Till Death Do Us Part

Till Death Do Us Part

A Monster Horror Romance

RE Johnson

RE Johnson Books

Copyright © 2023 by RE Johnson

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact [email protected].

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

Book Cover by RE Johnson Books

Chapter Illustrations by RE Johnson Books

First edition 2023

Digital online ISBN: 979-8-9878911-2-4

Contents

Content Advisory

Dedication

Playlist

Part One:

The Past

1.I

1. Dommic Di Nunzio

2.II

2. Amelia Sanghera

3.III

3. Amelia Sanghera

Part Two:

The Present

4.One

4. Amelia Sanghera

5.Two

5. Dommic Di Nunzio

6. Three

6. Amelia Sanghera

7.Four

7. Dommic Di Nunzio

8.Five

8. Amelia Sanghera

9.Six

9. Dommic Di Nunzio

10.Seven

10. Amelia Sanghera

11.Eight

11. Dommic Di Nunzio

12.Nine

12. Amelia Sanghera

13.Ten

13. Dommic Di Nunzio

14.Eleven

14. Amelia Sanghera

15.Twelve

15. Dommic Di Nunzio

16.Thirteen

16. Amelia Sanghera

17.Fourteen

17. Dommic Di Nunzio

Part Three:

New Life

18.Fifteen

18. Amelia Sanghera

19.Sixteen

19. Dommic Di Nunzio

20.Seventeen

20. Amelia Sanghera

21.Eighteen

21. Dommic Di Nunzio

22.Nineteen

22. Amelia Sanghera

23.Twenty

23. Dommic Di Nunzio

24.Twenty-One

24. Amelia Sanghera

25.Twenty-Two

25. Dommic Di Nunzio

Epilogue

Amelia Sanghera

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Also By

Stalk Me

Content Advisory

Till Death Do Us Part is a dark monster horror romance with themes suited for adults and is not intended to trigger or distress anyone unprepared. As such, please be advised that it contains the following as well as other dark subjects. 

To avoid any potential spoilers, you may skip these with the understanding that this story is NOT sunshine and roses.

Read with caution and always put your mental health first. 

Themes and content include:

Extremely morally gray main characters, supernatural age gap with a 25-year-old female main character and a centuries-old monster, dubious consent/noncon, breeding, blood and saliva play, knife play, BDSM elements including restraint via tail, similarity to Dom/brat roles, and power play, primal play and stalking, cum play and drinking, anal, rimming, squirting, pain play, cock worship, edging, extra-long monster tongue, unique monster genitalia, double penetration, double vaginal penetration, and triple vaginal penetration, virgin FMC, violence and Gore, body horror, Saw-inspired tortures, Bluebeard-inspired wife unaliving and trophies, ritualistic unaliving, Christian extremists and abusive priests, sexual assault, gargoyle monster who eats people and drinks blood, human consumption of some blood, graphic depictions of sex, murder, including that of religious figures and parents, kidnapping, uterine ablation via demonic powers to eliminate fertility and demonic rituals.

To the Final Girls looking for their own vengeance when the world has failed you.

Playlist

Sex Metal Barbie- In This Moment

Gasoline- Halsey

Spin Spin Sugar- Sneaker Pimps

Whore- In This Moment 

Love You To Death- Type O Negative

Change- Deftones

Oxytocin- Billy Eilish

Devil’s Worst Nightmare- FJORA

So Wet- Elita

The Purge- In This Moment

Trance to the Sun- Velvet Fuck

Become the Lies- The Soft Moon

Godmode- In This Moment

Killer- Mareux

TELL ME WHEN I’M TELLING LIES- Vestron Vulture

Blood 1983- In This Moment

Lotta true crime - Penelope Scott

Final Girl (feat. Slayyyter)- Graveyardguy

And if you’re feeling especially saucy, just go ahead and throw this on:

https://tinyurl.com/tilldeathplaylist

Part One:

The Past

I

Dommic Di Nunzio

Your blood coagulates beautifully.

Ernest Hemmingway

1886- Italian Countryside, the mansion

Footsteps echoed through the expansive stone hall as I hunted her down. The smell of blood was thick in my nose. Tracking her was an easy task as her hurried steps spilled more blood to the floor. The knives had not treated her well.

Mariah.

I called for her with a singsong lilt as I dragged my claws across the rough bricks that made up my home. The huffing breaths leaving her exhausted body would be difficult for any mortal man to hear with her so far ahead. Still, it was nothing for a creature of stone and night and death.

The pungent aroma of her tainted blood wafted from the far chamber. To the dining room? An interesting, if detrimental, choice.

I willed to the shadow behind the hall’s curtains in a lightning strike, the storm blowing hard beyond the manse’s thick walls. Rain fell in waves from the heavy clouds, pattering against the panes of glass as I stood behind the flimsy barrier of velvet, obscuring me from Mariah’s view.

Bride. Your running will do you no good. The end is but a moment away, I spoke into her mind, and Mariah stumbled as she sprinted across the dining room’s slick marble floors. I did enjoy my meat tenderized before consuming it.

