Hey guys,
Back at it again, not sure if I'll have a regular updating schedule as my personal life is kind of hectic but we shall see!
I must say that I was not expecting such positive feedback for my first fic! But I am so pleased to see that I have captured some of your interests.
I was considering checking out the game since I loved the characters so much, but alas I have a Mac which is not compatible with the game (fuck). Maybe I'll watch a walkthrough, though it pains me to think of not playing it myself firsthand. But I'm sure it will help me with the content of this story, so thank you, Reader, for the suggestion! Feel free to rant away whenever you please haha I love sharing thoughts on this fandom!
And without further ado…
Chapter 2
There are few things in this life that I take great pleasure in. I'm sure number one on that list is more than obvious: killing.
Anger has been an emotion I've known all too well in my life, it has plagued me through my childhood and still shadows me like a blanket to this day. I never knew what to do with it, until the moment I witnessed true bloodshed across the old screen of those fuckwit's TV. It was like a missing puzzle piece had finally been secured into place. A light finally flicked on in my numbskull brain and suddenly I understood where I could put that shit to good use.
Second on that list, is fear.
Oh the sweet agony that paints across a victims face just before they piss themselves in fright. Mmm, it makes goosebumps dance all across my body. The warping of a happy expression into fright and terror thrills me like nothing else, truly.
And last, but most certainly not least, comes control.
Feeling someone's life in the grip of my bandaged fingers and smothering it until it's quite literally suffocated to death. Or slashing my sharp scythe across the thin and fragile skin of a jugular and watching that crimson color paint a bright path down their neck. I'm not choosey.
Having the power in the palm of my hands to control the outcome of any given moment, it is beauty. It is something I relish in. So it's no surprise that I am experiencing absolutely zero fucking pleasure in this moment. I have no fucking control, no fear, no one to kill. You see my dilemma?
I have complete awareness of my surroundings at the moment. Shocker right? With how I've been slipping in and out of consciousness you'd think I was a goner for sure. Fuck that, I ain't goin' down without a fight. Can't clap our hands and sing kumbaya yet though, because do I have a visual of anything? No. My fucking eyes feel like they've been superglued shut and don't want to listen to my brain telling them to open the fuck up.
I have a tingling sensation that pricks my skin as I hone in on a presence coming closer to me. Their approach is frantic, that much I can sense. My other senses struggle to compensate for my lack of sight. Taking in the quick breaths escaping my visitor as well as the slapping of their shoes as they draw nearer. Tch, somebody needs an inhaler. Suddenly, they're upon me and my rigid form loses all the tension that has coiled up inside me when they utter my name.
"Zack?" comes her familiar voice. I urge my body to work, to move. The only thing it seems willing to do is fill my lungs with air, my chest rising and falling with the action, my mouth won't even open. It's cemented shut with a dryness that I can't seem to relieve. Useless.
I can hear her rigorous huffing, trying to catch her breath. The brat must have ran a while to be this beat, jeez. I will my body to move but it again seems to be pretty fucking useless. I give up and choose to just wait things out. At least I can use Ray as a set of eyes while mine are malfunctioning.
"You're alive." Her tone held relief it seemed, which is odd. I heard a weird splashing noise, maybe my blood was seeping out of my body faster? Nah, I didn't feel any different. Suddenly something touched my abdomen, fingers. I wanna flinch away, my nerves crawling restlessly at the foreign sensation of a hand snaking across my belly. But it seems the strength to do anything continues to escape me. Tch.
Cold. That is the next feeling I have. What?
It finally occurs to me that it's from the air hitting my bare skin. What the hell? Naked skin? I have bandage—wait. The feeling of soft fingers pulling away the bandages seizes the next breath in my throat, shriveling up any other thoughts lingering in my mind. The softness brushing low on my belly. Right above the button of my jeans. It sends a thrilling shiver right up my spine. Fuck. What the hell was that?
There is a foreign wetness that touches my skin next, and more hands. More touching. Massaging. Rubbing the liquid onto my flesh, and I feel my body reacting to the strange feeling in a bizarre ass way. There is a slight twinge of pain as the area around my wound is worked in such a way that I have never experienced. I groan at the odd warmth that seems to be pooling in my gut. Am I about to bleed to death? Goddammit, what the hell is this?
The movement on my stomach seems to cease at my sudden noise.
"Zack? Are you awake?" Ray questions me in a soft whisper.
I'm finally able to crack my lids open and take in the scene unfolding before me. It's a slow process, making me feel retarded for how long it takes the situation to settle into my brain. Ray's got her hands on me, slathered in some type of liquid and my own blood. The sight in itself is weirdly alluring. Kind of erotic to me, as a kill would be. Weird.
