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Quiet now Sprocket, your cries have not gone unheeded. Hush little babe, and I shall rock you to sleep, cradled in mine arms. There I shall tell you a story, to quiet your nightmares. I promise to take care of you, but only if you finish to the end of this ghastly little tale. Those meek at heart should go sleep elsewhere ... and not in my bed ... All characters, living, dead, possessed, or undead, are copyright Eldyran. Hellraiser and its intellectual properties are the rights of Clive Barker. Do not Keep Secrets from HappyFunBall (tm) !!!

Hellraiser: Hellsent

4th Piece - Sins of the Father

2006 by Eldyran

Atlantic Ocean, 1884

When the first unusual oceanic swell tipped his steam ship twenty degrees to port and made his afternoon cup of tea slide off his desk, to shatter on the iron deck plate of his private quarters, Captain Culverton knew immediately that something had gone horribly wrong.

The malamute dropped his fountain pen mid stroke, and his widening, dread stricken blue eyes drifted to the porthole in his quarters. As the tsunamic swells from underneath the keel of his ship race toward the North American Coastline, the pit of his gut turned into a block of black ice. The black and white canid shot up from his desk, upturning his logbook, and scrambled out of his quarters, as if he had inexplicably gone stark raving mad.

"The fool!" he cried out, shoving aside the blue uniformed deckhands who had massed on deck to watch the earthquake unfold before their startled eyes. "I told him not to open it!" The cries of hundreds of seagulls pierced the clear blue sky above them, a summoned evil beyond all imagination driving the ocean birds into a demonic fit of raptus. Culverton dashed toward his first mate's quarters as if the souls of his entire crew depended on it.

For only the captain and his first mate alone knew what unholy cargo their ship carried.

"Rogers! What have you done!" Culverton shrieked, his paws landing ahold of the door latch, and jerking the heavy iron door open with a blood curdling screech of its hinges, rusted by ocean spray. At first, the malamute stared into the darkness of his first mate's cabin, as if sheer will alone could breech the profane gloom. The rays of the late morning sun above the ship glinted off something golden on the floor of the cabin, and without thinking, the canid raced through the small doorway, his calloused maritime paws eager to seal up what his first mate had unwittingly unleashed once again.

Four months ago in April, a similar seismic anomaly had ripped through Essex, the most devastating earthquake in England's history. The occult advisors of the Mighty British Empire had bade Culverton to hide the source of this devastation deep within the American's western frontier, where no one could unless its hellish power again.

"Rogers! Where are ..." the canid's hind paw slipped in the centimeter of blood filing his first mate's cabin floor, and the canid landed on his back hard in the lake of gore with a soft slurp. A short, pained bark burst from the captain's muzzle lips as the short spill knocked the breath from his lungs, now frozen with fear. His trembling eyes took in the shadowy outline of another canid, who reached down with a blood slickened paw and picked up the opened puzzle box. Culverton, still dazed from the fall, looked around for any signs of his feline first mate, then addressed the stranger.

"You there! What is your name!" the captains voice quivered, his stomach queasy from the stuffy cabin air, now overtaken with the stench of fresh, steaming blood and minced innards. "And where is Rogers?!!" Concealed in deep shadow, the brooding, short canid figure gave a soft snicker.

Oh captain! My captain! the demon's wispy, harlequin laugh echoed within the metallic confines of the cramp iron quarters. His chortle abruptly ceased, and the trickster continued. To answer your last question first, you're laying in him, bender_. And I go by many names ... Á?tsé hashké, Loki, Kokopelli, Ueuecoyotl, ... Nyarlathotep ... do you need me to spell those out for you, captain? I think I have all the ink I need at my hind feet._ A dark paw tip dipped down into the crimson murk that Culverton lay in, and scribbled some bloody gibberish on the wall. As the eldritch chime of the Lament Configuration continued in ghastly, maddening verse, the iron door to the cabin slowly closed and latched.

I know that your crew has orders to hide these little trinkets in South America should something happen to you, my dear captain. Minor setback, I assure you. I have all the time in the world ... unlike you ... The blueish black depths of the open puzzle box brightened at those words, illuminating the nude coyote, the grim luminescence turning his red soaked fur a dark crimson. His insane grin widened as his endless, ageless names took form on the wall next to him. You know ... I think I'm going to need more ink after all...

The crew on deck never heard their captain's shrieks of agony over the earsplitting screech of the seagulls.

Brazil 1974

Armel Merchant shuffled some cartographer's maps in his paw, listening to the soft, almost hypnotic, pling of rain against his den room window. He glanced over from his wooden desk to watch the downpour ripple the rain forest foliage just outside his window, and took time to smooth out the creases of his military casual fatigues. His vulpine back ached from sitting too long, and he had a mountain of paperwork to fill out for all the recently enlisted, but he ignored all to continue pouring over his single obsession.

His ancestor's puzzle boxes.

Armel used the French Foreign Legion as a means to travel the world, locating and amassing his ancestor, Philip Lemarchand's, great works. Although several puzzle boxes still remained unaccounted for, he meant to transfer to the South Pacific next year, and continue searching there for the the Elegy Configuration. He had already managed to find one such relic in some shadowy street market stall here in Brazil, but the shopkeeper who sold him the Lament Configuration gave him a strange vibe, as if this particular box had crossed his paws on more than one occasion.

