Disclaimer: See first chapter.
Warning: This chapter features disturbing images and thoughts (non-con); some of which are of a sexual nature. Some readers may find this disturbing.
Monsters Do Exist
"Death is not the worst that can happen to men." - Plato
Aiken detached himself from Reid and cringed back from the entrance of the cave, burrowing into a dark crevice as the branches that he had carefully placed over the opening were savagely swept aside and the face of the monster launched itself into the cave. A look of triumph graced its features in a hideous interpretation of a smile. Trembling, Aiken closed his eyes, tricking himself into believing that the act of closing his eyes made him invisible.
Tucking his thumb in his mouth, he hid from the macabre reality before him by pretending that he was safe at home with his mother and brother. Pretending that none of this had happened. Pretending that his uncle had dropped his cousins off to play and that they were outside playing soldiers. Anytime now, his mom would announce that it was time for lunch, and they would come running in to find sandwiches and freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, warm from the oven. His mouth watered as he imagined biting into a soft, chocolaty cookie warm and gooey, melting in his mouth. His stomach growled painfully and he mentally shushed it, still uncomfortably aware of the monster that had invaded his hiding spot. Maybe if he made himself smaller, everything around him would disappear. Maybe he would disappear and take Spencer with him, leaving the monster behind.
Hardy grinned in satisfaction watching the brat scurry away, leaving him face-to-face with Dr. Reid. He had hunted and stalked his prey successfully and now would claim his prize. There was nothing else in the world like hunting and capturing a worthy adversary. He recalled the sweet taste of victory that he had experienced when he and his uncle had sought and finally conquered his first wounded deer, giving him an unquenchable thirst for hunting at the tender age of nine. And though it had happened so many years ago, it felt to Hardy as though it had happened just yesterday.
The deer had finally surrendered itself to them after an hour's chase through the darkening forest and thick drifts of heavy snow. Its trail of blood, staggering black red droplets, had marred the white purity of the freshly fallen snow, leading them directly to it. It had stood before them tall, majestic and proud, breathing laboriously through its foaming nostrils before succumbing to its gaping wound and plunging onto its side in the snow, sending up aftershocks of powdery white puffs around it. Nothing he had ever done since then held for him that same sense of triumphant conquest. Now, however, in the face of Dr. Reid, the memory seemed cheapened somehow. It paled in comparison to this. He had thought, mistakenly, that when his uncle had been killed, those days were over, but now he realized with pristine clarity that that day had just been preparation for the moment that would be his crowning victory. It had ultimately led him to this very space at this very time, kneeling in the muddy underbrush of a forest in Alabama with his most worthy and beautiful rival to date, Dr. Reid, at his mercy.
Dr. Reid's glazed eyes looked up at him, bewitching him, reminding him of that deer. It had held that same knowing look in its eyes. Knowing what Hardy had been about to do, it did not fight back, but valiantly gave into the inevitable. Hardy grasped its antlers in hands that trembled with barely containable excitement; this would be his fist kill. It made eye contact. It did not beg him for life, but rather asked for death; just as Dr. Reid's dark, enchanting eyes were doing now. Listening to his uncle's careful instruction, he took the curved hunting knife and forcefully drew it across the beast's neck, tearing through arteries and sinews. It did not die right away. Hardy and his uncle sat with the dying animal, watching as the dark, inky crimson leaked from its yawning neck, melting the snow with its dying warmth. They watched as it took its final shuddering breath. Tiny white puffs, like smoke, crystallized and hung in the still, cool air, and its wild eyes rolled back in its head.
Grabbing a handful of Dr. Reid's hair in his fist, Hardy forced the man's head back, baring his tender neck to the cool night air. He breathed in the scent of his quarry. The piquant mixture of sweat, blood, fear, and adrenaline excited, no, intoxicated him. Pulling out his hunting knife, he traced it along the man's supple neck, starting at a point just beneath his jaw line, moving the tip of the knife along the ghostly white skin to the sternum. He tickled and provoked the doctor's senses as he meticulously sketched the shadow of a path along the unmarred skin gracing his trachea. He drew no blood, but teased up tiny goose bumps along his captive's flesh.
