Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my twisted imagination.

A/N: This fic is not meant to offend anyone or cause some outrageous revolt. It is simply another product of three options: too much smutty imagination, too much time on my hands to help it thrive.

Pairing: Oliver Thredson/Lana Winters.

Thank you so much for the reviews! You really have no idea how much it means to know that this story is enjoyed. But now I'll watch you all sadly run away because this chapter does contain NON-CON, NON-CON, and more NON-CON because after all, this is Oliver Thredson. Again, this is not meant to offend anyone, but you have been warned.

American Horror Story: Asylum

A Residual Haunting

Chapter Five

Bolting upright, Lana scrambled out of bed and flattened herself in a corner like a child as if the monster in her closet had emerged to snatch her away in her sleep. In the back of her mind, she realized he must be enjoying finding new ways to terrify her, to convince her that no place was safe, not even her own cell. And it was working because even now at thirty-three years old, one darkened room was all it took and suddenly she felt like she was four again and still afraid of the dark.

"Hellooo! I need help in here!" she called out, the hoarseness of her voice a key indication of her continued exhaustion since Oliver's arrival. "Somebody… Please!"

The sound of another inmate's voice called out from a few cells down, mocking her exact same cries for help over and over again like an eerily slurred mantra. Oliver stepped calmly into the dim moonlight and stood at the foot of her bed, his hands behind his back while listening patiently for the sounds of no one coming down the hall.

"Looks like it's just me and youu…" he said in a soft monotone voice, the last word dragging off his tongue. The tiniest smile tugged at the corners of his bow shaped lips. "Whether it's a true cry for help or the cries of a deranged patient, you would think the night security would have a sense of urgency. But typically that would involve some level of caring."

Pressing herself against the cold brick of the wall behind her back, Lana mentally steeled herself against the possibilities of what horrific ideas were crawling around inside Oliver's mind.

With a trembling lip, she finally spoke up, "What happened to your therapy? You seem awfully eager to go back to shock therapy because don't think for a second that your useless doctor won't find out about this."

After a nonchalant shrug, he responded, "I never expected her to understand. That's the problem with the psychiatrists visiting this facility lately. Too textbook… Frankly she reminds me of Alice in Wonderland. I keep hoping that she'll tumble into the rabbit hole of my mind, but something is stopping her. Perhaps she's afraid of getting lost because well… Not everyone has a mind like mine."

"Then I commend her desires to maintain her sanity." Lana said flatly.

Oliver squinted slightly to try to make out her small form in the darkened corner across from him. Inwardly he was hoping she might come out so he could see the way the moonlight played over her naked skin like he'd always imagined while alone in his cell at night, but never had the chance to see.

"In any case…" he continued, "My inexperienced young doctor is incorrect. That woman I found years ago, she may have given birth to me, but she's not my mother. Not when you and I have such a lasting history that far surpasses the curse she so gratefully departed me with the day she gave me this life."

Seeing his eyes wander over her, Lana suddenly wrapped her arms around herself to cover her naked chest, forgetting that she'd discarded her clothing for bed. Tiptoeing a few inches out of the corner, her eyes searched the floor desperately for her discarded dress and she swallowed hard when one of Oliver's hands emerged from behind his back and held up the small blue garment for her to see. Quickly she pressed back into the corner and Oliver knew she must have realized the exact moment he had emerged from the shadows and stood directly behind her when the door to her cell was closed. He gave her a knowing look as he tossed the dress across the room and he watched her shiver, probably at the thought of how close, so very close to her he must have been. It had taken all of his will not to reach out and run his fingers over the softness of her skin as she stood in front of him, unbeknownst to his presence. But instead he simply settled with quietly snatching the cloth up the moment it fell from her hands and eased back into the shadows of where he came.

"You know, she even diagnosed me with an Oedipus complex." he said a little saddened, his dark eyes lowering to the tattered green blanket atop Lana's bed, his fingers plucking at the thin material idly. "But why should that make my own needs any different from you or anyone else? We're all the same underneath the aggressive, competitive, and selfish people that we are… As part of humanity, it's inherent that we're burdened with the human condition and the desire to feel wanted, secure, and to be... loved. The issue with my mother is only a piece of the broken puzzle."

"Don't you dare try implying that you and I are anything remotely alike. As I've said before, you're not capable of loving anyone and you sure as hell don't deserve it." she blurted back angrily, ending the reminiscent tangent of the doctor he used to be.

Oliver looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly behind his glasses and his face fell at her continued rejection. As always she was listening, but never truly understanding. Bringing his other hand from behind his back, he decided to reveal the most vital ingredient of his plans tonight that would hopefully squelch her defiance. Lana's eyes dropped to see him holding a pair of one of the orderlies white restraining cuffs that he must have snatched when they weren't looking.

