With the ice-cold barrel of Teddy's gun pressed to his forehead, William's steely blue eyes met with the host's. His programming overwhelmed by the seemingly invincible man, one eyelid visibly twitching, he faltered and lowered his weapon.

"Seems you're not the man you thought you were." The man in black slammed the flat of his hand between the younger host's shoulder blades as he fell to his knees. William didn't need to try - he knew he could win. The host threatening to kill him, Teddy, was just another one of Ford's love stories; only here to pack out the storyline and to attempt to stand in the way of anyone who tried to hurt his precious Dolores. A hero who was doomed to fail.

This wasn't William's first rodeo; he'd been visiting the park for over thirty years. No matter how much he tried to stay away, something always bought him back. This time around it happened to be a big something, but he simply couldn't let those thoughts enter his head - not here. Here he was somebody else; here he was the villain. Weakness was not an option. Instead, he longed to see somebody else's pain - Dolores seemed ironically fitting. A picture-perfect victim, still weeping in a pile on the floor.

"Come on, beautiful."

They were already halfway across the courtyard when he stumbled, feeling the familiar punch to the back from being shot with a host's bullet. Another false bullet immediately pummelled into his lower back. William had become used to the pain that came with being shot by a host. Unfazed, he slowly turned, dragging Dolores with him to face his attacker. She wriggled out of the grip he had around her collar and got onto her knees, her long fingers gripping anxiously at anything she could find.

"No... no, please, don't hurt him. I'll do whatever you say." The words escaping her mouth were nothing but a squeal. Tears rolled down her cheeks, painting porcelain white lines down her dirt-stained face. Her eyes pled with him in a way that he barely thought possible from a host. The kind of despair that only came from that white-hot pain that he himself had felt only a few weeks ago. And yet, she wasn't alive - she didn't exist. She was only programming; very clever, very advanced programming. William suddenly felt more powerful and determined than ever. How much of a monster was he truly? It was time to prove everyone right.

The back of his gloved hand struck Dolores hard around the face for the second time that evening, knocking her back into the dirt. He loomed over her, his shadow engulfing her in blackness.

"I didn't pay all this money because I want it easy. I want you to fight!"

The words felt guttural as they left his thin lips. There was already no doubt in his mind about how complexly evil he had become. The things he had already done... this paled in comparison. She held both hands daintily against her glowing cheek, peering up at him through blonde curls with uncertainty and disbelief in those blue eyes of hers. She truly was magnificent, and she hadn't changed a bit since he met her all those years ago.

"Don't you touch her!" Teddy's wails came from behind them and yet another irrelevant bullet struck William's shoulder blade. Exasperation painted on his hardened features, he casually reached within his jacket and turned to shoot the host in the heart, without any hesitation.

A waterfall of red spewed from Teddy's chest; his eyes were still open, but they were already dull and void of life. He fell to the ground with a thud, the dust around his body rose into the midnight sky, glittering in the moonlight like a thousand stars. But William hadn't waited long enough to notice any of that - his attention was back on the girl. Dolores shrieked; her face contorted with anguish as she watched the man she loved fade away. They always seemed the most human when they were hurting. Something about pain - it was hard to replicate - it seemed so genuine. To William's horror, it always excited him.

His fist tightened back around the younger woman's dress, ripping strands of hair from her skull. Once again, they moved closer to the barn - her legs aimlessly kicking beneath the frills of her dress in a futile attempt to escape. Despite the amount of alcohol in his system and the creak in his now old bones, he was stronger than her. Host or not, her frame was small and she was mostly compliant; he could easily overpower her.

"God damn feels good to be back." He chuckled, glancing down at the host beside him. "Let's celebrate."

Her heels marked their path in the dust, leaving the dead bodies of Teddy, Dolores' mother and father in their wake, as she fought to escape from the older man. The noises she was making rivaled the nearby coyotes; howls that seemed inhumanly loud, but he was safe in the knowledge that no one would interrupt him. As the biggest shareholder of the company, he always insisted on complete privacy while in the park. He hated having to break his immersion. It bought him back to reality and reminded him of exactly what it was he was doing here. The previous few weeks had left him never wanting to face reality again. He had a purpose here now, a welcome distraction.