The black fox hated to deal with coyotes. Especially filthy ones.

Armel took the golden puzzle box out of the small wooden crate on his desk and ran his paws tips along its metallic etched surfaces. Arcane, cryptic, almost fractal symbols gleamed back at him, mocking him. Despite the long years, he never could solve any of these puzzles, but for some inexplicable reason, he felt compelled to find them. It was as if he had been born to find them.

The black fox leaned back into his desk chair and sighed, the box tumbling from his abusive paw to fall into the crate once more. Enough play time. He got up from his desk, the thick ropes of muscle in his stocky vulpine body straining the material of his tan fatigues. He brushed out his tail for the small amount of dust that had settled in the thick, bushy black fur, and picked up the crate, heading for the storage room. After the door to the small, cluttered room swung open, Armel dropped the crate in shock at what he saw.

His eight year old son, Joshua, sat on the floor before him, his muzzle entwined with his classmate at the local primary school, an ocelot named Phillipe. Before the crate even hit the floor, the adult fox's enraged gaze followed their arms, where they disappeared into the waistlines of their shorts. The outline of their mutual paws rubbed, stoked their hidden, prepubescent sheaths, and the slick tips spilling out of them. A volatile mixture of regret and anger welled up deep with Armel, of all the things that he had done to his son.

With his son.

Regret metamorphosed into jealousy, anger to into rage, and the adult black fox stormed across the room, his eyes wide with ferocious denial.

"What's this you little Serin!!!" The huge, sinister black fox in casual military dress bellowed out, charging over to the ocelot. The prepubescent feline scrambled backwards on his ass, his head snapping back on his neck like a rubber band, trying to deny the dirty deed.

"No Mr. Merchant! We were just ... playing ... a game!" The brawny vulpine's paws latched on to the eight year old's arms and yanked him up. The ocelot yowled in pain, his hind paws kicking futilely, now a meter off the art deco styled carpet.

"Your not going to turn MY son into a Pédale you little Merde!" Mr. Merchant growled and shook the child back in forth in his adamant grip like a rag doll. His claws dug deep into the tender, unspoiled flesh, his vice like paw tips already leaving dark bruises under the the silky feline fur. Joshua heard his friend's squeals of pain and ran to his aid. The little fox's paws locked on to his father's mammoth right bicep, trying to break the hold.

"No Daddy!" He cried out, yanking down on his fathers arm with as much success as a gnat grappling with an Airbus. "You're hurting him!" Armel growled and sent his son flying backwards into the wall with a vicious back paw. Even though he felt the frail cartilage of the young fox's small nose break under the blow, Armel turned back his attention to this little sexual deviant he choked, throttled, forcing the young felines back at an unnatural angle. The forbidden memory of his son's musk and sweat scented fur funneled his projected guilt, channeled his fury, and his meaty biceps tensed.

Joshua's father snarled, and Phillipe's immature humerus gave a wet snap. The arm flopped around like a boneless fish, his friend's eyes rolling back in their sockets. The young feline's shrieks of agony echoed off the thin stucco walls, seeming to go on without end. Without warning, Armel found himself pelted in small fragments of stucco as the walls around him burst, exploded from within.

The sound of wrought iron chains whizzing through the air suddenly filled the room.

Righteous agony pierced the supple flesh of the wicked, and splashes of hot crimson flew from the black fox's extremities. Some gouts spattered against the off white walls, turning the small storage room a style of Tormentor's Pollock. One such slash fell across his son's muzzle, and Joshua's eyes widened to the horrific scene before him, moments before his muzzle split in a wail of everlasting horror. Armel heard none of it over his own shrieks of pain, the torment ripping the strength from his limbs, and he dropped the young ocelot in a heap at his hind feet, which were now being lifted off the ground as the multitude of chains piercing his muscled body drew tight. Thick drops of blood fell from his canid toes, twitching in agony, to join the small, but growing pool underneath him.

Armel's stocky, vulpine form pitched, convulsed in the air, his muzzle agape, the whites of his eyes drawing back into his skull. The chains tightened more, wrenching a groan from the ensnared black fox, the sinew of his hips and shoulders creaking with the strain. His eyes fluttered open to the Angel of Suffering, the jaguar in front of him, his off colored feline skull a sadistic grid of pins. His serrated black leather trench barely hid the pierced spotted fur and flayed flesh underneath.

Is this how you treat family, Armel? the Dark Prince of Pain rumbled, his impassive, black, souless eyes looking deep into the struggling vulpine before him. The jaguar swept a bloody paw toward the young fox, who still held the opened puzzle box between his trembling paws. Blood from Joshua's broken canid nose still dribbled into the open cube, mixing with the fresh splash of gore that had splattered across the stucco walls.The sins of the father are evident, laid bare before us all. You have shown your son our ways. Your own flesh and blood. Pinhead said, his deep rumble turning almost a soft purr.

