The House in the Valley Ch. 01

*There is a gulf that separates Bad People and People who do bad things*

I came to the House in the Valley pretty much by luck. I had been on the run for twelve hours and I was hot, dirty, hungry and exhausted. My clothes were torn, I was cut up from thorns and brambles, and my feet ached from running on the uneven ground of the countryside. I was lucky to find the place in the dark. It was a massive ranch-style house that appeared to be well off the beaten path. I felt luck, but first a little background.

My name is Bartholomew 'Bart' Travers and I tend to make bad choices in friends. My current predicament was brought about by my best buddy Eddie Marx. I'd been bailing Eddie since elementary school. I took it a step further when Eddie got in a fight with a guy when we were fifteen. The guy tried to stab Eddie so we tussled and I ended stabbing this dude.

I spent six months in juve -- alone. When I got out, I hooked up with Eddie again but things were never the same. Eddie had gone from crazy to crazy-mean. One night Eddie told me to meet up with him at a nearby corner grocery. He's waiting around when we get there. He presses this gun into my hands and tells me we are going to rob the place. I freak, but Eddie begs me to back him up.

Stupid me, I agree. We go in and Eddie and I pretend to be looking for shit to eat. Suddenly Eddie runs up to the store owner and starts yelling at him for all his money. I move up so that I can cover the door as well as Eddie. Eddie gives me this crazy look then shoots the guy -- or, shoots at the guy. Eddie, that loser, misses. The store owner comes up with a shotgun and cuts Eddie in two.

Now I'm thinking that running for my life is the right thing to do. My mind does the quick math of me making it to the door and the speed at which the guy with the shotgun can aim at me. I step out and scream at the top of my lungs that I'm running away. I hold the gun up pointed at the ceiling. The bastard shoots at me anyway. There are Cheetos everywhere. Of its own accord, my arm comes down and I fire the pistol. The guy falls down behind the counter.

I start running and don't stop even when I reach the truck stop miles outside the city. There I see a Highway Patrol car and I take off behind the place going overland. In the city I pretty much stayed away from parks. To say I have no knowledge of the wilderness is putting it mildly. I was so lucky to find that house; I could have wandered the wilds until I die of thirst.

I came to the back of the house and found a door with glass panels that appeared to lead to a kitchen. I got ready to knock out a pane when my professional criminal training took over. I tried the doorknob and opened the door. It swung open quietly and I breathed a sigh of relief.

First thing I did was make it to the refrigerator and pig out. There were all kinds of healthy shit, like apples, peaches, and carrots. I was so hungry I choked down some hotdogs raw. I was putting some stuff on the island in the middle of the kitchen when I noticed movement. I shut the door and pulled my gun out. There was this girl/woman in a mid-thigh length white teddy with midnight black hair that hangs down to her waist. She stars at me with large dark eyes that gave her face a child-like appearance.

"Don't move or scream and I won't hurt you," I whisper. She nods. "Is there anyone else in the house?" Again she nods. "Take them to me." She stares at me and I suddenly feel like a total idiot. "Take me to them," I correct myself." She turns and slowly walks out of the kitchen. She stops and waits for me to follow. I start noticing there were a lot of flowers in the house.

She leads me down the hallway past several doors, some closed and some open to a variety of rooms. I notice one looks like a kind of game room, the kind that had both a PS2 and an X-box, not that I've actually owned either. Finally we come to the room at the end of the hallway. The door is slightly open so she pushes so that I can look in. I look over her shoulder and see a second woman who looks like the sister of the first lying on a huge bed is propped up on her elbows and is looking at me.

"He's come looking for food," the first girl says in a hauntingly sexy voice. The second girl nods and pulls aside the covers and swings out of bed. She is dressed identically to the first girl and it dawns on me that they were twins.

"What are you going to do to us?" the second girl asks me.

"I'm not going to do anything to you if I cooperate," I promise.

"Oh," she says in that identical haunting voice. She almost sounds disappointed. "Let's get you some food." She walks right to me, ignoring the gun and edges passed me to the corridor. "Let us feed you."

"Umm ... okay?" I say. I find myself following the second girl and dragging the first one along with me.

"What is your name?" the first one asks.

"Bart."

"What does that stand for?" the second one inquires.

"Bartholomew," I answer.

"I don't like Bart," the first one says. "I'm Penelope."

"We will call you Bartholomew," the second one states. "I'm Phoebe."

