My Life is Horrific Chapter 4 — Claire’s Creepy Dad (Rewrite) (Patreon)

AN: First one got taken down for incest apparently. Despite the fact that Esther is a grown woman serial killer. So yeah had to remove some stuff.

In case I need to be clear

James Mitchell is 18

Esther Mitchell is 24 and was 23 when she was adopted therefore making the adoption legally void

I woke up with sunlight punching me in the face and immediately knew I was not going to have a pleasant morning. Esther was wrapped around me like a goddamn boa constrictor; her arms locked tight around my waist, her face buried in my chest. 

Fuck fuck fuck. 

I tried to slide away slowly, peeling her arm off me inch by inch. She just squeezed harder, mumbling something sleepy and nuzzling closer. I froze, sweat already beading on my back. "Stay asleeep... please stay asleep... you fucking psycho bitch..." I muttured before I gave one good yank, trying to roll free. 

Her eyes snapped open and a big innocent smile spread across her face like nothing was wrong in the world. "James!" she squealed, all sugar and sweetness and before I could blink she was scrambling on top of me. "You're awake! Play with me! Come on, let's play!"

She bounced agin and again, I grabbed her shoulders trying to lift her off. "Esther stop, get off—"

She giggled. "I love mornings with you. Play house with me? Or tag?"

I shoved her sideways harder than I meant to. "Go play by yourself. I'm getting up."

She pouted. "But I wanna play with you..."

"Did you forget I'm going away today?" I said, forcing the fakest smile I'd ever worn in either life. My voice came out way too high, like I was the little kid instead of her. "I'm heading to the lake house with my friends. Tyler's place, remember?"

Her pout got deeper, those big dark eyes narrowing into something that definitely wasn't cute. "But I don't want you to go," she whined, her voice cracking into full brat mode. "You promised you'd play with me and we still haven't yet. You always play with me. You're my favorite and you're just leaving me here with Mommy and Daddy!"

She bounced on me a few times pretty hard and I bit back a wince. Fuck, she was strong for someone who looked like she weighed forty pounds soaking wet. "Please, James? Stay? I'll be good..."

I was two seconds from shoving her off and bolting, but the sane part of my brain—the one that didn't want to end up stabbed and buried under the rose bushes—kicked in. Piss her off now and I might not make it to the next week. Dad's leaving next week, Mom's clueless, and this little murder gremlin would have me all to herself. No thanks.

I swallowed the scream building in my throat and kept the smile plastered on. "Hey, hey, I'll make it up to you when I get back, okay? Promise. We'll do whatever you want. Build the biggest fort in the yard, eat ice cream till we puke, the works. Sound good?"

She didn't say anything for a second. Just stared at me with her head tilted giving me that creepy unblinking stare. The room felt ten degrees colder. Then her face split into this huge, too-wide smile that showed every tooth. "Okay! When you come back. Pinky swear?"

She stuck out her pinky. I hooked mine around it fast, trying not to flinch when her grip tightened. "Pinky swear."

I smiled back then rolled her off me in one quick move before she could latch on again. "Gotta get ready. Don't wanna be late." I was already on my feet bolting for the door before she could scramble after me.

With the Bathroom door slammed shut and locked behind me. I leaned against it, breathing like I'd just run suicides on the football field. After a moment I glanced at my watch. Shit, just past eight. At least I hadn't been killed in my sleep. Or, y'know, molested. Though good luck proving the second one even if it happened. "Hey officer, my thirty-something adopted sister who looks ten crawled into my bed and dry-humped me"—yeah, that'd go over great. They'd lock my ass up and she'd wave bye-bye.

I splashed cold water on my face, brushed my teeth, then stripped and stepped into the shower. Hot water pounded down and I scrubbed myself as hard as I could before leaning forehead against the wall. 

Okay so what's my next move.

I have five grand just sitting in my account now from that achievement bullshit. Not bad for surviving one night with a serial killer dad and a pedo midget. It was past eight, plenty of time before I had to leave. I could call that broker downtown dump four grand into Apple stock right now. Microsoft too if there was any left. Hold that shit for thirty years and I'm set. Keep the other grand for myself. Buy a shit-ton of beer and whatever tequila the others were bringing. I never got carded these days so it wouldn't be too hard. Maybe even enough left for a box of condoms if things with Casey went the way I hoped.

But then again investments were more long term. They wouldn't help me at the moment so maybe it would be best to keep the $5,000 and use it on some more short term goals. It's also possible the achievement system would give me more money if I kept doing shit. 

I killed the water, towelled off quickly and stepped out into the hall. As I hustled to my room.

