SO, ANOTHER WARNING GUYS. THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MATURE MATERIAL NOT SUITABLE FOR AN AUDIENCE UNDER 16-. PLEASE, IF YOU FIND SEXUAL/ABUSIVE MATERIAL TRIGGERING OR DISTURBING, DO NOT READ.
NOW THAT SAID, HOPE YOU ENJOY. (Oh and listen to the song! I think it fits pretty well :D )
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Chapter 51
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I tiptoe into frigid waters, shielding my naked shoulders from icy wind. It's the day after and with the dawn of a new sun comes new regrets. Shivering, I plunge into the deep, sighing as the cool liquid runs over my still swollen breasts. The water reaches up to my neck, gently lapping at kiss marks delivered by a death soldier. Bruising love bites pepper my bosom and stomach. Sore to the touch, there is no doubt Butcher tasted, devoured, and enjoyed as he pleased.
Only when night turned to day did we finally disentangle our bodies. I fell into exhausted slumber under a sky of fading stars. But Butcher existed even in my dreams, where I kissed and loved him eagerly.
Looking to the heavens, I know now that I am forever lost. There's no saving me now. Butcher finally has what he always wanted—all of me. I gave him everything, even shouting his name as I cried and burned with his touch. I fulfilled the prophecy. He was right. It only took a week for him to lure me beneath his frame and make me cry his name. My soul sold down the river, I close my eyes and contemplate my fate.
They will call me a fallen woman now.
But we all fall, don't we? Who on this earth is truly pure? Haven't we all been painted with black and red? Haven't we all had a scarlet letter written on our back?
After rinsing myself clean, I climb onto a rock in the middle of the shallow lake and comb my fingers through tangled ringlets. My ebony skin gleams in the sunlight, a sheen of cool water setting me aglow. Slowly, the tangles come lose and the kinky strands gather into a glorious mane. I shake out the wet curls, smiling as they drop down to my hips.
Throwing my head back, I let my skin drink in the sun. No one's here to see my risqué pose, no one for miles and miles. Butcher left my side in the early morning, rising at the same time as the chirping birds. I watched as he headed off to God knows where, too delirious to beg him to stay. As he walked into the sunrise, my heart twisted and roared. What if this is the last I see of him, I thought.
Perhaps all he wanted was my soul and now that he has it, I no longer tempt his eye. Perhaps that was the only reason he wanted me. He planned this all along. After corrupting me in that dimly lit cave, maybe he took all his weapons and made his way to another poor soul.
No. I bite my lip and shut out these insecure thoughts. He wouldn't leave me now.
Would he?
But... Shouldn't I want him to leave?
Shame should overwhelm me. I should bow my head and hide from the light. But I only feel more alive than ever. Grief's black shadow moves from my side and releases my mind from her prison. I could grow wings and fly. I could sing and never stop. Closing my eyes, I remember his arms imprisoning me, his lips roaming my chest, and how it felt as he ravished me and blew my world wide open.
Planting myself firmly on the stone, I sprawl across the cool surface. My cheeks blush as I remember everything I let Butcher do to me, but I can't seem to regret any of it. Call me stupid, call me a slut, I don't care. Call me a victim, call me a brainwashed fool, I'll pretend I didn't hear.
The only thing that unsettles me is how I'm overlooking a very important piece of Butcher. And that's the fact that he is a butcher, and maybe the best butcher there is. A born killer, trained from birth. How many bodies has he dismembered? What's the head count? How many notches does he have marked in his belt?
Has he killed girls like me before?
How do I come to terms with the fact that I allowed this murderer to play me like a tortured violin, to ram me between my legs?
What does that say about me?
How can I make love to someone who's bathed in blood? Innocent blood.
I collapse onto the hard surface, biting back percolating emotion. My lungs rise shakily and the truth hits like a meteor.
I am a fool.
I am the dumbest fool there is.
How do I know he won't kill me too?
I drift off into a wonderland full of misery and blinding passion.
What have I let him do to me?
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My eyes pop open when I hear voices. To my alarm, they come from the opposite shore, raucous and uncontrollable. From how loud they are, I realize I am seconds away from being spotted. Fright burns down the length of my body and I cross my legs instantly, screaming mentally at myself for traipsing naked in broad daylight. My Garden of Eden fantasy meets brutal reality, leaving me vulnerable and petrified.
I flatten myself against the rock, hoping that perhaps no one will be the wiser. Taking a deep breath, I collect my wits. If Butcher has taught me anything, it is to stay levelheaded if you want to have the upper hand. Breath in and out, I tell myself. Everything will be okay.