At first, Dr. Reid did not struggle beneath Hardy's fastidious ministrations. His hands flew to the clammy floor of the cave, lending him balance, when his head was forcefully tipped backwards, fully displaying his neck to the intruder. His heart stilled and quickened its pace in fearful expectancy. Though he had felt the man's heated breath caress his earlobe, it didn't register on his mind that his and Aiken's hiding spot had been discovered until he felt the tip of a knife gently stroke his throat, arousing diminutive prickles along his chilled, damp skin.
Dimly aware of the absence of Aiken's warmth snuggled safely against him, he swallowed in wary anticipation of his death, grateful that the little boy had had the presence of mind to leave him when Hardy had raided their impromptu hide-out. Thankful that the little boy would not bear witness to his execution, he closed his eyes in surrender to imminent death.
Playing the knife along the shapely throat of his victim once more, Hardy drilled the keen tip of his curved blade into Reid's, heretofore, flawless skin just shy of his carotid artery. A breathy grasp from the doctor aroused his senses ten-fold, awakening a long neglected need in him.
The sight of Dr. Reid's blood excited Hardy, bringing him back to the memory of his first kill. When the deer finally ceased to take in life-confirming breath, Hardy's nine-year-old heart skipped a beat and he dipped a finger into the yet warm blood which had pooled beneath the expired beast. Lifting the dripping finger, he stared at it. Mesmerized by the ruby, jewel-like quality of the life-giving fluid, he inserted his blood-coated finger into his mouth and tasted, marveling at how the salty blood seemed to sharpen his senses and give new meaning to his life. A thin line of blood dribbling down his chin, he turned to his uncle and grinned in victory.
Withdrawing the knife from Reid's delicate throat and sheathing it, he watched the ruby-red blood bead on the doctor's pale, white skin. Watched his quarry take in deep, convulsive breaths. Watched awareness register dully in his stunningly beautiful eyes. Watched the doctor mount a sluggish counter-attack as he began to gain mounting alacrity, activating muscles torpid with self-enforced idleness. His heart fluttered in anticipation of their bodies meeting in co-rivalry; Dr. Reid's slim, rigid frame pinned beneath his own sturdy, commanding form coercing and attaining supremacy. An animalistic need flared in his groin, awaking an insatiable hunger. Unlike the deer, Dr. Reid was no unseemly beast.
When Hardy withdrew the knife, Reid exhaled in one long, shuddering breath. Numb with exhaustion and fear, he hadn't even felt the cold steel jab of the knife as it penetrated his skin. His body quaked as he drew much needed air into his lungs. Swallowing greedy mouthfuls of the bolstering substance, Reid opened his eyes. Darkness, cold and unforgiving met his blinking vision, and his throat, still bent backwards in his attacker's unrelenting grip, throbbed as though it had been rent asunder. For a split second, he wondered if he had only imagined taking air into his deprived lungs. He envisioned the razor-sharp edge of the blade being drawn deftly across his throat in one swift, flawless move and the blood seeping hideously from his severed neck, dyeing his once clean, white shirt a bloody red.
His body, bound in the tight confines of the cave for so long, had grown stiff and lethargic. His legs felt as though a million tiny needles were being driven into and out of them at lightning speed. His injured knee and thigh erupted in blinding pain, pulsating through his overextended body. He tried to kick out with his uninjured leg, managing an ineffectual disjointed jerk which caused him to lose balance and slip on the cave floor. His neck lurched back painfully, blurring his vision.
His shoulders burned in raw pain as his arms buckled beneath his shifted weight. Forming an indistinct fist, he threw a weak punch at the arm that continued to hold his head back. A mirthful laugh purred lightly against his ear, causing him to shiver as his assailant grasped his arm and pinned it tightly behind his back, forcing his body to come into unwelcome contact with his attacker. The even throbbing of Hardy's heartbeat hammered against Reid's chest, overriding his own quickening pace. He fought to pull his arm free, panic lending him strength. The man yanked Reid's arm upward sending a jolt of pain through him.
Choking back the sour, corrosive bile which had clawed its way out of his nerve-wracked stomach and lodged itself mid-esophagus, he mustered every ounce of strength he had left. Senses reeling, Reid attempted to pull his other arm up, but it was immobilized, pinned beneath him. Reid could not extricate his unresponsive limbs and Hardy still had his hair in a vice-like grip, painfully baring his neck to the elements. Darkness shadowed Reid's waning state of alertness and burned at the edges of his mind as he vainly pushed against his subjugation with ebbing strength, knowing that if he failed to free himself, his tormentor would first kill him and then Aiken.
