Humpty Dumpty

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

And all the King's horses, and all the King's men,

Couldn't put Humpty back together again.

As the fog began to clear in her head, Riot's eyes watered. From pain or fear, she wasn't sure. But every one of her joints ached and her muscles felt as if they were pulled tight, ready to snap.

"Riot?" She had only just noticed she wasn't alone in the room, and the thought that it might be that guy from before nearly sent her into cardiac arrest. "You're awake." It was more of a question-like statement. She ignored his persisting words, trying to get her to give him a reason to hit her... not that he would need one.

She was sitting on the ground, that much she knew, and the man reached out despite her flinch and propped her up properly against what she assumed was the bed, one stiff leg folded under her. Her wrists were bound together with a rope so thick that not even a saw could slice through the rough stuff. And her ankle was connected to one of the metal bars protruding from the foot of the bed.

"Riot," He tried again bringing a warm, wet washrag to dab at her face and wipe off the grime that was clinging to her like a second coat. "You need a bath." His nose wrinkled as if to try and prove a point.

This was the man, she told herself, that called her and made Skylar leave.

No, you made him leave.

The husky voice was the same as it was through the phone though the light, playful tone didn't seem possible to be harbored in a man like him.

Abruptly, the man stopped and turned his head to the doorway just before light knocking echoed through the small bedroom. "What!" Was that a fucking hiss! Riot started to struggle in fruitless attempts to remove herself from the insane asylum escapee that had locked his sights on the unluckiest woman in the world.

And damn did she curse the frigid bitch, lady luck at times like these.

The only notice he gave to her fight was the slight inclination of his head in her direction. He didn't look at her, but instead rose reluctantly to his feet and stalked dangerously to the door. He glanced over his shoulder and pinned her with a gaze that said more than words could ever achieve. 'Move and I'll fucking kill you'.

That glare stayed with her even as he left. It was looming her and taunting her. Showing her all the horrible things he could do while his eyes screamed death with an eerie calm.

She curled in on herself, knees tucked to her chest, face protected by her rough jeans that were probably caked with mud and dirt.

Riot could hear the loud thunk of boot after boot, step after step, as her impending torture grew closer. Immediately she began to tug at her bonds with a renewed vigor. By the time the door swung open she was a frantic mess.

Blood dripped from her wrists that she had rubbed raw. A fleshy mess of red.

Her breathing was uneven and shallow as her wide eyes swept wildly around the small room like a caged animal finally coming to a stop on the blank face of her capturer. "What are you doing?" His voice wasn't angry, merely curious. But that was what made the words all the more scarier.

She couldn't speak around the thick lump in her throat that was choking her words. Or maybe that lump was really just her heart that had jumped from her chest to make a grand appearance.

"I-I-"

"You what?"

She didn't answer. Only ducked her head.

She felt suffocated by the dark and deadly aura that was surrounding him. Lashing out and coiling around her throat. Squeezing and Crushing.

And when he touched her-

She screamed.

**Riot's P.O.V.**

I couldn't see.

I sat, huddled in a corner, dirty clothes dirtier now because he had touched them. And he was filthy.

He had left a while ago, leaving me with a look that was akin to hurt and the soft promise to bring me food and clean clothes later.

The door cracked and a shivering woman stumbled through. I jumped and tried to make myself look as small as possible. Invisible almost.

She didn't even notice me until I (stupidly) demanded a name. And no, my voice did not just crack from fear. I just needed to cough.

Bullshit.

Her eyes were almost as wide as mine, red and full of tears. Her face was blotchy and her hair a brown mess. There were bruises dancing down the curve of her jaw and her lips was split in what looked like three or more places. There were dark shadows under her eyes making her look a whole lot older than I'm sure she really was.

She never answered but shied away from me in fear, eyes darting around the room, searching for something. And she whimpered, liked a kicked dog.

I didn't even see what she had grabbed before she dashed out. Was she someone like me? Had she been kidnapped by the man and beaten? Was that going to happen to me? Was I going to look like that? Like her?

