Disclaimer : I own nothing.
Foreword : There was a time in my life two years ago when I was a strange 16 year old - At the same time I found the Hellraiser series and instantly fell in love with it, so I developed a rather large interest and infatuation with it. This story was mostly written two years ago, but was largely forgotten until recently. To commemorate Halloween and my two year anniversary with the series, I am posting it finally.
Oh My Sweet Child
A happy start a sad, sad ending.
It was a shame. He could remember the life he had lived before his rebirth - oh how he remembered the pleasures, the true pleasures, of heaven and earth. He could recall the many fingers and lips and warm soft bodies of women, hookers, lovers and even his late wife. The rhythm of love making heightened by the pangs of desire, the growing climax, the orgasms that shook his world. He could remember the feeling of opium sticking in his throat and lungs, the trance coming to him in which he had felt and seen such things that he reveled in. He laid in those opium dreams for hours, the pleasure of it washing over him. He remembered how he would steal from the pharmacist, the cocaine pills he popped nonstop, the high sensation coming and then numbing any pain he had felt.
Those were good days.
And then the war had came, and stripped him of any happiness that lived in his soul. He was torn apart from his substances and sexual adventures and thrust into the trench warfare life. it killed him inside. The shells going off, the blood, the never ending cycle of death. He saw friends die, he saw his own family die. and then he got the news, back home, his wife had died from a particularly nasty pneumonia.
He would've given anything to feel like he did in those golden days. Perhaps that's what led him to deserting the army.
He ran to Africa, ran as far away from the war as he could, searching for something to bring him back to life.
And he found it.
"What's you pleasure, sir?"
He didn't care, just wanted something to take his mind off the pain.
He would come to curse that day.
The confusion those first torturous moments, the voice in his head,
"We'll make a good example of you, we have such sights to show you."
Leviathan and his wicked ways.
The pain of the cuts and nails in his head, the neverending whip of the chains. And then it ended abruptly, and he was a changed man. in fact, no longer a man, but a thing. Just an evil entity unto itself.
The first days, maybe even months, or perhaps it was only hours, he could recall huddling in a corner, sobbing, tears flowing with blood.
"Do not cry, it is a waste of good suffering, my son."
Leviathan had spared him, had made him a fruit of his all encompasing misery.
That was when it turned around, when he realized that he was favored by one of the highest universal beings. He could do something. He could make himself... again.
But now, oh now he sits in his chambers and reminisces. his old life is gone, gone forever, and he's a fragment of a human.
And now, he looks at her, the only one to feel his closeness. Perhaps he never got close to anyone, anything, in his rebirth, but the icy heart inside his chest would thump whenever she was to come around.
His lover, his concubine, his next cenobite.
Kirsty, he would give the world to her, and only her.
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"It is your flesh I wish to experience, Kirsty, not your skillfill bargaining."
Her flesh seemed so tempting, so soft and fragile. His dead fingers longed to stroke her neck as much as they wanted to slice it open. He could cut her and slice her, but not to the point of no return.
They all screamed. They screamed in agony, and begged him to stop.
She was going to scream in ecstasy, and beg him to continue his sweet torture. He would have nothing but that.
Xipe Topec looked into her eyes, fear but a strange hope in them. His body burned for the first time in centuries, the ache of ripping her apart coursing through his veins. It wouldn't be hard, to just enter without warning or consent. It would pain her then most certainly, the innocent young woman she was. In the beginning he could get his pleasure, full knowing he had to oblige to her's.
In no time she would be in her own realm of pleasure, her legs wrapping around his waist, her arms encircling his neck, "More.."
No one had ever asked him for more, and the sheer thought of her entwined with him in his chamber sent chills of warmth down his nerves.
"What do you want from me?! It was all a mistake! I didn't mean to open the box!"
A few strays tears fell onto her cheeks. Xipe Topec looked at his comrades, and signaled for them to leave. They did, somewhat promptly and without fight as usual, and he was alone with his damsel in distress. How can one be the villain and hero at one time?
He came towards her, and a small quiver of fear was visible to him. As his hands gripped the sides of her face he felt her tense, but then she relaxed at the feel of his tongue travelling up her cheek.
"Do not cry, child, it is a waste..."
She looked at him warily, the tears gone, replaced with suspicion.
"Are you going to kill me?"
He gave a chuckle, "Kill you? No, my child, I have much to show you."
His hand grabbed hers, and he was surprised at the heat of it. He led her through a doorway, and down a candle lit hallway. To his chambers they walked, and he felt her apprehension and fear growing more and more.
"Do not fear child, to fear is to die."
His chamber was cold and silent, and suddenly unappealing to him. He supposed this was because it did not appeal to his lover, so why should it to him? But he brushed away such trivial thoughts as the door behind them shut and locked and their fate was sealed.
Kirsty's eyes snapped open wide, "What are you going to do?!"
He chose to say nothing but in one swift moment knocked her to the floor, his larger frame pinning her. She gasped for air and stared in horror as he began to undress her, his cold hands running accross her heated flesh. His mouth clamped down on a newly exposed nipple as he thumbed the other. De stopped his frustrations to speak, "Your flesh would be so very beautiful if it were scarred and bruised... nothing quite like mine, but just traces..."
