It's cold here in the bedroom but Michael doesn't shiver. He doesn't move an inch or scream at all anymore when it happens. Just lies naked and prone and takes what's coming. He counts the shadows moving along the wall until his mind blanks. The pain becomes familiar sometimes. And sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes they'll flip him over and make him experience a new one. He hates them. Hates them all. His sister, her boyfriend, the whole babysitting group that passes him around like an old toy. Dan's hand slides up his throat.
"You like that you little cunt?" He growls pressing into him harder.
Michael's eyes glaze and he knows it's time for him to leave this room. To step into his fantasy. In his fantasy, he's bigger than all of them, and he's in control. Its his shadow that follows them and lurks in the darkness waiting to pounce. His hand inflicting the pain while they cry. Only babies cry. And he doesn't cry. Not anymore. His body's completely numb now and all he can hear is Dan panting in his ear and he knows it will be over with soon. For now.
"Fuck," Dan gasps running a hand up his side. "Just wait until Murphy gets a piece of you," he huffs laughing. "Our own little pin-up baby." He grips his chin fiercely shaking his brain around. "If your parents knew what a little whore you are in your batman undies." He laughs hand snaking between his legs squeezing.
He pretends the warmth that splatters against him before Dan rolls off is blood. Its blood because Michael's killed him. Slashed away and stabbed at him until he's as cold and numb as he is.
Dan pushes off the bed and cracks his back stretching. "See you Monday, kid," he says and it's a promise. He scoops Michael's underwear up from the floor on his way to the door and presses it against his nose breathing. "A souvenir," he mumbles stumbling out the door.
Michael lays there a while longer. Minutes, hours, before he can force his sore body under the sheet. Someday, he promises rolling to his side and hunching under the cover. He blinks at the dull face looking back from the full length mirror hanging on the wall. Someday he'll be a bigger force than all of them and he'll make them pay. He'll make all the babysitters pay.
Michael always new his sister hated him, and when her boyfriend had pinned him to the couch and put his hand between his legs and she laughed, he knew for sure.
"You're such a horndog," she giggled rolling her eyes.
"I was just thinking Michael here probably feels really left out." He'd laughed pressing against his crotch.
Michael squirmed. "Judith," he pleaded.
But Dan was looking at her questioning and
she'd leaned forward and kissed him.
"You really want to touch him, don't you?" she whispered and he shrugged.
She stepped back nodding and he'd grinned triumphant.
"Hear that, Michael? You get to play too."
"I dont want to play," he wailed as Dan pulled his pants down. His hands were warm and harsh when he squeezed him again.
His sister had laughed and told him not to be such a snivly cry baby and then she touched him too. Right there between his legs, and it hurt.
"Don't tell anyone," she said to Dan giggling.
"Are you kidding? I think they'd like a chance at it, don't you?"
She looked at him with lust in her eyes and leaned over Michael to kiss him. "Maybe." Then she worried her lip. "He might tell."
"Oh," he murmered reaching for his belt buckle. "He's not gonna tell anyone. Not if I bend him over this couch and tan his hide first."
"Mmm," she moaned leaning back to twirl her hair. "You're so sexy when you take control."
He breathed a chuckle roughly grabbing Michael by the wrists flipping him over to his tummy. "Not a word," he hissed in his ear before wielding the leather belt high above his bottom and striking.
He cried out against the rough couch cushion.
"Hush, Michael. You want to wake the whole neighborhood," Judith hissed in his ear before striking his bottom with her bare hand. The sound echoed in the still room causing him to cry all the more.
"I say we spank the little rugrat until he learns to be quite."
"Agreed," she huffed putting an arm across his back holding him against the cushion. She raised her hand striking his bottom again and again while Dan spanked up the backs of his legs.
Michael never forgot that spanking. Never got over being pinned to the couch while his sister laughed. Never got over the shame and humiliation of having to hobble up the stairs to bed after. Privates tender and bottom sore.
Judith sighs irritably waiting for Dan to finish with Michael upstairs.
"You know," she says as he hops over the banister. "It'd be nice not to have to wait for you."
He spreads his arms. "Sorry, babe. You know I like an appetizer before the main course." He grins wraggling his brows and she forgives him.
"Michael!" she hollers.
He creeps slowly down the stairs clinging to the banister.
"Get out," she says. "Go trick or treating or whatever. I dont want you here listening to us like some creep."
"I don't have my mask," he murmurs at a loss.
"I don't care," she snaps. "Get out!" She gives him a shove torwards the door.
He tumbles down the porch steps into the cool night and sits on his knees in the grass listening to his sister giggle as they head upstairs.
He blinks at his fists clenching the grass surprised to find them shaking. He's always been too afraid to feel angry but something is beginning to snap loose. He doesn't know how long he sits there letting the angry waves crash inside his skull until it forces him to stand. Turning slowly towards the house he hears heavy feet on the stairs, the front door closing, and the anger burns and bubbles until it breaks something loose in him and he finds himself mounting the steps.
In the kitchen he doesn't hesitate to pull the drawer with the knives open. Doesn't even have to look to pull one out. It's like something's drawing him up the stairs.
His mask still lay on the bedroom floor by the discarded clothes, bulbous nose standing erect, he lifts it up and continues on his way where his sister sits naked brushing her hair. He's never seen her naked before. But he's glad she is. Glad she'll die bare for all to see.
"Michael," she huffs before he raises the knife.
And he's big enough.