Reaching the barn, he dragged Dolores back to her feet only to shove her down again onto a pile of hay and lock the door behind them. Strands of hair stuck to her dust-caked face and her dress was stained orange from the desert floor yet, somehow, she still looked perfect. There was no denying that once upon a time, he had fallen in love with her. That was before he really understood what she was. Her blue eyes darted around the room before settling on him, begging him for mercy - that only encouraged him. Even when he loved her, she didn't seem this real. Fear, pain - it bought something out in her. William knew almost every storyline, every little quirk - yet these situations always seemed so unique; bespoke for every individual who dared to explore their inner demons. The welt on her face had begun to turn blue. He did not want her to become hideous to look at (it was much better in the days where the hosts didn't bruise). Spinning his knife between his fingers, a smile curled from beneath his hat.

"Why don't we reacquaint ourselves, Dolores? Start at the beginning..."

He lunged towards her, cutting through both her dress and her under gown. Her hands rushed to cover herself, but William took both firmly in one hand and held them above her head. Her body twisted beneath him, revealing her petite breasts in a frantic bid for freedom, nevertheless, he had her under control. Her slim frame meant he was able to easily slide the remainder of the material over her porcelain skin, leaving her completely exposed.

"Have you ever seen anything so full of splendor?"

He sniggered, admiring the sight of her immaculate body. Her breasts were small but pert, peach-colored nipples which had hardened to nubs in the frigid twilight air. A flat stomach guided him down to her warmth, which was perfectly concealed beneath a modest sprout of pubic hair, as golden as her locks.

His spare hand fumbled with his belt buckle while he studied her, every time seeing her like this was like the first time. It was clear that she had been made with pleasure in mind, she was faultless. He tore off his jacket, tossing it nonchalantly against the wall of the barn while she continued to squirm. Some of her spark had vanished; she was beginning to sink into the loft of the hay, exhausting her efforts. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as her weary body gulped for air, her usually brilliant eyes distorted behind a screen of tears.

He freed his cock, coaxing it to life expertly, all the while hungrily watching for her reaction. Her eyes flicked in its direction for just a second - for William, it was like a jolt of electricity hitting his chest. He chewed lustfully at his lip as the blood rushed between his legs. His erection sprung eagerly to attention, like concrete in his hand and already glistening. It had been some months since he'd allowed himself the gratification of an orgasm. He stroked himself, relishing the feeling of his uncut cock sliding in its sheath, just inches away from her. Feeling the blood pump his appendage with dull thuds, the weight in his balls was suddenly much more apparent.

Dolores stared absently through the gaps in the wooden planks covering the barn entrance, longing for a sign of Teddy. Of anyone. Clearly in shock - her breathing was still a rasp but had slowed substantially. Noticing this, William squeezed the same hand he had been stroking himself with around her chin, the pressure from his fingers sending the skin there white. He yanked her face in his direction, forcing her to reunite with his steely grey eyes.

"Look at you, you're nothing more than a fucking puppet."

Finally loosening the grip on her wrists, he raised his hand to meet her face with more force than ever. She bit down hard on her lip, trying her best to show strength - not to cry out - however, he could read her terror simply by looking into her eyes. That's what he wanted. He craved her fear. Everything that happened was her fault – had she not made him fall in love, then he would not have invested so much time and money into this place. Then perhaps he wouldn't have forgotten about the ones he genuinely loved. It was all too late. She was no longer distant but instead watched him intently as he moved around her naked body - terrified of what he would do next.

Cock now bobbing before him with anticipation, William pressed the flat of his knife against one of her thighs, indicating that she should part them. She obeyed, revealing the pink symmetry of her flower. The most perfect cunt he had ever seen. Something like a renaissance painting come to life in the form of pussy. Oh, how he enjoyed ruining it repeatedly, only to see it returned to its former glory every time he desired to come back for more. As much as he hated Ford, it was times like this that he also credited him as a genius.

