Disclaimer: I don't own anyone from the Devil's Rejects/House of 1000 corpses. Hell, I don't own Kayla either. She owns herself. So with that said, I'm just playing around with their lives. Have fun reading and review.

Kayla's eyes focused onto her captor. She still didn't know who he was, or why she deserved any of this. She only could feel the oncoming dread that she wouldn't be leaving alive. She tried to pull at her legs, her arms, but the bindings only bit in tighter on her limbs.

"Ain't gonna' do you no good to try and get away now."

She looked up at the stranger. "Why me?"

"Why not?" He fiddled with the knife, watching her from the window. His legs were hanging on either side of the chair as he watched her reaction. His head bent back down, his hair falling forward as the knife picked at his fingernails.

Her chin started to shake as the fear started to set in. Her eyes were watering, but she didn't want to cry. She knew what was going to happen, but she couldn't believe that it was her. She never thought that it happened to real people. Murder… rape… she had only heard about such things. She had never imagined that she would be just another news article.

"Now you just be quiet, and it won't be so bad."

She didn't move or make a noise as he unfolded his lanky frame from the chair. This time he was shirtless and hatless. The dark cargo pants hung loosely off his hips. She couldn't help but notice the dark stains that tainted the pants. His boots hit hard on the wooden floor as he stepped closer to the bed. The air got harder to breathe the closer he approached. The blade glinted as it spun in his hand. And her body responded in ways she couldn't understand. She felt so scared, so small, so helpless, but her body was aroused. Instincts to run were mixed with the bloodlust and adrenaline mixing her blood.

He dropped the blade next to her legs, while his hands moved up to the top of her pants. His hand skimmed the lower part of her belly, while the other worked on the button. And when he finally undid it, he stripped her lower body bare.

Her wallet was in his hand, and he was fiddling through her things. "Well… Kayla…" He dropped the wallet. He took a long look at her body, and shook his head.

Her name coming from his lips elicited another wave of disgust and attraction. She felt so nauseous she could barely breathe, but she wasn't sure if that was the only reason. She leaned her neck up and watched his fingers slipped into her.

She couldn't believe the look of surprise on his face as he jammed his fingers into her.

"You're a wet little whore, aren't you?" His free hand ripped her shirt in two.

She couldn't voice a reaction while she was violated. She could only let it happen. She didn't know what else might save her from him. His hands were bitter cold and it hurt. It hurt too much to even move. She felt the small tears while his fingers found their way deeper and deeper.

"Oh, I've got myself a virgin on my hands. Can't waste that on a little foreplay now…" He turned up his head and watched as the lump in her throat moved. The audible gulp was deafening in the silence of the small room.

Kayla felt a tear drip down on her cheek. She turned her head down towards the bed. She couldn't look at him. She didn't want to give up; she didn't want to let this be the end. But there was nothing else she could do. She couldn't believe that her last few nights would be spent with him. She didn't know who he was, or what he was, but she knew that he wanted her dead. And raping her would be a means of getting there.

The humiliation of it all. She felt a warm sticky feeling between her legs. It was blood. His hand came up to her face with a little tinge of red covering the fingers.

His face twisted into a grimace. "Now… Kayla, I'm not really used to this…you being quiet. All these other girls," he motioned to the naked bodies in the corner. "They screamed, they spit, they cried, they begged. Why not you?" His eyes creased as he watched her intently, waiting for her answer.

"I, I--" she coughed. "I don't want to die."

"But you will, so fight me."

She tried to sink deeper into the mattress.

"Scream at me! Say Fuck You like all the other cunts do." He started to press the blade against her throat.

She couldn't. She didn't want to. "I don't want to anger you anymore. I know I'm going to die, but if I can make it… less painful…" She looked up into his eyes and watched the fiery anger dissipate from his face.

He dropped the blade to the side of her head and he actually smiled. "Well at least you understand your destiny. Those cunts didn't." His hand slipped into her hair and down into the blade. She felt his fingers tighten around the hilt of the blade intertwined with her hair. His other hand felt the softness of her neck and traced the swollen bruises.

Quick sharp jabs of pain caused her head to turn and face him. Her breath caught in the back of her throat and she couldn't mistake the animal nature that came from his eyes. His breath was hot and heavy. "Tell me you want me. Say it." His fingers stroked along the lines of her face.

Her mouth was too dry to talk, to dry to open. And when she didn't say it, she felt the hard slap of his hand against her cheek. Blood filled a little bit of her mouth. It dribbled down her lips and she could feel the quicker throbbing of blood. "I want you." More blood spilled down onto her chin.

