Malevolent (Tex Sawyer)

Malevolent: 27

The thought of my father looking for me rekindled a feeling that I had long since extinguished: hope. To feel it burning in my body like a white hot flame was almost enough to make me tremble knowing that he could be so close. But woven amongst that slight niggle of optimism was dread weaved in my chest just as tightly. Yes, he could only be miles away from me but being closer to myself meant being so near the Sawyers and Hoyt. It was easy to dwell on that detail the longer it took to wrap my head around it. I didn't want him to end in the way of which Tex had promised me and I knew by now that calling his bluff got me nowhere, he was truthful when it came to threats. Whether it was between breaking my fingers or torturing those I dared to develop a friendship with. Brittany was proof of that, Roger as well. Like the others I could barely remember him these days, like someone had put an eraser to the drawing of memories. There was no getting off with anything Tex deemed offensive easily. Then there was a possibility that I myself were a threat to my own dad. I could flicker like a light and one switch could be fatal.

Inhaling gently, I felt my body becoming hard and rigid in a position I was too used to with my wrists over my head and tightly cuffed to a bedpost. It was hard to fathom what life could and would be away from here but whatever came would be welcome. This house was the very pits of Hell and it had been burning and scarring me for far too long. Shrugging my shoulders in an attempt to get the blood pumping again, I ignored the sounds that came from down the hall. Despite trying to keep a low profile, at least temporarily, Alfredo still managed to find someone to keep him entertained whether alive or otherwise all three holes counted to him. The rhythmic thudding echoed along the walls which had previously resulted in bangs from below and Tinker yelling at him to shut the hell up. It only made the threat against my father more real and as if in instinct, my throat felt tighter. Invisible fingers pushing down on the flesh before I turned my head heavily to face the wall trying to cough as quietly as possible. The last thing I wanted or needed was for Tex to awake.

Closing my eyes behind the strands of auburn hair that covered and caressed my face, I ordered myself to be still. Physical movement would cause ripples of movement and the result would be getting mocked, tortured or fucked and frankly none of the thoughts appealed. Instead I ordered everything to be logged mentally. Even if I could not get close to my dad, perhaps there was a chance of getting Brittany out. She didn't pose an impending threat but sneaking her was not an option and she wasn't in much of a position to move. Furthermore if she did get break free, would she be able to communicate in a sufficient way? Without her tongue, it seemed to only be more difficult but not impossible. She didn't need to be vocal to be in obvious distress, it would be ensuring there were no stops.

Allowing my eyelids to unseal once again, I swallowed at the tightening sensation in my neck and attempted to roll my shoulders again as the tense and clenching made itself known that it would be a long night.

"You know, tossing and turning all night is gonna make me want to stay in bed tomorrow." I pulled a face at the familiar voice coming from behind me. It was a grimace that only deepened at the flesh of his arms caressing around my stomach and enclosing the gap I had happily made between us. Even a few centimetres was better than what came from him being so close. His hot breath fanned my ear moistening the lob, his hair rubbing the back of my shoulders as his hips pressed against my back. "All day long."
"I won't move again if you promise to leave." I informed him bluntly, feeling the vibrations of his laughter cause me to shudder. Some things simply could not be tuned out and grudgingly, his touch was one of them. When you truly hate someone everything they do becomes loathsome and that was very much the case here. Having gotten to know him so well it was hard to label one thing I didn't actively dislike and knew that wasn't about to change. "What do I have to do to make sure you don't come back?"
"Oh honey," he hummed amused as if it was harmless wordplay, "I'm a goddamn tick, ain't no getting rid of me."
"Then give me lyme disease already." I replied behind gritted teeth. His giggle pierced my ears sharply, his arm coiling at me like the grasp of a boa snake.
"Wouldn't let you off that easily."
"No, that was probably a compliment anyway." I despaired distastefully. Edward Sawyer was worse than any kind of poison or disease. Tucking himself in closer, I could feel a certain hardness against the back of my leg and tried to hide further revulsion. What I considered to be abhorrence, was his lustful idea to get his dick wet. I hurt enough, and kept my focus from him and onto the wall in front of me. One of his hands slithered up my arm to my coiled wrist, caressing and drumming along the skin. I could feel my stomach clench and heart give sickening thumps of protest. Holding my breath, I felt his tongue press against the warmth of my cheek.