"Penelope, Phoebe, I don't want to hurt either one of you. Just give me what I want and I'll be gone in a few hours. All I need is food, a shower, and a little sleep."

"We will feed you. What would you like?" Penelope asks.

"How about a ham and cheese sandwich; maybe two?" The girls look at one another then smile to me.

"We can do that. Sit at the counter and we'll take care of you. You might want to keep your gun pointed at us. We are very dangerous," Phoebe jokes in that lilting tone.

Considering I'm six foot-two and two hundred pounds of muscle plus I have a gun, and they are perhaps five-seven and one-thirty, even combined I can take them.

"Okay, I'll make sure to keep an eye on you both," I humor them. They stare at me with this kind smile that I'm I normally get from nerdy girls when I stop some thug from shaking them down for their homework.

As they fix me my sandwiches and some soda to drink, they keep stealing glances at me. I keep the gun on the counter as I fidget.

"What's with all the flowers?" I ask idly.

"We buried our Father today. He died Wednesday of a heart attack. It was very sudden. We miss him terribly because he was the center of our life," Penelope explains.

I jump up and wave my hands in despair.

"God! I'm sorry. I didn't know. I'll take the sandwiches and go."

"No, please," Phoebe says. "If ... if you leave we will have to call the Sheriff and he will arrest you."

"Oh crap," I moan. "This is the last thing I need. I already have enough trouble."

"What are you in trouble for?" Penelope inquires. I hesitate to tell them. They look so alone and vulnerable; not to mention kind of sexy now that I was no longer starving. I have to leave.

"I killed a man, or I think I killed a man," I respond.

"How does someone think they killed someone?" Phoebe asks.

"I shot a man in the chest after he blew my buddy in half. We were robbing the guy's store, so even though I didn't mean to shoot him, I'm still going to jail forever if they catch me."

"That's so sad," the both declare softly.

I'm diving into the food and am starting in on the second sandwich when I notice Penelope (or is that Phoebe?) moving her hand toward my gun. I snatch it up and glare at her.

"Don't do that," I bark. The offending girl seems contrite.

"You had better restrain me," she responds.

"Yes, you can't trust her," the second one says. "We have twisty ties in the draw over there," she says indicating a drawer.

"Penelope?" I guess.

"I'm Phoebe," she corrects me.

"Fine Phoebe, I'm going to have to tie you up now. You shouldn't have tried that." She nods meekly. These girls are starting to creep me out. I grab Phoebe by the arm dragging her over to the indicated drawer and pull out the ties. I stare at her, trying to figure out which way to proceed. She holds her wrists together in front of herself and looks up at me. I repeat -- creepy.

I tie her wrists together, study the situation then have her kneel down. I twisty-tie her ankles together too. I finish my meal in silence.

"Okay, I'm going to take a shower. Penelope, come here and I'll tie you up to," I command.

"No," Penelope says. "If you tie us up together we'll untie one another. You had better take me with you."

"But I'm going to take a shower."

"I know. Can I take my clothes off first?" Penelope questions me.

"I guess ... why would I do that?"

"You have to keep an eye on me, don't you? I have to get in the shower with you because you can't trust me out of your sight," Penelope explains.

"I ..."

"You had better keep the gun on her," Phoebe adds. "Better yet, keep a hand on her at all times."

"Ah ... thanks for the tip." I take a second to realize how I'm being used. "Phoebe, are you comfortable?" She looks up at me, tilts her head quizzically and shakes her head.

I stick the gun in my belt, kneel beside Phoebe and heft her up with one swift pull. She folds into my arms as I swing her up and stand.

"Where is a sofa, or bed?" I ask Penelope. She starts walking into the next room without comment. She motions to a sofa in what seems to be a cavernous living area. I kind of wish I had asked her to cut on a light as I navigate the furniture to set Phoebe down. I prop a pillow under her head trying to make her as comfortable as possible.

"Are you going to be okay?" I inquire.

"Thank you, yes," she smiles, but it's a strange sort of smile that makes me think there is some joke that I'm missing. I think I'm too tired and am starting to imagine things. I move to Penelope who has been studying me the entire time.

"Come on," I sigh. "Take me to the shower and we can get this over with." Penelope nods and takes the way down the corridor that leads to the room she was sleeping in. She walks into a large bathroom and cuts on the lights. I've put the gun on the vanity and started in on my sneakers when I spot her shifting out of her nightgown in one subtle gesture.