The sun hangs directly over and I guess the time to be nearly twelve o'clock. Butcher won't be back for hours, not until the sun is almost gone. I am completely on my own, defenseless and totally bare. Cursing my stupidity, I lie still as a corpse and hold my breath.
At first it seems as if the intruders will continue on their way, blind to the disturbance in the relatively peaceful forest. Birds still twitter overhead and if you listen closely, you can hear melting snow dripping onto waiting moss. I breathe easier and relax, promising fate I will never again be so naïve.
Unexpectedly though, the footsteps halt and the woods go silent.
It's then I know I am out of luck. It bleeds into the river, leaving behind helpless me.
When the footsteps come splashing into the water, I scramble onto my knees, throwing my curls out of my eyes. I modestly attempt to cover my chest, but my efforts are futile with the beaming sun illuminating my nakedness.
Terrified curiosity beckons me to sneak a peek at my pursuers before I jump off the rock into the lake. My gaze lifts just slightly, but I see enough to turn my blood into a river of ice.
Raiders.
Raiders coming towards me.
"Don't wake up now, darling," the largest one calls. My eyes swell and I choke on my own air.
He's nearly as big Butcher. His shoulder span reminds me of a raging bull and his bulging biceps, just like Butcher's, could crush heads. When he curls his fingers into fists, I imagine deadly boulders pounding me to a bloody mess. The only feature that shows he's human and not some mutated monster is the curly brown hair cascading down his shoulders and his large brown eyes. But even in those irises, I glimpse no hint of mercy or humanity.
Black tunic splattered with dried blood and bits of cut up intestines, he advances, expression hungrier than a starving Fynx. A somewhat scrawnier fellow follows in his wake, appearance reminding me of the devil himself. A twisted, psychotic smile cuts across his face and his eyes glitter with malicious desire.
"Fuck, it's been so long."
"Darling, you're beautiful! You're just perfect."
"Lord, look at the tits on this bitch!" the smaller one groans. "I'm so fucking hard already."
A third Raider flashes his teeth, appearing for all intents and purposes, like a wild, godless animal.
"I have her first." He glares at me, cackling. "Right bitch, I get you first?"
Faster than a stroke of lightning, I leap off the stone and run for the shore. Heart screaming, legs wobbly with horror, I tear through the water, splashing up waves. The three Raiders follow in fast pursuit, faster than anything I've ever had to outrun. Perhaps even faster than the time I had to outrun a Fynx.
I'm almost to the edge when a hand latches onto my arm. My lungs evict all my air and I give a holler loud enough to shake the earth. Fear, so violent I nearly pee myself, consumes me. When I try to rip myself free, another attacker grabs my other arm, forcing me to face their leering bodies.
"Scream bitch," the large one laughs, "No one can hear you."
"Scream when I'm inside you," the second Raider adds in.
"Get the hell off me!" I shout, yanking at my arm. Chills and tremors rip up my spine, causing my teeth to rattle. Horrified tears threaten to spill but I steel myself, hardening my jaw and narrowing my eyes. The third Raider who claimed me for himself shoves his partners aside and takes me by the waist, his free hand snatching my hair and bending my neck so far back I scream, thinking it'll break. His stench of dead corpses and rotting guts chokes me.
"Say one more word and I'll kill you and fuck your dead body," he warns.
I gasp at his response, fighting for air. Abruptly, the tears break free.
There's no way out of this... Oh God, I was so stupid. Knowing my fate, I dissolve into my fourteen year old self again, preparing to grit my teeth and escape to my happy meadow. There, as these attackers greedily feast on stolen pieces of me, I can fly away and hide safely in my mind.
The Raider eases his grip when he sees I plan to be compliant.
"Good bitch," he mocks, leaning down.
Then I strike.
I slam my knee into his sweet spot, shoving his erection up and backwards. Air escapes him like a balloon. He wheezes out as if I just stabbed him and crumples into the waves. I shove him hard, wielding his massive frame as a weapon over the other two. His bulk slams into the smallest one and sends him underwater. Without another look back, I run like hell for the woods.
The second Raider tracks me, cursing viciously. His brown mane flies behind him, appearing just like a cloak of death.
"You're gonna die in pieces now, whore!"
My bare chest bounces up and down and outstretched branches slash my naked skin, leaving ugly red welts. I run wild, like a doe escaping a slaughtering wolf. The air hangs heavy and cold. Goosebumps from terror and the chill burn all over my body. The beast advances more and more with each stride. Soon his demented partner joins him, dripping wet and crazed, albeit still ready to drench the ground with innocent blood. Though I have miraculously managed to get away again, I know this will end with me blacking out as these Raiders entertain themselves inside of me. Eventually the third Raider will recover from his pathetic wound and these three godless death soldiers will hunt me down.
