Okay, this would be okay, everything would be absolutely, totally, incredibly okay. You could do this, it wouldn't be so bad. Sure as hell beats Jeff at least. Were you ready for this though? To be honest, you weren't entirely sure. It was one thing scheming and planning, but to actually do it, to actually be intimate with a person like him. That was a whole different story. The man that had killed so many people, the man that had kidnapped you in the first place, the man that had tortured and terrorized you. Would you even want to live after this? Would being alive feel the same? It felt as if a part of you would die if you went along with this. The moral part, the ethical part, the part that cared about all life on this planet, the part that wanted to go home and fall asleep with no fear in the world.
"W-well?" he asked.
The key word was asked. It was your choice. He wasn't like Jeff, he wouldn't make you, and that just seemed to make it worse. As awful as it sounded, it would be much easier if he'd just force himself on you, at least that way you wouldn't have to live with the guilt. Sure, you can tell yourself you did it all for the sake of survival. Maybe it'll give you a sense of peace now and then, but not forever. You knew you'd wake up late at night regretting this for the rest of your life.
But what was the alternative?
Say no? He'd kill you then. No, not that, not just that. He'd torment you. He'd hurt you in all the ways he had promised to. You knew he'd do it too, your missing finger was proof of that. Was this an easy pass then? A get-out-of-jail-free-card?
Alright then.
One step at a time, take it slow, take it easy. Just start by unbuttoning his shirt, it didn't sound too hard, you could do that surely. Swallowing the fear, you hesitantly undid the button at the collar of his shirt. He didn't react, his hands on your waist as he watched you undo the remaining buttons. The guilt returned when you were out of buttons, his shirt now undone. Not knowing what else to do, you pushed the fabric off his shoulders and down his arms. Even in the darkness you were able to make out the faint scar that lined his chest where you had struck him with the ax. It was almost healed, and your hand subconsciously reached out to touch it. His eyes were locked on your fingers as you did, his breathing noticeably slowing.
Had he ever done anything like this before? Had he ever been with a woman? He was definitely inexperienced when you had first kissed him but kissing and sex were two very different things. Kissing was romantic, emotional, intimate, while sex could be raw and heartless. Jeff had probably had plenty of sex, but you were willing to bet that he had never kissed. So, was Toby the same case? He probably didn't force women like Jeff, but then again, who would freely consent to Toby? He was a murderous psychopath after all. Then again there were some crazy people out there, those that romanticized lunatics and what not.
"Have you ever...?" you decided you might as well ask.
He smirked at that, his smile loosening the intensity of the atmosphere. It wasn't an answer, but there was no point in pestering as he lifted you up onto the bed behind you. Alright, he might be a tad bit impatient. You couldn't help but crawl back a little, not entirely sure if it was to get more comfortable, or perhaps to put a little extra distance between you two. Either way, the distance thing didn't matter as he easily closed it, one hand tightening around the headboard as he leaned in to kiss you again. You vaguely saw his other hand working on his belt and quickly decided to focus all your attention on the kissing.
On a side note, he really seemed to be into the whole kissing thing. Maybe you were just that good at it.
You heard the belt slip through its straps before it was tossed aside somewhere. He stopped the kissing to get rid of his pants, giving you a few seconds to breath and wrap your head around what was inevitably coming next. Nervous. You were nervous. Not necessarily scared but definitely nervous and a little uncomfortable. At least it was dark.
His mouth was on your neck this time, and your hands instinctively came up against his chest, almost holding him at bay. It only seemed to encourage him though, your fingers unavoidably rubbing against the muscles that made up his abdomen. One of his hands had now trailed down your torso, smoothly lifting your leg up and holding it around his waist, opening you up to him. Okay, he knew what he was doing. Well, that answers that question. You decided to close your eyes, maybe that would spare you some of the embarrassment. Maybe keeping absolutely silent would help as well. However, that became next to impossible as his other hand trailed from your waist to your breast, eliciting a gasp as you abruptly sat up.
He stopped, sighing, sitting up again to face you.
"You ha-haven't stopped shaking," he told you, sitting there casually with your legs around his waist.
You simply looked at him, not sure what to say to that. He didn't rush you though, just watching intently until you finally managed to say something, anything.
"It's cold and I'm wet?" you offered that as a believable excuse.
He raised an eyebrow at that before leaning down again.
"Wait, wait!" you quickly pushed him up again, this time coming up to sit too, your arms instinctively folding over your chest.