His hands still clad with thick leather riding gloves, he traced a line from her clit to her entrance with one finger. Already wet, despite the horrible trauma she'd just experienced - always ready for a guest to use. He shook his head, smirking with disbelief (despite experiencing it countless times). Her fluids coated the leather inside her and flooded down on to the palm of his glove. Her body jerked and contracted as she heaved out dry sobs - he could already tell that being inside her was going to feel heavenly. His cock thudded impatiently at the thought.

"Here darling, try it. You taste like strawberries and cream." He offered his finger to the girl. Her nectar glittered on his leather-clad hand in the dull light illuminating the barn. She shook her head very lightly, ever compliant yet her eyes were wide with apprehension.

"Please..." Her voice was just a quiet squeak. Barely audible over the ambient sounds of the countryside surrounding them.

He wrapped a wad of hair around his fist, tilting her head back with a violent tug and forcing his fingers between her lips. She immediately began to splutter around them, struggling for breath as he rammed them deep within her larynx repeatedly. Her bangs were sodden with tears by now and stuck messily to her forehead. With each wretch around his fingers, his cock thumped, yearning to be smothered with that familiar hot, wetness.

His heart pounded in his chest as he finally removed his fingers from her throat and watched Dolores for a second, his tongue darting over his lips, still tasting her. His gaze was drawn to the silver ropes of wetness still streaming out from her folds and settling on the hay beneath her. William's groin ached, the warmth building in his stomach was overwhelming – he could not wait any longer. Pure primal instinct swept over his body. His hands grasped at both of her knees and, all at once, he buried himself inside her.

She felt unlike any woman he had ever been with. Fucking a host could only be described as how he would imagine sex felt when he was a young child. Ethereal. Her insides pulsated around his length, simulating a woman's orgasmic contractions only with a cunt that seemed tailor-made for his cock. Her body gripped at him with a soft suction; something like an excellent blowjob with the texture, warmth, and tightness of a virgin's cunt. Soft and involuntary moans sailed out of his mouth as he fucked her small body with determined strokes. His head lolled back between his shoulders – losing himself in the sensation.

She began to fight him again (perhaps her programming knew that he enjoyed it). With her fists screwed into tight balls, she pounded with all her strength at his chest. Her legs furiously kicked and curled around him. Unfortunately, William was a veteran at this; he skilfully captured her wrists in his hands, pressing them down by her sides. Using his own weight, he held the host's slighter body impeccably still as he glided in and out of her slit. William watched intently, hypnotized at the sight of her body swallowing him completely. Trapped and with no possibility of squirming away, she could no longer hold back her cries. Exhausted, crushed beneath his writhing body – the sound comes out cracked and muffled.

"No one's coming, Dolores, you belong to me. I can do whatever I like with you."

Before she could call out again, William's hands slithered around her neck and began to squeeze. She immediately started to gasp for breath - those dainty fingers gripping at his gloves, trying to pry them away from her throat. Her face flushed crimson, beads of perspiration began to form on her forehead; all the while he still moved inside her, relishing the red-hot suction of her cunt. Her blue eyes flicked to his – she tried to plead but the hands clamped around her were too tight, all that came out was an imperceptible wheeze. Instead her eyes spoke the words that her mouth could not; wide and filling up with tiny blood vessels, like cerise forks of lightning in a pale sky.

All of this was her fault, this started with her. The anger swarmed out from his core and into his entire body; his hands ever tightening around her throat. Hopeless whimpers bubbled from the back of the host's throat. Her nails tore into his shirt, clawing at the material with so much force that the skin underneath felt raw. Drool oozed uncontrollably over her bottom lip, pooling around William's fingers. He reveled in her panic - her throat bulging underneath his hands, her body quivering with horror.

He felt her violent, uncontrolled throes of death around every inch of him. The vibrations sent him into a frenzy, mad with lust. Waves of pleasure overcame his body as he bucked desperately at her, thirsty to reach his orgasm. He watched attentively as the host's life began to weaken. It wasn't long before her hands finally fell away from where they clutched at his arms, her tongue grew fat in her mouth as her airflow diminished – those once wide eyes started to soften and turn grey. Holding back a snigger, he shook his head - the realism of these things really was astounding.

