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-——————————————————————-

“These are really pretty.”

Plucked flowers sat arranged in the girls hands, their fragrant petals fully bloomed. You inhaled the subtle sweet scent. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this species before.”

“I don’t think I have either. They look like a type of orchid.” The girl beside you adjusted her glasses with a demure smile. “Do you like them?”

“Absolutely,” you said, accepting the bouquet with a quick grin. “They smell really—”

A buzz neared, followed by a bee hovering close to the flowers. You tensed, sitting more akin to a statue as it landed on one, then the next and the next in search of nectar. Its stinger way too close to your fingers. You exhaled once it finally left after finding none.

“They do seem to attract attention.” You glared halfheartedly at the girl. “Sorry,” she said, looking down. “But they smell good, is what you were going to say?”

The pinkish petals shone bright under the sun. As though they lit up with joy… For your anniversary of being here. It seemed quite bitter to celebrate being stuck one more year. You had believed you'd escaped the tradition after leaving Colony House. “Yeah…”

“Were you hoping someone else would give you flowers?”

Heat flushed in your cheeks. “What?” You dropped your arm back down to the log beneath you two, the breeze rustling at your clothes. “No. No, that’s… ridiculous.”

“Well, I think that if you like flowers, maybe you should try giving them yourself.”

Confess first? To him? Fat chance.

“...Most guys don’t seem to like flowers though.” And the ‘guy' you had in mind especially not. Not that you could even properly grant them to him anyway.

An odd little smile pulled at her lips. “Try. I’m sure if he likes you, he’ll adore anything you’d give him. I can help make a bouquet.”

-——————————————————————-

Hope was a cruel thing.

The sweet scent had dulled to your senses, though everyone you came across stated the flowers smelled wonderful. Asking where you got them from and from who especially. Only to wind up teasing you over the lucky recipient after you stated their purpose, much to your consternation.

You stared at the red ribbon keeping the bouquet together. Was it too much? Too girly? Would it offend him? With a sigh you leaned back in your chair, taking a sip from your water and wringing the clammy glass between your fingers after.

He’d arrive soon. His first stop was always your window. Sometimes it seemed to be his only true stop.

A false form of flattery. Worse—an effective form of false flattery.

The bouquet drew your attention again. It was delusional to leave something like this out in the vain hope it’d be appreciated. Your fingers twitched with the urge to snap them back up. Glancing further down the street, it was well past the time to linger on regrets. Shapes drifted through the town like pale ghosts, spilling from the forest and from between houses. Eerily human until you got too close. You searched amongst them, for the one that had your heart currently racing.

And you didn’t need to search for long. One peeled away from the road, casually beelining for your window. The sway of his hips brought a smile to your features. His already sat in a smile—another facette—and if you used your imagination you could say it looked happy. Your stomach flipped, eyes drifting down.

Perhaps he was happy. You couldn’t imagine it was for the same reason. His cold heart didn’t beat for you, nor could it hope to effectively pretend to.

His gaze never left you the second he paved his way over. It was the same every night. Except as you glanced back up, his piercing gaze had turned towards the flowers instead.

“Howdy, darling.” He nodded at the bouquet, something cooler falling over his features. A pretence? Surely, it had to be. “Should I be jealous?”

“O-oh, no.” You scrambled with your glass, clicking it down too hard on the table, its contents nearly sloshing over the side. “They’re not for me. I… I got them for you.”

His smile became lopsided, sending a twisty, curl in your stomach. “For me,” he mused. “Color me surprised.” The creature’s head craned down, his brim hiding his eyes from view as he studied the gift splayed out over the window sill. Then he glanced up, an emotion flashing through his eyes that you couldn’t read. “Making me look bad for not getting you anything first.” His hands left his belt to cradle the bouquet, amusement clearing whatever had lurked beneath.

One of your shoulders lifted in a shrug. “There’s not much I need.”

That focus sharpened. “Maybe there is something,” he murmured. “Shame you won’t let me inside.”

Warmth surged in your belly in time with an icy stab, your eyes averting. “You know that’s impossible.” Your fingers found one another, wringing them.

He remained quiet for a long time, studying you as creatures behind him went about their rusted routines. “Lot’s of things are possible, sweetheart. Sometimes,” he said, stepping closer to the window to whisper, “you just have to be brave.”

Your mouth opened, hand twitching with an urge you struggled to deny—

A knock had you jump, head snapping back to the door. Your name rang muffled from behind the wood. “Can we talk?”

Quickly, you grabbed the curtain.”Yeah, just a sec, Sophia.” You turned back to the creature whose face had fallen back into a familiar bland smile. “We’ll talk later.” He nodded, holding the flowers in one hand. The sight had butterflies fluttering inside your belly. Even if the way they hung at his side seemed a disservice to their beauty. “Goodnight.”

He tipped his hat without a word. But as you closed the curtains…

You swore his eyes were more intense than any prior interaction.

-——————————————————————-

“Did you try it?”

You nodded with a slight smile.

“And?” The girl leaned forward, curiosity alight on her features. “What did he think?”

“He accepted the bouquet, so I think he likes them?”

Her eyes crinkled. “I’m glad. I could help arrange another—” She leaned on the table—

It creaked.

Flipped.

Both of you gasped as glasses went flying and shattered on the ground. The girl stumbled, fell, grabbing hold of your reaching hand—pulling you down as the chair toppled, your other arm reaching to catch yourself as the floor rushed up—

Sharp pain flared up your palm, followed by a hot sting. You hissed, redness slicking up your shaking fingers when you lifted it.

“Oh goodness, I’m so sorry. Here—” She grabbed a cloth from the bar, bringing it over to press to the wound. “I’m so, so sorry. I am always so—”

“It’s fine, Sophia. Accidents happen.”

She helped clean up, the wound turning out to be barely worthy to be called a cut. It had simply bled a lot. Sure stung though. After making sure it wouldn't reopen, you both stared at the mess.

“I’ll clean this up,” she said. “It’s the least I can do.”

You turned her way. “I’ll help. It’s really no problem.”

She smiled. “Alright.”

And while you were busy clearing shards from the floor…

You failed to notice her pocket the cloth soaked with your blood.

-——————————————————————-

Another bouquet was lifted from the window sill, close to gently. Astounding for a being like him. As if the hands holding it were afraid to ruffle even a single petal.

“I’m starting to think you really like me, sweetheart.”

“I do enjoy your company.”

The creature’s attention lingered on the flowers. It was a different mix this time around. A common occurrence after Sophia began helping with the search of flowers. She had a better eye for what looked well together. A skill she’d picked up from her mother, she had said.

“I enjoy yours as well.” His expression flattened, threading tension through yours. “I’d… hoped you’d trust me by now.” He searched your face. “Not all of us are the same.”

You bit your lip. “I can never know that for sure.”

“I don’t blame you.” Your eyes widened with surprise. The sight brought a small, crooked grin back on him. “None of them have given you a reason to believe me.”

Your lips rose in an answering grin. Tentative, after you spotted how his eyes darkened. “Murder does reflect badly on you.”

