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Just One More Sin	By : AberrantScript Category: +G through L > The Loud House Views: 5501 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own The Loud House and make no money off this work of fiction.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Author's Notes:
I am not sure what to say about this one, so I will let it speak for itself. I think there might be one or two more chapters left to go. This story is still just as tough as ever to write. I hope you can find some enjoyment in it... if it's possible.
Reader be advised: A character goes to a clinic and thinks a long time on abortion. Rape is implicitly and explicitly depicted numerous times. Generally, this chapter is dark and depressing. Several characters have lost their will to live. Read at your own risk. If you enjoy the "religious theme" but would rather something more upbeat and sexy, then check out Merry 'Cestmas! That one is much more enjoyable~
Disclaimer: The Loud House Copyright Nickelodeon (2018)
Chapter 5: Just One Voice
I watch him day to day as he grows colder to his family.
I watch him as he draws away from his friends, as he barely gets by in school, as he hides away in his room.
He never reads comics anymore. He never plays games.
He just lies on his bed, counting the specks on his ceiling endlessly.
Mother has asked me what happened to him, but I don't know.
Could it be that… that Luna went to him instead of me?
No. She would never do that. She would have kept it contained to just us two. She must have. She needed to!
Imagine my surprise, then, as I walk into my room and there I see Leni, sitting on my own bed with furrowed eyebrows and fierce eyes.
"I know what you did to Lincy."
My spine trembles in fear.
"N-no, you must be mis-" I stop the lie before it slips all the way out of my throat.
She stands up and comes to me.
"When will your sinning stop, Lori? Wasn't raping Luna enough for you?"
I fall against Leni's bed and look into her face with tear-stained eyes.
"I-i-it wasn't like that! I-it was consensual! She needed me… I-I needed her!"
She took another step toward me, her shoulders drawn back, her head held high.
"Why didn't you come to me? You know that I will not sin."
She leans toward me; I am forced onto my back. My breath hitches.
"I-I-I don't know! I swear!"
My dear sister puts her knee between my legs and lifts herself above me; trapping me onto the bed. I cannot turn away from her burning eyes. I cannot even breathe.
"It is a sin to make an oath. Especially when you lie."
She drifts closer to me.
I can hardly see her through the tears in my eyes.
"P-please, f-f-forgive me, Leni! I didn't mean for any of this to happen! Not to Luna, not to Lincoln, not to you!"
Her lips curl sideways.
"It's too late for forgiveness."
It's too late.
Those three words are all I think about nowadays.
My sister took my lips… and much more… that day. She hates me; she told me so. She told me she didn't have a choice… she had to have me, and she refused to give me a choice either.
Regardless of my own mental pain, the emotional turmoil I felt at Leni's passionate surrender to her hatred, my body responded to her ministrations.
In a way, yes, it is too late. My body has grown used to sin. My heart and mind are fragile and barely able to hold things together. Sometimes I feel like everything will fall apart… like a broken vase held together by cheap glue.
Just the other day, Lucy was listening to a song with Luna.
"He will set your fields on fire!"
An old song, for sure; and one I always adored.
But not in that moment.
Right then, I felt a deep chill settle in my breast. I saw Luna's eyes and I knew she felt it, too.
We gave up whipping ourselves with rods.
We gave up taking turns straddling the others and laying a pillow over her nose and mouth.
We gave up digging our nails into our chests, where our sinful hearts raced with desire and passion.
Nothing was working!
Even if we were to crucify ourselves, our last thoughts would be of our sinful desires… and all would be for naught.
Then, one day, my sister, Luan, came to me. And she read to me a passage… about two daughters and their widowed father… and the girls felt they were alone in the world, with no husbands and families to care for… so they made their father drunk, and with him made their own families.
She looked into my eyes, pleading for an alternative answer to the lust festering in her soul like a bleeding pus.
But even eons would not have given me another answer to her begging.
There was only one way now.
It was too late to stop.
Too late to prevent just one more sin.
Too late… too late.
With those two words filtering through my mind, I find myself walking into a grocery store…
My feet walk toward an aisle on the side…
My eyes see a bottle…
My hands pick it up and cradle it beneath the folds of my skirt.
It is just one more sin.
Just one bottle… only one theft.
That is what I tell myself as I walk back home.
That is what I repeat in my head as I stuff the vile thing beneath my underwear with tears rushing down my cheeks, my neck.
It's just one more sin!
Just one!
With this, it will stop! It must!
Please, God… if you exist… please, make this stop…!
It has been a few days since Lori confessed her sins to us.
I and Luan.
For some reason she refuses to let Leni know of any of our actions.
For some reason Leni refuses to talk to me anymore.
For some reason I have not seen Lincoln step out of his room in days.
But we know what will happen. Our hearts beat strongly and surely for it.