 I yanked on jeans, a clean tee, my letterman jacket, and stared at myself in the mirror. Should I just kill the little shit? Grab one of Dad's hunting knives, do it while she's distracted with her creepy art? Nah. Too risky. Dad would definitely notice. Cops would notice. And who knows what kinda horror-movie plot armor she had. Though there was always a chance that my dad would help me hide the body before inducting me into the family business. 

I went under my bed and got my bag out; it was already packed with clothes, toothbrush, a couple hidden joints I'd scored last week. I slung it over my shoulder and headed downstairs.

Mom was in the kitchen wiping down the counter, humming some old church song. Dad sat at the table with his coffee and the paper, looking every bit the perfect suburban dad.

"Heading out," I said.

Mom turned and pulled me into a quick hug. "Drive safe, honey. Call when you get there. No crazy stuff, okay? And watch out for that bruise."

"Will do, Mom." I hugged her back.

Dad folded the paper then stood up and clapped me on the shoulder. "Have fun, son. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." He winked like it was a joke. I almost laughed. Yeah, Dad, I'll try not to murder anyone this weekend.

"See you Monday," I said, already backing toward the door.

"Love you," Mom called after me.

"Love you guys too." The words tasted like ash. I stepped outside and didn't look back.

My mustang roared to life on the first turn of the key. I cranked the radio and peeled out of the driveway. I pointed the car toward Maple Street, toward Claire Bennet's house.

...

 I cranked the Mustang's stereo as soon as I hit the main road I hit the windows down and let warm summer air whip through the cab like it was trying to blow me out. Meanwhile I started blasting music out and driving like the police were after me. 

"Dancing in the moonlight, everybody's feeling warm and bright it's such a fine and natural sight!!! Everybody's dancing in the MOONLIGHT..." My hands slapped the wheel in time with the beat. 

For the first thirty seconds since I'd properly woken up in this world I felt free, happiness hit me full force and I slammed both palms against the steering wheel, laughing like a maniac. "Yes! Fuck yes! Out of that goddamn freak show!" I punched the gas harder, engine roaring as the speedometer climbed past sixty, tires humming over the cracked asphalt while I revved it again just to hear the growl. 

The town blurred past which was a little irresponsible in a suburban neighbourhood but I didn't give a single shit. Just me, the road, and three days of not wondering if my adopted sister was going to rape me in my sleep. 

Small mercies, man. Small mercies.

I didn't take long to get there. Maple Street was only fifteen minutes tops when you drove like you were Paul walker, and before I knew it I was pulling up in front of a big white house. The sun was beating down hard already, so I shrugged off the letterman jacket and tossed it in the back seat, leaving me in just the tee and jeans. I killed the engine, hopped out, and jogged up the towards the house before I rang the doorbell and waited. Hopefully this would be quick, I wanted to get on the road as early as possible. 

The door swung open and a woman stood there with a small yappy dog tucked under one arm. She looked at me and gave me a warm smile. "You must be the young man here to pick up Claire."

"Yeah, that's me," I said, flashing the same quarterback grin I used on teachers. "James Mitchell."

"Ahhh," she drew it out her eyes lighting up like I'd just handed her a winning lottery ticket. "You must be Arthur Mitchell's son. Your father does such wonderful work at the church. And the way he coaches the youth basketball league? Everyone in the PTA just raves about him. Such a good man, so involved. You're lucky to have a dad like that."

I kept smiling and nodding along. 

Yeah, lady, real lucky. You wouldn't be singing that tune if you knew he would slit your wrists in a bathtub or make you jump off a building. The words almost crawled out of my throat, but I swallowed them down and just said, "Thanks, ma'am. He's certainly... something else."

She laughed softly before shifting the dog to shake my hand and usher me inside. "I'm Sandra, Claire's mother. Come on in, honey, it's too hot to stand out here."

I stepped inside and looked around and to my surprise it all seemed genuinely normal. No creepy dolls staring from corners, no gremlin children in the basement. What a truly wonderful surprise, I should come round here for dinner as often as I can. 

"Can I get you some iced tea? Fresh made this morning," Sandra asked me as she turned around.

"Sounds perfect, thank you," I said. Wow even ice tea, now if that doesn't say normal suburban household mum from the eighties I don't know what did. The glass was cold and sweet when she handed it over, condensation dripping onto my fingers, and I took a long pull while she chatted about the party and how excited Claire was.

Then a tall man walked in from the hallway with a button-down shirt tucked into slacks like he'd just come from the office. He spotted my glass and grinned. "Already ransacking the iced tea reserves? Smart man, they never last long." He poured himself one, took a sip, then leaned over and kissed Sandra on the cheek. "Who's our guest, hon?"

"This is James Mitchell," she said with a smile. "Arthur's son. He's driving Claire up to the lake house."

The man's eyebrows lifted a fraction, but he stepped right over and stuck out his hand. "Noah Bennett, Claire's father. Good to meet you, son."

I took it. The second our palms met everything went white.

