A story originally presented in serial over the past 6 Saturdays.
Written by Miranda.
Pixie was still getting used to the strange dynamic within Miss Sweet's household.
It was a household, even though to many it appeared a simple bar. Above the smokey hardwood serving area were two stories of clean living space. And below, well, that was Miss Sweet's playroom. Don't go imagining a fully finished basement or something. No, way more fun than that. And way more dangerous.
Pixie knew about the extra curricular activities that went on downstairs, but she had never been invited to join in. Nor had she ever had the courage to ask.
But today was different.
Her courage had been slowly building along with her confidence over the past few weeks. Each night when she wasn't woken by screams or gunshots. Each morning when she dozed through an alarm instead of the rancid breath of teeth rotting in the head next to hers. She grew stronger.
And Miss Sweet watched over as she did all the others in her flock. A protective mother hen‚ but... no. That wasn't right. More like a beautiful and vicious hawk. Circling above her nest, ready to attack any threat. And not above pushing the fledgling out when they needed to learn to fly.
Pixie was sure her push would come, but she was also sure Miss Sweet would prepare her for that day. Armed and ready for the world again. To be her own person again, and not be defined by others.
Like that bastard Dante.
He had almost defined her as dinner. The perverted freak. And the worst part was, she had gone to him willingly. Unknowingly, but still of her own blind volition. He had seen her vulnerability and been drawn to it.
She had thought she had on a strong face. Brave and sexy and maybe even a little slutty. Anything to say, "Hey look at me. I'm young beautiful and you just might get some if you play your cards right." Yeah, well, she had gotten some. Way more than she could handle!
Thinking back... she had been fresh out of a broken relationship, the classic rebound girl.
No, she hadn't had a broken heart. Marcus had not been the forever type, but she had thought he could have at least been the faithful type! Nope. She had caught him jerking off on his webcam to some hottie two towns over. Worst part was, her coming into the room had NOT but a damper on things. In fact, she was pretty sure her screaming tirade had been what got him off.
Her pride in tatters and her labido far from satisfied, he had a nice cock no matter the circumstances, she had put on her tightest jeans, lowest cut shirt and darkest makeup and left his ass on the outside of her locked apartment door.
Heading to the bar, she ruefully acknowledged her already damp panties. She was going to be naughty tonight. Pick a guy and fuck him just like that. Hard and hot and no exchange of numbers please.
Strutting into her favorite techno place, she pounded two shots of her favorite tequila and settled down with a long island to find a bed warmer.
There were plenty of pretty boys strutting their stuff too, but they weren't much more than eye candy for her in this mood. Too much like Marcus and his bright white smile.
She needed a man that could handle her, manhandle her. The broader the shoulders, the bigger the arms the smaller she would feel and the more like a woman instead of an insignificant piece of garbage.
Her display of assets seemed to pull in quite a few fish but they all veered away once they got close enough to catch the vibe she was throwing. A cross between "I wanna fuck you like an animal" and "I'm gonna chew your dick off."
But one man kept his dark gaze on her.
Slouched in the corner, she couldn't quite make out his eye color or height, but as men passed by him she got an idea of his sheer breadth and it took her breath away.
He was the biggest one in the bar and he was the one she wanted.
Throwing back the last of her iced tea, she slid off the bar stool and bounced her way towards his darkened corner.
The techno rock made the shuttering lights feel alive and, for a moment, she felt as if a whole drove of fireflies danced with her across the room. A pleasant high from the alcohol.
By the time she readjusted her brain back into reality she was less than a foot from the slouching giant.
Fear skittered across her shoulder blades as she took in the immense mass of him. He was easily twice as wide as her, and his arms could have been mistaken for thighs if you ignored the stripes of black ink encircling them.
Common sense wormed in past the alcoholic haze and had her stepping back before turning away. He was TOO big. She DID feel small. Very, very, small.
Before she could complete her about face, he raised his hand to... offer her a drink? A fresh long island iced tea glistened between his fingers.
Her eyes shot up to his and a smile flowed across his face chased by a wink. He had been watching her too.
Not used to the game, sudden heat filled her face and she fumbled for the glass in hopes it would cool her head and gain her a moment to think of something to say.
His fingers dragged across hers, damp from the glass, and ran down her arm before dropping off her elbow to rest on his thigh. A very huge thigh. The massive strength of which was barely concealed beneath his crisp new dark blue jeans.