I needed to get of there.

Now.

I began to chew my way through the thick ropes, going so fast my teeth began to cry.

But I just told them to suck it up.

The ropes were gone and I was sneaking around the room, trying to be stealthy, trying to find a way out, but of course, there was non.

Minutes past before I finally gave up and grabbed a large wooden box, the corners dipped with gold. Who cares that he was a vampire? I was going to bash his head in and run like hell.

I sat, crouched, by the door in the shadows waiting for the moment he would open the door. My muscles burned with the strain and I had to stretch them constantly to stay on my toes. Literately.

Hours later, the door finally opened and my target slipped in, quiet as a blood sucking mouse, and glanced to the bed where he had last left me, curled on the covers with only a knot holding my hands.

Just a little more... I was surprised he hadn't found me already... But what did it matter when he was slowly, step by step, going further into the room.

I paused debating on whether just to sneak quietly from the room or hit him when he whipped around, eyes a blaring, angry red, before I slammed the corner of the box in his vulnerable, soft throat because that was the only place I could reach.

And then I dropped the box and ran. Ran, ran, and ran.

The door was right there, my hand moving fast to unlatch the chain lock so high up on the door and slammed my hand down on the knob.

Nothing.

It was still locked. "Dammit!" I wailed in a whisper, and tears flooded my eyes as my fingers fumbled trying to get a hold on the second lock. I jerked on the knob again, my heart jumping into my chest as it actually opened this time!

And then a large hand slammed into the wood and shoved the door shut in my face. "NO!" I tried to scream. "PLEASE HELP ME!" I wanted to say.

But life's a bitch.

A hand closed around my throat, squeezing so hard I thought I heard something in my neck crack, and the cruel man dipped his head to whisper in my ear.

"Nah-ah-ah, my little kitty. You're a house pet, and house pets can't go outside. Isn't that right, Riot Love?" My nails clawed and scratched at his hand, and he laughed, a dark sound that chilled your blood, sinking past your bones and settling in the marrow. Torturing you.

My mouth opened and closed, gapping like a fish out of water. My lungs were trying to inflate but could only crumple like beaten paper bags in their defeated misery. Then it was over, just like that.

He dropped me to the floor, and drop he did. I hit the ground with a good thump and a desperately heaving chest, one hand bracing myself and the other cradling my aching neck. Yep, that mean of escape was definitely a no-no. A no-no the size of freaking Alaska!

He knelt beside me and reached out hesitantly. "Dammit Riot, I'm sorry kitten." He pulled me to his chest, my face against his shirt. "I'm sorry."

I wasn't sure what to think, really. Maybe he was beyond crazy. Maybe.... maybe he was going to actually kill me, and then it wouldn't matter how much he apologized. Because well, dead was dead.

Unless you were a vampire of course, and as the thought flickered throughout my mind, I froze so suddenly it surprised the man holding me. The crazy man with no name. What if he- what if he wasn't just a vampire?

How hard had I hit him with the box? I had hit him in the throat hadn't I? But he was talking and breathing fine. He had recovered in seconds...

I stared up into his face, inches from my own, and searched for the signs.

"You've figured it out haven't you?" He finally asked, the question so calm and easy, like he was discussing dinner. "You always were smart, weren't you Riot?" He gave a chuckle, his husky voice so beautiful and frighting. "Yes, I've been watching you." Well if that didn't make my day... "I've been watching you for a long time." His hand began to stroke my hair, fingering the ends thoughtfully.

He ended up leaning against the wall and situated me easily in his lap.

"You know, I had my sights set on you before Citiome contacted me. I'm a hit man you see. I assassinate people, have been ever since I turned six." I didn't want to hear this. I didn't want to hear about how a young boy was turned into a murderer. "But I was a special child. I'm not like those bitches that fancy themselves your friends. I was not born a vampire," He sighed. "In fact, I have no bit of vampire blood in me at all."

"You look shocked." He nodded, his gaze tuned faraway. "I knew the moment that I saw you, you would be able to silence Him."