Tears gathering in his eyes, he fought against the darkness that sought to free him from this nightmare. Heart beating painfully in his chest, he blinked the tears away and focused on breathing. He had to survive this, if not for himself, then for Aiken. Terror gripped him, as the air he desperately needed tore at his lungs and his body refused to comply with his increasingly frantic commands to free itself. Paralysis benumbed his body, rendering him completely immobile and at the mercy of his attacker's will, though his mind remained starkly aware of what was happening to him as though through a darkening tunnel.
Eyes smoldering with lust, Hardy shifted his attention from containing his quarry to Reid's inviting throat. Pausing to revel in the clarity of the blood which had begun to pool and spider in the wrinkled crevices of his victim's neck, he lowered his mouth and bent to taste it. Tenderly stroking the smooth, moist skin with his coarse, wet tongue, he relished the tangy quality of the blood. Unlike his first kill, Dr. Reid titillated his senses, causing a raw heat to build deep within his gut. He must either indulge himself now by sampling of his prey or be consumed by his wonton appetite which domineered his consciousness, tyrannized his sole being, and stimulated his flesh.
At first he merely taunted his taste buds, dabbing at the bloody wound tentatively with the tip of his tongue. Taking only minimal traces of the doctor's heady, life-affirming elixir, he noted that it too, served to sharpen his senses, though more so than that of the deer. Unlike his first conquest, Dr. Reid's blood awakened a predatory itch which had too long been suppressed.
Savoring the coppery taste of the doctor's blood, he lapped greedily at the minor wound with his tongue. Senses reeling with hunger lust, he placed his lips around the wound and began to suckle at the bruising laceration. A strangled gasp escaped his quarry's lips. Warming with pleasure, he increased the fervency with which he nursed at the torn flesh. Letting go of the doctor's hair, he cradled the back of his neck with one hand and used the other to draw the writhing doctor's torso upward, flush with his own. Pulling him slightly from the shelter of the cave, Hardy lowered him to the earth, oblivious to his strangled protests and the awkward angle at which the doctor's abused limbs bent beneath him.
Shock and confusion sent a jolt of appalled electricity through Reid and his heart slammed viciously against his rib cage when Hardy's tongue brushed his neck. His mind demanded an answer for the alien sensation that started at his throat and kindled its way through his tense nerves, setting them ablaze.
What the hell? Reid's dazed mind refused to believe what his abused senses were telling him. This is not happening to me. This is not happening. This isn't real. My mind is playing tricks on me. Open your eyes damn it, wake up! Surely he was only imagining the demanding pull of full, rough lips pressed flush against his aching throat. Come on Spencer, wake up! You have to wake up. Aiken needs you. A pained groan escaped him as Hardy's lips chafed his throat, forcing his beleaguered mind to grasp hold of the inconceivable reality that he was so desperately struggling to convince himself was not real.
He bulked, thrashing against his assailant when Hardy's unyielding arms forced their bodies to meet. He fought to remain erect, even as his body was pressed down onto the cold, stony floor of the cave. His pinned arm twisted painfully beneath him and his other arm, bereft of his weight flew out to his side as his shoulder was slammed to the hard, rocky surface. He frenetically commanded his unresponsive body to flee and when it failed to comply, he stopped fighting and wished he were somewhere else.
"Mommy!" The monster was nearby. Aiken cried out in the darkness as the cold wind whipped at his hair and threatened to pull his glasses from his face. It was well past lunch time. He should already have returned home by now, but for some reason, no matter how hard and fast he ran; his house kept fading away from him.
He could see the front porch just a few feet away, almost within his reach, but each time he attempted to enter his house, it would shrink away from him. He was cold and hungry and could feel the icy blue eyes of the cruel monster, glinting in the light of the full moon, boring into him. His stomach made terrible gurgling sounds and the pain of hunger stabbed his insides like thousands of sharp knives.
"Braden!" He called, reaching a hand out to the retreating form of his brother. The monster's guttural breathing echoed in his ears, making him dizzy with fear. Its fetid breath stank of rotted flesh and Aiken gagged, running as far away as he could from the monstrosity.
