#horror lover

vincent was unusual for how he expressed his emotions.

you knew this, but you liked it, you really liked it.

when he’d cry, you’d never know until you heard a faint sniffle or a broken breath. and if you’d coo him loudly, he’d stiffen. you had to learn to move slowly, just gently scoot closer and hold him tight, comfort him with soft words.

but each time he felt your comfort, his rigidness softened quicker than the time before, eventually when he trusted you more, he’d walk up and just bury himself into your neck when he got sad.

one emotion vincent really struggled to express clearly was anger. especially to you, he very very rarely confronted you.

so when you pissed him off he just straight up ignored you, it’s not that he didn’t want to work it out, or that he wasnt affected, he just didn’t know how to express it. he wouldn’t look at you either, hiding out in the basement as he spent all his time sculpting.

as when he’s infatuated he’s the opposite. he just stares at you fondly with low eyes, following you around like a dog, unable to leave your side, making you jump when you quickly turn and forget he’s there, his stillness eerie. it can get creepy, if you let it.

so you’d have to guess what you did wrong, he’d faintly nod his head yes when you got it, but he wouldn’t give you attention again until you apologized, sincerely.

but when it came to you? and he did something wrong, and you got upset? he wouldn’t let you ignore him even a little, it wasn’t an option.

he’d pester you until you opened up, he didn’t take brushing it off as an answer. you’d tell him a million times it’s nothing, and your fine, but he’s still signing

are you sure?.. tell me?..

over and over until you had no choice but to give in. vincent was very unfair that way.

he had a absent way of expressing how you affected him, you’d kiss his neck deeply, feeling his head tilt back a little, and when you stopped, and he looked down, you couldn’t tell if he liked it. eye staring at you blankly, unblinking, like he wasn’t sure how to feel.

then you’d bump the hard tent in his pants, and he couldn’t look back down at you, turning away and hiding his face behind his long black hair. it was like the only normal part of him was his dick.

he’d faintly buck his hips with need if you stalled to touch him.

he’d still show it though. just maybe not in the moment, staring down at you when you knelt for him, expressionless through the eye holes of his mask.

the hardest twitch you felt was his dick throb in throat. his hands just slightly trembled in comparison, abruptly pulling and tangling when the pleasure got too much.

you loved giving him head for that reason, it was when you got the most reaction from him, you’d focus on his tip just to hear the strained sounds, when he couldn’t help but loose himself.

he’d show it after, when his legs mostly relaxed, pulling you ontop of him. he breathed shaky breaths as he caged you in, careless to the mess he trapped you into.

he was the most vocal too, while he had you bound to him, his arms firm as he held you to his chest.

you could hear his soft sounds, as his high came down, with your weight atop him.

Clairet gasped, waking up in the same sleep room she had been inhabiting for..she actually doesn’t know how long. She’s lost track of the days and doesn't bother trying to ask the nurse or engineer, they’d just lie, or so she thinks. Sitting up she looked around at the drab room, she never bothered to decorate, why would she? Clairet didn't plan on staying long, she was going to get experience under her belt and get the hell out of there.

She heard through the grapevine, or rather in the terminal, that there was a new prime asset. A mannequin lady, what the hell was that supposed to mean? Enough standing around she needed to get it done. No new prime asset was going to stand in her way of freedom.

Freedom, it’s funny really. That’s exactly what she thought she was going to have when she took that bite of the doctor's neck. With the blood dripping down her face, Clairet was tackled to the ground just meters away from the door she just walked through willingly. She didn’t have a name before this, just ‘girl’, ‘woman’, ‘psycho bitch’ always sufficed. The blonde nurse gave her the name Clairet.

“You took quite a bite there love, looks like you were drinking wine with his blood. Hm, I think Clairet would be a very sufficient name for you, don’t you think? It’s the name of wine.”

Now she was stuck with it, at least it was a pretty name.