His expression was a mix of irritation and disappointment as he looked at you expectantly.
"What happens after this?" you weren't sure if you were stalling for the sake of stalling or if you were truly curious. Probably a bit of both.
"Let's hear your t-th-theories?" he suggested, seeming to ease up a little now, leaning back on his arms as he sat there across from you.
You had to hand it to him, the man was patient.
Now all you had to do was keep your eyes focused on his face and nowhere else.
"Let me go?" you knew it was a longshot but there was no harm in asking.
He didn't even bother denying it.
"Right..." well, it was worth a try. "Are you gonna kill me?"
"We'll see."
That wasn't exactly comforting.
"Are you gonna take me back there?"
He didn't answer again. Maybe a different line of questions would be a better option.
"For such a violent murderer, you're pretty considerate in this department."
Still no response, then again that wasn't really question, more of an observation.
"Why don't you die?" you asked bluntly. Now that was a question and a rather straightforward one at that.
"Hmm," he thought about that for a moment, his eyes not leaving yours for a second. "Supernatural p-powers at w-w-work."
"Were you born this way?" you tilted your head a little, leaning back against the beds headboards.
"N-n-not exactly," was his vague response.
"Is there any way... to kill you?"
He laughed at that, a short, deep, dark laugh.
"Planning something?" he asked before his smile disappeared, his eyes darkening for a moment. "S-s-speaking of bad ideas..." his hand came up to the scar at his chest.
He was still mad about that. Would he still hurt you after this was all done and over? Would he torture you for it? Might as well ask, better now than later.
"Are you going to hurt me?" you asked, a little disappointed at how meek and pathetic your voice sounded at that moment.
"Definitely."
Your stomach began to churn with dread, but what did you expect? Suddenly following through on this whole romance thing made you feel sick. But it was your only chance, wasn't it? You're only chance at surviving. It didn't seem worth it anymore, not when a world of pain was all that waited for you on the other end. What would he do to you? Take the rest of your fingers? Maybe the entire hand? The anticipation was killing you. You knew it was coming, you knew it was only a matter of time, you knew there was no escaping now.
Dying was your only real shot at being free, but you had missed it and now you would suffer for it.
"I just wanna go home," you had never sounded more pathetic in your entire life. "I wanna work my unfair, underpaying jobs. I wanna stress and crash over university assignments. I wanna freeze in the autumn because heating bills are too damn high. I wanna die."
"Is t-th-that so?" his voice was exceptionally cold as he cut in. "You w-wanna die?" He was dead serious. "They're out there w-waiting for me. Go on, run f-for it. They won't hesitate to kill you. Tim's been fantasizing about it the moment you showed up."
You weren't sure why, but you stood up at that moment, your hands still wrapped around your chest as you slowly walked the distance to the door. Toby didn't move, not bothering to stop you as you placed a hand on the door knob. Turn it. Run. They'll see you. They'll kill you. And then, this would all be over, you'd be free, no more pain, no more crying, no more guilt. It felt like an eternity had passed as you stood there, your hand still around the knob as you stared into the wooden frame, as if it held all the answers to your problems. In a sense it did.
But that's the thing, life is so tricky to explain. The need to survive is even harder. Maybe it's self preservation, you weren't sure, you didn't know. All you did know was you couldn't do it. You couldn't kill yourself. You wanted to, the urge had never been stronger, but despite all your mental screaming you simply couldn't turn the knob. The need to cry had once again returned, but at this point you were well out of tears. Might as well save them for the torture that would ensue soon after.
Your fingers dropped from the knob, your body feeling sick and incredibly tired as you turned back to the bed. The cold floor did nothing to relieve your anxiety as you took one step after the other, crawling back on the bed before dropping your head on the mattress. Your legs shamelessly opened, you didn't care at this point. However, you did take a moment to grab one of the pillows, holding it over your face in a poor attempt of hiding how pathetic you looked and felt at that moment.
You felt the mattress sink as he placed a hand beside your head, holding himself up on top of you. You also felt him tug the pillow away, throwing it aside to join his clothes and weapons. Maybe he wanted to see your face as he did it, he wanted to see how awful you felt. You couldn't even bring it in yourself to look at him anymore, your head lolling to the side as you just stared into the darkness that surrounded you.
He sighed at that, his body shifting to the side as he laid beside you, his head propped up on his hand as he looked down at you.
"Wanna know a secret?" he asked quietly.
