A New Promise Ch. 2
Zack threw open the cabin door, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden floor. He trudged past where Rachel sat on his bed and stumbled straight into the bathroom. The stench of alcohol wafted through the room after him.
Rachel glanced up from her book just in time to see the bathroom door slam behind him. She then noticed the trail of blood he’d left in his wake. It was obvious he’d been drinking, but she wondered where all the blood came from; either he’d just messily killed someone or he was wounded.
Abandoning her book on the nightstand beside her, she strode over to the door. She could hear cursing and loud rustling from the other side. She knocked lightly.
“Go away,” she heard his muffled voice echo through the door in annoyance.
She ignored his demand and grasped the bloodied knob to open the door. As the door cracked open, she peeked inside. He was too preoccupied to notice her right away. He was clad in only his underwear, sitting on the lid of the toilet with his bandages half-removed from his body. Blood was virtually pouring from a hole on his upper leg, and he was in the process of trying to unwrap the bandages from the wound. His knife laid in the vanity sink, still smeared with fresh blood. She noticed a woman purse along with his boots and clothes laying in a bloody pile on the floor. It was difficult to tell how much of it was his. He sharply inhaled through gritted teeth as the blood made the wrapping stick while he peeled it off.
“Can I help?"
He looked up upon hearing her voice and anger flashing in his eyes. “Get out!” He leaned forward to shove her backward and slam the door in her face.
She heard the lock click this time. She stared for a moment, silently processing what she’d seen. It looked like a bullet hole, she’d determined. The idea of him being hurt troubled her, but she knew better than to worry about him. Isaac’s strength and resilience was nearly inhuman. He’d been through much worse.
Rachel contemplated knocking again but decided against it. She would find some other way to be useful to him. If she was useful, he would kill her like they had agreed. She still cherished their promise, as it was sacred to her and the source of their bond.
She wiped the blood from touching the doorknob on her white dress and went to the cabinet for a rag and bucket to fill with soap and water. She got down on her hands and knees and scrubbed the blood out of the floor. She hadn’t bothered to preserve her dress, which was now soiled with crimson. Her eyes wondered back to the bathroom door Zack had yet to emerge from. She heard water running, so she assumed he’d be in there awhile.
Putting away the cleaning supplies, she went to her drawer to retrieve fresh clothes. As soon as she had pulled her dress off over her head, she heard the click of the bathroom door unlocking and Zack came out.
He moved towards the bed wearing only his boxers, running a hand through his messy wet hair. He sharply exhaled and looked exhausted. He couldn’t completely keep the limp out of his unsteady gate. He'd obviously just taken a shower. His body was wrapped in fresh bandages but the ones around his hurt leg were already stained, with a makeshift tourniquet tied above the wound. She doubted he even took the time to get the bullet out. It probably could use a few stitches, if only he’d let her and stop being stubborn. He hadn’t bothered to completely stop the bleeding and she suspected he was still somewhat feeling the effects of alcohol.
“Glad to see you made yourself useful and cleaned u-,” He stopped short, as he finally looked up at her and realized she was almost completely naked. Her developed breasts were exposed and the only thing still keeping a fraction of her modesty were her frilly cotton panties. She didn’t own any bras, seeing as she hadn’t needed them when they first started living together, however she was obviously a woman now. Her ivory figure was curvier, her tiny waist flowing into fuller hips. The pale of her skin contrasted with the rose of her nipples. He had noticed them through her clothes a few times, but he actively paid her development virtually no mind before now. However, it was impossible to ignore now that they were bare right in front of him.
He felt blood rush to his face as well as somewhere lower. He was thankful for the cover the bandages provided or she would be able to see how red his face was. “Fucking cover up,” he muttered angrily, averting his eyes. He was surprised and perplexed at the pleasurable heat flooding to his groin. Sexual arousal was unusual for him; he typically found much more pleasure in killing. The thought of sex was usually disgusting and incredibly annoying to him. Even while the woman from the bar was making out with him, sucking on his neck, unzipping his jeans… He’d never felt aroused even once. Now that he had a very noticeable and uncomfortable erection throbbing against his boxers, he was unsure of how to handle it. He mentally cursed himself, deciding to blame it on the alcohol and still being a bit tipsy.
He tried to hide how flustered he was, but Rachel silently took note of it. She politely pulled a pajama nightdress over her head as quickly as she was able. She didn't feel embarrassed at all, but it was obviously bothering Zack. Aside from his boxers, he hadn’t put his clothes back on before leaving the bathroom, seeing as they were covered in blood. She hadn’t missed the large bulge straining against his underwear, which he instantly attempted to hide by grumpily laying down for bed and pulling the blankets over himself and tucking his freshly cleaned knife under the pillow.
Something about his reaction excited her. Nudity seemed to make him angry. She wondered if it would make him angry enough to kill her. She hadn’t given up on the idea, despite his putting off their agreement.
Rachel collected her bloodied clothes as well as his from the bathroom and put them in the sink. She filled it with cold water to soak them in hopes of washing the stains out of them later. As for the purse, she rummaged through it and counted how much cash was in it and deposited the fifty-six dollars it contained into their money jar. She then returned to her book, picking it up off the night table and crawling into bed beside him.
“Ay,” he protested, “I’m going to bed, go read your stupid girly novel on the couch.” His back was to her and didn’t bother to turn around to properly address her.
She didn’t move. Instead, she found herself staring at the handsome outline and contours of his face wrapped in bandages. She couldn’t help but wonder what was beneath them. She recalled the scene she’d witnessed in the bathroom moments ago and realized she’d never seen so much of his bare skin exposed before. While he was removing his bandages, she'd noticed that there were patches of smooth, unblemished skin mixed in with the areas of severe burns. Not only that, but most of the skin on his lower abdomen and below were virtually burn-free. She'd only gotten a glimpse of his flesh once before when she was sewing him up in the priest's basement and she hadn't unwrapped low enough to see where the burns ended. She'd always just assumed that his burns covered his whole body since it was always completely wrapped up. Strange that after all this time, she was just finding that out now... There was so much she'd yet to find out about him.
She liked watching him sleep sometimes, when his face was relaxed and he was devoid of his usual gruffness and harsh scowl. There was a rare peacefulness about him that could make her completely forget he was a ruthless murderer, not that it really bothered her. She was hardly innocent herself.
Truthfully, she wished to know more about her would-be killer. She realized she didn't even know his favorite color or food. She hoped to know him more intimately before dying; see his face and learn more about his past. She wanted to know all about the illegal orphanage he lived at and what it was like in prison. However, she wondered if he would let her get that far. She'd avoided touchy subjects before because he'd get raging mad and break things. He was so unpredictable most days, but she was willing to press her luck.
He grumbled in irritation at her defiance, annoyed that she hadn't left yet. He sat up and turned around to yell at her some more but she spoke before he could, “Can I see your face?”
“W-What?” he balked at her request as if she’d grown an extra head. “No, are you nuts?”
She gently reached for his face but he recoiled, “Don’t.” She paused, brief disappointment flickering across her features. “Why would you want to see anyway? Trust me, you’d only be disappointed,” He concluded in attempt to lure her away from the idea.
He sighed when she wasn’t deterred and only stared at him with her usual innocent dullness. She looked at him expectantly as if waiting for him to change his mind. He chewed his cheek a minute before caving, “Alright, fine. Knock yourself out,” he muttered wryly. He wondered if the alcohol was making him soft...
Her face brightened, perhaps even reaching the blue depths of her eyes. The fleeting happiness in her face should have awakened the killer within him, but for some reason it didn’t. He dismissed it as just being too tired. Besides, killing one person was enough for one night.
He averted his eyes and let her pull the wrapping away. She anxiously made quick work of it, like a child opening a Christmas present.
The bandages fell away and he avoided eye contact, feeling uncharacteristically insecure. He was afraid of the look of disgust he irrationally imagined was probably on her face. A moment passed in tense silence, which he couldn’t stand.
“Satisfied?” He questioned impatiently, trying to cover it back up. Her chilled hand stopped him and he risked the glance at her. Her face was absent of disgust or judgement, much to his relief. She looked more… intrigued. Morbidly curious, maybe.
She gently touched his textured skin, running her cold fingers down his cheek and traced his strong jawline. He had attractive features, and the disfiguring burns on his face really weren’t as bad as she’d imagined, considering what had happened to him. She could still easily see past the marred skin and make out what he'd looked like before. He was handsome, she concluded, even despite the burns. He didn't need to hide under those bandages.
His hand caught hers and interrupted her train of thought as he pulled it away from his face, “Quit being a creep.” Her intense staring was unnerving. He resumed wrapping his face back up. She stopped him again, this time anger flashed in his wild eyes.
