Wicked games, p.1
Wicked Games, page 1
Wicked Games
Izzy Ravas
Wicked Games
Copyright © 2024 by Izzy Ravas
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, with the exception of a brief summary or quote for book review purposes. For permission requests, contact izzyravas@gmail.com
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Book Cover by Izzy Ravas
First Edition 2024
Blurbs
Marlowe:
A family camping trip to bring us closer together before I leave for college. I never thought that camping in the Louisiana woods would end in the slaughter of my family and me, now held captive by psychotic twin murderers.
What do they want from me?
(This is an erotic horror novella. As always, check your TW as your mental health matters.)
Dedication
To the all the slasher fanatics who fall in love with the killer. Better lace up your shoes, grab a weapon, and for the love of God, don't scream.
Wilder and Ollie are coming.
Author's Note
This is an erotic horror novella and the author in no way condones the behaviors of the MMC's in this book.
Graphic murder, drowning, death of a minor, death of parents, body dismemberment, blood and knife play, non-consent, primal play, virgin FMC, dp, rough anal sex, unprotected sex and breeding, masked men, sexual assault, kidnapping, impact play (very mild), forced oral sex, stockholm syndrome, marking/cutting, degradation and a little praise.
Epilogue includes: mention of pregnancy and children.
Playlist
"Drowning" – Atreyu
"Call Me" – Shinedown
"Right in Two" – Alter-Vio Luciano Paven
"Damn, This Hurts" – Grimzlee
"Seek and Destroy" – Apocalyptica
"Running" – deer death
"Wicked Games" – Ramin Djawadi
"Leave Me (Feat. deer death)"- Grimzlee
"You'll Lose a Good Thing" – Barbara Lynn
"Oh! Baby (We Got a Good Thing Goin')" – Barbara Lynn
"Rainin' in My Heart" – Slim Harpo
"La Danse De Mardi Gras" – The Balfa Brothers & Dewey Balfa
"Jolie blonde du Bayou" – Dewey Balfa, Marc Savoy & D.L Menard
"No One" – Cold
"Passive" – A Perfect Circle
"Victim" – memyself&vi
"Sea of Love" – Cat Power
Contents
1. Marlowe
2. Wilder
3. Ollie
4. Marlowe
5. Ollie
6. Ollie
7. Marlowe
8. Wilder
9. Ollie
10. Marlowe
11. Wilder
12. Ollie
13. Marlowe
14. Ollie
15. Wilder
Epilogue
Thank You, Reader!
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also by Izzy Ravas
Chapter 1
Marlowe
I’m already over this fucking family camping trip and it hasn’t even begun yet. Ethan snores next to me in the backseat of my parents’ Explorer, his head lolling from side to side. Every so often, his head bounces off my shoulder and he startles himself awake.
“Are we almost there?” I whine. There is nothing more that gets on my stepmom’s nerves than my whining.
“Marlowe,” my father interjects. “Watch your attitude! We’re only going to be gone for four days.”
“Why did you have to choose camping?” I ask.
My stepmother sighs, loud and drawn out. “I know you’re not thrilled about this camping trip, Marlowe,” she says, her voice tinged with irritation. “But it’s important for us to spend quality time together as a family. Plus, it’s a chance to disconnect from technology and enjoy nature.”
I roll my eyes and slump further into my seat. Disconnecting from technology sounds like torture to me. I glance out the window, watching the trees blur by as we drive deeper into the wilderness. The thought of spending four days in a tent, surrounded by bugs and without Wi-Fi, makes me want to scream.
Ethan, my younger brother, wakes up again, rubbing his eyes and complaining about being bored. I resist the urge to shove him back to sleep. My step-mother shoots me a warning glance, reminding me to keep my patience in check.
As the car jostles along the bumpy road, I can’t help but wonder why we couldn’t have chosen a more exciting vacation. I mean, who goes camping when you could be lying on a tropical beach in Hawaii? The sound of my stepmother’s exaggerated sigh only adds to my frustration.
I try to distract myself by imagining what I could be doing at home instead. I could catch up on my favorite TV shows or spend time with my friends before heading to college. Anything would be better than being stuck in the middle of nowhere with my family.
But as I steal a glance at my father’s content expression in the rearview mirror, I realize that maybe this trip means more to him than I realize. The destination is not the only thing that matters; the journey and memories are equally significant. There might be something valuable in this family camping trip, after all.
I take a deep breath and decide to make the best of it. Who knows, maybe I’ll even discover a newfound appreciation for nature. As we continue driving through the wilderness, I try to shift my perspective. Maybe disconnecting from technology won’t be so bad after all. It could be a chance to escape the constant notifications and distractions and truly immerse myself in the beauty of nature. The thought of breathing in fresh air and feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin starts to appeal to me.
I glance at Ethan, still half-asleep in the seat next to me, and realize that this trip could also be an opportunity to bond with him. Despite his annoying habits, he’s still my brother, and maybe spending this time together will strengthen our relationship. I make a mental note to find activities we can enjoy as siblings, like hiking or playing card games by the campfire.
