One thing I've recently realized about being a prisoner, hostage or kidnap victim, it's actually quite boring.
There are long stretches of time with absolutely nothing to do. You literally just sit there all day, every day. Sometimes something happens, a lot of times nothing happens. You're left alone with your own thoughts. And those thoughts are understandably depressing.
I've been going over everything I can remember about situations about this. I think about other kidnapping situations, what did they do what did they not do? You're supposed to keep your mind occupied, don't get depressed, don't do anything stupid. You're supposed to "humanize" yourself to your captors. Uncontrollably, I laugh to myself.
I have been trying to keep busy. Mostly I clean and organize my stuff. I'm separating my useful possessions from my useless ones. I realize I'm going to have to pack more lightly. The weight of captivity is heavy enough on me.
Sometimes when I don't have the will or the energy to get up I lay on my crude bed. Slowly I pull my shirt up and watch my stomach. I think I can watch it getting bigger. The whole prospect of what lays in my stomach is absolutely terrifying. Food, warmth, escape, those are problems I can sit down and think rationally about. They are problems I can confront and solve. With this there is no rational thought, just blind terror. When I try to think about all I do is I panic. No nice rational solutions. So I pull my shirt down and ignore it. But still it weighs heavier on my mind every day.
I don't know what to do.
But you do, you need to escape. I get up from my bed and wander over to the window. There's a good deal of sunlight for a winter's day. The nearby trees look peaceful, the view is almost pretty, if it wasn't marred by the big dark, hulking truck. Yes, I need to get out of here, get help for- I put my hand over my stomach. That's exactly what I need to do.
Idleness born of fear and uncertainty stops me. It almost becomes procrastination: I'll escape tomorrow. Or the next day. I don't know exactly how'll I'll do it, and it's a very, very risky thing to do.
There is another way. But after much soul-searching I realize I simply can't do it. I can't commit suicide, I don't want to, not while there's still hope. The urge is always there but I doubt it will ever be acted upon.
Still I have to do something other than eat, get bigger and watch the sun move across the sky every day. I can't let despair turn into apathy.
Later
Still bored. I just finished my lunch; I'm sitting aimlessly in front of the slowly heating stove. I think about getting my notebook out again, but I don't feel like looking for it. I left all of my books at my father's house, since I felt I wouldn't need them. I sigh.
I actually think of going to the Creeper and asking for something to read, but that's only suggested half-heartedly. Besides I don't feel like getting up. There are tiny little sharp pains all inside my stomach.
However, I do know something that will cheer me up.
I dig around my groceries and pull out a chocolate bar with a smile. God how I've been craving chocolate throughout my captivity. Chocolate- sweet, milky, smooth, delicious-is the peak of civilization as far as I'm concerned. I'm going to have to buy more.
I hear a bootstep behind me.
Instantly I turn my head. Of course it's him standing there, dark, nasty menacing. I scoot back on my butt as far away as possible. I become aware of heat behind me. The stove, I have to remember not to lean against it.
It's hard, if I could choose between first-degree burns and him I'd choose the burns. Still there's no point, he comes closer to me anyway, peering at me intently. There's a standard "what-are-you-up-to?" expression on his face as he bends down to examine me. He ignores my angry commands to go away. To my consternation he settles down on his haunches, gazing at my face earnestly.
I can do nothing but huddle against the corner and watch him with wide wary eyes. He sniffs the air around me. Occasionally he reaches out to try and touch my face while I try to pull my head from his hand.Just go away I think. These encounters always make me terribly afraid, will he or will he not? All I can do is sit here with my back against the wall, tensed as hell.
He makes a small gesture with his hands and bends down to lift my shirt. I relax a fraction. He checks me constantly, to see if I-or I guess we-are healthy. Since he's shown no major concern so far I suppose everything is okay. That's why I tolerate these little checkups. Congratulations I'm healthy.
Still he won't fucking leave. He lingers around me, sniffing. What the hell does he want?
He rocks back slightly watching me with his head tilted somewhat to the side. His mouth twists slightly, as if he's deciding on something. The air begins to get uncomfortably hot. I look down and realize my chocolate is starting to melt. Shit.
I try to eat it again. I pause when I can see genuine amusement and interest on his face. He presses his face closer to mine. I draw back in irritation, another surreal moment.