“Please, leave them off,” her meek voice requested.
The anger suddenly fell from his features as quickly as it had appeared. Grumbling, he dropped his hand and abandoned the wrapping. He incredulously wondered why, but resisted the urge to ask. He laid back down, muttering something under his breath.
He turned away from her, putting his back to her again. “I mean it Ray, go to the couch,” he insisted again upon remembering her unwelcome presence invading his bed. They'd made an agreement upon finding the abandoned cabin to take turns sleeping in the bed, since there was only one and it was a bit on the small side. Tonight was his night to have the bed and she had another thing coming if she thought he was gonna give it up or share.
He felt the bed jostle behind him. He assumed she was getting up until a small arm snaked around his waist from behind, shyly inching downward toward his crotch. He felt his body beginning to respond to her inappropriate touch. Startled, he sat up. “What are you doing?!”
She sat up too, leaning towards him and touching his chest, which was only covered by his bandages. “Does it make you angry when I touch you that way?" there was an eagerness in her words, "If I keep doing it, will it make you want to kill me?”
Truthfully, she enjoyed their time together but she was tired of biding her time and being haunted by a guilty conscience for what she'd done to her parents and other innocent people. She still needed to pay for her sins, but he was taking so long and dragging it out. She’d tried provoking him in other ways, but lying to him didn't seem to anger him enough, her happiness and smiles weren’t convincing enough either, not even her tears did the trick. Nothing she tried ever worked, but… She’d never tried this before. It was now or never, she had nothing to lose.
Suddenly her motives were clear to him; She wanted to provoke him into killing her. She was using him to get what she wanted, as he suspected. He’d do it when he felt like it and on his terms, not hers. He relaxed a bit and scoffed. “It’s not time yet, what’s the rush anyway? I’ll kill you when I want to.” He removed her hand from his chest as if he were disgusted by it.
Undeterred by his standoffish behavior, she determined she had to be more persistent and climbed onto his lap, straddling his hips. He visibly stiffened, feeling his manhood stir in response. She put her hands on the wall on either side of his face to support her weight as she leaned in. He didn't know how to deal with the way she was making him feel. Panicked, he leaned backward as if to put more space between them, unintentionally hitting his head against the wall. He groaned and rubbed the back of his head. “The hell do you think your-“
“Do you want to do it now?” her voice was low and probably a little unintentionally seductive. She began forcefully pulling and unraveling the bandages at his waist, but she didn't make it very far before he stopped her and pushed her hands away. Her provocative behavior and close proximity made him uncomfortable. He could feel her breath fan against his lips, feeling insecure without his face covered up. Feeling anything other than anger usually frustrated him, which usually lead to killing someone… She was playing with fire and she knew it.
“No,” he replied stubbornly, but he contradicted himself when he pulled his blade from where he'd stashed it and held it to her throat. “Seriously, back off.” He threatened her, but there was hesitance like he was bluffing. He swallowed hard, but the lump forming in his throat didn’t go away.
His threats didn’t faze her, as usual. If he got angry and killed her, she was okay with that. However, if he chose to accept her advances, she was fine with that outcome as well. “Let me be useful to you then,” she insisted breathily, her sexual innuendos mixed with the subtle friction she was unknowingly creating against his crotch made him harden even more. He groaned, almost as if in pain, but she determined that it was working. She disregarded the weapon on her throat and leaned in further, pressing her lips to his.
As if entranced, he couldn’t find the resolve to avoid her. He kept the knife to her neck but yielded to her movement. His heart was pounding so hard, it made him want to rip it out of his damn chest. The kiss didn’t have any tongue but her lips lingered on his for an extended period of time. Her lips were soft, unlike his slightly chapped ones. She heard him groan needily against her mouth, igniting a desire within her. Slowly she broke the kiss, the lust in her eyes mirroring his own. He admittedly craved more from her but he wouldn’t allow it. His eyes narrowed, looking angry with her and possibly himself, “Get off me, and don’t ever do that again.”
“Does it make you angry?,” she encouraged breathily, her breath lightly trembling. Her cheeks were stained a pretty shade of pink that matched the rose of her lips.
He lowered his blade and abandoned it, since it didn’t have the effect he intended and pushed her away with his hands instead. She fell back against his unbearably stiff erection that poked her bottom. “Ah, Son of a-“ he groaned in sudden pain and she glance at his erection in utter confusion.
His face flushed again, but this time he didn’t have bandages to hide behind. He looked away in frustration and embarrassment at how clueless she looked. However, it was quickly forgotten when she began rubbing herself against him. He could feel her moist folds through her panties. Maybe she wasn't as clueless as he thought.
“S-Stop,” He gasped at the pleasurable friction, his cock aching for release. His face was hot and flushed, his resolve potentially slipping at this point. He'd never felt this way or had this kind of reaction for anyone before. She was different somehow. He realized that the feeling was mutual. Her face, he noticed, was flushed too. Her chest rose and fell with her heavy breathing. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. It felt wrong somehow, although having a conscience wasn’t a common concept for him. He may be a serial killer but he wasn’t into molesting young girls. It was more like she was molesting him, though.
She seemed to have gotten too carried away with desire to listen. She kept rocking her hips against his unbearably stiff bulge, so he harshly grabbed her hips to stop the unwanted pleasure. She stopped and winced at his rough treatment, but desperation flashed in her eyes. “It’s okay if you don’t want to,” She said bluntly. “You can just kill me if you want,” she begged, “I'll only get as far as you let me.”
His dick throbbed in agreement with her. Unless he planned on killing her, she'd only continue to pursue him. He contemplated his options and sighed in defeat. He reluctantly complied, but not feeling confident he was making the right choice. His bruising hold on her hips relaxed.
She anxiously pressed her mouth to his again. Her kiss was chaste and sweet, same as before. But when she went to pull away, he held her there. Her heart nearly leaped from her chest.
He'd leaned forward and grasped the back of her head, fingers intertwining with her pale hair and forced his tongue into her mouth. He was rough and a bit aggressive, but she didn’t mind. His other hand moved from her thigh to grope her butt as she continued to rub against him. She soon tore her mouth away from him to breathe, both gasping for breath.
He shifted to pursue her body some more, but winced at the sharp pain in his leg when he moved it.
She urged him back down. “You’re hurt.”
Now that the numbing effects of the alcohol was wearing off, his bullet wound was beginning to bother him more, not that he’d admit it.
“I’m fine,” he protested, pushing her backward and pinning her down under him. He held both her hands captive with one hand as he kissed down her neck and groped her breasts through her clothes. She let out a tiny moan, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment at the lewd sound that unintentionally escaped her.
He looked up at her, but didn't say anything. He continued to nip and suck her flesh while his free hand explored her, slipping under her gown to feel the smooth plains of her stomach, her tiny waist, and her hips. His fervent yet strangely gentle touch on her bare skin felt like the perfect mix of sin and heaven.
She felt the urge to touch him too, but he wouldn't release her hands. She tugged on them, silently asking him to let them go. His grasp loosened and she freed one hand, shyly touching his bandaged chest. She realized she'd maybe never have an opportunity to explore him like this again.
She let her tiny hand wander down his lean but toned frame, noting the shape and every crevice of his body, or what she could feel of it through the fabric wrapped around it. The sensation of Zack nipping and sucking on her neck and collarbone sent hot waves through her and she held back a moan, a little distracted by the pleasure he was inflicting. Still, she managed to unravel the bandages at his waist some more, finishing her work in loosening them earlier to grant her access to his bare flesh. Her hands roamed more of his exposed body, appreciating the feel of his muscled abdomen. It felt good to touch so much of his bare skin, though she could tell he wasn't used to being touched by the way he slightly recoiled from it. The different texture of his skin didn't bother her at all but she still faltered a moment when she came across the deep, familiar scar stretching from one side of his stomach to the other, just barely above his navel. The memory of his guts nearly spilling out of him flickered through her mind. She briefly ran her fingertips over it and continued further down his damaged body.
The muscles around his hips created an alluring v-shaped trail leading into the waistband of this boxers. When her hand reached it's destination, she grasp his hardened length through the restrictive fabric that restrained it. It twitched in response and she heard him gasp, making her flush even more. Her small hand wasn't quite big enough to wrap fully around him, but she continued to feel him through the fabric.
He groan, trying to ignore the sharp pangs of pleasure she was causing. "Are you sure about this?" he murmured huskily, noting her sudden nervousness. She loved hearing his rough voice laced with desire.
She nodded shyly, letting go of his shaft and pulling the waistband of his underwear downward to remove the last article of clothing on his body. He assisted to remove it the rest of the way. She stared down at his full erect member, presumably having never seen a naked man before. Her lingering gaze was making him uncomfortable.