It was as though he were being pulled back by some invisible force as he tried to make his way to his mother and brother on the front porch. They stood together, looking for Aiken, but not seeing him; even as he waved his arms frantically in front of them. Braden looked for him, shading his eyes with one hand. His mother cupped her hands around her mouth calling out for him, but not a sound issued from her lips.
Though he could not see the horrible beast, he could feel its shadowy presence and he prized one eye open to sneak a peek at it. Fearful that the beast would catch him looking, he kept his eye open a mere slit.
It was only a few feet away, but it seemed to have forgotten about him and was crouched low over someone else, sniffing at him with widened nostrils. Unable to tear his eye away from the grisly scene before him, Aiken watched in mounting horror as the monster shook out one of its razor sharp claws and scratched the man, making him bleed. The monster started to lick at the blood coming from the wound it had made and Aiken slammed his eye firmly shut. Pulling his head closer to his chest, he attempted to drown out the ghoulish scene.
He clasped his hands securely over his ears to shut out the revolting sounds as the monster ate its victim. Hot tears pricked the back of his eyelids. He knew that when the monster was finished with its meal, it would come after him. It was terribly hungry after all, hadn't it eaten his mother and brother earlier that day?
The memory of their blood, spilled in the kitchen and the monster standing hungrily over them invaded his mind. He forcefully pushed it away, preferring to picture them on the porch watching, waiting, and calling for him. Unwilling to remember what the monster had done to them, how the monster had broken them, how he had taken them away from him, he imagined them standing on the front porch, waving and calling out to him, oblivious to the monster which lurked nearby.
Wishing he could go home, wishing he could wake up from this nightmare, wishing that his mom would pick him up and smother him with one of her extra big hugs which always made him feel better, he lulled himself into a fitful trance-like state. Waiting for the monster to devour him, he kept up a shaky mantra of, "Monsters do not exist…monsters do not exist…monsters do not exist…"
Braden had told him that one night, when he thought there was one lurking beneath his bed. He had been too scared to leave the safety of his bed, but Braden had grabbed a flashlight and crawled into bed with him. He had rubbed his back, assuring him that monsters did not exist. He had even, much to Aiken's horror, flashlight in hand, jumped down from the bed. Crouching low, he had swept the light under it and had declared it to be monster free. Then, he had climbed back into bed and sat with him, rubbing his back until he fell asleep.
No longer satisfied with the taste of the younger man's blood alone, Hardy positioned himself between the man's bent knees, so that the doctor unwittingly straddled his kneeling form. He freed Reid's pinned arm from beneath him, evoking a sigh of amelioration from the young man. He lowered his face to the doctor's, gazing intently into his timorous eyes, putting his hands on either side of the man's face, forcing him to look into his eyes when he attempted to escape his scrutiny.
"Don't close your eyes doctor," he growled low in warning, freeing one hand to unsheathe his knife and press the tip of it into the young man's side. He smiled when the fearful, amber eyes snapped open, once again looking into his own. Turned on by the younger man's nearly imperceptible flinch, he traced Reid's trembling lips with a graceful, yet assertive finger, while continuing to apply steady pressure against his side with the knife.
"Move again and the knife could slip," Hardy taunted when Reid jerked away from his touch, "I'd hate to mar that fine physique of yours before we've had our fun." His finger resumed its leisurely perusal of the contours of the lush lips which quivered beneath his tender graze of their full, pallid features. Hardy wondered at their exquisite beauty, chiseled in perfection. He imagined them with a fine blush of color, plump from exertion rather than dulled as they were with fear and exhaustion.
He tugged at the lower lip, teasing the lips apart with his index finger. Voluptuous and virginal, they roused Hardy's thirst and he inserted his finger, groping, prizing at the teeth to gain entrance. When the doctor refused him entry, he dug the knife sharply into his side without drawing blood and Reid gasped in pain, allowing him access. He probed the mouth with his index finger, grazing playfully over the doctor's tongue before pulling his finger out and placing it in his own mouth, luxuriating in the saccharine taste.
