Blood Orgy in the Woods: A Hollows Point Story

  © 2021 Jeff O’Brien

  Cover art by Justin T. Coons

  Sleeve design and illustration by Don Noble

  Ebook designed by Sam Richard

  For Matthew M. Bartlett, an awesome writer and a good fellow.

  This book is a work of fiction.

  Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely bullshit.

  Contents

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  About the Author

  Other Books by Jeff O’Brien

  1

  The night was deathly silent in the small, rural New Hampshire town of Hollows Point. All except for Sarah, cursing and yelling almost incoherently in the office of the Hollows Point motel.

  The arrival of two police officers did nothing to quell her unease.

  “Glad you guys are here,” said a young, strikingly attractive woman sitting next to Sarah. “She’s really shaken up.”

  “Please don’t let them take me!” cried Sarah, clutching the woman closely for comfort.

  “It’s okay, honey,” said the woman. “They’re gonna take you home.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” gasped Sarah.

  “Thanks for coming guys,” said the man behind the desk. “Looks like she busted loose again.”

  The officers looked at each other for a moment, as if puzzled by the motel manager’s words.

  “What’s up, Brad?” said one officer to the other.

  “Nothing, I guess,” the other cop replied. “I’ll tell you later.”

  “Okay then,” began Officer Ted, “I guess we’ll be taking her home now.”

  Before Sarah could voice further protest she was grabbed gently but firmly on each arm by the pair of cops. Silently, she put her head down and allowed herself to be escorted out of the motel.

  “Should we cuff her?” asked Brad as they led her out of the motel office toward their squad car.

  “Nah, Ted,” whispered the other cop, noting the approach of someone walking toward them from the road. They continued their slow escort of Sarah in silence as the approaching man passed by and entered the motel. “Not yet, anyways. She’s not putting up a fight. We’re supposed to look like we’re just doing our jobs. Protecting and serving, right?”

  The motel manager and now two guests were watching on in concern through the window. Best to keep it as peaceful as possible.

  “Please just let me go,” said Sarah. “I haven’t committed a crime. I just need to get out of this place.”

  “Get in,” said Ted as Brad opened the back door. “And don’t think about pulling anything funny. We’re taking you back.”

  “Please…” begged Sarah as she was placed on the hard, unforgiving back seat of the car.

  The door was shut, cutting off her pleas to the outside world.

  The tone of the two police officers predictably changed as they took their seats in front.

  “What are we gonna do with her?” growled Brad, behind the wheel.

  “Bring her back to my brother’s place where she belongs,” said Ted.

  “That’s it?”

  “Well, I do suppose we could have a little fun in the woods first. Not much else going on in town tonight. I think we can engage in a little recreation.”

  “That sounds more like it.”

  Sarah gasped and groaned, feeling all but resigned to her fate. Hollows Point had very little in terms of a police force, and with it being a so-called brotherhood, there were no other authorities she could turn to to protect her from these two.

  “I don’t know how you escaped, Sarah,” began Ted, the brother of her captor who had once been her boyfriend. “But after we’re done with you, we’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again.

  The car backed up and pulled out onto the dark main road of Hollows Point. Sarah stared out through the window, her eyes lost in the endless darkness of the woods that lined the road. Where in those dark woods would they be taking her? And would that darkness be the last thing she’d ever see.

  “Does something feel off to you?” asked Brad.

  “Sort of, actually, now that you mention it,” said Ted. “But what in particular do you mean?”

  “Déjà vu, I think they call it. Like we’ve done this before.”

  “Well, we’ve arrested quite a few maniac girls before. And plenty who were tweaking out at the motel. But yeah, now that you mention it, I got a strange feeling. Like you said, I feel like we’ve done this before. Like I’m remembering what’s gonna happen before it even happens. I started feeling it as soon as we walked into the motel and saw her.”

  “This is your brother’s girl, though. I think we’d know if we arrested her before.”

  While the cops continued pondering their strange predicament, a wave of comfort came over Sarah. She’d been feeling the odd wave of familiarity as well, and as the car drove farther into the darkness, it all started making sense to her, piece by piece.

  She had an advantage this time around. She knew how this night was going to end.

  A momentary blast of euphoria lit up Sarah’s eyes, and in that split second she saw a shadowed form seated next to her. The form vanished as soon as it appeared, revealing none of its finer details. But left in its spot on the seat beside her was a withered old dagger.

  Employing the utmost stealth, Sarah took the dagger and placed it underneath the front of her tank top, inserting the handle between her breasts under the bridge of her bra.

  “You’re awful quiet back there,” said her captor’s brother. “You still awake?”

  Sarah gave no response, only smiling and waiting it out.

  “Pull over, Brad”

  His partner complied with the request and stopped the car on the side of the road under the added darkness of some low hanging branches.

  “How far out are we taking her?” asked Brad. “That burger I got at the diner is starting to descend, if you know what I mean.”

  “Oh, about a hundred yards or so. There’s TP in the trunk and plenty of trees to shit behind.”