Our minds do not even consider the consequences of our actions.
We do not think about making children.
We do not think about destroying our brother's mind.
We only think of the deep yearning inside our breasts… of the desire to know our brother as the only male that's ever been in our lives.
We do love him… we earnestly do.
But he is also accessible.
We can… w-we can give him alcohol… secretly, in his evening snack of cereal or something.
We can take turns with him, just as Lot's daughters did with him.
We can cure the sin in our bodies! We can fix ourselves!
And then, we will be a happy family again!
We will go to church. We will pray to God. We will sing and bow our heads and give thanks with cheerful hearts.
We will be good Christian girls.
All it takes is one sin. Just this one. Once, we will know our brother… and then, we will keep our virtue for our future husbands.
No one must know.
And God will surely understand why we must do this to our brother. He will forgive us out of necessity.
We can't help ourselves! We must have him!
This yearning is turning my mind to mush.
I dream of him now.
I let my fingers linger on his arms.
I let my eyes drift across his boyish chest and sallow eyes.
I never notice how old my brother suddenly looks.
I never realize that he eats far less than is healthy.
I never take the time to ask why it is he walks with a bowed back… why it is his skin has turned pale and clammy.
He looks as if he has died… and I do not even know it.
I see past that… at the penis between his legs and what that means for my body. I look at his hands and imagine them touching me just as Lori and Luan's have done. I want his dark eyes to look upon my naked body. I want to give myself to him.
I want him… a-a-and I want him to want me!
I must be careful not to let anyone else notice this… but I let my brother see me sometimes. I walk into his room as he lies down and I knock down a trinket from his desk. I bend to reach it and turn my head toward him, my butt in the air, and smile.
Yesterday, with my skin literally burning with feverous passion, I could not stop myself from standing beside him and begging him for help.
I-I was having a "lady issue" and I lifted my skirt for him to see.
He wouldn't.
So, I… I turned his head toward me.
I made him look at my underwear, red-stained and disgusting, and I thrilled at the emotion dwelling inside his eyes.
…if only I realized then, what I would know much later…
…that it was deepest pain lurking in the shadowy depths of his pupils.
Lori, she took her turn first.
She couldn't go through with it.
I chastised her for it. It was the only time I ever whipped one of my sisters with a rod.
But she deserved it.
I told her that she must wait now… for me and Luan to take our own turns… and then, she can cure her sin with Lincoln's body.
Tonight… as the moon rises, the sun falls, and the stars rule over the heavenly night… I will bring my brother a glass of warm milk, sweetened with honey… and something else… and I will lie beside him, rubbing his hair until he falls asleep against my breast.
And under twilight's beauty, I will shed his body of his clothes. And I will remove my own.
I will slip under the covers and lie atop him, gently, supporting my weight so his body won't be sore in the morning.
I will look at his sleeping face. I will kiss his eyelids and speak my tender love to his sleeping ears, pleading for him to wake in the morning with a chest full of adoration for me.
My kisses will stroll down his naked chest, landing on every little inch like butterfly wings. I will nudge my nose against his strong member, and taste him just as I have tasted my own sister's core. I will take him into my mouth, and savor him slowly and passionately, until he awakens from his dreams…
And he will look down at me, only seeing my eyes… his penis fully sheathed between my lips, cradled by my burning tongue… and his voice will crack and whimper as I draw out his essence; drinking every last drop he gives me.
And once he looks upon me in purest love and devoted affection, I will inch upward and thread my fingers in his… and I will angle my hips so that his boyhood lines up with my girlhood… and we will consummate our familial love into something truly beautiful, breathtaking, soul-cleansing…
For surely my own brother's love will save me.
With every thrust he pumps inside of me, my heart will rest assured that my sin will be gone.
Just one more thrust… one more whimper… one more breathless gasp as I wrap my legs around his hips and lock him in place so he can release his sexual tension into my deepest core.
And once I have him in my arms, and he has made me his wife in body and spirit, then I will finally know a life with freedom and without sin.
Last night… was my turn.
I truly felt horrible…
Lincoln hadn't taken to alcohol like we had hoped. It made him irritable in the mornings. He complained of headaches and nausea… but he would only write his grumblings down.
He still refused to talk.
Luna hasn't been the same since she took her turn either.
She has been reserved… acting out of character… timid… a-almost scared.
I… I almost didn't go through with it. But I had to. I couldn't stop myself now… not after everything I had already done!
Lori walks around like a frightened mouse.
Luna stumbles into walls and trips over air; her mind absent and clouded.
It seems that… just as quickly as those two had stepped up to their sisterly duties… they had swiftly fallen victim to some sort of plague.
And myself… I don't know what I feel.
My brother was asleep. He didn't wake up like he did for Luna. He didn't spend an evening in uncomfortable silence, like he did with a cowardly Lori.
