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Lisa kicked the door open, a bone rattling scream ripping from her throat. Her stepsister and the boy that she, up until a moment ago, thought she would be losing her virginity to sprung apart from their almost kiss. She simultaneously thought that she would be sick and that her flesh would melt off from the rage boiling her blood.
“Sisters share, huh?!?” she screeched.
She watched and listened through a haze of red. Taffy's assurances that this wasn't on purpose, that she'd never hurt her, that most boys wanted her for sex but Michael was different. But she knew Lisa liked him, she had hurt her, and she was obviously about to fuck Michael just like all the other boys.
And Michael. He called her kiddo and talked to her so differently than the suave, flirty way he had all week. She hadn't imagined it. He had been filrting with her. He was a liar, a fake, and she had been stupid enough to fall for it.
She could hear herself raving at them both, but it was almost like she was watching someone else. All she could think about was how much pain she was in - her chest ached with it, her skin too tight, barely able to contain the hurt and embarrassment and anger.
Suddenly Taffy pulled the duvet up over her chest while Michael threw his arms and shoulder in front of her, protecting her. “Oh my God-” “Whoa, who the hell-” they cried in unison.
Lisa turned and suddenly he was there, eyes blazing acid green as he glared at Michael and Taffy in the bed. She felt relief flood her instantly despite the murderous gleam in his eyes. She wasn't alone now.
He looked just as odd and out of place as she did in Michael's blue bedroom, shitty drawings tacked to the walls and what she assumed was music to make love to on in the background. She had no idea where he had gotten his current outfit, but he looked incredibly old fashioned - and incredibly angry. She should have listened to him in the car, she thought, and none of this would have had to happen.
Seeing the axe in his hand she realized he had come to protect her - again. Lisa felt her heart squeeze painfully, clarity rushing over her so sharply it left her lightheaded. She could feel tears starting to roll down her cheeks as she was overwhelmed with emotion - pain, betrayal, anger, embarrassment, and rage mixing with gratitude and a sudden overpowering rush of love for the undead boy in front of her.
She felt too much - her chest began heaving as she started to hyperventilate, the warmth of all the affection she had for him tangling with all her darker emotions and the chilling realization of how much she must have hurt him with her words and actions. Her mouth opened and closed silently, the overwhelming urge to apologize, to say I'm sorry, and the struggle to breathe, rendering her mute.
He propped the axe against Michael's stereo and came towards her in one fluid motion. Lisa allowed herself to sink into his arms, fisting handfuls of his shirt to hold herself up as she struggled to breath and see through the tears.
He held her about the waist, supporting her weight, while his other hand came up to cup her face. Lisa watched as his eyes shifted from sharp and murderous to large and concerned, luminous with -
“Love,” she thought. “He loves me.”
His thumb brushed softly over her cheek, trying to wipe her tears away, and she turned into his palm trying to control her breathing.
“I - I love him too,” she thought desperately. She felt elated at the revelation and foolish for how long it took her to recognize his feelings or her own. But more than that she was ashamed for all of the grief she had undoubtedly caused him.
“What, ugh-” Michael started to say from the bed, lifting himself up slightly and pulling the sheet up higher around his waist. Lisa watched as her love - “love, love, love” she repeated again and again in her head - whipped his head to glare at Michael, eyes turning hard. He let out a low groan that almost sounded like a growl and Michael fell silent immediately at the ferocity of the look.
“I-I’m sorry,” she said brokenly, and he turned back to her confused.
“You love me,” Lisa said softly and his face changed immediately into something softer and more open. “I didn't realize - I hurt you - I'm sorry-”
She struggled to get her breathing under control, and tears were still trickling down her face. She realized she had to look a mess as her mascara wasn't waterproof, but he didn't seem to mind. He stared at her like she had hung the moon. Reaching up she mirrored his actions- cupped his cheek with her hand, brushing her thumb over the scar along his cheekbone. She watched him take a shuddering breath and then she allowed her hand to drift lower and her thumb brush over his bottom lip.
He froze instantly, staring at her with wide eyes. She spoke in a whisper, her voice still shaky from tears and the intensity of all the emotions she was trying to reign in.
“You love me. And I love you,” she said, desperate to let him know her feelings now, to apologize, to fix her mistakes. “I don't know how I didn't see it before, I'm sorry, I-” she watched as he blinked rapidly and realized he was trying to hold back his smelly tears.
Reaching up she cupped both of his cheeks, taking deeper breaths and trying to smile to reassure him. He took a shaky breath, no tears falling, but then looked intently from her eyes to her lips and back again.
“He’s going to kiss me," she thought, her own eyes sliding down to the curve of his mouth. He leaned towards her and her heart skipped a beat.
And then they both heard the bed creak behind them, Michael moving to grab his clothes off the floor. They froze inches from each other - broken from their revere, their eyes locked and Lisa gave him a nod. Reaching up she tucked one of his stray curls behind his ear. “Just don't hurt Taffy,” she said in a whisper. He gave a small groan, and then she watched as he transformed - his eyes turning hard as he reached down and grasped the axe handle with one hand and with the other turned the volume up on the stereo. Lisa realized that it was likely to drown out the sound of screams.
He stepped away from her to the side of the bed and Lisa turned to watch. A part of her noted the bizarreness of the situation, how it undoubtedly indicated what everyone had already been saying - that there was something wrong with her. But she didn't care. He loved her and that's all that mattered.
She thought that he would simply bury the axe in Michael's chest, but instead she saw him reach out and rip the duvet off the boy she had planned to give herself to. She only had a moment to note his nakedness before the axe came down and in one fluid motion cracked through his pubic bone and sent his genitals flying through the air.
Lisa was in shock - she had expected blood and gore - but this was the absolute last thing she had expected to happen. She watched with wide eyes as it landed with aplomb in the wastepaper basket next to her.
And then the scene reverted to what she'd expected -Taffy and Michael's screams, and the coppery smell of blood, filled the bedroom. And there was so much blood. Both of them were covered in it, the sheets were soaked, and both she and her creature were speckled with it.
As he lifted the axe again, this time to actually bury it in Michael's chest the way she had predicted, she turned to the waste paper basket. “Why had he done that?” she thought. “Maybe it was punishment? But he normally only dismembers for parts that he needs.” Lisa's brain stopped suddenly at ‘parts that he needs’.
She looked back to him as he wretched the axehead out of Michael sternum, a fountain of blood spewing up. He and the walls took the brunt of the latest spray, his cheeks and shirt now splattered red. At this point Taffy was silent, in total shock, but physically unharmed. Michael was slumped in the bed next to her, eyes vacant, dead.
“If he had taken this from Michael it was because he needed it, and if he needed it it was because he planned on using it, and that meant…” Lisa felt blood rush to her face in a blush and south in immediate arousal. He had cut it off for her. He wanted…
She reached down and picked up the wastepaper basket, clutching it to her chest so when he turned from his work and found her holding it he paused. She saw his eyes go wide and his shoulders tense. She realized he was unsure, embarrassed, and waiting on her reaction. Waiting to see if she had put it together, and if she would reject him.
“Never again,” she thought.
Lisa smiled brightly - so full of love and affection for him she could barely contain it. Holding on to the basket with one hand she reached out her other towards him. She saw his chin wobble, tears nearly falling again, but he kept them at bay and placed his hand in hers. Lisa squeezed it, and turned to pull him from the room with a giggle, rushing down the stairs with him and back home, back to the tanning bed, as fast as she could.