Joshua called us, brought us to you, so that we may shower you in the same delights. Your own flesh demanded it. The jaguar hissed, fangs bared, and the entire wooden frame of the room groaned as the chains strained, testing the limits of the fox's masculine body. The raptures you showed him, the punishments, are nothing compared to what awaits you within the Box! With that snarl, a segment of iron chain burst from the floor to shoot up underneath the fox's tail; two more shooting through his chest. The chains suddenly snapped back, and Joshua's father gave a blood curdling scream.

Unforgiving iron won over frail flesh.

Pieces of Joshua's father flew against the walls with thick splats, bits of vulpine sliding erratically down the rough stucco. Armel's head, still intact, landed before Phillipe with a thick thud, the fox's dying, pleading eyes asking for forgiveness. The eight year old ocelot's slitted eyes widened, and a soundless scream tore from his muzzle; his shattered mind unable to form even simple words. It would remain that way for exactly ten years. The cenobite turned and walked over to Joshua with slow deliberate steps; the steps of a stalking predator who has not yet seduced its prey enough to pounce.

Now my child, it is time for what you really summoned us for. Joshua's trembling eyes looked up to the towering feline, his childhood fear of the boogieman coming to life before him. His friend had once suggested that wonderful things happen in closets, and that the boogieman, who lived in them, liked to watch. As the black eyes of the demon bore down upon him, Joshua knew what it wanted.

It wanted to watch him fuck Phillipe like the ocelot suggested his older brother did, a thousand ways to pierce, pin their eager flesh in place, for all eternity.

The young vupline's eyes turned to his only friend in this entire carnal world, and feared for him. Although the soft mewls belayed the empty mind, Joshua could not see his friend suffer any more. This demon was no better than his father, promising a new play place, but only offering up more undeserved punishments instead. All the failings he found in his father, he channeled into his desire to banish the Cenobite back to whence he came. His muzzle lips curled, and his young paws clutched the fractal metallic edges of the gilded puzzle box, ready to reverse the solution.

"Go to Hell!" Joshua snarled, and snapped the Lament Configuration back into place, blue currents of electricity flowing through the the black fox's soft paw pads, searing them. A sudden maelstrom erupted in the room, tossing cardboard boxes around, and the cenobite's eyes widened. Pinhead's yowl of denial mingled with Joshua's screams of pain, but his nimble paws continued to rearrange the box back to its original shape, despite the sick sizzle of cauterizing flesh. The hellish, blueish black lights from within the cube died, and the Maw of Hell opened up within the unholy tempest at the center of the room. As the vortex dragged the roaring Cenobite back into his infernal abode, his extended claws desperately snatched out for the temptation now just out of reach.

Joshua's eyes rolled back into his skull from the pain, from the bliss of unsummoning this lecherous fiend, and the Lament Configuration tumbled from his grasp, falling once again back into his father's crate of insipid trinkets. Before the young black fox's form slumped unconscious to the floor, he thought he heard an coyote's enraged howl die away, as if the trickster's intricate and carefully designed plan had suddenly been thwarted ...

At least for ten more years ...

Florida 1984

As Gabriel Merchant entered his kitchen one early and particularity deary September morning, he noticed his son, Adrian, and his nephew, Joshua, were already at the breakfast table, each seeming to ignore each other with silent impassiveness. He gave a inward sigh as his hind paws padded across the cool linoleum floor, brief case clutched in paw, and the morning paper tucked firmly under the armpit of his business attire.

As always, Joshua never looked up from his meager breakfast of fruit and juice, instead, his vibrant green eyes seemed to bore holes into the white plastic of the kitchen table, lost in deep, precocious thought. Gabe's own son however, continued to shovel in the wet mush of fiber into his slack muzzle, his unfocused, dull gaze drifting across the way with all the intelligence of a cow at the slaughterhouse. The middle aged black fox gave his son a rub on the back, and Adrien cranked his neck around to peck his father goodbye on his furry cheek, wishing him a good day in the office.

After he left the quiet kitchen to get into his town car, stepping into the chilling morning drizzle, Gabe couldn't help but feel a flush of guilt about the last decade. He had never liked his older brother, Armel. Growing up together in the secluded farmlands of France, Gabe used to find the eviscerated bodies of small kittens buried in shallow graves across the yard, the torture and cruelty evident even to him. In school, Gabe watched his brother bully and extort his classmates, even when he attempted to intervene numerous times. After his brother's wasted education, Gabe found it no surprise that the burly fox went into the military.

The tragedy that happened in Brazil shocked the entire Merchant line; news of Armel's brutal and puzzling murder making its way even across the expansive waters of the cold Atlantic. Nothing as sick and depraved had happened to their linage in two centuries, not since one of their own, a reclusive toymaker by the name of Phillip, had gone on a demented, yet coldly calculated, killing spree and dismembered some seventy fursons, small boys included. Armel's son, Joshua, had no place to turn other than him, and after the Brazilian police had released him from custody, the traumatized young vulpine arrived at his residence in Florida.

Still, Gabe could not shake the feeling that something was wrong with Joshua, as from the moment he met his nephew, the introverted black fox seemed distant, and seemed to shirk away from any physical contact. Gabe decided to have his nephew live in the same room as his son, but a few months later, a fight erupted between the two boys, and since then, Joshua never seemed to want to talk to Adrien. Joshua continued to slide deeper and deeper into his emotionally distant and socially reclusive shell, until Gabe had no choice but to send Joshua to a psychologist.

