Chapter One

A/N: I've been thinking about writing a Thomas x OC for a few years now, and I've finally started one.

WARNINGS: Mild horror theme, physical abuse, brief mention of cannibalism, swearing, etc. These warnings may apply to future chapters.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies, just a fan of them.

"Sit down with us, Kate."

I froze, halfway to the safety of the staircase, where I could venture upstairs and put some space between myself and the family that had forcibly adopted me. And yet, I had to turn back. I couldn't ignore Luda Mae. "I don't...I mean, I should be getting on with the rest of my chores. And I...I'm really not hungry." It was not easy to talk to Luda Mae, or to the others in the family. Uncle Monty was alright, but I was uncomfortable in his presence because I didn't like the way he stared at me sometimes. The one that scared me the most was Luda Mae's eldest son, Charlie, who insisted that everyone call him Sheriff Hoyt. I often wondered what had happened to the real Sheriff after Charlie had stolen his identity. Still, it was probably better that I didn't know. As for Thomas, the youngest son in the family, he never spoke at all. His presence was felt even when he was not around. Despite his murderous nature, he had an odd naivety about him. Out of everyone in the family Thomas was the one I liked the most, and I felt slightly safer around him then Hoyt although I still felt uneasy in his presence at times. He had actually saved my life. He took lives like they were nothing, but for some reason I could not explain he had decided to keep me alive.

"Don't make Mama have to ask you again, sit down!" Hoyt snapped, glaring venomously at me. He half rose from his chair, and I hurried over to an empty chair and sat down before he stood up all the way. I wouldn't put it past him to drag me over to the dining table and tie me to a chair.

"There, that's better. I like this, the whole family eating together...You should come and eat your meals with us every day," Luda Mae smiled as she placed a bowl of meat stew in front of me. I was horrified at the thought. Usually I ate alone, which I much preferred to eating with them. That way, I could fill up on whatever food I got my hands on from the store and simply pretend to eat her meals. I had a process of hiding the unwanted food which I got rid of later and showing her empty dishes. Every meal she made had meat in, and not of the animal kind, the human kind. It made me sick just thinking about it.

"Oh, no. I don't think that's a good idea, Mrs Hewitt."

Luda Mae's smile became fixed, and she eyed me with a hard stare. "I told you not to call me that, Kate. You should know better by now, after all these months."

"Sorry...Mama," I replied reluctantly.

She was not completely satisfied with my apology, I saw her frown as she made her way to her own seat, but she accepted it nonetheless. After we had joined hands and said grace, everyone at the table started to eat. Under Luda Mae's watchful gaze, I had some of the broth and what I prayed were just the vegetable pieces and not any of the meat. I ate a few slices of dry bread from a home baked loaf I had made yesterday. I ate slower than the others, and it was not long before Hoyt was finished. Uncle Monty was next to finish, but while he wheeled himself away from the table, Hoyt lingered on past the time Luda Mae had cleared her bowl. He just sat there, idly drumming his fingers against the dining table. It got on my nerves, but I ignored him as best as I could. It was bad enough for him to start on me without being provoked, but if I aggravated him it would just be worse for me. I hurriedly cleared the table, stacking up the bowls and gathering up the cutlery. I escaped into the relatively safe haven of the kitchen and started to wash the dishes.

"Leave the dishes, girl. You can take Thomas's tray down to him today." Luda Mae had already prepared food for Thomas, and it was resting on one of the kitchen counters, covered with a cloth. I was surprised, since usually Luda Mae took Thomas his food on the days when he was too busy down in his dark lair to come up and eat with the family. I did not question Luda Mae, though. It would only make her yell at me for what she liked to call back chatting. And she might have hit me for back chatting. She only hit me when she thought I needed to be disciplined, and she never hit me hard enough to leave a bruise, but I still did not like it. Hoyt was another matter entirely. He hit me whenever he felt like it, and Thomas was the only one who could stop him from giving me a beating.

I went down to Thomas's dark lair, the cellar which lay underneath the main house. I stopped on the last step of the stairs that led down there, trying not to step on the trail of drying blood. I had heard faint screams earlier, and I figured the blood belonged to another hapless victim. It was quiet down there now, and so perhaps their suffering was at an end. "Thomas?" I called out. I never liked going down there if I could help it. But I knew I should be thankful I actually was able to leave the cellar in one piece, alive and healthy. So many travellers never did.