Fingers dashing across the terminal board, Clairet thought it would be a good idea to try that new prime asset map. ‘Liliya Bogomolova..’ Why couldn’t she get a name like that? The siren blared, she walked into the shuttle, stomach dropping as it moved down. Clairet took her seat, bracing herself for the hallucinations she would endure for the brief two minutes of the shuttle’s departure to the estate.

Once the shuttle stopped moving and the cuffs lifted off her, she stood up shaking her head. “I sure hope I get used to that.” But enough dilly dallying, it was time to face the unknown. Holy fuck was the unkown cold. Teeth chattering, breath clouding in the air, her hands rubbing her arms rapidly. Clairet wobbled to the bright red generator and began pulling the handle. The bright red engine came to life and glorious warmth bursted inside the heater. After warming herself up Clairet decided to continue onwards. After walking towards the building she realized it needed a key, of course it did. Weaving around gates and random junk in the way, she came to the garage looking door and began lifting it up.

Once it was fully raised Clairet slipped underneath and pulled down her night vision goggles, it was still cold inside but much better than whatever frozen hell laid outside.

“Right..now where is that key..” Just ahead laid the ‘Stag Room’, inspecting the room Clairet realized she needed to power off the mannequin so its hand would open and give her the key. So she went looking for the batteries in the small cabin-like area. She hopped over a wall, landing right next to one of the batteries. She dismantled it, stuffed the battery in her pocket and went to find the next. After looking in the few other rooms Clairet walked into the kitchen area, her foot barely touched the glass as it crackled underneath her weight. “Shit.” she cursed and jumped into a nearby barrel to hide in. The shuttle door alarm blared and a huge scream raved through the quiet. Clairet rolled her eyes thinking ‘Of course, the Pitcher. How nice it must be to carry bottles of fire around in this frozen waste of space.’

After hiding in the barrel for what felt like fifteen minutes, Clairet finally jumped out. She stretched her limbs and continued searching for the last battery, she had just gotten the second one right before entering the kitchen. She peered over the dividing wall and spotted the last battery. With the last one dismantled a low huff of a stag echoed through the speakers. The key was now loose and ready for taking. Clairet walked back to the Stag Room and grabbed the key. “Now the fun begins.”

She walked back to the main door and unlocked it, pushing open the double doors a burst of warm air hit her face. Her shoulders relaxed, immediately walking towards the fireplace. The double doors closed behind her with a soft thud, it was quiet again except for the soft crackling of the fire. Once she was satisfied with the temperature her body was enduring, Clairet stood up and began looking around. It all made sense now, the mannequins all looked alike, purple and gold wearing some sort of crown. Is this why all the reagents were calling the new asset ‘Manniquin Lady’, because she was obsessed with these mannequins?

Regardless of the awkward scenery Clairet moved forward to the shuttle doors, it whisked behind her, opening up a new room. It was much smaller than the main entrance, a middle wall separating two sections of the room. On the other side, a button, a huge glass window and curtains on the other side of the glass. Clairet slammed her hand on the glowing red button, the curtains began to drape apart. There was a man, a screaming woman and what looked like a round table with even more mannequins. It was hard to tell with the dim lighting but it didn't take long until the man noticed Clairet.

“Please. Open the door! She could be in here, get me out of here!” the man pleaded.

That’s when it happened, one of the crowned mannequins came to life. Clairet’s eyes beamed with interest, stepping closer to the glass to get a better look. The mannequin, now assumed to be Lilliya, jumped on the man’s back and began stabbing him in the chest. After a few slashes she leaped off his back and slashed the back of him, along with the nap of his neck. The man fell to the floor, a thud echoing with the woman’s screams who Clairet still couldn't see. Lilliya stepped back onto the rim of the circle barrier, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I am the way.”

She fell back into the light, disappearing without a trace. The mannequin next to the button began moving, gesturing towards the sign that read ‘Silent Auction’ on a plaque above the door.

“How much would you give to take part in salvation?”