Reid balked at the nearness of Hardy, trying to pull away from him when he positioned himself between his bent knees. Get away, get away, get away!...his panicked mind grasped for some control over his uncooperative mouth, desperately needing to be heard by the monster who loomed over him. When Hardy freed his pinned arm, his mouth once again demonstrated disobedience by expressing relief. Get away from me! He attempted again, the frantic words reverberating in his mind, in bold red letters, as his mouth opened and his vocal chords failed to capitulate. Why couldn't he even make his own mouth respond?
Ice blue eyes pierced his, searching, wanting. Yearning, they pulled at his mind, freezing his thoughts as they threatened to consume him with their hunger. He looked away, only to have rough hands wrest his head in place. Not able to bear the scrutinizing gaze any longer, Reid closed his eyes. The memory of the steely blue orbs emblazoned in graphic detail, hovered, faceless in his mind. Hardy's commanding voice and the sharp jab of a knife against his side forced Reid to open his eyes.
Oh God no, Hardy's finger was caressing his lips, Stop! Stop! Stop! Reid wrenched his head away, unmindful of the knife pressing into his ribcage until Hardy nudged it against him. Hardy's taunting words echoed in his mind, numbing him, "…the knife could slip…before we've had our fun…the knife could slip…the knife could slip…the knife could slip…before we've had our fun…before we've had our fun…before…fun…" His vision swam and he breathed through his nose, ordering his heart to stop racing in an attempt to regain control over at least one aspect of his body. He submitted to Hardy's manipulation of his lips, hesitating when the man's finger demanded entry into his mouth.
A sharp dig of the knife had him gasping for air and Hardy's finger gained entry, stroking his tongue. Reid resisted the urge to bite down on the finger, knowing that such an act would result in the knife plunging deep into his side. He forced his face to remain neutral when Hardy pulled his finger out and placed it into his own mouth, sucking on it, a revolting look of pleasure on his face causing Reid's stomach to churn.
Desiring more, Hardy placed greedy lips on the doctor's mouth, bearing down on him. His lips, hot and needy pressed against Reid's. He nibbled playfully at the younger man's bottom lip. Alternating between the bottom and upper portion of Reid's mouth, he pulled and sucked on the unresponsive lips until they became pliant and warmed under his persistent demands. Forcing the younger man's lips apart with his own ravenous ones, he shared a breath with the doctor before manipulating the now supple lips with his own in the semblance of a kiss. Desperate for entrance, he drove his tongue into Reid's mouth.
Lips locked on Reid's, Hardy allowed his tongue to roam the younger man's mouth. Gasping and sputtering with pain when the seemingly yielded doctor bit down hard on his tongue, he pulled out. Rolling the abused tongue around in his mouth, he tasted the tangy, coppery blood, sucking on it.
Seething, he glared down at the younger man and slapped him, hard, happy when the doctor had to turn his head to spit out blood. He pinched Reid's chin cruelly in fingers bent on causing pain and raised the man's head up, sneering into his flushed face, "Do that again and I will gut you," he promised in a whisper, drawing the blade across Reid's cheek, carving a thin red line in the otherwise unblemished skin, "Do you understand?" He released Reid's chin, letting his head fall back to the rock littered cave floor when the doctor jerkily nodded.
Stop! Please stop…Reid's mind begged as Hardy's foul lips touched his. He wanted to push the man away, but knew that if he did, he would be stabbed. I don't want this. Please don't. He felt tears pushing at the back of his eyes, but refused to let them fall.
Reid cringed at the shock as their tongues met and the part of his mind that stubbornly insisted that this was not happening was instantly overruled. Oh God no! No! Reid bit down hard on Hardy's invading tongue, in spite of his fear of the man's knife. No,no,no,no,no…what have I done? Terror at what his assaulter would do to him as the man pulled his tongue out of his mouth mounted when he saw the look of anger that darkened the man's features.
The slap that Hardy delivered drew blood from where his teeth bit the edge of his tongue and cheek. Stars, bright, whirled in a canvas of darkness, temporarily stealing his vision as he turned his head to spit out the acrid blood that had quickly gathered in his mouth.
Panting in fear, as Hardy's bruising grip brought his face up, he steeled himself for the burning pain he was sure would erupt in his side. I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I didn't mean to…I'll be good…I promise…I won't do that again…just…just please…don't hurt me…don't hurt me…I promise I'll be good…He mutely promised, humiliated by his childlike pleas.
