Chapter 10: Over the Threshold

So I was finally able to see Wolf Creek 2! Yay!

Jessica took a deep breath as her new captor drove to where ever it was that he considered home. She sighed softly as she tried to relax herself on the passenger seat beside Mick. She eyed him once again and sighed louder, hoping to catch his attention with her tired, pathetic noises.

It had been too silent between them since he shoved her off of him. The only sounds that filled the old car were that of the road and the soft tunes of old country songs which Mick occasionally hummed along with.

Nothing had been said and it seemed unnatural. She had listened to him speak to all of his victims. He enjoyed having conversations with his prey.

"Why here," she whispered as she realized that he wasn't going to break the silence between the, "Why this place? Why did it have to be you that found me?"

He turned to her and gave her a devilish smirk as he replied as if the answer were a matter of public knowledge, "Shit happens."

She rolled her eyes at his boorish reply, but nodded her head in agreement with his statement.

"Yeah shit happens," she replied, prodding at him, "I never wanted to come to this shithole country. Why when I have my own shithole of a country," she sighed as she looked noticed the sun shining off of the tin of an old farm house in the distance, "Brandon wanted to come here for our honeymoon," she stared up at her new found captor, "So much for honeymoon, huh Mick?"

'Conversation is good. Keeps his mouth moving and maybe he won't try anything else.'

"Well I wouldn't know 'bout that," he said as he wiped as he obnoxiously sucked in air through his nose, "Never had a honeymoon myself."

She closed her eyes as she thought about the wedding that she hadn't been able to be a part of. He was killed two weeks before their wedding day. They had planned on moving into their new home and getting settled in before coming to Australia for their honeymoon.

Then Brandon had died and all of their plans and dreams had been thrown into the river just as his ashes had been after his death was ruled as a horrible accident. She'd moved into their home and had laid in bed for days and days on end in a seemingly endless depression.

"Ya came to my country lookin' for adventure, did ya," Mick asked as the house came into closer view. Rust ate at the tin roof and the grey paint chipped from constant bombardment from the elements of the Outback.

"No. Africa is my home," she answered haphazardly as she sat up, groaning in pain as she did so, and looked over the house just as he pulled up to the large home. Her eyes took in the swinging wind chime on the porch and the little porch swing that sat swaying in the morning wind.

"You live here," she heard herself ask in slight shock.

'He has to live somewhere! Why couldn't he live in a nice house? Don't you remember Norman Bates?!'

"Oh ya know," Mick answered with a shrug of his shoulders as if he wasn't holding her hostage with the threat of death or the promise of unwanted sex, "I get around."

Jessica watched as he pulled himself out of the car. She watched with careful eyes as her captor ran his dirty hands through his oily, greying hair before he properly placed his hat back upon his head. She watched as he pulled the seat forward and removed his hunting rifle that he had hidden in the back seat the whole time.

She took a deep breath as fear bubbled inside of her chest. Being locked in a house with him could be a worse situation for her than trying to hide in the Outback, but she didn't have a choice in the matter. In order to survive, she'd have to remain in Mick Taylor's sadistic custody.

The pain from her abdomen and her cheek rippled through her as he jerked her out of the passenger side seat. She stumbled into him and could smell the rancid blood and sweat that riddled his body, and she could feel the heat that radiated from his vile body.

She groaned as the pain danced across her wounds and she heard Mick laugh at her like the bastard that he was. She doubled over from the pain in her abdomen. Her hand immediately clutched at the stained area. She prayed that the cuts hadn't widened or deepened from the vigorous amounts of movement that she had been put through in the last eight hours.

"What the fuck's wrong with you now," Mick asked as he jerked her up from her doubled over position.

"You mutilated my stomach and my face then slammed my head into a wall, remember," she reminded him as she daringly glared up at him. Her eyes sparkled with hatred. Her eyes were dry as if she had no more tears to cry for the events that had lead up to her being in his presence. The proud smile on his face sent a sickening impulse through her stomach and radiated through every cell in her body.

'Don't push your fucking luck with him!'

Mick chuckled at her words and quickly scooped his large arms around her thighs and chunked her over his left shoulder before she could protest the sudden movement. His chuckle quickly turned into his sadistic laughter as he listened to her moan and groan from the pressure that was being placed on his permanent gift to her. Her attempted punches in his back only caused him to gain more enjoyment from her thrashes against him.

"Now come on girlie," he announced happily as he slapped her playfully on the ass, "it's tradition!"

She stopped squirming at the sudden slap and looked to the rifle that he had dangled around his right shoulder. It dawned on her that squirming around near the business end of a rifle could be potentially hazardous to her livelihood.

