Beneath Her Flesh

Written & edited by Amnoartist

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Note: Beneath Her Flesh is a dark horror-themed series with a focus on story and characterisation. Eroticism will likely play a part where appropriate for the plot's benefit and advancement or delving deeper into the characters themselves. There will be no sex just for the sake of it being there. The chaarcters that DO partake in sexual intercourse throughout this series are all aged 23 or older The themes in this series include but are not limited to: mystery/thriller; incest/incest pregnancy; autism; murder; cannibalism & gore. With this all taken into account, go in with a relatively open-mind and enjoy :)

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Despite its name, Summerstone Medical Institution was far from inviting. Frankly, most of its patients were highly dangerous individuals liable to kill out of some sort of twisted sexual impulse than submit to those thought to help them get better and live stable lives. The fact of the matter was, 'futility' was a word commonly heard in the establishment. The interior certainly didn't help things; plaster from the walls peeling away like skin from an onion, revealing the grimy insides, a patch of what could only be piss dried crudely in the middle of the floor. Kimberly didn't care for that though, casually reaching into her jumper pocket to pull out the packet of cigarettes she snuck in, clearly breaking the hospital's regulations. But then, Kimberly wasn't one for respecting the rules anyway.

The cigarette lit, she leaned back on the chair to ease herself into relaxation, trying to drown out the moans from further down the hallway, not to mention ignore the incessant stares from the patient opposite her. Kimberly hated it when people stared at her like there was something wrong as if they saw something she couldn't. Or maybe it was just the paranoia from all the drugs she took. Whatever the case, it always made her feel uneasy, and ironically, feel right at home in a place such as Summerstone. She didn't even know the place existed until yesterday, like her sister Ivy. Admittedly, Kimberly preferred it if she could forget all that happened yesterday and just stay at home, sell to her customers and inject herself into a high. But no, for some reason Kimberly was compelled to see the sibling she didn't even know existed, whether they were a mental case or not.

The clock struck nine. That meant she'd been waiting for a little over thirty minutes now and her most loyal customer would've been at her door ten minutes ago, probably rattling and desperate for another bag. Damn it, he'd just have to wait. The problem though, was that some serious competition for Kimberly was on the rise. Sure, she had the purest drugs at the cheapest price, but there was word on the street that this opposing supplier had new stuff like Blitz and Jinx. Those weren't easy to make, so whomever this rising peddler was, they clearly had someone working for them who knew that sort of stuff, which put Kimberly in a hard spot. To counter, she could put her prices down, thus selling more, but that didn't necessarily mean ends would meet.

Looking at the clock again, she sighed, irritation finally set in. Out of everything that would transpire out of the fateful first meeting with her younger sibling, Kimberly hoped it was just worth the wait.

Before long, a security guard peeked around the corner with a less-than-enthused expression, hard to determine whether it was born out of the collective depressive environment or Kimberly's clear lack of respect for the rules. "This way, please."

///

Ivy blinked, the sun bursting through the blinds to pierce her eyes as she sat on the edge of the bed looking out to the characteristically dismal air of Black Peak, the mousy blonde only seeing as much as the T-junction directly outside the hospital, everywhere else nothing to her but grey-black smudges in the distance. Given she didn't remember much of Black Peak, Ivy wouldn't know where to go beyond the junction. Simply put, in as much of the fact it was a mental institution, she felt safe in Summerstone and it was her home. She even made friends there, as few in number as they were.

As the door leading into the private room creaked open, Ivy flinched. She hated loud noises. That plus the fact she rarely spoke, generally avoided eye contact and mostly kept to herself gave the Institution's doctors cause to diagnose her as autistic. Moaning, she rubbed her ear as Doctor King, a man well into his fifties entered, frowning at having to see Ivy physically cringe and curl up into a ball. Being one of the few friends she had, King and Ivy got along pretty well together.

"Sorry dear, I'll get one of the servicemen to look at that tomorrow." It was almost second-nature for King to sit at the chair in the corner, knowing Ivy liked her space. In the years they were together, King had come to understand Ivy better than any of the other doctors in the establishment. Be that as it may, he was always wary and never dropped his guard. Ivy didn't even bother to look at him, staring at the floor blindly. King didn't mind. His legs crossed, he smiled. "Your sister's waiting for you in the visitor's room."

Ivy turned to face the doctor as if to acknowledge him, if only for a moment before looking back out the window silent as a mute, having second doubts about the meeting she previously agreed to during her rare moments of communication. What would Kimberly think of her? Did she even know or care? Twiddling her thumbs, Ivy sighed.

"You're nervous, I know. I imagine Kimberly would feel the same, in a way, about to meet the sister she had no idea existed." King continued observing Ivy scratch her wrist nervously, not to mention look back again, this time long enough for him to look back at her piercing blue irises. "There's absolutely nothing to worry about."

Ivy shook her head. In as much of the fact it probably wouldn't be revealed verbally, the young woman had a different opinion in regards to the good doctor's statement. Had he forgotten what happened? Or did he choose to ignore it?

