I Should Get A Raise

I took a deep gulp of orange soda after snuffing out my last cigarette. I hate the nasty habit but after Travis disappeared... some times it's the only thing to calm my nerves. Just like now, when I inhaled half my pack-what would usually last me more than a week-in the last couple hours. I have some reason to be nervous tonight, the Chief put me on night watch for any kidnappings.

I'm essentially babysitting a rookie with a nasty streak a mile wide and a chubby fetish gross enough to get me queasy. I don't know why the hell Charlie thought this was a good punishment, he could have ordered me to jump in a vat of acid for the same effect and half the effort. Sniffing indigently, I toss my empty can into the trash before changing so I don't smell like I walked out of a forest fire.

My civi clothes are loose and comfortable, a baggy flannel and some cute jeans that so happened to be the only clean ones in the hamper. I glance at my running sneakers and slip them on for comfort and mobility. Hate to lose someone just because I tripped over my two left feet. I use a waist holster and strap my standard issue to my back along with my badge. If we happen to apprehend a kidnapping like we are sent to do-unlikely, the reason this is a punishment is because it's a tedious waste of time-we need to have all bases covered so the mother fucker can't try to weasel out of a life sentence.

David, my ward of the evening, chose that moment to lean on the horn and I have to bite my tongue. I take a lingering look into the mirror beside the door to check that I'm presentable, red-brown hair brushed into the neat bob I don't usually wear, straightened so it's easier to push into a ponytail like I will probably do later. Teeth brushed, eye boogies out of my almost liquid black eyes, lingering on the small number of fine lines from stress and age around them. At least they are smile lines.

I walk out and flip my driver off before locking the stubborn door. I really need to get Diana over here to fix that and maybe the drippy bathroom faucet if she could give me a "pitiful customer" discount. Ever since Travis disappeared I could barely make the bills let alone keep up with maintenance. But I can't bear to part with the rickety old girl and move into one of those dreary new apartment complexes near our tiny down town area. It's were we moved in after the wedding. Pressing lips to the cold plain wedding ring still on my finger I step into the modern Subaru.

Grimacing I look back at my own 1969 Ford Mustang, it's glossy black paint calling me away from the little silver bitch I just stepped into. But Chief specifically said inconspicuous and Elvira was the furthest thing from it. Travis insisted it's name was Kevin Bacon and I banned him from any future baby naming that instance. David flashes a smarmy grin and leered at my shapely thighs in the tight pants that I am too proud and old to admit are skinny jeans. A 30 year old married woman should probably avoid the style, but even I have to admit they make my legs look damn good. I give him a weak smile and look ahead. I'm not planning to see shit but I am vigilant in the tuneless cab while David chatted me up.

He's an ok kid, smart as hell and good around a gun, and if it wasn't for his overly sexual comments he'd make to the others about me and my general discomfort for his seeming fetish of my and a couple other paper jockeys bodies, I might be tempted to take his offer for "comfort sex". But he doesn't mention my husband at least, or even say that this was a waste of time despite me already knowing that. I appreciate it. The small city was combed by us and the three other cars within a few hours, the radio silent without any tips. It buzzed to life near midnight, with Dorthy on the other side.

"Greene, I need you guys to head to the county over."

Sighing through my nose I pick up the radio and push the button on the side.

"What's going on there? It's out of city limits."

"They're short staffed tonight and need someone to take a look at a minor tip. Woman saw a strange blue Cadillac skulking around the outskirts of town and then head into the backroads after night fell. They just need it checked and I know you guys aren't going to find anything."

I snort and tell her I copy, hanging up and leaning back as David makes the interstate turn. I hand him an energy drink from the stash in the back with a grimace of disgust when he yawned. The dude chugs them down like water. Surprised he hasn't had heart failure despite being 23. The half hour drive was filled with soft rock and silence, already exhausting our small talk options a few hours ago. Dorthy called in to make sure we got there and know where we're going, then radio silence on our end.

The back road was dusty and long with no end in sight, driving deeper south and maybe into the wetlands. Turning the high lights on in the oppressive forest that pushes back on us with every mile.