"Stop staring," he said more out of self-consciousness rather than the annoyed tone that touched his words, "It's your turn then."
Her panties were soaked as he pulled them down her legs and discarded them on the floor. She laid shamelessly exposed to him, wet and ready for him to enter her. He ached in anticipation, but was worried he wouldn't be able to pace himself. If he knew how to properly control his urges, he probably wouldn’t regularly murder people. What if he got too rough or choked her to death or something?
He groaned in annoyance and hesitance. His head lowered, unable to make himself continue. He didn't want to hurt her, which he avoided overthinking too much about. It was probably better if she initiated this part. She understood his reluctance without him needing to elaborate and switched their positions, urging him back down on his forearms and climbed on top of him.
She positioned him between her slick velvet folds. The thought occurred to him, why would she even want to do this with someone like him, a monster, in the first place? He silently second guessed his decision, but he didn’t stop her.
He leaned up to pull the hem of her nightdress over her head, his cock tightening with further arousal upon seeing her luscious breasts again.
He was excruciatingly hard, aching to plunge into her. His mouth found her erect nipple, circling his tongue around it while his other hand caressed the other before moving down her body to find her folds. He pressed his finger between them and rubbed her clit.
She panted, clinging to him in desperation. She wondered if Zack had done this before. If it was his first time, she couldn't tell. After a moment of light teasing, his hand stopped massaging her to roam over her body some more. Their lips intertwined again as she put slight pressure against his length at her entrance, letting his tip sink ever so slightly into her narrow channel. He broke the kiss to sharply inhale at the resistance, which was pleasurable and a little painful.
Rachel’s face contorted as well in what looked like excruciating pain, unshed tears brimming in her clenched eyes. She soon schooled her expression again, realizing he was looking at her.
There was a strange pang in his chest. He was about to tell her to stop but was cut short when she decided to impale herself even more, his shaft sinking deeper into her blissfully tight passage. He gasped, this time only in pleasure. He exhaled heavily, clenching his eyes and letting his head fall back for a minute. She felt so good, he wanted to explode right then. He cursed to himself, letting an unintentional moan slip. The flesh of his cock throbbed against her walls. This was torture and he was finding it hard to show restraint. The part of him that craved violence wanted to just throw her underneath him and pound into her, rip her to shreds. Still, he managed to keep those urges in check. Barely.
He allowed her to sit the rest of the way down on him agonizingly slow, her brows drawn together as she shifted her hips in attempt to adjust to his size. He felt the ending of her passage shifting against the head of his cock. He could stand much more of the torturous teasing.
He soon flipped her to the side and switched their positions without removing his cock from her. She was still tense, trying to ignore her own pain but he figured it was better to get it over with than to prolong it. Her passage gripped him as he pulled out most of the way, and thrust back in as far as her body would allow. He forced himself to go slow until she began to relax and he could tell it was becoming more pleasurable for her. She began lifting her hips to meet his, her back arching in encouragement.
He picked up the pace a bit, but not letting himself get carried away. His cock racked her tiny body with every thrust. She gasped, fisting his hair and desperately grasping his shoulder as he continued pumping into her. Their bodies were hot with lust and passion. She clung to him frantically and he deeply enjoyed the gasps and moans escaping her, determined to keep evoking more. He shifted and continued thrusting at a different angle. Her toes curled and her legs clutched around his waist.
As the need for release increased, he was beginning to lose restraint. He went harder and faster, feeling the pleasure building with every thrust. He was trying to hold out, make it last as long as possible. He was breathing in sharp gasps. She watched Zack's brow furrow and his face contort in pleasure, even seeming slightly vulnerable, completely focused on his movement. She thought she must be the only person to have ever seen him like this. His bangs were matted his sweat to his forehead.
Just a little more. She was so close to-
He abruptly pulled out of her, interrupting her thoughts. She instantly missed the feel of him inside. He forcefully turned her over, lifting her hips up and forcing her onto all fours. She wondered what he was doing until her head was roughly shoved back down into the pillow and held there. She gasped as he forced his length into her again. Her pussy felt so full with a pleasurable pressure as he stretched her to fit over his shaft. The new position felt even better than before when he picked up his pace again. He was hitting the right spot and something was building inside of her as she gripped him and her cunt tightly stoked his cock while he went in and out.
He kept a rough but steady pace, until he could feel his climax nearing. His thrusts became more desperate and sloppy. Her moaning was getting louder too, he noted. "Fuck," He nearly choked on air, suddenly feeling her pussy clamp even harder around him. He felt her slick juices coat his member and the last of his restraint crumbled. A few final desperate thrusts and she felt his cock convulse inside of her and spill his seed deep within her. His body shuddered and he let out a strangled moan as he released, pouring his cum into her. He didn't move right away, as he came down from the high.
Juices leaked out of her as he pulled out and fell to the side of her. His body went limp with exhaustion, chest heaving up and down with his breathing. His foggy mind still could quite fully process anything. She shifted beside him to join him, her thighs feeling a little sticky.
After a moment, reality or maybe dread started to sink in. He realized that everything just became a whole lot more complicated between them and he felt overwhelmed and conflicted. He was a very rash person; He’d gotten carried away and now he was worried about what he’d gotten himself into and the consequences. He could easily just fix it by killing her… It’s what she wanted anyway. In fact, she was expecting him to do it right now... He'd already agreed.
Zack suddenly had a dark, brooding look on his face. She sat up on her forearms to lean over him, speaking breathlessly “Zack? Is something wrong?”
He growled in frustration, shoving her backward to lay back on the bed as she was, taking her off guard. Her blonde hair fell prettily around her pale naked body, his blade held to her neck, threatening to end her life. Her luscious, perfectly shaped breasts jostled a little, nipples pink and erect. Her body was so tiny and fragile beneath him. He was already halfway hard again despite himself; He hated that she had this effect on him, he wanted it to go away. If he put an end to her, he wouldn't have to feel this way about her anymore.
The thought of slicing her jugular and watching the waterfall of blood rush out and down her neck excited him. She’d make a beautiful corpse, he thought. They were both still sweating and panting a little. Her lips were slightly swollen. Her blue eyes beamed up at him with pleading anticipation, silently encouraging him.
His mind screamed at him to just do it, but his corresponding extremity wouldn’t comply. Something was holding him back. His conflicting emotions were so confusing and frustrating him. He had the blade pressed to her delicate flesh enough to draw blood, yet his hand hesitated. All it would take was a flick of his wrist and she would be no more. He stared down at her beautiful porcelain face, a small stream of blood he'd created with the pressure of his blade running down her neck.
Would it really feel that rewarding to slash her throat? What if it wasn’t? What if, he regretted killing her? He recalled the woman he’d murdered earlier and how sick with dread he felt when he’d imagined it was Rachel.
His body was tense and his hand shook. His head bowed in anguish, a scowl appearing on his face. She shifted under him and he applied more pressure, "don't fucking move," his threatening words and feeling his hot breath on her neck sent shivers down her spine.
He wanted more than anything to want to kill her... But he knew he couldn’t bring himself to do it. For the first time in his life, he didn’t want to do it. Somewhere along the line, his promise that he fully intended to keep had turned into a lie; he'd lied to her, but also to himself.
"Is death really what you want?" He asked huskily, his body trembling. Rachel was taken aback by his hesitance and didn't know what to say. She was at a loss for words.
"I said, is it really what you want?!" he persisted with more force, "You want me to kill you right now?!"
She was too distracted by his intense show of emotion to respond. She noticed his voice crack and the bitterness lacing his words, as if he were on the verge of tears. She was used to his outbursts and anger, but... he'd never looked so weak at the same time before.
He breathed in frustration, not really expecting a response anymore. "Has nothing changed for you?" He pleaded, softer. She could tell he wanted something from her, but she wasn't sure what it was. He was confusing her.
He huffed again, sounding a little more calm. He was trying desperately to make sense out of his thoughts. It was time to tell her the truth. “Truth is… I think I lied to you, Ray. I don’t want you to die,” he admitted dejectedly. “When I made the promise to kill you, I meant it. But I don’t think that’s what I want anymore.” His killing hand fell away from her at his confession.
Finally, she understood. A strange look flashed over her features as she finally found the motivation to speak. “You’re breaking your promise to me?” there was bitterness and disappointment coating her words as she sat up, forcing him to do the same. If he wouldn’t kill her, then where did it leave them? The very foundation of their bond was broken. She'd saved the honors for him and he didn't even want it. She was nothing to him; She wasn’t even worth killing.
