35. Eden
THIRTY-FIVE
EDEN
The last time we played this game, I cut my feet to shit, and Teddy spent no less than two hours diligently and gently plucking splinters from my flesh before washing and bandaging me up. They still ache even in my shoes as I sprint down a darkened corridor, windows along one side allowing scant, icy moonlight to seep in, and mirrors on the other, reflecting that silvery light. Laughter bubbles up in my chest, a giddiness there I feel in my soul.
I was never allowed to be a child. The backs of my hands would be bruised and bloodied if I ever dared to run through the house, or even outside. Running wasn’t considered ladylike. Playing make-believe created cracks where the Devil could sneak in and tempt you to sin. Having an imagination was equivalent to being a literal witch, and we all know what happens to witches.
By the time I escaped that hell, I was on the cusp of adulthood and forced to care for my ailing father. I never knew what it meant to be creative, to allow your mind to wander, to feel intrinsic freedom as wind whipped through your hair and your lungs ached for breath.
What Teddy and I have is twisted and sick for sure, but he ignites the child in me and allows her a safe place to play for the first time in my life, and I don’t think that’s bad, or evil. It’s so cathartic, this macabre game of tag we’ve invented for ourselves, and the prospect of him catching me again makes me giddy with dark excitement.
I hope he always finds me and catches me.
I’ve seen the dead and dying, spent the majority of my life around things of the past, so now I want to be greedy and taste what it means to live, and live the way I want to.
I take a sharp left down a pitch black hallway, slowing my pace and keeping my footfalls light. Hushing my rapid breathing is far more difficult, because I am not athletic in the slightest, and the only reason I have an A in gym is because Miss Peterson has taken pity on me through the years.
Hands outstretched before me, I creep forward, blind in this darkness but unafraid. Nothing can hurt me here, nothing but Teddy, and the pain he inflicts is tempered with pleasure.
Something makes a soft noise behind me, a footfall or the rustle of fabric, I cannot tell, but it makes me freeze in place. Sucking in a breath, I hold it as my heart pounds and my head grows dizzy, the image of Teddy slicing that fucker’s neck replaying on a loop in my mind. It was morbid, and fascinating, and I can tell there’s a disconnect in my brain, some sort of short that allows me to witness a voracious murderer at work and not bat an eye.
I’ve always known I was fucked up deep down, and Teddy holds a mirror to that with a smile.
My hands brush against the edge of what I assume to be a table, and I pause, listening intently again for anything as pure excitement courses through my thudding veins. Swallowing thickly, I run my hands along the table and search for a way out of this darkness, but his voice floats to me in the night air, both taunting and menacing.
“You’ve cornered yourself, little ghost,” he calls from somewhere in the long hallway, and I slap my hands over my mouth to curb the screech and subsequent laughter that spills from my lips. My giggle is met with his threatening chuckle. “You think this game is meant to be fun , baby?”
His voice grows closer, and my shaking hands find a door. Giddy, I push the handle down, surprised to find it unlocked. When it opens, more moonlight splinters the darkness, and I make a run for it down another hall, this one dusty and strewn with cobwebs, white, gauzy sheets covering the paintings and decor residing here. There’s a chill here that cannot be explained by anything rational, and I know in my bones I’ve discovered his deceased wife’s wing of the mansion. Her presence here is thick on my tongue, her anger and fury in death so potent it frightens me far more than the man chasing me.
The door slams behind me, and I glance over my shoulder, screaming with glee as the tall form of Teddy looms in the darkness, the glint of another deadly knife clutched in his hand. I grin, although he doesn’t return it. Taunting him and those voices he talks about is far too entertaining to me to be truly afraid, but there’s always some level of fear that curls in my gut when I poke at the killer in him.
Turning forward again, I push my legs harder, full out sprinting toward the door at the other end of the long room?—
And trip over a stack of books piled near a covered piece of furniture. I crash to the cold, dusty marble floors, my hands and knees taking the brunt of the fall as I hiss in pain, but he’s on me in the time it takes for my brain to comprehend what is happening. Both of us pant, but I laugh and twist and struggle to break free of his grasp, his body wrapped around mine from behind, one hand fisting my hair.
“I win,” he taunts breathlessly in my ear, and I can feel the long, hard heat of him against my ass. I buck against him, but he only cinches down tighter. “Have to make this quick, baby.”
I smirk, although he cannot see it, and claw my way forward across the floor, his strength so superior to mine that it’s pathetic. My muscles strain and cramp, but I refuse to give in. Gritting my teeth as I send an elbow flying toward his face, I growl, “No.”
He chuckles, one hand slipping the button of my jeans through the hole before he sinks his fingers into the waistband and yanks them down ruthlessly. I can’t help my laughter again, because my struggles make him want to hurt me, ignite that predatory instinct within him, and I want him to take me like a savage, to claim me in ways no one else will ever be able to.
The zip of his pants is loud, and I feel the head of his cock slipping up and down through my wetness as he groans in hot desire. I jump away from him, my laughter bouncing off the walls, and he wrenches me back to him so hard that my palms squeak and skid across the cold floors.
“You think this is funny, Eden?” he hisses. “I just fucking slit someone’s throat and I’m about to fuck you bloody, and you’re laughing ?”
“Because,” I pant, grinning to the darkness. “I’m…gonna get…away,” I say, still struggling, however ailing my stamina is.