  “That’s gross, man.”

  “Then hold it and don’t spoil a good time.”

  “Fine.”

  The cops got out of the car and opened the rear door facing the woods.

  “Come on out,” said Ted. “And don’t try to run.”

  Sarah obliged and stepped out of the car, putting forth no resistance as she was clutched by each arm and dragged forcefully into the woods of Hollows Point.

  “What are you two going to do to me?” she asked, her voice calm and free of fear.

  “Oh, I think you know,” said Ted.

  “She doesn’t sound all that worried anymore. I think she’s starting to like us.”

  “You’ve seen my brother and that friend of his he shares her with. We’re a warm summer day on the beach compared to those two. Probably a refreshing change of pace for her.”

  “Yeah,” began Sarah, “you two ain’t that bad, I guess.”

  “That’s the spirit, honey.”

  “It sure is scary out in these woods at night, though,” added Sarah. “Glad I have two hunks like you to keep me safe.”

  “Oh, you’re definitely safe with us, sweetheart.”

  “Good,” laughed Sarah.

  “Boy, she really is nuts.”

  “Don’t insult her now. She’s under the protection of two esteemed law enforcement officials, you know. Making her feel like shit ain’t gonna help her performance any
.”

  “Okay, I think we’ve come far enough,” said Ted.

  The cops unhanded Sarah, and both began unbuckling their belts.

  Sarah took a step back and sized them up.

  “Don’t just stand there, honey,” said Ted. “Get undressed. I know it’s cold out here, but we’ll warm you up.”

  “Gladly,” laughed Sarah, “and believe me, you certainly will. Now, which one of you wants it first?”

  “She’s my brother’s girl,” said Ted. “That gives me the privilege of first dibs.”

  “Fine,” said the other cop. “I’m gonna go back to the car and get that roll of toilet paper. I might be gone awhile, but try to be done with her by the time get I back, okay? Shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

  “We’ll see,” laughed Ted. “Have a good shit. Wipe front to back.”

  Once Brad was out of sight, the brother of Sarah’s so-called boyfriend approached her.

  “I hope you’re as good as your brother,” said Sarah.

  “Oh, I’m sure I’m far better, sweetheart.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “Now why don’t you start by taking that little shirt off.”

  “Oh, sure.” Sarah clutched the dagger under her tank top and yanked it out, not caring that the blade cut her flesh as she retrieved it.

  “What the fuck…”

  The blade was stuck in Ted’s gut before Sarah’s attack even registered.

  “This is just practice for what I’m gonna do to your partner. Then your brother and that friend of his.”

  Sarah pulled the bloody blade from Ted’s stomach and watched as he collapsed onto his back, clutching his wound.

  “I hope you know I’m not gonna kill you right away,” laughed Sarah, smearing the blood all over herself and flashing him a wide, delightful grin. “I’m gonna take my time. Have some fun. Like you were planning on doing to me.”

  “You’re fucking nuts!” cried Ted.

  “I know.” Sarah peeled her bloody tank top off, balled it up and stuffed it into Ted’s mouth. “Speaking of nuts…”

  Blade pierced scrotum slowly and deliberately while muffled screams were heard nowhere but in Ted’s own head. Round and round the dagger went, until Sarah was satisfied that his manhood was destroyed.

  Sarah looked up at a hooded female form standing by her and her prey. The sight came with no shock or surprise, for she’d seen her since they’d arrived at this very spot, and knew she would be there.

  “Don’t stop now,” said the soft voice of the hooded voyeur. “This is your time to shine.”

  Sarah stripped the uniform from her soon to be dead boyfriend’s brother and made an intricate tapestry of lacerated flesh and blood upon his body, stopping only to get a palm full of warm blood and smear it upon her cold skin that seared and steamed.

  “Very good!” cried the faceless, robed woman

  Sarah stopped as footsteps crackling dead leaves approached. She saw Brad’s glowing pale skin, already stripped naked, being led toward her by four more robed women.

  “Round two, Sarah,” whispered her new friend.

  2

  Candy only enjoyed being a stripper one week a year. That specific week would be the last of October. She could come to work dressed — or undressed — as much like her true goth girl self as she wanted. All week long, the club ran a Halloween theme every night. Aside from the fast and easy cash, this was, perhaps, the only redeeming quality Candy could find there. As much of a scumbag as the owner was, he was overly fond of Halloween. It was the one and only week of the year when Candy was actually happy to please the creepy old fuck.

  Most of the ladies who worked there kept it basic with Playboy Bunny costumes or Naughty Nurse outfits, doing the absolute bare minimum. Others might actually go as far as to don an Elvira dress and wig, just to go along with the owner’s wishes and make it look like they gave half a fuck. But for Candy, it was seven days in which she could practice some genuine self-expression on the job.

  It was the night before Halloween, and Candy was scantily clad in form-fitting black, and even slathered her face in some white makeup with jagged black designs around her eyes, emulating the classic corpse paint of Norwegian black metal origin.