"Fuck, Greene do ya think the guys still even here?"

I shrug helplessly, nose deep in the energy drink I finally gave in and swigged back.

"I'll go fer a half hour then I'm turning. We might even be on some private drive at this point."

I give him a wan smile and tell Dorthy. We didn't make it the last half hour. Within 20 minutes we crossed a smaller path that was perfect for hiding a car. It slammed into the drivers side with train like force and my scream was cut off when my cranium made sickening contact with the window.

I came to quickly, the clock only passed by 2 minutes. Wincing at the pain my my shoulder and neck I check the side of my head. A small bump, I might have just passed out from whip lash or something. I look over to see if David is ok only to be met with empty seat.

"Quincy? David where are you?"

I look in front and my eyes finally adjust. There's a person I'm not sure how I could have missed, painfully skinny with baggy clothes hanging off his frame. Whoever it is has a hood up and faced away with his legs spread shoulder width. Almost like a crappy rap album cover. His shoulders jump with silent laughter and I look at his hands to see a white knuckle grip on a wrench in his right hand. There's a strange glint on it and I lean up in my seat to look at the ground. David lays splayed and an obvious splotch of blood on his temple. Taking a deep breath I quickly check to see if my door was pinned and slowly opened it, gun unholstered and loaded. I take a deep breath and square my shoulders, aiming at the man.

"Sir, I am Officer Greene, I need you to put your hands up and drop the wrench."

I flash my badge but he doesn't turn around. His head slowly looks over his shoulder and I could see the hooked outline of a large nose and prominent brows. I can't tell if it's scruff or shadow covering his cheek.

"Sir, please raise your arms above your head and slowly turn around."

He raised his arms alright. Only to bring the wrench violently down onto Davids back again and again. My final warning sounded seconds before my gun cracked through the air, the bullet burying itself into the back of his thigh. The shot was clean and straight. I couldn't get a better one. And yet, instead of being knocked to his ass, he stumbles and whips his head around to fully face me, pale face looking blank in the high lights of the car. The only color I could make out on his face is the blue lightning trapped in his eyes, surrounded by the deep bruises of sleepless nights.

My heart stuttered when he stepped towards me, teeth glistening in his wide smile and in my minds eye I can see the deadly smile of a xenomorph from Aliens. Unfortunately I am not the goddess Ripley and I panic when he starts moving faster and the blood on his wrench glistens in the LED lights. I take another shot at his other leg and this time he didn't even stumble. Just laughed high and loud into the empty air.

The hair on the back of my neck and my arms stand on end and as he descends on me. I pray to whatever god is listening and aim for his heart. It burst in a spray of blood that coated half my face, the hot coppery liquid getting in my mouth. Immediately turning I spit out the mouthful of possibly disease ridden blood and stand on shakey legs, pushing the surprisingly heavy body off. I couldn't even get a good look at him and I refuse to now.

He isn't the first man I was forced to kill, 8 years on the force giving me my experience. The first was a woman coming at her 10 year old son with a rifle, strung out on bath salts she bled out on the pavement as I tried to stop the child's own bleeding and save his arm, giving up on the hand that was half shredded. He lost three fingers and an abusive shit stain of a mother, but not his life.

The second was a man grunting on top of a crying woman. When he didn't move I tried to subdue him but it devolved from there, the pot bellied hog somehow over powering me and holding me down, rubbing my body with his own hairy sweat. I was able to put the gun to his head before he slammed inside me bone dry and I don't think I can ever forget the feeling of brain matter and bone shards spread across my face, soaking my entire top half with gore. The mandated therapy after that was not fun.

My third kill might have been our kidnaper. I didn't feel guilt in the other two, they were going to get some light sentences from our completely biased judge. This time the many families, me included, won't be given the satisfaction of seeing the sick fuck behind federal bars. I kneel beside Davids body and feel the back of his head. A bump the size of a goose egg meets my hand and I wince in sympathy. If he's out he might have brain damage so I don't move him and make a wide berth around the fallen psycho to get in contact with the precinct.