My stepmother’s voice interrupts my thoughts, as she excitedly points out a picturesque lake through the window. I can’t deny the beauty of the scenery unfolding before me. The towering trees, the vibrant colors of the wildflowers, and the peacefulness of the surroundings captivate me. Maybe I can find solace in nature and appreciate its wonders.
Arriving at the campsite, I pause to appreciate the peaceful surroundings. The sound of birds chirping and the gentle rustling of leaves instantly calm my restless mind. I help set up the tents with my family, realizing that teamwork and cooperation are essential for a successful camping experience.
As the evening approaches, we gather around the campfire, dad roasts marshmallows and shares stories of his camping trips with Nana and Pop Pop. Laughter fills the air, replacing the initial tension and frustration. I find myself genuinely enjoying the company of my family, their smiles and laughter bringing warmth to my heart.
“Are you excited about college?” Ethan asks as he deals the cards between us.
“Yeah, I am actually. It will be nice being somewhere new, you know?” I pick up the cards he dealt me, putting them in order.
“Hold that thought. I have to take a piss. Don’t peek at my cards,” he eyes me, motioning with his finger to his eyes as if to say he’s watching me.
I roll my eyes and a smile plays across my face. Ethan disappears off into the trees. I can’t help but chuckle at his playful nature. He is so much like our mom, and he doesn’t even know it. Moments like these make me miss her so much. When Dad finally started dating, he brought home Diane. She clarified things would be changing, introducing herself as our new mom. I have hated her since.
No one would ever take our mama’s place. Even if it was someone I liked for my dad. But Diane just wasn’t it.
The campfire crackles and pops, casting a warm glow on our faces. Dad is asleep in his fold-out chair and Diane has her romance paperback. The scent of toasted marshmallows fills the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the surrounding woods. Ethan rejoins us and his mischievous grin tells me he’s up to something. He plops back down next to me, arranging his cards. I can see he’s been strategizing during his absence with a glance. I chuckle, knowing that he’s always trying to gain an advantage.
We continue playing our card game, the friendly competition adding an element of excitement to the evening. The sound of laughter and playful banter fills the air, creating a harmonious atmosphere that erases any lingering tension or frustration from earlier.
Ethan lays down his last hand, winning again.
“I’m thinking you’re cheating me, booger.” His eyes narrow at me for calling him booger.
“You’re just a sore loser.”
As the night sky blankets us with its shimmering stars, I can’t help but feel a sense of gratitude. Grateful for this tranquil moment, the surrounding natural beauty, and the love and laughter with my brother.
We retreat to our tents, Dad and Diane sharing one, and Ethan and I have our single-person tents. The soothing sounds of the forest promise to lull us into a peaceful slumber. I close my eyes, feeling content. It wasn’t so bad today.
I wake up the next morning to the sound of birds sin
The aroma of sizzling bacon and brewing coffee fills the air as we cook breakfast over the campfire. We chat and laugh, enjoying each other’s company without the usual sibling bickering. The tension that used to hang between us seems to have dissipated, replaced by a newfound understanding and appreciation.
After breakfast, we decide to go on a hike. Surrounded by the beauty of nature, we walk side by side, sharing stories and observations. In front of a small waterfall, we stand in awe of its power. “Holy shit, Lowe! This is crazy! How deep do you think it is down there?”
“I couldn’t even guess,” I reply as I look over the ledge at the small circle of water below.
It’s in moments like this I am glad that my dad forced me to come on this trip. I wouldn’t get to experience a waterfall from in front of my TV or computer screen, that’s for sure. We continue our hike, marveling at the wonders of nature that surround us. The sound of rushing water, chirping birds, and rustling leaves creates a symphony of tranquility.
As we navigate through the rugged terrain, we encounter various wildlife, from squirrels scurrying up trees to deer leaping across our path. Ethan’s eyes light up with excitement as he points out each creature, his knowledge of the wilderness shining through.
We reach a clearing that offers a panoramic view of the vast landscape. The mountains stretch out in the distance, their peaks piercing the clear blue sky. It’s a sight that takes my breath away.
“I’m glad that you came, Lowe. I’m gonna miss you. And don’t you dare tell anyone I said that, got it?” He doesn’t look at me but I know he feels a little sad that I will be leaving.
“Don’t worry, booger. Your secret is safe with me.”
Lost in the moment, we sit on a rock and embrace the experience. The silence between us is comfortable, no longer filled with strained conversations or petty arguments.
“Hurry, let’s go back before Diane gets angry.”
“Are you sure about going back then?” His smirk makes me smile.
Back at the campsite, we spend the afternoon playing more card games, taking turns winning and losing. As the sun sets, we gather around the campfire once again. The crackling flames and dancing shadows create a cozy ambiance. We roast hot dogs and share about the waterfall we found.
“That sounds like a lot of fun. You and I will have to go find that tomorrow, Sam.” Diane caresses my father’s face.