I heard the sound of Thomas's heavy footsteps before I saw him appear out of the dark depths. He towered over me, with his broad shoulders and solid muscular build, which could be so menacing but yet he was protective towards me. At least for now. One day he would probably get bored of having me around and I would be his next victim. Hoyt took great pleasure in telling me about the other girls that had been trapped here and then had been 'set free' which meant Thomas had slit their throats. I was terrified that I could be the next girl to be 'set free' but I had decided I would rather bleed out than face the torture Thomas put most of his poor victims through. I was a selfish coward, I knew it. I should try to escape, but I was too frightened of what would happen. I would rather stay and be alive than fail miserably and be slaughtered. Nobody had ever escaped alive from the Hewitts, in the time that I knew them. And I knew their macabre family ways had started years ago.

"Hi, Thomas..." I set the tray down on the nearest counter. "Guess what Mama made for us tonight?" He did not say a word, which was not unusual because he was a mute. His silence was something I took a while to get used to, because I felt awkward talking and not getting a reply back. Still, Thomas seemed to like me talking to him, even if I did sometimes ramble on nervously. I thought this because of the way his deep brown eyes lit up with interest when I was talking to him. He also would sometimes get angry or upset if I had to leave a conversation we were in because I was being called elsewhere. "Yeah, you guessed it. Stew again..." I smiled uncertainly. "Well, I have my chores to get on with and you should eat the stew while it's still warm."

I turned to leave, but stopped when I felt a heavy touch on my shoulder. "What's wrong, Thomas?" I asked, turning back to him. He walked over to a table, and kept looking back at me as if to reassure himself that I was not going to leave him. He picked up something from the table, which glinted in the electric light which lit up the cellar. He walked back over and held it up in front of me. It was a gold necklace, with a heart locket. It was clear from blood, but I instinctively knew it had come from one of Thomas's victims. It was beautiful, but I had no desire to hold it myself or to own it. "It's very pretty, Thomas. I really do have to go now."

Thomas made a low grumbling noise of dissent, and he frowned at me so fiercely it sent a shiver down my spine. "Oh Thomas...I know you want me to have this. Thank you, thank you so much but I just don't...I don't think I can accept it." He advanced towards me a step, and I stepped backwards cautiously. "Look, now just be reasonable. It's not mine, if I had it I would be like a thief, don't you understand?" I knew it was a mistake as soon as I said it, and that I had hurt his feelings, as he grabbed hold of my arms tightly, his dark eyes trained on me coldly. "I didn't mean it like that. You know I don't...I'm not like Hoyt. He's just so damn ignorant. You're smart, Thomas..." His grip on my arms tightened so much I could not help letting out a soft yelp. It really hurt, his fingers were digging into my skin painfully and yet I knew he was holding back on me. He had so much strength in him, but he was only aiming to hurt me to punish me, not like how he would treat his other victims who he would horrifically maim and kill. "I'm sorry, Thomas..." I knew I was going to have bruises on my arms. Hoyt was partially to blame for Thomas acting this way. I knew Thomas was annoyed that I was refusing his gift, but it was more me telling him he did not understand that had irritated him. Hoyt often bullied him and acted like Thomas was slow, when it was not true. He was mute, and also he viewed the world in a different way to me, but he was definitely not a dummy like Hoyt so often claimed he was. He was smart, and quick to take action when necessary to protect himself or his family. "I'll take the necklace." I gave in as the pain brought tears to my eyes and became too much to handle. I felt weak and it ashamed me. I was also a little afraid he might snap suddenly and go too far. Yet, that feeling I had, that he cared about me in some way, was what made that fear that he would snap was only a small fear.

I was relieved when he let go of me and dropped the necklace into my hand. I undid the catch and then reluctantly put on the necklace. It settled on my chest, feeling cool and smooth against my skin but I also felt like I had been burned. "So what do you think?" I searched his face, most of it hidden by his leather mask, and I smiled when I saw that his eyes were softer now, with a hint of approval. We were alright again; the air had been cleared of tension. At least for Thomas. Not me, I was still on edge. I often was, around him. He embraced me for a few moments, with a gentle hold. I knew it was his way of saying sorry for hurting me. "It's alright, Thomas." I returned his embrace, and lightly patted his back. "I upset you, and I should have thought about what I was saying."