She could feel heat flood her body again, but this time not just her face. Some women loved a man's tight ass or rippling abs, but she was all about the thighs. Damn.
She could just picture herself riding that taunt muscle. Her moisture soaking through the clean denim. Her heat branding his skin.
He caught her staring.
Of course he was watching her, she was in his personal space.
Of course he noticed the blush on her cheeks as she became transfixed on his bent knee. Gulp after gulp of iced tea doing nothing for her internal body temperature.
A soft growling barely reached her ears as that knee bent a little more and he widened his stance, just enough room for her to fit in between. His fingers kneaded that huge muscle and she finally found the courage to let her eyes travel up and up to meet his.
There was a darkness there, but she told herself it was the shadows in the corner, because there also was a hunger. A hunger she felt echoed in her own eyes.
His smile was still in place, despite her hesitant eye contact, and she found herself relaxing inch by inch. The alcohol must finally be working the stagnant anger about her ex out of her muscles, even though she had never had it feel quite like this before.
Perhaps the man lounging in front of her was to blame. For surely she had never had such a heady combination of strong drinks and a strong man all at once!
He swept his arm out to the side, inviting her into the circle of his body. The usual alarm bells were muffled in her head. The call of his strength and his sex overrode the access code and she melted against his chest.
The soft growl was back again, this time vibrating against her ear as his arms and legs closed around her. He encased her completely with the techno music as soft as a lullaby and the heat of his body her favorite down blanket.
And then she passed out from the drugs in his drink.
It was grey dark when she woke up, and all the warmth of his body was gone, but somehow the strength remained. She was still wrapped up tight and secure but this was no down blanket holding her almost completely immobile.
She attempted to fight off the panic of waking in strange surroundings. There was always a moment of disorientation after a one night stand, especially if she was stupid enough to fall asleep.
Had she fallen asleep? Had the sex been that good? Strange, she couldn't remember the sex, but she ached in all the right places. Maybe he was just tangled in the blankets, and had tangled her too.
Waiting for her eyes to slowly adjust to the dim room, she tried to twist under the sheets and lay on her back.
The panic tightened her chest again, creeping up her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block out the new sensory input.
That could not have been what she had just seen.
A mummy hanging upside down in the far corner. It wasn't even near Halloween. It had to be the shadows playing tricks with her eyes. Just a tiny bit of light and shadows turn into monsters.
But opening her eyes, it was still there.
And she still couldn't move.
And her brain made the logical jump and then she started to scream. And scream, and scream. Because that was all she could do.
Because she was wrapped up like a mummy too.
The darkness sucked her in and the gray sucked her out. Oscillating between sleep and consciousness, her sense of time became fractured.
All she could see was the dangling body in the corner.
All she could hear was a dripping that drove her crazy.
She knew another drop would sound but never exactly when it would come. Sometimes it would wake her out of unconsciousness, as loud as a gong and causing her heart to beat wildly in her chest and drown out the sound.
Other times it would become a distant hum to the noise in her head and the lights behind her eyes.
And then he came.
The door opened spilling light across the floor and blinding her nocturnal sight.
With her senses reeling, each step across the room on hollow wooden floors pounded like a punch to her stomach. Vibrations and sounds becoming magnified in the stead of her deprived vision. But by the time her eyes adjusted, the door was shut and he was gone again. Along with the mummy. And the dripping.
Silence filled her ears and her head. The brief reprieve from the monster triggered a traitorous sliver of hope to wiggle under her skin.
She dozed lightly in a strange trance fighting back the nightmares of an idle mind, until she was roused to full consciousness by the comforting smell of fresh baked bread and apple roasted pork. Dinner?
That sliver of hope dug deeper into her tenderized mental state.
Was it possible his intentions were some twisted version of romance and not terrorism? Maybe she could charm her way out of these suffocating bindings. He would surely want to touch her bare skin. Wouldn't he? Her skin crawled at the disturbing images pacing just beneath the surface of her consciousness, nightmares of what a massive mute beast of a man might think was romantic on her skin. But she pushed them away and focused on the sharp stinging sliver and allowed the poison to fill her head. Better to dwell on the doubtful methods of survival than become consumed by certain death.
This time when she heard the door knob turn she squeezed her eyes tight against the light in hopes of glimpsing his body and perhaps his motives. But this time he came to her.
