AN- This one is a doozy of a chapter. It has everything you've come to expect from this story. We have death, piracy, bloodlust, sex, justice, murder, blood, torture. That being said, there is a trigger warning for this chapter. If you've made this far then I think you should be able to handle it. Enjoy this sexy and disturbing chapter I guess...
Down the Rabbit Hole
Chapter Nine
Killian had instructed Timothy and his own cabin boy to see Emma safely to the Jolly Roger. There she could remove her blood-stained clothing and wash up while she recovered from the battle. For Killian, there was still much work to be done to oversee the transfer of the ship's hold to the Jolly.
All around him the men of the Jolly Roger were celebrating their triumph as they began to open one of the barrels of rum that had been brought on deck, preparing for its swift relocation.
"How many barrels do we have Mr. Flynn?" Killian asked his boatswain, his foot perched on a slight incline, his forearm resting over his upper leg as he gripped the hilt of his sword.
"I think, just over eight, well seven barrels of untapped rum…" He looked over his head toward the men as they clinked glasses. "Thirteen casks of wine and another ten casks of ale. She was well stocked when we took her." He provided the inventory to his captain.
"Excellent." Killian nodded before stepping and rounding his boatswain, clapping him on the back. "I expect this to be loaded onto the ship after you've plundered the food and weapon stores." He instructed. "Move them as swiftly as possible. I don't want to spend any longer upon this infernal vessel any longer than I have to."
"Aye captain." He replied.
"And Mr. Flynn…" Killian dropped his voice down lowly, glancing around the deck to make sure that the rest of the members of his crew remained unaware of their dealings. "Was there anything else recovered during your search of the ship?" He wondered curiously.
"You mean…?" He searched his captain's face for the meaning of his words.
Killian just nodded sternly in response.
"There was a small supply. But my guess is they had just unloaded their latest supply when they made port." He gathered.
"Go ahead and move it onto the ship as well. It will fetch a good price." He commanded.
"Captain, are you sure-"
"That wasn't a request Mr. Flynn."
"Yes sir." He stammered, a grave look upon his face.
"That's more like it." He gave him a slight wink before moving onto the other leaders of his crew. "Take a moment to celebrate for all your hard work. Tonight the cook will prepare a big feast for all of you and you will be paid handsomely once we unload the haul." Killian announced, making his way through the crowd.
"Captain Hook! Captain Hook! Captain Hook!" The men chanted, cheering on their captain.
Killian smirked, wading through the sea of his loyal crew, making his way toward the remaining enemies pinned into a section of the ship, carefully guarded with members of the crew under the quartermaster's command.
"Sabastian." Killian called, crooking his finger, silently asking him to come to him.
Sebastian whirled around to face his captain, closing the distance between them with a hand poised on his belt as he maneuvered through the posted sentry's. "Aye captain?" His quartermaster inquired.
"These men look a little too alive to be dead." He discerned, looking to the men corralled just ahead of him. "I want to see bodies hit the floor. See to it that it happens, or do I have to find someone else to do it?"
Sebastian shook his head vehemently, gulping as Killian glowered at him in disappointment. "Ready the firing squad!" Sabastian gritted out to the members under his charge, scratching the back of his neck.
"That's more like it. I would loathe to see you replaced." He tilted his head in warning. "After you're done, see to it that my tools are brought to me." Killian commanded, his eyes glinting with the promise of violence. "I'm going to carve myself a swine."
"Yes captain." He nodded dutifully before going off to perform his duties.
Killian clenched his jaw, his mouth upturned into a dangerou smile as he lined up some of the remaining members of the enemy crew and his own moved to take their places, lowering their arms waiting for their leader's next command.
"Get ready!" Sebastian's voice rang out, his cutlass raised. "Take aim!" The sound of triggers being cocked piercing Killian's ears as he watched with avid anticipation. "Fire!" Sebastian ordered — a cacophony of maskets leaving their barrels as they headed toward their intended targets.