Jessica bit her lip as he carried her to the front door of their temporary home. Blood rushed to her head from her newfound upside down position as he carried her over his shoulder that was biting into her permanent brand. She shivered as his hand caressed the curve of her thigh and moved upwards over her stained dress.

The door opened with a loud bang as it hit the wooden wall behind it. The smell of death and dust bombarded their senses as they

"Now," Mick announced as he stepped over the threshold and chunked her off of his shoulder, "like I said, it's tradition to carry the girl over the threshold on their weddin' day."

Jessica's back slammed into the wooden floor. Dust flew up around her as her brain rattled about in her skull from the sudden crash. She groaned from the pain that moved through her spine and she moved her head from side to side in an attempt to heed off the migraine that was soon to come rushing into her head.

"You son of a bitch," she cried as she attempted to push herself up from the floor. She could feel the dirt from the wooden floors bite into her elbows as she pushed herself up.

"Uh oh," Mick announced with a large smile that showed his dangerous, yellow teeth.

Jessica looked up to him to see the business end of the rifle glaring back at her. Her lip trembled as she looked passed the gun and up to him. His smile was cold, but his eyes were dilated from excitement. She swallowed the fear that was bubbling inside of her as she tried to collect her racing thoughts.

"So you bring me all the way out here just to put a bullet in my head," she asked as she positioned herself comfortably on her elbows and looked up to her captor.

"Of course not ya stupid bitch," he informed her as he moved the rifle away from her face, "We gotta lay some ground rules first."

"I'm listening," Jessica answered obediently, though her voice held a bitter edge that her father was known to use when being bombarded by rude media workers.

Mick leaned over and ripped her necklace from her neck and pocketed it, "The only one wieldin' a weapon is me. You got that? Now I don't wanna have to bind your hands again," he grinned wickedly at her, "You're too much fun!"

"Anything else," she asked in the same obedient yet bitter tone.

"Don't try to bloody fuckin' escape again," he answered as he sat the rifle against the wall as he shut the door behind him.

Jessica watched from her vulnerable position on the floor as he turned back to her with a wicked glint in his eyes. She could see the exhaustion from the night's chase and the early morning drive creeping upon the sun tanned skin of his face.

"What do we do now," she asked as she looked up at him.

"Get up," he demanded as he unbuttoned his flannel shirt.

She shook her head and backed up slightly as she watched him place himself into a more comfortable setting. She shivered as he reached out for her and pulled her off the dusty wooden floor.

"Wha-wh-what are you doing," she asked with a shaking voice as he pulled her away from the entrance of the abandoned house.

His dirty fingers dug into her arm as he pulled her to a bedroom in the back of the house. He could feel her shivers of fear and it spurred him forward.

"Mick," she pleaded, using his name for the first time since he revealed who he really was, "please don't do this. I can-"

"Get into bed," he demanded with dark smile.

Her lips trembled as she looked at the perfectly made bed. She looked back to Mick who was unbuckling his belt and throwing it into the corner. She backed away from his approaching figure and looked to the bed in fear.

"I'm not," she started to say as she hurried to find something to say as he approached her like the predator that he was, "I'm not ready for this," she shook her head back and forth and bit at her bottom lip, "Not yet."

Mick shoved her backwards and watched as she fell into the bed. He smiled as he watched her try to crawl across the bed; the blankets bunched with each movement that she made to escape him. He placed his knee upon the bed and reached out for her. He grabbed her wrist and jerked her back towards him. The fear was evident in her green orbs as he looked down on her and unbuttoned his jeans as part of a scare tactic that seemed to be working. He pulled his flannel shirt off and allowed it to fall to the floor.

"Mick-"

"It's bed time," Mick teased as he laid down on the pillow and pulled her towards him, "chasin' ya all over the fuckin' place has exhausted me."

Jessica felt his arms around her and she shivered as he pulled her down beside him. She wanted nothing more than to claw and scratch her way out of his grasp. The hairs on his forearms tickled her flesh as she stared off at the wall. His body melded into hers and she felt him smelling her.

She closed her eyes as she felt his heartbeat, once again, against her back. She wanted to forget that the man holding her in bed with the beating heart was a psychopathic killer that had mutilated and murdered so many people.

'He hasn't killed you yet. Maybe he won't kill you if you fall asleep. He's been up forever. He's probably to tired to try anything yet. You can relax for now.'

I had so much trouble with this chapter. I'm not exactly happy with it. It ended up being more filler than what I wanted, but I hope you enjoy it either way :)