He's not leaving, and I'm starting to get very worried again. Still smiling he reaches out to tug on my hair. Totally weirded out I duck away underneath his outstretched arm and quickly, but awkwardly get away from his grasp. Surprised he turns around quickly.
I'm near my bed now, I keep my eyes on him but I wonder if I can run out the door just a few feet behind me and escape. Slowly, with eyes shining, he edged toward me. An excited little grin was on his face. It looked like he was having fun; he looked like he was going to pounce on me.
I knew I couldn't get away.
In less time it took to blink he did pounce. He jumped right in front of me and grabbed my hair. I almost cried out, but then realized it didn't hurt. He rubbed my hair between his fingers slowly, and then pushed my face against his. I grimaced and tried to pull away. He rubbed his nose against mine. Finally he let me pull away, but I knew he was getting ready to push himself on me. He was making small eager noises of anticipation. Abruptly he shoved me onto the bed. He hovered over me and pawed at me. I felt like a mouse being played with by a cat.
I was frozen. I could fight, or I couldn't. The results would be the same. It was that simple. I felt something in me wither and die. Using a sharp finger nail he popped off the top button of my shirt.
I take another bite of chocolate.
Maybe I was hysterical or something but even at the time it seemed like a weird thing to do. The Creeper thought so also because he stopped and gave me a strange look. The kind of look you give to people when you seem them do something totally unpredictable and inappropriate. He stopped for a moment, curious, and took a whiff. His face wrinkled in disgust.
I knew suddenly.
It sounds stupid, but impulsively I took another bite. Then I began to moan.
Now it was his turn to freeze. He watched me with wide eyes with the intensity of a predator. He didn't look pleased or displeased, or even that anxious. I was doing something he didn't understand, he was simply watching and waiting.
I pretended to be sexually aroused. I know it sounds like fighting fire with gasoline, but I also pretended the chocolate was causing it. I took a small bite and moaned and let my hand run over my body and writhed on my straw bed. He began sniffing rapidly again. He tried to climb on me. Looking confused, he ran his hand over me. Ignoring my real feelings of disgust I moaned again.
After swallowing down another small piece of chocolate and gasping I pressed it to him. He looked at me with uncertainty and at the chocolate with disgust. I kept insisting and would smell it with breathless joy and act like it was filled with Ecstasy pills, and then shove it back to him.
In retrospect it's astonishing. It just seemed like some stupid stunt I pulled because I literally no other options. He looked confused as ever, but reluctantly convinced. He took a bite like the stuff was made out of nuclear waste. I saw nasty yellow sharp teeth sink into the soft brown chocolate. He looked like he just gulped down a lemon, and then had the look of a person who realizes they have a cockroach in their mouth. He turned his head and spat out the brown lump of chocolate, then began a horrible series of retchings and gaggings. I sat there stunned, wondering for a moment if he would actually vomit. Then I realized…
Quickly and quietly I'm gone. Get up walk out the door run outside. I don't stop until I reach the trees.
I look back at the school building, panting. It all looks so normal and peaceful, except for the truck. I don't see him anywhere. For a moment I can convince myself everything is okay. It's just a normal school, and I'm just a girl hiding in he woods…
Suddenly after a short time I see him; he's walking out of the building shaking his head slightly. He pauses to look at my direction, quietly as possible I slip through the trees farther into the woods. Occasionally I pause, listening for his tell-tale footsteps.
He doesn't seem to be coming after me, and as tempting as it is I don't try to run. He'll definitely come after me then if he senses that I'm trying to escape, so instead I make my way to the pond.
It's such a lovely spot, especially in contrast to living in that drab schoolhouse. I wonder if the kids would come here after a boring school day and take a swim. I certainly would. It's tempting, but it's too cold right now. Clouds are starting to gather again.
I know I have to go back inside but God I don't want to. If I do it's like walking right back into what I escaped, but I know if I stay here to long he'll just come after me.
I touch the dry winter grass. I don't want him to ruin this spot. I wander up creek a little, pretending to explore, like I'm a little kid again. I see hardly any wild life, no flowers. Depressed I head back, it's hard to explore when my stomach is in the way.
I sigh wretchedly again. Why does he have keep doing this? Doesn't he already have what he wants from me? Despite my despair I have hopeful realization, maybe I can convince him to leave me alone…
I go back to the schoolhouse, but slowly, killing time. It's starting to get dark, and cold.