They are predators and I am the unlucky prey.
The bleak ending causes me to burst into sobs. I would be a greater fool to think that there is anyone left to help me. All my family died and Butcher is far, far gone... I'm sure if this was a normal tale with a heroine and a proper hero, he would materialize out of nowhere and rescue me, riding a great white horse and carrying a gleaming sword. But that's not how this world works. That is not how it worked with Cuth. I gritted my teeth and took the pain, screaming until I realized screaming did no good.
This ending happens every day for women. We black out during the inflicted agony and endure resulting insomnia and fear-packed nightmares for the rest of our lives.
The tears cause my vision to blur. I would care if I thought I could outrun the Raiders, but what's the point. The first Raider is literally at the gates, tearing down the barricade. When he grabs a fist of my curls and slams me on my back, I barely give a yelp of surprise. He looms over me, face contorted with lustful thirst. The others quickly join him. The one I attacked bends over me, water droplets from his filthy tunic hitting my face.
At first I think he's going to say something but when blinding pain blazes and my head snaps to the left with a crack, I realize that's not what he planned. Blood pools in my mouth from his vicious slap, bubbling between my lips. Blackness filled with yellow stars takes over. A moan escapes from my mouth just as the next wave of inflicted pain hits. My jaw explodes, reeling from a kick, and my head jerks up, digging into the earth. Crimson pours in from my nose. I gurgle, thrashing, afraid I will drown on my own blood.
A far away voice commands someone to part my legs. I whimper, squirming in an abyss of black and pain. But hands hold me fast, stretching me wide open. I writhe uselessly, screaming as a fat thumb shoves its way inside. They laugh and taunt me, invasively stabbing the inner parts of me.
And suddenly, it all stops.
At first I think I'm dreaming or that I have transported myself to my imaginary meadow, but then I hear the booming, enraged voice too. The hairs on my neck raise and terror splashes over like a cold wave. Is the voice furious with me too? Will he attack me too? As unforgiving hands release me, my eyes flutter open and I stare up at the canopy.
The familiar voice rumbles again and I blink, trying to remember. The events of today have destroyed my memory.
Suddenly the truth hits. Recognition causes me to cry out with surprise.
Panic erupts and I dizzily scramble to my feet, whirling to see the speaker. I shield as much of my body as I can from view and stare up into blazing blue orbs.
"Butcher," I whisper. Disbelieving, I expect him to disappear like a phantom. His approach is too well-timed, too good to be true.
Standing taller than all of the three Raiders, Butcher slashes his way out of the forest's shadows. Dressed in the same black tunic, he looks just like the other bloodthirsty killers. Shimmering hair pulled back by twine and chiseled jaw taut with rage, I would believe it if someone told me he was in charge of them. The similarities between the two causes fear to arise in my chest. What if he wants to finish the game?
Slippery wetness from forced sex drips in-between my legs. I whimper, knowing that it's too late for rescue anyway. I've already been sullied. No one likes messing with soiled goods, especially not if it's been done by three men. A possessive warrior like Butcher will find another innocent soul to pleasure himself with, someone who hasn't yet been tasted by others.
I know him.
Biting back the tears, I lower my eyes and curl up as tight as I can, waiting for Butcher to turn a blind eye and begin his search for another lover.
My head lifts in surprise, nonetheless, when a calm, authoritative voice calls my name.
"Come here, Phoenix."
He doesn't have to repeat a word. In seconds, I'm on my feet running to him. I brush past Raiders, who, only moments before, would have had their fun with me and slit my throat. Now they just stand there, dumbfounded.
Reaching Butcher, I throw myself at his feet, sobbing, unable to look him in the eyes.
"Don't listen to them. I didn't want it. They forced me. Please don't let them have me!"
Peeking through my wild curls, I glance back at the three Recreants. Pale and shifting, they stare at each other, eyes wide with understanding.
My principal attacker nervously clears his throat, stepping forward. From the way he stands, it's clear that he's familiar with the name Butcher. But I guess all Raiders know of each other. Or to be honest, I don't have a clue. All I can do is rub my shoulders and long for a scrap of material to shield myself from leering eyes. Cheeks damp with tears, I wipe vainly at my weepy eyes. My teeth chatter and I wince, remembering the hand mercilessly defiling the inside of me.
The attacker speaks first, chuckling lightly, treating the whole debacle as a simple misunderstanding.
