Read Online The Third Antichrist by Mario Reading - Free Book Online Page B

In this way Dracul felt that he was adhering to the decision he had come to whilst recuperating under the monk’s care. That from henceforth he would decide his own destiny. Manipulate and bend the stupid masses to his will. Act, not react.
    After the killing he returned home and laid his game plan on the line to his sister.
    But Antanasia was a pragmatic girl. Despite being sexually abused by both her father and her brother – and despite being rented out by her father as a Friday-night plaything – Antanasia still felt that her place was at home. She belonged to a culture where a woman was defined by her family. If Antanasia had left home, it would have meant replacing familial prostitution with the more formal variety, in Chi ş in ă u, where she would have been at the mercy of Russian gangsters. Instead of the occasional forced encounter, she would have formed part of an assembly line of whores, serving a minimum of two dozen men a day. And if she was really unlucky, she would be sent abroad, to a country she neither knew nor understood, to service men who had no earthly reason to treat her with anymore respect than they would show their dogs.
    No. Antanasia knew which side her bread was buttered on. At least, thanks to their sexual interest in her, neither Dracul nor her father beat her, as her father had done to her mother. And she received occasional kindnesses, particularly from Dracul, to whom she was devoted. She was a good cook and a better seamstress. This and her youth gave her a certain status amongst the older local women, and did something to alleviate the damage done to her reputation by her father’s waywardness.
    Dracul had tried to explain to Antanasia that he did not intend to remain at home forever. That he would be moving up to the monastery as soon as possible, and that he needed her to accompany him and do certain things for him.
    But Antanasia, despite her affection for her brother, said no. She owed a duty of care to their father, and this she would dispatch. He was head of the family. If Dracul became head of the family, and she was still unmarried, matters would change. But until then, she would obey their father.
    Dracul had scratched his head in bewilderment. Married? No one would ever marry Antanasia. Didn’t she realize that? Moldovan peasants didn’t marry whores. And certainly not whores whose favours they had shared with their neighbours.
    In terms of both affection and sex, Dracul knew that Antanasia preferred him to their father. That much was obvious. So what was her problem? At least Dracul didn’t rent her out to all and sundry in return for drinking money. And whenever Dracul made love to her, he had to thrust his fingers deep into her mouth to stop her from moaning and giving the game away. This moaning never happened with their father or with any of the other men she serviced. At these times Antanasia was silent, allowing the men to have their will of her, yes, but deriving little or no obvious enjoyment from the act. Perhaps their father had broken her in too early? thought Dracul. Or maybe she was just bored?
    That night, Dracul watched his father slurping his rachiu .
    Adrian had recently given up beating his son. The boy was far too strong now, and liable to fight back. And anyway, Adrian was getting older, and didn’t have the drive he once had. Drink and the loss of his wife had seen to that.
    But Adrian still took the greatest possible pleasure in fucking Dracul’s sister in front of his son’s eyes. Despite his alcoholism, Adrian was smart enough to realize that Dracul was bitterly jealous of him. That he wanted Antanasia for himself. So Adrian made a point of using her as often and as explicitly as he could – and also of giving away her favours for free to friends and acquaintances when the mood came upon him. He didn’t know why he did this, for he loved his daughter, and would not normally have wished to hurt her. But there were times when Dracul resembled