His answering chuckle is dark and filled with the madness that must live in his skull every day. It sends a chill of foreboding down my spine, and my laughter dies in my throat, turning to a garbled moan as he buries his cock in me in one brutal thrust.
It still hurts, though not as bad as our first time. He wants it to hurt, and I want the bite of pain, even if I don’t understand why.
“You’ll never escape me, and you know it,” he seethes through clenched teeth, and my wetness seeps out around his cock, coating my skin as I release a deep breath, shivering beneath him and becoming pliant in his hold. It feels so good, being filled and stretched by him, the tip of his cock nestled against the very end of my insides, a sensitive wall that he knows how to hit just right.
Face plastered to the icy floor, I grin.
“I let you catch me,” I say, pressing my ass backwards, his hips cemented to me. I want to take him deeper, and deeper, and deeper still, want to be so tightly joined that we have no hope of ever coming apart. Because in moments like the few we’ve created over the last couple of days, I feel complete for the first time in my life.
He buries his face in my neck and inhales deeply, his dick throbbing inside me in time with his heavy heartbeats. I don’t want him to move, not yet. I just want him to be buried inside me like this forever, the two of us one for eternity. I know his darkness now, and I want to revel in it, poke at it and examine it until I know just how deeply it extends. In the same way, I want him to know me —every facet, every deplorable secret.
“Oh you did, huh?” he breathes, teeth nipping at my throat. I moan, shivering anew against him, my knees aching from this position. I don’t understand it, how and why my mind morphs into this realm when I’m with him, but I know he likes it, and I don’t have to think; I just have to feel, and he makes me feel more than I ever thought I’d be capable.
“Yes,” I whimper as he begins to slowly pull out. Panicking, I press back into him, but he plants a hand between my shoulder blades and pins me down, preventing the motion. My cunt ripples and begs for friction, my orgasm already on the cusp, more sticky wetness spilling between my thighs as my arousal mounts. He’s teasing me, and I’m getting pissed.
“Please,” I whine, trying to back against him again.
“What a needy little whore,” he laughs, but the sound is slathered in darkness, and I know Teddy is gone, replaced by the voices who wish pain and suffering upon me. “At least you have good manners.”
I whimper again, clawing at the slippery floor, rolling my hips, but he’s pinned me tightly to him, and I only barely manage to make his cock move inside me. It’s not enough, and I begin to fill with dread, crying out.
“Please, Teddy,” I beg.
“You’re lucky we have so little time,” he growls. Hope ignites in my chest, and my entire body buzzes with sick excitement. Fuck me, ruin me, please, please, please , I chant in my mind. “Next time, you’re going to sit on my cock until I think you’ve earned it, understood?”
I nod without thought and cry another Please to the void. He pulls out until just the head is seated in my entrance, shallowly thrusting through my slickness. I moan and try to meet the pumping of his hips, but he’s careful not to allow himself to sink deep where I need him most. He laughs, smoothing the cool blade of his knife over my ass cheek, but even the threat of blood and pain won’t stop me from begging.
My body goes rigid when the handle of the knife skims over my asshole, pressing against it, both a promise and a threat as the breath stalls in my lungs and my eyes fly open. “If you wanna come, baby, we’re doing it my way. Yes or no?”
“Yes,” I plead without thinking. “Please just fuck me. Please .”
He spits onto my ass, pressing the wide handle of his knife deeper into my forbidden hole until I cry out and it pops past that tight band of resistance, pain flaring through me briefly before he thrusts his cock all the way back in. I’m so full that it’s bliss, and I wither beneath him, crying out and begging for more.
“You’re gonna take my cock in your ass next, and this little knife will seem so small,” he swears, twisting the handle in time with the thrusting of his cock, everything rubbing against that precise spot deep inside me. I don’t even have time to worry about the blade slicing his hand apart, and I can’t seem to care right now. My legs begin to tremble, and my eyes roll back.
“That’s it,” he seethes. “Good girl, good girl. Come on your master’s cock.”
“Oh my…oh my god,” I cry out, the squelching sounds of my wet pussy and the slap of his skin against mine echoing in this desolate mansion. I’d been sent here to get fucked by a monster.
I’m just happy it ended up being my monster.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant in time with his brutal thrusts, my orgasm climbing to the highest peak as I hold on for dear life, coasting on the top of that blissful high until he forces me over the edge, claiming me ruthlessly as I fall. My cunt grips him in rhythmic bursts, milking him, pulling him impossibly deeper into me until it ebbs and I’m left a shaking mess. He thrusts hard three more times, ripping the knife and himself from my body. The tool clangs to the floor, and his hot, sticky cum coats my ass, his thumb swirling the mess around my abused hole before he pushes his seed into me.
“Someday soon this greedy cunt of yours will take all my cum, little ghost,” he swears breathlessly against me, still pumping his thumb in and out, pushing more and more of the white liquid into my ass as I whimper softly in the darkness. “And you’ll thank me after, won’t you?”
A grin paints my lips in a flash, and I nod as best I can, cheek squeaking against the polished floor.
“Thank you, master ,” I tease, pressing my ass into him so his thumb sinks further in.
“Fuck me, Eden. You’ll be the death of me,” he breathes, lips at my ear. My smile broadens.
“As long as you take me with you,” I say to the darkness.
And I hope he knows just how serious I am.