“I’m sorry, Ray. I can’t do it,” he hung his head in defeat. He knew he was letting her down. He couldn't give her what she wanted anymore. All this time, she'd waited for him... for nothing.
Unshed tears began forming in her blue eyes. She was shaking and her hands balled into fists. She was very quiet for a moment with her head bowed. He could do it; He was just choosing not to, she thought bitterly. She could feel the moisture building in her eyes. If not to kill her, then reason did he have to keep her around now? They didn't need each other anymore.
“Ray?” he questioned when he noticed the tear roll down her cheek.
She let out a strangled cry and hit him, swinging her tiny fists into his chest over and over. He was stunned, never having witnessed such raw, sincere emotion from her. He caught her hands and held them captive to stop her assault. His words escaped him.
“You’re a liar! You swore to me! You promised!” It was like all of her suppressed emotions were being released at once... anger, sadness, frustration, hopelessness. He pulled her to him and held her tightly, despite her struggling. She soon fell limp in his arms, sobbing freely. Her still-bare skin was soft and felt good against him.
Zack felt an unfamiliar tightness in his chest as he felt her tiny body tremble against him as she cried. He was overwhelmed with strange feelings and foreign emotions that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel until now. His heart hurt and once again, he had to resist the urge to rip the nuisance of an organ from his chest. Any time he felt any unfamiliar emotion, it made him uncomfortable and he’d vehemently pushed them away. He didn’t understand normal emotions. But he knew he felt something special for her, unlike anything he'd ever felt before; Something like fondness. Somehow, at some point, he'd grown attached to the brat.
He mentally berated himself. Admitting those feelings even to himself made him nauseous. He could just deny it and keep pretending that she meant nothing to him, but... that'd make him a liar again.
He felt so warm and Rachel found herself enjoying his strong embrace. The comfort he was providing was making it difficult for her to stay angry at him. She buried her face into his shoulder, inhaling his personal musk. She felt his arms tighten around her.
Zack dipped his head and caught the sweet smell of her hair, feeling the softness of her porcelain skin under his fingertips. There was nothing more absolute than death and he knew he would miss her if she left him forever. For the first time, he embraced his feelings of attachment, protectiveness, fear, regret… He'd never be the same without her.
"Is death still what you want?" He sounded exhausted and reserved this time, as if afraid of her answer. "You want to leave forever?" What he really meant to ask was, 'you want to leave me forever?'.
'...to leave?' She finally allowed herself to consider his words. She'd only ever wished to stay with him. She'd never given it a second thought in the past. Waiting and wishing for death was all she knew for so long, she'd always been so sure before. As long as she was under the impression it was what he wanted, it had remained what she'd wanted as well.
Now that she knew he didn't want to, was it still what she really wanted? After all of his questioning, she wasn't so certain anymore. He was making her second guess herself.
If he wouldn't kill her, she could she just find someone else, but... Would she be able to accept that? It wouldn't be the same, she knew. She wanted it to be him; She chose him for a reason, although she didn't quite know what that reason was.
She couldn't remember what it was like to have a strong desire to live. But the more she thought about it, the more she'd realized that recently the idea of dying had been met with more apprehension for her than before, even if it was mostly subconsciously. She had been so numb and indifferent before knowing him, but Zack made her feel things. She felt worry for him when he was hurt or gone too long. She felt the need to protect and care for him. She felt admiration and longing to be near him, and even sometimes negative emotions like annoyance and anger and frustration. Their days together were up and down, but she'd always felt an overwhelming, yet exciting rush emanating from deep within her chest and stomach when Zack was close.
Despite how pleasant the emotion was, she tried hard to suppress and hide it, because that's what she was used to doing. And because she initially found it all to be a bit daunting. The possibility of her feelings for Zack making her not want to go through with their promise had frightened her before. Besides, she'd never burden him with her foolish affections; She was sure that he was incapable of returning them, so he could never know how she felt. It would probably repulse him or freak him out. It wasn't as if she even understood them herself; She only knew that the unruly chaos that was Isaac Foster... truly captivated her.
She'd left it alone for awhile, but curiosity eventually got the better of her. In order to explore more into her feelings that she was so good at hiding, she'd turned to reading as a way to educate herself. First, she'd learned about normal things and of life that she never had the proper chance to experience before. She realized that her life had always been a deranged version of what living was supposed to be like, from the very beginning. It was the same for Zack. She wondered what it would be like if they'd gotten to have normal lives but she probably would never have met him, if that was the case. Reading books as a pastime made her realize that... There was still so much that she'd yet to know, experience, and discover in life. But those books didn't answer the real question she was originally looking for.
Romance stories in particular nurtured her yearning for that certain something that she couldn't fully understand or identify. She'd soon began having more romantic thoughts about Zack. She realized she'd never get the chance to fully understand her feelings for him because she firmly planned to die soon and that plan was set-in-stone. She figured maybe it was better to leave things well enough alone anyway. She didn't want to risk ending their relationship on a bad note if he responded negatively. But if she didn't explored her affections, was she willing to die never knowing, and feeling as if she had unfinished business? Either way, there were risks and she could end up dying with regrets about her decision.
Looking back now, getting closer to Zack hadn't silenced any of her anxieties, or the hesitance she'd been ignoring about dying. If anything, it did the opposite. It only made her wish to be with him, more than dying... She'd discovered something or rather someone she wanted to live for. Perhaps she had been so desperate to rush him into killing her before... so that she wouldn't have time or the chance to change her mind. Maybe, he was right. Maybe dying wasn't really what she wanted anymore either. She guessed perhaps in her heart she never truly wished to die, she only felt that she didn't deserve to live because of all the sins she'd committed.
“Ray,” he questioned again softly. “Will you... forget about dying and stay?” He murmured, barely above a whisper. "Please?"
He allowed her to pull away to look at him. She doubted she'd ever heard him use the word, 'please' before. Her eyes were rimmed red and her cheeks were puffy from tears. Her expression silently questioned him.
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but… If you die, then I’ll never see you again.” There was a genuine softness in his rough features that she’d never witnessed before. His mixed-matched amber eyes were like molten gold. “I don't want to go back to the way things were before you, back to being alone. You're... the only person that's stuck with me this long.”
She sniffed, wiping her tears on the inside of her arm. She didn’t say anything, but slowly nodded in agreement. She was remorseful for all the horrible things she'd done in the past. She still felt like she deserved to die in order to pay for them. But... if Zack was willing to forgive her sins and accept her anyway, then... She guessed she could live with that, if that's what he wished for her to do. She valued his opinion and feelings more than her own or anyone else's. Hope slowly flooded into her dull eyes. Maybe they could make a new promise, different from the one they had before. Without a mutual agreement, there was no absolute reason for them to stay together. She still craved that bond with him, even if it meant having to make a new one. “I'll agree, if...” she paused as if hesitant to name her terms of what she wanted in return. She wasn't sure he'd like it.
"If what?" he pressed impatiently.
"Well, if I'm not going to die anymore, then... I need you to show me how to live," she calmly propositioned. "To be honest, I'm not sure I know how because I've always just existed before." she admitted. He'd always possessed a strong desire to live which she'd always lacked. Maybe he could be her reason to live.
Zack felt a little uncomfortable all of a sudden. What did that even mean? He didn't particularly feel like she needed to change anything about herself, but if that was her terms, then... "How do I do that, Ray?" He seemed hesitant and slightly non-committal, unsure of how exactly he could help with that.
"Just promise not to leave me, that's all," she said quietly, her voice as tiny as a mouse. She didn't know how else to convey it to him. They both wanted her to die before, but now their desire to stay together instead were still one in the same. She'd used her death wish as an excuse because it allowed her to stay with him so long. He made her happy and more alive by just being around and that was good enough-that's all she wanted now. She just couldn't let that happiness get in the way before because she was too set on dying to keep their promise. She suppressed it, as if out of reflex, unable to let herself fully feel it. She was afraid her feelings for him would change her mind about dying... In the end, she guessed they did somewhat. However, she was allowed to change her mind now, seeing as he didn't want to do it. But she wouldn't say any of this to him... She wasn't sure he was ready to hear that kind of thing.
"That's it?" he questioned skeptically as if it were a trick, not really understanding how that was relevant to what she requested previously. She nodded. “Okay, then I swear,” he agreed with a shrug. He instantly felt relieved that he was no longer obligated to hurt her. They both felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted. A smile graced her lips and it was the best one yet.
He managed a small smile in return before black prickled at his vision. He tried to blink it away and rub his eyes, but it only grew. He glanced down at his leg, which actually hurt pretty bad now. He realized he bled all over the bed and blankets, even all over Ray.
She barely had time to notice it too before he fell forward and collapsed unconscious on her without warning, his weight unintentionally crushing her.
