Georgia is ten...... Georgia is ten...... Come with me, play in the den... den.... dennn..
George Rozier, ten-years-old, sat in the dining room, his hands in front him, resting atop the table. His father was pacing back and forth in the kitchen, preparing dinner. This scene had been going on for as long as he can remember, from morning, noon and night. It went on for years, even from the time things were blurry, and things were still full of fantasy (well, it's not as if the fantasy has fully left his mind). George hated these moments despite his father's superb cooking. Well, his father was a chef, so it was a sure thing that what he ate was somewhat high-class. But he hated it all the same. The food was supposed to be something of a tranquilizer, a gift to mellow out the struggling kid, but George wasn't a fool. He never mellowed out because of the food. But that doesn't mean he was able to struggle as hard as he wanted. He might not have softened for the food, but any kid his age would soften because of the rod, aside from those who has got a death wish. 687Please respect copyright.PENANAHoovJYj59S
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George pulled his hands back from the table and scratched his right thigh, pushing the skirt upward a bit.687Please respect copyright.PENANAthREa8DmOg
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"Georgia, dinner's coming real soon. It's special tonight," his father said while coming out of the kitchen and then slowly approaching him. George's hands quickly stopped scratching and scrambled back atop the table. His head also bowed, further than necessary and muffled his moans. His father stood beside him, stretched out his hands and brushed the strands of the wig off George's face. "You've been in this world ten years, Georgia. I thought I'll give you your promotion today, but maybe I'll give you the last chance to enjoy the normal days. Tomorrow, your promotion will come, and my gift to you will be....... change. But tonight, only the food will be special, then the night remains the same. I'll even be extra gentle with you tonight, Georgia." Ten years old, George Rozier has drawn quite a few curse words in him, and thought, You sick fuck. Of course, he dared not speak this to the man beside him, or he would get something worse than the rod. Well, it was still a rod, but a different one. One that has a tip that glows red, and emits a hissing sound whenever it touches something. George was shown this a year ago, but he was never touched by it. He was too smart to do something that might make him its acquaintance, let alone its playmate. 687Please respect copyright.PENANAKdpNoy6Ltg
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George did not reply nor did he move. He remained frozen in his seat. His father watched him a bit more, nodded, then returned to the kitchen. 687Please respect copyright.PENANAYQa8BGw3zj
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George lifted up his gaze a bit and caught a glimpse of his father, standing in the kitchen, half of his face visible but eyes staring at something else, probably waiting for the food to be cooked or something. Then George saw something, something that he kept seeing in his father more and more lately. At first, he thought it was his imagination, but as time went by, he became sure that it was real. Whatever he was seeing was real. 687Please respect copyright.PENANAaRQQnW5vZq
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He was smiling, grinning, and his lips moving quickly, talking to something. 687Please respect copyright.PENANAyoH1Isq61p
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And in his eyes was a pupil fully dark, life a black hole, as if staring at it would make it suck you into nothingness. 687Please respect copyright.PENANAqL4jwuqBuP
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Then his father's "talking" lips suddenly stretched itself wide for a split second at the same time his eyes rolled upwards, and his head shook very quickly. It ended before a full second could be counted, then two seconds later, his father did it again. And again, again.
George shot his hands in front of his mouth, and even though no sound escaped him, George screamed.
*****
When dinner was served, his father's face was back to normal. Somewhat. 687Please respect copyright.PENANAy50pS0jmj7
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He ate all of his food despite his lack of appetite as his father watched him. Then after dinner, his father fixed everything up and washed the dishes while George sat still. His father called out, "Georgia, go the room now. Be ready. I'll be up there soon." George stood up, and as he climbed the stairs, tears were falling down his cheeks.
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George was still crying as the demon continued thrusting, and the demon's hands were covering his mouth, muffling his screams. And at one moment, the demon gasp deeply, stopped his thrusting, then softened afterwards. The demon breathed deeply, stood up and left George crying.
