Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
The Perfect Victim
Static
“Ican taste your fear on my tongue…” I lick my lips. My tongue grazes the side of his sweaty neck. “And the scent of your piss. Fuck, you’re really scared, aren’t ya?” I throw my head back with a cackle, relishing in the merriment.
“P-p-please,” he begs helplessly, cowering away as my large frame rounds the dolly I have him strapped to.
Strobe lights flash around us, clogs of smoke thick in my lungs as I breathe him in. All of him.
Ammonia, sweat, and terror. Fuck, that’s good.
“Please what, darlin’? Please don’t cut you with my pretty axe? Please don’t take your blood as my own? Please…”
His eyes are scrunched shut. A weak block of his reality.
It makes my blood thrum excitedly.
His ribs stick out from his midsection, forming a perfect hollow. I swipe the slick handle of my axe along a deep groove, relishing in the way he squeaks and shudders, trying to suck in even more to get away from the touch.
My eyes flicker back up to his mouth. The way his lips are stretched so thin, they turned white. His jaw was nearly unhinged as it opened wide for my axe.
My gaze drops to the floor, eyeing the small pool of watery vomit. I smirk. Took him longer than I thought.
But let’s not forget the piss staining his legs. The perfect puddle leeching into the paper-thin carpet beneath his feet. Into the wooden slats. The slow trickle as it continues to drip from the steel bottom plate of the dolly.
He’s the perfect victim. Or he would be if…
I step close, uncaring of the piss dripping onto the sleek leather of my boots. They’re waterproof for a reason.
I drag my hand over his bare chest, swiping through the dribbles of vomit and sweat clinging to his smooth flesh. I drag my gloved hand across, ensuring he feels the light scrape of my pointed fingertips as I circle him, round and around.
At first, he tries to follow me, eyes straining in their sockets as I disappear from sight. Head cranked back, turning left and right, seeking every visible inch I give him.
His attention is magnificent.
I’m so happy I stole him away from the rest.
He’s all mine.
Every pass, my hand drops lower. My index finger dips into his belly button, and he hisses, then whimpers. His head shakes back and forth, sending a few droplets flying from the ends of his hair.
My tongue flicks out over a drop that landed on my upper lip.
Mmm. Nothing tastes better than fear-induced sweat.
Sickly sweet and slightly sour.
I’m at his back now, my stomach pressed against the bars, keeping him exactly where I want him. Trembling, whimpering with snotty sobs, seeking me out even as he doesn’t want to…
Yeah. With him, it’s all already so different. I don’t want to make him my victim.
I want him to want to be.
So, for the first time in the few years I’ve worked at Mayhem, scarin’ the shit out of people—sometimes literally—I’m going off script. To do something really fun.
All for me.
“Tell me your name.” I bend over to whisper into his ear, scoring my teeth over the edge of his earlobe. He shrieks and jerks to the side, banging his other ear against the metal bar. The groan that escapes from deep in his gut reverberates off the walls and into me.
“Tell me,” I hiss. He gasps, the sound wet and filled with tears.
“M-mad—”
“M-m-m,” I mock him with a snicker as I round his right side.
“Ma-Madison,” he finally chokes out, eyes comically wide as I step into view again. And I know exactly what he’s seeing, too. The face that fills most nightmares.
Coulrophobia in the horror industry makes for a great line of work. ‘Cause as much as people are terrified of clowns, they fuckin’ love being scared by ‘em, too.
Especially one that looks like me.
Madison’s eyes lift up, locking on the thick, spiked horseshoe ring hanging from the center of my nose.
Then, they shift to the spikes in both sides of my bottom lip.
I smile wide, flashing him my fake, sharpened teeth, spreading my mouth as wide open as I can.
A small flick of my tongue. I even widen my eyes too, lunging forward for effectiveness.
He screams and slams his eyes closed. His whole body wracks with tremors. I ease forward, towering above his small frame as I run my fingers over his shoulder and down his bicep. His skin is smooth. Slick. I dig my index finger in, just to watch his flesh bloom with a stripe of crimson.
The lights flashing distort the terrified boy in front of me, but there’s no turning it off. And it actually might work in my favor…
My groin furls with warmth as I work my hands over him, scraping lightly as I make my way down, following the center line leading toward his boxers. His body is supple. Not well defined with a layer of softness above the muscle.
Perfect for splitting open…
I step through a plume of smoke lingering a few feet off the floor. It dances around, curling and morphing into different designs that add a layer of density. I dip down to pick up my axe, gripping the end of it with loose fingers.
Swinging it back and forth, I let the blade scrape against the floor. The shredded carpet below exposes the wooden underlayment beneath, giving a nice, sharp hiss with every swipe. Poor little Madison is stuck between keeping his eyes scrunched tight and eyeing the motion of my axe warily.
Like the prospect of blindness is just as scary as the blatant reality.
I let my eyes drag over his body, nearly fully exposed to me. His chest is heaving, even though he hasn’t moved a muscle—because he can’t. His lips are parted, glistening with saliva. His eyes are wide—glassy. Eyelashes clumped together in thick spikes.
His hair is still wet from the water. Probably from sweat, too. I breathe in deeply, my eyes flashing at the whiff of ammonia. Yeah…
I swing my axe over my shoulder, letting it sit alongside my neck as I lean in. Close. Closer until I can feel Madison’s heat on my lips. He’s trembling, head veering as far right as he can get it.
The tendons beneath the thin layer of skin bulge, strained against the pressure. I let the spiked end of my lip ring drag over the flesh in the barest graze. My tongue darts across my painted lips. I’m foaming at the maw to get a taste of him.
Of that sweet, delectable fear oozing from his pores.