"Oh Fuck!" I blurt out as I spin and look at her. Okay, her tits could be bigger, but they are firm with large dark areolas that accentuate her ivory skin and raven hair. Her eyes look extremely large as she meets my gaze. My eyes wander up and down her body. Now I notice her light pink finger and toe nails and neatly trimmed landing strip.

"Your boyfriend is a lucky guy," I mutter as I turn away. I'm painfully hard and even thinking about nuns smacking me in the nuts with rulers doesn't do any good.

"We don't have boyfriends. Papa didn't approve of boys coming around. That is why were home schooled through high school.

"You were home schooled?" I gulp. Penelope nods.

"Neither one of us has been alone with a boy since we were nine," she admits. I feel a knot in the pit of my stomach.

"You two are virgins? I promise I won't harm you, honest," I groan. Penelope nods.

"We believe you," she says softly. "You don't want to hurt us."

"Let me take a shower. You wait right here," I command. She gives me this innocent curious look.

"If you leave me here I might go free my Sister and call the Sheriff. I really should take me with you."

I can't seem to catch a break. The bathtub isn't huge and I know my boner is going to bump against her. I remind myself how much of a bad thing rape is. I pray I can keep it together.

"Come on," I sigh as I hold the gun on her. I cut on the water and wait for it to get hot. I can't but notice her staring at my crotch. She tentatively reaches out for my cock. I jump back and shout,

"What the hell are doing?"

"Is it big," she says by way of a response.

"I ... what ... I guess so. I've never taken a ruler out and measured it. I ... noticed guys in the showers in juvie weren't as big most of the time," I babble, not sure why I'm telling her this.

"Can I touch it," Penelope asks as she reaches closer to me. I would back up but I'm already at the wall.

"NO!" I shout.

"Why not?" inquires with those impossibly large child-like eyes.

"I might rape you if you touch me," I confess.

"Can I touch it," she persists as if she hasn't heard a word I've said.

"NO!" I shout again. I motion for her to get into the shower. She does without comment. I follow her in, appreciating how nubile her body is. I groan. I can't even beat one off.

I do the best I can with a gun in my hand, finally giving up and putting the gun in the shampoo caddy. As I'm shampooing my hair and have my eyes closed I feel her hands against my chest. I freeze. She runs her hands along my sides and rests them on my buttocks giving me a squeeze. I tense reflexively and she moans. She licks my nipple.

"Stop it," I whisper. She persists so I quickly douse my hair in water and rinse. I pick up my gun and put it between us.

"Back off," I say trying to sound way meaner and tougher than I really am. "Let's get out and dry ourselves." I keep an eye on her like she's keeping an eye on me. I find my eyes soaking up her body as she dries off. I notice her lower lips are puffy and full. I look up and find her smiling at me. I blush.

"It is okay. You can touch me if you like," she tells me in that hauntingly sweet voice.

"No thanks," I respond.

"Why?"

"I don't trust myself with you," I answer.

"I trust you," she smiles.

"I'm a killer. I could hurt you," I tell her.

"I'm not afraid of you," she informs me.

"Well I'm afraid of you."

"Oh," she says in surprise. That turns into an appreciative look which turns into that tilted headed weirdness she and her sister share. I start to get dressed when Penelope puts out a hand to stop me.

"Don't put on your old clothes. We can wash them. Use one of Papa's old robes until they are done. I would offer you some of Papa's clothes but he was much smaller than you.

I want to argue but can come up with a good reason. Wordlessly we go to the laundry room and dump my clothes in and get the cycle going. I go in and check on Phoebe. She's thirsty so I get her some orange juice. She and Penelope are talking quietly when I return. Phoebe thanks me when I finish helping her drink. I have Penelope put the glass in the sink.

"Let's go to bed," Penelope says out of the blue. I'm looking around for something to keep me awake while I wait for my clothes to get out of the dryer.

"What?"

"You can wrap an arm around me so that you will wake if I move. You can put the gun on the night stand so I can't reach it. I won't do anything to hurt you." She sounds so fucking logical, I am damn tired, and I am the idiot that followed my dead idiot friend Eddie into a bodega so he could get his stupid ass killed. I do as she suggests but promise myself to keep one eye open. Penelope cuddles up against me and I feel so warm. She's running her hand through my hair when drop off to sleep.

