Assorted Sacrifices or: Campfire Stories with Jane Romero

by deaddarlings

If there was anything Jane Romero could do, she could sniff out a story. And stories were definitely brewing around the campfire. (also available on AO3.) Current ships: Meg/Ghostface, Kate/David, Cheryl/Claire, Adam/Amanda, Jake/Feng/Nea.

12. desire

Meg sped through the cornfield, sweat rolling down her temple to her neck. She skidded to a stop behind a bale of hay and crouched low to catch her breath as softly as she could while her mind raced in a panic. Only one generator completed, and she had to run before finishing the second. Whoever the killer was, they already took out Ace. A roar of agony followed by an otherworldly boom and rush of wind that made the stalks sway told her Chris was gone, too. She grit her teeth in frustration. The killer was quiet. Too quiet. They were shielding their presence from her.

It was him, wasn't it?

She ducked into the house and stepped lightly up the stairs. A locker stood in the hall, incongruous to its surroundings but a welcome sight nonetheless. Meg slipped inside and shut the door behind her, wincing as the stupid bag and boots slung over her shoulder bumped against the back of the confined space. With a frustrated growl, she pulled the bag up and over her shoulders and dropped it onto the floor, quickly followed by the smashed phone wrapped to her arm. So stupid and needless; just another way the thing that kept her trapped in the trials fucked with her. With a shuddering exhale, she grasped inside the pockets of her shorts and pulled several metal pieces out. The last generator she'd worked on had enough parts to make a flashbang. Leon had taken the time to teach her as some strange way of reaching out to her after their last trial together. Something she could use as a distraction if she was cornered again.

Her fingers trembled as she puzzled the components together. A screw dropped onto the floor and she scrambled to find it again, hyper-aware of how little time she likely had. A dizzying fog of fear razed her thoughts as she tried to remember how to complete the distraction. She kept telling herself it was fear, even as the anticipatory ache in her groin grew stronger. Meg inhaled quietly as she held the half-completed flashbang in one hand and pressed her other palm against her shorts. It almost hurt. The throbbing in her ears matched the pace of the throbbing beneath her fingers, begging for any touch at all.

Meg tried sohard to stop thinking about him. She tried blocking him out with alcohol, tried with the lips of her teammates. She had played the memory in her head repeatedly, trying to show herself how much he hurt her, how he violated her in a moment of foolish vulnerability. But instead of inciting fear, it became a thought she obsessed over when she was alone in a tent, using her fingers to chase the rare rush of endorphins he erupted in her body. She hoped it wasn't him. Any other killer that found her would just see her, maybe look a little confused or not even notice. But that fucker would notice, wouldn't he? Her building rage and lust made her exhale louder than she realized, but she removed her hands from herself. If her team lost because she was behaving like a sex-starved dog, she wouldn't forgive herself.

A strange scent enticed her to breathe in through her nose. A scent that grew stronger as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. She squeezed her eyes shut as a pounding heartbeat echoed in her ears. They weren't bothering hiding themselves now. A loud creak, then a bang as the door of the locker beside hers was slammed shut, and she flinched. She used her free hand to cover her mouth and suppress a whimper. Her breathing stopped completely as she heard a crow caw above her, perched on the locker outside. She was out of time. Meg squeezed her eyes shut.

Outside of the locker, the Ghostface smirked. "Gotcha," he whispered, sparing a nod to the crow that sat atop the locker next to him. Shifting his weight, he stepped in front of the locker and took a deep breath. He had been waiting for this moment. Watching her. Scribbling notes after their trials. He could have easily knocked her down at any point, but he needed the right moment. With a quick sigh and a shudder of anticipation, Danny gripped the locker doors and flung them open with a flourish of his knife. He was greeted by the sight of the redhead with her eyes closed tight, one arm rigid at her side and the other covering her mouth. He scoffed at her flushed face as he slammed his knife down into the wall inches from her head, trapping her frame with his. Her eyes shot open in fear. "Were you scared, Red? Fucking terrified I'd find you?" He gripped her by the throat and smiled with satisfaction at the terror in her expression before yanking her up from her spot.

Meg screamed as he slung her over his shoulder, the unfinished flashbang clattering onto the floor as her palms opened in shock. The rolling fear in her stomach mingled with the thrill below as his hands gripped her waist tight. She rolled against his arm with a grunt of effort. "L-Let me go!"

"Shut up," Danny growled, twisting his wrist against her thigh to inflict a sharp burn on her skin. Her yelp of pain thinned his patience for what was to come, and he squeezed her leg with force intended to bruise her skin.

Meg's eyes darted around her as his steps quickened down the first flight of stairs, then turned the corner down to the basement. She grit her teeth, angry at the horrible vinyl shroud sticking to her stomach, the flush on her cheeks, and the lingering desire for his hands to remain on her thigh even as it burned. "Asshole," she hissed under her breath, just quiet enough that he wouldn't hear. The scent from before lingered as he left the second level, covering all other strange, awful smells from the abandoned home. Was it him? It smelled like leather warmed by a campfire. Musky and almost nostalgic, like something an older man would wear to catch someone's attention in a crowded bar. The scent was nicer than the fucker holding her deserved to wear, but unfortunately, just sensual enough that it kept her mind wandering.

As they reached the basement, Danny sighed as he realized the rope bound to the post wasn't quite what he needed. "Did you fuckers throw any pallets earlier?" He asked, not bothering to turn his head to acknowledge her. He lowered himself to drop her below the massive four-sided pillar of hooks that took up the center of the basement's floor space. They always screamed louder on these hooks than the others. He wasn't quite sure why, though he guessed it had something to do with the thing lying in wait beneath the floorboards, hungry and watchful.

She fell to the floor with a grunt of surprise and rolled onto her side with heaving breaths, glaring up at him as she tossed one of her braids away from her face. He was wearing the red mask, the one that resembled his usual mask but with two short, stubby horns jutting from the forehead like some dollar store devil costume. Pretentious. Stupid. So self-important. Her eyes wandered, for an unguarded moment, down his torso. She grit her teeth and snapped her gaze back up to his mask. "You're the one who ate them. You tell me."

Under his mask, he rolled his eyes. "You're such a bitch. Fine, I'll go look myself."

Meg's furious expression switched to one of utter confusion as he turned and went back up the stairs. He was...leaving her here? Was he trying to lure the last one of them down here so he could get both of them? No, that didn't make sense; he would've hooked her if that was his plan. Meg slowly crawled away from the base of the pillar, groaning in effort as she did. She reached the bottom of the stairs and hauled herself up each step with distracted thoughts. She wasn't moving as quickly as she should. She had to keep moving or he would kill her. Wouldn't he? He had said as much last time, but…he had also said he wanted to fuck with her first. Meg's heart pounded loudly in her chest. Her hand came up to the top stair, only to flinch away as his boot slammed into the wood less than an inch from her fingers. His arms crossed over his chest as he shifted the length of rope looped around his shoulder.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" He laughed a little and reached down to pick her up by her waist, carrying her a few feet before dropping her at the base of the hook with the rope thrown onto the ground beside her. He broke the silence with a stomp of his combat boots at her side as he stood over her and stared into her frightened eyes. She squeaked in surprise, a sound he relished coming out of her bitchy mouth. "What do you actually want, Red?" He squatted down, elbows resting on his knees as his head tilted to the side. "You could've told me to kill you at any point last time. But you didn't." The mask tilted the opposite direction. "What gives?"

Meg clenched her jaw, uncomfortably aware of how warm her cheeks felt. "Not really an alternative, asshole."

He lowered himself onto his knees, straddling and trapping her underneath him. "You'd just come back. Even if I made sure it hurt…" Danny gripped her wrist and undid the straps of her glove, ignoring her weak struggles as he pulled it up off her fingers and tossed it to the floor."...it was still an option." Her nails were in shockingly good condition, all things considered. Her hand was small in his. "Not like I haven't killed you before."

Hot breath blew from her nose as she stared up at him. The intensity of the gaze beneath the mask made her ears burn as he tore the other glove from her hand. She averted her eyes silently.

"Whatever. I wasn't expecting anything eloquent." As he spoke, he fetched the rope from the ground, gripped her wrists and bound them together. "But I guess I was hoping for some kind of answer." He stood, pulling her arms up towards the hook with the length of rope still in his hand.

She groaned suddenly as he held her up, and his rough movements stopped with a quick, inquisitive motion of his mask towards her. Her mouth remained open as her eyes darted from him to the rope. A heavy, oppressive throbbing originated between her legs.