***************************************************

Noah stood in front of a stainless medical table, a dark-skinned man in a suit beside him. A young woman who was blonde, maybe twenty-five was strapped down on the table, her wrists and ankles locked in padded restraints.

Noah leaned over her. "Don't worry. You won't remember any of this." He reached over and twisted the IV drip higher. Her eyes fluttered, then rolled back, body going slack as whatever was in that bag pulled her under.

***************************************************

I snapped back into my own skin so fast I almost dropped the iced tea. Somehow my face stayed locked in that polite smile as I said, "I'm James Mitchell."

I should've honestly got an award for how well I composed myself because inside, my brain was screaming. What the fuck was that? Another Shining flash? Was this guy a serial killer too? Some mad-scientist horror flick I'd never seen in my old life? 

Jesus, how many goddamn movies had crossed over into this town? I'd assumed the big ones but random characters? This family could be straight out of some straight-to-video nightmare and I was about to spend four hours in a car with the daughter. Hopefully she wasn't a monster, I'd have to grab her hand and see if my power reacted to her. 

Noah kept my hand in his grip a second longer, studying me. "So how do you know Claire?"

I shrugged, trying to look casual even though my pulse was doing laps. "We don't know each other super well, but I've seen her around a lot."

"Seen her around a lot?" He raised one eyebrow.

Way to sound like a stalker bro...

"Yeah, she's friends with some of my friends," I answered, a little too quickly and a little too nervously. Fuck, why did that sound like I was hiding something?

He hummed in his throat, finally releasing my hand. "You drink?"

"Not during football season," I lied smoothly.

"Good. Make sure you don't touch any if you're driving." His tone had a pretty hard edge to it I might've missed had I not already been suspicious of him.

"Never would, sir. My father would have my hide if I did."

He nodded a few times then launched into the rules. "Claire's to be back by Monday night, no later than nine. No alcohol, no boys in her room, no swimming after dark, and if anyone starts acting stupid she calls me immediately. You keep an eye on her, understand? She's my little girl."

Why the hell does he expect me to enforce this shit? I don't even know your daughter, dude. I'm just the taxi service. But I nodded anyway. "Yes, sir. I'll make sure."

Before he could pile on more, footsteps came down the stairs and Claire appeared, rolling her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. "Dad, seriously? Give the guy a break, he's not my babysitter." She was gorgeous up close. She had wavy blonde hair that caught the sunlight, skin with a soft tan from cheer practice, and an outfit that somehow managed cute and hot at the same time. 

She smiled right at me. "Hey, James."

"Hey, Claire," I said back, stepping forward like the gentleman my mom raised me to be. "Let me take your bag." I reached for the suitcase she was hauling, our fingers brushed, and holy shit the electric jolt slammed through me like I'd grabbed a live wire again, same as Carrie, same as Wednesday. I yanked my hand back before I could stop myself.

She blinked, confused. "You okay?"

"Yeah, static shock," I lied, shaking my hand like it was nothing. "Carpet in here or something." I grabbed the handle properly this time and headed for the door. "I'll get this in the trunk."

Claire said her quick goodbyes with her family then followed me out. Sandra and Noah trailed behind, waving. "Drive safe," Sandra called. Noah added, "Keep my Claire Bear safe, son."

Claire turned beet red. "Dad! Oh my God, can we just go?"

No complaints from me. I tossed the suitcase in the trunk, slid behind the wheel, and fired up the engine. She climbed in, slammed the door and let out a long breath. "Sorry about him. He's... a lot."

I just grinned, backed out of the driveway, and pointed us toward the highway. "No worries. Parents, right?" 

Claire let out this dramatic sigh that filled the whole car, slumping back in the passenger seat. "Ugh, he's the worst sometimes, always with the rules and the lectures and 'Claire bear this' and 'Claire bear that' like I'm still ten years old and not about to graduate, I swear he thinks every boy within fifty miles is plotting to corrupt me or something, and don't even get me started on how he grilled you back there like you were some criminal instead of just doing Tyler a favor, it's embarrassing as hell." 

She kept going like that for miles, ranting about curfews and no drinking and staying in sight of the group and how he probably had the lake house phone number memorized already, her hands waving around in the air while the wind from my open window tossed her wavy blonde hair.  

All I could do was nod along, keeping one eye on the road and the other on her legs stretched out in those cute denim shorts. At some point I cut in during a breath she took. "I can relate."

She burst out laughing loud enough that it made me glance over with a smirk, her head was thrown back against the seat and those slightly tanned shoulders shaking under her tank top. "What's funny?" I asked, looking over at her while the highway lines blurred past.

Claire wiped at her eyes while still grinning. "Well it's pretty well known around town that James Mitchell is the golden boy, gets good grades, is the quarterback, his father is one of the most well respected men in town."