Steps approached slowly and solidly resonating against the wooden floor. She slit her eyes and struggled to keep her breathing below a sprinter's pace. His massive thighs came into her line of sight, no longer a stimulus to her libido but to her fear.
So large. He was so fucking huge. There was no way she could fight against whatever he wanted to do her. It had been burned into her consciousness hours ago that she was at his mercy. Now the important question was, did he have any?
He stopped and her field of vision was filled with denim taunt against flexed muscle. She closed her eyes and fought against a deep shaking growing in her arms.
His fingers corralled loose hair from her face and she twitched with such violence that her calf muscles screamed in the midst of knotted charlie horses. Tears streamed down her face and she refused to scream again.
That familiar deep growl accompanied his return caress across the wet tracks on her face. The pain of cramped muscles faded to the back of her mind as he pulled her chin up to gaze at his face. There was no pity there for her distress. Empathy was not be had. Lust was oddly absent as well. Her blood turned to ice at the dark detached gaze. There would be no mercy either. This mute beast had staked his claim on her.
Once he saw the terror widen and glaze her eyes, he left.
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.
The gray gave her up, the respite of unconsciousness refueling her sanity for another attempt at coherent life.
Was he waiting for her now, preferring her screams instead as his soundtrack? What did he want with her? No. That was a dangerous questions to contemplate. Better to focus on... other things. Better to not let her mind wander down those twisted dark paths of what-ifs.
Her ears strained again as her brain scrambled for viable answers. Scrambled… rats.
Did she really hear them or was it just another nightmare to add to the mountain? Rats would have surely found her by now. Bound and helpless, she was the perfect victim for not only the massive mute beast but any other carnivourous creature that could get to her, past him.
The rats scrambled again. The sound echoed in her ears, a welcome diversion from her thoughts.
Listening intently she tracked the sound to the floor right next to her bed.
But, that was solid. She knew from the massive mute beasts' footsteps. Every single time she tracked the terrifying echo of his steps, there was no echo there.
No crawlspace for a rat to scurry.
Or a human to crawl.
No. Her brain was becoming creative with this game. That nasty sliver of hope was poisoning her tenuous grip on reality. There was not a person down there.
She listened harder but all sounds cessed and those horrifying familiar footsteps resounded once again, coming towards her.
Panic slithered inside her chest. What would he do now? Use her like a perverted teddy bear again or was there a new level of horror coming through that door?
He was at the threshold now, swinging open the creaking wood. As her eyes went blind from the sudden light, her ears went deaf from what must surely be hell opening below her.
The heat of sulfurous fires singed her face as the bed vibrated from a thunderous explosion. Floorboards turned into shrapnel aimed at the beast in the doorway as something blasted its way out from under the house.
She struggled to regain some sort of mental grip on her suddenly shifting circumstances. Silence dueled with screaming static in her ears as grey and white spots danced across her eyes and pummeled her head.
Hell belched again.
A roar from the beast, no longer mute.
The echo of strange boots, and then she was airborne as her sight returned. Returned to terrorize her with glimpses of that freshly baked bread and roasted men's heads as she was carried through the kitchen and out the door of the now burning house in another man's arms.
The End. For now.
A Note from the author:
Yay for Murderer saving the day! Pixie is no longer in Dante's clutches but on her way to Miss Sweet's safe house.
Do you remember back when you first met Murderer? He was a bit scary back then. Miss Sweet had requested he cover the bar for her.
Keys jangling, Murderer opened up Sweet's Bar for business. Not his usual gig, that's for sure. He preferred dark, dank and dangerous.
Well, turns out, Murderer was in the middle of a stake out at Dante's place and Miss Sweet's favor made him have to leave Pixie with that beast an extra night!
Still in his work clothes, he hadn't given himself enough time to change into a set of shirts. Actually, Dante hadn't given him enough time. Murderer had planned on finishing him off late last night. Unfortunately, that cannibalistic piece of work had forced him to extend his timeline and cut it close with Sweet's favor... That bastard had been discarding half eaten corpses into the dirt like throwing scraps to a dog. But the timing had not been right, and he was forced to wait.
Trust me, Miss Sweet feels mighty bad about that circumstance. Perhaps it is the reason Pixie is her favorite.
Pixie was still firmly in the butterfly stage. Very new to the family, she was brought in by Murderer.
Hope you enjoyed my little terrorist attempt! ~ Miranda