When I get back to the school house I move silently and miserably into it, keeping an eye on him. His back is turned to me while he works further on his truck. I feel like a dog cringing like this but I can't help it. My theory of persuading him to leave me alone doesn't seem like it would stand up to much scrutiny. When I get to my room I make sure to move a desk in front of the door. It's not much, but it makes me feel better.
With absolute quiet and with the least amount of movement possible I sneak a peek at him from my window. I certainly don't want to attract his attention.
He's still not paying attention to me, that's good; still I wish I had some curtains to cover myself. He's still working on that ugly, stupid truck.
Mid December?
I had a dream, but to my disappointment, it wasn't about Darry.
It was very odd, it reminded me of dreams I had before. After a few minutes contemplating I suddenly remember. The details of the dream began to flood back as I finished off the last of my berries for breakfast.
I remember when I was little, long before I learned to drive, that I would have nightmares about driving. Mostly they were nightmares about an out of control car, or more like car that I had control over but no knowledge of how to drive safely. I guess they were just anxiety dreams over a machine that seemed so powerful, so grown up and so terrifying to a small child. Once I learned how to drive and saw how easy it was all those dreams seemed to vanish.
The details are clearer, an out of control car, me in the driver's seat near panic. I remember that. With sudden realization I remember the car, it was the BEATNGU truck.
I resist the urge to giggle; I actually put my hand over my mouth. What a silly sounding dream. However the more I think about it the more serious I become. I remember the blindingly hot country roads, the fear that I seemed to be able to smell, someone beckoning me in the car. It's not Him, it's not Darry, I'm driving away, my heart is wild with fear.
It's puzzling, I actually stop to think, but nothing comes to me. I know it's important. Is someone trying to tell me something? I've learned long ago never to distrust my dreams, but it didn't seem like a dream Darry would give me, but there was something weird about it. Something my mind wants to grasp but just quite can't.
My thoughts are severely cut short by the arrival of the Creeper. He's standing very nonchalantly just outside my window. Despite my extra weight I'm up in a second. I can feel the fight or flight urge. I back away farthest I can from the window and press up against the door. I can feel the desk I had put there and forgotten about dig into my side. It's only the fact that my eyes are riveted uncontrollably to him keeps me from trying to move the desk.
Still he seems oblivious to the hysteria he created within me. Grinning happily he makes a cheerful "Come Here" gesture with his hand. My mind flashed back to that rainy night.
Now on the verge of tears I press myself even more frantically against the door. I manage to give a trembling shake of my head, no no go away.
Something that resembles a frown passes over his face and he repeats the gesture sharply, I shake my head frantically again. I bite my tongue to resist screaming, because I know that if I start I won't be able to stop. Yet in my head I'm shrieking: "NO NO GO AWAY LEAVE ME ALONE, LEAVE ME ALONE!" When he turns and walks out of view I very nearly fall to the floor, my knees can't support my weight.
After only one brief second of relief the fear came roaring back. "He's gonna come from the door" my mind bawled at me. Gasping shallowly (my lungs don't seem to be able to take in as much air as they used to) I manage to scrabble up and make it to the far side of the room. Not next to the window, next to the stove. I feel like crawling behind it.
Sure enough a few seconds later I see the brass door handle twist, the door opens, is stopped by the desk, then shoved. The monster poked his ugly head into the brief space, blinked at me then focused on the desk curiously. A clawed hand shoved the desk away, like I knew it would. I start sinking to the floor again. This is it.
He steps into t he room, sniffing the air with interest, then focusing on me once again. He comes closer and holds out his hand, "Come." He orders me. I don't accept the hand. "Why?" I ask cautiously.
"Come with me," he simply orders again, and I know I have no choice. Ignoring the hand I push myself shakily up. He immediately ushers me out of the room.
"Wait! Wait!" I cry, I'm still in my sleeping clothes, but there's no way in hell I'm changing in front of him. And he seems so impatient. I manage to pull my coat on and stuff my feet into my old tennis shoes-no time for socks-before I'm rushed outside.
"Wh-where, are we" I cough and gasp, "Where are we going?" I demand. He hops eagerly into his truck and starts it. He turns to me to grin. "Going to get humanthings," he informs me, and then beckons me in. A wave of Deja-Vu from the dream enters my mind. I quickly shake my head and haul myself in.
