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If somebody ever asked me what was the most traumatizing experience in my life; then I would have probably said something casual or normal for a woman; like the time I accidently entered the boy's locker room and saw what I shouldn't have, or swallowed a bug while yawning, or perhaps even the time it was my turn for cleaning duty in the bathrooms of my old high school.

But I never thought I would bury dead bodies on my yard.

Nope, never.

The sight, the smell, and even the sensation. It was all disgusting, filthy. I couldn't handle it, I couldn't stand it any longer, it was all too much for me and my brain didn't manage to process what happened just a few minutes ago.

It was all impossible, in a logical point of view. It made no sense, it sounded wrong, it seemed wrong everywhere! When someone barges into your house, bloodies your hands and sucks away every ounce of kindness in you, then there has to be something going on deep inside his mind, surely; that guy isn't normal.

Yes, well... I wished I understood that, the moment I saw him.

If it weren't for those big green gentle eyes.

... and that wound.

Then I would slammed the door on his handsome face, because guess what? That's what I usually do to 'unwanted visitors'.

However, the situation wasn't as simple as it seemed.

I, as a proud and respectful writer, would have used a fair share of grotesque vocabulary against him with great ease, however...

When you're being threatened by such a vile, cruel and heartless monster...

You might want to reconsider doing so.

Roof-Sharing.

The foul scent of death invaded my nostrils the moment I wore the chirurgical gloves, making me cringe while pinching my nose in disgust. If he had to go through such extreme measures, then he could have at least tried to be a bit cleaner than that. The mess was beyond what I had ever expected, even after watching a whole collection of gory 80's horror movies; the real thing was... I don't even know anymore.

I think that... in that very moment, what scared me the most weren't the dead bodies or even the blood... or that random head lying on the grass, but rather myself.

A normal person would have screamed, yelled out for help or even tried to call the police. If all of those didn't work then fighting for one's life was still a good option.

However, I didn't bulge.

I just stood there, looking at him completely wide-eyed. He didn't move as well, he was simply just standing there, sensually (?!) licking his bloody knife while staring at his dead victims.

My mind didn't recover from the shock, so I kept staring at him without even thinking about the consequences. He could have killed me too, or even worse; tortured, raped, burned me alive.

... but he didn't.

Instead, he simply tilted his head towards me; his eyes still had that fierce, impressive golden color. Glaring at me with so much passion and hatred that I nearly fell on my knees. An impressive expression was engraved on his face, he looked delighted, or rather; relaxed.

Slowly, he began walking towards me, his eyes were locked on mine, not even blinking once. I had the feeling it was my turn, that I had to face death as well; that it was game over for little Flaky, no more stories, no more fans, love.

Dying a virgin, good job; me!

I closed my eyes tightly, bracing myself for what could possibly be the most rapid and painful experience once in a life-time. This was it for me, The End; credits go to God, heaven's production, thank you very much.

Please make it quick, I thought in panic, ready to enter a deep and profound eternal slumber, until-

He pinched my cheek.

"Oi, bitch." He called arrogantly.

I slowly opened an eye. He pointed at the gory mess behind him with his thumb.

"Clean this up, will you?"

I blinked a good dozen of times while rubbing my cheek. What just happened?

"U-U-U...Uau...W-wh—"

Before I could come up with an understandable phrase, he pinched my cheek harder, making me wince.

"Stop blabberin' nonsense and get on with it, or you'd rather I paint the walls with your blood instead?"

My eyes widened in sudden realization, I immediately shook my head. Please don't, I thought in panic, it was all too much for me to take in already, besides... I still couldn't believe what happened, and I didn't know why I obeyed him so calmly.

I sighed again.

Here you are now, Flaky... I began talking to myself in my head, helping out a psychopath, how low have you fallen?

It was just too grotesque I nearly hurled all over the place, he had a gun on him didn't he? Why didn't he use it? Wouldn't it have been cleaner? Swifter? Better?!

Why chop them up into pieces and making it even harder for me?

I bit my bottom lip so hard I nearly bruised it; I really did it this time.

I really really really did it this time.

Why did you let a complete stranger enter your house?! Why did you treat his wounds?! WHY DID YOU SUCCUMB TO HIS GODLY CHARMS?!

I was mad, oh so very very mad. The guy I dragged towards the hole started losing his legs from all of the 'slices' Flippy did to him. I cursed lightly under my breath and threw him in then marched back to fetch his dismembered parts.

Rest in fucking peace, asshole. I thought angrily as I threw his legs and eyeballs inside the hol—grave.

"Ugh... What on earth's going on..." I thought out loud while wiping the sweat on my forehead.

If those bastards didn't come in and started shooting randomly, breaking my beloved house with their evil bullets; then none, I mean none of this would have happened!

What was with that guy, anyway? That Flippy... why did they go and chase him all the way here? Why was he wounded? Is he a bad guy, a traitor? A spy?

I glanced towards the broken window, spotting him inside my living room, resting calmly on the sofa with his bloody boots on my coffee table, using my laptop while lighting a cigarette.