When Hardy drew the knife across his cheek, he didn't even feel the blade slice through his skin, tension robbing him of normal sensation. He stared in fascination at the thin line of blood glistening on the edge of the knife, heart beating rapidly in his chest, wondering what Hardy was going to do to him next. Sorry….sorry….sorry…rebounded in his muddled mind.
His head slammed against the stones of the cave floor when Hardy released his chin and he once again felt stars prickle at the edge of his conscious. Sorry…Hardy's hateful visage swam in front of his face once again, the look of consuming desire in his eyes had Reid dazedly scrambling, at least in his mind, to get away from his captor only to have the man pin him to the ground with his weight as he placed hot, lustful lips on his mouth.
Watching the emotions play over the doctor's flushed cheeks, Hardy imagined what it would be like to have him in his bed, completely bent to his will. The memory of his uncle's pride as he made his first kill, their culminating celebration of the event afterward, and the mounting of the deer head over the fireplace all faded in glory when compared to the thrill that coursed through his veins right now as he watched the doctor try to compose himself. He pictured him in his bed, compliant beneath him as he exhausted himself making love to his lithe figure.
This small taste of Dr. Reid barely served as an appetizer for his hunger, but it would tide him over until he could transport the doctor and the boy who continued to huddle in a dark corner of the cave to his home.
He once again placed probing lips against Reid's set mouth, determined to establish dominance, the picture of the doctor lying beneath him on his bed spurring him on to conquer the young FBI agent. Using his tongue, he entered Reid's mouth, forcefully prying the closed lips apart. He used his tongue to explore the doctor's mouth, brushing against the smooth, yet uneven ridges of his teeth, savoring the briny taste of his tongue, he sucked on it, coaxing it into his mouth, reveling at the valiant, yet futile resistance he received. He drank deeply before returning the tongue, rejoicing in the tart taste of blood that lingered in the doctor's mouth. He marveled at the younger man's sensitivity as tremors wracked the slender body. Wrapping his arms around the doctor, he quelled the younger man's resistance, allowing him no room to move as their bodies became intertwined in the facsimile of a lover's embrace.
His own tongue lingered, exploring the back of the young man's throat, the roof of his mouth, the smoothness of his cheeks. He began to familiarize himself with the doctor's mouth, noting how the thin angular look of his jaw belied the inviting cavernous depths within. Laboring with his tongue, he thrilled when the doctor's body betrayed itself and responded with a shiver of humiliated pleasure as his body started to reply to Hardy's invasion in similitude, unintentionally returning and deepening the undesired kiss.
He had known, since he had first laid eyes on the delicate, lissome body of the young doctor, that this very moment would happen; that Dr. Reid would crave him as much as he did. That by sheer power of his will alone, he could make the doctor ache for him. That he could take pleasure from and give pleasure to the attractive young, virile body as no one else would ever be able to. He was the only one for Dr. Reid, and he would prove it to the man over time. He nibbled on his lower lip before pulling back, allowing him to breathe.
In spite of his terror-strengthened efforts, Reid's tongue was eventually drawn away from his own mouth and into his attacker's. No! His hitched sob was drowned out as Hardy guided his less experienced tongue on a tour of his mouth. Stop! He attempted to push away with his feet, sending billows of pain through his body, reminders of the injuries to his thigh and knee. Get off of me! He was trapped. He struggled to breathe; gagging as the brute mutely swallowed his tongue. No…no….no….no…no…no…no…no….no…no…no…no…no…no…no…no…no…no…please…no…let me go!
He tried to push away, but was drawn closer as the violation of his mouth continued undaunted by his efforts. Stop, please, please stop! I don't want this. Arms wrapped around him like a straight jacket. Stop! Sure, capable hands fiendishly cupped his lower back, pushing his hips closer to his abuser, oddly massaging his strained muscles with each demanding pull on his mouth. Finally, his assailant released his tongue, but continued the invasion of his mouth. Stop….stop…
Reid's body betrayed him by responding to Hardy's demands on it. His groin heated as if in anticipation of sex and his mouth responded to the pull of Hardy's lips and tongue by returning his abuser's kiss. No,no,no,no,no….oh God no! This is not happening…this is not happening….this is not happening…what is wrong with me? I don't want this... I don't want this…I don't want this…tears streamed down his face as his body continued its act of self-degradation in response to Hardy's manipulation.
