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This story will focus on a female serial killer named Raven and her odd relationship with Henry Lee Lucas. It is rated M for mature and XXX for tons of smut. This fanfic will have cussing, violence, blood, murder, and eventual BDS...
Pushing play on the VCR, I perched on the edge of the couch and chewed my nails. The tape crackled with static and Henry's handsome face appeared on the TV screen. He was seated at my parent's kitchen table. What the hell was I about to endure?
"Hey, kitten. I got in by posin' as a pest control employee. Turns out yer parents have a roach problem, which ain't surprisin' considerin' how seedy the area is. Both o' those assholes are tied up in the basement. I used chloroform ta do what I needed ta do. Yer 'bout ta see 'em. This'll be satisfyin'," Henry promised.
Scooting the chair back, he pushed to his feet. He picked up the camera, set it on his shoulder, and strolled towards the basement. Flipping on the light, he descended the steps. The first things to come into my view once his feet landed on the carpet were a sofa, coffee table, TV, and a table and stools with an unfinished poker game. A pool table was where Henry was headed.
Sitting the camera down on the pool table, he turned his back to it. Unbuttoning his work shirt, he tugged it and his white undershirt off and tossed them onto one of the stools. A gun was tucked into his waistband behind his back.
For the first time, I got a glimpse of the tattoos on Henry's back. I had noticed them the first night I had met him, but I had never actually seen them because he was always facing me when he was naked, even in the shower. When I had taken the Polaroids of him on his stomach before he had left Chicago, his back had still been angled away from me.
A hissing black snake with crimson eyes coiled around a silver dagger stabbed through a skull graced one of his shoulder blades. A busted bottle of alcohol and bloody shards covered the other. A simple barbed wire tattoo lay in the middle of his shoulder blades. As Henry dressed in a soiled wife beater, I counted the barbs. There were 10, one for each year of his prison sentence after he killed his mama.
Barbed wire tats were a common occurrence among prisoners. A lot of inmates had them done while they were in jail. My bet was Henry had his inked into his skin then, too. The others were way too colorful and skilled to be prison tats. He had probably had those done after he was released from jail.
As Henry moved away from the camera, more of the basement panned into view. A small table was set up with various tools laid out on it. Mama and Philip were bound to padded steel chairs by ropes and duct tape, their chins resting against their chests.
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So far, they were unharmed. They were unconscious and had socks stuffed in their mouths to keep them quiet. Philip's hair was completely gray and he was balding. My mama's locks were still as dark as mine, most likely because she dyed them. Getting an eyeful of Philip made me coil in disgust, and I hadn't even seen his creepy green eyes yet.
"Hey, wake the fuck up, assholes!" Henry growled. The dead eyes he sported when I met him were prominent.
When there was no response from either of my parents, Henry smashed the heel of his boot into Philip's chair. Philip stirred but didn't fully regain consciousness. Leaning towards my mama, Henry shook her chair.
