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YOU WRECKED ME

YOU WRECKED ME

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"Hold your breath, and I'll fuck you. You'll fucking feel it, that rush you wanted, that orgasm. I'll spit on your pussy, and eat that shit up. Just let me choke you, Vera, and you'll have to take it all like a good fucking girl." Hunter would fuck Vera lifeless if he wanted, treat her any which way just to keep his dick hard, and keep his thick, juicy cum running. After witnessing his mother being raped and murdered in cold blood, sick thoughts over power hunter and gradually his fantasys turn into a fetish. A fetish he cannot control and one his girlfriend can no longer tolerate. His girlfriend Vera calls for a break

Chapter 1 PROLOGUE

(HUNTER'S P.O.V)

(SIX MONTHS AGO)

Birthdays are supposed to smell like cake and candles, but mine smelled like blood instead.

"Ma, I'm home!"

It was the day after my twenty-first birthday.

My girlfriend, Vera, had planned a huge surprise party for me. Well, it wasn't much of a surprise; she threw me a party every year since we started dating. It had become a yearly ritual, so I already knew she was planning one.

All I had to do was act surprised each year. Yesterday I did.

Almost everyone was in attendance. My friends, Vera's friends and a few of our course mates that I spoke to from time to time.

Vera's mother was there-and, to my surprise, so was her father, who was usually far too busy to attend events like this.

Everyone was present, everyone except the only family I had -my mother.

"Of course I invited her, we've been planning this party together for weeks."

That was Vera's response when I asked her about my mother's whereabouts.

Halfway through the party, and my mum still hadn't shown up.

"I'll call her, just try and enjoy the party," Vera assured me.

But it was hard for me to enjoy anything. The cake, my guests, even Vera's father, whose approval I'd always chased.

"She's not answering," I stated the obvious, after Vera's third call went to voicemail again.

"She's probably on her way already, you know it's a three-hour drive from her place," Vera reminded.

"No, something's wrong. It's so unlike her." I picked up my coat, turning round to leave.

"Hunter, you have guests to attend to. All Daddy's lawyer friends are here and would love to see you. I'm sure she's on her way," Vera assured me.

"But she was supposed to be here yesterday."

"She'll be here. I promise," Vera's voice sounded certain.

The only thing that kept me there was the effort Vera had put in to make my party perfect.

She'd gotten her father to show up-her father and his powerful connections. I knew that was difficult for her to do, but she did it anyway.

So, I decided to leave the second the party was over.

"Ma?" I called again.

I now stood on the porch of my mother's house, ringing the doorbell continuously. I pulled the handle, but the door didn't budge; it was locked from the inside.

I rounded the house, heading straight to the back yard, specifically my mother's garden.

I scanned the plants for a red flower pot. Mum always hid her spare key there. I found the key and took it back with me to the front door.

The key opened the door, and I stepped in.

"Ma?" I called. The worry was already evident in my voice. I looked around the house-her room, the kitchen, the bathroom. She wasn't anywhere.

By the time I reached the family room, my unease had grown into something larger.

That's when I noticed it-her suitcase, still neatly packed, propped beside the sofa.

Mum had probably spent hours packing for her trip to my birthday party.

๐ผ๐‘ก ๐‘ โ„Ž๐‘œ๐‘ข๐‘™๐‘‘๐‘›'๐‘ก ๐‘๐‘’ โ„Ž๐‘’๐‘Ÿ๐‘’.

Seeing it only confirmed Mum never left the house.

My heart skipped, and a cold dread began creeping up my spine. But the rational part of me tried to dismiss it.

๐‘†๐‘œ ๐‘คโ„Ž๐‘Ž๐‘ก ๐‘–๐‘“ โ„Ž๐‘’๐‘Ÿ ๐‘ ๐‘ข๐‘–๐‘ก๐‘๐‘Ž๐‘ ๐‘’ ๐‘–๐‘  โ„Ž๐‘’๐‘Ÿ๐‘’? ๐ผ๐‘ก ๐‘‘๐‘œ๐‘’๐‘ ๐‘›'๐‘ก ๐‘š๐‘’๐‘Ž๐‘› ๐‘Ž๐‘›๐‘ฆ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘–๐‘›๐‘”.

I looked at the suitcase again, and this time, something odd caught my eye. There was a note stuck to it.

I ripped it off immediately, looking at the unfamiliar handwriting scribbled on it.