He was asleep and I could hear him speaking in a dream. It was the first time I remember hearing him speak in a long time. But he laid there… passive and unconscious… as I stole his innocence and virtue and made him ejaculate into my womb.
I didn't feel better.
So, I waited until he could get erect again and I made him have sex with me once more.
And again.
Again.
More and more.
Until the sun rose in the morning.
And now… in the evening… I realize that Lincoln never once stepped from his bedroom.
He never ate.
He never went to the restroom.
He… did nothing… all day.
All attempts to speak with him were met with silence.
Turning his door handle would reveal its locked state.
I am worried for him greatly. I truly am.
But… as the weeks slowly tick by… I… start to worry for myself.
Lori eventually had her turn again. And in the morning she refused to eat.
In my last conversation with her, she told me she felt hollow on the inside… like an oak tree that has rotted out.
She hasn't spoken to me since.
She hasn't visited Lincoln since then either.
Luna took another turn… only to grow just as deathly quiet and inactive as Lincoln. She never took another turn after that. She won't speak to me.
I find her lying under her blankets most days… always shivering, always covered in goosebumps… grey and sallow.
She looks like she's dying.
And I…
I never went into his room ever again.
Several more weeks later, I woke up feeling weird. But it was nothing out of the ordinary… or so I thought.
I remembered what I did with my brother.
And fear set into my bones until they became stiff and brittle.
I couldn't go to the school nurse.
I couldn't go to a store.
Everyone in this town knows my parents… they would spread rumors… create lies.
I… went to a place where I could be kept anonymous… at least for a little while.
To a clinic…
And it was in that lonely bathroom, half a year after my sexual desires were suddenly awakened by Luna, that my pregnancy test… lying in my shaking, pale hands… was positive.
And my eyes… immediately looked at the wall… where a little pamphlet was resting… with a handful of options I could choose from to help my situation.
See, dear reader, a Christian apologist… such as I… understands everything is based on assumptions.
And… while I know deep in my soul that… t-t-that this… th-this baby inside my womb is a… a-a life…
It's entirely too easy to… not assume its worth.
From… a constitutional point of view… he or she doesn't have personhood… therefore, he or she doesn't have rights.
Including the right to life.
My eyes clench tightly as my hands lift that pamphlet up and rest it on my lap.
Tears fall down my cheeks.
I never meant to get anyone killed.
I only wanted to abate the lust in my body.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
It wasn't fair!
It wasn't planned!
So, what if it happened because of my actions toward an unconscious male? Should I really have to endure this tempest because of my sin?
Do I really need to carry a baby to term?
My parents would be furious.
I might be forced to leave.
I would be mocked and ridiculed.
I would lose my friends… and probably my family.
How is… i-is any of that fair… to me!?
I open my eyes and stare at that little booklet for what could have been hours as I sit on the toilet.
No one questions me as I step back toward the lobby and… and write my name down for a future appointment.
The nurse that helped me sign in is standing nearby, and when my eyes settle on hers… I see tears there.
I do not receive any emotional reaction from anyone else.
It seems it is just a regular part of the job at the clinic… letting underage girls decide the fate of living beings… all on their own. Without mother or father… without the baby's rightful dad…
Just me…
Just me and the ever-seeing eyes of God.
I leave the building and take off at a sprint toward home.
I do not make it; I fall into a tree in the park, and I cry.
My hand yearns to touch my stomach but I lash it against the tree.
The sudden burst of pain doesn't take my tears away… it only makes them worse.
When I return home, I see Lincoln.
And that fire I had felt inside my body… doesn't come back.
It is gone. For now anyway.
I go to my room.
And I lie on my bed.
Above me, my sister is coughing; her trembling is causing the bedframe to rattle… but I can do nothing to help her.
Finally, as darkness falls… I let my hand touch the bare skin of my stomach… where a precious seed of new life is growing…
And I scream into my arm as my nails dig into my flesh; as I scrape and claw until I start to bleed.
My appointment is in a week.
And that is how long this sin will remain inside of me… until it is purged… by death.
Darkness has spread across the landscape.
My nightgown flows behind me as a sharp gust of wind grazes across my body.
But I do not feel the cold.
I have developed an affinity for ice; the perfect counterpart to the raging fire of hatred that burns unceasingly in my breast.
My hand touches the bark on a tree, and the rough texture feels grating, resistant. I drag my smooth skin across the ridges and pull my hand back… only to be disappointed that it did not cut me.
Balling my hand up, I smack it against my thigh and step away.
Above me, the moon shines brightly as the clouds disperse, and for the first time I shiver… not because of the cold… but because the moon is watching me. Its silvery light shines through my very soul, revealing the deep places in my heart.
Tears burn in the edges of my vision as I turn around.
That damn tree is in front of me. Mocking me. Scorning me. Able to make me bleed, but refusing to do so.