Rachel glanced up from her book just in time to see the bathroom door slam behind him. She then noticed the trail of blood he’d left in his wake. It was obvious he’d been drinking, but she wondered where all the blood came from; either he’d just messily killed someone or he was wounded.
Abandoning her book on the nightstand beside her, she strode over to the door. She could hear cursing and loud rustling from the other side. She knocked lightly.
“Go away,” she heard his muffled voice echo through the door in annoyance.
She ignored his demand and grasped the bloodied knob to open the door. As the door cracked open, she peeked inside. He was too preoccupied to notice her right away. He was clad in only his underwear, sitting on the lid of the toilet with his bandages half-removed from his body. Blood was virtually pouring from a hole on his upper leg, and he was in the process of trying to unwrap the bandages from the wound. His knife laid in the vanity sink, still smeared with fresh blood. She noticed a woman purse along with his boots and clothes laying in a bloody pile on the floor. It was difficult to tell how much of it was his. He sharply inhaled through gritted teeth as the blood made the wrapping stick while he peeled it off.
“Can I help?"
He looked up upon hearing her voice and anger flashing in his eyes. “Get out!” He leaned forward to shove her backward and slam the door in her face.
She heard the lock click this time. She stared for a moment, silently processing what she’d seen. It looked like a bullet hole, she’d determined. The idea of him being hurt troubled her, but she knew better than to worry about him. Isaac’s strength and resilience was nearly inhuman. He’d been through much worse.
Rachel contemplated knocking again but decided against it. She would find some other way to be useful to him. If she was useful, he would kill her like they had agreed. She still cherished their promise, as it was sacred to her and the source of their bond.
She wiped the blood from touching the doorknob on her white dress and went to the cabinet for a rag and bucket to fill with soap and water. She got down on her hands and knees and scrubbed the blood out of the floor. She hadn’t bothered to preserve her dress, which was now soiled with crimson. Her eyes wondered back to the bathroom door Zack had yet to emerge from. She heard water running, so she assumed he’d be in there awhile.
Putting away the cleaning supplies, she went to her drawer to retrieve fresh clothes. As soon as she had pulled her dress off over her head, she heard the click of the bathroom door unlocking and Zack came out.
He moved towards the bed wearing only his boxers, running a hand through his messy wet hair. He sharply exhaled and looked exhausted. He couldn’t completely keep the limp out of his unsteady gate. He'd obviously just taken a shower. His body was wrapped in fresh bandages but the ones around his hurt leg were already stained, with a makeshift tourniquet tied above the wound. She doubted he even took the time to get the bullet out. It probably could use a few stitches, if only he’d let her and stop being stubborn. He hadn’t bothered to completely stop the bleeding and she suspected he was still somewhat feeling the effects of alcohol.
“Glad to see you made yourself useful and cleaned u-,” He stopped short, as he finally looked up at her and realized she was almost completely naked. Her developed breasts were exposed and the only thing still keeping a fraction of her modesty were her frilly cotton panties. She didn’t own any bras, seeing as she hadn’t needed them when they first started living together, however she was obviously a woman now. Her ivory figure was curvier, her tiny waist flowing into fuller hips. The pale of her skin contrasted with the rose of her nipples. He had noticed them through her clothes a few times, but he actively paid her development virtually no mind before now. However, it was impossible to ignore now that they were bare right in front of him.
He felt blood rush to his face as well as somewhere lower. He was thankful for the cover the bandages provided or she would be able to see how red his face was. “Fucking cover up,” he muttered angrily, averting his eyes. He was surprised and perplexed at the pleasurable heat flooding to his groin. Sexual arousal was unusual for him; he typically found much more pleasure in killing. The thought of sex was usually disgusting and incredibly annoying to him. Even while the woman from the bar was making out with him, sucking on his neck, unzipping his jeans… He’d never felt aroused even once. Now that he had a very noticeable and uncomfortable erection throbbing against his boxers, he was unsure of how to handle it. He mentally cursed himself, deciding to blame it on the alcohol and still being a bit tipsy.
He tried to hide how flustered he was, but Rachel silently took note of it. She politely pulled a pajama nightdress over her head as quickly as she was able. She didn't feel embarrassed at all, but it was obviously bothering Zack. Aside from his boxers, he hadn’t put his clothes back on before leaving the bathroom, seeing as they were covered in blood. She hadn’t missed the large bulge straining against his underwear, which he instantly attempted to hide by grumpily laying down for bed and pulling the blankets over himself and tucking his freshly cleaned knife under the pillow.
Something about his reaction excited her. Nudity seemed to make him angry. She wondered if it would make him angry enough to kill her. She hadn’t given up on the idea, despite his putting off their agreement.
Rachel collected her bloodied clothes as well as his from the bathroom and put them in the sink. She filled it with cold water to soak them in hopes of washing the stains out of them later. As for the purse, she rummaged through it and counted how much cash was in it and deposited the fifty-six dollars it contained into their money jar. She then returned to her book, picking it up off the night table and crawling into bed beside him.
“Ay,” he protested, “I’m going to bed, go read your stupid girly novel on the couch.” His back was to her and didn’t bother to turn around to properly address her.
She didn’t move. Instead, she found herself staring at the handsome outline and contours of his face wrapped in bandages. She couldn’t help but wonder what was beneath them. She recalled the scene she’d witnessed in the bathroom moments ago and realized she’d never seen so much of his bare skin exposed before. While he was removing his bandages, she'd noticed that there were patches of smooth, unblemished skin mixed in with the areas of severe burns. Not only that, but most of the skin on his lower abdomen and below were virtually burn-free. She'd only gotten a glimpse of his flesh once before when she was sewing him up in the priest's basement and she hadn't unwrapped low enough to see where the burns ended. She'd always just assumed that his burns covered his whole body since it was always completely wrapped up. Strange that after all this time, she was just finding that out now... There was so much she'd yet to find out about him.
She liked watching him sleep sometimes, when his face was relaxed and he was devoid of his usual gruffness and harsh scowl. There was a rare peacefulness about him that could make her completely forget he was a ruthless murderer, not that it really bothered her. She was hardly innocent herself.
Truthfully, she wished to know more about her would-be killer. She realized she didn't even know his favorite color or food. She hoped to know him more intimately before dying; see his face and learn more about his past. She wanted to know all about the illegal orphanage he lived at and what it was like in prison. However, she wondered if he would let her get that far. She'd avoided touchy subjects before because he'd get raging mad and break things. He was so unpredictable most days, but she was willing to press her luck.
He grumbled in irritation at her defiance, annoyed that she hadn't left yet. He sat up and turned around to yell at her some more but she spoke before he could, “Can I see your face?”
“W-What?” he balked at her request as if she’d grown an extra head. “No, are you nuts?”
She gently reached for his face but he recoiled, “Don’t.” She paused, brief disappointment flickering across her features. “Why would you want to see anyway? Trust me, you’d only be disappointed,” He concluded in attempt to lure her away from the idea.
He sighed when she wasn’t deterred and only stared at him with her usual innocent dullness. She looked at him expectantly as if waiting for him to change his mind. He chewed his cheek a minute before caving, “Alright, fine. Knock yourself out,” he muttered wryly. He wondered if the alcohol was making him soft...
Her face brightened, perhaps even reaching the blue depths of her eyes. The fleeting happiness in her face should have awakened the killer within him, but for some reason it didn’t. He dismissed it as just being too tired. Besides, killing one person was enough for one night.
He averted his eyes and let her pull the wrapping away. She anxiously made quick work of it, like a child opening a Christmas present.
The bandages fell away and he avoided eye contact, feeling uncharacteristically insecure. He was afraid of the look of disgust he irrationally imagined was probably on her face. A moment passed in tense silence, which he couldn’t stand.
“Satisfied?” He questioned impatiently, trying to cover it back up. Her chilled hand stopped him and he risked the glance at her. Her face was absent of disgust or judgement, much to his relief. She looked more… intrigued. Morbidly curious, maybe.
She gently touched his textured skin, running her cold fingers down his cheek and traced his strong jawline. He had attractive features, and the disfiguring burns on his face really weren’t as bad as she’d imagined, considering what had happened to him. She could still easily see past the marred skin and make out what he'd looked like before. He was handsome, she concluded, even despite the burns. He didn't need to hide under those bandages.
His hand caught hers and interrupted her train of thought as he pulled it away from his face, “Quit being a creep.” Her intense staring was unnerving. He resumed wrapping his face back up. She stopped him again, this time anger flashed in his wild eyes.
“Please, leave them off,” her meek voice requested.