The cowboy chuckled, an emotion more genuine simmering beneath. “Sweetheart, I’ll make sure you’re surrounded by them flowers when I get you.” He lifted the bouquet, studying them with a peculiar glint. “You’d look good pressed onto them.”

Heat crept up your cheeks. “You kept them?” You chose to ignore the implication. Not that you could be sure if it was the one rose colored glasses demanded. If you took them off… perhaps you’d instead see the funeral he had prepared with your gifts.

He grinned, that glint remaining. “All of them.”

-——————————————————————-

“My mother always said that men sometimes need a little push.”

“To…?”

The girl arranged the flowers, bringing them together into something beautiful. A few of them stood out amongst otherwise sweet notes. They almost reeked off… spoiled meat. She turned to you, that mysterious, little smile playing on her lips. The one that had your spine stiffen and chills crawling over your skin.

“To understand.”

Whatever retort you had died, a whisper of discomfort wrapping around your neck as she tied a deep red ribbon around the stems. The scent… it turned your stomach, a part deep down whispering there was something off about this.

-——————————————————————-

The creature arrived later than usual despite his kin roaming the streets. It was nearing the time when others would start to make their attempts.

If things followed any kind of order still, that was.

Lately they stopped coming over. At most, you’d get a jaunty wave from a few.

It was only the cowboy now.

The creature appeared longer at your window. Sometimes sticking to the point your heart jumped with the idea he might be reluctant to leave. The emotion in his eyes could only belong to a monster longing to kill, however. And perhaps it should unnerve you that other creatures avoided you. As if the cowboy had staked his claim.

It shouldn’t make your heart leap up, because he…

You suppressed a sigh, watching the lady in the swingcoat curl her fingers in a wave, her smile pleased for reasons unknown. Perhaps she knew where the cowboy had gone.

The strange bouquet would wait for the whole night if it had to. You wouldn’t. Not even for him. You’d have to explain why the gift hadn’t been received. Though, Sophia didn’t know what ‘man’ you were talking with. Strangely, she never asked.

The ribbon on the bouquet stood out harshly amongst green stems, the red seemingly bleeding into the stems. That strange scent of decay had mixed over time with something tangy. It truly smelled like rot now. The sweetness of surrounding flowers couldn’t mask it anymore.

You hadn’t mentioned it. Neither had Sophia. Maybe she hadn’t smelled it, though you were hard pressed to believe that. But you had been curious, so curious to find out whether he’d like the scent.

You took a swipe over the streets again, but the one you sought still wasn’t there.

As the moon steadily rose, disappointment nestled somewhere in your chest. You reached, grasping the curtain—

Stilled to crane your head. Listened.

Footsteps got closer, softened by grass. Your hand dropped with a stumbling pulse. From the side, he appeared. Smiling with his hands on his belt as always.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he said, taking his hat off and placing it over his chest. His combed back hair rustled lightly with his head tilt. Those wide eyes appeared painfully sincere. “Tried to get you something special, but all things special take time.” He fished something from his pocket, presenting it.

Nestled in his palm sat a crooked thing. Pale, slightly yellow in tint, rounded and slimmer at one end.

A… tooth?

You blinked at it, getting closer to the glass. And yes, it was indeed a tooth. A big canine. Root and all.

“Where did you get this from?” The answer spun like dread through your mind. He must have—

His smile twisted, gaze eagerly taking you in. “I had to search far and wide for it. Bears are pretty rare around these parts.”

A bear… He killed a bear for you. The strangest combination of flattery and horror twisted into a concoction of pure speechlessness.

“...I’m not sure what to say.”

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice for starters,” he said smoothly, cheeks creasing.

Warmth flooded your body, eyes averting long enough to take a steadying breath. “Thank you,” you said quietly.

The creature tilted his head. “What was that?”

“I said—you know what, no. I’m not playing this game.”

He chuckled, eyes drifting to the bouquet. “You might consider it a strange gift, but yours are no different.” You turned to the flowers as well. The white and pink sparsely broken by some yellow.

A laugh startled out of you as a thought popped up. He looked at you curiously, head swaying lightly. “I’m not giving you teeth.” His smile gained a smug tilt. His usual way of laughing. Then he pressed closer to the window, settling his hat back in place with a single motion.

“I do expect a little teeth,” he said sweetly, his index finger pointing to the side of his throat. “Here.” Then pointed lower to his collar, focussing on your widening eyes. “And here.” When his finger lowered only further, you rushed up from your chair, the thing wobbling in place.

“Woah, woah,” you whisper yelled, hands flailing, “we get the message.”

His eyes crinkled with amusement. “Would you like teeth?”

You spluttered for a second. “Listen here, mister cowboy man, why don’t we finish up exchanging gifts for now and go to bed.” That dastardly smile only widened further. “W-well, no, not together—I’ll go to bed and… sleep, yes, sleep.” You nodded to yourself, heat clinging to your skin like sticky humidity.

He hummed, head tilting in thought, amusement bright in his countenance. “I did come a little late,” he mused, but thankfully stopped with the deadly teasing. The massive tooth was placed on the sill beside the flowers, tenderly as though it were precious. The odd sight worsened the fluttering sensation low in your body. The way he, a being so inhuman, carefully lifted the bouquet. Like he thought your gift even more precious.

He brought them closer, face mostly hidden by his brim.

And…

Grew stiff. The barely there—soft, your mind supplied—smile dropping. His shoulders tensed, muscles snapping visibly taut.

“Sweetheart,” he said quietly, an edge in it that set off a slow shiver, “you didn’t make these alone, did you?”

“...You got me. I’m not that skilled yet.” You chuckled, froze and shuddered. “Why, can you smell that?”

His posture was ramrod straight, only his head remained craned down. “Maybe… it’s time to prove it.”

A crease settled between your brows. “Prove it?”

“Open the window for me.” His voice became slightly gravelly.

There was a whisper inside that zoned in on the way he dropped the flowers to his side. Not letting go, but certainly not bringing it close to his chest as he was wont to do.

“Sara and Sophia wouldn’t appreciate that, I’m sure.”

A close mouthed chuckle shook through his shoulders, his face lifting up. What you saw made you step back, heart dropping. His eyes weren’t merely blown, they were close to wild.

“Don’t care ‘bout them,” he said, that rare Western accent peeking through. A phenomena that you associated with… emotion. Stress. “I only want to see you without that damn window between us.”

You studied him for a second, your pulse thudding louder. He had never cursed prior to now. “I don’t know what brought this on, but I won’t let you inside.”

The way he stared, you could only describe as predatory, fingers curling at his side as if ready to sling his hypothetical gun up. “Darlin’.” His jaw twitched. “What's a man gotta do to get you to step outside?”

The corner of your lips tugged up, a hollow pang following. “Well… be an actual man, I’d say.”

Something colder and older than you understood passed like a dark shadow over his eyes. Making you swallow. Hard. “I’m sorry.” You reached for the curtain, ignoring him as he stepped even closer to the window. “I have to go.” You ignored the call following after you. Snuffed out the lights and pretended to sleep as he remained standing.

You kept your eyes closed, but your ears…

Lazy knocking filtered through perfectly.

…Noise could not be shut out.

“Sweetheart,” he drawled, “didn’t mean to frighten ya. Could we talk a bit more?”