"Butcher, we wouldn't have touched her if we'd known she was your whore."
Butcher remains silent as the grave.
The second one with brown hair continues, turning blaming eyes on me.
"It was an honest mistake and she didn't say a word about you. If she had, we would have dropped her, instantly. But you should've seen it, she was sprawled out on a stone like some mermaid, showing fucking everything. Really, you should teach her better..."
"So this is my fault?" Butcher interrupts, voice cool with rage. I shiver, hearing it.
"No!" The reply grows thick with fear. "Not at all. I'm just saying... I had no clue she was yours. Just remember that. I know you're pissed, but remember that, okay?"
"We didn't even know these woods were yours," the scrawny one adds in, cheeks pale as death. "We would've never even come if--."
"Yeah! We would've stayed clear," brown eyes interrupts. "You know that, don't you?"
Butcher nods mockingly, eyes smoldering with fury I have never before seen. Not even when I duped him after the airdrop or held him at gunpoint with his own gun. A wicked smirk cracks on his lips as he looks down at me. Dead silence hangs in the air, not even the sound of breathing breaks the quiet. After a beat, he withdraws a long sword from his weapons belt. I flinch, cowering.
He's going to kill me?
"Butcher," I whimper.
But his eyes leave me, focusing on his fellow Raiders. He takes a step forward, an enraged laugh hitting the air as he glares down at them.
"So which one of you touched her?"
The third Raider glances at me quickly, before taking a hard swallow.
"We had no idea she was yours--."
Butcher cuts him off. "Someone tell me who fucking touched her!"
"I didn't," the smallest one mumbles. "I just let these two have at it."
"He held her legs open!"
"You told me to!"
The answer is simple but these Raiders skirt around it like dogs, jumping forward for a sniff and then skittering back. The decision to rat out each other and save themselves, or to remain as one has them conflicted. They cowardly blame each other until their leader speaks again.
"Butcher," he cuts in, "If it means anything, all us Raiders respect you. Hell, I look up to you. Had we known this was your bitch, we would've walked the other way--."
Butcher snarls, lunging forward and seizing the tunic of his fellow Raider. "It means batshit to me! Why is "my whore" bleeding? That matters. Why is she on her knees, why is she damned naked!?"
"She was already--."
"Shut the fuck up before I cut out your brain and feed it to you."
My mouth hangs open in shock. Suddenly I am afraid, not for me, but for these lawless miscreants. Although I would love to see them punished, I have a feeling they will end up as bloody confetti splattered on the Shadowlands.
"Who fucking touched "my whore"?" Butcher roars.
White-faced and nearly trembling, all three Raiders fumble for a reply.
Butcher roughly releases the largest Raider's tunic, throwing him back. Roaring curses, he whirls to me, high cheekbones stiff with wild rage. At the sight of my pitiful huddled form and nose dripping blood, he gentles only enough to show his rage is not with me.
"Who touched you?" He demands. "Which one? Point."
I shiver, eyes widening at his mandate. To my surprise, my attackers standing behind him gaze at me pleadingly. Something inside me twists, in fury or mercy I don't know. All I can think is, what will happen to me if I tell the truth?
"Point!"
Would he still want me?
"Phoenix!"
At his command, I jolt. I've never had this much power in my life. No one has ever protected me like this. Overcoming my shock, I shakily lift a finger and point at the one who threatened my life and violated me. The predator's eyes widen. Instantly, he drops to one knee and turns a pleading gaze to Butcher.
"I didn't know. I wouldn't have touched her..." he breaks off, "—we're both Raiders, Butcher—we a have Brotherhood—." A sword slashes down, shutting him down completely. A wild scream flies from my lips and my hands fly to my mouth.
A bloody head rolls in the grass, the eyes sightless and empty.
My mind replays the horror and I can't stop shrieking. In one swift, powerful move, Butcher swung and cleanly hacked off the Raider's head. The snap of breaking bone and gush of soft tissue tearing shot violent tremors down my back. The neck lolled to the side, before splitting in two and plopping its human flesh on the bloody earth.
Fresh scarlet splatters Butcher as he turns to the other two. He holds the drenched sword, a weapon wet with guilty blood, and points a finger.
"If I ever see either of you again, I'll kill you," he promises.
Before he finishes the sentence completely, they barrel out of the woods, heading in the direction they came. Shivering, my fear-filled body rolls with terror. I whirl and race deeper into the woods, scared for my life too. I sob when I hear him coming after me, replaying the kill over and over in my head.
He didn't even think, he just slaughtered him.
The head on the grass.
Spurting blood.
