Junkyard Rat

Peter Hopkins watched from a makeshift tunnel, of large worn out tires, as the girl, a petite little thing with brown hair so short she could easily pass for a boy, climbed grabbed the chain link fence and pulled herself up.

"Please Felicia, let's just go our usual route. Please! We'll get lost in there." Waiting just outside the fence, a slightly taller girl with longer brown hair and buds poking through her white blouse, her older sister peered into the old junk yard with bulging eyes and a grimace on her face.

Felicia held her position at the top of the and waved for her sister to follow. "Come on, Jane, it will be faster than going around. We just have to cut across, so kinda hard to get lost."

"But you never know what could be in there. I hear there are giant rats the size of dogs in there. We could get rabies. And that's if we get through before the sun sets. Jane told me that one of her cousins committed suicide in here? What if he's still wandering around here, if you know what I mean? Let's just go the normal way, please!"

The other girl reached up to grab Felicia's ankle, but she threw it over and dropped into the old abandoned junkyard before her sister could get a firm grip.

"You're thirteen, Sabrina, and you're telling me you believe in ghosts. The only thing here is old piles of rotten garbage and broken machinery. As for the rats; they'll leave you alone if you leave them alone. If not…," Felicia kicked a small rock, launching into the air. "If we don't get home quickly, mom will be pissed. That's scarier than any ghosts, giant rats, or whatever the hell could be in here. I know what I'd rather take my chances with."

Sabrina shook her head and threw up her arms. "You will never convince me to go in there. I'm going the normal way, and I really wish you would."

"If you want to be late, go ahead. But I'll be taking my shortcut. You can't stop without coming in here." Felicia stuck out her tongue and walked away from the fence. Sabrina let out a long sigh and shook her head. Sabrina lingered for several minutes, until Felicia disappeared behind a stack of tires, and continued down the street; unaware that this was the last time she would see her sister.

Peter crawled from his hiding, clutching a sledgehammer, stood up, a rugged beast of a man in his mid-40's, worn t-shirt and cargo pants, and brushed clouds of dirt from himself. *Got us a big ol' rat terday,* he thought to himself as he headed in the direction Felicia went minutes ago.

She wasn't hard to fine, as she hummed a pleasant melody that echoed loudly over the mountains of used wrappers and shattered glass. Peter, an unofficial resident of that old trash heap for longer than Felicia had been alive, navigated through the seemingly impossible maze with ease. He found her standing in front of a mound of crushed cars, attempting to pull free a rusty pipe that jutted out of the remains of an old Honda. Her back was turned, and Felicia was blissfully unaware of the man stepping closer to her. Only when he was standing over her, hammer raised high above his head, did she look up.

Felicia let out a short, high-pitched, scream, that was cut off when the hammer connected with her forehead. There was a sharp crack, and her eyes rolled back into their sockets as she fell to the ground. Blood flowed down her nostrils as she muttered unintelligible words. Peter raised the hammer again, and brought it down on her nose, shattering it. Felicia's mutterings became garbled screams, which became more erratic when the hammer struck her forehead again; this time, creating a discernable dent in her skull. Be brought it down again, and again, crushing her face. Her body thrashed wildly with each blow, and a dark wet spot grew in in the crotch of her blue jean shorts as her bladder emptied itself, until her movements stopped. He continued pounding the bloody pulp on the ground until the flesh above her neck was a grotesque puddy of blood, bone fragments, and brain tissue.

Peter wiped sweat from his forehead and tossed the hammer to the ground. He tossed the kid's still-twitchy corpse over his shoulder and carried her to his kitchen; a clearing deep in the junkyard, with old cabinets, rusty knives, plates, and other utensils scattered everywhere. At the center was a deep hole, covered by a metal grate, which served as a stove. He tossed her body on the ground next to it, and began undressing her.

Her top, a pink shirt with white spaghetti straps, came off first; lifted over her stump and tossed aside. Peter kissed each of her tiny, undeveloped, nipples, before he laid her back down. He removed her shoes, then her shorts, throwing them in a pile. Her blue panties, still soaked with her fluids, went in his pocket. He sat for a minute, gazing at the tiny prepubescent slit, glistening with droplets of urine in the orange glow of the setting sun.

"I shouldn't let this go to waste," he said to himself as he stood up. He removed his pants and underwear, tossing them aside; his erect member sprang forward, hungry for prepubescent cunt.

Peter mounted the tween's corpse and thrust his cock into her pussy; a loud grunt escaped his lips, his fat dick tearing through her much too small hole. Virginal blood poured out as he broke her hymen, but he didn't care, as his dick spread her vaginal muscles pushing through to her cervix; if she was alive, undoubtedly the little thing would have shrieked loud enough to send every rat and insect in the junkyard fleeing for their lives. Having no head, and thus no mouth or vocal cords, Felicia could only lay is silence as his overgrown dick pounded her womb. He grunted one, wolfish, grunt, as he sprayed hot semen into her cooling girlhood. When every last dropped emptied into her, he laid down next to her, and pulled her on top of himself; his hand rested on her left asscheek as he rested.

Minutes later, Peter cleaned her corpse and carved it up. Using her clothes as fire wood, he cooked her into the best feast he had in years. Unfortunately, he had to leave most of it behind, as Felicia's parents arrived with several cops ten minutes later in search of their daughter, unprepared of what they were going to find.