A/N: I was going to include a couple of other chapters before this one, but I've been busy, and I'm getting tired of this to be honest. :/ It feels like I'm wasting my time, because hardly anybody's reviewing, and I haven't actually GOT time to waste. But thanks to those who have shown an interest (:
WARNING: This chapter contains rape. Poor Kyle. I'm so mean!
Chapter eight
I wondered aimlessly through the aisles of groceries and hummed contentedly. I'd told Stan I'd get dinner tonight, and I wasn't paying attention to anything but the rows of vegetables in front of me.
"Hello, little slut." I jumped at the familiar snarl from behind me, and spun round to face the figure looming above me. I swallowed apprehensively, sparing a glance for the hand he'd clapped onto my shoulder, nails digging in just enough for it to hurt.
"C-Colt..." I stammered. Go! He's not your boyfriend anymore, GO!
"Thought you'd lost me, had 'ya?" he hissed. I looked around fearfully. A few heads had turned in our direction.
"Please, not here," I begged "People are staring!" He pulled me closer so that our noses were almost touching. There was something... Odd about it. There was no scent of alcohol on his breath.
For the first time since I'd known him, he wanted to beat the shit out of me sober. He really hates you.
"Meet me at Stark's Pond in an hour" he growled "Or your buddy Stan will suffer for it."
Thirty minutes later...
"Where're you going, babe?" Wendy asked as I shrugged on my jacket. I paused, looking deep into her beautiful eyes, the colour of emeralds. She was looking expectantly at me.
"Just... Just goin' for a walk." I assured her. TELL HER! She smiled at me.
"Okay, babe. Just take care of yourself. You're looking kinda tired." I nodded, and tried to return her smile.
Forty-five minutes later...
Okay. Okay. Don't panic. Just get to Stark's Pond, and tell him you're over. You can do this. You can do this... Oh, I can so totally not do this! Oh my God... What the hell am I gonna do?
Okay. Don't panic... Just do what he says... You're such a coward... A faggot.
Stan wouldn't even miss you if Colt were to kill you today.
One hour later...
I shivered as he licked my neck, before trying to push me to my knees, -no doubt to do some unspeakable act to me- but I refused to be had so easily. I pushed against him.
"No! Get off!" I screamed. You can do better then that, you slut! It's as if you WANT him to do it! He smiled sadistically at me.
"Don't worry little fuck, we'll have some fun today. Oh no, I'll make sure that you don't ever forget this." He grabbed my arm and pulled it behind my back so he could get me to move.
"You'll never get away with this" I spat. "I fucking hate you, and I always will!"
"Oh yeah?" he snarled. He twisted my arm further behind my back, causing pain to shoot up my arm and resulting in me howling. "You wanna try that again?" he whispered into my ear. It took every last bit of the willpower in my body, but I shook my head. He let out a deep growl, and yanked my arm back again. There was a sickening crack, and I gasped. I wanted to scream, to release all the pain into the open, but it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from my lungs. The world seemed to be spinning, and I thought I was going to throw up from the ravaging fire that had spread up my bone. Tears streamed down my face; they were the only part of me that was warm. My arm was in a horribly twisted position, and I barely noticed as he pushed his jeans and boxers down. I did however notice when he tried to take down my own.
"N-no..." I sobbed feebly, my voice barely audible.
"You're gonna have to do better than that, little fuck." his face was contorted into a sick smile.
"P-please... Please don't Colt..." he cupped a hand to his ear, as if he hadn't heard me.
"Oh I'm sorry. Please don't what?" I choked back a sob.
"Please don't fuck me..." he laughed.
"Louder."
"Please don't fuck me"
"Louder!"
"Please don't fuck me!" he laughed again, and pulled us closer.
"Too late." he whispered in my ear. He shoved me down again so I was lying on my stomach, naked from the waist down. He trailed a finger down my spine, and I shook with fear and pain, crying out as he put pressure on my broken arm. I felt him put his throbbing cock at my entrance, and buried my head in the ground. He's going to fuck you dry... Run...
His sudden thrust into me eliciting an ear-piercing shriek from my already sore throat; and I screamed even louder as he pulled in and out of me agonisingly slowly; the burning, scraping feeling making my broken bones seem like a paper cut. You deserve this, fag.
I screamed until I was hoarse; until I could scream no more. And he got pleasure from that fact. He let out blissful moans, pumping me hard, and gradually increasing in speed. It hurt like a bitch, but he didn't care.
He was fucking me close to the point where I passed out from the pain, but he still didn't care.
"Kyle?" a voice yelled. Oh God, no!
"Fuck!" Colt hissed. He slammed a hand over my mouth and pulled me along backwards, so we were lurking in the shadows of the forest.
"Kyle?" the desperate cry came again. For the first time in my life, I sensed an emotion flowing through Colt's veins that wasn't the result of booze or drugs. Fear. He was panicking. He lay me on the ground quietly so as not to lure Stan over to us, and wrapped his hands around my throat. He applied pressure, gently at first, but starting to squeeze harder and harder until his grip felt bone-breaking. KICK! BITE! PUNCH! ANYTHING! He was choking me, and I was allowing him to do so. COWARD! YOU FUCKING COWARD! To this day I still don't know why, but I didn't even try and fight back. That little voice inside my head was screaming, screaming at me to kick, punch, do anything that could keep me from passing out. But I didn't.
I just didn't.
And the last thing I did before my world faded to black?
I smiled.