With a harsh whine I lunge my leg forward, slamming my heel against it.
That satisfying sound of bark crunching, of flesh breaking, and that delightful feeling of blood smearing across the dirt as I put my weight upon my now-injured foot thrills me.
I turn to look back up at God… but I find the clouds have hidden His view.
Through the anger pooling in my head, I do not realize my logical mistake. I only feel rage.
I turn back toward our house and I step over to it.
But upon my journey, a faint sliver of moonlight breaks through the clouds and lights upon a gentle flower. An innocent rose.
And in my anger, I reach my hand through the thorns and branches… I clasp my fingers around that tender bloom… I pull it out.
I look down upon it, admiring the beauty of creation in all its splendor.
Then, I crush it in my palm; bloom, thorns, and all.
As I step into the house, the moonlight still looks down upon the ground…
Where a smashed rose lies upon the ground, covered in the blood of my ruined hand.
As I march up the stairs, my mind drifts into the void.
Time no longer means anything to me.
I feel old… so very old. Almost like I am timeless. Almost as if I have lost my sense of mortality.
Death is for those that are weaker than I.
At the very top, my eyes turn to the left.
I see my sister, Lori's door; guarding the prison to a mindless husk.
I see my sisters, Luna and Luan's door; both cold and shivering… dying… because they are too weak to do what must be done.
They are too weak to survive until the very end.
But I can.
But I did.
I turn to the right and start for Lincoln's door.
What my sisters don't know is that I have visited my brother every single night.
If his shirt was to be lifted, they would see the bruises I have made on his chest.
If his pants were to be taken off, they would see the cuts my finger nails have made.
My brother is the weakest one of us all; unable to fight the demons inside his mind.
And I am his mistress; peppering his face with hateful kisses; sucking out his life-giving oxygen with my angry hugs; throwing him deeper and deeper into Hell with every single thrust of my hips against his.
Once upon a time, he fought me.
Once in a dream, he pleaded with me to stop.
But now he does nothing but lies still for me.
He would even let me break his bones, crush his hands, dislocate his joints… anything! …because he is that weak.
In this house, things used to be repressed and subdued, but at least everyone had a voice.
But now it is my domain.
And I, Leni Loud, have the only voice that can be heard from the depths of this void.
I open his door and the shadows rush in, covering his room like a gaseous plague.
The moon is too scared to look through his curtains as I draw his blankets away from his unmoving body.
I look to the ceiling… to the sky… to God's very throne… and I smile as I straddle my brother's hips, with my nails digging into his throat.
He doesn't writhe under me, gasping for oxygen, as he once did.
His will to live is gone.
I am the only one keeping him alive now.
Forcing him to eat in the middle of the night.
Persuading him to drink water mixed with drops of my own blood.
I blow a kiss to God the Father, I wink at God the Son, and I salute God the Holy Spirit only moments before I sheath my brother inside my core once again.
My belly is distended with our child conceived out of hatred.
But I have no desire to destroy him or her just yet.
I will remain beside my brother until the last possible moment… until he draws his very last breath.
And as the darkness falls upon his world for the last time… I will pass on with him…
And drag our souls into the deepest pit of Hell.
Because the very idea of living in the same realm as the God that must surely hate me is so vile, so disgusting… that any fate… even endless torture and pain and agony, in a land where worms bury themselves inside our bodies and eat away at our very flesh and bones… would be better.
As my hands force my brother to pass out from lack of oxygen, I look to God one more time and I scream in pleasure and rage.
Because this is not the kiss I wanted.
This is not the touch I needed.
I never wanted to dip my soul into sin.
It was never my choice to corrupt my body… to taint my purity with my own brother's innocence.
But this is my voice! And I will scream and cry in unimaginable pain until I fall to the ground. And I will cut at my clothes until they fall away in tattered shreds. And I will break my own body until I can no longer walk or breathe.
And I will beg God to kill me… to end the madness that is twisting my mind into an evil garden of desolation.
But He will not hear.
In the morning, I will awake. My hatred will be stronger. At night I will visit my brother once again and continue this dance of sin.
One day, I look in the mirror and I no longer see Leni Loud.
One night, I look in the mirror and I see darkness and misery and ice.
As my sisters slowly freeze up, wither away, and die…
As my brother lays on his bed, cradled by the demons living inside his mind…
I alone am able to walk around and talk to God.
I alone can pray and save them.
But I won't.
Because my compassion for my own body… for my own family… has shriveled up and turned into fading ash.
And with my voice I will commune with God beside the tree in our backyard, at the darkest part of twilight, and I will damn ourselves to an eternity of suffering.
Because I am no longer Leni Loud.
I am now Death, and in my weary arms will I cradle my brother's head until his neck falls slack and he gives up the ghost.
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Just One More Sin