“I do need to sleep,” you replied in a whisper.

“You never answered my question.” You inhaled slowly. “Whether you like teeth.”

And promptly stopped breathing mid exhale. "What's with you, tonight? You…”

…were never this bold.

Your pulse beat louder, reaching your throat as you watched the curtain, his shape hidden fully from view.

“It’s the thought of having to wait all day to see you again.

That beating organ inside you softened, painful longing mourning with it now. “I think the tooth is worth a few hours less.” His first gift. Strange, but oddly fitting for a being like him. It took effort to the point he was hours late. “But please, I need to sleep. You know you kept me up last night too,” you joked, stifling a yawn.

The quiet that followed sat heavy between you, his own laughter or sassiness nonexistent when it shouldn’t be. Tension snaring tighter the longer he remained close.

“...Sleep well, sweetheart.” The tone was wrong. Strained and nearly shaky.

Before you could say anything, his steps faded. And you swore they did so with more haste than usual.

-——————————————————————-

“What did he think of our latest bouquet?”

“He… I don’t know. He acted strange. I swear he liked them, but he got a little… insistent?” You traced the tooth in your pocket, invisible to all but your touch. “He did get me something this time though.”

Sophia’s eyes grew wider. "Really?" She leaned towards you. “What did he get?”

You chuckled, cleared your throat, thinking of the madness you could say.

He found an animal I wasn’t aware existed here, fucking killed it, took its tooth and cleaned it thoroughly before dumping it on my sill. Oh, and he was somehow not even soaked in blood despite, and I repeat, killing a bear.

Instead you turned to her with a crooked grin and said, “It’s a bit special to fully explain, but he did put a lot of effort into it.”

She hummed. “Something he could’ve been planning for a long time, you mean?”

That had you pause, fingers stilling. The creature might've been searching far longer than you knew. Maybe for multiple nights. Using a predator's logic, killing and presenting a tooth from such a dangerous and rare animal was likely extremely meaningful. That hope inside you bloomed into a familiar ache.

“Yeah.”

Sophia looked up in thought. ”Maybe by giving you something, he… uhm, expects more?”

“Like he thinks he can buy me, you mean?” you stated, raising your brows. Wondering not for the first time why you were discussing these things with a kid. A weirdly wise one, but a kid all the same.

She looked down, flustered. “That’s not what I meant.”

“No. I think you could be right. Maybe,” you said, insides churning, “he does think I’m easy.”

Easy prey, that is.

-——————————————————————-

Like any other night, you grabbed a glass, filled it with water and went to your room, biding the other two inhabitants goodnight. The only difference was how you’d ignore the glitter in Sophia’s eyes. She couldn’t know that the bouquets she helped make all found their way on the windowsill.

Not that there was one tonight.

You clicked the door shut behind you. Sighed wearily as you approached the curtain. First placing your glass down, then reached to pull the fabric aside—

A gasp pushed from between your lips, a hand darting to your chest.

"Holy shit.” It came out shrill enough that your muscles tensed. You strained your ears, but the house remained silent afterwards, showing no indication anyone heard.

Expect for him.

The creature opposite you more or less stared you down, eyes darkened and even wilder than the previous evening. If anything, you’d say he looked haggard. His hair was ruffled in places beneath his hat, as if he had clawed at it. His collar sat rumpled around his neck, the bolo slightly askew. Your eyes trailed a tear in the front of his shirt. Not bad enough to split the fabric wholly, but visible all the same.

“Sweetheart,” he said, tone husky, stirring a well known heat low in your body. “How have you been?”

“No different than yesterday.”

He stepped closer. “Slept well?” You nodded after a while, wondering why he asked these things. His eyes trailed over your form, darting quickly over everything and seemingly nothing. Lingering on—

“Eyes up here, buddy.” And that’s where they went. Locking onto yours as if he wanted to swallow you whole. Your throat tightened.

“Did you keep it?”

You blinked at his bland smile, but it appeared off. As if his teeth didn’t fully fit his current form. You gulped, then fished the tooth from your pocket. His head craned forward, a—a fucking rumble of approval coming from his chest.

“I keep yours too. I meant that.” He said, grin sharper than you’d ever seen. “Let me show you.”

“Haha.” You rolled your eyes. “Did you think giving me one thing would make me jump all over you? Don’t get me wrong, you must’ve put in a lot of effort in finding a bear, but—”

Your mouth snapped shut. He… began pacing, hands on his belt, gaze fixed like a shining beam onto your form. Back and forth he went along the short span before your window.

“If you were that easy,” his teeth snapped together, lips lifting to bare them, “I’d have you ridin’ me already.”

A shock of heat pulled at your nerves, flashing through your whole face. “That—, I…”

His fingers curled tighter around his belt, a sound close to a whine hissing past those clenched teeth. And when you let your gaze drop—

“Oh…”

There was a very obvious… problem… there.

“Are you in heat or something?”

The look he shot you sent a different kind of warmth to your cheeks. You averted your eyes momentarily, but like a magnet, his seeming desperation drew them back. His pacing was like clockwork. Exactly six steps to the right, and six back to the other side, head swiveling to keep you in sight.

“Your little gift did this.” He still managed to talk steadily. Using that overly cheerful tone.

But your gift… The rot scented flowers…?

Blood seeped from your face. This must’ve started yesterday then. The sudden change wasn’t because of his gift and his belief he could persuade you—it was because of yours.

“I think you should take responsibility." Those words dropped like a bomb stubbornly keeping itself from exploding.

“Woah, they were just flowers! I didn’t know they’d do this,” you rushed out with some near stumbles, hands raised up. Dropping them quickly as the submissive quality blew a deeper blackness into his eyes. “I’ve been giving them for months now.”

His gaze roved over your body, the burn heated and invasive as if he had already claimed the skin hidden under admittedly very little clothes. Shorts and a top with slippers.

“What you got between them legs gets compared to flowers too, you know.” Your lips parted, eyes widening. “You have no others prepared.” He nodded to the empty sill.

“You’re asking for a lot there,” you said, voice pitching higher, a stilted chuckle cutting off when you turned back.

“Whether today, tomorrow or years into the future, one day you’d be caught.” You gulped, unable to ignore how he followed the motion. “Why not now? I can show you what I’ve prepared for you.”

The bait was set, waiting to be bitten. And even though you saw it being placed, you already felt wetness trickling in your underwear, those wide eyes and bared teeth an alluring, yet poisonous scent that drew you in all the same. Your hand drifted to the latch, shaking as fingers took hold of it. He stilled in his pacing, twisting rigidly your way. Following the way you pulled it up and open.

You reached to push, froze with your heart in your throat, staring at creatures beyond him. Creatures who’d kill you without hesitation. The cowboy stepped forward to fill your sight, gaze starving and piercing and raising that heat higher. You almost made a sound.

“Just one little push, sweetheart, and I’ll be yours.”

The window groaned in a high pitch, rusted metal fighting back against said final push. One you hadn’t consciously made.

The glass lifted, its sheen no longer dulling his shape. That pale skin touched by distant streetlights, shadowing his face partly. Teeth that gleamed, eyes that shone.