Without noticing it, my brows furrowed in anger. While I was there, cleaning up his mess, dirtying my hands, under the sun's suffocating heat; Mister I'm-too-good-to-look-at-you was having fun on the internet.

I just wanted to go there and slam his head on the table.

... But it was just me daydreaming.

You don't have the balls for it, Flaky. Go there and that guy will decapitate you.

He suddenly started laughing, whatever he was doing; he was enjoying it. And the more he laughed, the more I wanted to murder him.

But I shook that thought away once he threw me one of his death glares, making me turn and go back to what I was doing; digging holes for his victims.

It took me a good hour and a half to finish everything. True, my yard looked suspicious but it was still better than leaving them there for everyone to contemplate.

I smiled triumphantly, that was done. Now the only thing left was the house... my sweet sweet and cozy house.

Taking off my bloodied gloves and throwing them in the nearby trash can, I slowly walked my way towards the kitchen in search for the broom, so I could get rid of all the scattered glass. Flippy was still in the living room, so I tried to make absolutely no noise in order not to draw his attention.

Though that was useless, because he instantly turned to throw yet another glare at me.

"Got rid of em'?" He said arrogantly with his deep voice. I bit my lip again while averting my eyes from his; they were so yellow and fierce... I just couldn't take it.

"Y-y-y-yea... I d-d-d-dug a-a-a-and—"

"Okay, good." He cut me off, smoking on what could possibly be his third cigarette, I wondered where he got those.

I nodded slowly, my body was still shaking from fear, I hated him; I really did... but I was more scared of him. He didn't look like he was about to do anything to me, I could see this much, but I had to be cautious, we're talking about a murderer here.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a sudden growl, I frowned.

"Damn it! So fuckin' hungry!" He cursed while standing up, walking towards the kitchen and pushing me aside violently in the process, making me fall on the ground and injuring myself with the shattered glass.

"Owww..." I bit my lip while removing the glass in my arms and legs; I could see the blood pouring out slowly.

Well, at least I survived this.

I grabbed into one of the curtains in an attempt to stand up without further bruising myself, good thing I still had my shoes on, otherwise my feet would be goners by now.

Flippy was taking out all of the food in the fridge, his cigarette still in his mouth. He was making himself at home, that I could clearly see.

He was aiming at the pasta with cheese I made yesterday evening and some slices of ham. That was about everything, since I didn't have much appetite anyways. I think he was actually displeased.

"Hey..." He spoke, I turned my head; still in a half-attempt to lift myself up.

"Y-y-y-ye...yes?" I stuttered.

Before I knew it, a slice of ham came straight into my face in full-speed, blinding me and making me fall on the shattered glass again.

It couldn't have been more painful.

"Is this fucking it?! Is that all yer got in here?!" He cursed while checking out the whole kitchen in search for food.

I winced and groaned in pain, this time it was my butt that was bruised.

Despite the pain, I still answered; "I... don't eat much s-s-s-so—"

"You don't eat much?" He eyed me while rubbing his chin, "A fatty like you? Really? Don't lie to me, bitch! Tell me where the food is hidin'!"

Putting aside his rude comment about my weight, I grabbed once more the curtain in hopes to get away safely; if he threw another piece of ham then I don't think I would be able to stand up again. It was already hard enough with my legs like this.

"I-I-I'm serious, I r-r-really d-don't eat th-this much."

Flippy remained quiet for a good moment, looking at me with his golden eyes. His gaze was intense and intimidating; I was under the sudden impression that he was going to kill me for not having enough food inside my house. But then again, it would still be much better than to continue to suffer, the glass did a good job in messing me up. I don't recall ever looking so bloody in my life; I guess everything has a first, huh?

My legs were getting wobbly and the pain intensified as I was finally standing up on my two feet, slowly and steadily; I sighed and tried to walk my way towards the bathroom and get some alcohol to disinfect my bruises, it was terrifyingly hard.

I didn't notice Flippy, who was already about a few centimetres next to me. I glanced towards his direction, holding my hands close to my heart (which was beating pretty fast).

"Hey, cook me dinner." He ordered, still glaring.

"N-Now?"

He didn't answer; instead he blew some smoke on my face, making me cough.

"Does it look like I can fucking wait? I want the meal to be ready before I finish this cigarette!" He hissed, I nodded and tried to head towards the kitchen without being too clumsy.

My whole body hurts like hell.

I stopped near the table and resumed in cutting the vegetables for my stew, when I first started it; I was happy, happy I could do something useful for someone. And somehow it made me even happier when I knew that that someone was actually Flippy, the man whom I saved.

... the man who thanked me, who gently wiped off the sweat from cheeks.

Who smiled so sweetly at me.

The man who was an illusion.

The Flippy I see now isn't a kind and gentle wounded man, but a cruel murderer who only thinks of himself. He didn't even look slightly bothered by the fact that I was bruised as well, and severely.

It took me all of the power I had so desperately stocked inside of me to not cry, my eyes were getting watery and I tried to prevent any sob to escape my lips. This was the last thing I wanted, cry.

I didn't want to cry, not in front of that bastard, it would make me look weak. I hated looking weak, I hated when people pitied me, I wasn't weak, I'm not weak, and I'll never ever be weak.