Later
We've been driving for a while; we're long passed the supermarket, on a dusty road that has grown little more to a trail in the dirt. I sneak glances at him under my hair. He seems impatient today. Fidgety.
I can start to feel resentment. Who the hell does he think he is? I hate how he treats me, like I'm some unruly pet or child that has to be pushed and pulled around on his whim. I hate it almost as much as the fear he induces in me. Like the hysteria I was in this morning. If he comes up to me too quickly, too unexpectedly, I just can't cope.
Oh the fear, how it just eats away at you. And the anxiety, less powerful, but constant, endless. It wears away at you like the ocean on a rock and no matter how you try to cover it, no matter how many times you work up bravery and bravado and try to fill up that little pit in your stomach it's always there, eating away at you like a worm. Even now I'm afraid, I look out the window into the bright, flat nothingness I'm afraid. My heart beats irregularly at night, my hands shake uncontrollably. I'm scared almost constantly.
I know something horrible is going to happen, I say looking out at the wasteland. I know it, I'm going to die, or worse. He'll do something awful, I know, I know. I repress myself. The only reason I can sleep at night is because it's so exhausting just to get through one day under control.
My dark musings were suddenly interrupted by the sudden turning of the truck. I narrowly avoid another bump on the head from the window as I move lightly aside. He's traveling down an even more decrepit road, pulling into a town.
I watch in fascination as he pulls and parks right into the town center. Next to an ancient cracked fountain. Surely this was too conspicuous, even for him? I look at him expectantly but he merely gets out of the truck. I follow after him. When I look out I understand. This town is abandoned.
He looks out then meets my gaze. He gives a small gesture, and I understand that I've been given permission to wander.
A part of me wants to stay right here just to spit on the "magnanimous" treatment he's given me. However I'm far too curious, and spent far too much time cooped up in the school. And after all, I tell myself, I might something immensely useful from the "human things". The Creeper takes off in another direction.
It was a more than a little eerie, it was cold and windy. The wind whistled throughout the houses. It looked like the end of the world.
However despite the apocalyptic feel there wasn't just tons of stuff lying around. As I looked around I realized I had to shed some of my past assumptions about a ghost town. It's wasn't Pompeii or any sudden unexpected disaster. It's not like there was plates of food still sitting on the tables. Or even tables. Every thing was cleaned out, a ghost town that had slowly decayed, its people died or abandoned it one by one. Even now I could see where copper wiring had been cannibalized or telephone poles hacked down.
Why did he bring me here? I though. There seemed to be hardly anything worth stealing, but I guess you never knew. I poked into the abandoned houses; hardly any were locked, and looked around.
There were some old newspapers blowing around in the wind like poor man made substitutes for tumbleweeds. I thought I could at least get a date on this place, but when I picked them up they all crumbled into yellow dust, the ink long since bleached off by the sun. Here and there some knickknack or other lay spookily out of place, like a broken chair or a wind chime with one chime. But it all in all there was hardly anything.
What I did see were old, but much more recent signs of human activity. Broken beer bottles, scorched remains of fires, a graffiti tag. Maybe a hangout for bums and other homeless people. Maybe a place the local kids broke into for a dare. No one was around now though; this place probably had a bad, haunted reputation.
I wonder why, I thought sarcastically as I rolled my eyes to the monster, who had come back with an arm full of junk. Not wanting to get close to him I veered off into another house, it's door hanging forlornly off its hinge. My eyes stung with the sudden change in brightness. I blinked and waited for the greenish haze in my eyes to go away as I ventured in deeper.
Another broken down empty wreck...how surprising. Why did he bring me here? There really seemed to be no purpose, at least any I could figure. I hear a loud noise somewhere outside; uneasy I glance hastily behind me and continue onward.
The floor is nothing but a thick layer of dust that shows my trail of footprints behind me. The dust stirs swirls around slowly and sparkles in the light coming through a miraculously intact window. For just a minute everything feels like it will be okay.
The moment abruptly ends as I hear another loud bang. Suddenly my thoughts resume frantically again. Escape, escape, but I can't escape, he'll catch me.