The screech of the alarm in her mind finally sounded off and she whipped around to the little wooden dresser resting next to her bed. Frantically she dug in the drawer for something, anything pointed to keep at him away like an animal trainer and her stick to ward off the lurking tiger with hungry eyes. At the sound of his steps rushing to seal the gap between them, she spun on her heel, her hand raised with a crochet needle she'd stolen from one of the nun's to jab him. Catching her wrist before it could make contact, he shoved her backward against the wall and flattened himself to her. Securing both her wrists in one hand, he snatched the object from her hand and made quick work of fastening them up inside the cuffs.

Panicked and desperate, she let out a winded cry and began to flail the same way many of the patients did when they refused to go down for the medication. Oliver was quick and wrapped his arms around her waist and she jumped about, her legs kicking and sending him backward to slam against the wall.

"Tsk tsk tsk..." he chastised under his breath as he quickly slid them both down the wall to the floor.

"Get off…" she said through clenched teeth, the anger and helplessness evident in her shuddering voice. "Get off me, Oliver!"

The terrified sensation she'd felt as a little girl so many years ago returned full force except this time, she couldn't crawl under her covers in hopes that the terror would leave her be. Lana twisted desperately to get free, but Oliver's strength far overpowered her own. His arms wrapped around her chest and his long legs wound around hers in restraint as if the darkness itself had sprouted limbs to at long last swallow her whole. A dark grin spread over his face as her already dwindling strength died away and her now vacant, red eyes spilled with hot tears. Finally with her last jerk, she went limp in the arms of the nightmare that forever stalked the edges of her mind.

"Calm down... You're always so afraid of me." he said softly, the baritone of his voice gently bouncing off the four, suffocating walls of the cell. He rested his cheek against hers, reveling in the smoothness and warmth of her pressed completely against him. "I told you a long time ago that I don't want to hurt you."

She turned her face to the side as a subdued struggle to ignore him. Assured that she wouldn't try to dash for it, he released her as little as necessary and tugged himself out of his sweater, his standard issue inmate shirt pulled over his head right after. The need to feel her skin, living skin against his was undeniable and it was still so soft, even in this hell hole. His palms glided over her exposed breasts, squeezing them gently to memorize the feel of them in his mind.

Burying his nose into her hair, he inhaled deeply of her scent and found himself a little relieved that the bland facility soap had left her own scent unmasked.

"Lana, why do you become so uncomfortable when faced with such deep emotion like this?" he asked quietly and when she still didn't respond as another show of her stubbornness, he commented further, "You're always so goddamned full of fight…."

She didn't say anything and he just watched her wrists twist at the cuffs from over her shoulder. "What would happen if you softened to it and enjoyed being vulnerable instead? Control is just an illusion, you know?" he whispered in her ear as his palm crept down the taught smoothness of her naked belly until he found the band of her white cotton underwear. "Just like your illusion of one day getting out of here, the illusion of being free... But the truth is the memories we share will never allow you to be free."

The tips of his long fingers crept under the band, toying with the delicate skin of her mound between her thighs. The moment she felt the heat of that wandering hand, Lana startled and tried to lurch out of his arms as if she'd been burned. Annoyed, Oliver suddenly gripped her arms and pushed her down to the floor. Crawling over her, he straddled her waist to pin her beneath him.

"Sure things have been rough between us in the past, but you have to let it go." he commented.

Slowly his dark irises wandered over her naked chest, watching it rise and fall with each baited breath in fear of what he may do to her next. His fingers traveled slowly down the small space between her breasts where he could feel her heartbeat thrumming under his fingers. He couldn't resist the delight he felt at the thought that he was the only one to stir this type of reaction out of her. Even though it wasn't one that he preferred, he took comfort in the fact that it was just for him nonetheless. With a small smile, his fingers danced along the curve of her breast, swirling a little pattern of his own over her nipples like a little boy finger painting until they hardened into little pink pebbles before his eyes. Filled with loathing, Lana sat up quickly, but he pushed her back down to the cold floor.

"No matter what you do, I'll always hate you until my last dying breath…" she said bitterly and his index finger sealed her lips.

Leaning down, he smoothed his palm down her cheek and when his thumb trailed along the soft curve of her trembling bottom lip, she glared at him. He shook his head, "Shhh... Let's not ruin this with insults. It's best to save them for tomorrow to keep us busy."

"Don't worry… I don't need to. When they find you in here in the morning, you're going to wish you were dead." she spat and brought her tied wrists to her chest to try to shield her body from his eyes.

"IF they find me." he said with narrowed eyes, his expression threatening and she looked at him confused, her brows crinkling in confusion as to how he planned to get out of here without anyone's notice.

