I DON"T OWN NOES!

quick update, I got a beta reader rather then the horrors I have come to know as spell check. So, I will be reposting the content of my chapters.

Freddy: woop-d-freakin-do, it isn't like anyone reads your crap anyways

I know u.u but for those that do.

Freddy: For those that do, I am so sorry that you sat through this bull till now!

You know what... I am considering killing you of

Freddy:...

Silence, Finally!

Light flickering across her features, Lori's pale face was even paler then any other day. Eyes drawn from nights of partying and her face a tad bit drawn, from a night of alcohol binging. "Hey," she shouted, listening to her voice bouncing about in the bowls of some boiler room, "the hell am I!" She had been there for fifteen minutes just wandering around, and it was as if the place was a ghost land of no life. "What a boring ass dream," she grumbled looking over the edge of a rail. It was already a long night, did it really have to be any longer. Feeling the alcohol in her stomach she felt like she was about to throw up. Naturally a light wait, the few beers she had were driving her utterly mad. Clutching her stomach she felt her body convulsing to get what ever it was out of her as fast as she could. Bowing over, a sea of putrid smelling liquid flew from her mouth in a pool at her feet.

"Oh God," she groaned in disgust feeling another wave over come her.

"Don't you dare," a growl sounded behind her. She spun around to meet knives in her face. Damn that was hot. Freddy stepped back in disgust. He was still riled up from seeing Angel nude, and wanted to hurry up with his kill, gain some strength, and leave back to see Angel. How ever, this girl was emanating so much heat, that he was slightly unnerved by it.

"Sick bitch," he muttered flicking the blade in her face and cutting a lock of hair.

She might have been smashed, but damn what this darkened figure was doing was hot as hell! Shrieking at the sudden flash before her eyes, she shuddered in a sea of pleasure.

'Damn it!' he cursed; he had no time to deal with her. She was hideous grotesque, and damaged by sin; revolted he slashed at her cutting her little black skirt off.

"Ah," she moaned, falling back onto the ground looking up over him. "What are you going to do to me," she tried to sound seductive, but she really just sounded like an utter fool, a disgusting whore.

He could smell her wetness, her pheromones, and they smelled nothing like the sweet watermelon of his Angel; rather it smelled like something rotten mixed with a whole lot of beer. He watched her chest rise as if she was about to throw up again and he drew back, scarred face hitting the light finally, making the girl shriek in an odd mix of terror and pleasure.

Having enough, he mumbled a distant string of peculiar words, and with a quick swing of his arm he slit the girls neck. Body twitching with wide eyes of lust and fear. Disgusted, he spit upon her body, watching the seam on her neck slowly grow with the great flow of blood emanating from it.

If he returned, she wouldn't even touch him, and God he was still horny. Achingly hard, he moved down to the dead woman's entrance, clipping her panties open and giving a good look at her. God it was loose, what was this girl, a giant opening for the world to use? Spitting at her again, he was revolted he even considered taking her cooling body as his own. Besides she would have disappeared a long time ago.

Shifting himself to better his comfort, he returned to his shabby room. The TV was still on, depicting Angel's frail and lifeless body. Still, he couldn't even see her. Shrugging, he moved over to the table grabbing the book. In away he was thankful she wasn't there, the stupid bitch was driving him absolutely mad!

Rounding the edge of the couch to sit down, his eyes caught a glimpse of her body, on its side, head in the middle of the couch, and legs drawn up to her chest. The baggy blanket dress hanging off of her frame, he could see down the make shift dress, groaning from the pain in his groin. "Lazy bitch," he growled, "you are in a coma and you are sleeping." Sitting down by her head he got a better view of her sweet breasts. Torn between taking her and letting her damaged body relax, he rubbed a hand soothingly over his painfully hard bulge.4

What did he care about her? He wanted what he wanted and always got what ever it was he wanted. He stood up quickly, pulling her body up and onto her back, limp and silent. Straddling her, he gently lifted her head, undoing the tie behind her neck- a blade gently traveling down her cheek.