Maybe I can, at least I can try. I open the window, it squeaks and jams so I force it, and barely manage to squeeze through. I fall and stumble out into the overgrown wilderness the backyard has become. Now what? I stop and pant. I don't here any more loud banging. Quietly as possible I try to set off. The trees and the plants all seem trying to stop me. My once nice pajamas get caught on brambles and thorns and branches, pulling me back. I struggle fiercely, ripping my clothes. If I can just get out of this place, away, find someone, anyone. I know it's stupid and desperate but if I do nothing I have no chance.
When I finally finished hauling up the old engine I found I sighed slightly in relief as I closed the doors to his truck. Although I would have to eat a new foot to replace the one I accidentally crushed by dropping the engine, it's not like I've never faced crippling injuries before. After deciding I had enough machine parts I started looking around for The Breeder.
I considered calling out to her, but decided against it, she wasn't obedient enough to come when called anyway. With another sigh I set off looking for, limping slightly.
Of course she wasn't terribly hard to track. Her delicious heady scent was eagerly picked up by my nose and I followed it through the ruins. The pain in my foot was whetting my appetite. I began to grow excited.
Careful, don't lose control, was the effect of the what I told myself. Hunt yes, kill no. Eat… maybe.
I followed the scent into an old human dwelling. When I happened to glance down I saw tiny fresh footprints in the floor dust and followed them to an open window. This led immediately of course to a newly made trail or stomped weeds and broken twigs.
I couldn't help but smile, she was so adorable.
Maybe I can do it, maybe I can, it was nearly hopeless but I had to try at least. If I didn't even try I had no hope.
It's like something out of a nightmare; somehow I knew I was being chased and hunted. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck on their own accord, I look behind me, nothing.
I press onward.
It was so exciting. I was sure my eyes were dilated, my nostrils flared, all my senses at their peak. Before I can stop myself I'm reaching inside my coat and I can feel the cold reassuring steel.
No.
I quickly berate myself. No killing, I'm slightly angry at her. Her foolish fear and rebellion has caused this hunger, but the crushed foot isn't helping either. I want her. Humans are food, and breeders are delicious, but too precious to eat. Still it is dangerous for them, they smell so good.
For a moment I fantasize about eating her feet. One small little morsel is all they'd be. I look at her prints and notice she walks slightly pigeon toed.
My slight lapse of attention causes a slip. She turns around, but I'm not there.
When will she learn to look up?
I know I can channel my hunger into something else. Oh yes I'm very hungry, I know just what I want. She stops in front of another ruin, slightly tired, she's looking out hopefully, looking out for some escape.
Why am I so easily fatigued? I have to lean against this stupid building to get my breath back. I thought I was already out of Middleofnowheresville. There's this one more building then nothing. Slightly exhilarated, and terrified, I have that gut feeling of being watched, I know he's there, on no possible proof. Still I know I have to keep running. I haven't seen him. Soon I'll come to a road, a town, any sign of civilization. I can escape, I can escape, even with this big belly I can make it.
Standing there, casually, is him.
It's so completely pointless, but so shocking and sudden, all my hopes were instantly ruthlessly crushed I run-ridiculously-around the house, and as if he materialized instantly he's there. He's against an old busted car, leaning with a sort of cool nonchalance
I don't move. Then slowly back up with tears gathering.
He holds me while grinning a happy non-malicious smile, as if he were genuinely glad to see me. I feel like I'm wilting, I want to sink into the Earth and I'm so worthless and pathetic and I'm whimpering and crying uncontrollably. I can't breathe, I think I might faint.
He doesn't let me faint or even fall. He holds me patiently, when I drop my head he grabs my chin and forces it up and makes me look at him.
"Nooo" I moan is my pathetic little voice. Now I'm crying, not fighting or struggling. Just crying.
"Sh-hhh-hh" he hushes me with that odd voice of his and I try to suppress my whimpers He licks my face and I grimace and try to back away while he continues licking me. I back away, and he holds on, until I find my back literally against the wall.
The whites of his eyes stand out against the darkness of his skin when his eyes grow wide and excited. Like they are now. They are disturbingly familiar-Darry's eyes, and it's disturbing to look into them while he's so aroused. He's licking me rapidly and it's making him very voracious. I know enough to realize that pleading is pointless but still one last useless "no" slips out of my throat before I suppress my tears.
My face, then he starts working on the curve of my neck, down into the valley of my breasts. He kneels down in front of me, it's almost a submissive pose. He puts his hands on my belly and with a swift violent motion he none-to-gently exposes it.