"You like this don't you doctor? I knew you wanted this from the moment I first saw you," the mumbled voice of his accuser barely reached his ears, as the words mingled on his lips with the deepening kiss. I… I didn't want it…I didn't…Shame colored his cheeks and coursed through his body as he fought to quell the urges which had been solicited by Hardy's expert hands and mouth.
When he was finally released, Reid trembled in fear and shame. The persistent swelling of his groin refusing to be curbed, he dared not to meet his assailant's eyes. I didn't…I didn't want this…The acrid taste of Hardy, the smell of his sweaty need, and the knowledge of the man's mouth still fresh in his mind, he turned his head away, gagging. I didn't want this…His stomach made an abortive attempt to empty itself on the cave floor and he dry-heaved onto the unforgiving stone. His gut clenched in agony as a lacerating spasm tore through him.
His back was pressed painfully against the hard, rocky surface of the earth. Wet, heated kisses peppered his neck. Deft fingers unbuttoned his shirt, baring his chest to the cold elements. No, this is not happening. Reid closed his eyes tight against the darkness as the skilled fingers traveled from his neck, along his bare chest, to the waistband of his slacks. This is not happening. Things like this do not happen to FBI agents. This is not real. This is not happening. This can't be happening. Please stop…I don't want this…I don't want this…no….no…no…no…no…stop…please stop…I don't want this…I don't…
"Shhh," Hardy pressed a finger to Reid's trembling lips as his mental protests bubbled forth in frantic whispers. He lowered his mouth to Reid's, swallowing the younger man's nearly inaudible objections with a fervent kiss.
"Shhh," Hardy mumbled against Reid's parted lips, weaving his fingers through the doctor's brown silky hair, he deepened the kiss. He allowed his other hand to travel downward, along the outside of Reid's pants, delighting in the coarse texture of them. He methodically rubbed his hand along the inner part of Reid's thigh imagining that the doctor lay open and bare to him without the constrictive barrier of clothing between them. All in due time.
The low, rasping growls of the monster reached Aiken's ears and he crushed his hands tighter against them. Wishing that Braden were here to soothe him and shine his light to make the monster go away, Aiken clung to his words of assurance, "Monsters do not exist…monsters do not exist…monsters do not exist…" Maybe if he said it often enough, the monster would disappear. But monsters did exist, there was living proof only a few feet away and Braden himself had been devoured by one. Wishing he could be as brave as his older brother, Aiken pressed his hands even harder against his ears, though it pained him. Biting his lower lip, he scrunched into a smaller ball, hoping the monster wouldn't see him.
This isn't real, Reid assured himself, even as Hardy's mouth bore down on his, drowning out his protests, sending his body conflicting messages as pleasure and mortification collided and vied for dominance over him. His body bucked upward in response to the hand that Hardy rubbed along his inner thigh. A moan of delight mingled with self-loathing escaped through his occupied lips, burned his loins. This isn't real. This isn't happening. This can't be happening. This isn't happening. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. Someone, please make him stop. Please, please make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Please…please…please…please….please….make it stop… make it stop ... stop … stop… please …stop...please stop…please stop…please…please…please…stop…please…
Hardy pulled away from the kiss, grinning in amusement as Reid babbled soundlessly, panting beneath him. The young man's cheeks were pink from exertion, his lips tender and bruised, his eyes haunted and unfocused.
Straddling Reid's naked torso, Hardy took hold of his hand-carved hunting knife, expertly using the tip of it to trace the features of the doctor's smooth, angelic face. It would be so easy to mar the perfect, unblemished porcelain skin, make a scratch along his other cheek to match the one he had made earlier. So easy to tarnish the attractive figure beneath him with his own tainted flesh. So easy to strip him of the vestiges of his innocence. No, he wouldn't take him here, though he longed to complete his exploration of the doctor's body, he would wait until he was alone with him. Though the Aiken brat continued to huddle in the corner, curled around himself like a kitten, unaware of what was happening around him, he wanted to experience Dr. Reid in complete solitude in the sanctity of his own bed.