I don't even make it to the door when I heard the breathy laughter. My blood freezes and suddenly my world became crisp and clear. Adrenaline. I slowly turn to see the man sitting up, chest and lower face a mess of bright red that looks unrealistically vivid against his snowy skin. I can't look away from his bright wild eyes that caught me.

"Daaamn girly. Yer a fuckin' good shot!"

He burst out in a keel of laughter before rolling up. His distinctive accent is heavy, running smoothly with the pitch of his voice. One word it's high and the other it's low like a growl. He didn't even stumble when he walked over to me. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. No matter how loudly my mind screamed I was rooted and reconsidering my lack of religion because this man is a demon. He can't be anything but! I shot him three times, once in the heart, if he's not dead he shouldn't be able to move let alone walk. The lanky man loomed over my modest height with a wicked smirk painted red. I flinch when I realized the high pitched sound in my ear was my own pathetic keening.

Trying to shake out of it I lift my hand and aim my gun to his head, pulling the trigger with a numb finger. I watch the poetry of his movement in slow motion, bullet imbedded in the middle of his forehead flinging it back with the force. A spray of blood and brain arch perfectly from the wound and all the while I am unblinking and unmoving. When he stumbles back down I fall to my knees and start gasping, feeding my oxygen starved lungs.

Adrenaline courses though my veins and my muscles tense in preparation of sprinting away. Again, I try to get to the car, crab walking backwards until I hit the dented door with my back. Fumbling hands rip it open and I pour myself inside, wildly looking for the police radio on the dash. With a sinking heart, I look down and see it on the floor of the car, the casing shattered and the dials popped. Still I try to get something, anything, other than silence.

"Damnit!"

I roar and hit the dash, my anger quickly running into fear when I turn my head to see the shrouded body of the monster gone.

*Bang*

I jump and whip my head around to see the wide sickly eyes of the man on the passenger side. There's a quickly closing hole in his forehead, the blood mostly wiped away on the sleeve of his dark green hoody. I can see his face more clearly now in the fallout light instead of the annoyingly pure white glow that burns my eyes. Painfully skinny, yes, but with a face that isn't plain or ugly. Not pretty either. I'm not sure what to make of him. He has a huge nose and black circles but his bone structure is gorgeous. Gulping as the pretty cheekbones sharpen his face something sinister I try and edge from the car, when he tore open the door and dragged me out the other side by my arm. He drops me on the ground, on my hands and knees while he tuted over my body.

"Now tha' was jus' rude."

He grabbed me by my short pony tail and drew me up to my feet, my scalp screaming at the treatment. His rough cheek rubs against mine, lips pressed to my ear. I can't tell what's worse, the itch of his scruff or the stickiness of his blood.

"Ah gotta game fer ya, mah little piggy."

I try and shove back but he growls like a freaking animal and yanks my hair like a rope.

"Like ah said, ah got a game. You,"-he poked my chest and chuckled breathlessly-"run as far and fast as ya cahn. Ah'll even give ya a head start. Get tah a person befer I get ya, an' you win!"

He rubbed his cheek harder against me, like a cat begging for attention. I'm almost too afraid to ask.

"If I lose?"

He bites my ear and his free hand reaches down to grab a generous handful of ass.

"Yer mah new toy."

He dropped me and loomed while I tried to get my bearings on the forest floor. He crouched on his ridiculously long legs and flicked my forehead, bringing me out of my daze.

"Tick-tock, Miss Cop. Run, befer the big bad wolf gets ya."

I scrambled up and turned to the way we came, sprinting away like a mad woman, chased by his high pitched laughter into the night. I ran and ran on the dusty road, lungs seizing from the work after 15 or 20 minutes of straight out adrenaline fueled sprinting, sides cramping so hard it hurt to move. Deciding to take a small break I lean against a towering cypress to catch my breath. Just a few seconds then I think I'll run into the forest. It might keep him off my tail for a good hour.