That's exactly what she was. Just a thing. None of this mattered.

Sweat, tears and drool all mixed to stream over her bare chest, as her body moved in line with his strokes. Her eyes were no longer fastened on him, they too had slumped down to look at her chest. She was still there, but barely. Her breaths were now nothing but fleeting croaks. The skin on her neck had turned a shade of violet, where William's hands held resolutely on, now using his grip to steady himself.

Eventually, she grew silent.

Still gripping her neck, William moved her limp frame back and forth on to his appendage. She had stopped contracting but that no longer mattered. He was too far gone. He could already feel his orgasm building from within his stomach, consuming his entire body. When he removed his hands from her throat, all that was left was a purple ring where they once had been. Her neck was visibly constricted, her eyes still ajar, yet as dull as Teddy's had been. He moved his grip back to her hips and used her small corpse for the last few important strokes. A fuck puppet. Nothing more.

Feeling his balls tighten to his body, he pulled himself free from her to position himself over her face. His fist was just a blur around his rock-hard cock, still slippery with her juices. For a final time, his eyes scanned the young host's broken body before a deep grumbling heave of a moan came straight out from his chest. His orgasm spilled out with a thud, painting her in thick white globs with each throb of his cock. They raced down her face, settling in the corners of her still open eyes, coating her blue lips. He panted, feeling the violent waves of pure decadence roll through his body. It truly had been too long.

The vibrations rattled through his body for a while, his ragged breaths echoed around the barn - until all was silent. His body still trembling, he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve and zipped up his trousers. His jacket was bundled against the barn door, his hat needed knocking back into position. All in all, it didn't take long for William to gain his composure.

Looking back at the host's lifeless body in the pile of hay, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. Memories of his wife's dead body came rushing back into his head with such ferocity that it almost knocked him off balance. He shook his head, squeezing his thumb and forefinger into the corners of his eyes, willing the thoughts away. The next test would be even harder. Flustered, he pocketed the discarded bowie knife on the barn floor and disappeared into the night.

The next morning came around with a new brilliance. The lines of sunlight glittered through the wooden blinds, shooting for his eyelids, and awakening him. The events of the night before seemed like a blur, but the pounding in his cranium told a story that he couldn't forget. Groaning, he staggered from the straw mattress – bones creaking as he did. He poured a coffee, missing the cup altogether and letting the brown sticky liquid splatter out onto the counter, followed by an extra shot of whiskey to help with his head. It was a little bitter and only lukewarm, but the coffee left a sweet taste in his mouth. Already, a distant murmur had filled the air outside, as the hosts of Sweetwater begun their storylines for another day.

The daylight outside was blindingly bright, the Man in Black tugged at his hat to shield his tired eyes. The lines on his face seemed even more apparent with the new day. Hosts bundled together outside each of their businesses, arranging everything perfectly for the first batch of newcomers. The wind swept the orange dirt from around their feet into the air, a tiny cyclone frolicked down the street before William as he made his way down the boulevard.

A flash of blue caught his eye and then there she was again. As if by magic. No more than a hair out of place - innocently packing tin cans from the local store into the saddlebag that was draped over her Daddy's horse. A grin curved along one side of his face as he took determined strides in her direction.

The can she'd inevitably dropped on the floor rolled towards his dust-covered boots. Without hesitation, William leaned down to retrieve it, extending his hand to offer it back. His hands were still gloved, remnants of her from the night before were most assuredly soaked into the leather. Of course, she didn't remember a thing. She smiled sweetly in response, accepting the older man's help.

"Mighty kind of you." She stammered, the southern drawl singing in her voice. The breeze caught a stray strand of her hair, and it danced delicately around her face.

"Sweet…" William started, indicating towards the canned peaches in her hand, "…not as sweet as you."

She continued with that naïve smile, never breaking eye contact. That sting came again, forcing William to look away.

"I'm afraid I've got other plans tonight, Dolores." For only a second, the smile faltered on her face. Her mouth didn't have time to register, William only saw it in the deep blue of her eyes. A frown from deep within her. Not meant for guests to see. He smirked once more, tipping his hat in her direction.

"Have a pleasant evening."