You didn't even bother responding, you didn't care.
"I-I-it's possible to kill me."
It took a moment for that to sink in, but your eyes noticeably widened the moment it did. He could die? They could die? It was possible to kill them. It was possible to escape. This could all end. It had been a fairly long time since you felt the familiar warmth of hope deep inside yourself.
"H-how?!" you blurted out.
He didn't answer that.
Of course he wouldn't tell you how, but he did tell you it was possible. He was trying to give you hope, he didn't want you to stop fighting. But why? Why did he care so much? Did he care at all? No, he just wanted to have fun with you. He wanted you to try running, he wanted to enjoy the hunt. But wait, he wasn't like that. He had tried to keep you quiet and contained when you were confined to his room. He had made it very clear, that he wanted an easy prisoner. He wasn't like the others, he didn't play with his victims.
Then why?
His expression didn't give you any answers, as blank and cold as ever as he leaned in to kiss you yet again. He was on top of you again now, the mood, atmosphere- whatever it was had returned, and he seemed eager once again. However, this time, you didn't feel all that pathetic and helpless. Man, tonight had been a rollercoaster of emotions, and it wasn't over yet.
You managed to hold still as he ran a hand from the soft skin of your neck down your breasts and to your hips. He seemed to be testing your reactions, taking it slow as his lips moved to your neck once again, picking up where they had left off. His hand pulled your leg around his waist again, lifting you up a little when you finally felt him again. It was impossible not to react, a shiver running up your spine as your legs began to tremble. Then there you went again, sitting up abruptly and pushing him aside.
Toby quite literally buried his head into your neck, groaning in irritation.
"Sorry, it's just... I... I'm just a little-
His hand wrapped around your mouth, silencing you as he gave you a blank look. He pushed your hand back down into the mattress.
"Enough," was all he decided to say, his tone as cold and unfeeling as ever.
You weren't entirely sure what that meant.
He shuffled a bit back, his head dipping down to your stomach. You felt his cold lips against the skin of your abdomen, kissing you gently, comfortingly. Still, it was difficult not to squirm, but he didn't seem to care at this point. His hands had eased themselves around your waist, holding you still as his mouth traveled down your naval. His intentions now became clear, and no, you were definitely not ready. He stopped at your hips, biting down a little, just enough to make you cry out. You felt him smirk against you before he licked a trail down your thigh.
Alright, well he was definitely committed now. Was it so wrong that you couldn't help but shudder, natural reactions beginning to come into play. His touch began to feel hot, everything began to feel hot, then there was this throbbing, probably your heart.
It was then that his tongue sank into your core, and God, it felt hot. Well, hot, exhilarating, electric, and a whole skew of other things that resulted in you arching up, clutching the bedsheets. Your body fell back onto the bed as he held your leg up to give himself more access, his tongue delving deeper, sinful in the most tantalizing of ways.
"T-Toby!" you couldn't help but gasp the name out, a bit embarrassed the moment the word left your mouth. It didn't matter though, it didn't matter if you squirmed or thrashed, his grip was like iron, holding you in place. It seemed his patience only lasted so long, he wasn't giving you any chances now. The world actually seemed to be getting hazier, a certain pressure was beginning to build in your stomach, and it felt incredible. It came in waves, building up, threatening to crash, leaving you moaning and confused.
Your hands had found their way into his hair, reluctantly holding him there as you sighed his name again. Was it you, or did he just growl at that?
You were nearing the edge, the pressure becoming too much, your mind hazing over as your vision was beginning to blur. He seemed to take notice, his tongue coming up to focus at your clit, pushing you over. Did you scream? Cry out his name? Probably both, most likely both. There it was though, that sensation of pure bliss, pure pleasure, pure heaven as you came undone. Him being the tease he was only worsened it by biting down on your clit, resulting in another wave of intensity.
Your head fell back into the mattress, eyes closing with no resistant as recovering the ability to breathe became a struggle. When was the last time someone did that? You sure as hell didn't remember it being that good.
"H-haven't done that before," he admitted, moving up to kiss you for the hundredth time. He tasted like you.
You'd have responded but the warm, fuzzy feeling inside was beginning to lull you to sleep. Your eyes felt heavy, your body felt spent, and rather nonchalantly you turned away from him, shifting to your side and sinking into the mattress. He didn't say anything immediately, he didn't make another move, instead a few seconds of silence passed. You then faintly heard him stand up, grumbling something to himself as he began to slide his jeans back on.