"Is that your answer?" He hoped she could hear the grin in his voice.

"You fucking know why," Meg finally hissed.

A muffled laugh from beneath the mask, hollow to his own ears. "Because you enjoyed it, didn't you? Christ, you're a slut." She turned her head away and chewed her lip nervously, and he took this cue to secure the remaining rope around the wide i-beam that the hook hung from.

Meg breathed in quick, rapid pants as the tension from her binding held her arms high above her head, her hands on either side of the hook. It left just enough room below her to balance on her toes. He pulled additional knots around her wrists tightly, pinching and burning her skin. She winced as a thrill of lust shot up from her belly.

"What? Are you in heat, bitch?" He teased malevolently, pulling the tail end of the rope once to make sure it wouldn't move.

"Let me down," she demanded with a sharp whine, squirming against the restraints.

He trailed his finger along the middle of her stomach, the contour of muscles beneath skin tantalizing and tempting. "Mmm. No."

"Don't you have anything better to do!?"

"Like what? I already got Venice Beach and Supercop. The little brunette won't take ten seconds, she's shit at running from me. It would just be a waste of time," he muttered, tone bored and head lolling idly as he looked around the basement. Reaching behind him, he unsheathed his knife from where he had it in a scout carry and ran a gloved finger along the wicked curve it possessed. The blade glistened as he twisted its handle. "I want to play with you, Red. I've got some urges I need satisfied."

Meg felt her core twitch back as her heart leapt into her throat. "You're disgusting," she breathed, staring at the hollow, black void of the mask's sockets and twisting her body beneath the hook. Her feet spread on the ground further apart as her hips angled closer to his.

Danny smirked beneath the mask. This was provoking exactly the reaction he'd hoped for from her; he could nearly smell her fear mingling with lustful excitement. With his free hand, he pressed his palm against her groin, earning a gasp from the bound redhead. "So I've been told. Wanna know a secret?" He leaned in close to her ear, and tipped his mask up just a bit with his knife. "It doesn't hurt my feelings."

A little groan caught in her throat as she inhaled sharply and her eyes fluttered shut. The tempting scent was stronger when his mask was lifted. He didn't smell like that before. What was that? "I didn't know you had those," she managed as she opened her eyes again, taking care not to breathe so heavily as he rolled his hand against her. She could just make out the sharp end of a chin just beneath the mask. It wasn't even enough to see his lips - not that she'd want to see them, anyway, but…a vile fascination took hold of her as she stared at his visible, pale skin. Her eyes glanced back to the black mouth of the Ghostface. Shallow breaths passed her parted lips in anticipation for whatever he was going to do to her next.

"Of course I do." He stroked his index deeper between the fabric of his shorts and exhaled as she made a soft sound that could've been an objection or a plea. "I just don't care about anyone else's." He removed his hand from her and switched the dagger from one hand to the other and pulled the mask back down. Her eyes were still fixed on where his face had been exposed. With a deep frown, he pressed the flat of the blade close against her side. "Now, are you gonna keep being mouthy, or do I need to make you shut up?" His attempts at sounding as threatening as possible were hindered by the thrill in his stomach as he turned the blade and ran it along her bare abdomen, her soft flesh gently giving way to the bite of the metal.

Meg tried to pull away as he scratched her just enough to sting, but instead teetered unsteadily further into his blade with a yelp of pain. His hand pulled the knife away quickly, only to return it to her skin with deliberate force. She tried to focus on the scent of leather and citrus that grew in potency in her nostrils. "Bet you can't."

He growled low, the blade digging in just above her hips, and she barely hid her wince as it dragged into her. "Not a bet you want to make," he hissed, running a finger along the slice until her blood leaked crimson onto his glove. "Unless you're really looking to get hurt."

"You're such a p - "

With his free hand, he grabbed her throat and pressed on the sides of her neck. Her eyes grew wide as she struggled against his hold, a choked mewl passing her lips. "Go on," Danny chuckled, giving another light cut just above her hip, "finish that sentence."

A foggy, pleasant dizziness overtook Meg's thoughts as he limited the air and blood to her head. She felt his hand brush along her bare midriff before a quick flick of pain followed, his knife scraping against her hard enough for her to feel warm blood drip into the band of her shorts.

"What's up? Don't know what to say?" He tightened his grip on her, watching her face intently as he crushed his palm against her throat.

A quiet, breathy moan was the only response she could manage. Her eyes looked above her of their own volition. The hook, rope, and her arms appeared fuzzy in her vision as dark stars began dancing in front of her. "T-too hard," she squeaked.

To his own surprise, Danny loosened his grip. He scowled to himself as she took a deep, wheezing breath in before cleaning his blade off on the side of his jeans and tucking it back into the sheath. "I guess you're not as kinky as I thought, huh? Well, I've still got something I want to try with you." Danny held a hand up and felt a tingling in his fingertips as his camera appeared. He still couldn't get used to his things just... appearing when he needed them. It was definitely more convenient, but all his stuff smelled like sulfur. He tilted his head and held the camera up. "Let's make some memories, Red."

Meg felt an annoyingly deep pang at his first disparaging comment before silently reminding herself she didn't have to prove fucking anything to him, let alone meet any of his twisted standards. As if to prove her right, the shutter clicked with a bright flash. Her brows tilted into worry as she wondered if there was any way he could actually keep the photos he took. The idea of an image of her, taken by him, in this position, found by one of her teammates...her disgust was overridden by a surprising, crashing wave of arousal. She shivered and pressed her thighs together in a squirm.

Her movements caught his eye, and Danny crouched low, angling his camera up her body in a leering, invasive manner. "Smile! Gotta let everyone back home know what I'm doin' to you, don't we?" He snapped another picture, nodding as he readjusted the settings on the device. "What would your friends say if they saw you like this? You think any of them would get off on it? One of them's gotta be as much of a freak as you are." Danny took pictures at different angles as he spoke, her red face turning away from nearly every one. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and turned her head towards him. "Stay fucking still, you little cunt," he snarled.

Meg bared her teeth in a grimace, her eyelashes wet from the pain at her scalp. "You're sick. Were you a fucking creep when you were alive, too?" The sudden flash from his camera so close to her face made her flinch back, but she remained in his hold.

"Now that was a good shot. You're hot when you're angry," he chuckled darkly, tossing the camera backwards into the air and hearing it hiss away into nothingness. Without warning, he gripped her legs and yanked them upwards. She struggled against his hands before he bent her knees, spreading her open. "Hmm. Yeah, this could work."

Meg let out a soft, frightened gasp as one hand came around to her ass, pulling her a little closer to his belt. He dropped her just as suddenly with a cruel laugh. Her sneakers hit the ground with a painful slap as she swung and tried to regain her balance as her cheeks burned furiously. "Asshole," she spat.

"Sticks and stones!" He jeered, gripping hold of the straps of her top and steadying her in place. "Now, what do you think? Am I tough enough to tear this shit off of you?"

"'Tough?" She glared at him defiantly in the hopes it would incentivize him before her gaze dropped down his frame with an edge of curiosity. "I could beat your ass to the ground if we weren't here."

He jerked the straps back, a satisfying ripping sound and a small, breathless squeak leaving him smiling under his mask. "Would you look at that? At least one of us works on something besides our legs." She frowned, looking almost offended.

"I-I work on everything!" The outburst escaped her mouth before she could stop it. She pressed her lips shut as she blinked in shock at herself.

"Hmm," he hummed, eyes lingering on her exposed stomach and legs. "We'll see about that, won't we?" The sports bra/shorts combo was certainly a choice, although who was he to question the Entity's fashion choices. "I wonder if I'd be allowed to keep this bra, too. It's too bad it'll look better on you than sitting in my collection." His hands ran over her sides, stopping once or twice on the cuts he'd left, before moving up to her breasts.

She closed her eyes, her legs clamping shut as her face turned from him. "Mmn." Her jaw relaxed just a little as he caressed her, before his words fully registered. "...you kept it?" A shock in her gut dripped down to her soaked panties. She wondered if he thought of touching her when he held it in his hands, wherever he was when he wasn't killing her or her friends. She wondered if he chased his own high with his fingers thinking of her, too. "Pervert."

"I beat off with it, too," he said casually, thumbs hooking under her bra and lifting it up until her tits popped out. She squirmed more as he covered them with his palms and squeezed lightly. "At least, that's the lie I would tell. But knowing you, it'd just get you more excited," he continued, pinching and rolling her nipples under his fingers.