He smiled, cheeks twitching as if containing the sharp teeth hidden impossibly beneath. Reaching a steady hand to you. Waiting for you to take it. Your mind still screamed you could turn back. It planted itself in his anyway, shocking warmth seeping into your skin.

Fingers clasped over yours and with a gentle tug, he pulled you forward. Helping your legs sling over and out. Guiding your feet to land before him.

And you shook.

Shook as his grin appeared more a snarl up close. Throat tightening under that animalistic hunger. His gaze dipped down to follow the bop of your throat again. Weight settled on your shoulders.

Pushing.

Trembling knees gave out immediately. Eagerly. You never broke eye-contact, craning your head to stare past his chest to his wild expression. He worked on his belt, slowly looping it loose. Excitement zapped up your spine, kicking your pulse straight into overdrive.

This was really happening.

“You gave me quite a terrible day’s worth of sleep.”

You had dreamt of this.

“I think you should apologize, dollface.” His member was freed, not flushed like you had expected, but painfully hard. Thick. Too big to fit in your mouth. You’d try anyway. Saliva pooled at the challenge. “Open your mouth.”

It wasn’t a request.

You hesitated to follow through. Not because of the vulnerability, the cruelty he had to be capable of—but because of the other creatures out there. You tried to look sideways—

Fingers firmly grasped your jaw, digging in with unnecessary force, twisting you back.

“Don’t look at them. They already know to leave you be.” Those fingers slid down, wrapping around your throat. “Now… don’t make me repeat myself.”

His hold kept you in place, your walls clenching at the subtle strength, already aching for him. His eyes promised a more forceful approach if you denied him. Tempting as it was… your lips parted. “Stick your tongue out.” Heat flared in your cheeks, but you complied, panting already. “Good.”

His cock slapped on your tongue, heavy and tasteless, the wet sound a small taste of what would follow. Those eyes were close to pitch black as they watched your tongue wrap around his head.

Air flowed with growing difficulty past his tightening grip. Your pulse fluttered against his fingers—a subtle shake in them that you couldn’t resist pushing. Holding onto his thighs, you tried to take more inside your mouth.

He didn’t let you, his free hand snapping up to grab the back of your head. Rumbling came from his chest, face morphing into a snarl. Not yet morphing into the nightmare lurking under his skin. You hoped to see it. The other face that he staunchingly hid.

The muscles of his thighs tensed beneath you, his feet shuffling wider apart. The grip on his jeans tightened—preparing, jaw slack and throat fighting not to clench—reflexively shutting your eyes when his hips thrust forward. Not rough like you expected, but slowly sliding over your tongue as if to test the waters.

He still tasted like nothing. No scent came from him beyond that of old clothes and nature and something like cool stone underneath.

That grip on you tightened as you sucked on his head, massaging the underside of his head. Nearly snaring of your breath. Your vision blurred, head growing wonderfully fuzzy. A soft sound, akin to a gasp, fell beautifully from his lips. Hips stuttering as if they didn’t know whether to push forward or to pull away. And that was reward enough.

He must be sensitive. All night and day he must’ve suffered.

You grinned as much as you could around him, looking up to meet his shadowed eyes. Ignoring the throbbing ache below, you reached for the hand behind your head. Tracing tight knuckles and an iron hold. Placed your hand flat over his. And applied pressure. Pushing.

Showing him what you want.

As if something snapped within him, as if he needed that permission, he thrust deeper, a low snarl rattling from him. Filling your mouth with no mercy until he hit the back.

Your throat squeezed, a wet gag pushing past the cock pushing too deep, hitting the back insistently. There he remained, making you fight not to struggle.

You moaned, his thighs trembling minuscously harder underneath you. He wasn’t deep enough. Not anywhere close to being all the way inside. Your nails dug into his jeans, your other inching down your front to the joint of your body.

Blinking up at him, his gaze burned into you, his cock twitching the second you made eyecontact. He followed your hand as it disappeared beneath your shorts, watching as if mesmerised by the motions your fingers made hidden from sight.

The touch of his gaze alone invoked sparks.

Without that wildness, that urgency, you were sure he’d have stopped you from touching yourself.

“Take a deep breath,” he murmured, voice deeper, breathier, than you’d ever heard in the past. His face strove to remain passive. You wanted to shatter that resolve.

So you listened, inhaled, heart beating with exhilaration. Then you held on, his thighs tensing.

His length slid back. Only his head rested inside. Burying back in as deep as you could handle with nary a second between. Groaning came from above, his hips quickly finding a rhythm.

Without giving you any time to get used to the invasion. Thrusting without even a second spared for you to take a much needed breath, head spinning and emptying deliciously with every push and pull.

The heat inside you seared at the roughness, your core tightening in time with his fingers. Cutting of more air. You gagged wetly. But he pushed harder against you, unable to pop inside your throat.

Had he been clearer of mind, you’d expect teasing, guidance, sudden roughness or unexpected gentleness.

But he wasn’t.

Mindless growls and whimpering left him when you gagged a second time. His hold on you tightened when you tried to pull back, shackling your head in place like you were nothing but a stubborn toy. He pulled back, sped up, keeping most of his length inside. Humping more than thrusting, keeping you on the verge of gagging. His body tilted forward, curling over you as if he’d topple anytime.

Your tongue wrapped around his length, saliva wetting your chin. Raking nails down his thighs, harshly, warningly, had him whine, hips shaking as his knees nearly buckled. Electricity shot down your spine, goosebumps rising at the sounds he made, the wet sounds coming from you.

Pride rushed through your struggling chest, every breath preciously sparse, yet plentiful to keep taking him, having him slide along your tongue. Desperate to get as deep as possible like he was nothing but a rutting beast.

He’d hate seeing himself like this. It’s why you loved it. Why you wanted the tears pricking at your eyes.

It was why you struggled against his hold. Pushed forward to wrap your lips further and further. It didn’t take much. Breaking his hold, relaxing your throat for his thick cock.

His hands shot up to the window for stability after you took the reins from him, the glass shaking with a thud.

Despite pushing as much as you could, there was still a third left. It almost saddened you that you couldn’t go deeper.

So you made up by sucking.

Hard.

A beautiful, high-pitched keen chittered past his clenched teeth. Urgent and fragile and everything he shouldn’t be. He bowed forward, cock pulsing in your mouth. You eagerly leaned back, pumping his wet cock over your tongue, panting and roughly twisting him so you could finally taste him. But—

Nothing came. Despite how his cock twitched. There was nothing on your tongue beyond cool air. He only whined louder. Sounding more like a wounded animal than the suave, in control cowboy you knew.

He slid down, and you let him, growing slack yourself as confused shock lodged deep within your muscles.

Did… he not cum like a human man would? Or…

His face fell to your neck, nuzzling—no, hiding—there, arms slumped beside your seated form. Uncaring that his hat floated down with a whisper. He inhaled, the tremble pushing further along his body.

…was the flower's effect messing things up?

You shifted, froze at the tiny growl reverberating against you. For a second, your hands hovered. Then you wrapped your arms around him, reaching to card through soft hair. “I’m not leaving.”

