The Klemens House.

Submitted into Contest #215 in response to: Set your story in a haunted house.... view prompt

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Fiction Horror LGBTQ+

This story contains sensitive content

Trigger warning for the content ahead includes mental health, physical violence, gore, sexual violence, and abuse.


Mr. Kenneth K. Klemens first built the house after marrying his wife, Rebecca. He got the land dirt cheap off of a farmer of the land. Nothing ever grew there. Farmer Rick had no use for it, and luckily Mr. Klemens had no plans of starting a farm. Kenneth and Rick of them grew to be fast friends afterward.


They soon found that part of the barren land problem belongs to boars trampling through the acres. Though Kenneth didn't plan to farm, he hated the filthy animals ruining the soil on his land. He shot them, using every part of the animals, the parts he didn't he sold. He kept the largest boar's head hung on the wall, then gun he used to shoot it retired beneath.


Rebecca soon after had her first child and named her Honeydew after her favorite flowers. Mr. Klemens smoked more and drank to cope with the lack of sleep. The tobacco helped him ground himself in moments of exhaustion. The alcohol made him, as he described it, more 'passionate' and 'in touch with his emotions'. By the time Honeydew could crawl, Rebecca was pregnant with her second child.


By the time K. K. Jr. was born, Mr. Klemens knew he would have to make more money to support them. He experiments and found that bringing new soil onto the land and having them in pots allowed a plant to grow, but only cotton plants and Honeydews. Rebecca planted a garden in front of the house.


After Rebecca died giving birth to Bernard Klemens, Mr. Klemens had little hope for him. Scrawny from premature birth, Mr. Klemens refused to feed him through his first winter, taking upon all the other duties her mother did. She cooked and cleaned, and in the spring, she went grocery shopping and tended to the garden; the melons seemed to shrivel without a true mother’s touch.


Once the boys were old enough to walk, Mr. Klemens put them to work in the cotton fields, plucking row after row of the plant, getting cut more often than not.


“Jr. picks up the pace!”


Mr. Klemens shouted at K.K. who picked up the pace, digging his fingernails into his palms. The alternative was worse than his muscles aching a little more than they already did.


Honeydew knew the perfect times to put out dinner, getting everything on the table just before sunset. She would stand on the porch where her mother stood, watching the winter sunset, and just as it dipped below the treeline she would ring the bell hanging by the door. Signaling the end of work for the day and time for dinner.


Mr. Klemens—never Father—would remind Jr. of their eternal connection through name and blood during their copious fights at the dinner table. Most nights these fights lead to him storming out of the house. Only to resume when he eventually returned. On a rare occasion, K.K. would run into the forest skipping dinner entirely to meet Austen in secret.


During those spans of time, when K.K. wasn’t within shouting range, Mr. Klemens tried to toughen Bernard up. Beating him and wrestling with him, leading to multiple bruises and broken bones.

Once K.K. came home, sometimes earlier, Honeydew would put Bernard to bed and ready herself. She opened her window, feeling the cooler winter air. She left it open every night, despite the winter winds growing stronger. She hoped to give K.K. a discrete entrance to the house.


Tonight he didn’t come back before Mr. Klemens came to tuck her in. Honeydew wore many of the responsibilities of Klemens house, all her mother’s duties included. Though she dreaded his visits the most. Kenneth K. Klemens Jr. climbed through the open window just as Mr. Klemens finished his husbandly privileges, howling as he did so until he saw the look of shock on Jr.'s face.


Mr. Klemens grabbed K.K. by the ear, pulling up the pants from around his ankles, unloosing his belt as he leered at Jr.


Mr. Klemens beat Jr. till his ass was rough, raw, and bloodied. Honeydew watched in horror, flinching at every thwack. K.K. refused to tell Pops where he went. Mr. Klemens broke two of Jr's ribs as he kicked his side, leaving the boy wheezing for air, tears streaming from his face.


This was not the first time Mr. Klemens had caught K.K. crawling through Honeydew’s window, only the first where K.K. caught Mr. Klemens.


Most nights it didn’t happen right in front of her. She sometimes could fall asleep before Mr. Klemens stopped. Even rarer than that, Mr. Klemens may let her sleep. Most nights he woke her up with angry unprovoked and under-lubricated thrusts.


After all his children were in bed, he would go down to the basement, locking the door behind him. He never returns until sunrise.


The next night, K.K. ran into the forest before dinner. Mr. Klemens—Never Pops—followed him with the baseball bat leaning against the front porch.


Bernard and Honeydew pack bags as fast as they can. Bernard took the extra measure of grabbing Mr. Klemens’ gun from the mantle below his prize deer's head.


He did in fact, but only after he saw Rick's kid on all fours face contorted in pleasure while Jr. knelt behind Austen, thrusting with a grin on his face.


Mr. Klemens tore the two away from each other. He focused his furry into Austen, forcing Jr. to hear the cracks of the boy's bones underneath the swing of the bat. See the bones protruding in unnatural angles. Forcing Jr. to answer Austen’s pleas as to ‘Why are you doing this?’


“Because we're faggots.” K.K. would answer through sobs. Austen asked so many times. He pleaded with Mr. Klemens for mercy and explanation, but he is a ruthless man. The beating continued until Austen finally stopped asking and then stopped breathing.


Mr. Klemens then swung once at Jr. knocking him unconscious, dragging his body the three miles back to the house. He took the unconscious Kenneth Klemens down the stairs while Bernard hid under the kitchen table. Honeydew dug up her mother's garden to get her mother’s wedding band.


Mr. Klemens bound Jr. a table. Red blood pooled from his temple from a baseball bat dent. His dizzying vision slowly came together. Next to him lay an embalmed body, dressed in a wedding gown.


The woman's skin was a strange green color. Kenneth kissed Rebecca's body, her skin flaking off at his touch. He moaned as he broke the embrace of her lips, leaving them wet with his saliva before ascending the stairs. Each step creaked under his weight.


Bernard stood on the other side of the door, gun aimed and cocked. The door swung open.


“Well, look who finally grew some ba—”


“This is for Honeydew!”


BANG!


A gunshot to his crotch.


He fell back, tumbling down the stairs.


Bernard, now on the stairs, sees his mother and brother lying on the tables.


“And this is for K.K.!”


BANG!


The basement walls were painted with the splattered remains of Mr. Klemens, his blood a sick shade of grey.


Honeydew grabbed Bernard, shoving him up the creeky basement steps.


Bernard dropped the gun at the top of the stairs while Honeydew bolted the door. Together they moved as much furniture as they could to barricade the door.


They sprinted outside to fresh white powder culminating on the ground, the first snow of the season. Snowflakes fell like white flower petals gently flowing to the ground.


They passed a mangled, half-naked corpse. The less-than-fresh blood stained the snow red. Bernard knew the caved-in skull belonged to his lover and he cried as they marched on, unsure of where to call home.

September 08, 2023 17:08

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