Meg hated his tone, like he was one move away from switching gears and gutting her. But her anger couldn't overpower the lustful moans she tried to stifle as he played with her breasts. "You don't know me," she gasped. Her toes moved her forward, bringing her closer to his fingers.

"Bullshit. I know exactly what makes you tick. I've watchedyou."

Meg felt her lips tighten inward as his touches slowed to an agonizing pace, letting her feel every nerve erupt in excitement. "I-I know, jackass. You sneak around watching all of us." A shout escaped her throat as he suddenly clamped his fingers down and pulled her forward violently.

"No, no. I've been watching you."

The strange, rubbery texture of the mouth of his red mask brushed against her cheek as he murmured, the softness of his tone not matching his rough touches. "What are you saying?" The question was meant to be confrontational. But her voice broke halfway, interrupted by a gasp of pained arousal. "That hurts - "

"Well, see, it's kind of what I do," he said idly, yanking on her nipples and causing her to yelp. "I used to follow people around for weeks before I killed them." His hands drifted from her breasts to her sides, then around to her back with the poncho that served as his shroud pressing against her bare chest. As he undid the snaps on the sports bra, he noted uneven patches of freckles that ran across her nose, only visible when he was so close to her face. "I'd learn their routines, their habits. When they woke up, when they went to work, when they got coffee with their married coworkers." He retrieved his knife again and sliced through the bra straps, pulling the unnecessary article off her quickly. "I would gather every bit of information I could, and then, when I knew I could make it work, I'd find them when they were alone." He suddenly crouched low and gripped the band of her shorts. A tug, and they were down. She wore plain underwear with a white band, although it apparently matched the color of the bra he took from her. "You can guess the rest."

Cold sweat rolled down Meg's spine. She knew he was fucked, but…god, he was sicker than she expected. "You're a psycho killer," she hissed, cheeks scarlet as she became more exposed to the dusty air and his leering eyes, "not new information." She kicked at the shorts in his hands, only for him to catch her foot in a quick, tight grasp. "So what? You have a full file on me, asshole? I'm doing the same shit as everyone else here."

He stared up at her as he tugged her sneakers off her feet and fought to keep a smirk off his face. "You're an easy read. Even here." His hand gripped her bare calf tightly, pinching the burn he previously left. "Let me guess. Not enough attention as a kid? Latent daddy issues? Self-destructive tendencies?"

Meg couldn't catch her shocked expression before it appeared, but quickly switched to anger to hide the raw feelings he revealed so callously. "Shut up. You're pulling that out of your ass." Her teeth grit as he stood and his shoulders shook. He was laughing.

Danny touched the tip of his blade to the chin of his mask, tapping his foot. "Am I missing anything, sweetheart? Maybe some uncle who touched you? A traumatic car accident? There's got to be something else." He circled around behind her, her head turning but failing to keep her eye on him. He stared at her naked back, admiring the muscles around her shoulders, and exhaled softly at the sight of two dimples visible just above her hips. He regretted not taking the time to properly memorize her body the first time, but wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Extending a hand, he let the tip of his blade trail up her spine and watched the goosebumps rise on her skin. "Did Mommy sleep around? Was that it? It would explain a lot."

"Don't fucking talk about my mother!" Meg's sudden scream seemed to surprise him for a moment as his blade jerked away from her back. Her breaths were heavy as she tried to turn her head and wipe the spit off her chin. A shuffle of fabric behind her alerted her to his movements before he gripped her hip, the handle of his knife stinging into her pelvis.

Lifting his mask up, Danny pressed his tongue against her tailbone. He traced up her spine as she wiggled in his hands, all the way up to the nape of her neck before pulling his tongue back in and lowering his lips to her ear. "I'll keep that in mind."

Meg squirmed with a strangled moan, the sensation causing her groin to warm and throb. She tried to struggle away from his grasp with a frustrated cry.

"Aw, you're breaking my heart, Red. I just got you here. I'm not in a rush to let you go." He tightened his grip momentarily before turning the handle of his knife to slip the blade under the band of her panties. "Now, shut up and stop moving before I slice open something important." With a quick motion, he cut her underwear off, allowing them to fall to the floor. Completely naked but for her leg brace, he watched as she exhaled a low, shuddering breath. Danny circled around to her front again as he pulled his mask back down, surveying her small, muscular form carefully. She was shivering, from the chill of the basement or fear or excitement, he couldn't tell. All three, hopefully. He pulled a bottle from beneath his shroud, one of the items he was careful to bring with him in case he saw her again. He shook it a little as he held it up to her. "You know, I have a little theory. You can remember a smell for as long as a year from the first time you smell it. It's connected to memory in ways other senses aren't." He turned the bottle around in his hand to show it off to her, the amber glass glinting against the unnatural, eerie light of the basement. "That's why I loved giving my targets little hints. You smell something once in the air, you look for it. When you smell it again but you can't find it, you go on alert. I wanted them ready for me." He popped the top off, holding a gloved palm out and splashing a good amount into it, before setting the bottle down on the floor. "This is my favorite scent, anyway. Gave them a clue at the very end. Made them remember me." With an almost gentle touch, he stroked her throat, breasts, and what he could reach of her wrists, marking her with the perfume. Danny wasn't sure if it would follow her after she ran through the gates - or when he killed her - but he hoped her little friends would notice it. "I want you to remember me."

Meg cried out as he glided his fingers over her sides and the alcohol seeped into the fresh cuts, leaving sharp, stinging pain that dizzied her thoughts. The scent burned her nose for several seconds with a dark and unpleasant strength before dissipating into leather and citrus and motor oil, when a jolt of a memory shocked her mind. An early memory, possibly her earliest, of being small and sitting on the toilet lid of her mother's bathroom. Watching the man staring into the mirror with a razor in one hand, pulling at his scratchy, alcohol-reeking whiskers with the other. Slapping the strong, masculine aftershave from an amber bottle onto his cheeks and only giving her a passing glance before he left the room. Meg released a sudden cough to conceal a pained sob. Christ, what the hell had she done to the Entity that it hated her so much?

"Ooh, see? You just remembered something fun. Tell me?" Less a question than a demand, he thought, as the words left his mouth. Danny unzipped his jeans, tugging them down and kicking them to the side. His cock pulsed in his hand as he watched her squirm, her toned legs desperately trying to cover her dripping shame.

A flash of lustful anger brushed all other wildly conflicting feelings aside as she stared at his length in eager anticipation. Her eyes met his mask with a challenging expression. "Are you gonna do it? Or keep jerking yourself off while you play detective?"

He yanked her legs up and spread her, pushing his cock against her opening. "You're such a mouthy bitch. No wonder I'm the only one who'll fuck you."

"You're desperate enough to come back," she taunted, panting in excitement as his warmth met hers.

Irritated, Danny shoved his full length into her without warning, inciting a sudden cry of fear and desire from her. "Shut the fuck up. I can still gut you like a fish anytime I want."

Meg grit her teeth, breathing through the pain and focusing on how good he felt inside her. "I hate you," she seethed, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Danny pulled his hips back as she held him in, threatening to trap him in place. "Not what your body says," he responded, jaw tight and eyes focusing through the dark mesh of his mask. He wanted to remember this look, this animal fierceness she was showing. It made the most primal parts of his brain activate, made him want to fuck her until she couldn't stand anymore, then slice her throat open just to watch the crimson cover her naked body. He slammed himself into her when she whined loudly in pain. Did it hurt already? They hadn't even gotten to the good part yet, and she was soaked enough it wasn't supposed to hurt that much, yet. He suddenly realized he still had his knife in his hand, the blade pressing against the back of her leg as he held her. He let it clatter to the ground and sped up his thrusts with a low sigh.

"Mmn..mnn…!" Meg stifled her sounds and struggled against the ropes above her as every thought that wasn't screaming in pleasure at his rough pumps told her to grip his shoulders for support. Her legs tightened around him as his pace picked up when she felt his hand push into the small of her back and tip her hips forward. Her mouth opened suddenly in shock as he dove deeper within her and her noises were made uninhibited. "Ah, fuck - !"

"Christ," he hissed, a hot, fuzzy fog clouding his thoughts as her body responded to his. "You're such a pro at this. Bet you were popular with the boys on the football team."

"I hate you," she repeated, quieter than before and choked in a gasp, her head leaned back between her arms with her eyes closed.