The anger suddenly fell from his features as quickly as it had appeared. Grumbling, he dropped his hand and abandoned the wrapping. He incredulously wondered why, but resisted the urge to ask. He laid back down, muttering something under his breath.
He turned away from her, putting his back to her again. “I mean it Ray, go to the couch,” he insisted again upon remembering her unwelcome presence invading his bed. They'd made an agreement upon finding the abandoned cabin to take turns sleeping in the bed, since there was only one and it was a bit on the small side. Tonight was his night to have the bed and she had another thing coming if she thought he was gonna give it up or share.
He felt the bed jostle behind him. He assumed she was getting up until a small arm snaked around his waist from behind, shyly inching downward toward his crotch. He felt his body beginning to respond to her inappropriate touch. Startled, he sat up. “What are you doing?!”
She sat up too, leaning towards him and touching his chest, which was only covered by his bandages. “Does it make you angry when I touch you that way?" there was an eagerness in her words, "If I keep doing it, will it make you want to kill me?”
Truthfully, she enjoyed their time together but she was tired of biding her time and being haunted by a guilty conscience for what she'd done to her parents and other innocent people. She still needed to pay for her sins, but he was taking so long and dragging it out. She’d tried provoking him in other ways, but lying to him didn't seem to anger him enough, her happiness and smiles weren’t convincing enough either, not even her tears did the trick. Nothing she tried ever worked, but… She’d never tried this before. It was now or never, she had nothing to lose.
Suddenly her motives were clear to him; She wanted to provoke him into killing her. She was using him to get what she wanted, as he suspected. He’d do it when he felt like it and on his terms, not hers. He relaxed a bit and scoffed. “It’s not time yet, what’s the rush anyway? I’ll kill you when I want to.” He removed her hand from his chest as if he were disgusted by it.
Undeterred by his standoffish behavior, she determined she had to be more persistent and climbed onto his lap, straddling his hips. He visibly stiffened, feeling his manhood stir in response. She put her hands on the wall on either side of his face to support her weight as she leaned in. He didn't know how to deal with the way she was making him feel. Panicked, he leaned backward as if to put more space between them, unintentionally hitting his head against the wall. He groaned and rubbed the back of his head. “The hell do you think your-“
“Do you want to do it now?” her voice was low and probably a little unintentionally seductive. She began forcefully pulling and unraveling the bandages at his waist, but she didn't make it very far before he stopped her and pushed her hands away. Her provocative behavior and close proximity made him uncomfortable. He could feel her breath fan against his lips, feeling insecure without his face covered up. Feeling anything other than anger usually frustrated him, which usually lead to killing someone… She was playing with fire and she knew it.
“No,” he replied stubbornly, but he contradicted himself when he pulled his blade from where he'd stashed it and held it to her throat. “Seriously, back off.” He threatened her, but there was hesitance like he was bluffing. He swallowed hard, but the lump forming in his throat didn’t go away.
His threats didn’t faze her, as usual. If he got angry and killed her, she was okay with that. However, if he chose to accept her advances, she was fine with that outcome as well. “Let me be useful to you then,” she insisted breathily, her sexual innuendos mixed with the subtle friction she was unknowingly creating against his crotch made him harden even more. He groaned, almost as if in pain, but she determined that it was working. She disregarded the weapon on her throat and leaned in further, pressing her lips to his.
As if entranced, he couldn’t find the resolve to avoid her. He kept the knife to her neck but yielded to her movement. His heart was pounding so hard, it made him want to rip it out of his damn chest. The kiss didn’t have any tongue but her lips lingered on his for an extended period of time. Her lips were soft, unlike his slightly chapped ones. She heard him groan needily against her mouth, igniting a desire within her. Slowly she broke the kiss, the lust in her eyes mirroring his own. He admittedly craved more from her but he wouldn’t allow it. His eyes narrowed, looking angry with her and possibly himself, “Get off me, and don’t ever do that again.”
“Does it make you angry?,” she encouraged breathily, her breath lightly trembling. Her cheeks were stained a pretty shade of pink that matched the rose of her lips.
He lowered his blade and abandoned it, since it didn’t have the effect he intended and pushed her away with his hands instead. She fell back against his unbearably stiff erection that poked her bottom. “Ah, Son of a-“ he groaned in sudden pain and she glance at his erection in utter confusion.
His face flushed again, but this time he didn’t have bandages to hide behind. He looked away in frustration and embarrassment at how clueless she looked. However, it was quickly forgotten when she began rubbing herself against him. He could feel her moist folds through her panties. Maybe she wasn't as clueless as he thought.
“S-Stop,” He gasped at the pleasurable friction, his cock aching for release. His face was hot and flushed, his resolve potentially slipping at this point. He'd never felt this way or had this kind of reaction for anyone before. She was different somehow. He realized that the feeling was mutual. Her face, he noticed, was flushed too. Her chest rose and fell with her heavy breathing. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. It felt wrong somehow, although having a conscience wasn’t a common concept for him. He may be a serial killer but he wasn’t into molesting young girls. It was more like she was molesting him, though.
She seemed to have gotten too carried away with desire to listen. She kept rocking her hips against his unbearably stiff bulge, so he harshly grabbed her hips to stop the unwanted pleasure. She stopped and winced at his rough treatment, but desperation flashed in her eyes. “It’s okay if you don’t want to,” She said bluntly. “You can just kill me if you want,” she begged, “I'll only get as far as you let me.”
His dick throbbed in agreement with her. Unless he planned on killing her, she'd only continue to pursue him. He contemplated his options and sighed in defeat. He reluctantly complied, but not feeling confident he was making the right choice. His bruising hold on her hips relaxed.
She anxiously pressed her mouth to his again. Her kiss was chaste and sweet, same as before. But when she went to pull away, he held her there. Her heart nearly leaped from her chest.
He'd leaned forward and grasped the back of her head, fingers intertwining with her pale hair and forced his tongue into her mouth. He was rough and a bit aggressive, but she didn’t mind. His other hand moved from her thigh to grope her butt as she continued to rub against him. She soon tore her mouth away from him to breathe, both gasping for breath.
He shifted to pursue her body some more, but winced at the sharp pain in his leg when he moved it.
She urged him back down. “You’re hurt.”
Now that the numbing effects of the alcohol was wearing off, his bullet wound was beginning to bother him more, not that he’d admit it.
“I’m fine,” he protested, pushing her backward and pinning her down under him. He held both her hands captive with one hand as he kissed down her neck and groped her breasts through her clothes. She let out a tiny moan, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment at the lewd sound that unintentionally escaped her.
He looked up at her, but didn't say anything. He continued to nip and suck her flesh while his free hand explored her, slipping under her gown to feel the smooth plains of her stomach, her tiny waist, and her hips. His fervent yet strangely gentle touch on her bare skin felt like the perfect mix of sin and heaven.
She felt the urge to touch him too, but he wouldn't release her hands. She tugged on them, silently asking him to let them go. His grasp loosened and she freed one hand, shyly touching his bandaged chest. She realized she'd maybe never have an opportunity to explore him like this again.
She let her tiny hand wander down his lean but toned frame, noting the shape and every crevice of his body, or what she could feel of it through the fabric wrapped around it. The sensation of Zack nipping and sucking on her neck and collarbone sent hot waves through her and she held back a moan, a little distracted by the pleasure he was inflicting. Still, she managed to unravel the bandages at his waist some more, finishing her work in loosening them earlier to grant her access to his bare flesh. Her hands roamed more of his exposed body, appreciating the feel of his muscled abdomen. It felt good to touch so much of his bare skin, though she could tell he wasn't used to being touched by the way he slightly recoiled from it. The different texture of his skin didn't bother her at all but she still faltered a moment when she came across the deep, familiar scar stretching from one side of his stomach to the other, just barely above his navel. The memory of his guts nearly spilling out of him flickered through her mind. She briefly ran her fingertips over it and continued further down his damaged body.
The muscles around his hips created an alluring v-shaped trail leading into the waistband of this boxers. When her hand reached it's destination, she grasp his hardened length through the restrictive fabric that restrained it. It twitched in response and she heard him gasp, making her flush even more. Her small hand wasn't quite big enough to wrap fully around him, but she continued to feel him through the fabric.
He groan, trying to ignore the sharp pangs of pleasure she was causing. "Are you sure about this?" he murmured huskily, noting her sudden nervousness. She loved hearing his rough voice laced with desire.
She nodded shyly, letting go of his shaft and pulling the waistband of his underwear downward to remove the last article of clothing on his body. He assisted to remove it the rest of the way. She stared down at his full erect member, presumably having never seen a naked man before. Her lingering gaze was making him uncomfortable.
"Stop staring," he said more out of self-consciousness rather than the annoyed tone that touched his words, "It's your turn then."