After I left Thomas, I made my way out of the house with a basket to collect the clothes that had been hanging from the line all day to air dry, after I had hand washed them under the supervision of Luda Mae. It was better outside, where I could breathe in the fresh air and imagine I was free. However, I was bound to the house by fear for my life. I had seen first-hand what evil the family were capable of, so I did not even want to imagine what would happen if they caught me running away. And it made me feel bad to think of Thomas and how he would feel if I left. It would upset him a lot. Sometimes it felt like he and I were allies. I knew it was twisted that I should feel anything for him but hate, disgust, and anger but I did. That was not to say I did not hate him at all, a part of me did hate him and his whole family for what they had done to all their victims, and keeping me captive, although the highest level of hatred I felt was towards Hoyt. He was such a manipulative bastard and although Thomas was to blame for the majority of the deaths and slaughter of the travellers unfortunate enough to wind up at the Hewitt home, Hoyt was the one who incited a lot of the violence and I was sure he had started Thomas on the path to becoming a monster. Yet Thomas was not just a monster. He was mentally imbalanced, I knew that, but he had a heart. He loved his family, I knew that for sure. And he cared for me, just a little. And it meant a lot to me. I was all alone here, but I did not feel so lonely when Thomas was around. I also relied on him for support. He was the only one capable of protecting me from Hoyt, who would have long since persuaded Thomas to get rid of me if he could. And who knew, Hoyt might succeed one day or Thomas could kill me of his own accord. Then it would all be over for me, but for now at least I was alive.

I threw all the clothes pegs I collected as I took down the clothes into a small container, and then picked up my basket. I decided to walk around the house once before I went inside again, wanting to avoid going back inside any sooner than absolutely necessary. However, I knew I could not stay outside for too long. Luda Mae would complain and criticize me for being slow, or worse still Hoyt would come after me. As I walked around the back of the house, I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw a dark haired man slumped against a post, with his hands behind his back, tied tightly to the post with rope. He was in his early twenties, I figured, so only a few years older than me. He looked like he had been viciously worked over, as he had bloody cuts and a darkening bruise on his face, with the area appearing to be swollen. I could only presume it to be Hoyt's handiwork.

It appeared that he had passed out, and although it was horrible I was relieved he had. I preferred not to know anything about the family's victims. I kept my distance and usually was able to avoid seeing them, though I often heard their screams. If I acted like they did not exist, it was easier to bear the heavy guilt that weighed me down for my cowardly ways. I was just as bad as the Hewitts, for trying my hardest to ignore what they did and not trying to save any of their victims in order to save myself. I did despise myself for that. I was selfish because I was so afraid of dying. When my time came, I wanted it to be from natural causes. And I felt like I had barely lived, at only eighteen. That was the excuse I used to justify my cowardice. As I turned away, I head a low groan. I steeled myself against it and kept walking, but when I heard him call out to me for help my steps slowed. I knew it was a mistake, but I turned back to him. He had blue eyes, and they were so expressive, speaking volumes about all he had suffered because of the Hewitts.

"Untie me..." He pleaded urgently. "You've gotta untie me now, before that inbred hick comes back. I just want to go home."

I bit my lip as I studied him thoughtfully. "I want to help, I do. it's just...I...I'm scared...If they find out I let you go..." I put my basket down and paced around. "Let me just think about this..."

"You need time to think?" He snapped, glaring at me. "There's no fucking time to think. Just do it, untie me now unless you want to be the one to blame for my death."

He was right, as much as I did not want to admit it. If I did nothing, it would be worse than all the other times because I had seen him face to face and I had the power to free him and at least give him a chance to escape. I glanced back towards the house. If I was going to untie him, it would have to be now before someone came searching for me. I took a deep breath. "Alright. I'll do it, and for what it's worth I hope you do escape," It was difficult to untie the knots in the rope that had his wrists bound to the post. I could see that he must have had been struggling to get free earlier, as around his wrists were red marks. Finally I did manage to free him from the post.

He rubbed his arms for a few moments, then fixed his gaze on me, and there was such a change in his expression it made me feel afraid of him all of a sudden. There was a coldness to him that I had not seen before. I took a few steps back as he advanced towards me, a look of bitter contempt on his face and a malicious gleam in his eyes. "You're just as bad as those sick freaks. They killed my girlfriend, so I'm gonna kill them, and burn the house down after I'm done, but you? I can't believe you were thinking about leaving me there to die. You're gonna pay for that..."

I turned to run, but he tackled me down onto the grass before I could get more than a few steps away. His weight was heavy on top of me. I screamed and struggled as best as I could but he socked me in the face, sending a blaze of pain through my head, and it dazed me enough so that he could overpower me. I could no longer scream when he wrapped his hands around my throat and tightened his grip until I began to lose my air supply. It was strange, but as he was choking me all I could think of was Thomas. Partially because I knew if anyone could save me, it would be him but I also felt a keen sense of regret and loss that I did not understand. If I did die here, I knew Thomas would be the only one who would feel sad for me, mourn my passing. I had no family, my best friend and my boyfriend had been the two most important people in my lives, but they had betrayed me and now they were dead.

Thanks for reading :)