"Sure, that's why you're locking me in like you want me to knock you up. Fucking slut."

Her head snapped up again, and she clenched her fists as she stared at his goddamn stupid, ugly mask. With a growl of effort, she steeled her core and squeezed her thighs against his hips. She swung herself forward down his shaft with a curl of her abdomen, and she thought she heard something like a grunt or a gasp beneath the red plastic. Her breathing increased rapidly as she attempted to match his previous rhythm.

Danny had to hold back a shout of surprise as she crashed into him. Goddamn her physical strength. "R-Right, you're fit and shit. I forgot."

Was that a stammer in his response? "I told you, dumbass," she managed between inhales, "I could beat you to the fucking ground."

"So what was it, gym bunny? Post-breakup life change? Infomercial for a weight-loss supplement? What got you into the Atkins lifestyle?" He didn't really care, but anything to keep her from making him finish inside immediately would help. But for some reason, she froze in his arms, her face screwed up in genuine confusion."...what?" His hands held her hips in place for an awkward, silent moment as her brows lowered."...how...old are you, exactly?"

"...I'm... 28...?" Yikes, having your cock inside someone when neither of you were moving was an unpleasant experience. Not as unpleasant as the realization that her bizarre behavior had made him spill out an honest answer, but still, unpleasant.

Her mouth opened, then snapped shut. Maybe he was just...one of those nostalgia-obsessed nerds. That was it. "You're a fossil," she teased, pulling him back into her with a squeeze of her calves against his back.

"Shut up, we're both adults," he muttered, looking away in irritation. He wasn't even that old. Christ, he wasn't even 30.

"You don't know that," she huffed softly.

Danny grimaced. "Listen, Red, I'm a lot of things, but I'm not a goddamn kiddie diddler." He wasn't about to be lumped in with the freak in the striped sweater that lurked in the woods outside of the trials. They had crossed paths, once, and that was all it took for Danny to decide he would avoid him in the future.

Meg frowned as he fell silent when she expected some additional snide remark. Did that…bother him? "Holy shit, I'm kidding." She chose not to divulge that he had nearly ten years on her regardless.

"You'd better be."

"Wish I knew that was your line last time. You would've left me alone if I just lied." The mask stared at her with empty sockets and his movements resumed, slow enough to allow each stroke to be felt deeply inside.

Holding her close with one hand, Danny brought the other to her face and cradled her cheek. He rested his thumb on her lips, and she looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"What?" Her tone was guarded and sharp against his finger.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?"

Her heart fluttered. Not in arousal. Not in fear. Not at the words, but his quiet, almost chastised voice. His suddenly gentle movements dazed her. "...no," she admitted, so softly she barely heard it herself.

Danny dragged his thumb across her lips and teeth, staining them with her blood and the blood of her friends. The returned tension in her jaw told him just how much she wanted to bite down on him. "Well, if my girl says she wants something, she gets it," he chuckled, and her face screwed up in anger.

Meg tasted iron on the leather and attempted to spit him out, recoiling from his unpleasantly familiar taunting tone. "I'm not your girl," she growled, moving her hips to match his returned pace. He shoved his thumb between her lips and onto her tongue, pressing lightly against it to force her mouth open and prevent her from stifling a moan.

"Mmh," he hummed, pulling out and dropping her legs back to the floor. "We'll see." Bending down, he grabbed his knife, standing with a quick slice through the knots holding her up to the hook. She let out a yelp of surprise as she fell to the ground, wincing as she bruised her knees and forearms from the rough landing. He smiled to himself as he noted the knots at her wrists remained in place. The redhead stared up at him, annoyance and excitement alternating in her expression as she appeared to wait for his next move. She didn't have to wait for long. He moved swiftly behind her and pushed her torso forward forcefully, making a high, clipped cry leave her throat. Her head and arms pressed against the bloody metal floor of the basement as he kept her ass in the air. With gloved hands, he spread her open, reveling in the chance to see her in such a compromising position. "You should be grateful. Most girls beg me to get them like this."

She turned her head and rested it on one of her forearms, up from the cold gray floor. "Doubtful," she grunted, before lifting her ass further up for him.

He pushed inside her again and groaned as she squeezed around him. "Your cunt is always so eager for me. Explain that, if you hate me so much, hmm?"

"Shut up. Don't stop." Meg perked her ass up enticingly as his own heavy breathing became clearer beneath his mask. His teases and movements coaxed submissive, needy sounds from her mouth.

Danny huffed as he slid in and out of her, his hands on her hips as he moved. "You sound good. What kind of noises would you make if I stuck it up your ass, huh? I bet you've never even tried that, have you?" A strange sound came out of her. It took a second for him to realize it was a sarcastic laugh, one where her mouth didn't quite turn upward.

"Your virgin complex is pathetic."

Danny's lips curled into a snarl and he pulled quickly out of her pussy, pressing himself hard into her asshole until the slight resistance gave way.

Her eyes screwed shut as she screamed. But it only took a few strokes inside her for the sounds to soften into tentative whimpers of pleasure, and her eyes half-opened slowly and watered violently.

"That's it," he panted, "take it like a good little whore." Instead of the anger he expected out of her, her irises rolled up, and a small trail of spit appeared as her lower lip moved against her arm. "Goddamn, Red. How many boys did you fuck? It takes a lot of practice to make someone as eager as you."

She grit her teeth in response, fiery rage and lust intermingling. "You're just another to add to the list." His movements hurt almost as much as they turned her on. She needed him to keep going. She didn't want to think about why she was letting him touch her, why she wanted his hands to control her body, why she wanted him, specifically, instead of any of the potential willing partners back at the campfire - "F-fuck," she whimpered, spreading her knees further apart as she felt her slit drip.

"Could say the same about you," he grunted, bringing a gloved hand down on her ass with a loud slap. She only flinched a little when he struck her and left the skin warm and red. "Stupid sluts like you stop counting after a while, anyway. I stopped counting after my fifth. She cried and begged me to stop." He hit her again, grasping the tender spot once he made contact. Why was this making her tighten around him?

Meg buried her head into her bound wrists as her body rocked back and forth at his force, arching herself as far as she could go. Her cheeks burned as hot tears dripped against her cold arms. "I hate you so fucking much."

Her angry, tearful words nearly sent him over the edge right there and then, but he kept his composure and pushed into her as deep as he could fit. "I know you do. It's why I love fucking with you."

A choked sob betrayed how much it hurt, but something rewired in her nerves as she felt him invade deep inside her. A throbbing, aching longing for more. She lifted her head up and breathed through the pain before speaking just above a whisper. "Harder."

"Mmm, there you go," Danny purred as her hips rolled back against his. "Christ, you're gonna make me shoot my load inside your ass if you keep moving like that..."

"Harder!" Meg's voice rose to a high pitched cry as her fingers interlocked, using her core and thighs to keep up with him. She hated when he made his voice sound like that, velvet and venomous and so annoyingly hot. "Fuck, you're slow!" she lied between gasps.

Danny clenched his jaw and picked up his pace, the sounds of their skin slapping together mixing with her mewls and moans. "God - fucking - damn it!" He choked a word out between each thrust, feeling beads of sweat forming underneath the mask. She was too much; he could feel his peak approaching rapidly. He moved one hand from her hip to the back of her head and forced her down again, face on the cold floor, and gripped her tighter with his other hand. "You want this to stop, Red? You want me to be done?"

Acrid blood coated her tongue as she bit down on accident. She could only hope it was her own as one eye closed against the dark pool on the metal below her cheek. With a snarl she knew he couldn't see, she opened her mouth to spit fire back at him when his hand tangled into her hair again. A desperate, pained groan was her only response. How his violent movements had gotten her so close to the edge, she didn't care, only that he did what he could to completely push her over.

"Answer me!" He shouted, jerking her head up.

She cried again, her scalp aching from his fingers, as her mouth twisted in furious defiance. "Fucking do it already!"

He yanked himself out of her ass, placing his cock just below her tailbone, and felt his gut wrench as his balls emptied. The thick, pearlescent fluid shot in an arc, covering her back and dribbling as it landed. "Oh my... fucking god..." he groaned, the last of his load leaking down his shaft towards her pussy.

Meg felt her entrance twitch and throb in anticipation as he spilled down her back, reaching as far as between her shoulder blades and nearly getting into her hair as he released her from his hold. She looked behind her to see his figure swaying as he breathed heavily under his mask. "All that talk, and you still get off like you've never fucked before."

