The meaty hands yanked her back with such force it yanked her shirt up, forcing her bare skin against the carpet. Soft on her feet, it was coarse when it raked against her skin so quickly, and her too-large shirt obscured her face when the corpulent thing dangled her in the air by one ankle.

"Darling-!" Eddie sounded frantic, "Oh, Darling! I'm coming! Unhand her, you brute!"

She would've laughed if coarse fingers weren't touching her stomach and trailing down, grazing a breast and making her entire body go rigid. It was the thing that laughed in her stead.

"Don't you touch her!" Eddie frantic tone had a hard edge now. A hard, ugly edge, "Don't you fucking touch her! She's mine!"

Jenny struggled to pull the hem of her shirt back under control, but something heavy clobbered her and she felt herself turn into a ragdoll. All she could see was rust-stained material, the scrubs that had once been a dull blue. She could hear shouting and screaming and breaking wood. The world swayed. She was moving. Moving away from the sounds of violence. It would be easy to slip into darkness. Darkness like the tunnel. Like a little wriggly rat, squeak squeak, safe and sound and out of harm's way.

But she wasn't a rat. She wasn't. She wasn't a fucking rat, and she wasn't safe, and a rock had her over his shoulder, carrying her away from a hard place like a sack of potatoes. Neither were ideal. The rock, the monster, opened a door and tossed her down onto a tiled floor. Fluorescent lights buzzed. She could smell piss. Was it her? No. A urinal. A men's room. The monster's meaty hand grabbed her hair and dragged her over to a stall, banging it open, and he held her head over the water for a moment, letting her get a good look.

Jenny had been thirsty. She didn't think she was anymore.

The monster pressed her face into the toilet bowl, forcing it down and holding it there. At first she just held her breath, but she couldn't hold it for long, and she started to panic. He was going to drown her, despite what his earlier caress had suggested. She'd watched him rip off a man's head, but for her, it was drowning. Jenny struggled, scratching at whatever she could. His thick wrist, his hand. She didn't think she was doing any damage, or if she was, he didn't care.

Suddenly he yanked back and she gasped and then coughed when the water running down her face was sucked into her lungs. She gulped greedily for air, trying to grasp his wrist, to get her legs underneath her, but down she went again. Jenny didn't even feel in control of what her body was doing, but she felt it would know better than she did. Anything to not drown. Anything.

He lifted her head up again and then lifted her up, up, and she was sure she felt some scalp give. The monster wrapped an arm around her middle and pressed her fully against him, his body a furnace. Maybe drowning was better. What was it doing? What now?

"Can you squeal, little pig?"

Jenny sucked in a deep breath and screamed for Eddie. He clamped a hand down over her mouth, even though she was sure his rhetorical question had also been a request. His hand stank of rotten meat and blood, and though the wild thought to bite him crossed her mind, she rejected it. She didn't want whatever was on his hand in her mouth. The door to the men's room burst open almost immediately, and suddenly she was in the air, and just as suddenly she hit something solid, bowling it backwards. Eddie. He'd thrown her at him. She was bait for a much bigger fish.

And now he was advancing. He had to duck to get through the door. Duck and side-step. Although briefly stunned by the projectile flung at him, Eddie gathered her up in his arms and ran with her. Jenny wasn't sure if laughing was the appropriate response, considering. All that came out were thick, wet coughs. Eddie to the rescue. Not even Eddie wanted to fight that fucking thing.

"Throw it back!" the monster called after them. His voice wasn't very far away. He was big, but he was fast, "Throw it back! It's too small! Under the limit! Throw me the runt!"

Eddie vaulted over the ruins of the barricade, but carrying her threw his balance off and he stumbled, swore, crushing her to his chest in attempt to keep them upright. He somehow recovered, and Jenny realized she'd been gripping his suitcoat lapels like some hideous cliché. She wasn't being saved right now. Maybe she wasn't going to get drowned or decapitated, but this was very much a six of one, half-dozen of the other type situation.

He grunted and pitched forward without warning, but as she anticipated his crushing weight, he managed to turn and land on his shoulder. They both jolted, and she tumbled out of his arms, coming to a stop hard against a wall. From her vantage, she saw the monster looming over him, and even as Eddie tried to push up off of the floor, one of the monster's ham fists came down on the back of his head, driving him back down again.