At the sight I unexpectedly burst into tars. Even the monster looked up in surprise. I looked down miserably at the thing I had been desperately trying to conceal for months now. that part of my skin hasn't seen sunlight in a few months. It's big and round and pale, with stretch marks just beginning to form. It looks like I swallowed the moon.
He gives a small happy sound, as if the sight of my pregnancy somehow excites him further. He begins to bury his nose into my belly, sniffing and licking passionately. I lose my will to stand the moment he roughly pulls my pants down. The old house becomes my support as he lowers himself further. I can't see him-my stomach is too big-but I can feel him. And I see in my minds eye I can see his face nuzzling the mound between my legs, savoring the smell and feeling the coarse hairs.
I tried to close my legs but he pried them instantly apart. So I half-squatted half-leaned there, my knees askew, trying to focus my eyes somewhere, anywhere else. My gaze drifted back to the town.
My former slimmer hope felt very foolish now. The town was in plain clear sight. It felt like I had walked a lot but it was barely a hike. No problem for the monster to catch up with me, he never even broke a sweat.
To make things worse it feels so achingly public and humiliating, even though no one is here. I can see the town square through the trees, the fountain is even visible.
I blinked and refocused my eyes on the Creeper, now lapping noisily. My mouth twisted in disgust, when I tried to push his head away he growled in protest, and I intuitively stopped. It reminded me of taking a dog's bowl away. I shivered in her fear.
However the shivering continued. He slyly reached one of his hands up and behind me and put it on the small of my back, groping my ass along the way. He pushed me even further into his face, and instead of merely licking up and down his tongue began to explore inside, pushing in and out repeatedly.
I barely suppress another command of stop. I'm leading forward slightly, I can see the top of his head over my stomach, and a red hot rage comes over me as my hand suddenly aches to hold a knife or club. I want to bash that ugly spiny skull in.
The anger doesn't leave, and like a physical law, the energy converted into something else. Now I can't help but moan a warning, "Noooo please stop," I beg uselessly, but of course he does not, and I know my involuntary outburst has only helped him. His tongue caresses lovingly against the bundle of nerves I had forgotten. A small joyful "eep!" emerged from between my legs. The Creeper shrieked at the discovery, like he found something valuable he lost.
Groaning in equal measures anger and lust, I began to rock back on his face. A second hand soon joined the first pulling me away from the wall completely. And so I was forced into some unnatural position, trying to regain some degree of dignity and suppressed my voice, while the Creeper licked and sucked and made other obscene little noises of anticipation.
I cried out when I finally came, giving up. The creature groaned in ecstasy as it received it's manna. Now I felt embarrassed and slightly disgusted I see his tongue circle around his mouth slowly, savoring.
I felt weak, I pulled away from that mouth and the ground rushed up to meet me.
Before I could even panic however two strong hands caught me, slowed my descent. I found myself eased gently to the ground. It was such a pretty day, the sky I looked up into was perfect and clear.
An ugly head popped into my view ruining it. I hit his nose, hard.
Stung he jerked back and glared at me. I glared back. "Why did you do that?!" I snarled at him. The warm wetness in my legs was still there. I tried to ignore that.
He shrugged as though the answer was obvious. "Hungry," he said briefly, already dipping between my legs again.
When he was finally finished lapping up his treat I tried to stagger up, the extra weight making it difficult. With a light push on my chest I was on the ground again, panting.
"More." He ordered sharply, and he was on me before I could even protest.
It never ceased to be delicious. Light and sweet and strangely feeling. My mouth screams for more and more, but my body nagged me for its fair share. Ignoring whatever she was screaming at me I push myself into the slick entrance. Savoring the smell, knowing I could force more out soon. Making sure my shaft was positioned exactly above the soft spot, and occasionally using my fingers to stimulate her further I began thrusting vigorously, trying to tease out another gush of pleasure.
I look directly into her charming, angry face. It's dangerous for my mouth to be so close in the throws of mating but I have to smell her. I get my claws and teeth and even my wings tangled in that long thick hair.
Her stomach is no longer flat, so that is a challenge, when we move I can almost feel it between us. As if he were a little slip of cloth caught in our passion. When I'm this close I can hear her moan for me.