(Later)

My reflexes are pretty good. I sense something before I see it and reach for the gun. One of the girls is standing over me with a skillet or frying pan (I'm not a cook). As I'm moving something pulls on my other arm, keeping me in place. The 'thing' comes down on my forehead it hurts like hell. I yank on the restraining arm; I hear a squeal of surprise as I drag Penelope (?) with me. Down comes that heavy 'thing' again, this time to my temple. I'm trying to raise the gun up when I catch the shadow of Phoebe's movement through my blurred vision. Everything goes dark.

There is something cold pressing up against my throbbing skull. A groan escapes me and my eyes open slightly. Ambient light is flowing in. I guess it is early morning so I haven't been unconscious too long. One of the two is crouched beside me dabbing my head with an ice bag.

"Oh, you are awake. Penelope," Phoebe calls out, "he's awake." Penelope comes running into the room.

I decide to not wait for a three-way fight so a sit up ... or would sit up if my arms weren't tied to the opposite bed posts with nylon rope. I struggle but there is very little give in the rope. I pant and exert until I notice the girls studying my naked body in rapt fascination.

"What is going on here? When is the Sheriff coming for me?" I sigh.

"Oh, we won't call the Sheriff," Penelope says with a friendly smile. She pulls a massive kitchen knife from behind her back. I definite don't like the way this is going.

"Penelope wants to kill you because she's never seen a person bleed out before," Phoebe tells me with the vacant smile you normally get from a server at McDonalds.

"I want to keep you around to have sex with so we will know if we like it or not," Phoebe explains.

"I prefer your plan to Penelope's," I gulp.

"Then we'll kill you," Phoebe concludes. I gulp again.

"How about you untie me, we get some breakfast and we can talk this over?" I suggest.

"No," Penelope says waving the knife in my direction like a twisted conductor leading a ghost symphony, "you had the chance to hurt me last night but you didn't take it. You could have fucked me until I was bleeding and broken at your feet," she adds with great disappointment.

"You left me tied up all night on the sofa helpless. I left my ass up in the air hoping you would come and rape me, until I got so frustrated I had to come looking for you. You left me very dissatisfied," Phoebe concluded.

"I'm going to die because I was nice to you?" I say with incredulity.

"Yes," they respond as one.

"We once had a dog that would bite us, but we played with it too hard and it died. After that Papa wouldn't let us have any more pets. We beat up kids in school but they never fought back. Finally we pinned a boy to the ground and broke his arm with a rock, but all that made him do was lie on the ground screaming like a little baby. That was no fun. After that Papa kept us at home all the time. We've been alone until you came along.

"You two are insane," I whisper in shock. They smile that ghostly innocent smile that is both erotically charged and totally wacked at the same time.

"Oh," Phoebe grins, "He's excited by our story." Actually, I'm terrified by their story. "How about this; if you pleasure both of us I'll drive an ice pick through your eye to kill you quickly, but if you don't make us happy, Penelope will get to carve you up with her knife. Do you agree to this?"

"How do you know that the ice pick to the brain is painless?" I have to ask.

"I read about it on the internet," Phoebe sighs. "It is most likely possibly true." I gulp again.

"How about this; one of you keeps the gun on me while the other one has sex with me and I get to use my hands. Sex is better that way."

The twins look at one another and exchange that spooky twin psychic thing before looking at me and nodding. Phoebe takes off her teddy and underwear and I can tell she's already wet by the stain on the panties. Penelope retrieves my gun, goes to the foot of the bed, my revolver pointed out me. It occurs to me that neither girl has a clue what they are doing as Phoebe unties me. I wait for a few seconds when Phoebe gives me that crucial bit of information.

"Papa blocked all the sexually explicit channels." I toy with the idea of trying to make this wonderful, but I decide to get this over with. I can't bring myself to be romantic with a girl who is going to kill me no matter what I do. I grab Phoebe by the upper arms and bring her up for a kiss. Her large eyes go wider and I have to muscle my tongue into her mouth.

"Mm mph," she mumbles. I press her lips harder will pushing my tongue in farther and pressing her tongue down. She moans and goes almost limp in my grasp. Now I'm getting really angry. I flip her over so that I'm on top of her. I push her unresisting legs apart and aim myself toward her entrance.

I switch my arms so that one is in a fist by her head and the other has hooked her leg and moved it over my shoulder. I bend her back painfully and her biting her lower lip is my reward. I feel my penis touch the wetness of her vagina.