A few days later the female wolf was found dead in her apartment, hanging spread eagle from jeweled necklaces and shreds of silk dresses, skinned alive.

Once again Joshua found himself within the whirlwind of a intense police investigation. Ugly rumors cropped up as the local police department delved deeper in Armel's murder: unsolved and unexplained disappearances surrounding the aftermath of the tragedy, contained in carefully misplaced and misfiled documents.

The Brazilian authorities hated to look bad, after all.

After the turmoil of the grizzly slaying had died off, Gabe had no choice. He did what any other uncle would do. He tried to raise both his boys as best he could, despite their awkward, and quizzical disposition with each other. Still ... Gabe could not shake the feeling that something dark and unthinkable lay dormant within Joshua; the quiescent lusus naturae. The black fox shuddered as he backed out of the driveway, and turned on the town car's heater, errantly thinking that the dark chill that crept up his vulpine spine came from this dank, banal morning.

After his father left, Adrien shot Joshua a strange look from across the table, and slid the bowl of milk to the side.

"He still doesn't have a clue you know ..." Adrien said, biting his lower muzzle lip.

Joshua looked up from his meager breakfast, but said nothing to Adrien.

"The bus doesn't leave for another half hour ... if you wanted to slip upstairs ..." Adrien's leg slid underneath the table to rub across Joshua's thigh. Joshua growled at his cousin and shot up from the table, storming out of the house into the fine drizzle of the deary September morning.

* * * * *

As Adrien stepped back into his house out of the downpour, small droplets of rain flew away as he shook out his dripping fur out at the doormat. The heavy front door behind him closed with a sharp click, almost echoing through the silent and empty three story house. Adrien wiped some lingering rain from his eyes, and perked up his keen vulpine ears to listen to any movement within.

"J ... joshua?" the black fox stammered, listening for a reply. Not that his cousin would actually speak, but usually the creak of a floorboard from the old house gave away the solemn fox's presence. Adrien stood just inside the doorway for a few moments, small drops still falling from his sable fur. He was alone.

Not that that was unusual; his father usually worked late at the office, and his cousin often made it a point to walk home after school. Adrien took off his rain soaked jacket and hung it by the door, dropping off his book bag, before creeping upstairs to the attic. As the black fox entered the dark, musty hallway of the forbidden attic, Adrien's paws fumbled for a light switch, and a curtain of sickly yellow light fell from a single flickering, aged bulb. A high pitched electric hum filled the air, high enough to send the vulpine's keen perked ears into flicker fits. As he slid down the hallway, one of his slender paws slid along the wall beside him, peeling chips of paint scraping his paw pads.

His father told him that he shouldn't ever come up to the small two room attic. The reason was twofold: Joshua was fiercely territorial about his privacy, and the storage room next to his contained nothing but ugly memories. Adrien didn't know his uncle, Armel, but he had heard that some of the more 'unique' things the military fox had collected in his global travels had wound up in that room. As he reached the door to the storage room, something metallic glinted in the sickly light, and the black fox knelt down get a closer look.

It was a set of crude iron lock picks.

Adrien picked them up and examined them closer, only to fine small flecks of old, crusted blood on them. The curious fox grabbed the rusty iron door handle and turned the knob. The heavy off white wooden door swung open with a slow, grating creak to an wall of impenetrable darkness within. Adrien stepped inside, the inky blackness almost tangible on his fur, crawling up his skin, trying to get inside. He shuddered at the sensation, and placed his paw on ... a stone pillar ... to steady himself. He was about to feel around the stonework to examine it closer, but something chitinous with a multitude of multi-segmented legs ran over his paw.

Adrien barked in fright and shook the thing off, before falling backwards out of the doorway, and the heavy wooden door swung back, slamming unceremoniously shut with a groan. The black fox blinked up at the knob as it turned by itself, and he heard the thick click of the rusty old locking mechanism.

"Hello?" Adrien called out, his quivering voice echoing in the barren, musty hallway. The spooked vulpine fought the urge to flee back down the stairs, and instead got up, lock picks in paw, and scuttled over to the real source of his curiosity.

Joshua's room.

After he found the door to be locked, Adrien examined the lock and began to pick it. Although his paws were unskilled, the blood line that ran through them was crafty and nimble, and after a while, the lock gave a soft click. He pushed the door open, and a sparse room greeted him with grim asceticism. A mildew encrusted, dark brown smugged mattress lay in the center of the peeling, dingy room; a small black leather trunk next to it served as a makeshift nightstand. A dresser stood in the corner, holding all of Joshua's meager stash of plain attire. Small, quirky iron trinkets littered tops of both, and Adrien stepped up to each, examining the assortment of queer novelties.

Adrien's curious paw tips ran over a crudely made iron version of a 'Don Carlos', then drifted to a ground down iron interlocking 'Diagonal Burr'. There was even a tattered 'Nicht Zu Hitzig' just laying on the trunk, probably picked up at some garage sale, the German antique puzzle recognized only by a select few. The black fox couldn't resist the temptation, and cleared off the chest, before opening it.