Amidst the smoke Killian could still make out the rhythmic sound of bodies falling lifelessly to the deck. He smiled with satisfaction at the sound, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as the next row moved toward their deaths.
"Captain?" Mr. Smee addressed him, interrupting the welcomed sound of his enemy's death cries.
"This better be important Mr. Smee." He bit back, a fierce expression of his face at the man's defiance.
Smee swallowed, shaking off the veiled threat before saying, "it's Edgar sir. He's asking for you."
"My injuries can wait, Mr. Smee. As you can see I am quite busy at the moment." He said agitatedly, gesturing to the violent display in front of him. "I've waited far too long for this to not see it through."
"I thought you might say as much, so take this." Mr. Smee said, handing him a flask of rum.
"Rum is for celebration Mr. Smee and I have yet to claim my most sought after prize." Killian grinned expectantly. "It also requires my continued sobriety. I want to be very much aware and alert for what comes next." Killian pondered the thought for a moment of his forced sobriety over the last few days before reminding himself of his brush with a dose of liquid mushroom — most likely bled from his system.
He felt an ache from where the drug had left his body — trying to starve of the need to fill the emptiness with the need to indulge in more — it was a dangerous path he was considering to walk down — he needed to be brave enough to withstand its power and hold over him.
"Then take this." Mr. Smee said, pulling Killian from his thoughts as he produced a clean shirt for him to wear. "Edgar didn't want you to catch your death out here before he had time to operate. You also look like you could use some food. When was the last time you've eaten sir?" He asked, concerned for his captain's well being.
"I can eat when I'm dead. Which can't happen until he is." Killian glanced over his shoulder to the man groaning in discomfort, bound to the mast.
"Just remember to take care of yourself, captain." Smee nodded sincerely, extending the shirt for him to take.
Killian pulled on the fresh shirt, his muscles groaning in protest as the material bruised his open sores as the sounds of the last round of gunfire faded around him. Killian knocked his palm against his blood-stained ear, beginning for his hearing in his injured ear to stop its insistent buzzing.
"Captain." One of Sabastian's crew approached him, a leather tool roll tucked underneath his arm.
Killian regarded it carefully, his body pulsing with need as it was handed over to him. "You have my thanks." He held it up with a singular wave. Killian took it over to the spot overlooking the bottom deck and placed it on the floor in front of him, unraveling it to reveal a set of sharp metal objects he hadn't laid his eyes on in decades. "Hello old friends." His hot palm brushed the metal in admiration of the danger they possessed.
Killian inspected the sharp instruments in the leather roll, his fingertips scraping the edge of the recently sharpened tips. Among the tools in his torture arsonal was a sharp pick, a cleaver, a bayonet, pliers, a small bone saw, a large circular rotating wheel with multiple points. This was all standing within his collection of other metal torture instruments meant to induce pain from his enemies or pull information out those suspected of starting a mutiny.
He picked up one of the blades, testing it in his hand and jabbing the air, his eyes narrowing as he pointed it toward the mast, a smile forming on his face at what was about to come. "What is your next order captain?" Mr. Smee shivered behind him.
"Untie the ship's captain from the mast. We need to have a little chat." Killian said, his gaze still training at the man squirming against the mast.
Smee didn't even bother to acknowledge his request, instead choosing to busy himself about the ship barking the captain's orders and gathering them to witness the impending punishment.
Killian rolled up his unused tools and tucked it under his arm before tearing up the steps of the ship, heading toward the main mast as two of his crew members began to release him from the mast, his body falling limply against the deck of the ship as Killian crossed in front of him.
Morston's knees hit the deck hard, whining as he glanced at the footsteps pacing in front of him like a caged animal waiting for its opportunity to strike. Morston groaned as his hands were forced out to his sides, his body held up in a cross position as Killian inspected him with rage and disgust.
"You know I really have no idea where to start with you." Killian said wistfully before lunging at him, startling the man as his forehead came flush with Morston's, a knife digging into his throat. Killian regarded him coldly, a menacing sneer on his face as he tried to control his nearly unhinged anger so he could draw out his torture.