"Saved it for you, Red," he sighed, settling back onto the floor carefully. "Needed to mark my territory."

To her annoyance, the idea of being his territory made her slit gush. "You're so obsessed, it's pathetic." Her legs suddenly gave way beneath her, and she rolled onto her side to stare back at him with blurry vision that she barely registered amid her increasing irritation. "I'm still here, asshole." She could hear him release a low, scornful laugh behind her.

"And I suppose you want me to do something about it." He brought himself to his feet once he was certain he could without stumbling and picked his jeans off the floor.

"Hey!" He ignored her with his back turned as he dressed. Meg grit her teeth, more angry at herself now for expecting anything more from him. "God, you're a dick!" Pain erupted at her hips and sides as her passion cooled and she became vaguely aware of the steady drain of blood from the slices in her skin. She struggled weakly against the ropes on her wrists with a frustrated grunt.

With a sigh, Danny picked his knife up and approached her. She flinched at his sudden movement, and even though her motions were clearly labored, she attempted to wiggle away from him. He scoffed as he chased her wrists with his hands. "Fucking stop, let me untie you, you stupid bitch." Her glare returned, but she stopped moving long enough to allow him to cut the rope. Newly freed, she rubbed at her wrists as she lay silent at her side, her eyes never leaving his mask. "You're pathetic," Danny muttered, reaching down to pick her up. She whined weakly as he hoisted her onto his shoulder. He pressed his fingertips at her waist, and she quieted down enough for him to speak over her. "Relax, I'm not hooking you. There's usually something to heal with in the chests down here, right?"

The room swayed as he lifted her and walked to the back corner of the basement, a small alcove that was somehow even darker than the rest of the space. She was too exhausted and injured to fight his admittedly light hold on her. Her head rose slightly, though, at his question. "What?"

"You fucks are always running down here once you've used up your medkits, and then somehow you're healed up. It just makes sense," he explained, setting her down on the ground and opening the chest at the end of the room. As he rummaged through it, he glanced over to see her staring up at him from her position on the floor. "What?"

Meg lifted herself up with one arm, her eyes wide and bewildered as he returned to his search with a shake of his head. Her voice was small when she finally spoke. "You gave me one last time, too." Silence. "Why?"

Danny rolled his eyes, even though he knew she couldn't see it, and shot back "Do you always answer every goddamn question with another question? I don't need you bleeding out on me, that's why. We aren't done."

Meg opened her mouth to respond, but he threw a red box into her hands before she could form a coherent sentence, her cheeks flush again.

He stood, then sighed as he watched her struggle to get the box open as she lay on the floor. "Holy shit, you're useless. No wonder no one likes you." He gripped her arm in his hand and dragged her up, steadying her into a kneel. With a shake of his head he stepped away, pulling at a buckle beneath his red-streaked shroud. "Hurry up."

With tight lips, Meg opened the medkit and pulled a cloth and a bottle of alcohol out. She could feel his eyes watching her as he paced behind her while she poured the liquid into the fabric. With a wince, she pressed the cloth against her hip and side, reminding herself to wipe down the sticky residue she could reach from her back once everything else was clean. Meg hissed as the alcohol cleansed a particularly nasty cut. It hurt, but her wounds were shallow, and none of them would require sutures. She was grateful for that, at least. Her fingers weren't steady enough for that kind of work. Meg brought the cloth up to her cheek and rubbed away the smears of blood on her face. Her brow furrowed into a glare as she felt a tug on her back braid, soft touches parting the plait and the hair at the base of her scalp. "What are you doing?" she snapped.

"It looked tight," he muttered, running gloved fingers through the hair to untangle it. "You look better without that stupid middle braid anyway. Who the hell taught you to do that?"

Copper strands fell into her eyes, but she was too focused on stopping the bleeding on her sides to stop him from pulling the elastic on the left braid. Another painful memory surfaced, this time of her mother standing in front of her with a handheld mirror, coaching her through the process of braiding her own hair as a tween. She exhaled through the pain and wiped the side of her face with the corner of cloth not soaked in solution. With a huff, she grabbed at the box to retrieve a roll of bandages, only for it to slip out of her fingers and onto the ground. She made a frustrated sound as he kicked it back towards her, and she looked back with a scowl.

He lifted his palms to the air in a shrug. "I can't help you, dumbass."

"I know you won't," she grumbled.

"Not won't. I can't." He crouched behind her, and she froze as he reached around her and down to the open medkit in her lap. "Look." Once his fingers were close enough, a strange humming sound rang from the box as tiny, black spikes crossed the contents, making them irretrievable. "It won't let me. And it usually lets me do pretty much anything I want." He paused, retracting his hand enough for the spikes to retreat. "But you're right, I won't."

Meg swung the hand grasping the cloth at his unwelcome fist, and he suddenly hissed in surprise as he pulled away entirely and stood away. She turned her head to see him holding his wrist, a sliver of skin exposed between a long black sleeve and the fasten on his glove.

"...didn't know you could do that," he muttered under his breath, staring at a cut below his palm he hadn't been aware of - probably from grabbing one of the jackasses mid-chase - rapidly healing where her cloth touched him. That didn't make sense. Why would that matter, if he always recovered from his mild injuries after a trial?

Meg shoved a handful of tablets into her mouth and swallowed with considerable effort, grateful that they worked quickly in trials to alleviate some of the stinging. She wiped her mouth and shakily pressed her palm against the floor to stand herself up. "Do wha - ?" Her question was cut off with a grunt as his hand gripped her shoulder and pulled her backwards. The back of her head hit the ground as he rushed in front of her, cloth rustling as he pinned her down. Meg attempted to push him away with flailing arms. "Get off!"

"Ah, I already did that." Danny pressed his knife to her throat and grabbed one of her wrists with his free hand. The sound of his own breathing grew louder in his ears as she squirmed beneath him, just enough for the blade to bite into her skin and draw a drop of blood. "Shh. Behave."

Her eyelashes fluttered as she felt her fear and anticipation grow in her chest. She kept herself as still as possible, despite her chest rising and falling in quick, rapid breaths like an outpaced rabbit.

With a light touch, Danny pulled the blade away from her throat and ran the tip along her jaw as her lower lip trembled. "I told you, we're not done." He tucked the knife behind him into its sheath, freeing his other hand so he could hold both of her arms down. "Now you're going to do as I say, without talking back. Got it?"

Meg could feel every pulsating heartbeat in her chest. In her wrists. Between her legs. She sighed softly as he touched her. A strange, eerie feeling assured her to...not trust him, exactly. But to allow the transaction. She nodded silently and pursed her lips, muffling another sigh.

He released her wrists and watched her face fall as he stopped touching her. With an open palm, he pressed lightly on the center of her chest before standing. Slowly, without taking his gaze from her, he circled her, watching her follow him with her eyes."Touch yourself for me, gorgeous. And be quiet. Or I'll find more places to cut." His boots made low thudding sounds as he paced around her. "Do exactly what you want to do when you think of me fucking you."

Her stomach rose and fell as hot, annoyed breaths blew through her nose. Despite already laying naked in front of him, it felt like he was mentally peeling her open, trying to see her in every vulnerable state he could. She opened her mouth to protest when he held a finger against the long mouth of his mask. Heat rose to her cheeks as she propped herself up with her arm and moved her other hand down her body. Her fingers reached lips still wet from his earlier attention, and she stared up in defiance as she stroked without parting herself further.

An annoyed scoff came from under the mask. "Come on, Red. That's all I make you want to do? You're holding out on me."

"You've never watched a girl touch herself, have you?" she taunted softly, closing her eyes. She slipped her index and middle finger between her lips, exhaling as she circled around her clit. Her head tilted back slightly as she pressed against herself, and noted with satisfaction that she couldn't hear him moving anymore. He was staring.

It was admittedly mesmerizing, and he felt himself getting hard again in spite of everything. With a deep sigh, he tilted his mask up to allow himself to see her better; her eyes were shut, so it wasn't like she'd catch a glimpse of his face. He could pull it back down just as easily.

Her temple wrinkled for just a second before relaxing again. Something about his sigh sounded different. Something about it made her excited. She focused on it, her fingers moving down and sliding inside herself, imagining his stupid, throbbing cock inside her again. "Mmn."

"There you go," he encouraged in a low tone, "That's a good girl."

Meg's breathing deepened as her fingers became sticky and soaked, pulling in and out. She almost opened her eyes enough to see beneath her lashes, only to shut them again against a blinding flash of light that came with a whirring click.

