Ryan: Part Five - Hallucinating Hack

A/N: No, I didn't die. Just got busy. But here you go, update for you! Another graphic one, so duct tape the kiddies' eyes closed. Or just throw 'em in the closet again. Whatever works.

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Ryan ran.

He ran for what seemed the longest time; until his legs could take no more and threatened to spill him onto the gloomy, rain-soaked streets.

The thought of what he had done sickened him.

He ambled aimlessly into the heart of the city, stumbling over strewn garbage and veering around passersby, who stared after but quickly forgot the disheveled man; seeing him as just another hopeless, homeless fool.

At the same time, the thought of what he had done intrigued him.

It picked at the edge of his mind, peeling it away and molding it into something completely different.

'That rotten bitch deserved it. Deserved all of it.'

He shook his head, as if to try and clear the thought.

Still, it lingered.

Overhead, the thunderheads swelled, and lightning flickered in the distance. A single star peeked through the thinnest cluster of clouds, seeming to wink at him as though it understood everything.

Ryan stopped, stumbled a little, and then stared up at the sky, even as rain began to pour from the heavens, drenching him and chilling him further. Maybe that nagging voice was right. Maybe Sophie did deserve it. She got what was coming to her. Maybe it was what God wanted. Yes, that explained everything. Would God not be the only one to fill him with such anger? Such hatred? He'd never known such pure, unbridled emotion. His fear was slowly melting away into realization.

An eye for an eye, that must be what God intended for him to enforce.

What Ryan did not remember was Jesus's wise phrase: 'Let he who is without sin cast the first stone'.

Nor would he have cared if he'd known.

Ryan's thoughts came to him in a frenzy. If God wanted him to punish, would others like Sophie deserve the same judgement? Is that what God wanted him to do? As if in answer to his silent question, a bolt of lightning stretched itself across the sky, and a wave of thick, ominous thunder followed. Ryan's grey eyes flickered in the darkness that the dim streetlamps couldn't seem to touch. He would fulfill God's whim, then. He wasn't crazy after all.

Suddenly, a velvety voice from behind touched his ears.

"Care to satisfy a lady's itch?"

He turned, and met with the dull green eyes of a short, redheaded woman. She was pudgy, and only mildly attractive, and the dress she wore seemed to be ready to burst at the seams at any moment. Her overly painted lips pulled into a smile, and she batted her eyelashes in an attempt to lure him in. His head hung low, he took a step closer. His hands balled into fists, then opened again, hooking into claws. The woman tilted her head, growing nervous, and took a couple of steps away. She felt chills dance their way up her spine as she stared into the haggard curtain of dark, dripping hair; and when she saw the way he hunched over as he stepped forward, she prepared to turn and run.

Ryan seemed to sense it, though, and as she turned to flee, he lunged at her, his arms wrapping themselves around her waist and tugging her against his chest. She flailed her legs, kicking him in the shins with her pointed boots, and he snarled in pain and anger, releasing his grip in his surprise. She stumbled, nearly overbalancing as she landed, but righted herself and began to run.

Blindly, she turned the nearest corner and bolted towards what she thought would be an exit. Instead, she ran right into an ivy-covered wall, and finally, lost her balance. She toppled backwards and onto her butt, crying out, and frantically tried to pull herself to her feet. Ryan watched from the mouth of the alley, his face stony and his eyes empty.

"You whore."

Two words.

That was all it took to send her into a fit of terrified screaming, and Ryan, after a moment of deliberation, started to stride toward her. She shrank back and against the wall, trying to make herself as small as she could; as if she thought she might make herself tiny enough to be unseen. Her attempt, however, failed.

The fear in her eyes was visible even in the dim light, and it was just enough to quicken Ryan's strides into a jog. As he neared, he swung out with one bony fist and brought it around and into the left side of her face. In the brief moment that his hand touched her face, he felt her jaw snap and shatter, blood spraying from her lips and coating his face and arm with a thin mist of red. He licked his lips and watched her topple to the ground, dazed.

"Can't scream now, can you? Filthy little bitch; God has no use for women like you."

He lashed out with one foot and felt it hit home when it sunk into the meaty flesh of her chest and connected with her ribcage. She managed a wet, gurgling cry of agony, and began to weakly paw at the air as if to deflect his blows.

Ryan couldn't help but laugh at the poor, piggy woman that lay before him. She was pathetic! A worthless waste of God's precious time. Her place was not here on Earth. She belonged in Hell with Sophie. All women belonged in Hell, he thought; but especially the kind that worked and lived as Sophie did: as filthy, street trash whores.

He knelt and rolled her onto her back, pinning her arms above her head and grinning down into her face. There was no humor, only a sick sort of pleasure that he seemed to derive from watching her writhe beneath him. She offered a very weak struggle, and stared up at him, terrified, searching his face for any form of pity.

There was none.

"Perhaps Lucifer will have you," he breathed hotly into her face, and she tried to scream again, but her broken jaw flared up in a blanket of agony, and she could only moan, coughing a little as her own blood trickled down her throat. With one swift jerk, he tore her dress in two, tearing the skirt away from her chubby legs and using his knee to spread them. Horror returned in her eyes as she realized what he meant to do, but try as she might, she couldn't push him away. His will to continue seemed iron. She knew, at that moment, that she was going to die.

Ryan sneered at her when his eyes met with her bare nethers.

"You wretched harlot," he all but frothed, "naked as the day you were born!"

The redhead began to weep, her breath hitching in her chest, forming heaving sobs that Ryan didn't seem to notice. He reached down, not bothering to hold her down any longer, and slid his pants down to his knees. She slowly shook her head, eyes pleading, but Ryan only grinned again, thrusting into her savagely. Somehow, she found the strength to scream again, and Ryan wrapped his hands around her throat and clenched them tightly, feeling her windpipe close beneath his steel grip. In a sudden burst of energy, she began to claw wildly at his hands, having trouble finding a grip as he began to thrust into and out of her, taking his pleasure roughly. Her eyes bulged from their sockets and her rouged cheeks began to take on a blue tint as Ryan strangled her.

His anger rose again, and instead of a fat, redheaded face; he was staring down into the mocking, laughing eyes of Sophie. He yowled and squeezed upon her throat harder, intensifying his thrusts until she began to bleed. Still, Sophie seemed to be laughing at him. He closed his eyes and dug his fingers into her throat, listening to her gasping and feeling her convulsing beneath him. He opened his eyes to watch her struggle; watch her die all over again, but found himself staring into the fading green eyes of the redheaded whore once more. Enraged further by the fact that he hadn't finally destroyed Sophie, he spat down on the darkened face of the woman, and moved his hips as fast as he could manage, feeling his stomach grow tense as his release neared. Angered or not, he still managed to draw pleasure from the way the whore's eyes darkened as her face had; and from the way she went limp beneath him. As her hands fell away from his wrists, he cried out, releasing himself deep within her and arching his back.

He breathed heavily, releasing his grip upon her crushed throat to prop himself up with his hands, feeling a twinge of satisfaction spark within his chest. She had paid for her sins; and in the process, Sophie had grown closer to being fully destroyed. The ghastly smile returned, and as Ryan pushed himself to his feet, adjusted his clothes, and gave the woman one last good kick, he came to an eerily startling realization.

He enjoyed what he had done.

And he wanted to do it again.

After all, it was God's will.

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Ruh-roh, Raggy! He's losing it.

Review, please.