Part V of Pixie's StoryGet to know Pixie, the cute noobie from our original Passing Zephyr series:
Her dark past haunts Murderer's Bar (and his shirt) a while before
Miss Cecile's Story begins the seduction,
the Sexy Bartender gives his two cents
while Miss Sweet observes them all.
Pixie's memories from before meeting Miss Sweet began in Part 1 continuing with a lusty trip to the bar in Part II. She got more than she could handle in Part III and the terror continued last week in Part IV. Pixie cozies right up this week in Part V, but will Murderer gift us with her rescue on Christmas next Saturday in the finalé?
There was nothing to judge the passage of time. No clock, no window, no routine. Her stomach roiled, not from hunger but fearful anticipation. Had it been hours or days?
She could feel insanity inching along her spine and hovering at the dark edges of her mind. Her automatic mental defense against the screaming abyss was hyper vigilance. Attuned to every noise and breeze. Monitoring the massive mute beast and analyzing it all. Her brain was shooting out motives and plans with varying degrees of morbidity and detached psychopathic glee. Perhaps she was already on a twisted path to crazy but it was better than succumbing to a coma of fright.
Her data soothed her, a pewter shield of control. Useless but comforting. She knew there was a food preparation area right outside the wall, boiling water and rushing faucets betrayed the appliances while the luscious smell of fresh baked bread and apple roasted pork slithered under the door to further humiliate her into a drooling mess.
A whisper of rustling distracted her from imagining the savory feast and she strained to locate its position. In relationship to her it sounded lower and hollow but just when she thought she had discovered a rat under the floor boards the familiar heavy boots of that massive mute beast began to move towards her. Again.
She closed her eyes and struggled against her rapidly beating heart to feign sleep once again but she was too hyped up and he was too big.
Oh God, so big. She was denting her own shield with thoughts like that.
Each step closer. One creak before the door and two creaks and an echo before he was in touching distance of her again. But wait. No echo this time.
And then he was next to her. Touching her. Petting her hair. Wrapping it around his massive hands. "Ohmygod ohmygod ohdearlord God In Heaven Help Me Save Me. Oh oh oh oh oh." The pewter shield was bending as the screams resonated in her skull.
He yanked her head back with a snap. Hair ripped out of her scalp with that blazing snap and streaked fire across her head.
Her eyes flew open and tears clustered in her lashes as he grinned, the first emotion she had seen from him. Joy spread across his face as he bowed her neck in a vulnerable arc, his tongue tracing a slimy wet path from collarbone to the tip of her chin.
She squeezed her eyes shut against the crazy glee. If she didn't look at the monster, he wasn't there? A silent hysterical laugh sounded in her head. She wasn't a child and this wasn't the monster under the bed. No. Much worse. The monster ON the bed. She shuddered as adrenaline pumped through her, even though neither fight or flight were an option she had right now.
He wrapped his gargantuan body around her bound shape and settled with her on the bed, her hair still fisted between his fingers.
Stillness invaded his limbs as the adrenaline withered in her cells. W-was she some kind of teddy bear. W-was he sleeping?! Blackness came before her brain could formulate a probable answer and straighten out her pewter shield.
Oscillating gray became her world once again. A second defense against the insanity of the reality her body currently occupied. Her mind attempted to protect her from the truth. Butchering time into bite-size chunks between unconsciousness.
Dreams invaded her thoughts to the point where she couldn't distinguish the fantasy from the horrible truth.
Monsters slept at her side, holding tight with claws sunk deep into her flesh.
Corpses cozied close, the perfume of death wafting from their open screaming mouths.
Rats scrabbling underneath the thin plywood floor just waiting for the chance to feast on her fresh meat.
He was gone again.
Come back next Saturday for Murderer's addition to the story...