"Good. This needs to be saved for posterity," Danny chuckled. "You're doing so well."

"Enjoy while you can, asshole," she huffed quietly, the hair on one side of her face tickling her shoulder. She shook her head back, biting her lip to hold back a moan as her fingers moved back to her clit.

"C'mon now." Snap. Another good one."You can't believe I won't save these, sweetheart." Snap. "Good expression in that one."

"Sh-shut up," she gasped, her hand gliding between her lips as her hips twitched upwards. Each snap of the camera's shutter made her clit throb and ache for him to stop whatever he was doing and get his hands back on her body.

"Hang on." He moved from her feet to crouch at her side, keeping his camera dangling from the strap around his wrist.

A rustle of stiff fabric that grew louder in her ears told her he was close, a feeling that was confirmed as she felt a pull on her remaining braid. She almost opened her eyes with a quiet, pleading whine, only to be lost in darkness as his hand covered her face.

"Don't look." He pulled her hair free and shook it loose. "Much better. Shame you don't wear it down more often."

She shivered, stroking her clit slowly as his glove remained over her eyes. His voice was too loud and clear to be inhibited by the mask. "What…what are you doing?"

"No peeking." Danny tried to make his voice sound as level as possible, but closed his fingers tightly together so nothing would catch in her vision. Nobody looked under his mask and lived. He wasn't about to let her be an exception. His shroud brushed against his free hand. With a small smile, he slowly removed his fingers from her eyes. Once he was satisfied she was keeping them closed, he took a section of the edge of the shroud in both hands and tore a long strip away. Her head turned towards the sound as her eyebrows bunched up in worry. He pulled the makeshift blindfold around her eyes and tied it in the back with a smirk.

Meg whimpered, moving her hand lower and pumping two fingers inside as she realized what he was doing. In complete darkness, she felt something that could've been his glove touching her cheek momentarily before he pulled away. The shutter clicked again, and she let out a breathy, desperate moan.

"I think you're starting to enjoy this." Danny crept over her legs and crouched low, keeping her mouth in frame as he snapped a shot of her fucking herself. "Smile. This one is just for me." He stared at her body through the lens of his camera. He almost felt a little cheated knowing that the images wouldn't fully capture the shadows created by the tight muscles on her stomach or the shameful, pink tint that crept around her cheeks and breasts. Her belly rose and fell quickly as her sounds began to sound similar to the noises he incited out of her in the police station. Danny dropped his camera to the ground and let it disappear into ash. "You know, if I were nice... I'd let you cum. But have I ever been nice to you?" He reached down to the hand moving furiously against her slit, gripping her wrist and pulling it away. "Hands off."

She jerked her arm away from him, only for his grasp to constrict. "F-fuck, what's with you?!" Her voice was so pathetic to her own ears, she couldn't imagine how it sounded to him. She struggled her arm against his hold, but his unnatural strength kept her in place. "Let me finish, you dick!"

"Do you want to die?" He squeezed her wrist tight enough to threaten snapping it and raised his voice over her cry of pain as she recoiled away. "Stop touching. And don't look. Are you so stupid you can't follow two simple orders?" He watched another tear drip from beneath the blindfold and into her hair as she shook her head with a small motion. She was breaking. Satisfied, he released her arm. He dragged his gaze up and down her filthy body, hoping that with his unhindered vision he could memorize the curve of her hips and breasts without the help of photographs. He settled himself back down behind her, grasping beneath her arms and pulling her up to his chest and between his legs. "Then let's see if you can follow three." The Ghostface pushed his mask up further until the red jaw exited his view, falling to the floor as the hood dropped. He squeezed her breasts in his palms and kept his mouth against her ear. Her neck was tantalizingly close, now. "Don't cum until I say so. Got it?"

Meg whimpered as she felt his lips brush her earlobe, his voice unnaturally loud without the muffle of the mask. But his hands felt so good. "Y-yes."

"Yes, what?"

Her mouth twisted from confusion to annoyance. "I'm not - nnh -" He rolled her nipples in his fingers. Meg felt her pride shatter under his touch. "...yes, sir."

"See? It pays to be obedient." She squirmed beneath him and he tugged at her nipples harder. "What do you say, for trying to disobey me?"

She turned her face away, even though it still rested against his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she choked out, her fingernails digging into the floor.

"Sorry, and...?"

"A-and I won't do it again," she squeaked. She felt a warm wetness at the side of her neck and made a sharp, crying gasp as his teeth sunk into her skin.

"You won't, or I'll kill you," he hissed. He bit again, harder this time, leaving angry indentations and earning a short scream out of her before he continued against her neck. "Shut up. There's an artery here. I'll cut it open if you aren't careful."

She made a sound that was almost a sob. "Please stop."

"I could rip it open. I'm strong enough. It would let me."

His mouth pressed against her throat again and she flinched away before realizing he had only planted his lips there. She couldn't stop the sudden twitch of her hips.

"I saw that. Fuck's sake, do you seriously get off thinking of me killing you?" He laughed, low and hot against her ear, and licked where he'd bitten her. "You're a disgusting fucking freak, Red. I love it."

White-hot anger flared in Meg's guts, but only towards herself and the way she moved her shoulder just a little closer to his mouth. She wanted him to shut the fuck up, she never wanted him to stop talking. He hummed in approval against her neck before he removed his fingers from her breasts.

Danny's hands hovered over her as he pulled one of his gloves off. He felt a surprising rush of anticipation as he lowered his fingers onto her stomach. It had been so long since he had touched anyone's skin with his bare hands. Her abs were solid. Definitely the body of someone who'd had a religious workout routine. But there was something so soft about her body, too; so easily destroyed. He traced his fingers along the grooves, eliciting a shiver from her, before smirking and blowing air through his nose. Down, now, towards where she was slick and warm, and he slid a finger along her soaked lips. "Are you that desperate? How long has it been since a man touched you?"

"I-I've been focused on - not - fuck -" Her thighs pulled apart, giving him as much access as possible as she gasped out pitiful cries. How long had it been? Before he cornered her in the police station...it had been however long she had been trapped with the Entity. But before that...well. Denver was a big place. It was easier to find willing partners who would help her forget her troubles for the night, then forget her the next day, when they weren't trapped in the same hellscape.

"Have you been waiting for me this whole time?"

She wished her current partner would forget her. Almost. The feeling of bare skin grazing against her clit was enough to convince her she could allow it for however long it took, insane as it was. "Fucking touch me if you're going to!"

Danny shushed her, slipping the fingers of his left hand inside as his right went to her mouth. "Red, Red. You're so loud. Would you want your little buddies to see you like this?" At that, he circled his thumb over her clit while pumping with his middle and ring finger, and he felt her groan into his hand.

Meg struggled to keep herself in place so he wouldn't stop, but she was already so painfully close, and she kept bucking against him, and his mouth was still against her neck and his hand against her mouth - she made a sudden scream against his palm as her hand shot up from the floor, reaching for the back of his head. Short, closely-cropped hair tickled her fingers as she pulled him closer to her and let out more muffled whines.

Danny grit his teeth to bite back his own groan at her hand against his scalp and quickly moved his hand from her mouth to her throat. She gasped sharply as he squeezed, the soft sound giving way to pleading whines. "You want to do it? Make a fucking mess of yourself and finish all over the floor like an animal? Beg me for it, you little slut. Beg like a bitch."

Her eyes rolled back and her sight fixed on the darkness behind her eyelids as the pressure at her throat and entrance became unbearable. The pleasurable dizziness from before had returned in full force. "Please," she whispered, opening her hips as much as she could, strangely preoccupied with the way his breath sounded in her ears. "Please…please...!"

"Say it. Say my name."

Lashes fluttering, mouth open in a strangled sigh, she tilted her head back against his shoulder and silenced all shame and irritation down her throat as her fingers gripped what she could of his hair and pulled. "Ghostface. Please."

"Cum for me." Danny refocused his attention onto her clit, listening to her breathing intensify. Her gasps became groans and her hips twitched and shook as she went over the edge. His cock throbbed as he felt her lose herself and she choked out a wild, uninhibited moan. "That's it. Keep going."

Meg's core tightened as she bucked forward. His hands moved around her lips and thighs, fingers warm and soaked from her mess. The low, heavy sigh he released prolonged the high of her orgasm as she rolled her head against his torso. A better high than running for miles. A better high than she could ever achieve alone. Better than even the last time.