*********
5 minutes later, the demon/father returned and roused him up. "Now be a good girl and take this." George's father didn't really have to say it, because he had been taking the pills for as long as he can remember. One and a half tablet, morning, noon and evening, right after being defiled. The pills sent him to sleep after a few minutes, and the routine created for him his own sense of time. 687Please respect copyright.PENANAC9I0gAXK8P
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A meal. 687Please respect copyright.PENANAS6nZwqs6sI
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The defiling. 687Please respect copyright.PENANAqDWT9XOpjV
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The slumber.
Being woken up. 687Please respect copyright.PENANAyLWdA4zmKA
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A meal. 687Please respect copyright.PENANALXWiuHXi9y
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The defiling. 687Please respect copyright.PENANAUN9dUVoDaE
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The slumber.
George swallowed the pills and washed them down with water, then the demon left. He left his bed and stood in front of the mirror.
A blonde wig over his own hair, a schoolgirl's tops (now open at the middle) matched with a black school skirt, long socks that reached half of his lower leg and a girl's black leather shoes. 687Please respect copyright.PENANACR9Cewvi4m
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"I'm a guy. Why is this happening?"
******
The next day was pretty much the same. But what differed was the one after dinner.
After having dinner, George stood up to return to his room, but his father called him back. "Not tonight Georgia. " George looked back, puzzled. "I told you that you'd be promoted right? That a change would happen?" George's face lit up, thought that things were finally coming to a stop, but then something struck him. He was still not to go back to the room. He wasn't going to sleep. Something else will happen.687Please respect copyright.PENANAOFZCgQ86UI
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George's face returned to being troubled before he even began to feel the full relief. Things weren't done.687Please respect copyright.PENANAYYnHsuZIPd
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His father motioned for him to come closer and handed him the pills. "Take this, my sweet Georgia. And when you wake up. Everything will be so much better. A lot, lot better."
George took the pills and swallowed them.687Please respect copyright.PENANA5ke6I4mhD3
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He was led to the chair beside the table and he was told to sit down. His father stood beside him as his mind travelled between worlds, and when all of his consciousness has drifted away, his father's voice spoke.
"Lilu will take care of you."
And George was gone.
*****
George opened his eyes and awoke in a dark room. The first thing he noticed was the darkness. It was very, very dark. There was nothing to see except the door in front of him. And then he realized that he was tied to a chair, his hands behind his back, his legs tied to each other, his chest tied to the body of the chair. His head itched but it was impossible to scratch. His neck stiffened, and his head moved a bit, as if the movement would remove the itch, but of course, it didn't do a damn thing. He tried to forget about the itch and looked around but saw nothing. The room was very dark, and it seemed to him that his night vision was not improving. Not one bit. He waited a bit more but nothing changed. It seemed as the though the sides of the room was very far from him that he couldn't even grasp even a slight glimpse of the room's size. He sighed deeply and looked down again, realizing that he was wearing a normal boy's outfit. At this, he felt a bit glad. He lifted his gaze up to ceiling, which also didn't show itself, and now George was really afraid. 687Please respect copyright.PENANADZXL2wCuYp
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Then the door made a sound. A lock opening and the door opened a bit.
"Georgia is ten... Georgia is ten.... Come with me and play in the den.... den.... dennn......"
The door opened fully and the light blinded George, forcing him to close his eyes. The song repeated itself. There were footsteps, and they were getting louder. The footsteps stopped, and George knew someone was in front of him. He opened his eyes and his demon/father's face was inches in front of his own. The eyes were almost the same as how George saw them last night. But this time, the black area was larger. The irises and the pupils were void of any other color but pure black. The blackness was eerie, in the way that not light seem to escape them. It was as if the blackness wasn't really its color, but there was no color, because the light can't touch them. 687Please respect copyright.PENANAcbRc0tpb07
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His father's lips were stetched into a wide grin, the bottom lip twitching a bit.
Then his father's breath danced upon his face as the song was sung.
"Georgia is ten... Georgia is ten.... Come with me and play in the denn.... den..... den..."
Then his father's face lifted up, and his father was now standing straight. Then movement from the door caught his eyes.
One....
Two......
Three.....
Four......