Excitement, like that of a child on Christmas morning seeing beautifully wrapped presents overflowing beneath a glowing tree, stole his breath away. The anticipation of unwrapping Dr. Reid, a present meant only for him, stirred up butterflies of excitement in his stomach. He longed to uncover the matchless, well-wrapped delicacies little-by-little. To master each and every delicate intricacy of the man who wept silently beneath him. To reveal the gift, which had so magnanimously been bestowed upon him, carefully, meticulously unwrapping the finely adorned package that was Dr. Reid, bit-by-bit.
"There's plenty of time to make you mine Dr. Reid," he planted a kiss on the man's forehead; "no one will be looking for you here." Sheathing the knife, he moved from the man's torso. Straightening Reid's bent knees, he straddled his hips.
It was getting harder to breath, Hardy 's weight all but cut off his air supply, making it difficult for Reid to take the precious air into his oxygen-starved lungs. Please, please help me. It hurts, oh God it hurts…I can't breathe…I can't breathe…It hurts…Get off me… I can't breathe! He voicelessly screamed in mind numbing pain, stars shooting through the blackness that refused to allow him to find solace within its inky depths. Shuddering with cold and shock; Reid retreated into the safety of his mind, pulling in on himself. He attempted to shrink away from Hardy. Wishing he could disappear, Reid closed his eyes as Hardy shifted his weight, straddling his hips, allowing Reid to take in deeper breaths of the oxygen that had temporarily been denied him.
Aiken couldn't help it, when the sounds from the monster quieted, he cracked an eye open to see if the monster had finished its meal and was coming for him. "Monsters do not exist…monsters do not exist…" he faltered as the famished monster bent itself over its prey, once again licking and tasting, biting into the soft flesh.
Snapping his eye shut once more, one of the tears he had been holding back streaked down his dirt-encrusted face. "Monsters do exist Braden…they do…they do…and this one is going to get me and eat me…"
A strange, hitching sound captured Reid's attention, temporarily diverting his focus from what was happening to his own imprisoned body. In a darkened corner of the cave lay Aiken. Reid had almost forgotten about him. Small and vulnerable; he was curled up tight in a ball.
Reid wanted to reach out and comfort the small boy, but his body was no longer his own to do with as he pleased. It lay broken and trapped beneath a man whose demands commanded appalling responses from it. At least he hasn't…oh God…don't…don't…don't…NO! No! No! Don't! Stop!
Dr. Reid's body was ready for him, he could feel it. His own body was primed, why wait any longer? He hadn't waited to take that deer down. Why should he wait to take Dr. Reid? Hardy fumbled with the button on the doctor's slacks. His fingers suddenly fidgety with impatience, the zipper stuck halfway. Anger and need escalating, he let out a growl of frustration, tugging at the zipper which refused to budge.
"Dr. Reid!".............................................................."Spencer!"........................................................................."Aiken!"
............................................."Dr. Reid!"........................................................."Aiken!"
.........."Spencer!".............................................."Aiken Randall!"
Loud cries split the night air, breaking Hardy's concentration, angering him. Alerted to the nearness of his rivals, he reluctantly removed his hand from Dr. Reid's waistband. Unsheathing his knife, and withdrawing his gun, he threatened the bewildered man and cringing boy to remain quiet. Maneuvering Dr. Reid's body awkwardly into the cave, he placed branches over the entrance in an attempt to recreate Aiken's camouflage before crouching off to the side to wait for the trespassers.
"Dr. Reid!" Damn, why wasn't he answering? Rossi stood, the beam of his flashlight playing in first one, then another direction as he searched for the doctor and young boy.
"Aiken!" Prentiss tried again, voice carrying and breaking on the wind.
"Dr. Reid! Spencer!" Peters called from another direction.
"Aiken! Dr. Reid!" The hairs on the back of Carter's neck stood up, what was that? A muffled noise reached his straining ears. Itching with nervous tension, he squatted, clenching his gun in a sweaty palm, he cast a wary glance around the shaded forest. There it was again. It almost sounded like the soft mewl of a kitten. Eyes narrowed in concentration, he inched toward the sound, oblivious to the smarting of his tense muscles. Oblivious to the stark eyes that stalked him and the gun trained unwaveringly on his stealthy form, he continued forward, determined to find the source of the sound and hopefully Dr. Reid and Aiken.