He ran his fingers along her slit, tracing around her entrance with a soft laugh. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

She came down slowly, her stomach and chest heaving as she became more aware of her own depraved sounds and silenced herself. In the quiet, it became apparent to her that she could feel his hot exhales against her lips. When she felt him move a little closer, she quickly turned her head away with a hot flush on her cheeks. A few moments passed with only the steady hum of the black fog that hid below the basement floor before she muttered "I know that's not your real name, stupid."

Danny removed his hands from her and stood up, wiping them off on his jeans and turning away from her. "No shit," he shot back quietly. He scooped his mask off the floor and adjusted it to sit on his forehead.

She tore the blindfold away from her face and stared straight ahead of herself. The clearness of his voice, despite the harsh words that he spoke, was as normal as it was unsettling. If she had heard him speak in reality, she wouldn't have guessed he was a killer. Which was probably the point. "Did you just look at the mask and pick the first words you thought of? Or did you get it from some stupid generator online and find a costume to match?"

Settling back down behind her, he pulled her shoulders into his chest. "Maybe I'll tell you about that someday. Maybe. Not today." He frowned as she twitched her torso away from him. Danny squeezed her arms with a lighter force than he had before to get her to settle down. "You seriously gonna come and go again?"

Her movements slowed, lips pursed as her heartbeat settled into a normal rhythm in spite of his hands on her.

"Just relax. I won't kill you. Promise." Danny reached into his jean pocket to retrieve the lighter and nearly empty box of cigarettes he'd taken from the man he'd hooked earlier. As he placed one in his mouth, he hoped he'd be able to taste it - what the Entity would let him enjoy was inconsistent. He lit the end and breathed in, curling his lips upward as the taste of smoke filled his mouth and lungs. He shifted her in his arms and blew a gray cloud in her face. Her eyes scrunched together as she grimaced, but she didn't jerk her head back or cough like he thought she would. As the smoke dissipated, he forced the cigarette into her mouth. He couldn't help a small smirk as she took it in her fingers with a familiar motion and took a long drag. "Smoking isn't good for you," he taunted, pulling the last cigarette from the box and placing it between his teeth.

"God, shut up." She sighed out smoke as her shoulders relaxed, moving them so he could place his head somewhere she couldn't see it without turning her own. "You don't think that really matters now, do you?"

"Nah," he replied casually, taking a deep drag. "Nothing does. Nothing ever did, if you ask me."

Meg crossed her arms beneath her breasts in a half-hearted attempt to warm herself against the cool air as she twisted the cigarette between her lips. She removed it with a huff and a shake of her head. "I guess if nothing matters, you can do whatever the hell you want."

"Mmm," Danny hummed in response, taking a long pull and exhaling the smoke through his nostrils. Some of it was trapped under the mask hovering in his upper field of view, and he was thankful that the smell didn't linger on his outfit like it did... 'before'. Jesus, that was such a strange way to think about it, like all of this was a new chapter that might someday come to an end. From what he'd gathered, once you were pulled in, you were a plaything for the rest of time. Even with how little he'd talked to other sentient things in this place, he knew some of them had been here far longer than he had. He'd jotted it down in a notebook, just like he used to. It was always good to have knowledge. "So, where'd you pick up smoking? For someone who runs like you, it's a nasty fuckin' habit to be into."

She scoffed and actually managed a dry laugh. "Roof of St. Bernadette's School for Girls." The parish paid for her first two years of high school. A poor substitution for the money she wished had gone to doctor's bills. She half-smiled at a brief memory of being chased down by one of the sisters, long before she ever learned proper form for her strides. The smile disappeared as the memory melted into that afternoon, a stern man in a white collar warning her the only reason she wasn't expelled was out of pity for her mother's newly discovered condition. Then her mother's silent, sad expression when she recognized the smell on her clothes. Meg took another drag, holding the smoke in her lungs longer than usual before exhaling.

"...Seriously?" Danny couldn't quite picture her as the type.

"Mmhm. It's been a while since my last one, though."

His heartbeat quickened. "Uniforms and everything?" She rolled her eyes, but nodded, and he unwittingly summoned the mental image of her in a tartan, too-short skirt and button-up blouse with a coquettishly undone tie. "Explains why you're here."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped.

Danny smirked and touched one of the dark cuts with his thumb and index, opening it slightly and relishing her jerk away from him. "You're in Hell, gorgeous. You were so bad, you got your own personal devil to punish you." He chuckled slightly as she remained eerily silent with a shallow inhale, a sign he took as a flash of genuine terror. "I'm fucking with you. Or am I?"

She glared at the post in the center of the room, grazing her teeth along the end of the cigarette in her mouth. "You don't do anything but fuck with me," she grumbled around it, shaking her head slightly. A hand came up around her skull, and she flinched before realizing he wasn't tearing at her hair. He'd just pulled his fingers through again.

"You a natural redhead?" She nearly turned around, presumably to glare at him, before he brought his other hand up to turn her head back and almost burned her cheek with his cigarette. "Joking. Anyway." He ran his fingers along her side, more careful this time to avoid the cuts. She exhaled shakily and he smirked. "Thanks for a great second date."

Meg recoiled from his fingers. "Oh, no. No, no, no. That is absolutely not what this is." She took the cigarette out of her mouth and threw it in the corner, making a face of disgust.

Danny tossed his to the ground as well and smushed it beneath a gloved hand, tilting his mask back down over his face as he let out a low laugh. "Were you expecting dinner and a movie? This is as good as it's gonna get, babe. Nothing fancy down here, I'm afraid."

"This isn't anything. This was...a mistake." She shook her head again as she peeled her bare back away from the vinyl shroud and struggled to get herself back onto her feet without compromising whatever shred of dignity she could pretend she had.

Danny stood and pulled on his glove, running the hand along his sheath to make sure the blade was tucked in properly. "Then let's make a deal, Red. Whenever we're in the same place, at the same time...you can buy some time for your friends. I get to satisfy my needs, and you get to live. It's a win-win."

"A-absolutely not." She finally peeked behind her. His mask was back on. Meg gave him her most scathing look before she stumbled back to the hook to find whatever clothing she could salvage. He destroyed the crop top and the underwear, but the bra was thankfully only torn in places she could tie, and her shoes and shorts were untouched. She bent over to pick her shorts up, only to make a sudden squeak as firm hands gripped her hips and pulled her back and around. Her stomach and breasts pressed against his shroud as he held her in place.

"You don't sound sure," he whispered in a dangerous, low tone, fingers delicately stroking first along the red slices in her skin before cupping a breast and giving it a squeeze. "Do I need to convince you again?"

"No," Meg whined, although an unwelcome voice in her head screamed the opposite in wild excitement.

"Then... do we have a deal?" He watched her mouth nearly move into a yes before she scowled at him.

"Do you even know my name?"

A pause and a quiet tilt of the mask.

She scoffed and turned to hide the scarlet flush she felt creeping up her cheeks as she tore herself out of his grip. "So much for knowing everything about me." She would die a million deaths before she told him that annoyed her. She frowned, then shook her head as she grabbed her clothes off the floor. No. Not even then.

He released a low, frustrated huff of an exhale, but his next words were tinged with a wicked edge that betrayed the smile on his face. "I don't need to. You're my Red."

Meg rolled her eyes and tossed her hair to the side to tie the frayed edges of her bra straps together in the back. "I'm not your anything," she insisted angrily, although her words were cut off as she felt him grasp the strands yet again and tug hard enough for her to cry out. "Fucking - stop that!"

"Well. You don't need to know my name, either," he whispered. "Purely anonymous, just a way to work out our individual, fucked up kinks. How do those terms sound?"

She twisted herself around, his fingers still interlocked in her hair but not gripping tight, and stared down the black sockets of the devil's face. For just a moment, she thought she saw a glint of light reflecting an eye beneath the mesh of the mask. Burning, bubbling rage in her stomach encouraged her to slap him hard enough to knock it off. But instead, she kept her mouth a hard line as she nodded silently.

Before Danny could respond, the telltale pinging of a generator in the distance signaled the imminent end of the trial. She looked upward, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Sounds like you gotta go, Red." He did his best to sound taunting and playful, though he didn't really want her to leave. His hands unwound from her hair and he stepped back, breaking their contact and allowing her to collect herself. "Better get out of here quick, before I change my mind and let it have a meal." Instead of running, though, she stared at him. His head tilted to the side as she took a few steps closer with her eyes trained on his mask. Her brows were still lowered in annoyance, but she had relaxed her mouth into something that was almost a cute pout. She was close, close enough that if he wanted to, he could strike her without much effort. Or grab her. He reached his hands out again, but slowly, following a strange urge to not frighten her off.