The blank eyes once full of life.
When he catches up, I lurch away from his touch, tripping over my feet and falling on my derriere. He lands on either side of me, trapping me in place under his massive weight.
"Don't hurt me," I wheeze, squirming vainly.
The butcher transforms from murderous rage to attentive caregiver.
"You're bleeding," he states, touching the bruise on my cheek.
My eyelashes flutter with a recent flashback.
"You killed him," I murmur again and again, reeling with shock.
"You shouldn't have seen that."
"Why?" I gasp. "Why did you do it?"
The color fizzles from his blue orbs and suddenly I'm staring into emptiness.
"This is the way we live. That's our justice. You wouldn't understand."
My mouth props open and then closes. That's the life of a Raider? To die at a fellow Raider's hand in the blink of an eye? I refuse to wonder if the dead Raider even deserved it, because I truly don't know the answer. But as for Butcher, I would be lying if I said he didn't terrify me to my core. He decapitated the Raider so easily I'm stunned. The skill, the aim, the deadly power...
What villain have I allowed to make love to me?
Butcher takes advantage of my silence, rubbing his hand down my side, stopping just above the V between my thighs. I bite back an involuntary sigh, willing myself not to soften for this merciless warrior. God only knows what he's capable of.
Violence heats in Butcher's eyes as he takes in my state. A violence so intense, I have to stop myself from cowering away from him.
"Where are your clothes?" he finally speaks.
"At the camp."
He stands up, hefting me to my feet. I blush as he takes in the length of me. Thanks to my naïve decision this morning, he can revel in the full view of my naked body. The emptiness in his eyes disappears as the orbs darken with fierce desire. When he reaches out and traces a red welt just under my nipple, I stifle a gasp and shy away, dropping my eyes in shame.
"I'm dirty," I whisper.
"And because of that I can't enjoy you?" he scoffs, drawing me to him. He swoops down, catching the sweet spot between my ear and neck, biting hungrily. I choke back a moan, shutting my eyes. Control yourself, Phoenix, I tell myself, he's dangerous. Yet, despite my admonishment, a passionate gasp still escapes as Butcher hands continue down, traveling down my back to grip my backside. As he squeezes mercilessly, eliciting a shocked exhale from my parted lips, my eyes flutter closed and my legs squeeze together, throbbing with forbidden pleasure.
He craves me still. He hasn't discarded me yet. But perhaps it's because he doesn't understand how far they went. It takes real effort to pull away from him and hold him at bay, even if he did just murder a man right in front of me.
"He touched me," I try to explain without too much damning explanation. "I should clean myself."
"I don't care what he fucking did to you," Butcher murmurs against my skin. "You belong to me."
"But I do," I whisper, sucking back the tears. "I care."
Butcher stiffens.
"I can smell him on me." I drop my voice even lower. "It's in my hair. My skin. I need to wash him off. I need to get rid of him."
Sizzling ocean blues stare into my doe eyes. Butcher possessively grips my waist, lifting my chin and pressing his forehead against mine.
"If I could kill him twice, I would." His voice deepens with controlled rage. "I'd skin him clean, quarter the parts, and burn the corpse."
My eyes enlarge.
He really is a butcher.
He really is.
"You would do that for your whore?" I ask, voice softening with worry. My eyelashes flutter. The murderous intent dissolves in Butcher's eyes as he registers my reply. Dark humor burns in his gaze instead, replacing the gloom. He smirks, watching me with new interest. We both know what we have is a far cry from true love, or love at all. But to simply call it an alliance would be to overlook the intense sexual desire, the passionate affection, and doubtless infatuation. To call it love would be to mock the union of real, genuine lovers.
Lost for definitions, I chose what seemed true. I could lie. I could call us equals or I could say I was an unwilling participant. But after the ninety days tore my world to shreds, to pretend to be anything but the truth seems rather silly.
And the truth?
I am the butcher's bed-warmer, the scarlet woman reminding him of what it was like to have a soul. Through my breathy caress, Butcher accesses a world of innocence and surrender, a hideaway where he can escape the condemning shadow of a multitude of sins.
This is the truth.
Holding back a throaty chuckle, Butcher absently traces a bruise marring my dusky cheek. My doe eyes widen with expectancy, innocent desire still intact despite everything done to me.
"I would kill him again for my whore," Butcher vows in answer. His lips brush my earlobe and a husky whisper fills my ear. "I would kill him just for you."
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Author's Note:
Lowkey freaking out because I feel like people might hate this chapter. If you think I could do anything better, please let me know. I want to make sure I'm writing my best material :)