It inspired another keening sound. He shuffled closer, pressing against you with near desperation, as if he wanted to crawl inside your skin. Which meant the ‘problem’ was now nestled flat to your stomach. Your walls ached, imagining that urgency bearing down on you.

Swallowing, clearing your raw throat, you reached, trembling, for one of his slack arms. Tracing down his forearm, until you could clasp your hand with his. You guided him to your front. To where you wanted him most.

The instant his skin grazed your stomach, he latched on. Dipping low, beneath clothes without any help. Slipping easily further, past your sensitive clit. You jumped, mouth parting when he pushed two fingers inside.

“So wet fo’ me,” he near slurred. He lapped at your skin. Close to your artery. It had you shiver. Imagine the sharp teeth he could bury into you.

“Yeah,” you breathed, pushing at his shoulders. Unexpected as it was, the creature lost balance. Toppling back, elbows barely catching him. The first sign of anger threaded into his face, gums baring, eyes widening in an uncanny manner—but mellowed out when you crawled after him, your lips lifting up at such unbridled emotion. He had never shown it so cleanly. “All for you.”

Maybe you looked hungry to him, cheeky. All you heard was a bristle like he was offended by his own trembling desire. The twitch of interest of his cock. The curl of fingers with too sharp nails.

“Want to be inside me?” you whispered, climbing over him. Purposely rubbing your clothed pussy over him. His teeth gritted, something dangerous flashing through his eyes. “Want to cum for me?”

The flash returned. Brighter. Nails biting into the ground, grass blades splitting. You braved grabbing those tense arms. His wrists, holding them down with the certainty he’d snap.

And by the looks of it, by the shadow of madness flickering wildly in his impossibly wide eyes—

You sat down. Right over him.

—he was too far gone to care.

The response was immediate. His face changed, teeth protruding like jagged blades. His upper body shot up. A screech roared into your face, chittering up his throat. Claws clamped down onto your waist. You had no time to admire his other face.

He drew you up as if you were nothing. Dragged you past the house, behind it, the steady glow of street lights fading, to the garden you tried to tidy and make into something more inviting.

You gasped as he lifted you up, roughly seating you onto the picnic table you had placed there. A more private spot, thankfully. The wood dug into your flesh. His claws followed, yanking on your shorts, ripping it and your underwear down impatiently. Baring skin to cool air and beady eyes. An appreciative chitter met you.

What could be playing in that head of his?

With the steady roll of growls that left the creature, more beast than man now, you had a pretty good guess. His shoulders were raised, stiff. Still, you spread your legs, heat searing in your core at the sight of his bristling need. Melting you from inside out. Dropping your gaze, his cock had those same dark veins. Same texture as his skin.

Would it feel different? Taste different?

He made to move, grasping your thighs with the intention of parting them wider—but your hand was faster, encircling him. Tugging. As if the touch shocked him, his face reverted. Not smiling. Not showing anything but hunger in the pits of his eyes.

Wetness dripped down to the table as you guided him forward, slotting him between your legs. He followed like a thrall, hands planting themselves beside your hips.

“Come on then.” Your eyes narrowed. You rubbed his head against you, the slick sound making you grin. His head nestled against your hole, waiting for that one final push. “You’d be mine is what you told me.”

“Always,” he whispered.

You faltered, muscles weakening—

Gasped when he pushed forward, entering you smoothly. Your head fell back as he stretched your walls, heat snapping up your spine. The creature didn’t stop until he was flush against you. His eyes had closed when you straightened. Lips parted.

“Always,” he repeated. Heat flared up your cheeks at the reverence in his tone. Was it… real? For you?

“Then show me.”

His eyes snapped open. Whatever spell came over him broke like a lock. Searing hunger returned from its cage, making your breath stutter.

“You,” he hissed, “will bear this until the end of time.”

Your top was lifted off before you could comprehend it. Back slamming into the wooden surface below you, knocking air out. The cool surface had you yelp as it touched heated skin.

Fingers grabbed your hips, bringing you closer to the edge of the table. To him. There was no hesitation in his movements, nothing but a sense of urgency as he pulled back, only to fill you again. Slamming into you, jostling the table with the force.

You sought purchase when the next thrust proved equally as harsh, digging into wood, grasping the edges, his hands—even as he growled in warning. You only held onto him tighter.

The pace he set was brutal, chest bouncing with every thrust, the picnic table squeaking as it skidded. All you could do was bite your lip, keep your cries quiet, and hope no one in the house heard.

“Good,” he murmured, frustratingly even. “You already understand no one else gets to hear you. Next time I’ll make you loud.”

A whine pushed past your lips. Latching onto his quiet promise. Heat coiled in your belly fast. The creature looked at all of you as if he didn’t know what he liked seeing most. Your face. Your heaving chest and tensing stomach. Thighs that trembled. Your pussy that wrapped around him perfectly.

He groaned as you clenched harder, bending over you to clamp down on a nipple. You cried out, but his hand shot up to muffle it. Teeth snapped into your skin, a ring of pain circling your bud. Another cry tried to find passage. He only pressed down harder. Same as his teeth. All until skin broke, flesh splitting. Hot liquid trickled over your chest.

Muscles convulsed underneath his weight, your hands trying to push him away. His teeth slid free, human and blunt and red. The sting fueled the fire in your loins. Walls clenching until you were sure he’d get stuck.

He didn’t. His hips pistoned against you still, the cowboy rising with a triumphant grin. He watched the bleeding ringlet, purring and unblinking. Having found a spot to focus a little longer on.

Then he released you, pulled you up. Spun you around to bend you over. Too fast for you to comprehend. One second you saw him, and now—

Smooth wood and potted flowers and the back of the house—

He slammed back inside, hitting too deep like this. You lifted with a whine, feet kicking out. A warm palm shoved you down.

“Take it,” he growled, words rumbling with an odd undertone, grabbing your hip. Drawing back, filling you without mercy, his head hitting a painfully sensitive spot. “Take all of me.”

And you did. You lied down. Kept your ass up. Despite the table digging cruelly into your thighs, the bleeding ringlet. Despite the stinging slap he delivered to your cheek.

Once.

You babbled, heard him chuckle.

Twice.

A scream formed and died.

Thrice. Harder. Both hands grabbed your hips. Fucking inside your fluttering hole as if he wanted to melt into you

The wet slide would embarrass you in the morning. Currently, it spun the coil tighter. And tighter. His length dragging over sensitive walls, hitting places you couldn’t reach with your fingers alone.

Pain and pleasure entwined, meeting at your core.

Rising when he bent over you, his clothed front flush to your back. Close to cresting when his hand wormed between wood and skin to find—

You gasped. That one touch tipped the heat into an inferno. This time you couldn't bite it back down. The scream that stuttered in your throat, growing louder with every merciless thrust. Until fingers slipped over your cheek, under your jaw. Two entering your gaping mouth. Pressing your tongue down. You bit him. Skin tearing as you shook and clenched and—

He shushed you, whispering things you couldn't comprehend, but quietened you down. Enough to see light burst behind your eyes. Light that traveled down your nerves, licking a path of fire to every nook. Gathering hot electricity in your loins. And as your walls milked him—he groaned, human and broken—stilling, buried deep.