Brushing his short dark hair back with his hand, Oliver pulled off his glasses and slid down her legs. He inhaled her scent as he went, his cheek and jaw never breaking contact with the soft skin of her flat belly. Lana shifted as the beginnings of the dark, bristly stubble along his jaw tickled her. Creeping lower, he nipped at the gentle curve of her hipbones with his teeth until his lips met that white band of her panties again. When he looked up to see her ignoring him, he hooked his fingers into the elastic and pulled them down her slender legs in one swift tug then tossed them over his shoulder.

"Oliver, what do you want from me?" she asked, snapping her thighs shut as she looked down at him with wide, fearful brown eyes. "To play house again like the sick brutality you subjected me to in your basement? Your psychiatrist should've alerted you to the fact that you're getting a little too old for children's games."

And just like that, his mind was wrapped around his most memorable moments they'd shared in that basement that made him feel as though the torture of his life was finally changing for the better. Like the way she said she forgave him because a mother's love truly is unconditional. Or when she called him her baby…. And suddenly his mind went blank.

"Well it's like they say, Lana…." he said in a dull tone. "We crave what we can't have."

And with that he sat up, his eyes glazed and his breath heavy and he grasped both her breasts with his hands. Lana's eyes glued to the ceiling as his lips brushed over a still hardened nipple. The wet heat of Oliver's mouth then wrapped around it, sucking on the sensitive little nub for a moment then pulled back with it between his lips in what felt like a slow, agonizing tug.

She winced while the slippery texture of his tongue dragged over her skin to send an unwelcome rush of heat between her legs. A large hand slid down between her thighs, brushing against her folds as he sucked and her hips bucked involuntarily. Already she could feel the dark smile spreading across his face and the hardened bulge pressing into her thigh.

When he finally pulled away, her eyes were listless and he realized she was trying to block him out like she did the first time they were together. And to Lana there was nothing, only the feeling of his hands somewhere on the peripheral of her daze, but suddenly her eyes went wide when a pair of fingers slid into the hot passage between her folds.

Falling back to her earth, her eyes met with his and he gave her a dark grin. "Going somewhere?"

Her mouth opened to berate him, but only a soft cry tumbled off her tongue as his hand quickly set to work between her legs to stroke that hidden spot deep inside. Her jaw dropped open, her face twisting as though she were in the most terrible of pains while wave after wave of hot, pulsing pleasure coursed quick and unrelenting through her hips. Her thighs snapped around his hand and after several minutes her hips began to rock with the movement of his hand, chasing it despite herself.

After a long moment, his hand pulled back to watch as the shining wetness coating his fingers left a thin trail connecting them to the now aching tunnel they'd just emerged from. Oliver quickly forced his way between her thighs and shoved his white underwear down his slender hips. The urge to be inside her was driving him crazy. Before she realized what was happening, he gripped his hardened length in hand and slid himself inside of her in one deep thrust.

Lana's mouth dropped open, her back arching and her thighs squeezed his waist at his sudden intrusion. A rush of anger, degradation, helplessness, and the lack of control over her own life boiled to the surface and before she even realized what was happening she lunged at him, her hands wrapping around Oliver's throat.

His eyes widened as she tried to cut off his air supply and he hurriedly shoved her off, sending her toppling to her back. He was on her almost immediately, a pair of large hands grasping her neck in return as his expression shifted from tolerant to the temper filled animosity she knew he possessed. But even as they tussled about, it was hard for him to concentrate when all he could remember was her wrapped around his hard length, hugging and soaking him so sweetly. Mentally his mind reeled to get her under control while his erection screamed to once again be engulfed inside of her wet heat.

"St-Stop it! Oliver... Get off-" she strained out and felt his hips snap and the foreign sensation of him shoving himself inside her again, filling and stretching her completely. His hands around her neck held fast as he thrust hard and deep.

Lana winced and in this moment, she just knew that finally the struggle was coming to an end and that he is going to kill her. And this time the angel she'd seen in Oliver's basement wasn't here to kiss her goodbye. She closed her eyes to welcome the sweet release from this life that she knew was inevitable the moment Oliver stepped through those common room doors as another inmate like herself….

But when she felt the hard press of his lips over her own and the slick muscle of his tongue grazing hers did she realize that he was truly was right and that there is no such thing as being free.

Oliver felt his skin come alive and all thought melted into the sensation of wet lips wrapped around his mouth and his length at the same time. Tearing himself away from their lip lock, he released her neck and leaned up, gripping her under the knees and lifting them to keep them where he wanted them. His thick brows scrunched and he bit his lower lip as he thrust into her quickly, the pleasure pooling in his groin. She brought her bound wrists to her chest and he watched her hands ball into little fists as he continued to stoke the already roaring flame he created deep inside her. His movements were strong and sure and despite herself, she cried out as pleasure washed through her belly with each brush against that sensitive spot deep inside.

