Title: Breaking the Girl
Rating: R for adult themes and mild language
Characters: Rick, Terri
Pairings: Rick/Terri
Summary: She was vulnerable and he was sadistic. He knew she was breaking. [Non-fluff, Rick-centric]
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. Don't sue.
A/N: I'm really interested in the character of Rick and I wanted to write something about him. He seems like such a sadist, so I tried to work off that. I toyed with the idea of keeping the characters a secret until the end of the story, but I'm not too good at the whole mystery thing. Oh, and keep in mind, this was before Rick started beating Terri. Enjoy.
[ Ashley, 5-14-04 ]
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I smile at her from across the room. She blushes and looks away.
Ah, that beautiful crimson color gracing her soft cheeks. Red truly is a radiant color. It's the color that brings roses to life. It's the color that screams love. It's the color that makes blood what it is.
I can only imagine that smooth skin being covered in gashes, the sweet blush being replaced by flowing blood. The thought makes my heart beat faster.
Calm down, Rick. Don't overexcite yourself.
Of course, of course. That would surely scare her away. The only way to get a girl is to act cool, calm, and collected.
But I can see it. The blood trickling down her cheeks. Those soft, beautiful cheeks. Those wide, innocent blue eyes brimming with tears. She's about to cry. But I don't want her to cry?I want her to scream.
Oh, dear. I got excited again.
I look in her direction and I catch her looking at me. Again, she blushes furiously and looks down at her shoes. She starts to wring her hands nervously and I smile.
Her hands are stunning. The palms smooth, the fingers perfect. On her ring finger, there's a tiny little freckle right below the knuckle. I was told as a boy that freckles were angel kisses. Fitting that is. Oh, and her fingernails are painted. Red.
Oh, but wait. Her hands are not perfect. They are colorless. They need color. But don't fret, my sweet. I can fix that for you.
I would love to cut into her palms. I would cut into each perfect line on her perfect palm. I think I'll start with the life line. I'll trace the blade from right above her thumb, all the way down to her wrist. She'll whimper and I'll smile.
Then I'd move onto the head line. It does, after all, represent our emotional conditions. And Terri's emotional state is tremendous. The blade moves swiftly from one end of her palm to the other. She's beginning to shake now. Good.
And last, but certainly not least, the heart line. Her heart line is enchanting. The way it curves up from the end of her palm right up towards her middle finger. That will make cutting it all the more stimulating.
There.
All done.
That wasn't so bad, was it Terri?
But when I see the hands that she's still wringing, I notice that they are woundless. Not one mark, cut, or gash. This upsets me. After all that hard work, her hands are still colorless. A shame, really. Such beautiful hands end up being so dull.
I catch her staring at me again, and she blushes so much that the ravishing color practically makes it's way down her neck. The pale skin is so seductive. But again, as beautiful as it is, it is so bland without any color.
Think about it, Ter. Red juices creeping down that smooth skin on your neck. And don't worry about the mess. I will lick it clean for you. Every drop.
I hear your angelic voice speak in the distance and lift my head to see who gets the honor to speak to you.
It's him. That boy I always see you with. Now I am really upset with you. He's not worthy of you, like I myself am. He doesn't see you as a queen as I do. He sees you as a piece of meat for him to chew on.
You're daft Terri. You are. But I don't fault you for it. Ignorance truly is bliss for some, I suppose. And if you don't do anything about the way he looks at you with those beady little eyes, I will. I can be very unforgiving, darling. Especially to those who are greedy. And that's all that boy is. Greedy.
You know what he'd do if he got his hands on you? He'd touch you, Terri. And you wouldn't dare enjoy it.
However, I think the better question is, what would I do if I got my hands on him? Oh, that is simple, my precious. First I'd break that pretty little nose of his. Not so good looking now, is he? Then I'd probably snap both his kneecaps. I hear he plays basketball? Well, not anymore. And you know what I'd do last? I'd reach my hand inside him and take his heart out with my bare hands.
Oh that would be wonderful, wouldn't it? Can't you picture it, buttercup? My arm would be drenched in his blood, my fingers soaked. And there, grasped in my hands, his beating heart. And he would lay there, writhing on the ground, regretting every moment he tried to steal you away from me.
The nuisance finally leaves you alone and I am happy.
But wait, why are you leaving? You're heading towards me. Could it be that I finally get to speak to this angel?
No.
As you walk past me, I inhale your sweet scent. It's so intoxicating. A sweet blend of honey and pine trees. I wish I could inhale your fragrance every day. I would sniff from your neck all the way up to your earlobe. I would roughly run my fingers through your hair and inhale deeply.
But that is for another day. And when that day comes, it will be glorious.
Your presence is gone, but I can still feel you. You appeal to all of my senses, after all.
I can smell your fear as I walk towards you.
I can see you close your eyes as I get closer.
I can hear you cry as my hand touches your bloody cheek.
I can feel the blood dripping down my fingers.
I can taste every sweet droplet of your crimson juices.
Oh, Terri, my little lamb. You're so innocent, so vulnerable. And that just makes you all the more tempting. You sweet seductress, I can't wait until you are mine. And don't worry, my sweet. It shall be in due time.
I can see you breaking.
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Wow, even I'll admit that was messed up. Kind of short, but I hoped you liked it. First time I've written in a while, so I may be a bit rusty!
[Ashley, 5-15-04]