Morston closed his eyes, cowering under Killian's stare.
"You really are a coward. I almost wished I had kept your crew alive long enough to see you for what you really are. Fucking pathetic." Killian spat, his saliva spitting against the man's face. "Push him onto all fours. I want to see him bow submissively. See him slipping in a pool of his own blood as I have my way with him." Killian said as he stood back onto his feet.
Morston was savagely pushed onto all fours with a well placed kick to the lower back. The man kept his foot on him, shoving him down further as his wrists were seized and stretched out beside him, wiggling his fingers desperately for some relief.
"You know among all of my grievances against you… the least of them was the constant jest of my hand — or lack thereof." He gestured with his hook. "Do you care to know what the pain is like when you lose a limb?" He taunted, looming over him. "It feels a little like this." He brought his booted foot against the man's fingers, unrelenting as he held it down as hard as he could, feeling the bones snap and give under his foot. "Oh but don't worry, that feeling should soon go away when it is replaced by a far more gruesome one." He alluded callously, nodding toward his men to come forward with a wooden block.
Morston was dragged closer to it, sniveling as his arm was stretched in front of him, his uninjured hand placed on the wooden block and held into place.
"You know Rumplestilitskin was actually rather merciful when he took my hand, cutting it off in one strike of his blade." He pulled his jagged bonesaw from its sheath and turned it over in his hand, catching his reflection glinting in the metal. "When I wake in the middle of the night from the sudden recollection that my hand is no longer there and I get to relive the pain all over again I think to myself what it would have been like had it taken longer to sever my hand from my body. I think I will test the theory." He sank onto his haunches in front of him, holding up the saw for him to see and laughing dangerously.
Morston's eyes went wide with fear. "Please. Please. You can't do this." He begged.
"I can't?" He thought aloud, stopping for a moment to consider his options sarcastically. "We all have our choices to make… just like you chose to touch what didn't belong to you — something that was not yours freely to take. Something you used without consent or regret for your actions. I'm just paying you the same kindness that you showed her. "By taking your hand without your consent." Killian smirked darkly, watching the man's fearsome expression on his own as he brought the bone saw against his wrist and began hacking into it.
All around him his crew members winced as Killian cut into the man's wrist like carving a piece of meat meant for consumption.
Killian curled his mouth in concentration, reveling in the man's screams of pure agony, blood splattering across his face as he cut through the bone, meeting resistance at every pass until it separated under the blade. Killian saw the man's eyes nearly roll back into his head, pain coursing through his body as he completed his procedure.
The bone saw slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor as he claimed his reward — the marred flesh dangling from his hand, taunting its former owner. "Now this is a fitting trophy."
Morston slipped backward, his chest rising and falling with every breath he took, grimacing in the pain radiating through both of his arms.
"Not bad for a man with one hand right?" He taunted darkly, tossing the abused bloody limb off to the side as it fell overboard with a faint splash.
"Sir?" Mr. Smee handed him a glass of water.
Killian nodded his thanks, sweeping his hair off his face with his forearm, smearing a fresh coat of blood onto his head before accepting the beverage and dipping it down his throat, his crimson colored hand wrapping around the glass.
He returned the cup to his first mate after downing its contents and looked to one of the men in front of him. "Bring him to his knees." Killian instructed, delighting in the groans of pain from the captain as he was straightened onto the desk, his arms splayed out waiting for Killian's punishment.
Killian came to stand behind him, placing his hand and his hook on the quivering man's shoulders, and leaning forward. "If memory serves me correctly, you were quite fond of this attachment, were you not? Care to see it in action?" He suggested with amusement, before tearing through the material of his shirt, bearing the man's back to his eye.
Morston flinched, the touch of the hook's cold touch making goosebumps on his skin as Killian gingerly moved his shirt open.
"Don't look so scornful captain." Killian whispered into his ear, his breath hot and lustful against the man's skin.