I sigh when I get my breathing under control, hand pinching the roll of fat in my stomach to keep me present. With a spur of determination I vow to get the weight off if I survive, depressed binge eating wasting my body and shooting me from a size 6 to a size 16 in only a couple years. I feel like one of those stereotypical fat girl cops. Huge ass and hips and unhelpfully chubby. Travis would be so ashamed. Taking a deep breath I stand straight and run into the forest line, tripping some but zig zagging to hopefully throw him off, sacrificing speed for hiding.

Lucas was still grinning long after the cop had disappeared over the short horizon, anticipating all the fun he could have with her. Whistling a disgustingly happy tune he loads up the man, tossing him uncaringly into the trunk after tying him expertly in rope. Not truly caring if he suffocates or dies of heat stroke Lucas immediately shuts he lid. It's no real trouble hooking up and dragging the wrecked car further in the woods, pushing the ruined frame into the small lake at the end of the dirt road along with the makeshift snow plow he disconnected from his poor baby.

He sits on the hood of the Cadillac to wait, fishing a warm coke from the back. Like he promised he gave the woman a good head start, drinking the soda and playing around on an obsolete iPhone. When a half hour passed he smiled like the devil himself and stretched his lanky frame up. Time to get his prize.

My stomach and chest were in knots of agony, having sprinted for nearly an hour. I knew I was going the right general direction but don't dare get close to the tree line. If I can see the road that means he can see me. Like a spooked animal, whenever I see a shadow looking like a human behind me I sprint forward. The shapes stop being vague and I clearly see his skin glow in the moon behind me. He hollers and calls for me like a lost puppy in the distance. He's driving me away from the road.

I didn't count on him being a seasoned hunter. Chasing me like a true pursuit predator, finding me every time I stop to rest every 20 minutes, although my cracked watch is probably a few minutes off. I made a point to stay on roots and rocks when I can and never through straight grass. I stayed low and quiet when my panic ran out, leaving me stressed and full of hot adrenaline. Still, he found me! At night! In a forest so over grown I can barely see the ground except for the random spots of filtered moonlight!

He finally seemed to get sick of our hours of fun, good for the whole fucking family, and finally caught up. I hide best I could and bit my knuckle to muffle my sobs. I'm so strung out I could barely even think about David when my lungs feel like their constantly seizing and I might actually have a heart attack. It reminds me of that mandatory history class in college. How we evolved to pursue other animals, how we are evolutionarily made to walk long distances without getting tired and track the animals until they were simply too exhausted to move or died of fear. It's why dogs are our perfect companion.

"Yoo hoo!"

I scream and kick at the shadow that popped into the space of my nest of tree roots. I felt the jarring contact of his face and he fell back with a slurred curse. I jumped out of my hiding spot like a jack rabbit on crack, scrambling away on my hands and knees before I can get on my feet where I made a mad and useless dash away from my personal predator. Don't make it far, obviously, before he snatched me around the waist. I felt the sharp pain of his arm digging deeply into my stomach and ribs from the momentum of my body moving forward. He hissed and lifted me up off my feet. I can't even think of how he could stop my heavy body let alone lift me without any obvious straining. He's inhuman, and I leave it at that.

"Gawddamn it! Stay still woman!"

I fight harder against the stiff body holding me up until he cursed and wrapped an arm around my neck. It was made of bone and pure wiry muscle but he shouldn't be so strong. Gagging, and trying to gasp past the steel bar on my esophagus, my hands wildly reach behind me. My nails dug into his skin, drawing streaks of blood, but my strength failed me. I couldn't do anymore that pitifully push against his face and gape while my sight slowly shut down. My voiceless begs for air were unmet and I could see nothing but black.

The woman slid to the ground with a muffled thump into the leaf litter. Crouching down, Lucas blows gently in her face, watching in fascination when she gasped and jerked but didn't wake up. For good measure he flips the smaller wrench he brought with him and brings it down on her temple. Lightly in comparison to the possibly brain dead partner. She'll be knocked out for the next hour or so. Lucas pauses, licking over his glistening teeth as he stares at the plump piece of ass barely breathing on the forest floor.

