A/N:
This is the fourth installment of the October Rust saga. All stories can be read individually, but if you wanna start at the beginning, the stories are as follows:
October Rust
Loving you was like loving the dead
No forgiveness for her sins
For as long as Rusev could remember, he had been addicted to the scent of cinnamon. He didn't know what it was about that scent. It just turned him on tremendously. Unfortunately that scent had now become his nightmare.
For close to two years he had roamed the casinos in Vegas. Whenever he caught the slightest scent of cinnamon, he was intrigued. It didn't matter how the woman looked. If she had that scent, she was his target.
He'd watch them from afar, wait for them to leave, follow them until the right moment arrived. They never saw it coming. He attacked fast, and the last thing these women ever saw was his smiling face as he choked the life out of them with his bare hands. He inhaled their scent, cumming in his pants to the mixture of them dying and their sweet cinnamon scent.
The scent now scared him. Two weeks ago he had caught it again. A woman that reminded him of Jessica Rabbit had been playing the roulette. She had long, red hair and a long, red dress with a slit that went up dangerously high. When their eyes met across the room, he could see her eyes were piercing green. She had winked at him and then turned her attention back to the game.
He had kept his distance like he always did, waiting for her to be done for the night. He had followed behind at a safe distance but when he came outside, she was gone. He couldn't start running around asking for her. That would bring unwanted attention on him.
He came back the next night and she was there again. That same red hair and that same scent of cinnamon. This time she was in a pink, sparkling dress that looked similar to the red she had worn the night before. She had a style and he loved it. Once again their eyes had met and once again she had winked at him. A wink followed by a smirk. A cold and creepy smirk that sent shivers down his spine. Somehow he knew that woman was dangerous but that didn't stop him from wanting to end her like he had ended the others. He was big and strong. Surely he could take her.
She disappeared the same way again. He couldn't find her. He had gone back to his hotel room but he couldn't fall asleep. The scent of cinnamon slowly filled the room. He thought he was going crazy as he tumbled out of bed, trying to locate it. After nearly 30 minutes of panicking, he found that it came from the ventilation in the wall.
He had called downstairs to ask them about it. They had been baffled at first. They didn't spray cinnamon out through their ventilations. Finally he had been met with the mocking question of how much he had had to drink that night or if he had been up gambling for over 24 hours without taking a break. They deemed him insane in the moment. He had hung up, angry and confused.
From that day he started going to other casinos but the Jessica Rabbit lookalike followed. Watching, winking, smirking, waiting. She was stalking him. And each night that scent of cinnamon would get stronger no matter where he went. He would move hotels and the scent would follow. She would follow. He had gone from predator to prey and it scared him.
He tried to run and hide for two weeks but she followed his every move. Somehow she just knew where he went, and having to deal with her watching him from afar was enough for him to not go hunt out other cinnamon girls. After two long, hard weeks, he threw the towel in the ring and gave up. He was done with Vegas.
He packed his stuff that night and got out in his brand new car. One of those cars that almost ran itself. He loved how technology had been evolving over the years. Had he known what could be done with it, he would have bought an old, worn out car that still needed to be unlocked manually.
He hadn't been driving long when the radio started to scratch. He tried pressing the screen to find another station but all he got was that scratching noise. The scent of cinnamon started filling his car, and he felt panic rise again. He looked at the wunderbaum hanging from his rear view mirror. Someone had replaced his pine scented one with a cinnamon scented one. He pulled it down angrily and at the same time the radio went dead silent. No more scratching. And then a female voice came through.
"Hello, Rusev," she said.
"Who are you?" He asked.
"October," she answered. "Although you like to call me Jessica Rabbit. I'm wearing that red dress again today. You liked that one, didn't you?"
He pressed his foot on the brake but the car didn't stop. It kept running on its own. He tried the handle but the car door was locked. He couldn't get out. He was trapped in his car and it started moving faster.
"Why are you doing this to me?" He asked.
"For the same reason you did it to all those women," she answered. "Because I can. Because I want to. Because the world will be so much better without you."
"Let me out, please," he begged.
"Goodbye, Rusev," she said.
The car sped towards the harbor. He started banging on the side window but it didn't break. And then the car flew the short distance through the air as it left the harbor. The splash was loud when he landed in the water. The car was sinking fast and he couldn't get out. Water started pouring in from all around him. He reached for his phone but somehow he couldn't unlock it. The password had been changed. The radio started scratching again and small bits of a song came through the noise.
"...be happy... cinnamon girl..."
October sat in her own car watching it all on her tablet. She had hacked Rusev's car and controlled it. Now she was watching him die. His head was under water when the screen went black. Even a high technological car like his could only take a certain amount of water before everything died. It was alright. Rusev had died with the car.
She rolled her shoulders and stretched her back. She had quite the drive ahead of her. She pulled off the red wig, took a look in the rear view mirror, and ruffled her short, black hair. Another job well done. It would look like a car malfunctioning, and unfortunately a man had died because of it. It wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last time. Everyone knew technology could never be fully trusted. No one had seen the red haired Jessica Rabbit lookalike together with Rusev. No one knew about October Rust. October Rust didn't exist.
A/N:
I know "Cinnamon Girl" is a Neil Young cover but it was Type O Negative's version that inspired this story. October Rust is a product inspired by their music.