I'm strong, yes... strong and proud.

I told that to myself repeatedly as I wiped away my tears, everything was fine. Even if I had to die by his hands, then it would be okay, because at least I would die proudly.

Before I noticed it, a few drops of blood fell into the stew, making me grimace. I didn't want to redo it so I just shrugged it off and let it cook on low-fire, I doubted it would be finished as soon as Flippy wanted it to, but it was fine.

The pain was starting to be unbearable for me, it was good enough that I had finished the meal, so all that there was left for me was to just... walk my way upstairs and get that darned alcohol.

But in the worst possible time in history, my legs failed me; and were put to sleep. Making me fall head-first on the floor.

"... Crap..." I said, muffled. My floor tasted awful.

I'm gonna' get upstairs, even if I have to limp my way there!

I didn't care if I looked like a worm; I just wanted to get it over with. The pain was nothing compared to my determination, it wasn't worth losing, or even the humiliation!

That's right! N-No matter what stand in my way, I'll do my best to survi-

"The Fuck?"

I stopped the moment I heard that voice, oh damn it... Flippy.

Slowly, I peeked at him. He looked confused, even disturbed.

"U-Um..." I didn't have a logical explanation to this, so I just stared; nearly looking as dumb-founded as him.

Suddenly, his curious expression changed to a delighted one.

"Strawberries, huh..." He smirked devilishly at me, I had no idea what he meant, until I noticed that my skirt didn't fully cover my lower part-

I gasped as I lowered my skirt, it was long enough to reach my knees, so why did it fail me now?! Darn those reckless ways! If I hadn't... If I hadn't-!

Before I realized he was above me, I felt a strong pair of hands lift me up from my arm pits. I blushed, embarrassed by the sudden contact, he carried me bridal-style and was already heading towards the living room.

"Wh-Wh... wh-wh-wh-wh-wha-wha-wha-wha wha wha wha wha whaaaaa—"

"Ugh, would you just shut up already?!" He shouted in annoyance, "Say ONE more word and I'll be sure to feed you your intestines!"

I nodded, my cheeks still red. What was he doing?! What's got into him?! Why was he helping me, didn't he not care weather I live or die? What's with him?! Why is he-?!

He threw me on the couch and sat next to me, looking at me with his intense gaze, or more accurately... looking at my wounds.

"You clumsy bitch," he sighed as he grabbed me by the leg, "Getting hurt like that, it's only natural that you'd fall and hurt yourself even more! How are you supposed to continue cooking me dinner in this state, huh?!"

I just stared... completely confused at what he was about to do.

He sighed again, "Can't be helped, relax a bit okay?"

I was even more confused when he lowered his head and-

Oh my god.

He was literally licking my wounds with his tongue on my leg, my leg!

"WhaAAAaaaaAAaaat aa-aaa—aaaaaare y-y-y-you dooo—" I attempted to say, my cheeks still red. He covered my mouth with his free hand and proceeded in licking my wounds, this time his tongue was slowly making its way on my thighs, licking the small trail of blood. My blush intensified knowing clearly where he was heading at, and that was the bruise on my upper-thigh.

His rough hand was still covering my mouth, stopping me from making any type of unwanted noise, he was damn good... too damn good!

His other hand grabbed my thigh, lifting it up so he could lick it circularly, I tried to break free but he was too strong, and besides... my legs were asleep, I couldn't budge.
He was surprisingly gentle, and it felt pretty good actually.

After finishing his licking session on my leg and thighs, he forcefully grabbed my arm and started licking it, commencing from my muscles, to my hands, gently removing the blood from my fingertips.

I just looked, wide-eyed; at the scene in front of me.

His eyelashes were so long and pretty... his facial features were thin and beautiful, he was truly handso-

No way.

I thought it was over, until his face got closer and closer to mine, my cheeks flushed into an outstanding red, as if all the 5L of my blood rushed towards my head. Jesus Christ, he was licking my cheek!

My soul nearly left my body.

When he was done, he removed his hand from my mouth, smirking yet again at me; and I was still blushing, hard.

"Tasty," he said huskily while removing some blood on the corner of his mouth with his finger, then putting it inside his mouth. I frowned then averted my eyes from his gaze, pretending none of that ever happened. He stood up, slowly.

"You should be good to go now," He lighted another cigarette, and then blew off some smoke.

"Now go and fetch me my fucking dinner."

... God...

Please, put me out of my misery.

TBC.

Sorry! Shorter chapter than usual... I actually didn't want it to end there Dx But because I had internet issues (mostly at night) I couldn't think of a better way to do it. And also, I planned to update Carnage Paradox before this, but I couldn't because I keep rewriting it, EVERY TIME! And by the time I'll be satisfied with how my chapter is, then I'll be sure to update it!
I think, you can say in about 3~ Days, I'll be able to update Carnage Paradox, yup.
So anyways, I just started deviantART and I'm TRYING to draw the perfect Flippy/Fliqpy, but IN VAIN. If you guys wanna' go and check it out, feel free to browse on my profile.

Don't Forget to review, my lovelies! (Well, I can't force ya, but it would be nice to show some love sometimes...)

SeeYa!