He wiped the blood off her mouth with the palm of his hand and dried it on the side of his pants. The knife ended up back at her throat. "How much do you want me? Huh? How do you want it? C'mon, baby, you can tell Otis."

The taste of the blood was making her sick and she couldn't concentrate. Her stomach was so weak. She couldn't believe any of this. Each moment that passed where she didn't speak, the blade was pushed harder into the soft tendons of her neck. "A lot." A meek little squeak echoed from her throat.

And he laughed. "Oh girl, you just weren't made out for this, were you? No fight, no fear; not much of anything at all." His free hand slipped back through his hair and ended up at the bottom of his chin. He put the knife down by her side and climbed on top of her.

Another twinge reminded her how she had gotten here in the first place. With wide eyes, she stared at him as he simply looked over her. His hands covered her pale throat, tracing the mark he had made earlier. His fingers followed the trail of blood down to the crevasse of her breasts. With rough hands, he caressed each of her breasts and smiled at her. "You like this, don't you?"

Wordless and stunned, she couldn't agree more. She did. Sick. Depraved. She shouldn't have liked this; no, she loved it. She had never wanted anything more than to be helpless. She knew her reaction to him wasn't unusual. She was as helpless as they come, and she knew that this was her fantasy. Moreover, he knew. That's what frightened her. All along, he had known that she would be wet for him; her body would receive him easily, even if her mind protested. All she could do was nod, while her mouth hung open as the unfamiliar sensations took over.

A devilish smiled appeared on his face. "There's always a whore hiding underneath any bitch's pretty little exterior." His hand smacked hard against her face again.

She turned her head to spit the blood out. She wished she could block out the searing pain of where he had hit her. So she closed her eyes, trying to think of something else. Trying to remember what type of life she had before she had come. But nothing else mattered now; all she could think of was his body on top of her naked one. She felt the hardness pressing against her stomach and it excited her.

Once again, his hands found her throat. He seemed to be almost mesmerized by the blood on her body. She didn't believe he liked her body, just the blood that was in it. In a way, it saddened her to believe that she wasn't the reason he was doing this. It was only the insatiable blood lust that drew him to her. It was her body, her ideas, her thoughts… It was only the chance to kill. That was the thing that enticed him to her.

Without the feeling special to him, she reverted deeper into her brain. She didn't hear the things he said or felt the pain as he sliced her body. She couldn't feel anything as the numbness set in that she wasn't the one. Without that, she would just be another corpse piled in the corner or hidden underground. She would mean nothing to him than anyone else. She wanted to be remembered. If she were to be subjected to this fate, she wanted it to be for a reason. A tormented lover, a deranged psychopath who had stalked her for months. She didn't want to be murdered because she was available. Because it was just too easy to pick her up.

"Agh!" She felt his hand wrap and twist around her hair and pull her head forward. The roots started to tear and the stinging began as fresh blood dripped down, causing tears to well up in her eyes.

"Seems the whore is listening now." His hand pulled her hair and there were nose to nose.

She was breathing in the hot air he expelled. Kayla was rapt under his eyes. Her heart raced as the intensity between them thickened. She knew he had to be as warm as him. His whole body was radiated heat, from either lust or anger. His eyes were fixed on hers and when she would try to look away, too intimidated to continue, he would grab her chin and bring her back, only too much closer. Too much for her to handle. But with her hair let go, and chin tightly held to prevent her from turning away anymore, she felt the craving. She knew she would mean more to him in the end. The ferocity of this couldn't last for very long, but it couldn't be denied either. There was no desire ever greater than between these two now. She couldn't recall how his hand had returned to caressing her breasts and she couldn't stop him. The room was in complete silence. The bed slightly creaked as she tried to lean back, but his hand stopped and grabbed her by the neck.

"Yeah, I knew you'd like it rough."

She gasped for air, but the lack of it made her dizzy. Her body relaxed and he dropped her down onto the bed. She felt his hand return to her throat, but this time her breathing was shallow while he took full advantage of her. She could barely feel the tearing as the blood flow slowed down. The pain would come much later, but now it was her sadistic heaven. The pleasure mixed with the pain and she felt revered for a moment. She felt the world beneath fall out beneath her as she lived out her hidden dream.

His body shook against hers and for a moment, he stopped and rested on her.

She looked down at him and met a much kinder Otis. Someone she knew she would never see again. She lowered her eyes, but this time only a finger softly pulled her chin up. With the slight tilt of his head, her face was let go and the pain returned to her body as the fever was gone. Within in seconds, she felt another fierce hit to her chin, the world finally turned black.

Note: The story will continue. Have fun. Review.

-Saphi