Morston tensed, his eyes closing on instinct as Killian dug into his flesh at the top of his back and raking it deeply into his skin, his hook dragging against the torn muscle. Morston bowed his back trying to get away from the sensation of Killian's hook to little avail as he howled in pain.
"Hold him steady." Killian barked as he continued marking up his back. He smirked at the tangled bloodied tissue hanging off his hook as he flayed the skin of the man's back, tearing it from his muscles leaving the sensitive flesh exposed. Killian sucked in a breath as blood seeped into his skin, dropplets rolling off his cheeks as he growled in satisfaction, his entire body quivering as his bloodlust was sated.
Killian moaned eagerly, his eyes dilating with pleasure as he bathed in the man's blood, his hook dripping with blood as he raised it one last time to finish his masterpiece. Killian turned his head, admiring his artful handiwork, licking the man's blood from his lips so he could savor the salty coppery taste of his pain. "Gods." Killian bucked slightly, taken off guard by the sudden burst of lust that coursed through his blood, singing to him for more. His cock pressed eagerly against his leather pants mercilessly, it's desire to be freed from it's confines to join in on the symphony of pain he was conducting testing his control.
His eyes were hazy and felt dizzy with the need to consume as he gripped the hair at the back of the man's head, tearing at the hair as he rested the man's body against his own — his front digging into the man's sensitive back. "Knife." Killian barked, feeling his control over the situation slip.
Sebastian collected the aforementioned weapon and walked it over to his captain, presenting it to him like an offering, his hand on the blade as he handed it off to him, placing the hilt of the weapon into his hand.
Killian wrapped his arm firmly against the squirming man, holding him still as he pressed the blunt end of the knife into the man's head. He brought the blade in front of him, lurching forward to press his arms aggressively into his body, needing to feel him tremble in his arms as he took his last breaths. Killian tucked his head under his chin as he fought against him, raising his blade to the man's throat and slicing deeply.
Killian growled primally as he tore through the flesh of Morston's neck, feeling the man convulse, his legs scraping against the deck as blood splashed against Killian's arms, chest, and face as he dragged it across his throat.
Killian gasped as he was painted with the man's blood, listening to the gurgles of blood in his mouth as the blood dribbled down his mouth as he began to still, rattling with a few aftershocks before slumping in his arms. Killian cried out, screaming at the top of his lungs in pain and relief — it was finally over.
"Captain." Mr. Smee dropped to his knees in front of him as another man pulled the body off of him. "Captain? Are you alright?"
Killian hissed as the man was removed from his chest and dragged against the deck to be hauled overboard. "I'm fine. Never been better Mr. Smee." He replied, breathing raggedly.
"Is there anything I can get you sir?" He extended his hand for him to take.
Killian rejected it, pushing it away from him as he got onto his feet, the bloody knife still gripped between his fingers. "Let this be a lesson to anyone who wishes to cross or otherwise vex me-" He pointed the knife toward his crew members, circling the group as he spoke. "Your pain will be my pleasure." He warned, dropping the blade, the tip impaling the wood of the deck. "Do I make myself clear?"
"Aye captain." His crew shouted in confirmation.
Killian nodded his head in contentment for their loyalty and responsibility to obey his command, the men parting silently as he walked through them, headed toward the gangplank that allowed them access to go back and forth between each ship. His feet fell against the deck of his ship, her curves welcoming him back like a gentle lover as he basked in the familiarity of being back on his ship. "Hello old girl." He rasped, brushing his hand against the wood.
Killian walked past several of his crew members as they moved inventory, glaring at him in passing, shaking slightly as they took in his bloodied intimidating appearance. Killian nodded toward them as he walked the length of the ship with the intent to travel below to his cabin. He descended the steps, one at a time, his hand sliding against the railing until he reached the floor.
The sound of his return drew Emma's attention from where she rested on the bed. She looked almost ethereal in her relaxed state, her hair spread around her like a golden halo, her skin freshly bathed. She fluttered her lashes rapidly, watching from her spot on the bed as he tore through the cabin, wordlessly going over to the small wash basin, unhooking his sword belt as, and plunging his hands into the warm water.