She stopped in front of him and bent down, picking up something small off the ground. Her eyes lingered on his hands before she looked away, flipped her hair back, and tied it in a messy ponytail with her elastic band. "Okay. Um...bye."

His hands fell to his sides and he gave a simple nod. Her eyes shifted as she looked like she wanted to say something else, but turned without another word. His eyes never left her back as she made her way slowly up the stairs, out of the basement and away from him.

Meg only made it a few steps out of the house when she felt the bra straps come undone. "Goddammit." She reached behind her and attempted to retie it as she kept at a jogger's pace, looking around herself for the exit. She almost hoped she would find one that wasn't touched yet. Her teammate could leave separately from her. That thought was quickly stopped, though, as she ran past a series of walls and spotted Claire on the handle.

The brunette turned at a strange, pleasant smell on the air and the sound of Meg's approaching breathing. Claire's eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her free hand as she saw her teammate emerge from the walled area. "Oh, Meg - !"

"Open the gate," Meg huffed, completing the knot behind her neck.

Claire's cheeks flushed as she looked back at the gate lever. "Right."

Meg clutched at her own arms, rubbing them with nervous energy as her eyes darted around the area. "I ran him long enough for you?"

"Um…yeah."

The beeping of the alarm above the exit lever rang loudly in the silence between the two women. Meg cleared her throat a little too loudly. "I fell. Fucked up my clothes. But I'm glad you got it all done." The exit gate pulled open, and Claire dropped her hand from the lever with a guilty look. Meg frowned. "What? What is it?"

"Meg." Claire's eyes darted around, everywhere except the extremely disheveled redhead's face. "Dwight...taught me how to do that…aura reading thing…and um...I could see your aura when I went past the house." A sound erupted from Meg's direction that would've been comical if Claire didn't know how upsetting this information was.

Meg dashed to Claire and grabbed her shoulders with a shake. "What."

A nervous laugh came out of Claire unbidden, and she shook her head rapidly to avoid getting punched. "I just - I know. I saw you. Not you, exactly. But...I know you and -"

"It was Ace," Meg interrupted suddenly, her voice high and desperate.

Claire tried to look as understanding as possible. "Ace was out before that. And I know it wasn't… it wasn't Chris." The athletic girl's eyes widened before her mouth transformed into a snarl.

Meg released Claire and clenched her fists out of a primal urge to protect herself as she felt her face rapidly shift to a deep pink color. "If you ever say anything about this, I-I'll -"

"No! No, I wouldn't tell anyone!" Claire reached a hand out with what she hoped came across as genuine concern, even as Meg snatched her own hand away. "I just...I want to make sure you're okay."

"Let's go. Please."

"I get it. Please believe me. I getit." Claire's eyes flicked away with her own embarrassed flush. "I won't tell. And you aren't alone."

Meg blinked, certain she didn't want to fully understand what Claire was telling her, and shook her head. "It's fine. I'm fine. Okay? Just don't…I don't want to talk about it."

Claire frowned, but nodded. "Here, take this." She pulled the red jacket off her arms and handed it to the other girl, who stared at it in confusion. Claire pushed it towards Meg again. "It'll cover the bruises. Pull the collar up around your neck. And you'll want to wear your hair down." Meg's fingers shot up to her own neck, covered in dark, angry teeth marks and bruises that reached down her shoulders and arms, before she silently snatched the jacket out of Claire's hand with a look of shame. Claire jerked her head to the exit and dashed towards it. When she looked back, she noticed Meg was taking her time pulling the jacket over herself. Claire sighed as she ran over the line. Meg was a strong girl. She would figure it out the way she needed to.

Meg stared out into the trial area as she popped the collar of Claire's jacket. Surely that creep had followed her. He must've. She stood still, angling her head this way and that to try to spot him. A frown deepened on her lips after she stood for a few more seconds, the ground burning beneath her feet. If he did follow her, he had hidden himself well enough that she couldn't see him. A dark, swirling mass of confusion and distress sat in her chest as she stood alone in the gate and pulled the elastic out of her hair to let it fall around her neck. How many people back at the fire knew she was involved with him? Ugh, "involved" sounded so much worse than what it was. Whatever it was. Meg inhaled sharply and felt around in her shorts pocket for the strip of vinyl that she grabbed with her elastic off the basement floor. He hadn't even noticed.

"I guess I'll see you next time," she muttered under her breath. Right. Their "deal." That was just another thing she had to be worried about. She wished it worried her.

She turned her heel and ran across the line.

Danny felt the air change around him as he burned into the place that looked like his apartment and reached up to yank his mask off. The cool, stale smell of cigarettes and whiskey was overpowered by the tang of cleaning solution that the Entity had decided would follow him until the day it let him dissolve into nothing. He threw his mask and sheath on the cheap card table table, not bothering to pull the blade out to check for any scratches he'd need to buff out.

He grimaced as an unwelcome, irritating ache sat in his ribs. He didn't like how quickly she ran. Didn't like how she pulled away. Goddamn, she was fucking annoying, and he couldn't quite pinpoint why she got under his skin so…so easily. Surely one of the other women he chased around would be less of a hassle. There was the busty, tattooed bimbo that easily caught his attention when he first saw her. The quiet, geeky girl with glasses and dreadlocks was probably a virgin who could be easily cornered or convinced. Or maybe the cocky bitch with bright hair and long nails who snuck around when he downed one of the others. Hell, he'd probably get more satisfaction fucking the life out of the stupid girl in the pink bunny hoodie.

He tried to picture any of them beneath him. But they all shifted back to her in his mind. His brows furrowed deeply. What the hell made her so special? She wasn't even conventionally attractive, let alone what he would consider his "type." The few curves she had were mediocre at best. Her nose was too long. Her lips were always half-parted as if she was ready to say something cocky at any given moment. She always kept her hair in those stupid braids or up in a ponytail, even though it looked almost nice when it rolled down her back. Her back, with visible muscles knotting around her shoulders. Abs perfect for pooling cum in. Strength that probably should've overtaken his own. With a grumble of frustration, he shook his head.

He sank down into his easy chair and stared blankly at the silent television. It didn't seem to be able to replicate cable programming. He occasionally found or asked around to some of the more sentient folks for a VHS, but after the one time he popped in the tape he found outside of a creepy carnival, he was a little hesitant. He put his chin in his hand and sighed through his nose. "Can I have my pictures now? It's the least you can do."

A sizzling sound and a smell almost like bacon burning into ash surrounded his head as he extended his hand out, the flimsy photographs appearing in a small stack with the contents facing away. It was coy enough to slap some artificial streaks of corporate lettering on the back in gray against white. That always was his favorite way of getting them developed. Meant someone else got to see his work. Make a show of making sure the developer knew that despite the "horrific" and "terrifying" nature of the images, it was all corn syrup and special effects. Just a little hobby of his.

He flipped the stack over and examined the first few shots carefully. They weren't too dark. A little too perfectly lit, actually. He frowned. "Did you mess with these?"

A soft whisper tickled his ear. It wasn't in a language he understood, but he got the feeling it was saying something along the lines of "helped you."

Danny clicked his tongue, grimacing. "Sure. Right. You're very helpful. I feed you, you learn photo development. Even trade." He knew it wouldn't detect the sarcasm dripping from his tone, but it felt good anyway.

A cool breeze tumbled through the apartment, moving the leaflets of paper and photos pinned to the wall. He huffed, satisfied that it wasn't "looking" at him anymore before he continued through the stack. A few more of just her face as she hung helplessly. Now, these, it definitely fucked with, right? She didn't look like that. Her cheeks were too soft, even when her mouth was twisted in a shout of rage. He quickly moved on before reaching the shots of her touching herself. They weren't too bad. Still a little dark, but everything he cared about seeing was still there. Satisfied, he shuffled back to the beginning of the stack and selected one of her that showcased her in profile, frowning while repairing a generator. He had taken it at the beginning of the trial, long before she knew he was there. It was perfect. He picked his journal up from the table in front of him and flipped to the section he had on her, already a significantly larger chunk than the rest of them. On a fresh page, he tucked it in and shut the book. The rest of the photos were tossed carelessly onto the table, a soft slapping breaking the silence in the room. He scratched at his chin and scrunched his eyebrows.

She was going to be a problem.