"What happened in the past was an accident. Bob forgave you for it. You're better now." King knew Ivy's attitude was shifting to something more positive. He could see it in her actions; she was less stiff, loosening out of the fetal position she threw herself into when the door creaked open. "If you're lucky, Kimberly may come with a gift."

Its joints creaking, Ivy pushed herself up and off the bed to turn and face King, revealing swollen chesticular muscles underneath the plain white shirt and tight black shorts, allowing her pillar-thick quads and globular calf muscles to casually jut out, brilliant pink socks over the dainty feet that contrasted the blonde's comparatively hulkish form.

"Good girl," King encouraged.

///

Heaving a conclusive breath, it didn't take Kimberly long to plough through her third cigarette in wait at the visiting room Its standards were in any form no higher than the rest of the institution. Frankly, the grungy texture surrounding the impatient girl brought her close to regurgitating. Or perhaps the chemical imbalance of all the pills she took beforehand. It was by divine miracle alone she wasn't high as a kite.

Crossing her legs under the table, the moment of truth had come for Kimberly, putting the cigarette out in sync with the large doors in front spreading open like angels' wings to, at first, the good Doctor King before the tall...creature behind him took precedence, long blonde hair draped over its face to hide what laid underneath as if there was something to hide. Naturally, the stark contrast between this thing and her forced Kimberly to reassess the situation. This was a mental institution, so there was no reason to think the sibling she had was a cold-hearted killer. But the relaxed posture from King intimated otherwise. Even so, it didn't stop Kimberly from sinking further into the seat in fear, taking note of everything the tall monstrous thing had, from vascular quadriceps to a neck rivalling that of a prized bull. There was no way in hell this was Ivy.

The chair creaking, she sat opposite, saying nothing and predictably choosing to stare blankly at the diminutive and pasty-skinned brunette that had to be her older sister. The thick blonde mane parted, Ivy's eyes came into view just enough for Kimberly to see their distinctive piercing blue irises, a painfully beautiful contrast to her otherwise dim hazels. The silence between both sisters was long and harsh, almost deafening if not for the incessant screams from behind the hall. This triggered a flinch from Ivy.

"You must be Ivy." In as much of the fact it was unfortunate, Kimberly was met with silence, Ivy being too arguably interested in patterns on the brunette's leather boots to care for even a single word in reply. Truth be told, Kimberly was used to that sort of thing anyway. "I'm Kimberly, your older sister. Don't think it would be all that fair of me to call myself the 'big' sister."

Kimberly's joke fell flat, forcing her to look to Doctor King for guidance. He initially was of the mind to help break the ice, but ultimately decided against it in knowing the siblings would have to do so on their own terms, even if it would be difficult on Ivy's part. He sat close by at the opposite table with a clipboard and pen, no doubt taking notes of her etiquette. Admittedly, he expected the young woman to loosen up a bit around her sister. He wasn't expecting drastic changes, but enough to know she wasn't a lost cause.

On the other side of the fence was, of course, Kimberly. She hadn't given much thought to how was best to start a conversation with her long-lost sister, if the thing before her truly was Ivy. Twiddling her thumbs, Kimberly sighed.

"Yeah, so Mum's dead." Her choice of topic may have been heartless, but that's the way Kimberly was, practically self-raised on account of the lack in nurturing she needed from a mother-figure. That was Black Peak in a nutshell. Ivy offered a quick glance in response before returning to the more interesting patterns in Kimberly's boots. "Don't know if you knew that already, but there you go."

Clearly, things weren't going as planned. But then, Kimberly really didn't care that much anyway, here for other reasons, which, conveniently, had Ivy at the centre. Despite that, she was willing to play along, pulling the packet of cigarettes out her jacket pocket and offering them to the behemoth blonde. Unsurprisingly, Doctor King was quick to object.

"I don't think—"

Kimberly scoffed. The guy ought to live a little. Life was too short to have to live by rules. Shaking the pack, Kimberly implored Ivy to take the cigarette seemingly poking out enough to tease her. And the suggestion in her eyes implied she was tempted, not to mention the snaring words from Kimberly, like she was the Devil himself. "You live in a shitty place like Black Peak long enough, you're gonna start smoking eventually. Makes no sense not to start now."

Seeing Ivy's hand linger near the pack of cigarettes, Doctor King was beginning to have second thoughts about this arranged meeting between the two sisters. Kimberly's comment about their mother being dead? As insensitive as it was, it was fine. Ivy knew that already. But the line in the sand for King was when Kimberly tried to coerce Ivy into smoking. He'd spent God knows how long teaching the woman the principles of right and wrong, only for them to nearly be scuppered by the simple shake of a packet of cigarettes. Despite that, King maintained professionalism and opted to give Kimberly a light scolding instead. "I don't think your mother—"

Kimberly slammed the cigarettes down, flattening them so the powdered tobacco spilt across the table. Ivy flinched, gripping the edges of the bench in fear, legs curled to suggest bunching up into a ball. Kimberly noticed this but didn't give a shit. "My mother was a cunt who hated the fact I lived. She only carried me to term because she wanted to spite my bastard father, which is ironic because she clearly ended up having another kid without my knowing. Not that she fucking gave a shit. Probably doesn't even now, at six feet under."