Jenny scrambled back, scooting on her ass, and she wasn't proud of the incoherent gibbering that came out of her mouth in place of words. If that thing killed Eddie, she was dead. But if she went with Eddie, she was dead, too. Maybe. He'd made a big effort to get her away from the monster. Why make all that effort if you were going to kill someone? Unless he wanted to kill her himself, in some other unspeakable way. A way that might make her nostalgic for drowning in a men's room toilet. Trying to parse out the logic of an insane person was as exhausting as it was pointless.

She twisted around to get to her feet, stumbled and fell down when her legs refused to hold her weight, and got up again. This time they worked, but grudgingly. Jenny darted into the nearest office and started to toss it, looking for something, anything. The struggling outside was lots of meat striking meat and grunts. She didn't know if Eddie was fighting back or if the monster was just beating him to death, but she didn't stop to check.

Her choices were slim, so she grabbed the thing that would be the easiest for her to use and staggered back into the hallway. They were both on their feet, but the monster had Eddie pinned against the wall, holding him up so his feet dangled. He was gagging and kicking at the monster while he strangled, his expression hateful. Not afraid. Not even a little bit afraid. That gave Jenny pause, but his eyes moved to her, and she knew the monster would follow his gaze a moment later, and she would be well and truly fucked. Jenny dropped down to the floor, gripped the letter opener with both hands and jammed up, right into where she imagined his scabby fucking balls were. She jammed up and then she twisted, gritting her teeth when she encountered resistance.

That got his attention. The monster howled and grabbed for her, but she was off her feet before she could even process the fact that hot blood had soaked her hands. She was over Eddie's shoulder, and she saw the thing sink to his knees, clutching his ruined genitals.

Eddie's breathing was ragged and his gait was unsteady, but after a few minutes of flat-out sprinting he seemed to recover. He didn't stop running. It was dark outside of the offices, and she wondered if they were going right back to where she'd started. The thought made her heart sink into her stomach, and that, in turn, made her sick. Jenny had nothing to bring up, however, and she just dry heaved as she bounced against Eddie's shoulder. She was going to black out, she was fairly certain. She was exhausted, terrified, drained, and it wasn't even over yet.

He slowed down and carefully set her down on the ground, bracing his hands on his thighs as he attempted to catch his breath. Jenny tried to stand a few times, but she was like a newborn deer – her legs refused to take her weight. Giving up, she wiped her gory hands on her scrubs. They were more rust than blue, now, though in the gloomy hallway the blood looked black.

Jenny hated that she started to cry. Big wet sobs that shook her shoulders. Jesus, she had thought she was going to make it out. She had felt the autumn wind and the sun on her skin, and now she was in a stuffy hallway with a psychopath who called her darling. Right back where she'd fucking started.

"Oh, my love," Eddie sighed and sat down next to her. He put an arm around her, and firmly (but gently) turned her chin to face him. Jenny swallowed noisily, and looking at his diseased face made her burst into sobs anew. She hated how he was looking at her, like he knew her, like hecared. Jenny knew he didn't, but she would've given both legs for one sincere, comforting hug right about now, "I thought you were like all those other deceitful whores, but you're not, are you? You helped me. I knew you loved me. You're just fickle and confused, is all. That's just how women are. But you knew what was best for you, in the end. I'm so proud of you, darling. I know it's hard to swallow your pride."

Jenny closed her eyes, her brows knit, and then the gentle hand on her chin was gripping her throat. Her eyes flew open.

"Don't you ever run away from me again," he said, "Ever. Ever. It's just not safe, my darling girl. Do you understand?"

She tried to nod, but his grip on her throat was too tight, so she just stared at him. That seemed to be enough, at least, and he released her, pulling her into his lap so he could give her an almost crushing hug. Jenny wondered if this was what a gorilla's therapy kitten felt like. He stroked her hair and started to hum, and in spite of herself, in spite of everything, she started to drift off. She was so tired, and he was warm. He smelled like blood and Old Spice, but she couldn't smell much better by now.

His flower was gone. Thank god. That thing had been almost too absurd.

Jenny was vaguely aware of moving again, drifting in and out. He was going to kill her soon, but not before he did something else. She didn't know what, exactly, but she wasn't stupid. He'd gone from fawning to threatening to break her legs not too long ago. The doting veneer was just that – a flimsy front to cover something ugly and cruel.

Where they ended up, she didn't know, but he laid her down on a bed and covered her with his suitcoat, kissing her temple before creeping out of the room. There was a solid click of a door locking to punctuate just how little choice she had in whatever fucked up narrative he was weaving her into. At least she wasn't in restraints.

For now.