Love in the Closet
Chapter 5: The Love Dungeon
Convincing CB that he wouldn't be hurt was harder than they thought. He just simply didn't trust any of them. And let's be honest—the sight of the Love Dungeon didn't exactly help.
It was Marshmallow's own personal Love Dungeon. Before he'd found Peaches, Cinnamon Buns, Brussel Sprout, and Janitor Johnson, he used to bring girls down here. Their skeletons littered the floor. As Marshmallow lit the oil sconces on the wall, the light rained down on the skeletons and the sight of them made CB cringe.
The dungeon's shadows gave you the feeling that someone or something could be watching you. And you wouldn't even know it.
But something about this ominous basement turned him on. Speaking of bones . . .
He turned away from the grotesque skeletons and looked at the rest of the place. Stacked up against the wall were jars of something.
"What's in that?" he asked Marshmallow cautiously.
"Pickle." He said no more.
"Oh, so you make your own pickles," CB hypothesized.
Marshmallow looked at him, confused. "I think so?"
Then Marshmallow lit another sconce and CB realized that the Pickle jars were the color of flesh and blood. His eyes went wide and he asked no further questions. He hoped that Pickle hadn't been a person. What in the world had he gotten himself into? He desperately wanted to back to the dance and ask Edward about eyebrow plucking techniques.
He looked back toward the door. It was bolted shut.
When he turned back around and the four of them were all staring at him passionately, wanting to make him happy. But was he ready to come out with the cold truth?
Brussel Sprout approached him, placing a hand tenderly on his flabby chest. "It's okay, Cinnamon Buns. You don't need to be afraid. If anyone hurts you because of who you are, we'll take them down." CB could've sworn he'd seen his eyes dart quickly in the direction of the jars, but it must've been the flickering light of the oil sconces.
CB chewed over Brussel Sprout's words for a moment.
He took in a deep, steadying breath.
"I'M GAY!" he yelled into the depths of the dungeon. What a relief it was to get that off of his chest. This burden was no longer his to bear alone. The thought of that almost brought a tear to his little eye. He smiled with his too-small teeth at his friends.
There was a moment of silence before they started cheering and ripping off their clothes.
They weren't sure how much time had passed, but it didn't matter. They kept going at it until the faintest light could be seen out of the barred eastern window.
It was then that Marshmallow spoke up.
"So I was having some fun in the bathroom the other day." The rest of them stopped what they were doing, entranced by what he was about to say. Any conversation that started with 'fun in the bathroom' had to be a good one.
"And I was holding my breath while I had this fun. And it was a lot more fun than normal. We should try that now." He smiled creepily and kinkily.
It was hard to tell if the gleam in his eye was from the rising sun or not.
So that's what they did. They held their breath as they went at it. They were all whooping from the erotic dizziness and they kept diving back in for more again and again and again.
Cinnamon Buns was the first one to go. He was going at it with Marshmallow and when his body had automatically inhaled a big gulp of air, Marshmallow strangled him. But it's not like he would've lasted that long. He was sorely out of shape; he was destined to be the first to go due to natural selection. Marshmallow just helped that little process along.
The others looked over at CB's limp form on the floor. Then they realized what must have happened: Marshmallow had satisfied him so well, that he'd passed out. Soon, everyone had their turn with Marshmallow.
Janitor Johnson was first—age before beauty—and the others were so aroused that they hardly noticed exactly how JJ had lost consciousness. Or, at least they thought he'd only lost consciousness. They were too stupid to realize what it really was.
Peaches was so sheltered that he accidentally strangled himself at the same time that Marshmallow finished "satisfying" Brussel Sprout. Peaches figured that if he cut off his air pipe, less air would go into his lungs, thus making his moment with Marshmallow that more erotic. Too bad he never got his moment with Marshmallow.
And Marshmallow was so into the routine of another person coming to do it with him that he mistook himself for another person. He clenched his own neck with one hand and gave himself a handy j with the other. He realized a moment too late what was happening and he couldn't stop it.
Alas, the biggest group of misfits at Forks High School was gone. Just like that.
A shadow blotted out the light from the eastern window and devious cackling sounded in the crisp autumn morning air. He'd stalked them here after they left the dance. He could run much faster than their car, and he'd followed Marshmallow here before, so he'd known where he was going.
Watching them from the window had been entertaining, but now the fun really began.
He dove into the pile of their dead bodies and had some fun.
Yes. Edward Cullen had a lot of fun that day.