Ivy tried to focus on the patterns bedecking Kimberly's boots, doing anything to drown out her anger, an emotion that always seemed to just cut through the large girl like a knife through hot butter. But the seemed the brunette was far from finished, catching her pointing from the corner of her eye.

"You're lucky to not know what Mum was like. She might've carried you to term like me, but for some fucking reason..." Kimberly's glare intensified, perhaps for nothing but the dramatic effect or that anger had reached a semblance of boiling point. Either way, it was only now Ivy had decided to give her sister undivided attention. "...she preferred you."

Nervous, Ivy bit her lip. She wanted to tell Kimberly she liked her leather boots, having not seen anything like them before, but didn't know the right words to use. Pretty? But then, Ivy didn't know how Kimberly would react to realizing there wasn't as much interest in knowing how their mother acted as in a pair of boots.

Despite that, things seemed to just suddenly change. Kimberly's anger subsided in sync with a definitive breath, wiping tears from her cheeks. Kimberly needed those tears to come out; it had been months since they were first bottled up, long before her mother passed. "But I will take you home with me because, despite our sisterhood, we've got one thing in common—"

Doctor King's brow curled curiously, Ivy twiddling her thumbs.

"—No one."

///

Ivy didn't think she'd ever reach this moment in her life, to be literally just a few feet away from the Institute's main door, Kimberly and Doctor King at either side, the medical practitioner offering more helping than the blonde's older sibling. In as much of the fact she'd dreamed of this moment of finally gaining freedom, Ivy was nervous, which was reasonable to understand given Kimberly's earlier words of determent. Regardless, the doctor urged her on as Kimberly's lack of patience became further evident. The big thing that was her sister sure was taking her sweet time.

Brushing past her, Kimberly stormed off into the car park, leaving Ivy to wonder if her having done that was her fault, to think that she'd done something wrong. Doctor King was shocked to see Kimberly abandon her sister so easily, yet didn't go after her for fearing Ivy might freeze from sudden loneliness. That said, he knew this would be difficult for Kimberly; her own problems sandwiched between recognizing the existence of a long-lost sister and the death of their mother ought not to be easy to handle.

"It's just hard on her, that's all," King soothed Ivy.

Before long, the unmistakable screech of tires filled the musky day air as Kimberly's car a black Volkswagen Beetle, sharply turned the corner to park outside the Institute's doors, Ivy predictably winced and dropped her suitcase to cover her ears, the contents floating gently across the carpet with the gentle wind. As Doctor King crouched to gather her stuff, clothes, a couple of good luck cards from the nurses and more competent patients and a curious magazine. Kimberly peeked out from the window as it was rolled down. She clearly flaunted the thought that if Ivy couldn't go to the car, it would be brought to her. "You getting in or what?"

Handing her the suitcase, Doctor King smiled, confident in Ivy's ability to do well in the world beyond Summerstone. She was one of the rare cases in individuals who showed genuine signs of improvement after being admitted. King just hoped Kimberly wouldn't be a bad influence and undo all his work. "You'll be fine."

You'll be fine. Upon hearing those words, most individuals would feel a sense of confidence in themselves and smile, if even just slightly. But Ivy was different. Ivy, being Ivy, stood in silence for a moment as if in hesitance, looking at the good doctor before simply walking on and out of the Institute, putting her life as a patient behind her. It wouldn't be remiss of King to feel even a tinge of emotion fill him as Ivy left, given they'd spent so long together. But clinging on wouldn't help things, which explained why he parted just as soon as she did.

Ivy hadn't been in a car before. Or at least, she couldn't remember the last time she was in one. Were they always this small? This loud? It didn't help that Kimberly had heavy rock music blasting at full volume. Ivy wanted to, had to cover her ears, but didn't want compromise the unpredictable integrity of the suitcase's lock, unable to imagine how irritated her sister would be if all her belongings spouted onto the floor.

Not that she had much of a choice.

Jerking forth when the car rolled over the Institute's speed bump, the suitcase's lock saw fit to spring loose and expel the contents within.

"Aw, for fuck—" Kimberly screeched to a halt, watching as Ivy, overcome with shock, frantically fumbled around to fish her belongings from the floor; some articles of clothing, shoes and a couple of Get Well cards from the nurses and more competent patients. Though perhaps the most interesting item recovered was a magazine that looked to be at least a couple of years old. A blonde woman in a bikini bedecked the front presented in a crab most muscular pose. Kimberly watched as Ivy shoved her clothes into the suitcase, forced into pressing down on it to keep the latch from springing again.

Stressed out, Kimberly reached for the pack of cigarettes in her jacket pocket and lit one, rolling the window down slightly to ventilate. Ivy offered knowing glances as the unmistakable grey smoke billowed from the end.

"Shouldn't smoke when you're driving."

Kimberly glanced derisively.