Adrien's brow furrowed when his paws took out a football jersey. The number on the back corresponded to his school's star running back, Raymond. How did his cousin get the straight jock's jersey? Did Joshua have a thing for the white wolf? His paw tips slid over the leather, now surprisingly stiff, and tinged an off white, as if something red had soaked into the material and had been washed off.

He groped underneath the jersey, and gave a sharp, pained bark as he cut himself on something sharp. When he drew his paw back, small drops of blood welled up from a deep cut on his paw. He licked the wound clean, and the bitter, enticing taste took him momentarily off guard. He took out the jersey and threw it on the mattress, before staring in disbelief at all the knives and strange toys that lay at the bottom of the trunk.

He pulled out a ground down Gates of Hell and looked over the consecutive, enlarging rings, a perverse shudder running up the fox's tail base all the way to his hackles. His other paw carefully reached in and grabbed out a slightly curved, thick, polished, iron rod with sequential sized bulbs running up it. He thought of his cousin, and what he did all alone up here.

A private fox of secret pleasures.

A few moments later a drop of pre soaked into his tented boxers, and without thinking about it, he put down the implements in his paws and undid the button of his tight jeans. A flush of forbidden desire tore through the black fox as he worked his pants and boxers down past his slender hips, rippling his silky black fur, to pool at his ankles. Adrien pulled off his sweater, revealing his slim chest, and dropped it to the floor, before crawling onto his cousin's bed. His sensitive vulpine nose buried itself deep into the sweat and blood stained mattress, the weight of his body settling into the broken springs.

As the musk of Joshua's scent filled his nostrils, Adrien pressed his overspilling sheath again and again to the bedding, which conformed around his naked, foxy form. With each grunt Adrien gave, the entire mattress swayed, his rocking body arching into it again and again. The black fox thought back to the times when Joshua first shared a room with him. At first they were uncomfortable around each other, until one night when Adrien crawled into bed next to him after a series of bad dreams, ones where a coyote-like monster stalked his family. Although Joshua didn't say anything, he listened and held Adrien as he cried out his fears and confusion. After a few weeks of sleeping in the same bed, their curious paws started exploring each other, tentative at first, cautious, until the night where Joshua finally slipped inside him.

Adrien really didn't know what to expect, as they were just two foxes exploring what felt good to them, and that night as Joshua bucked hot and heavy into his ass, his bushy tail pinned between them, Adrien couldn't help but gasp and shudder, grabbing paw fulls of the sheet. The bed rocked back and forth, his stomach and chest pressed into the mattress with each of Joshua's solid thrusts, and as sweat dripped from his sable fur to pool in the sheets, something hot and wet flooded into him. Adrien almost couldn't feel his own spurts into the bedding underneath him over the slippery, rubbing sensations deep inside his preteen body.

And yet the next night, when Adrien pressed up against Joshua's naked backside, his cousin spun around in bed and snarled, clawing at him, foamy spittle flying from his snapping muzzle. Despite the deeps wounds, Adrien attempted to confront his cousin about his sudden change a few nights later.

His father came running when he heard the loud commotion in their bedroom, and separated the two foxes. It was only after Adrien's uncle conceited to giving Joshua the spare attic room did things improve between them. For the last ten years, Adrien and Joshua had slept under the same roof, occasionally sneaking between Adrien's sheets behind a locked door, while Gabe was tied up into late night paperwork at the office.

It had been their little secret.

But even after ten years Adrien still couldn't read his cousin, deceptively calm one moment, lashing out in violent, sexual outbursts the next. Their classmates never saw these outbursts, and Adrien wondered why he alone brought out this different, monstrous side to his cousin. And yet Adrien weathered the frenzied tempests, for the incestuous siren of Joshua's body, so much like his own, called to him. After only a few years, the oceans of months between each surreptitious union only added to the longing for more sweaty, carnal kindred bonding.

Adrien cherished every fleeting moment his budding, needful teenage body rubbed, bucked against Joshua's.

Lost in forbidden memory, caught up in the throes of hedonistic passion, Adrien could not hear the front door open and close downstairs over his own primal grunts and moans. The black canid rolled over onto his back, the bright red flesh of his hard fox cock jutting up out of its protective sheath, a steady stream of pre leaking from the vertical slit to run down the vein crossed flesh. The rough pads of his right paw encircled his sensitive member, and just a few torturous, shallow strokes illicited a deep seated moan from between his barely parted muzzle lips, his body arching up to meet them.

His other paw ran down his chest, past his taught stomach, to clutch at his furry sacs, which only seemed to throb in his needful grasp. His index claw dipped down to gently scape the flexing ring of quivering muscle at his tail hole, the stimulation only fueling the need for more, deviant sensations. Adrien reached down at the side of the mattress and plucked up the Gates of Hell, examining its design, before sliding the largest ring down past the tapered canid tip of his glans.

The next series of rings proved to be more difficult, and with much difficulty, Adrien eased the tight rings down upon his engorged sex, the polished iron clamping down on it in a unforgiving embrace. The last ring illicit a whine of pain from the black fox, before it popped into place just at his tip. The exotic sensations it sent coursing through Adrien's body made his mind swim, this previously uncharted territory of self punishment and reward dumbing his dull thoughts yet ensnaring his eager senses.

