Read Online Long Hard Road Out of Hell by Neil Strauss, Marilyn Manson - Free Book Online

when he struck the final deadly blow. He had hit her once more for good measure–she killed Peg. He had every right.
    Carefully, he let Peg’s head rest on the carpet. Bending down, he kissed her cheek and wiped some sticky stuff from her rubber lip. Mom had told him before not to touch Peg or to make the nasty in her mouth, but he couldn’t help it. He loved her too much just to leave her be. If Mom found out he was doing the nasty then she would take Peg away, like before—he would have to find her too.
    As Teddy went back to Angie’s body he stopped for a moment to marvel at her nudity. He had always watched her dress from the closet, but he had never seen her thing up close. He was fascinated by the dark tuft of hair between her legs–Peg didn’t have that. Cautiously he touched her thigh, and jerked away as if her flesh were hot. It wasn’t, though. In fact, she was starting to get cold. It had been four hours.
    “I hate you,” he informed her cadaver eyes.
    Again he touched her thigh, but this time he didn’t pull away. Gently, he ran his fingertips up her hip and toward her crotch. With the other hand, he pulled her muscled legs apart. Between them was a puddle of urine the size of a pancake. He gave her genitals a curious poke. She was much softer than Peg, and wait–although her body was cold and pallid, she was warm inside. He was getting excited by her macabre sexual divinity.
    He had to stop–Mother would be upset if he was doing the nasty. She hated the nasty; Dad had found that out the hard way. All she liked was sewing and watching Family Feud. She loved that Richard Dawson guy.
    But she was so yielding, so doughy. Peg’s skin was hard and waxy inside–he’d had her for ten years (when he was eighteen he ordered her from a dirty magazine). Angie was only five then, and now she had matured into a beautiful young woman. He really didn’t hate her that much but she shouldn’t have killed Peg. He was only watching her shower. It was nothing new. But she would have told Mother, Mother couldn’t stand for that kind of filth in her house. That’s why he had to hide Peg in the first place. Mother was so old-fashioned; he had to hide a lot from Mother.
    Going to the garage, he fetched a spade and began digging in the garden. He had to finish before she got home.
    The soil was tender, and it took but a half hour to make the grave.
    Time was precious so he went in and cleaned up. He grabbed a towel and went to Angie’s room. Grabbing both her arms, he pulled her back a few feet–the puddle had soaked into the carpet, leaving a dark stain. He carefully sopped it up and threw the towel in her closet.
    As he dragged her through the living room, he considered an idea. It was the best idea he had ever had. If Mother had liked the nasty, she would have been proud of his idea.
    He dropped Angie’s arms and went back to his room. It pained him to look at Peg’s wasted body; the gash in her chest seemed bigger and painful. But she was old, he thought. Maybe it was best she had died.
    Teddy tossed the knife and carried the rubber doll’s limp torso through the kitchen into the back yard. “I’m sorry Peg,” he told her painted face. He wouldn’t bury her just yet—first he wanted to try out his idea. If it worked, then he would cover her up.
    It was almost time, he would have to hurry. Back in his sister’s room, he took off his jeans and knelt beside the corpse. The smell of death was pungent and sickening, but life was too frightening for him to handle. He was more of a watcher. But it was too late for watching and she would be perfect. He could hide her. Just like Peg.
    As Teddy mounted his sister in a fumbling, incestuous act of necrophilia, Mother’s car pulled into the cracked driveway. She saw through the grimy windshield the rotting bags of trash piled among the weeds near the porch. That damnable Teddy. Just like his father.
    Merely four strokes within her, Teddy finished shamefully; he