He looks away, adjusted his dick before leaning down, and slung her over his shoulder after making sure her heart was strong and beating. He runs a hooked nose over the seam of her jeans while walking causally to his abandoned car, the thin fabric the only thing between him and some sweet smelling hip. She smells floral and fruity from her soaps but under it he can greedily inhale the clean soft smell of her unique body odor that he can't get enough of. Even the earthly musk of sweat smells good and-after adjusting her leg-he can smell the sharp tang of her pussy. Maybe all the adrenaline turned her on.

Grinning, he takes a mouthful of thigh and bites, leaving a red indent of his teeth before swaggering to his parked car. She didn't even flinch when he loaded her into the back seat, hands and legs zip tied and covered with his destroyed hoody. With a wicked sense of irony he uses her cuffs to latch her hands to the door and leaves her there, removing her socks and shoes as a last second thought and tossing them in the back with the tool. She won't get far if she does manage to escape. He drives the car out of the back woods, slowly in case she rolls over and dislocates her shoulder. That would ruin the fun. He took a short way that reached outside of the town and onto the highway.

The road was vast and empty this night, the stretch between towns so wide it feels like eternity sometimes. Especially when he doesn't turn on any music in fear of waking her up too early. It took an hour of driving, occasionally looking at the road to make sure he doesn't drive off the aged asphalt, eyes mostly in the mirror to watch the rousing woman. She winced and blinked awake slowly as he gradually sped up, knowing she won't get tossed off the seat.

"Fuuuuck."

Lucas smiled when he heard her curse for the first time. Hopefully he'll be changing that in a few hours. He's always liked the thought of a mouthy bitch in bed.

"Moooornin' sweet cheeks."

He waited out her screaming and thrashing until she quieted down, clearly exhausted from the long night and chase of her life.

"Ya gonna keep tha' up or are ya going to behave enough to sit up front?"

"Where's David?"

He jerked a boney thumb behind him to the trunk without more explanation, watching the front bumper eat up the road as he now speeds up. 70, 80, 90 and pushing it, engine grumbling like an angry beast. He waited, breathless, for her answer or second wind of screaming. On one hand the sweet thing would be in arms reach, on another he could see what she looks like with a gag on.

"Ok."

He slammed on the breaks and from her scream she wasn't expecting him to just suddenly stop in the middle of the road. Her tied legs slam into the back of the drivers seat to try and stay in place. He didn't seem to notice the hard thump, immediately stepping out and opening the door at her feet. Reaching over her wasn't difficult but her trembling pouty lip and wide doe eyes sure as hell made it difficult to get off. Free of the cuffs, Moria immediately tries to rabbit punch him. Quick as lightning he catches her small fists and cracks his own against her chin. He could distinctly hear the clank of teeth and wonders if she bit her tongue. She's dazed but he leans down, body lengthened against hers until it was covered, and hisses in her ear.

"Try that ah-fucking-gain and yer loosing yer arms."

He wouldn't mutilate her so badly but maybe a broken finger or two would get the message across. She nodded, believing his bluff completely. He ignored the twinge in his chest that she'd believe he could do that to her and heaved her into his arms, awkwardly backing up while dragging her out with him.

"Stay good an' you'll lose the ties. Or I could just toss ya in the back with dumb ass."

He carried her to passenger side and deposited her onto it, running 'round to start the car again. The car squeals off, pushing at 70 and higher. Moria held onto the door handle for dear life, face draining of color as he whooped and hollered like a hillbilly.

Night passed quickly when she saw her forgotten gun in his lap. Relaxing into the aged leather of the classic muscle car she just concentrates on anything else. The blast of heat against her face, tightening her shin. The smell of hot leather and car interior, stale greasy cheeseburgers, and the purely guy smell without the noxious chemical of cologne. Moria has always had a sensitive nose and never liked the dizzy inducing smells of perfumes.