"Ray, you made it back alive," is the first thing that spills out of my mouth. Fucking idiot, of course she made it back alive, she's got her fucking palms rubbing all over you for fuck's sake. I roll my eyes behind my eyelids at my own stupidity. Opening them again, I finally take note of the bottles she has scattered around her knees, something written on the labels. Fuck if I know what it says, but I can at least gather that it's the medicine she went in search of God only knows how long ago.
Her head nods in assent to my dumbass question. It draws my attention to her face. I get trapped at the look on her face for a moment, not understanding why the hell she looks so different right now. Her face is the same as always, relaxed and free of the tension I saw earlier. Her lips drawn into a straight line, not giving away any kind of cue as to what she's thinking at the moment. My mind swirls trying to figure out what's changed. But then I look at her eyes, prepared to be met with the same dull blue that I've become accustomed to.
But that's not what I see.
Her eyes are sparkling, shimmering like a deep and endless ocean. I feel like I'm being sucked in to a whirlpool I won't ever escape from, so I quickly bring my attention back to the medicine laid out between us.
"You got the medicine, how'd you manage that?" I question in my usual tone, there's that attitude I was looking for. I inwardly praise myself for managing to do something normal.
"The priest gave it to me."
I scrounge my brain to try and figure out who the hell that is and suddenly remember the freaky dude with no pupils. "Ah, the priest..right. And he just gave this stuff to you?" I question suspiciously. How the hell did she manage to make that happen, she's just a tiny little runt.
She paused for a moment, making me think that there was more to the story. What a pain, just spit it out already dammit. I go to open my mouth to urge her to tell me what happened while I was unconscious, only to have her abruptly change the topic.
"I have to stitch your wound," she decides to say.
Irritated at her dismissal of my question I say, "It's fine, not a big deal—" getting cutoff before I can finish, interrupting me with "You're losing too much blood, I have to close the wound. I'm good at sewing." Her insistence is as annoying as her evasion. Her hands descend upon my gaping stomach, reaching to touch the injury. My hand grips her, halting her movement.
"I said it's fine, I can do it myself." I spit out as she leans back and instead reaches for her bag.
She pauses her actions to look at me curiously. "Are you also good at sewing things, Zack?" she asks innocently. Her pureness is shining a little too brightly at the moment and I can't help but cower away from the intensity.
I squint at her, "What's with you? You're so pushy right now." I tell her with suspicion laced in my voice. "I'm not some fucking shirt you sew back together."
She stares at me for a beat too long, causing my eye to twitch at her blatant gaze.
"What—"
"I don't mind sewing your belly," she interrupts me once again. My jaw clenches and I grit my teeth in agitation. Taking a deep breath in through my nose, and releasing it through my mouth, I let my annoyance subside a bit.
"Whatever, don't blame me if you get all grossed out." I grumble out begrudgingly.
"I'll be fine, I want to do it," comes her simple and quick reply. This makes me cast a side glance at her face, wondering what the hell kind of alien I have in my presence.
"Who the hell are you anyway? Why does none of this seem to faze you?" I say, my suspicion at her origin coiling in my mind. She doesn't even look at me as she continues going about her business gathering her thread and needle to begin her task. I relent, figuring I should let her do what she needs to do if she's so insistent on it. "Tch, whatever. You managed to get the medicine and come back alive. Good job."
She's attempting to thread the needle, taking a second to nod at my praise, when I decide to throw one more question at her, "Say, Ray? Why are you doing this, helping me?" I clarify, "What the hell do you get out of this?"
This finally seems to give her pause after she uses my knife to slice through the thread. "This blade is very sharp," she states blankly. My brows furrow in confusion at her statement and what that has to do with any of the questions I've asked her so far. Fucking brat.
She's glancing at her reflection in the shiny blade of the weapon. Before I can make another statement at her obvious avoidance. Her eyes meet mine, giving me pause. Her eyes have that strange glittery affect again that sucks me in, but before I can drown in their depths. She slaps me out of the trance with her next statement.
"It's because, you are my God, Zack."
My body rears back as if I've been punched, my arms barely catching my sudden movement and keeping my body upright. What the fuck? My heart pounds in my chest in a fast paced rhythm. "What the hell did you say, you freak!? What kinda bullshit are you spewing, Ray?" Now I definitely know that she just grew a second goddamned head from her shoulder, no doubt in my mind she's from some fucked up alien race.
She was still staring at the blade though. "My knife…?" I questioned not really knowing what the hell I was even going to say about it after a statement like that.
"I damaged it a bit, I'm sorry," was all she said in response to that. I looked at her strangely, wondering what the fuck was going on with her once again. She's so fucking strange.