His cock twitched, warmth filling you up. You whimpered, knees knocking together at the sensation. The emptiness in your head flooded out, cracking you open to reality.

The cowboy—a monster—draped over you. Purring reverberated against you, caged as you were beneath him. He nuzzled against you, massaging your hip. Slipping his fingers free from you in time with his softening cock.

Soreness floated up like an afterthought. There the second you focussed on it. Whispering quiet agony over most of your body.

Your heart didn’t calm from its crescendo. It rose. Understood what lay over you. What no longer was influenced by a drug of sorts. You stiffened. He noticed. Of course he did. The purring stopped. His motions ceasing.

“I suppose it's time to show you now.”

Blandness infiltrated his words like poison. As if nothing had happened. He pulled back. Not fully. He spread you open, gaze burning into your most vulnerable parts. Puffy, sore and slick from his roughness.

"Beautiful."

You didn’t struggle when he lifted your feet one by one, drawing your clothes back on. Nor did you complain when he pulled you up, helping you back in your shirt—not without gently tracing the bleeding bitemark first. His healed fingers disappeared behind you, returning clean. Your toes curled, heart skipping a beat. He kept you steady on your shaky legs.

Offered an arm as if he hadn’t pounded you within an inch of your life.

The creature appeared fully back in control. If anything… he looked calmer.

A shriek nearby is what had you grab the crook of his elbow. What had you huddle closer when he steered you back to the front of the house. Other creatures still roamed, paying both of you no heed.

“Mind picking that up for me?”

You blinked, looking down… at his hat. A jitter went through your arm as you reached for it. Touching something so entwined with his persona had a forbidden tinge to it. You picked it up, handing it over.

The hat found its way back to his head as if it never left. He implored you to put your slippers back on, lost somewhere between him using your mouth and getting dragged away.

Then he tugged you along. Further from civilization. Away from safety. You had already signed your fate the second you placed your hand in his the first time. And now you did it again, accepting his guidance.

He didn’t speak, paving a sure path straight to the forest. You weren’t sure what to say yourself, overwhelmed as you were. Your mind tried to make sense of it. Of the ache between your legs, shooting down your thighs. The chafing of fabric over a bitemark. Of him.

Him and his calm. His spend dripping from your pussy, ruining your underwear.

Perhaps that was why you barely noted the cool air or how much time passed. Trees growing thicker and plentiful the deeper you went. Fatigue pulled on your eyelids, draping them shut. Not once did he let you stumble despite it.

Eventually, under the careful watch of a lowering moon, you came across a small hill, a crevice beneath. He tugged you in front of him. “I wanted it to be here,” he murmured, gently pushing you to the dark crack, wide enough to fit through. Your feet wanted to skid, to dig heels into the leaf covered soil. You stopped that urge. Facing whatever lay behind that shadowy darkness.

The stone walls prodded at your skin as you went inside. The creature followed closely, as if worried the rabbit would escape his maw.

What hit you first was the scent. Sweet. Floral.

Inside, the moon cut through from an opening above, lighting the small cavern. You faltered in the middle, gazing around. Flowers, pressed and dried decorated the rounded walls. Fresher ones lay in the middle. Surrounding what was an imitation of a bed. Blankets and pillows crowned by flowers.

Your flowers.

And that was what hit you next.

“You were going to kill me here…”

He stepped closer, his body heat touching you.

“I was.”

His arms wound around your waist, face dropping to your shoulder.

“Not anymore.”

The sickest part was… you believed him. Trusted him. It shouldn’t be rewarded with loyalty. Not from a being like him.

Shakily, you placed your own hands on his. Head leaning against his. A quiet purr left him.

That small piece of inhumanity is what hit you hardest. Tears welled in your eyes, freely dripping down your cheeks to splatter on soft petals and cold stone.

He held you.

And if asked, you now knew the answer.

He’d hold you…

A laugh bubbles out of you, disbelieving. “Now isn’t really the best time to be making jokes,” you roll your eyes, reaching for the door knob.

She lunges forward, slamming her weight into the other side, knocking you back just as you’ve started to push it open. It clicks shut once more, the sound of the lock being twisted into place following right after.

Your gaze snaps to the sky, checking the position of the sun. It’s low. Hidden. The blue shadow of dusk has already started to crawl over the town. Your breath catches, mouth running dry. Fingers tighten around the knob and you slam your shoulder into it, barely noticing the sting. “Clara, this isn’t funny, let me in!”

She shakes her head once, a cold denial. “I can’t. I’m sorry,” her voice shakes, “I wanna go home.”

Your head swivels wildly, searching the shadows for any sign of movement. Some of the creatures were early risers, out with the first sign of night. It was hard to tell when the first of them would appear.

“Clara,” you soften your voice, unable to keep the tremble out of it, “this isn’t going to get you home. If you leave me out here, you’re killing me,” you try to meet her eyes but she’s closed hers, palms pushed into her eye sockets. “This place, it lies, but you can still fix this. Just open the door. I won’t tell anyone,” you jerk at the knob, twist it as harshly as you can, press your foot into it and push. Still, it doesn’t budge.

She reaches for the curtains. Your curtains. You picked them from the storage room with Tian-Chen months before her death, one of the last memories you had with her.

“Please,” you beg one last time, tears starting to well up in your eyes.

She pulls them closed.

“You fucking bitch!” Your fist slams into the wood of the door, rattling it slightly, “I never should have let you in here.”

You don’t wait for an answer. She probably wouldn’t have the decency to offer one anyway. The porch creaks as you scramble down the steps, looking around for the closest building.

The diner.

Someone would open the door. They had to.

You start in that direction, breathless. A flash of white rounds the corner of the diner, stopping you dead in your tracks. The bride creature.

They’re here.

Her features are hard to make out behind her veil, but you know she’s seen you from the way she pivots, turning away from the side of the diner to move slowly in your direction.

Your lungs burn with each rattling breath as you turn again, putting your back to the predator behind you in an attempt at escape. Time feels as if it has slowed down, the grass beneath your feet turning to quicksand as you run. Each step feels fought for, like the town itself is trying to offer you up to the monster you flee from.

You trip over your feet, clumsy in your desperation, a prey animal made foolish.

Thoughts flash through your mind like lightning. The lake, a bush, up a tree, one of the abandoned vehicles. Places to hide, all without the safety of a talisman. All a gamble.

Which is the best?

You cut back toward your house, turning the corner and flattening yourself against the wall, taking a moment to catch your breath and gather your thoughts.

A new thought flashes to the forefront. It’s crazy. It’s stupid.

It’s the best idea you’ve had since that door closed.

You turn toward the treeline.

It takes you about twelve steps into the trees to realize what a bad decision you’ve made.

They’re everywhere.

You press yourself into a tree, squeezing your eyes shut as the nurse passes by, praying with everything within you that she doesn’t stop. Doesn’t see you. Her mere presence is enough to make the hair at the back of your neck stand, joints threatening to lock up, to trap you in this spot, unwilling to let you move.

Your prayer is answered.

Until it’s not.