"Don't forget handsome," I added with a wink, making her giggle again, that soft little sound that did stupid things to my pulse even while my brain. I definitely had a weakness for blonde women it seemed. 

She nodded, still chuckling as she turned more toward me in the seat. "Exactly, you basically have the perfect life, everyone at school talks about how you're basically Ferris Bueller."

"Don't be fooled," I said, gripping the wheel a little tighter. "I have my own share of troubles."

"Oh yeah, like what?" she asked with this playful grin, twisting fully to face me now, one knee pulled up on the seat so her whole body angled my way.

My dad is a serial killer who butchers women during his fake business trips, my adopted sister is a full-grown adult woman pretending to be a kid so she can seduce and probably murder me in my sleep, I'm going to school with a ticking time bomb named Carrie White who'll turn the prom into a bloodbath if I don't stop it, not counting the several other dangerous women walking around like Jennifer Check and Wednesday Addams who could snap at any second. 

Oh yeah there's a killer clown from another universe that eats children and is most likely awake right now in the sewers waiting to drag kids dowm there to float them, but I didn't say any of that of course because admitting it would make me sound insane and probably get me committed before the weekend even started. 

"Oh you know," I said instead, shrugging like it was nothing. "Just normal teen drama."

Claire left it at that, thank fuck, not pushing like some girls would, and after a quiet moment she leaned back again and stared out the window at the trees whipping by. "God I needed this weekend though, just to get away from all the pressure and the rules and everything feeling so much all the time, you know?"

"Yeah, same," I agreed, meaning it more than she could ever guess.

I cracked a grin and glanced over. "Just remember all those rules your dad gave me though, I'll be enforcing every single one, no fun allowed, lights out at eight, only water and gruel for you."

She swatted my arm lightly, laughing again. "Shut up, you're the worst."

"I was a little nervous for this car ride," she admitted after a second, "but it doesn't seem like it'll be too bad."

"Pfffft, do you forget who you're riding with?" I joked, puffing out my chest in mock pride. "The golden boy himself."

That made her laugh hard enough that she had to hold her sides.

"This weekend's gonna be good," I told her, meaning it as much as I could with my fucked-up track record. "And to start with, we're heading straight to an out-of-town store and loading this car up with as much alcohol and food to feed a football team."

"Woooo!" Claire whooped, pumping her fist in the air like we'd just scored a touchdown.

We drove out of town, the highway stretching ahead of us, and around two hours later I spotted the big boxy shape of a massive Costco off the exit ramp, the kind of place that sold everything in bulk. I pulled in and killed the engine in the lot, the sun beating down hot on the asphalt as we both climbed out and stretched, her tank top riding up just enough to make me appreciate the view before I shook it off.

I headed straight for the ATM by the entrance, punched in my code, and watched the machine spit out a crisp stack of hundreds totaling a thousand bucks. "You should feel lucky," I said to Claire as she caught up, waving the bills. "Since we're basically the only people here from the group, we get to pick exactly what this gets spent on."

She eyed the stack with wide eyes, biting her lip in that cute way that made her look even hotter. "Is it okay to spend that much? I mean, that's a lot of money for a weekend."

"I specifically saved it for this moment," I lied smoothly, because blowing a grand on party fuel was the least I deserved after waking up spooned by a killer midget. "No regrets."

Claire's face lit up. "Let's get shopping then!" We high-fived right there in the parking lot before we headed inside.

The next hour turned into this ridiculous moment of us tearing through the aisles like kids on a sugar rush, me pushing a massive flatbed cart while Claire darted around grabbing cases of beer and bottles of vodka and tequila that we stacked until the cart groand. she kept adding more like we were stocking a bar, her bumping my hip with hers every time she tossed something new on and me firing back with jokes about how Tyler would owe me his firstborn for this haul. 

We loaded up on food too, mountains of chips and dips and burgers, steaks, chicken and hot dogs and every snack imaginable, plus this huge sheet cake from the bakery that said "Senior Weekend" in shitty icing because why not, the cart so overloaded by the end that the wheels squeaked and the whole thing felt like it might tip over, and when we finally checked out the total barely dented the grand but the trunk of the Mustang sagged noticeably when we crammed it all in, bags and boxes wedged everywhere until there was barely room for our legs on the drive.

We climbed back in and I cranked the radio until music blasted through the speakers again. "It's such a fine and natural site everybody dancing in the moonlight!!!" We both started singing at the top of our lungs as I pulled back onto the highway, her hair whipping in the wind from the open windows and her hands waving like she was conducting an orchestra while I drummed the wheel and belted the chorus right along with her. 

(AN: So Claire Bennet if you didn't know is from a tv show called heroes. James never watched it in his previous life. In fact there are going to be quite a few that James won't recognise. Anyway hope you enjoyed.)