“Gross,” Ethan and I say in unison.
“One day, you guys will be married and be just as smitten with someone. Just you wait.” Dad laughs, taking Diane’s hand and kissing her palm.
“And with that, I think I am going to bed.” Ethan pretends to heave.
As the night sky fills with stars, Ethan and I retreat to our tents. We lie in our sleeping bags, whispering to each other through the fabric that separates us.
“Hey Lowe,” Ethan says.
“Yeah, booger?” I whisper back.
“Don’t forget me when you move to California and start a new life. You’re the only mom I’ve got.”
Even though I cannot see him, I can hear the raw emotion in his voice. “I will never forget you. Ever. I’ll be back as often as I can. I promise.”
I close my eyes and try to stop the tears from falling.
Chapter 2
Wilder
People are so fuckin’ stupid. Either that or they just don’t give a shit and do whatever they want, anyway. Take, for example, the poor fucker that's lying on my dining room table before me. This piece of shit got in between me getting my cock sucked by the pretty blonde at the gas station. So, my way of saying thanks is to slit his gut from the navel to the sternum.
He whines through his gag as I sit in my Mere’s arms chair, my sharpening stone in one hand and the straight razor in the other. The sound of the blade gliding across the stone brings a strange satisfaction. “Ya can shut da fuck up now, you,” I say, my eyes narrowing on him. “Ain’t no one ‘round for miles, see. Jus me and my brother.”
Ollie’s been gone way too long for him to be finding us something to eat.
“Ya know, I’d hate to spoil my appetite, but you’s got to go,” I say, hoisting myself up from the chair. I approach him, flicking the razor open and closed, in a menacing like gesture. The stench of shit fills the air. I lean over him, a snarl on my face. “Did you shit on my Mere table, you dirty fuckin’ pig?”
The man’s eyes widen as I raise the blade to his face. He shakes his head back and forth, begging me to leave him alone. “Now, how we suppose to eat on this 'ere table now that you gone and shit on it? Huh?” I bring the blade to his bloated stomach, ready to cut into him.
Before I can make my move, the door slams open. “What the fuck you about to do on dat der table?” Ollie stops dead, a decent-sized gator slung over his shoulder. “I know you’s not ‘bout to cut him open where we eat. Come on now Wild,” Ollie suggests, adjusting the gator on his shoulder as he heads towards the kitchen.
“At least take’em down to da cellar. It be easier to clean up down der.”
He’s right. Ollie, despite being the younger twin, is the smarter one. “Alright, I’ll take’em down,” I concede. “What you gonna do with dat der, gator?” I ask, my stomach growling at the thought of food.
“Gator stew, just like Mémé used to make us,” Ollie smirks. He's also a better cook.
“Sounds good. You get on that while I take care of this ‘ere, fucker.” I untie his hands and feet, grabbing him by his ankles and, with a swift tug, pulling him off the table. I drag him across the living space, over to the cellar door. The man claws at the floor, trying his best to gain some traction on the wood floor. “Come on now, you. Stop fightin’ and let’s get dis over with.”
With my foot, I push the cellar door open and start heading down the steps backward, dragging him along. He holds on to the doorframe and tries to keep himself from following. “Got damn you!” I shout, and I give him a hard pull and his body lifts a little. A muffled scream comes from behind the gag, getting louder when I try to pull him again.
“Aw shit, I forgot about da nail pokin’ out da step. Looks like it got you good, though.” I take a moment to assess the situation, realizing that the man’s struggle has caused the nail on the step to become lodged in his eye socket. A twisted part of me finds a sick satisfaction in this.
Reluctantly, I release his legs and maneuver him off of the nail. Blood pools from the wound onto the step. His eye is a mangled mess. Part of it hangs out after pulling him away from the nail. I grasp the hanging bit and pull the eye right out.
The man screams as I chuck the eye over the railing to the cellar floor. “That’ll make da rats happy.” I take a deep breath and decide to abandon my original plan of killing him right away. Instead, I take a step back and assess my options.
“Alright, you lucky fucker,” I mutter, my voice filled with a mix of frustration and annoyance. “You gettin’ off easy dis time.”
I untie his gag, allowing him to speak. He gasps for air, his voice strained. “My … My eye. Please... just let me go. I won’t tell nobody about this. I promise.”
A part of me considers his plea, but the anger and frustration still simmer within me. I can’t let him leave after ruining my plans and disrespecting my Mere’s table.
“No one can know about dis,” I say, my voice cold and determined. “But you not leaving here either.”
A dim light illuminates the small, musty room as we reach the bottom. I find a rusty chain hanging from a hook on the wall and secure it around his wrists. Picking him up, I hoist him up onto the hook. I step back, observing him for a moment, contemplating my next move.
“You gonna stay ‘ere til I decide what ta do wit you,” I state. A coldness to my words makes him whimper. “Consider it a reprieve, but don’ think for a second dat you off da hook.” I chuckle aloud. “Get it? Off da hook, ‘cos you on one.”