"No…" Lana whimpered through grit her teeth as her hips rolled upward with his thrusts and he watched captivated when she suddenly squeezed his member impossibly tight. All of a sudden her head tilted back and with a strangled cry, she melted into soft whimpers and gasps as her release plowed through her.

Oliver let out a deep groan, forcing himself to a stop and very slowly pumped into her a few more times then pulled out. Sitting back on his haunches while still ragingly hard, he watched Lana writhe and felt his ego soar at the fact that she'd actually fallen apart so easily. Her legs wound and unwound, her head turned from side to side as she breathlessly came hard and without mercy. For a second he let himself feel a little shallow that he may surpass the talents of her old lover, Wendy. Even though he wasn't very experienced, he had learned much from his time together with Lana. Not to mention it also helped that Wendy wasn't exactly born with the equipment to do what he could do.

Hurriedly he pulled off his white shoes and socks then shrugged out of his blue pants while she settled down.

"Lana..." he huffed as she attempted to pull herself up from the floor onto uncooperative legs and Oliver grabbed her ankles, yanking her beneath him. "Lana, look at me..."

She turned her head away, pushing at his shoulders, "Why do you insist on torturing me?"

"If feeling this incredible is what you consider torture then I'd hate to imagine what you think true torture is…" he commented and pulled her up roughly by her upper arms.

Wrapping her thighs around his waist, he brought her up to sit atop his thighs. Her immediate response was to cover her chest with her bound hands, but he wouldn't have any of it and pulled her arms over his head, locking himself between them and forcing her to look at him. Lowering her down onto his still hardened length, Oliver gripped her bottom tightly as he bounced her over his member with his hips.

The ability to shut off her emotions had finally arrived and Lana forced herself into realizing that there was no other option but to settle into the moment as he'd told her to do. Face to face and arm in arm, Oliver listened closely as she struggled to stifle her sigh and quiet moans as her hips moved over his shaft, squeezing his sensitive skin.

His face dove in, the barest press of his lips to hers once, twice, until he sealed them completely to hers. She was shaking under his touch and her breath quickened, warm puffs against his lips as the heat between her thighs was quickly rekindled with each stroke.

Oliver suddenly released her lips and leaned back to brace himself against his hand, pulling her forward thanks to the cuffs holding her wrists together behind his head. As his hips rolled, a growing smile spread over his face as Lana slowly but surely let her building desire take the reins. Her back arched at the new positioning, allowing him to delve deep and he was quick to slip his free hand between them to stroke that lonely little aching bud that he'd been avoiding until now.

With half lidded eyes he watched as she rose and fell, the jerking of her hips over his own increasing with speed and slowing to the touch of his fingers leading the way. Her eyes were closed and her brown hair bounced atop her shoulders with his movement. For the first time, she was vulnerable to him, almost softened and he couldn't help adoring how beautiful she was when a victim to her own desires.

"Ah-God…" he groaned out, squeezing his eyes shut while he thrust into her harsh and almost punishing. His own climax had been clawing underneath his skin, demanding to be released and he increased his efforts to take her with him. Her mouth dropped open, her teeth bared as the man beneath her angled his thrusts, pulling her to the edge of what seemed like a long torturous peer and the bliss filled waters resting beyond.

The moon outside the window above her bed disappeared behind the clouds, shrouding them in darkness and finally Lana let out a suppressed moan, her thighs locking around his waist as he threw her into the water to chase her release. Oliver's back went rigid, his hips twisting in jerky spasms as he also followed her descent and while slowing his thrusts to draw it out of her, he smiled to himself in the dark as a rush of wetness once again poured over his skin….

The room was filled with the heavy pants of exertion and Lana managed to slide off him and to the floor, silently curling into a ball. She shut her eyes though not for sleep but more in the hopes that the remainder of the night would now go on uneventful. For a long while, there was nothing but darkness and silence and despite her being trapped in the room with her worst fear, sleep arrived thankfully to claim her. But before she could have it, the feel of Oliver's hands pulling her to him again snatched her from sleeps grasp, reminding her that the night was still young.

When morning arrived, the pop of the heavy cell door sounded through the small room. Lana awoke in her bed and she was quick to scramble out of the door rather than shut it again as she had done so often before. After a long moment, a slender black figure strode into the room and green eyes glanced over its seeming emptiness. It was spot check and Sister Eunice walked over to the bed, looking over the mattress and strewn blanket Lana left behind. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she walked to the foot of the bed as a pair of dark brown eyes followed her black shoes and stockings. Turning around on her heel, Mary suddenly kneeled down and let out a soft gasp to see Oliver curled up underneath, his knees to his chest.

"Oliver..." she said like a chastising mother who'd just busted her child doing something wrong. "You know what this means don't you?"

====To be continued….=====