All for me. Because of me.
And I’d be a fool to deny myself such a sweet, little treat.
When my teeth scrape the tendon, Madison whimpers, head shaking rapidly, sending drops of salty wetness splattering across the side of my face. I swipe a few up with my tongue. My eyes roll back as my dick fully hardens, sending my blood ablaze.
Fuck, he’s got me wrapped around his little finger.
Such a strange little thing, he is.
Not blurting the one word that would get him out of this…
It’s almost like he’s beggin’ for it.
When the butt end of the handle bumps against his chest, he squirms away, tugging against the binds keeping him pinned. I pull back just enough to let my breath fan across his face.
I know he can smell the tobacco on my breath. Maybe even the trace hints of the mint I crushed between my teeth right after.
His air is just as hot. Just as yummy.
I let the axe drag down my chest until the curved blade digs into my trapezius with a sharp bite. My eyes nearly roll back at the willful pain. My cock bucks, derailing my train of thought.
I wanna scare my little treat.
But I wanna taste him, too.
My gaze drags down his stomach, bypassing the sharpness of his ribs, down to his tiny belly button, until I reach the elastic band of his boxers. The dark blue material clings to his legs, still wet from the water I doused him with. And the piss he couldn’t keep inside.
I kinda wanna see if I can get him to do it again, but I don’t think his bladder is full enough.
Maybe I could get a little trinkle…
But the soft firmness pushing against the flowing material around his thighs thwarts that idea in an instant. My head cocks to the side. Then lowers so I can get even closer.
My eyes narrow, then widen in surprise.
Oh, how fuckin’ sweet…
“Well… well… well…” I tsk, flicking my tongue along my teeth, pressing hard against the sharpened points until the natural instinct to pull away kicks in—and then, I push even more.
“What’s this, darlin’?” I use my free hand to palm his semi-erection. Madison jerks at the touch, squealing like a little pig. He bucks against the dolly, nearly tipping it over. My lips purse as my brows hike mid-forehead.
Mmm, he’s got some strength in there after all.
Although, he’s still here… he hasn’t given up, so maybe that says a lot more.
My earpiece crackles as someone presses a button. I hear a few panted breaths followed by echoing static, and then Ravage’s voice. “Two safe-worded. Just got them out.” His breath makes the winded crackling worse as he blows in my ear, then it’s cut off, leaving my ear canal ringing in the silence.
That means there are only two others still hanging on, along with my little treat, of course.
I nearly groan, almost succumbing to the urge to pout. I wanted to take my time with him. To explore every inch of him while he’s at my mercy, but if history has told me anything, it’s that I’m on the biggest ticking clock.
And each second that drags is another I’m wasting when I could already be tasting my treat.
With a clicking noise, I firm my grip and slam the toe of my boot against the metal plate Madison’s feet are planted on. The dolly lurches forward. Madison careens, a scream ripping from his throat as the dolly teeters, sending his dick sliding through my gloved hand.
I watch through a half-lidded gaze, distorted by the blinding light flashing, as Madison tenses from head to toe. Every muscle, every limb—hell, probably even his organs—solidify like they’re bathed in cement.
It only makes me hotter.
He shakes his head no. A continuous motion that must make him dizzy.
So foolish.
A small whimper I nearly miss croaks from deep within him. I press closer, sending the butt end of my axe bumping against his torso. His shoulders wrack with a sob, tears streaming, snot gurgling.
I sigh. “Your dick is hard, darlin’,” I speak the truth into the static-charged air.
My little treat doesn’t budge. His head never stops shaking.
Those sobs never cease for a moment, only change direction into something softer, more resigned the longer I stroke him through the thin, damp material. The only barrier between us.
The last piece to shred.
“Fear makes some people hard. All that adrenaline pumping into your system… the spikes from the all-consuming panic…” I drag my tongue across his cheek, growling at the rough scrape of invisible stubble.
“It’s all about the chemistry, darlin’. Nothin’ to be ashamed of.”
I trace my spiked index finger just beneath the ribbed band hanging low around his hips. My eyes never stray from Madison’s wrinkled lids as I press my hips forward, dragging my hard cock across his stomach. Shit, he’s so tiny…
He sucks his in, pulling away from the contact. I cackle in amusement, not deterred in the slightest. I only press harder, ensuring he feels every inch of what he’s done to me.
“Your fear turns me on, too.”
His lips part, opening and closing like a fish out of water. “Is this p-part of it?” he stammers. My eyes light up at the sound of his voice, hoarse and cracked from endless screaming. “I re-read about sex-sexual c-contac-ct.”
Ahh, the waiver.
I beam. “Nah, darlin’. Nothin’ like that’s ever happened. Until now. You’re just too tasty to resist.” Madison’s eyes dart all over my face, pinging from my hair to my forehead, my mouth, down my neck to where my axe is still hanging.
A nightmare he wants.
C’mon, darlin’…
“Oh, Jesus,” he whimpers, then the sound cuts off to nothing, but his lips still move like he’s talking to himself.
“Give me what I want, Madison…”
He pants heavily—loudly. Screams ricochet somewhere in the motel. A distant vibration. My temples throb from the fuckin’ strobe lights. I hate that it distorts my vision of my little treat so much, but maybe with the illusion, it’ll be easier to make him give in.
Time’s runnin’ out.
“Give it to me.” I let the tip of my finger graze his cockhead to prompt a response. His eyes fly open wide, nearly bulging from his skull. His throat bobs. His muscles strain, veins bulging beneath the skin in a pattern I’d love to trace with my tongue.
I flash my teeth. “Just nod your head.”
A breath. His. Mine.
…He nods.