"Play the DVD"

๐‘Šโ„Ž๐‘Ž๐‘ก ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘’ ๐‘“๐‘ข๐‘๐‘˜ ๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘–๐‘ ? ๐‘Šโ„Ž๐‘œ๐‘ ๐‘’ โ„Ž๐‘Ž๐‘›๐‘‘๐‘ค๐‘Ÿ๐‘–๐‘ก๐‘ก๐‘–๐‘›๐‘” ๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘–๐‘ ?

I swallowed hard; my throat went dry.

Something was very, very wrong.

I bolted out of the living room, with the note in my hand, heading straight for Mum's room.

Her DVD player was always there. She had a stack of discs, old favourites she loved rewatching.

๐‘‡โ„Ž๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘๐‘’๐‘ก๐‘ก๐‘’๐‘Ÿ ๐‘๐‘’ ๐‘Ž ๐‘“๐‘ข๐‘๐‘˜๐‘–๐‘›๐‘” ๐‘—๐‘œ๐‘˜๐‘’.

I looked around her room for a disc, in search of it, knocking down a few cases she had collected over the years.

I knew every disc she owned-every label, every title-by heart. I was looking for something unfamiliar, something that didn't belong.

Then it hit me- the note hadn't said anything about finding a fucking disc.

It simply said "๐‘ƒ๐‘™๐‘Ž๐‘ฆ ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘’ ๐ท๐‘‰๐ท."

A small TV rested on Mum's dresser, the remote lay neatly on top, and the DVD player was right under it.

๐‘ƒ๐‘™๐‘Ž๐‘ฆ ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘’ ๐ท๐‘‰๐ท.

I turned on the TV and grabbed the remote.

I pressed play, not knowing what to expect.

The screen flickered, then filled with warm, grainy footage-home videos of me as a baby. Tiny Hunter in oversized pyjamas, crawling across the living room carpet, laughing as Mum lifted me high into the air.

A nervous smile tugged at my lips.

๐‘†๐‘œ ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘–๐‘  ๐‘–๐‘ก, I thought. ๐ด๐‘›๐‘œ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘’๐‘Ÿ ๐‘๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ๐‘ก ๐‘œ๐‘“ ๐‘š๐‘ฆ ๐‘๐‘–๐‘Ÿ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘‘๐‘Ž๐‘ฆ ๐‘ ๐‘ข๐‘Ÿ๐‘๐‘Ÿ๐‘–๐‘ ๐‘’ ...๐‘ โ„Ž๐‘’'๐‘  ๐‘”๐‘œ๐‘–๐‘›๐‘” ๐‘ก๐‘œ ๐‘๐‘œ๐‘ ๐‘œ๐‘ข๐‘ก ๐‘Ž๐‘›๐‘ฆ ๐‘ ๐‘’๐‘๐‘œ๐‘›๐‘‘ ๐‘Ž๐‘›๐‘‘ ๐‘™๐‘Ž๐‘ข๐‘”โ„Ž, ๐‘ก๐‘’๐‘™๐‘™ ๐‘š๐‘’ ๐‘–๐‘ก'๐‘  ๐‘Ž๐‘™๐‘™ ๐‘๐‘’๐‘’๐‘› ๐‘Ž ๐‘๐‘™๐‘Ž๐‘›.

The memories were comforting, a reminder of everything safe and familiar. I let myself relax for the first time that day.

I even laughed softly when I saw Mum carefully decorating the cake from my first birthday.

My chest felt lighter, and for a brief moment, the dread that had been twisting in my stomach eased.

Till the screen flickered.

The footage warped. The warm light of the home videos turned cold. The happy scenes stuttered, skipping unnaturally, and the sound distorted into a low, static noise.

My smile faded. Something was wrong. I leaned forward, squinting at the screen, trying to convince myself it was just a technical glitch.

Then a new video started.

It was unfamiliar. Not a home video. The angle was lower, the lighting dim, and I immediately recognised the tiled floors-my bedroom.

But the scene... the scene wasn't playful.

There she was.

Scrambling on the floor, with her breasts out...naked.

A masked man loomed over her.

๐ด๐‘š ๐ผ ๐‘Ž๐‘๐‘œ๐‘ข๐‘ก ๐‘ก๐‘œ ๐‘ค๐‘Ž๐‘ก๐‘โ„Ž ๐‘š๐‘ฆ ๐‘š๐‘œ๐‘กโ„Ž๐‘’๐‘Ÿ'๐‘  ๐‘ ๐‘’๐‘ฅ ๐‘ก๐‘Ž๐‘๐‘’?

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