The breath of relief that escapes you when the nurse passes you by causes her to freeze, head slowly turning to look over her shoulder. A wave of ice rushes through your veins, your blood running cold as you stumble back, abandoning your pursuit of stealth in the name of escape.

There’s too many of them between you and the town you left for the trees, so your only choice is to keep going.

She shrieks. Loud, piercing, and terrifying. An alert to all the creatures nearby that she’s found prey.

Branches snap.

Creatures you hadn’t even noticed suddenly stepping out from behind trees, surrounding you. It’s sheer luck that you dodge the strong, muscled creature that steps into your path, nearly catching you in his arms. A choked sob tears from your throat as you trip, knees slamming harshly into the rough forest floor. Twigs and rocks dig into your skin, the pajama shorts you’d slid on in preparation for bed offering little to no protection.

You dig your hands into the ground, unwilling to stop for even the time it would take you to stand, rushing forward in a half-run, half-crawl that quickens when another shriek sounds from somewhere to your left. Too close.

Your leg catches on another branch, sending you sprawling toward the ground again, a cry of fear echoing from your lips for only half a second before your stomach meets the forest floor, the breath knocked from your lungs in a sudden burst of air. You wheeze, seeing stars, tears soaking your cheeks.

The odds of finding a place to hide has plummeted to zero. You consider giving up, then immediately shove the thought away, rolling pitifully away from the Milkman’s reaching hands. It’s hard to find your feet again but somehow you manage, blinking away the dizziness through force of will.

The cave entrance comes into view.

You hope that the lack of sun has brought them all out as you lunge for it, hurriedly swiping at your knees in an attempt to wipe the blood oozing from the scrapes away so that it wouldn’t drip onto the ground in a path straight to you.

It’s darker inside. The deeper you go, the harder to see it gets, the moonlight unable to reach. Your breath echoes off the stone, the sound of dripping water somewhere in the distance. Other than that, it’s silent.

You feel the foolish urge to call out.

Stifle it.

Nothing kind would answer.

You keep walking, hands out in front of you to keep yourself from bumping into anything. There are tunnels, dirt crunching underfoot as you follow one, turning the corner and—

Outstretched hands bump against a clothed chest.

Your lips part in preparation to scream when a warm hand closes over your mouth, another curling around your arm, tugging you close.

“Hush now,” the creature’s voice comes out in a lazy drawl, his hold unbreakable, “let’s not draw the other’s attention just yet. It ain’t every day a little lamb delivers themselves right to me,” he chuckles, amused, “and isn’t it just my luck that it’s you?”

You push uselessly at his wrist, muffled cries drowned out by his hand as he pushes you against the stone wall.

“Shh,” his fingers card through your hair in what you think is an attempt at comfort, your mind unable to comprehend anything except for the lack of pain. He’s not yanking, not tearing the hair from your scalp, just stroking.

He pulls his hand just far enough away from your mouth to let you breathe, his thumb gently trailing along your bottom lip. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark enough to make out the silhouette of a hat atop his head. You know this creature.

He killed Tian-Chen.

No—he held Boyd in place while others did.

God, you used to read to him. With him.

“Please just make it fast,” your chest heaves as you look up at him, a pathetic mess of tears and snot, “please.”

These things don’t care about your pleading. Everyone begs. Everyone dies screaming.

Warm lips brush against your cheek. No teeth. A tongue follows, tracing a tear streak up to just below your eye. It lingers, warm and wet, before finally pulling away. “I said hush,” he says smoothly, “ain’t no fun in you begging like that.”

Your focus snags on the words ‘like that’. Your eyes burn with more unshed tears. He still wants you to beg, just not like that.

Your head tilts back against the stone, eyes squeezed shut as you sob, lips pressed into a thin line to keep from making any noise.

His hands cup your cheeks, burning hot despite what he is. Thumbs brush across your cheeks, a bit too forceful, as if gentleness is a concept he hasn’t quite grasped yet.

You stare up at him, lips trembling as he wipes away your tears. He glances down at his glistening fingers curiously before his gaze catches yours once more and he offers you a smile you can only just make out in the dark. Human teeth gleam at you. Not the sharp, abyssal, angler-fish like teeth they wear in their other form.

He looks down, staring at something—your lips, maybe? But why—

His mouth closes on yours.

It doesn’t hurt. Your mind latches onto that, clings to it—wants to keep it that way so badly that your lips respond, moving in tandem with his. His lips are soft. Warm. Gentle. He’s being so, so very gentle. His hands stay against your cheeks, tilting your head upward to give himself better access. His tongue traces your bottom lip, prods against it, seeking entrance to your mouth the way he seeks entrance to the houses back in town—cruelly, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a trickster.

This isn’t real.

It can’t possibly be real.

Your fingers twitch with need that somehow calls to him and he answers instantly, his hands leaving your cheeks to tangle with yours. He lifts them above your head, pressing them into the rough cave wall, circling both your wrists with only one of his hands before he pulls back to look down at you, an unrecognizable glint in his eyes.

“Please,” you repeat, though what you’re begging for, you don’t know.

He sighs, tapping his pointer finger against your lips. “You aren’t ready yet. That’s okay,” his head tilts toward something deeper in the tunnel where you can’t see, “you’ll get there. I think I’m gonna keep you.”

He pulls away, dropping your wrists. His hand catches yours again. “Come on. Wouldn’t do to have the others notice you just yet. I ain’t the only one who wants a taste of you.”

Your eyes widen. Flashes of the nurse, the bride, the tough guy flood your mind. Images of those sharp, blade teeth tearing at skin play out like a bad dream behind your eyes.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

be sure to keep your eyes peeled for your favorite creature feature!

coming to theaters (tumblrs) near you!

-nora

It had been a while since the car stopped moving. Your body ached from the way you had slid with every wide, screeching turn. You listened, breath shallow and shuddering.

There was cussing.

“Piece of shit thing. Can’t… believe this… right now.”

Mostly anything else was too muffled to hear. You didn’t know what to do. Didn't know where you were. Aside from his drunken slurring, nothing penetrated through the car’s hull. Your eyes flickered in the dark, the slightest sliver of light pouring from where the trunk sat cracked open. For oxygen.

I ain’t fucking a corpse.

You inhaled quickly, the drug in your veins not allowing you anything else. If it did, you would’ve jumped at his loud exclamation.

“Hey! You got some gas in this bitch, or what?”

He must be talking to someone. There was a person there. People who could help you. Your fingers bend against the coarse interior you lay on. He had been smart enough to put tape over your mouth, your already weak croaks silenced.

A sound of disgust left him. “He fucking ignored me, dickhead.” Scuffling followed. “Oh, you work here too?” There was a pause, as if he waited for an answer. “Great, you can help me then, cause your shithead coworker couldn’t be bothered.”

“Of course, what seems to be the problem?” Your heart stammered, jaw twitching. There really was someone. A man. Your eyes darted along that tiniest crack as quickly as they could, trying to find the strength to move, your heavy tongue working inside your mouth, but producing no sound.

“I’ll tell you, you wannabe cowboy fuck. Your gas station doesn’t have any fucking gas.”

Tears threatened to fall again, sight growing blurry as every attempt continued to fail.

“That is quite bad.”