Her hands, with their broken fingernails and coating of dirt, reached for the nearest chair at my lengthy dining table, pulling herself to her feet.

Blasted creature! You will face my parents’ wrath!

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

This time, I allowed the deep malevolence of my true voice to reach her from my position behind the drapes. As another crack of lightning etched across the sky, Mariah spun to face the window, and I flung the curtain back.

She screamed, the delightful sound filling the grand expanse around us, and I flew across the floor toward her. Snatching Mariah up and breaking her right arm with a quick tug, I tore the offending white fabric from her neck, exposing my bride’s fluttering pulse point.

Your family’s corruption will end with you, Bride. Oh, and how sweet it will taste.

I struck down, sinking my fangs into her throat and tearing the flesh free. Gouts of crimson spilled over her wedding gown, soaking through the fabric until it bled onto the floor. Chewing the delectable morsel, I watched the life leave Mariah’s eyes.

Another beauty to add to the collection.

II

Amelia Sanghera

Bunch together a group of people deliberately chosen for strong religious feelings, and you have a practical guarantee of dark morbidities expressed in crime, perversion, and insanity.

H.P. Lovecraft

Fall 2015- San Domingo University, restricted private campus

Black blanketed the entirety of everything in front of me, only pinpricks of light from the dormitory windows and the rare spattering of street lamps. There really ought to be more, but apparently, San Domingo favored traditional scenery over safety.

I had a small switchblade in the pocket of my jacket, but it’s not like it would do much if I were actually put in a position to use it. The edges of my books pressed into my ribs as I squeezed them against me, and I hurried my steps. My room wasn’t far, but no matter how often I made this walk, I still hated it.

You’d think the protection of my name would give me a sense of security, but I knew better than that. My parents weren’t here, and you didn’t attend the university unless you were just as monied as I was. Private college plus douchey rich parents with copious a helping of unmonitored frat boys did not a wholesome experience make.

Chapman Hall, named for another American royalty family with most likely questionable morals, was just a few more minutes down the path. Checking the sidewalk behind me, I didn’t see any masked killers lurking. I tried to remind myself that this was a restricted campus with security, but it did nothing to assuage my concerns that Jason or Michael Myers might be just beyond the trees.

It turned out that I should have been looking forward because I ran face-first into a wall of muscle as someone stepped out onto the path just in front of me. I bounced off the tall body, landing on my ass.

Fucking hell. Shaking my head, I looked up at the looming figure. Sorry, I—

Sergius Romano smirked as his gaze raked over my crumpled form. Jasher Winslow, his partner in very real crime, stood next to him, his arm draped over Sergius’ shoulder as he chewed gum.

Jasher’s disgusting habit of loudly enjoying his fucking Double Bubble had always driven me insane, and it was particularly horrible when he and his buddy were blocking my way to the dormitory, forcing me to stare at the large bubble hanging from his lips.

You’re in a hurry. Expecting a call from Daddy? Sergius crossed his arms over his chest while neither of them made any effort to help me up.

Yeah. I need to go tell him to stop wasting money on this school. Its attendees have gone way downhill.

With a jerk of his head, Sergius gestured at me as I stood up, pulling my pleated skirt back into place and subtly checking for the knife in my suit pocket.

You hear what Miss Stuck-Up said about you, Jasher?

Thankfully, I hadn’t lost the blade when I tumbled to my ass, but I was going to hear about the tear in my skirt. Damn Sisters and their obsession with the cleanliness of these fucking school uniforms. What college requires a uniform?!

As discreetly as I could, I slipped my hand into the pocket, holding my thumb on the release mechanism.

Stuck up? Really? Like everyone here isn’t some heiress or son of a tech giant. Look, I stepped backward to walk around them, I just want to go to sleep. I’m exhausted from studying. Maybe you should go give that a try.

Jasher quickly pushed off Sergius and jabbed his head forward at me like a snake.

You saying we’re dumb?

His breath was close enough to smell the sickly sweet stench of gum, and I flinched back.

No, actually. But now that you mention it.

I didn’t finish the thought, I’d already gone too far, considering I was alone and on a dimly lit path with two of the biggest assholes on campus. Putting on my fakest, most retail-worthy smile, I held my books against my chest and made myself smaller.

Please. Just let me get past, please.

Neither of them moved, and for a second, I thought they might actually back off, but that hope was quickly dashed as Sergius whispered in my ear as I passed by.

Is it true your Daddy has someone check if you’re still a virgin?

My steps faltered as I gawked at his words. My pulse hammered, and I thought very strongly of puking right there on the walkway.

Look at her face! Jasher shouted before slinking up to my other side. "It is true. Good to know."

I ran. At least, I tried to.

But Sergius’ hands were too quick, and he grabbed my ponytail, yanking me back and tossing me to the grass. Pain bloomed in my head as it hit the earth, and my books went flying. The darkness seemed to thicken, and then Jasher was dragging me by my ankle further into its obstructive depths.

I kicked with everything I had, and I made good contact with Jasher’s hand and arms, but it didn’t slow him down. As I tried to sit up, Sergius punched me in the jaw, and my head snapped back. Landing back on the ground with a hard thump, I groped for the switchblade in my pocket.