His other black paw drifted down to clutch the curved iron rod with sequentially sized bulbs, and he slid the tip of it along his wet cock slit, smearing it with his own pre. Adrien's muzzle lips tightened together in a grimace as he placed the slick metallic tip up tight against his pucker, before shoving it just inside his tight tail ring.

His cry of pleasure carried far, even downstairs to a set of similar looking, perked, black vulpine ears. Adrien took his sweet time, letting his tight walls acclimate to the girth of the device in his paw, before sliding it deeper inside himself. As the rounded tip rolled over his prostrate, the black fox arched his back and groaned out, a gout of pre squirting into the air.

Peals of ecstasy resounded throughout the room as Adrien drove the iron dildo deeper and deeper, the tight heat of his ass swallowing each hard bulb with ravenous need. His insides burned, tempering the heights of bliss with an edge of pain, each keeping each other in check. Adrien's body rolled and pitched, his muscles tightening and relaxing in synchronous, deviant rapture, a light sheen of sweat now covering his fur. While the uncompromising embrace of the Gates of Hell contained his engorged fox cock, the orb of his knot swelled between the last two rings, the metal digging into the tender flesh.

Adrien's free paw roamed up and down his body, his rough paw pads gliding over his sweat and musk filled fur, finding new areas of his eager flesh to tease, to evoke. His black muzzle lips parted in small barks of primal heat as he pumped the iron dido in and out of himself, the bulbs rubbing over his quivering prostrate, the unbelievable sensations making his eyes seal shut.

The hedonistic fox never heard the door to the bedroom open over his own squeals of approaching climax.

A sudden shift of the mattress made Adrien's eyes shoot open, and he found himself nose to nose with his cousin. Caught in the act of lewd trespassing, Adrien's breath froze in his lungs, his brown eyes scanning the set of green ones just past his muzzle for any indication of what the unpredictable fox might do. He stared at those hard eyes for a few long moments, before his eyes dropped down to glance at the fox's body now almost pinning him down to the blood stained mattress. A soft gasp of surprise escaped Adrien's parted muzzle lips as he realized Joshua was naked; his only accessory was his omnipresent horn rimmed glasses.

Now so close, Joshua's familiar scent overcame Adrien's flared nostrils. Although the recent downpour had muted, washed much of his own natural scent away, Adrien could still smell the lingering, pungent whiff of cougar sex on him. Although Adrien never took metal shop, he had passed the instructor enough in the hallways to place the scent. First his school's star running back, and now the metal shop instructor. Was his cousin turning into a little whore, methodically taking the entire school, one at a time? The thought sent a envious flare of jealousy through his heat flushed body.

Adrien couldn't bear the thought of not having Joshua breed with him a moment longer, and his needful paws pulled his cousin down against him. As the wet furred forms of two teen aged black foxes touched, their slim, almost identical, hot vulpine bodies quivered against each other with the sacred, tactile relief of first contact.

And it was good.

Joshua's hot exhale ruffled the short fur of Adrien's chin, moments before their moist, black muzzle lips locked together. A tandem set of vulpine tongues lashed, fought, in the confines of their intertwined muzzles, all manner of dark emotion fueling this primal dance. Jealousy. Betrayal. Guilt. Want. All of them churning together, funneled, whipped into a lust hazed frenzy. Joshua's vibrant green eyes closed behind his glasses, and his body pressed hard into Adrien's, his paw pads freely roaming about the slender chest pinned underneath him. Adrien arched up into his cousin's hungry form, the Gates of Hell scraping the underside of his lower stomach and sheath.

Adrien's paw slipped between their rain soaked, furry bodies, till his paw pads gripped the slick tip of his cousin's own tapered fox tip. Joshua's breath fluttered out of his partially open muzzle, his slim, black vulpine form shuddering atop the other fox's almost identical one. Joshua leaned back a bit, letting his cousin's deft and skilled paws roam about his chest. The sharp canid claws sought out the taught nubs of his nipples hidden under the fur, and the cleft of his rump rubbed over the iron rings encircling the hard, swollen shaft encircling them.

Joshua opened his eyes and looked down at his cousin, who rocked his slender hips upward to meet the introverted black fox's own animalistic gyrations. Adrien groaned out as a jet of pre spurted out just behind Joshua's furry sacs, his now slip, fretted and sensitive canid cock gliding over that tiny tuft of fur just below Joshua's tail hole. Joshua grim green eyes looked down at the eager flesh underneath him, and without saying a word, reached down with a paw and took his cousin's entrapped, slick length, and placed it back a bit. As Adrien's pre smeared glans pressed against his flexing entrance, the tight ring gave slightly, and Adrien's sensitive slit slid just inside his cousin.

Both foxes groaned in unison, their eager flesh hungry for more.

As the first iron ring met Joshua's tight, slightly dilated rosebud, the sable vulpine gave a slight growl as the metal scraped his entrance, before slipping inside with a slight slurp. Joshua's back arched as inch after sacred inch slid into his tight fox heat, Adrien bucking up slightly up inside his cousin, wanting nothing more right this moment to breed with him. Each time Joshua pressed down, the broken, blood and cum stained mattress almost swallowed the outline of Adrien's teenage body, a heavier sheen of sweat matting down the fur of his back with each upward thrust.