Four others entered the room. Two men, two women. Their faces bare, yet George couldn't register their features. He was too afraid to do such thing.
Then they descended upon him.
******
George was screaming, and one of the women whispered to him, voice clear despite being overpowered by his screams.
"SsssillllEEEnce!!"
And George shut his mouth.
*****
After that night, George has partially lost his ablity to retain whatever happened next. Then gradually, he forgot the first days. All because of the pills, and accompanied by the effects if the abuse.
Night after night, he was shared by men and women alike. Different games, different acts, different sizes and different thrusts. He wore different attires and different wigs, different positions and different gigs. All these we know now, yet all these he doesn't remember.
All of these continued for two years.
*****
8:23 pm
A woman stood by the gate of the subdivision, her auburn hair falling beyond her shoulders. The short sleeves of her gray shirt were folded even shorter, her jeans ripped by her knees. She was holding a cigarette on her right hand, and her left was inside the pocket of her jeans. She stood the way a western cowboy would stand under a village's welcome ark. Well, it would look almost the same, because the subdivision had a welcome ark, and she stood directly under it. The guard of the subdivision sat by the guardhouse, frozen. The woman was beautiful, and there was something about her. The rent-a-cop stared at her, and instead of questioning her for the safety of the area, he just watched her stand in her place for a minute, smoking her cigarette, then watched her walk into the place he was supposed to protect.
Ava Walsh didn't stand there for theatrics. She stood there because she listened, she searched, then she felt. At first, she wasn't sure, but after a minute of searching, she was sure. The boy was here. But so was the demon. 687Please respect copyright.PENANAenhUpftQm7
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She took a long drag of her cigarette, tossed it to the direction of the guard (who watched the cigar roll in front of him and also the burning ashes as they faded into nothingness), and entered the residential area.
She found the house, spit on the sidewalk and kicked the door open. She heard a voice exclaim, "What the fuck was that!?", then she followed the voice. She ended up in the dining room, which was the only way to the kitchen, where she assumed was where the voice came from. 687Please respect copyright.PENANAid7d25oLgI
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There was a boy of 12 sitting by the table, his back to her. The moment she saw him, she knew that this was the kid. She nodded to herself, then her gaze shifted to the open doorway that led to the kitchen. The doorway was blocked by a man whose eyes were filled with blackness, and to this, Ava Walsh smiled. "Finally found you, motherfucker. Two birds with one stone." Then the woman drew a suppressed glock from her back, kept in place by the waistband of her pants, and shot the man, but the man was already in motion, and the bullet hit him on his shoulder. Ava ran and entered the kitchen, the glock raised in front of her. Before entering the kitchen, she glanced at the kid, who still remained impassive, eyes locked on the walls, seemingly oblivious of what was happening. 687Please respect copyright.PENANAiwtzJKbLiq
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When she entered the kitchen, the man was on the floor, clutching a knife, and somehow looking different. The eyes looked normal and the man was hysterically rambling. "What the fuck is happening!? Who the hell are you!? What did you do to my son!?" Ava Walsh winced and thought bitterly, Shit. The son of a bitch got away. Then she said, "Lilu or not, the kid can't live with you breathing." She shot the man on the head and he ceased his movements as blood spurted out the hole where the bullet had entered. Ava put the gun back where it was a while ago and returned to the dining room. The kid was still unmoving. She approached the kid and kissed the top of his head. This time, the kid looked up at her and smiled. "Can I be your new mom?" George Rozier nodded.
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That night, Ava Walsh had killed three more people, those who had arrived at the house expecting a sexual ritual that involved the kid. This killing continued for a week, and the bodies were buried in the backyard, and the backyard turned into a graveyard. 687Please respect copyright.PENANA0O7JFrgSIE
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The kid slowly regained normality, but still didn't quite grasp the ability to hold his memories well. And 3 years later, Ava decided that the kid should be where he needs to be, and brought her to the town called Siera.687Please respect copyright.PENANAjZH8FsEc0T
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Their time there had sped up the mental healing process of the boy, but George completely forgot the hell he'd been through, and strangely, he was content to hold on to the new memories he accumulated in the town.