It's only half an hour and a rising sun before she finally feels the pull of sleep, concerned of the head wound only long enough to remember David in the trunk. Too exhausted to ask of his wellbeing she curls up and falls into a natural sleep. She woke up again to afternoon sun and a brown lunch bag tossed into her lap. Noticing her limbs are untied she snatches it and horks down the cheeseburger and onion rings with a hunger of a starved dog. Lucas is leaning on her door, arms crossed on the top and head under them so he can lean in the open window, legs back and crossed over each other.

It causes his shirt and new black hoody to ride up, showing her a glimpse of her own gun in the waistband of his tan pants. Also a trail of hair on a hard expanse of stomach but that's neither here nor there. She looks up and almost chokes on her mouthful of food. Not at his suspicious raised brow or his weirdly attractive features now fully revealed in the sunlight, but at the giant pair of cheap sunglasses pushed over the bump of his nose. He wiggles his brows and gets up to go to his side, taking the long way so he can slam on the now noisy trunk. Seems like David woke up, a miracle in itself.

Swallowing, Moria takes a look around to see the abandoned parking lot of a road side Diner/gas station with a fully packed casino across the street. Nothing else for miles around. He climbed into the drivers side and started the car, pushing his hood back. Moria started again, not expecting to see a receded hair line and slightly sparse blond hair. Maybe a little older than she first thought? Or maybe heredity? Her own father started going completely bald at 20 himself.

"I'm not getting away, am I?"

His thinner lips lift into a knowing smile.

"Nope."

The "P" popped around a teasing mouth and she gave in too easily to the truth than she'd want to. With the immediate worry of her recent abduction her other concerns melted away. No bills to pay, no friends and family to try and assure she's ok, no stressful job that she's not even sure she wants anymore, and not even the waning hope of finding her husband and the guilty thought of finding some one else.

It's a disturbing thought so, as he pushes the gas, she pops the door and rolls out as he tries to squeal away, rolling as her back hits gravel. The car stops and so does her heart. Standing on bare feet she runs for the bar. If anyone has the firepower to keep him off her, it's a casino full of drunk and armed red necks. The car door slams with a scream of rage and she pushes away the pain of sharp rocks digging into the tender skin of her soles. Just a little longer, a few more feet! She can already hear the loud beat of rock music and the happy chatter of people when Lucas caught up and slapped a hand over her widening mouth before she could scream for help.

"Move it!"

When she continued to to struggle he dragged her away. The elderly waitress in the diner appears in the window of her restaurant, face ravaged by age and vicious scarring. She turned away when she saw what was happening and Moria's stomach sank. Her captor chuckled against her ear while dragged her to the passenger side.

"Louis is a fuckin' gift, she is."

Moria began to scream in the clammy and callused palm, jarred only when he literally tossed her into the still open door falling down on top of her when her kicks took out his legs. With the stick shift in her back and a psycho between her legs Moria finally breaks down and cries. The man jerks back like he was punched, in face of her hysterical tears.

Moria never liked scary or stressful situations. It's why her family was so surprised when she decided to go into law enforcement. In her moment of youthful idealism she imagined heroism and becoming a murder detective, not the mind numbing boredom in between stress and horror of the job. Crack houses full of naked, starving children. Uncountable rapes. Horrific hate crimes. It's worn down her optimism and will to even go to work. Her uniform was a type of mask and without it she feels naked and hopeless.

"P-please, fuck, I just want tah live!"

The man above her was clearly unsettled by her crying and tried to awkwardly soothe her, sitting her up and crouching between her legs out side the car as a large palm runs up and down her back and the other buried in her leaf covered hair. A laugh bubbles out of her at the ridiculous situation. He takes the hand from her hair and opens the glove compartment.

"Ya done eating?"

She nods shakily and tries shying away but not fast enough. He takes out a small syringe and jabs it high in her neck.

"Almost home sweet cheeks. Don' worry, it's just a game."

His almost comforting smile widens into an insane smirk, watching the woman quickly droop, slurring curses at him like Marine.

"Ah promise you won' die today. If that's anything."

It's sickly sweet and mocking. She won't die but it's possible she might want to. She made a sound like a laugh and a sob before slumping forward.