Umm. Hey, you guys. So, I've had an idea for a follow-up piece to Much Like Suffocating and How Do You Sleep? for awhile, so, like, here it is. I have to warn you that this first chapter isn't for the faint of heart. Trigger warning for rape (subtext, you guys, subtext) and violence.

All characters are property of SNK. Also, King's name is (obviously) not canon; I'll retcon if it's ever revealed.

Onward~

King couldn't move or breathe. She was pinned under a man she had never seen before until earlier that afternoon, his weight and his hand around her throat keeping her down against the solid mattress. She only knew two things about him: the first was that he was sent after her by her former employer, Mr. Big, for something she had done years ago, before she left Southtown's seedy underworld. The second was that he wanted to hurt her as badly as possible.

And goddamn was he doing a fantastic job.

King was battered, bleeding, and broken. Frustrated and desperate, she tried to use shaking hands to push the man away, but it was no use; he was too heavy and she was too light-headed and weak anyway. She welcomed the idea of losing consciousness; being awake for this was too much. If she could just pass out, then maybe it would somehow be more bearable.

Suddenly the man loosened his grip on King's neck; she let out a strangled gasp as she drew in as much air as she could.

"Tell me something, Cécile." He taunted King by using her real name, which he had found on her driver's license. "En français!"
"Fou moi… la paix...!" King struggled to get the words out.
"Not what I wanted to hear!" The man squeezed King's neck again, harder this time. "We'll try again in a minute!"

A plethora of thoughts ran through King's mind: some were directly related to what she was experiencing (how could this happen?!) while some were so far out of left field that she could barely even grasp them (she should have bought more yogurt at the store the other day). King opened her eyes, which she had been squeezing shut; everything looked hazy and discoloured. Her vision was slightly blurred; she wasn't sure if it was from her head injury or her tears. In all likelihood it was probably both. Nevertheless, she accidentally made eye contact with her attacker, which made her feel like she was going to throw up. Again.

"Let's try this again, Cécile."

The man released some of the pressure on King's throat: she was quickly overcome by a coughing fit that made everything hurt more than it already did.

"Tell me something a little nicer this time."
"Va... te faire... foutre - !"
"Interesting choice of words."

King cried out as her air supply was violently cut off yet again.

On and on it went, a sick loop with no end in sight.

As always, I have some notes:

* Fou moi la paix means "leave me alone" but the meaning is slightly more vulgar. This info comes from a native French speaker, who was nice enough to help me out.
* Va te faire foutre means "go fuck yourself"

I promise the rest isn't this upsetting, so, tune in next time? As always, let me know what's up. Cheers!