off of him, Lyle crawled across the room and took his girlfriend in his arms. She broke down and nuzzled against him for protection.

He held her tight and didn't let go until long after the sun rose.