Much Later
It seemed like a long time, the shadows were deeper. I stumbled back with his arm looped casually around my shoulder. It was relaxed but I knew it would curl and tighten like a python the second he sensed I would stray.
Oddly enough I don't cry, I wonder if I've toughened up, but I doubt that. I can feel all my emotions, I'm just too tired to express them. The escape route seems even more pathetically short on the way back, even with the fresh soreness between my legs. Soon enough the Creeper herds me cheerfully to his car.
I don't really pay attention to where we drive until he taps my shoulder. I shift my body away from him and try to ignore it but the tapping becomes insistent. I look up to see a heap of a factory. I gasp a little in surprise.
The place looked utterly destroyed and for a moment I wonder if he did. But then I see the place is just old. It probably collapsed on it's own after a long time.
"Human things." He tells me, then looks at me questioningly. I shake my head. I have no desire to dig through the ruins. Saying nothing he swings the car around them back to the road towards the school house.
I think I understand this place now. It was probably a one horse company town-until the company moved or the factory closed. It explained the school, their kids probably walked on this road to get there, and remnants like the supermarket still sputtered on into the present day.
After a while I just stop caring about the stupid town.
Night
I've lit the stove, prepared my bath water and now I'm curled up in one of those confining little chair desks I've found.
Sitting in one brings back a wave of nostalgia. Memories of school flood back to me, compared to now school was safe and secure and fun. I remember only the nice teachers and kids, and the friends and games. The safe and warm happy childhood. Now my bloated body barely fits into the little desk.
I finally break down sobbing, trying to ignore the sounds of the screams coming from the ugly BEATNGU.
Outside
I'm feeling tired. And after finding a different replacement for my foot all my immediate need are satisfied. So I decide to sleep.
After unloading the truck I take the body of the foot donor down to the basement. After a while my heart rate slows, my body relaxes. I become less alert. I view the corpse through half closed eyes and soon the mindless task of flaying and preparing a corpse relaxes my mind enough so I don't have to waste energy, although I do keep apart of my mind upon The Breeder upstairs.
Dream
After a brief but heavy bout of sobbing I fall asleep still on my desk. I'm not surprised that I dream about escaping. I can't run very fast anymore, hell I've never been able to run very fast. But even if I was the fastest runner in the world it won't matter, I wouldn't be able to escape him.
In my dream there's a boy, it's not Darry this boy is younger. For some reason he seems vaguely familiar. Maybe he was a childhood friend or a boy I babysitted-something. I can't quite place it.
The sun reflects easily off his hair, making him easy to spot even in the cornfield. I run quickly after him, despite my big heaviness. The tow headed boy beckons me eagerly onward.
He leads me to a break in the field and gestures happily to a dark ugly object.
B-E-A-T-N-G-UI mouth out.
Suddenly I'm afraid, too afraid to go near the truck. Too much has happened I don't want to go near it. However the boy has already opened the door and hopped in, happy and oblivious.
NO! I scream. I have to save this little boy from innocently wandering to this truck and being killed. He beckons me eagerly forward. I'm afraid, but I can't let this happen.
Get away! I scream but he merely grins and beckons me in further. I try to grab his arms but he scoots over and pats the driver's seat, indicating I should sit there.
I want to slap his smiling face. Doesn't he realize how stupid he's being?! He could come back any minute! But to my shock, he turns to me with a calm authoritative assurance and says "Maria, The Creeper won't come back, start the truck."
I get a strange feeling I sometimes get with Darry, but I obediently start the engine.
Suddenly I'm small again. I can barely reach the peddles, or see over the dash. The engine screams and the car disobeys me, like it knows I'm not its master, it's terrifying careening down the road like this. I scream hysterically, trying to gain control, thinking I'm going to die.
It's the boy who saves me, serenely tells me everything I need to do, as if he was the adult and I was the child. Slowly I regain control and we tear up the asphalt, easily going over 100 MPH. When I ask him how he knew all this I only get a cryptic country kids learn to drive young from him.
The rest of the dream is happy. We drive off forever and I know I'm free.
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A/N: THANKYOU for all your continued support throughout my lack of inspiration/sheer laziness, you've really prodded me into working. Really.I DO have my story all planned out and most of the ending is already written! However the spring semester is starting, and there's that weekend job as a sandwich monkey… Support is still very much appreciated! I refuse to let this fic die.