“Yeah it is, I got places to be and thi—hey what are you doing?” A grunt of exertion, more scuffling and—

“Let go of me.”

—fear.

Something ripped wetly, liquid spraying audibly to the ground. A scream left him. Pained. Disbelieving. Raising the hairs on your arms as the pitch turned high. “Holy shit, holy shit.” A thump shook through the car, jostling you slightly.

Your breath slowed in a vain attempt to grasp what was happening. The other man—

“No, stay the fuck away from me.”

“Try running then,” the voice said brightly.

—was he attacking…?

Another thud followed. This time as if someone fell to the ground. Whimpering cries and profanities turning hoarse with terror, shuffling along as if he was—was crawling.

A slow, steady pace chased after him, rounding the car together with those sounds of pain.

Your heartbeat skipped, trying to speed up past the drug’s effect. Desperately, you peered through the crack, a shape beginning to move past it. Further away.

Your kidnapper, your husband took a heaving breath. “Fuck you—aah!”

More of those ripping sounds filled the air, barely kept out by the metal hull of the car. Nausea spun deep in your gut with every wet, squelching, splattering and spraying noise of flesh tearing apart. Accompanied by screaming and sobbing and pleads and—

Your name. Cries for help wrapping around your name.

And you cursed him.

Hoped above all hope that he wouldn't give you away. Subject you to whatever fate he was suffering. If you weren’t on the verge of throwing up, you’d have let dark satisfaction run its course.

He deserved to die. Deserved this pain.

But you couldn’t help the internal flinch when bone cracked, dizziness spinning through your belly. Snapped. Not once. Not twice, but many, many times. Squelshing following.

No coherent words came from him anymore. Only weak, gurgling sobbing, his throat probably bleeding from the screams his killer drew from him.

It felt like hours had passed, your body slowly regaining some strength. Bringing a pulse along that thudded irregularly. Vision blurring, limbs twitching uselessly.

And even as the screams died down, as the realisation he was dead settled deep and cold under your skin, the wet sounds didn’t stop.

You pressed your eyes shut, got close to praying that he wouldn’t find you. Please, God…

Don’t let me be found.

Seconds passed, your mind trying to count them. Giving up as you reached into the thousands. Starting again when the most hair raising screech came from somewhere far away. Goosebumps settled along your skin.

An animal. It had to be.

All fell into silence. Not even the car popped or creaked anymore, having settled a long time ago. The scuff of shoes grazed over the ground.

Steps came next.

Steps that got closer.

Ice poured over your clammy skin, limbs twitching. Come on, move. You looked at your hands. Move.

The shape returned. Bigger. Closer. Taking more light away. There it remained. Standing as if it knew you were there. Relishing in the wait. A soft brush trailed over the car. Fingers slowly curled inside and under the hood.

Your throat tightened.

Sweat slick eyelids clenching together as a creaking sound split the night, more light flooding inside to stab you in the eyes.

“Well howdy there, neighbour.”

Wannabe cowboy fuck.

The hat resting on his head was in pristine condition, as if it were a prized possession. A pale color, snared by a dark band, its exact shade hard to tell with red, neon light snagging onto it. The rest of him—

Dark red stained his fingers. His otherwise friendly grin made horrific by the blood smearing over his face, culminating at his lips and dripping down to his chin.

Had he used his teeth?

The trunk was opened wider, eyes that stared unblinkingly taking you in. There was glee there, in those wide, wide pupils. And you knew your end would be just as gruesome.

Tears trickled down your face, leaking from one eye to the other. He watched you. No. Scrutinized you. As if he sensed something you couldn’t.

“Isn’t it just my lucky day.”

He flashed a softer smile, and you had to wonder if he understood how terrifying it looked. His gaze fell down to your hands. Blood soaked fingers lifted one, the left, gently cradling it and spreading your own fingers. He reached, tracing the band there that meant nothing to your now dead husband. Wouldn’t mean anything to anyone soon.

Blood stained the gold. Stained your skin.

A prickle of disgust intertwined with the haze of fear.

Carefully, he slid it off, lifting, and twisting it to study the names on the inside. The date when you unknowingly doomed yourself to years of silent suffering.

“You won’t be needing this anymore, dollface.” His tone remained polite. Contrasting with the sheer terror trying to rush energy to your unresponsive body, and the smugness etched on his features.

The man pocketed your ring, looking down at you. “Now then…” He grabbed the tape over your mouth next, an iron tang raising from his skin. “This’ll sting a bit.” Ripped it off in one go. Pain bloomed over your mouth, but you could only let out the tiniest croak. He grinned at that, gaze softening. “I believe it’s your lucky day too.”

Those bloodied hands moved you around, carding beneath your knees and shoulders. More kindly than you expected. Heaved you up with nary a sign of strain. Cool air drifted over your skin. He brought you close, the scent of copper rusting inside your nose to the point you could taste it.

He positioned you so your head nestled in the crook of his neck. If he propped you up a little higher, your face would get smudged with blood, that dark red all you saw when you looked up.

He had pretended to be kind with your dead—murdered, tortured—husband too. His chest shook with quiet laughter at your twitches, your attempts to move, flee. With a spin of his heel, he twisted around.

In the corner of your eyes, you saw him. What remained of him. Slow, heavy breaths pushed from your struggling lungs. Your body unable to feed you the amount of oxygen needed, panic knotting in the only thing still functioning; your mind.

With slow steps, he started towards the remains. And you wanted to look, wanted to see how miserable his end was.

But it would be your end too.

A reflection.

Some feet away, he stopped, lowering you until your feet settled on the ground, his arms winding around your waist to keep you up. One of his hands slipped up, wrapping over your throat, pressing against the pulse trying so hard to bring you to motion. Fingers locked under your jaw, tilting your heavy head up. Your eyes landing on the lump before you.

Nausea twisted, stomach and reflux working in tandem, but failing to push anything out.

He was red. From neck to toe, blood splattered all over what remained of him. The exception was his face, mouth slack, glassy, empty eyes staring to the side. Skin had been peeled back on the three limbs still attached to him. One of his calves—the bone was visible. So were his ribs, his chest cavity empty—

Your face paled.

There had been no tools on this man. None lay anywhere in your sight. Blood only sat on his hands and face.

But how did he—?

“I was in a good mood tonight,” the man keeping you steady murmured, lips brushing over your ear. Slowly, he helped you lower down onto your knees. That overwhelming stench of copper surrounding you to the point you wanted to gag. “I’m sure this sight pleases you. Maybe even more than me.”

He was going to kill you here, beside your former husband.

Beside the piece of shit who had betrayed your location, his remaining arm reaching towards the trunk, eyes rolled that way.

The man repositioned you to lean against his chest. All the while making sure your head never dropped. As if he wanted that mangled corpse to be all you saw.

“I won’t kill you, sweetheart. You’ll understand when you come home with me.”

Blood rushed from your face.

He was insane. From a kidnapper you could predict, to a stranger who—

“I’ll be better to you.” His hold remained gentle. Kind in a way you hadn’t experienced in so long. And something in his calm, light voice, in the way he rubbed a thumb into your hip like he knew you…

It made you believe him.