Her body was free, white and perfect, except for the marks he left on her and a terribly bruised pelvis. He frowned trailing a finger over a black and blue bruise on the inside of her thigh. Her heartbeat had changed, and his eyes snapped up to meet hers. They were still broken.

With a low intimidating growl, she closed her eyes shut as fast as she could. Crawling up her front, impatiently he nuzzled his head against her neck. He needed her, needed to be in her, and he needed it all now. Fumbling with his pants, he felt to soft hands stopping his desperate movements, and with a soft easy tug, released him. Shooting a glance up at her, he noticed her eyes open again- but quickly before he could see, she shut them tight.

"Look at me," he rasped in her ear, eyes popping open, full of fear.

Humming a low grumble of approval, he grazed his scarred lips over hers looking for a response but receiving none. A soft whimper from bellow set his eyes to narrow as he lowered himself down against her entrance. Moaning, she reached up, responding late to his kiss, pressing her lips gently over his. Shuddering at her touch, he claimed hers hungrily moving his lips against hers, despite her efforts to keep up with his fervor. On the edge of slamming into her, he held him self-back, instead pressing two long fingers into her entrance, readying her for once. Surprised she almost crawled back away from him on her elbows but kept her self at his mouth. Shuddering with pleasure she felt his painfully hard length rubbing tentatively against her leg. Why was he holding back with her? It made no sense.

Pitying hi, she moved her hands down, taking him gently and rubbing tentatively every inch of him- making sure to tickle his underside. Gasping into her mouth, his hips pumped down into her hands with need as his hands picked up the pace with in her, clutching her sensitive opening with such for she cried out, arching her back beneath him. To her surprise, and his, it was filled with pleasure. His hips jerked furiously between her hands before she finally let go, enforcing a soft groan from Freddy. Looking up at her in confusion, he shuddered at the touch of her hand on his shaft and hip.

Putting him against her clit she was looking down between them. He wanted to see her, see her when he took her. Nudging her up to look at him, she eyed him almost shyly; where did her life go? A flick of it crossed in her eyes as she rubbed his head against her clit, causing him to jerk his hips against her, rubbing against her slick clit. Groaning in utter desperation, she guided him into her carefully until he jerked his hips forward, crashing against her.

Yelping, her arms flew up around him pulling him down with such strength that his hands slipped out from under him. Hips still going at a relatively easy pace, he tried to prop him self up on his elbows to see her eyes. He wanted those eyes; he wanted them back as annoying as they were. There they were, half lidded as soft moans filtered from her lips, sensual and delicious. Claiming her mouth once again, feeling the little moans against his lips, he trailed his kisses down her neck, kissing and bighting all the way.

Picking up the pace, his thrusts gradually grew more urgent, sending the body beneath him, his girl's body, quivering in surges of both pleasure and pain. A soft creaking of the springs, long broken, beneath them began to sound as he pounded her into the couch.

Crying out as he grabbed one of their breasts firmly in one of his hands, his hips jerked violently into her, groaning all the way.

He needed her, he wanted her, and he wanted so much more she clamped down upon him, with a loud, luxurious moan of ecstasy that sent him to his own climax. Thrusting erratically into her, huffing, and grunting, he heard softly as she was coming down, "mmm… Freddy." H just lost it, spreading himself with in her with one final blow.

They lay there for some time, Angels hands under his sweater rubbing his back idly.

"You still hate me," he asked absently, rubbing the soft skin under her breast with his thumb, clawed hardly on her other arm gently touching it.

Silence.

Getting off of her and sitting down on the couch, he pulled her up onto his lap with out question or permission. Still, no protest.

"Why aren't you fighting," he growled, some what annoyed with how passive she had become… and how passive he had been. His gloved hand trailed up, tucking hair behind her ear- sending her shaking in his own arms. Frowning he waited for her, though not patiently, to look at him.

Slowly her eyes rose, still broken and he knew, he knew why she caved. She didn't want to die; she didn't want to leave.

"I can't die… not yet…"