The next ring stopped tight up against Joshua's pucker just as the his cousin's bound, fleshly tip teased his already swelling prostrate. Joshua's muzzle lips gritted together as he forced himself down upon the caged fox flesh, the metallic ring popping inside him, ripping his entrance with a spike of pain. Joshua's eyes fluttered backwards and he yowled to the ceiling, taking his cousin deeper and deeper inside himself. A sudden gush of warmth flooded in Joshua's tight silk, and Adrien himself slid into the muscular depths much easier, the passage now slicked with life giving blood.

One of Adrien's paws slid down Joshua's taught, quivering stomach, before his rough paw pads gripped the hard, bobbing length before him, and on instinct, leaned forward to lick up the tasty bead of pre that had formed in Joshua's slit. Joshua's now slippery entrance met the final set of rings that bound Adrien's pulsing knot in between, and the two foxes locked lust frenzied gazes before grinding their hips more into each other. The sudden squeeze on Adrien's bulbous knot made him scream in pleasure, before it popped into the other black fox's, hot, slick depths.

As the two cousins tied, the pleasured yips and wails of their incestuous coupling echoed within the stagnant, decrypt room.

Hearkened, a demon within the puzzle box now sitting on the leather trunk stirred, and the Lament Configuration re-arranged. Too caught up in the raptures of Joshua's flesh, Adrien took no notice of the banal rondo now emanating from the now transformed puzzle box next to the mattress. As Joshua rode his cousin, he tried to block out the demeaning whispers in his head.

Thats right you little Serin, revel in it. Whimper like the little bitch you are as you ride that cock. The misshaped shadow in the corner sneered. I should have know this would be where you wound up. In your cousin's lap. Needed more of what I gave you, isn't that right?

The Quasimodo of a fox stepped out from deepest shadow, his twisted hind legs stumbling, lurching for balance. Tufts of matted fur spread over his dry, stretched skin, bald in some spots. His once bushy tail twitched in spasms, herald to the misfunctional nervous system.

Armel's dark, hunched form fell from the shadows hiding it, his front paws barely catching his distorted vulpine bulk before it slammed into the worn floorboards. His labored wheezing blew past malformed muzzle lips, one slightly bigger ear pitching back and forth from unheard sounds. Joshua tried to shut his eyes, and not stare at the monster before him, mocking him. Each time he gave into his carnal nature, this monster from his past never ceased to haunt him.

Why did his father seem so real now, not a spectral vapor, or psychological vision?

Don't hide from the truth you little Merde, you want this more than your little ocelot friend. Couldn't just wait for me the next night could you? Had to feel up your little friend, didn't you? Joshua could not escape the sudden flush of lust and guilt that flooded through his guts, now being massaged by Adrien's thick, pulsing shaft. The demon fox's words bit into Joshua, and sometimes overcame him. Sometimes he lashed out, at the only tangible fox within paws reach.

Adrien.

And sometimes like now, his desecrated father's words only increased the mind numbing sensation of the ring bound knot pulling at his insides, rubbing in tight circles right on the hard bulge of his prostrate. As his cousin started jerking his throbbing knot bobbing before his muzzle, Joshua could feel the pressure in his furry sacs build, and the demon snarled, one lazy, white eye going mad with envy.

Thats right you little fuck, blow your little deviant load all over your cousin's muzzle. Make ... Daddy ... PROUD!!!

Joshua grunted at those words, bucking up and down as much as the tie would allow, and his muzzle lifted to the ceiling, a protracted growl tearing itself out of his wide open muzzle. Thick ropes of salty vulpine cream splashed across Adrien's parted, eager muzzle, and his canid tongue fell out to lap at the flying spurts. As the sex crazed fox rode out his orgasm on him, it made the iron cast bulbs within Adrian's ass grind into his insides, and he felt the oncoming rush of climax stir within his foxtip, still deep with his bucking cousin.

"Joshua ... " Adrien moaned out, his brown eyes glazed over in the throes of incestuous delectation, "... you don't need Raymond ... just me .."

Joshua's eyes snapped opened, the corneas black with rage.

Adrien didn't even have time ton scream before Joshua's paws snapped around his throat, and clamped down like an iron vice. The other black fox sputtered and kicked, his own sable paws futilely flying to grasp at Josh wrists. His cousin snarled, throttled Adrien, the strength in his paws building, before Joshua crushed Adrien's windpipe with a quiet slurp. Adrien's eyes went wide with pain and terror, his hind legs drumming on the tattered mattress, the oncoming rush of oxygen deprivation driving his body into a fit of frantic, last ditch strain.

His lungs screamed. His blood boiled. His hardness started to spurt in frenzy as his body clenched down around itself.

The enraged fox snatched the puzzle box from the top of the leather trunk and brought the mishapped cube down hard upon the skull of the fox struggling underneath him. The sudden crack of metal against bone boomed around the dingy, pealing walls, another sick noise soaking into the memory of the plaster. The fox's hind legs jerked, and Joshua brought the blood smeared box up high above his head, before slamming it down again and again.

Crack. Crack. Crick. Klurp.

As the stricken fox's brain case gave, his hind paws twitched and spasmed, and Joshua felt a sudden, burning sensation flood his blood slickened insides as his cousin gave up his last gift to him.