Emma removed herself from the bed, her shift moving with her as she cautiously moved toward him. He looked like a wild untamed animal — completely unhinged from his earlier encounter.
Killian splashed water on his face, gasping diluted blood colored the sink and rolled down his hair and face.
"Killian?" She held up a trembling palm, reaching toward him only to have him suddenly whirl around to face her. She flinched away from him — her face falling slightly as she took in his crazed expression.
He growled possessively, stalking toward her, backing her up until her back hit the far wall. He towered over her, inspecting her carefully, his body pulsing with uncontrollable need to have her — his blood calling out to her like a siren's song. He looked absolutely deranged — his eyes roaming over the expanse of her body with a mixture of raw lust and power. He could see every inch of her naked creamy skin through the soft translucent material of her shift — her pert rosy nipples teasing him through the light fabric.
He traced the outline of her curves, his fingers sliding over the material to the sound of her heart beating wildly in her chest, her breath coming out in harsh pants as she grimaced, her eyes fluttering closed. Killian gathered the hem of her shift, fisting it into his hands to draw the material up to her hip, granting him access to the soft flesh that lay beneath it, his fingers roaming her skin.
"Killian…" The sound of her frightened whimpers broke him out of his trance-like state and immediately dropped her dress, letting it fall back into place.
"Emma… Oh my- lass… I'm so sorry." He began to apologize profusely. "I wasn't thinking straight. I'm just so-" He stammered, trying to articulate the feelings coursing through his veins. Killian stepped back, tugging at his hair, screaming painfully as he kicked over a chair.
"Killian…" Emma started, trying to reach toward him in comfort. "Killian…" She said his name again, catching his attention. "Just tell me what you need." She pleaded with him.
"You." He gritted out. "Gods I need you." He whispered, brushing his hand across her face, leaving a trail of blood in his wake as he stroked her softly with the pad of his thumb.
Emma's expression softened and she released a long breath. "Then take me. Take me Killian."
Killian released a possessive growl, his entire body shaking with need, red drops of water dripping from his hair from where he had just wet it. He hoisted her unceremoniously into his arms, hitching her leg over his hip as he walked her backward — her back hitting the wall behind her.
He could feel his control slipping — he wanted to be gentle with her and appreciate her for everything she was — everything she is to him but his body was screaming for something far more primal and urgent. He could feel himself straining inside the confines of his leather pants, the pressure against them damn near unbearable as it silently pleaded with him for relief. He felt like a slave to his baser needs and wants, forgetting all decorum in exchange for the bliss that awaited him between her legs.
"Emma…" He groaned, his expression completely wrecked, something savage within him beckoning him forward to claim what he needed.
"It's okay… It's okay Killian…" She said softly, caressing his cheek. "Take what you need."
"Lass you don't understand what you're agreeing to. This won't be gentle." He gritted out desperately.
Emma responded by pushing up her skirt, capturing the material and hiking it up against her hip, silently beckoning him forward.
"Gods I love you. Fucking perfect." He placed a chaste kiss to her neck as she dropped her shift momentarily to hurriedly work the laces of his pants free. "Fuck." He nearly fell forward against her as her hand gripped him tightly, bearing his swollen cock to her gaze before sliding his pants down his hips until the material bunched below his buttocks.
She gathered the material, fisting it at her side, leaning forward like an offering as she pressed herself against him — her foot digging into his ass for purchase.
His eyes slammed shut at the feeling of the heat radiating off her skin just begging for him to take. Killian growled, a near shout on his lips as he gripped himself in his hand and positioned himself at her entrance, his hook dragging against the wall behind her.
Emma cupped his face in her hands, stroking the stubble of his jaw with her thumb in support. "It's okay." She cooed. "You need this."
A strangled cry ripped from his throat as he plunged forward, slamming hard into her, burying himself inside her warm depths. "Emma, I can't. I don't want to hurt you." He said, his expression conflicted, trying to restrain himself from losing it.