"The hell's wrong with you, Ray?"
"I'm sorry." she repeats, closing her eyes and bowing her head a bit.
The action makes me feel weird, I don't like it so I look away from her, not understanding why she was taking the damage to my old knife so seriously. "It's not a big deal, don't worry about it," I mutter offhandedly.
I forget about the God comment for the moment as she mentions about how the knife saved her. "It did, did it? That's good," I state, watching as she dumps a bit of one of the medicines onto the thread, watching as it glided down the material before slowly dripping onto the floor, somewhat entranced by her actions. So intrigued I almost don't notice her begin to touch me. Almost.
I snap back to reality, however, as soon as she threads the needle through my skin. "Ouch!" I hiss through my teeth at her, flinching a bit as the needle pierces my skin. Ray pauses in her work to glance at me briefly.
"That hurt?" she questions in a bit of surprise. Well, as much surprise as an emotionless doll can muster apparently.
"No, it felt like daisies sprouting in spring, of course it fucking hurts you dumbass! What the hell do you think I am?" I ask incredulously.
"I don't know, I thought it wouldn't bother you," she mentions casually, not yet continuing her stitching.
"I ain't a fucking masochist, that's for damn sure." I grumble to her, "If I really am your God, you should be more careful with me!"
She stares at me for a minute, her face unusually close to mine I realize. My next breath almost gets caught in my throat before I force it out of me. Her eyes entrancing me again. She finally nods her head at me, the corner of her lip twitching upward ever so slightly, unknowingly breaking me from my pit fall into the depths of her weird ass eyes,and thank fuck for that because I'm realizing I'm acting too much like that psycho doc. "Okay, I will."
She returns her focus back to her sewing, being more gentle in her motions as she closes my wound. "Zack?" she questions meekly, glancing at me briefly before getting back to the motion of her hands.
"What's up?"
"What about your burns? Are they painful?" She asks, drawing my attention to the dark and mutilated skin that she's currently working to mend. I look away, not wanting to focus on the ugliness of the sight. So instead I tilt my head back, resting it on the wall my body is propped against, observing the light trickling in through the stain glass window above me.
"Nah, it doesn't hurt anymore, hasn't for a long time," I say tiredly, mentally willing her not to ask anything else.
I try not to show how relieved I am that she leaves it at that. As she finishes up I say, "Hey, as soon as you're done, we're getting going." She nods her head in agreement and finally cuts the access thread off the end of my perfectly stitched wound. I observe the precise criss-crossed pattern, and the even distance between each stitch, "Looks good, you really are good at that," I compliment. She wipes off the nonexistent sweat off of her brow while nodding at my words, I scoff in my head. As if that was physically draining. She goes to stand up, but her legs wobble and she collapses instead. Her head bobbing subtly as if she doesn't have the strength to keep it up-right.
"Hey..." I trail off, observing her slouched figure, and thinking she must've gone through a hell of a lot of shit to get that medicine for me. I sigh at her weakness, letting my body fall back against the wall. "Let's rest a bit, that took some energy outta me," I say finally, glancing at her quickly as I give her the out.
She nods her head at me, slumping against the wall beside me and knocks out in an instant. Tch. She could have just said she was tired, I may be an asshole but I'm not some ungrateful bastard. I take a sideways glance at her sleeping form before my mind quickly drifts to what she said earlier, calling me her God. I didn't understand it, I still don't. What is with her obsession with it? I ain't nothing like a God, the furthest thing from it actually. I'm a fucking murderer for christ's sake. I'd be better suited toward being Satan honestly.
I don't know why I'm dwelling on the subject, I barely know her story anyway so I don't understand why I'm that concerned over a simple comment she made. It should just inflate my ego, having her worship me. But for some reason, it doesn't. All it does is create this itch under my skin that I can't get to go away, that weird look in her eye as she said it too. Her words should have given me the utmost pleasure. She was supplying me with so many of my favorite things.
She was giving me all the control, she wanted to be useful to me, to act as my tool in making my escape from this literal hellhole. I had all of the power in my hands when it came to Ray. She even wanted me to kill her, we had vowed on it. Murder was of course my favorite pastime and I sure as hell wasn't a liar, I would keep that promise. Just not until she got me out of here. Or until she fixed that ugly look on her face she always had. It's no good offing an emotionless puppet, especially when apparently I'm the one pulling the strings. That's like playing with myself, how pathetic. She wasn't even afraid of me, it wasn't fun if she wasn't shitting her pants like the others.
She was different, I'm not sure why.
Hope you guy's enjoyed this chapter! Let me know your thoughts!