Her panties were soaked as he pulled them down her legs and discarded them on the floor. She laid shamelessly exposed to him, wet and ready for him to enter her. He ached in anticipation, but was worried he wouldn't be able to pace himself. If he knew how to properly control his urges, he probably wouldn’t regularly murder people. What if he got too rough or choked her to death or something?
He groaned in annoyance and hesitance. His head lowered, unable to make himself continue. He didn't want to hurt her, which he avoided overthinking too much about. It was probably better if she initiated this part. She understood his reluctance without him needing to elaborate and switched their positions, urging him back down on his forearms and climbed on top of him.
She positioned him between her slick velvet folds. The thought occurred to him, why would she even want to do this with someone like him, a monster, in the first place? He silently second guessed his decision, but he didn’t stop her.
He leaned up to pull the hem of her nightdress over her head, his cock tightening with further arousal upon seeing her luscious breasts again.
He was excruciatingly hard, aching to plunge into her. His mouth found her erect nipple, circling his tongue around it while his other hand caressed the other before moving down her body to find her folds. He pressed his finger between them and rubbed her clit.
She panted, clinging to him in desperation. She wondered if Zack had done this before. If it was his first time, she couldn't tell. After a moment of light teasing, his hand stopped massaging her to roam over her body some more. Their lips intertwined again as she put slight pressure against his length at her entrance, letting his tip sink ever so slightly into her narrow channel. He broke the kiss to sharply inhale at the resistance, which was pleasurable and a little painful.
Rachel’s face contorted as well in what looked like excruciating pain, unshed tears brimming in her clenched eyes. She soon schooled her expression again, realizing he was looking at her.
There was a strange pang in his chest. He was about to tell her to stop but was cut short when she decided to impale herself even more, his shaft sinking deeper into her blissfully tight passage. He gasped, this time only in pleasure. He exhaled heavily, clenching his eyes and letting his head fall back for a minute. She felt so good, he wanted to explode right then. He cursed to himself, letting an unintentional moan slip. The flesh of his cock throbbed against her walls. This was torture and he was finding it hard to show restraint. The part of him that craved violence wanted to just throw her underneath him and pound into her, rip her to shreds. Still, he managed to keep those urges in check. Barely.
He allowed her to sit the rest of the way down on him agonizingly slow, her brows drawn together as she shifted her hips in attempt to adjust to his size. He felt the ending of her passage shifting against the head of his cock. He could stand much more of the torturous teasing.
He soon flipped her to the side and switched their positions without removing his cock from her. She was still tense, trying to ignore her own pain but he figured it was better to get it over with than to prolong it. Her passage gripped him as he pulled out most of the way, and thrust back in as far as her body would allow. He forced himself to go slow until she began to relax and he could tell it was becoming more pleasurable for her. She began lifting her hips to meet his, her back arching in encouragement.
He picked up the pace a bit, but not letting himself get carried away. His cock racked her tiny body with every thrust. She gasped, fisting his hair and desperately grasping his shoulder as he continued pumping into her. Their bodies were hot with lust and passion. She clung to him frantically and he deeply enjoyed the gasps and moans escaping her, determined to keep evoking more. He shifted and continued thrusting at a different angle. Her toes curled and her legs clutched around his waist.
As the need for release increased, he was beginning to lose restraint. He went harder and faster, feeling the pleasure building with every thrust. He was trying to hold out, make it last as long as possible. He was breathing in sharp gasps. She watched Zack's brow furrow and his face contort in pleasure, even seeming slightly vulnerable, completely focused on his movement. She thought she must be the only person to have ever seen him like this. His bangs were matted his sweat to his forehead.
Just a little more. She was so close to-
He abruptly pulled out of her, interrupting her thoughts. She instantly missed the feel of him inside. He forcefully turned her over, lifting her hips up and forcing her onto all fours. She wondered what he was doing until her head was roughly shoved back down into the pillow and held there. She gasped as he forced his length into her again. Her pussy felt so full with a pleasurable pressure as he stretched her to fit over his shaft. The new position felt even better than before when he picked up his pace again. He was hitting the right spot and something was building inside of her as she gripped him and her cunt tightly stoked his cock while he went in and out.
He kept a rough but steady pace, until he could feel his climax nearing. His thrusts became more desperate and sloppy. Her moaning was getting louder too, he noted. "Fuck," He nearly choked on air, suddenly feeling her pussy clamp even harder around him. He felt her slick juices coat his member and the last of his restraint crumbled. A few final desperate thrusts and she felt his cock convulse inside of her and spill his seed deep within her. His body shuddered and he let out a strangled moan as he released, pouring his cum into her. He didn't move right away, as he came down from the high.
Juices leaked out of her as he pulled out and fell to the side of her. His body went limp with exhaustion, chest heaving up and down with his breathing. His foggy mind still could quite fully process anything. She shifted beside him to join him, her thighs feeling a little sticky.
After a moment, reality or maybe dread started to sink in. He realized that everything just became a whole lot more complicated between them and he felt overwhelmed and conflicted. He was a very rash person; He’d gotten carried away and now he was worried about what he’d gotten himself into and the consequences. He could easily just fix it by killing her… It’s what she wanted anyway. In fact, she was expecting him to do it right now... He'd already agreed.
Zack suddenly had a dark, brooding look on his face. She sat up on her forearms to lean over him, speaking breathlessly “Zack? Is something wrong?”
He growled in frustration, shoving her backward to lay back on the bed as she was, taking her off guard. Her blonde hair fell prettily around her pale naked body, his blade held to her neck, threatening to end her life. Her luscious, perfectly shaped breasts jostled a little, nipples pink and erect. Her body was so tiny and fragile beneath him. He was already halfway hard again despite himself; He hated that she had this effect on him, he wanted it to go away. If he put an end to her, he wouldn't have to feel this way about her anymore.
The thought of slicing her jugular and watching the waterfall of blood rush out and down her neck excited him. She’d make a beautiful corpse, he thought. They were both still sweating and panting a little. Her lips were slightly swollen. Her blue eyes beamed up at him with pleading anticipation, silently encouraging him.
His mind screamed at him to just do it, but his corresponding extremity wouldn’t comply. Something was holding him back. His conflicting emotions were so confusing and frustrating him. He had the blade pressed to her delicate flesh enough to draw blood, yet his hand hesitated. All it would take was a flick of his wrist and she would be no more. He stared down at her beautiful porcelain face, a small stream of blood he'd created with the pressure of his blade running down her neck.
Would it really feel that rewarding to slash her throat? What if it wasn’t? What if, he regretted killing her? He recalled the woman he’d murdered earlier and how sick with dread he felt when he’d imagined it was Rachel.
His body was tense and his hand shook. His head bowed in anguish, a scowl appearing on his face. She shifted under him and he applied more pressure, "don't fucking move," his threatening words and feeling his hot breath on her neck sent shivers down her spine.
He wanted more than anything to want to kill her... But he knew he couldn’t bring himself to do it. For the first time in his life, he didn’t want to do it. Somewhere along the line, his promise that he fully intended to keep had turned into a lie; he'd lied to her, but also to himself.
"Is death really what you want?" He asked huskily, his body trembling. Rachel was taken aback by his hesitance and didn't know what to say. She was at a loss for words.
"I said, is it really what you want?!" he persisted with more force, "You want me to kill you right now?!"
She was too distracted by his intense show of emotion to respond. She noticed his voice crack and the bitterness lacing his words, as if he were on the verge of tears. She was used to his outbursts and anger, but... he'd never looked so weak at the same time before.
He breathed in frustration, not really expecting a response anymore. "Has nothing changed for you?" He pleaded, softer. She could tell he wanted something from her, but she wasn't sure what it was. He was confusing her.
He huffed again, sounding a little more calm. He was trying desperately to make sense out of his thoughts. It was time to tell her the truth. “Truth is… I think I lied to you, Ray. I don’t want you to die,” he admitted dejectedly. “When I made the promise to kill you, I meant it. But I don’t think that’s what I want anymore.” His killing hand fell away from her at his confession.
Finally, she understood. A strange look flashed over her features as she finally found the motivation to speak. “You’re breaking your promise to me?” there was bitterness and disappointment coating her words as she sat up, forcing him to do the same. If he wouldn’t kill her, then where did it leave them? The very foundation of their bond was broken. She'd saved the honors for him and he didn't even want it. She was nothing to him; She wasn’t even worth killing.
“I’m sorry, Ray. I can’t do it,” he hung his head in defeat. He knew he was letting her down. He couldn't give her what she wanted anymore. All this time, she'd waited for him... for nothing.