"Killian, you won't break me." She promised him.
That was all he needed to hear as his control slipped, a feral snarl falling from his lips as he jerked out of her and rammed back in, reveling in her tightness around his cock pulling him in.
Emma threaded her fingers at the back of his head, her arms wrapped around his neck as he took her hard and fast. She winced slightly in pain at his brutally demanding pace — his hips snapping madly in a chaotic rhythm of his own making. She felt the tears roll down her cheeks as he drove forward, his insistent thrusts becoming more aggressive. She cried for his pain, for his pleasure, for his masculine compulsion that he felt a slave to.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." He cursed repeatedly, thrusting as he sated the demon inside him that was crying out for ecstasy. He could feel the anger coursing inside him as he pounded inside her, the muscles in his back rippling as he took what he needed. "Mine." He growled possessively, punctuating his words with a stroke of his hips inside her. "Mine. Mine. Mine." He howled animalistically, thrusting hard, his resolve beginning to crack.
"Yours Killian." She agreed, tightening her fingers in his hair. "Only yours." She whimpered as he plunged into her with unrestrained vigor.
"Mine. Only mine." He gritted his teeth with the strain, his muscles trembling violently — his body singing with glee at feeding its baser urges. He could feel the testosterone in his body requesting his release, the need dominating his every movement against her. Killian reached into the low opening of her shift, dragging it lower to release her heaving breasts from their soft linen prison.
Killian wrapped his mouth around one erect bud just begging for his attention and sucked it hard, scraping it lightly with his teeth as he tasted her flesh. He used the pad of his thumb, pressing the other strained nipple until it puckered submissively underneath his touch. He rolled it deftly with his thumb as the cold metal of his rings brushed against her heated skin.
He relinquished his hold over her sensitive skin as he felt the pleasure curl in his body, his balls tightening with his impending high — taming the beast within that demanded its release. He dragged his hand, leaving the treasure of her chest to wrap around her hip, squeezing bruisingly to rock her body against his, his cock receiving her — his frenzied claim on her surging through him.
Killian grunted, focused on his pleasure as he fucked into her — the demon hissing it's satisfaction as the pleasure overtook him. He gasped, his core muscles tightening, his eyes slamming shut as wave after wave of pleasure rocked his body — overcome by the force and urgency of his orgasm. He panted, his body jerking his release as he painted her insides with the proof of his climax.
He convulsed, aftershocks ricocheting as he continued pumping into her with long languid strokes to prolong his pleasure. When he came to, his insatiable animal finally vindicated in its request for ownership. Killian withdrew himself from her depths with a grimace, his eyes dilating with lust as he watched his seed leak from her sex that had claimed her as his.
He released his grip on her, helping her slide down gently until her feet landed safely on the ground, her legs wobbly as she gained her bearings. "Emma, are you alright?" He asked, concern in his voice. "Did I hurt you?" He searched her body, looking for any trace of injury.
"I'm a little sore but I'll be fine." She rested her hand upon his shoulder.
Killian grimaced with shame at having taken her so aggressively.
"Killian. I'm fine." She reassured him, holding his jaw in her other hand, urging him to look her in the eye. "Are you alright?" She asked sincerely.
"Never better. It's over." He breathed out. "It's finally over…" He said, a relieved smile pulling at his lips. Killian's face suddenly fell, his body rocking to and fro as his eyes clouded over.
"Killian?" She tried to steady him, her voice punctuated with worry. "Killian?" She panicked.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head, exhaustion taking over as he fell backward, slipping from her hold as he came crashing to the floor.
"Killian!"
AN- Sorry for the unexpected cliff hanger. I thought I needed to torture a little more. Emma wasn't crying because it hurt, although it may have hurt her a little. She was overwhelmed by their encounter because of everything that he had experienced over the last few hours. If you think about it, he probably shouldn't even be alive right now, but you know Killian, he's a survivor. There is one more chapter to go as I wrap up this story line and introduce the next plot that will be roughly the same length of 10 chapters. So lots more to come! Stay tuned.