"Who is 'Him'?" I asked, almost afraid as to what I would hear.

He looked down at me, a frown on his face. And he said, "My Dragon." Like it made all the sense in the world.

"I was right you know." He pet one of the dark bruises coloring my arm and goosebumps broke out about my skin. Where was my hoody when I needed it? "He's quiet. If only you knew what your voice did to him- he stops roaring."

I gulped, and then cleared my throat. "What does- what does he roar for, exactly?"

"Blood." He closed his eyes, a coy smile teasing at his lips and my gut twisted just a little more. "Lots and lots of blood." But he stood suddenly, holding me in his arms as if I weighed nothing at all.

He made his way back in the direction of the room but passed it as I searched the hotel room, trying to find some clue as to where I was and how far away from home I could be. And then he stepped into a bathroom, the tub already filled and steam rising from the water.

"Um, I'm not sure-"

"You smell like them." And that was all he said.

He sat me on the toilet and reached for my jeans though I jerked away, panic making me dizzy. There was no-fucking-way that I was going to let him strip me.

He hissed and flashed a mouthful of fangs, his eyes glowed so red, they illuminated his face. I caught a glimpse of the Dragon he claimed to harbor and it shocked me to the core.

"Do you fear me, little one?" He taunted, forcing me to his chest with a bruising hand clutched to my arm. Nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck, he breathed out. "You should."

His fingers found the button and zipper on my jeans and pulled them off in one smooth motion, dropping them near the door. When he came back for my shirt I fought to keep it on despite how aggravated he was becoming.

He snarled and finally gave up, lifting me and eased me in the steaming tub. The remaining bit of my clothes stuck to my skin and made movement difficult as the Dragon knelt beside the bathtub.

He reached behind him and pulled a rag from the counter. He wet it, began to stroke my face, and pulled away thick grime and leaving behind soft clear skin.

He reached for me again and even though we fought, water splashing the floor, it still ended with me shirtless and him satisfied. I scowled at the tiled wall and covered my chest the best I could because my bra had been the next to go.

His raked his eyes over my naked skin and proceeded to move on to washing my hair. He slipped lean fingers through my my wet hair and messaged my scalp, mindful of his nails.

He doused my head with water until I could barely breath and all the soap was gone. He pulled the plug and the water whirled down the drain, emptying the tub as the Dragon struggled to pull a wet and reluctant me from the bath.

He dressed me with clothes I hadn't noticed before. They sat, harmless in a folded stack.

He patted me dry with a towel and plopped the clothes in my lap, and then he left the room, closing the door behind him.

I inspected the clothes, black lacy panties with a collared shirt that smelled a lot like the Dragon. No bra no pants. And all I had were filthy jeans along with my own soaking bra. Neither of which I could wear without being uncomfortable.

But I wasn't going for comfort, so I grabbed my jeans and was ready to pull them on when the Dragon entered the bathroom.

He shook his head and wrestled the jeans away from me and lifted me into his arms. We left the bathroom, the light still on and my clothes still thrown in random corners of the room.

Seconds later we were in the bedroom, covers unmade, the lights off, and he closed the door, encasing us in darkness.

Okay, my apologies for the wait, but school's been hell.

I made swim team though!! ;)

Not that you guys really care, right? LOL.

Okay, I do realized how short this is, but it was either post it short,

or not for another month while I try to find

something to write about.

Andd, guys what guys, the story is almost over.

Just a couple more chapters, depending on the length.

I want to thank you for staying with the (yucky) story as long as you have.

I know it could use a hand of help the size of Europe but my friend, who SOMETIMES proof-reads can't get my story back in under a week.

(Yeah Sam, that was for you! :] )

Okayy, now, thank you my lovely reviewersss:

1. c.a.s. 1404

2. arya-v

3. Vendetta 101

4. Berry nYaPpY Rui

5. rocktheroxie

6. 'Al-ee-sin'

7. vampireangelwitch

8. BlueLightning

9. penprincesswrite 123

10. rainy-days-don't-go-away

-Ashley :)