I moved quick, whipping my arm free and flicking open the knife. I slashed the air around me until I finally made contact with Sergius’ face.

Fucking bitch!

He kicked my hand, tearing the flesh with the treads of his shoe, and the blade was wrenched from my grip. I tried to sit up again, but Jasher pulled hard on my leg until he could climb on top of me. Between the two of them, the assholes bound my arms with duct tape in a matter of moments and then tore open my shirt, using the very knife I carried to split the fabric and expose my breasts.

I’d never had much of a chest, so I usually went braless, and Sergius’ eyes stole a glance down before shoving Jasher off me.

Quite the slut, aren’t you. I tried to stand, but he caught me by my hair again. You’re probably aching for a cock in that virgin pussy of yours. But I ain’t getting caught.

His other hand went to my jaw, and I tried to bite him, but Sergius’ hand came down across my face in a hard slap.

Bring it over! This fucking cunt likes to bite!

Jasher pulled something from his back pocket, but before I could make out what it was, Sergius gripped my jaw again, his fingers digging painfully into the hollow of my cheeks.

I reflexively opened, and Jasher stuffed something between my teeth. With Sergius helping to secure it, they fitted my mouth with a gag that kept me from closing my mouth. A metal bar pushed my tongue down, and I immediately began to drool.

It was some fucking BDSM device, but these assholes were clearly not listening to the Consensual part of the credo.

And then it hit me.

They knew. They knew about my fucking dad’s checks, about the most likely consequences, and that it would take physically restraining me to get what they wanted.

They knew, and they came prepared.

Betraying tears slid down my cheeks, mixing with the spit on my chin.

Sergius grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him.

Get one thing straight, bitch. Scream all you want. No one’s coming. We get to do whatever we want, and you’re going to take it like the dumb cunt you are.

The sound of Jasher’s pants being unzipped dragged my eyes to the left.

Get fucked, Winslow. I’m not getting sloppy seconds. Sergius yanked my face back to him, his hands going to his pants.

I’d never understood what true dissociation was until that moment. The world around me melted away even as I was completely aware of each and every sensation that tormented my body. They blended into a waking nightmare, making me feel as though I’d been drugged.

Strangely focusing on the burn of Sergius’ nails on my scalp, he finished, stepping back to allow Jasher his chance, and I vomited.

My throat was raw, my gag reflex so overstimulated that I was completely empty at this point.

Gross! Now, move. It’s my turn.

Jasher gripped my head, but he didn’t last as long as Sergius. Even still, I heaved nothing as he pulled back and shoved me to my side in the grass.

Fuck yeah!

They ran off, and I stopped listening to their words.

My vomit lay in a puddle a few inches from my face, and tears from the straining choke stained my cheeks. The duct tape on my wrists was moist with sweat, and after trying for a few minutes, I was finally able to slip free.

I pulled the gag off, shoving it into my bag as evidence. But then I just sat there. I couldn’t bring myself to stand.

A twig snapped off to the side.

Hello?!

Stepping from behind a bush was another student. As she got closer, I realized it was Harper Ellison, resident Queen Bitch of San Domingo.

Please, I—

Don’t even bother, Amelia. This is University rules. The ones that don’t get published. Don’t fuck with your betters.

Rage and betrayal fought for control in my brain, leaving me a stuttering mess.

You’re-You’re really going to stand there like-like nothing happened? I could hardly speak above a whisper, thanks to the pain in my throat. I didn’t… I didn’t do anything!

It doesn’t matter what you did or didn’t do. Sanghera’s daughter was bound to get fucked once she arrived. We’ve all heard about your parents from ours. Just be glad the fucking wasn’t completely literal.

Harper walked off, leaving me beaten and bloody on the grass.

III

Amelia Sanghera

The real problem is in the hearts and minds of men. It is easier to denature plutonium than to denature the evil spirit of man.

Albert Einstein

Fall 2015- San Domingo University, faculty offices

I’d nearly broken on the lawn, but rage consumed the darkness building behind my ribs. One that demanded I tell someone what just happened. The Fathers and Sisters of San Domingo were people of the cloth, and surely at least one of them would be willing to hear me out.

I dragged myself up, aching everywhere, to the foot of the large building where the professors, Fathers, whatever, had offices. My jaw throbbed, inside and out. But it was the burn in my throat and the vile taste on my tongue that kept me heaving nothing the entire way there.

When I pushed inside the door, most of the offices were dark. Not many of the Fathers kept hours this late, but a single door showed light spilling underneath it.

In a renewed panic, I knocked frantically, smearing the blood from my torn knuckles across the wood.

Help! My voice was hoarse, like I had fucking bronchitis or something, and the scream was barely more than a whisper.

I kept pounding on the door until it suddenly opened, and I collapsed into the Father's chest.

In my hurry, I didn't pay attention to whose office it was and cringed when I found myself in Father Trubiano's arms.

Amelia?

To say that the Father and I didn't get along was a vast understatement. He taught some of the most