Joshua chest heaved, his snarl mimicking the deformed demon in the room, this sudden sexual climax only spurring on this fury only further. He brought down the sometimes blunt, sometimes sharp, weapon in his paw again and again and again, small droplets of thick blood and gory bits of brains splattering his face and muzzle. After a while, the gush in his ass ceased, and the drum of the fox's hind feet on the mattress tapered off. Joshua panted, the muscles of his arm no longer able to pull the Lament Configuration up, and he slid off the bed, still tied to his cousin's corpse.

The black fox lurched, dragged the body still bound to his ass out the door and down the hallway, the crushed mess of its head leaving a thick trail of gray ooze and foamy crimson on the worn floorboards behind. Small patches of Joshua's fur began to recede, the flesh disintegrating on his very bones, allowing more of the darkness within to claim his body. The door to the room next door unlocked and swung open of its own accord, the now almost skeletal fox stepping into the abysmal darkness beyond, through the baroque archways of home ...

* * * * *

Gabe opened the door to his quiet home and took off his coat, hanging it up on the hooks on the wall next to him. He sniffed the air, and didn't smell any dinner cooking. The scents of both his boys, as well as Adrien's coat next to his, betrayed their presence. He stepped into the kitchen and looked around, a sudden icy daft washing over him. The adult black fox gripped his arms and shuddered, wondering where it came from. He followed the chilling current up air to the stairs, where the hint of air even more frigid lay.

"Boys?" Gabe called out.

An empty house said nothing in return; its walls mourning silent for the suffering of children, and of the sins of fathers.

Gabe's hind paw took a step up the staircase, and suddenly thought better of it. He chided himself for such cowardice. And yet deep down he could not help but feel that something had gone horribly wrong. The black fox took another step, despite the growing haunt of dread creeping up his vulpine spine. With each step, boom of his heart overcame the once comforting silence of his own home.

When he reached the second floor, he had to pause to rub his arms against the bitter bite blowing down from the attic floor. The sheer sensation of the cutting wind, more than a simple breeze now, almost made him unconsciously opened the hallway closet door to look for a thick winter coat. He shook his head and stormed up the stairway, less from heroism and more from blind panic.

He stopped at the attic floor and watched in disbelief at the heavy drifts of snow blowing out of the open storage room. His shaking, amber eyes spied the icy trail of dark ice leading from Joshua's open room to the source of the polar gale, which now rippled his business suit and tore the warm breath from his lungs.

The crimson trail had frozen solid, and yet the scent of death lingered on it. Gabe lumbered down the hallway, pushing past the tempest of swirling flakes, until he flung himself into the doorway of that once lead to his attic storage. Nothing could be more frightening than facing the ugly memories his family line had tried to hide; the secrets that his brother had traveled far and wide to reclaim, savoring each ghastly puzzle of arcanum.

The frozen blasts that scoured the arctic wastes of the ninth layer tore at his fur and skin. He looked up in horror at the terrible sights around him from his paws and knees, the screech of the glacial gale deafening him. All the secrets of his ancestors laid bare before him; the lies, the cover ups, the secrets between generations after LeMarchand's killing spree.

He watched his nephew, now inhabited by the skeletal Xolotl, the Aztecan psychopomp, fuck the headless corpse of his own son from behind. Beyond them, his brother, Armel sneered at him, and past that, the real mechanisms behind this awful moment; The Dark Angel of Suffering, the Cenobite Pinhead, who was known to the Aztecs as Xipe Totec. Behind him, the Trickster Demon, the Cenobite known to the Aztecs as Ueuecoyotl, snickered and devoured a screeching bird while beating madly upon a drum. This mad god could not orchestrate such a well structured plan on his own, and behind him, the chitinous alien form of the Engineer clicked its scorpion-like pincher tail and listened intently for the dark, unconscious intents of his slumbering Lord behind him, Leviathan.

Blueish black beams of pulsating light shimmered from the black, segmented diamond like creature beating at the Heart of Hell. The Lord of the Evening Star, Xolotl, once held a miniature version in his outstretched, cadaverous digits some five hundred years ago. The beams of pulsing, blueish black light ran coursed over the arctic Mountains of Madness, a blind, sleepless inner eye yearning for some universal want.

One such beam fell across Gabe's outreached paw, the frozen flesh and fur disintegrating before his very eyes, leaving nothing but the unmoving, bleached white bones of his paw. He screamed; more appalled than in pain, as Leviathan's need had taken all his tactile flesh, and the nerves within. As the tempest around him carried off his cry of terror on an uncaring, bitter wind, Gabe looked to his brother Armel, and realized that he could have done something to prevent this, but didn't. Leviathan stood just at the Gates in dreamless slumber, awaiting the crafty, puzzle solving paws of one single, black fox to bring Hell to Earth.

This was his last thought as one of Leviathan's meandering beams fell across his muzzle and face ...

~ Fin Part IV ~

Has this twisted series become clearer to you Sprocket? We have only three chapters left. Are you as eager as I am? Do you thirst to see what happens to Jessica? Are you curious to know what Raymond will do once a certain black fox gets his paws on him? Does the thought of the long wait for this forbidden knowledge make your black heart heavy, your eyes water?

Please. No tears.

It's a waste of good suffering.