Her scream was due to his teeth biting down on her breast, leaving a bleeding bite mark. And that would scar.
His nails trailed down her ribs leaving crimson stripes, and his lips sucked at the flesh on her neck until small bruises covered the skin on her neck and her whole upper body.
Now her tears fell again, and he stopped his light torture.
"Remember what I said, dear." he sat up, now kneeling between her legs, "Besides, pleasures await you."
Her eyes were closed when he entered her, the time she least expected it. This time she cried out loud enough for half of hell to hear, his demon member suddenly embedded in a deep place she had never known existed.
"Oh God.." she moaned, her head arching back onto the stone floor.
The motions were slow and deliberate, and he delighted in her cries of pain as he pushed in and out. The blood from her virgin body spilled onto him and an exploring finger dipped into it, bringing it to his lips to taste. It was beautiful.
He wasn't sure when the thrusts of pain became those of pleasure, but her cries became longer, more passionate, her back arching, her young body pressing against his.
How he adored this girl, her unbreakable spirit that he wished so strongly to shatter. To shatter her and collect all the glass pieces sent him over the edge, now trying to dig his fingers and nails into her shoulders.
They were both nearing their climax, and his instinct to rip was finding itself harder and harder to conceal. He pounded her as hard as he could, and the coos soon turned into echoing sobs, as his hand reached to her head. He lifted her up and bashed her skull on the ground, which was met with her scream, and whimpers as a flow of blood came from the back of her head.
Moving away from her he was still not satisfied with either pleasure or pain. And obviously she wasn't either.
Disgust suddenly overtook him.
"Get up!" he yelled, pulling at the broken girl's arm.
She whimpered again, holding her cracked head, now standing on shaky feet.
He summoned the chains, and they came, cold and brutal, to wrap around her frame. She stood tied to herself in the middle of the room, weeping.
"You stay here."
And he left, and all was quiet in hell again.
Kirsty got helped out that day. The mute had found her bound and gagged, and released her from the chains. Together they tried to flee hell, and barely escaped. That day kirsty helped out him too, made him face his past.
Years went on and the girls were both regarded as crazy - but it was the past and Kirsty had to move on.
Although she would never forget the man with his pierced face, and what they did.
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She had loved Trevor in the beginning. He was kind, handsome, and almost never asked about her past.
He never intruded on how she got her money, or the strange scars on her skin, or that lost year in an insane asylum.
For four years they shared their lives, they were married, and even at one point planned for a family. Kirsty thought for once she finally had what she had wanted for so long after the incident, a normal life.
That was at least, until Trevor began acting strangely.
The thoughts of that he was cheating couldn't keep themselves out of her head. Yet she knew she was right.
How much longer could she take sitting in their run down apartment knowing he was fucking the neighbors? His boss?
Strange, she couldn't get a single man in her life that treated her right, at least not since her father. But he was required to care for her, and perhaps if he hadn't, he might have treated her like shit too.
Her daydreams were usually of what could have happened had her father not died. He could have seen her grow up, go to college, get married, be there now for her to fall back on. Maybe the problem was before his death, and the wondering of what could have happened if they hadn't moved into that house, hadn't married Julia. But it was no use, the wondering just made her angry, and brought back the images in her head of him.
Pinhead. He'd connected to her the first time they met. She felt that, when he looked into her eyes he'd put a mark on her soul, a brand almost, and it meant that she belonged to him. Even though years went by, she could feel his hold on her. He wanted her flesh.
Well, she would be damned if he ever laid a hand (or chain or hook) on her again. At that point she would look down at the scars on her body and wail, the sad thing was, it happened every night.
Trevor never dared go near her when she had her time in the bathroom. Sometimes he heard her crying and was tempted to, but knew he shouldn't.
Once she had been happy. But that had all been stripped from her.
Tonight however was different, and she forced the memories out of her head.
It was her birthday, and the big 3-0 was here. Tonight she could only be happiness and joy with her husband, after all, fourteen years ago she didn't think she would survive. And now she had made it to 30.
The video camera is set up and Travor is laughing, grinning, overly happy.
Her heart stops and breaks simultaneously as he hands her the box.
Her lover has called her back to him.
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Things change in one's life. Sometimes the change is so drastic, if you were to go back in time you'd never guess what the future had in store.
Her husband was dead, dead as her father and uncle. No man in her life ever stayed there long.
Except him. She could rely on him.
The two looked upon each other, silent. She had since grown older, and he could see it. Deep inside, though, he knew she was still that scared, innocent 16 year old.
"Kirsty, join me?"
Without hesitation she replied, "Yes."
It hurt all right. She tried to enjoy the pain as skin was peeled back and new flesh exposed. For once she was existing.
Renewed she met her lover, now bald and pale skinned, but still beautiful.
He took her hand, leading her through hell.
Since the day they met they had become a part of each other. Now, they fulfilled their destinies, as one, as two of a kind.
She was his forever.
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Thanks for reading. Hope you liked it. Reviews always appreciated.
Ha, as a little anecdote, once I was on a haunted hayride some number of years ago, and there was a Hellraiser stop. It involved Pinhead and a victim in a 'torture chair'. Someone yelled, "You're Pinhead!" and the actor so cleverly responded "I know who I am, who are you?" I still lol to this day. Just felt like sharing.