  As the opening palm-muted strum of “Thunder Kiss ‘65” by White Zombie met the accompanying bass and drums, Candy began doing what she did best. She looked down at the man seated before her in the private dance booth and playfully lifted her tight leather miniskirt, revealing the black transparent thong she had on underneath. Her hips gyrated hypnotically to the beat while her hands grazed up and down her body. She’d much rather be giving a lap dance to the dark but strangely danceable doom metal sounds of Candlemass - preferably “The Well of Souls” or “Bewitched” from their Nightfall album. However, the clientele for such an act would just be too few and far between for the DJ to keep such an obscure band on the club’s hard drive. Or so Candy had been told by the DJ when she chose to ignore his attempts at negotiation for such a favor.

  She smiled and giggled, acting out that fake schoolgirl innocence that drives creepy men wild and cushions strippers’ bank accounts. She hated doing that, especially when dolled up in goth regalia, but she stripped for a living – not for art. She would dance to Britney Spears or even The Osmonds if need be, and she’d happily collect her payment for doing so.

  She might not have minded that kind of soundtrack at the moment, given how sick to death she was of giving private dances to this particular song. But she’d dance on and be happy about it, because the bald-headed and tattooed guy seated in the booth with her was actually kind of cute and appeared to have all of his teeth – a rarity in this little Rhode Island strip joint.

  Her skirt came off first, and she threw it onto her client’s red and black checkered flannel shirt. She then turned to give him as close to a face-full of ass as she legally could per the State of Rhode Island. When she turned back around to unbutton her see-through lacey blouse, she looked down and saw that this fella had a hard-on testing the durability of his jeans. She did not show any acknowledgment of this, but behind her professional face she liked what she saw. This guy was not only cute, he also had a package of porn star proportions ready to burst out of his pants. For once, she wanted this dance to go on a little longer.

  But then her guilt set in as a bulbous presence made itself known in the corner of her eye. Standing about ten feet away in the entrance of the private dance booth was Rhino, the club’s bouncer with whom Candy was trapped in a terribly abusive and unhealthy relationship with. She knew that Rhino saw what she saw bulging through the cute fellow’s pants, and if the poor guy made even the slightest infraction of club policy, he’d never come to this club again, and would probably be eating from a blender until his jaw healed.

  The well-endowed patron didn’t seem to notice Rhino, and kept his eyes glued on Candy as her see-through blouse came off and left her in nothing but a lacy bra and thong. Don’t look like you’re enjoying this so much, she thought. The flannel-clad fellow leaned back, prominently displaying the bulge of his erection. Candy now struggled to do her job, but carried on like a true professional. As her bra came off, she felt her boyfriend’s presence step closer into the entrance of the booth. And when she dropped her thong down to her ankles and turned around to give her own ass a few gentle slaps, her insides ran cold with dread.

  Finally, the song came to its end, and Candy thanked her customer. He stood and handed her two twenties, and walked away smiling. Rhino made sure to accidentally bump into him as he sauntered out of the booth.

  Candy gathered up her outfit, then turned to Rhino, but he was gone.

  I really hope he doesn’t follow that poor guy out, she thought, and scurried to the dressing room to put her street clothes on and wash off her makeup. That had been her last dance of the night and she was dying for a vodka-tonic at the bar.

  Minutes later, Candy was fully dressed and seated at the bar, shooting the shit with
Greta, the bartender.

  “How’s things going with Rhino?” asked Greta.

  “Good,” said Candy, looking around to see if her boyfriend was within earshot.

  “You sure about that?”

  “What do you mean?” Candy took a sip of her drink, far bigger than she meant to take. “Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

  “Well, usually when someone is in a good relationship they don’t give just one-word answers, honey.” Greta took a break from toweling down the bar and raised an eyebrow. “And they don’t usually look around in fear after they give their answer.”

  “He’s my ride home,” said Candy. “I was just looking to see if he was coming over to the bar.”

  “Candy, you know I dated Rhino a couple years back. And you know we aren’t the only two girls who have worked in this club and fallen for his fake charm.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I’ve been there, dear. And the only reason I didn’t speak up and warn you is because of how afraid of him I still am.” Greta made a point of nonchalantly scratching her shoulder just below the short sleeve of her t-shirt, where there were scars. “I know you’re trapped. And I know there’s no easy way out. I just got lucky and he lost interest in me.”

  Candy’s face turned a shade whiter, her icy blue eyes glazed over. “Yes, I know. And I wish you or someone had warned me.” She lowered her voice to a whisper and asked, “Did he do that to you?”

  “You mean these scars on my shoulder that still itch like a motherfucker?”

  “Yeah, those.”

  “He sure did, hun.”

  Candy took another long sip of her cocktail. “Greta, I’m going to tell you something in confidence. Can I trust you?”

  “You know you can, dear.”

  “If someday soon I don’t show up to work ever again, don’t be surprised. And please…don’t tell anyone I told you this.”