Unshed tears began forming in her blue eyes. She was shaking and her hands balled into fists. She was very quiet for a moment with her head bowed. He could do it; He was just choosing not to, she thought bitterly. She could feel the moisture building in her eyes. If not to kill her, then reason did he have to keep her around now? They didn't need each other anymore.
“Ray?” he questioned when he noticed the tear roll down her cheek.
She let out a strangled cry and hit him, swinging her tiny fists into his chest over and over. He was stunned, never having witnessed such raw, sincere emotion from her. He caught her hands and held them captive to stop her assault. His words escaped him.
“You’re a liar! You swore to me! You promised!” It was like all of her suppressed emotions were being released at once... anger, sadness, frustration, hopelessness. He pulled her to him and held her tightly, despite her struggling. She soon fell limp in his arms, sobbing freely. Her still-bare skin was soft and felt good against him.
Zack felt an unfamiliar tightness in his chest as he felt her tiny body tremble against him as she cried. He was overwhelmed with strange feelings and foreign emotions that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel until now. His heart hurt and once again, he had to resist the urge to rip the nuisance of an organ from his chest. Any time he felt any unfamiliar emotion, it made him uncomfortable and he’d vehemently pushed them away. He didn’t understand normal emotions. But he knew he felt something special for her, unlike anything he'd ever felt before; Something like fondness. Somehow, at some point, he'd grown attached to the brat.
He mentally berated himself. Admitting those feelings even to himself made him nauseous. He could just deny it and keep pretending that she meant nothing to him, but... that'd make him a liar again.
He felt so warm and Rachel found herself enjoying his strong embrace. The comfort he was providing was making it difficult for her to stay angry at him. She buried her face into his shoulder, inhaling his personal musk. She felt his arms tighten around her.
Zack dipped his head and caught the sweet smell of her hair, feeling the softness of her porcelain skin under his fingertips. There was nothing more absolute than death and he knew he would miss her if she left him forever. For the first time, he embraced his feelings of attachment, protectiveness, fear, regret… He'd never be the same without her.
"Is death still what you want?" He sounded exhausted and reserved this time, as if afraid of her answer. "You want to leave forever?" What he really meant to ask was, 'you want to leave me forever?'.
'...to leave?' She finally allowed herself to consider his words. She'd only ever wished to stay with him. She'd never given it a second thought in the past. Waiting and wishing for death was all she knew for so long, she'd always been so sure before. As long as she was under the impression it was what he wanted, it had remained what she'd wanted as well.
Now that she knew he didn't want to, was it still what she really wanted? After all of his questioning, she wasn't so certain anymore. He was making her second guess herself.
If he wouldn't kill her, she could she just find someone else, but... Would she be able to accept that? It wouldn't be the same, she knew. She wanted it to be him; She chose him for a reason, although she didn't quite know what that reason was.
She couldn't remember what it was like to have a strong desire to live. But the more she thought about it, the more she'd realized that recently the idea of dying had been met with more apprehension for her than before, even if it was mostly subconsciously. She had been so numb and indifferent before knowing him, but Zack made her feel things. She felt worry for him when he was hurt or gone too long. She felt the need to protect and care for him. She felt admiration and longing to be near him, and even sometimes negative emotions like annoyance and anger and frustration. Their days together were up and down, but she'd always felt an overwhelming, yet exciting rush emanating from deep within her chest and stomach when Zack was close.
Despite how pleasant the emotion was, she tried hard to suppress and hide it, because that's what she was used to doing. And because she initially found it all to be a bit daunting. The possibility of her feelings for Zack making her not want to go through with their promise had frightened her before. Besides, she'd never burden him with her foolish affections; She was sure that he was incapable of returning them, so he could never know how she felt. It would probably repulse him or freak him out. It wasn't as if she even understood them herself; She only knew that the unruly chaos that was Isaac Foster... truly captivated her.
She'd left it alone for awhile, but curiosity eventually got the better of her. In order to explore more into her feelings that she was so good at hiding, she'd turned to reading as a way to educate herself. First, she'd learned about normal things and of life that she never had the proper chance to experience before. She realized that her life had always been a deranged version of what living was supposed to be like, from the very beginning. It was the same for Zack. She wondered what it would be like if they'd gotten to have normal lives but she probably would never have met him, if that was the case. Reading books as a pastime made her realize that... There was still so much that she'd yet to know, experience, and discover in life. But those books didn't answer the real question she was originally looking for.
Romance stories in particular nurtured her yearning for that certain something that she couldn't fully understand or identify. She'd soon began having more romantic thoughts about Zack. She realized she'd never get the chance to fully understand her feelings for him because she firmly planned to die soon and that plan was set-in-stone. She figured maybe it was better to leave things well enough alone anyway. She didn't want to risk ending their relationship on a bad note if he responded negatively. But if she didn't explored her affections, was she willing to die never knowing, and feeling as if she had unfinished business? Either way, there were risks and she could end up dying with regrets about her decision.
Looking back now, getting closer to Zack hadn't silenced any of her anxieties, or the hesitance she'd been ignoring about dying. If anything, it did the opposite. It only made her wish to be with him, more than dying... She'd discovered something or rather someone she wanted to live for. Perhaps she had been so desperate to rush him into killing her before... so that she wouldn't have time or the chance to change her mind. Maybe, he was right. Maybe dying wasn't really what she wanted anymore either. She guessed perhaps in her heart she never truly wished to die, she only felt that she didn't deserve to live because of all the sins she'd committed.
“Ray,” he questioned again softly. “Will you... forget about dying and stay?” He murmured, barely above a whisper. "Please?"
He allowed her to pull away to look at him. She doubted she'd ever heard him use the word, 'please' before. Her eyes were rimmed red and her cheeks were puffy from tears. Her expression silently questioned him.
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but… If you die, then I’ll never see you again.” There was a genuine softness in his rough features that she’d never witnessed before. His mixed-matched amber eyes were like molten gold. “I don't want to go back to the way things were before you, back to being alone. You're... the only person that's stuck with me this long.”
She sniffed, wiping her tears on the inside of her arm. She didn’t say anything, but slowly nodded in agreement. She was remorseful for all the horrible things she'd done in the past. She still felt like she deserved to die in order to pay for them. But... if Zack was willing to forgive her sins and accept her anyway, then... She guessed she could live with that, if that's what he wished for her to do. She valued his opinion and feelings more than her own or anyone else's. Hope slowly flooded into her dull eyes. Maybe they could make a new promise, different from the one they had before. Without a mutual agreement, there was no absolute reason for them to stay together. She still craved that bond with him, even if it meant having to make a new one. “I'll agree, if...” she paused as if hesitant to name her terms of what she wanted in return. She wasn't sure he'd like it.
"If what?" he pressed impatiently.
"Well, if I'm not going to die anymore, then... I need you to show me how to live," she calmly propositioned. "To be honest, I'm not sure I know how because I've always just existed before." she admitted. He'd always possessed a strong desire to live which she'd always lacked. Maybe he could be her reason to live.
Zack felt a little uncomfortable all of a sudden. What did that even mean? He didn't particularly feel like she needed to change anything about herself, but if that was her terms, then... "How do I do that, Ray?" He seemed hesitant and slightly non-committal, unsure of how exactly he could help with that.
"Just promise not to leave me, that's all," she said quietly, her voice as tiny as a mouse. She didn't know how else to convey it to him. They both wanted her to die before, but now their desire to stay together instead were still one in the same. She'd used her death wish as an excuse because it allowed her to stay with him so long. He made her happy and more alive by just being around and that was good enough-that's all she wanted now. She just couldn't let that happiness get in the way before because she was too set on dying to keep their promise. She suppressed it, as if out of reflex, unable to let herself fully feel it. She was afraid her feelings for him would change her mind about dying... In the end, she guessed they did somewhat. However, she was allowed to change her mind now, seeing as he didn't want to do it. But she wouldn't say any of this to him... She wasn't sure he was ready to hear that kind of thing.
"That's it?" he questioned skeptically as if it were a trick, not really understanding how that was relevant to what she requested previously. She nodded. “Okay, then I swear,” he agreed with a shrug. He instantly felt relieved that he was no longer obligated to hurt her. They both felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted. A smile graced her lips and it was the best one yet.
He managed a small smile in return before black prickled at his vision. He tried to blink it away and rub his eyes, but it only grew. He glanced down at his leg, which actually hurt pretty bad now. He realized he bled all over the bed and blankets, even all over Ray.
She barely had time to notice it too before he fell forward and collapsed unconscious on her without warning, his weight unintentionally crushing her.
A/N: Chapter 3 is Hopefully Coming Soon. It is partially written already, but I have a LOT of fics I'm working on atm, so try to bare with me and please be patient :)