"Once fully enslaved, no nation, state, city of this earth, ever afterward resumes its liberty."
-Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass: "To The States"
Your POV:
"that'll depend on you, sweetheart."
I paused before hesitantly pulling back a bit to look up at him through my lashes, swallowing when my eyes met his... not-eyes. Instead of pupils, two pinpricks of red light floated in his empty sockets, like ruby garnet stars in two vast seas of black. They were frightening as they were mesmerizing, and I found myself tilting my head up fully to try and get a better look.
"Heh... like watcha see there, darlin'?"
I flinched at his voice and leaned back when I realized how close his face had gotten to mine. I averted my gaze and squirmed uncomfortably as he leaned in with half-lidded eyes and a wide, wolfish grin, pressing me closer to him. I was grateful that the cold and my drying tears hid my heated blush.
"fuck, lookit that face... you're killin' me here," he rasped as his grin became tighter, strained.
He came closer still, brushing the crook of my neck and shoulder with his teeth as he chuckled.
"hmmmm..." he greediy drank in my scent before heaving a slow, growling sigh that heated my skin. He sounded dazed, like a man stumbling homeward after a barhopping binge. I let out a low moan of fear as J instinctively began pushing at his chest in a desperate attempt to get away.
'No... no. Please, please no...'
"S-Stop...!" I pleaded desperately, raising my voice for the first time since I'd screamed in the alley. When he stilled against me and loosened his hold slightly, I almost sobbed in relief.
He slowly and stiffly straightened, pulling his dagger-like fangs away from my neck. He looked down at me with an expression I couldn't read. We stared at each other for a few silent moments before he abruptly let me go and stepped away. I watched in bemusement as he promptly turned and walked into the kitchen, crossing the entire living room with just three steps.
"sans."
I cocked my head in confusion. "W-What?" I asked his back.
"s'my name. sans the skeleton," he said as he opened my pantry and started casually rummaging through it like it was a completely natural thing to rifle through someone else's property without permission. I fought a scowl as he continued; there was no point in getting annoyed right now. "nice ta meetcha- well, nice for me, at least. for you, not so much," he chuckled.
He fell silent then as he continued looking for whatever he wanted off my shelves, leaving me to my frantic, panicked thoughts. Quietly as I could, I dropped the blanket from around my shoulders and cast a cursory glance around the room, looking for anything that might help me get away.
"not gonna bother askin' your name; doubt you'd gimme an answer." He huffed out a small laugh. "guess i'll keep callin' ya sweetheart. no skin offa my back."
I continued searching as he talked to himself. My gaze landed on my home phone on the coffee table just five feet away. Maybe if I could just dial 911 while he was distracted... couldn't they track my location or something?
It was worth a shot.
I took one slow step towards my destination before stopping to flinch as the skeleton- Sans- loudly shut my pantry door and moved on to the fridge. What in the world was he looking for??
"for what it's worth..." he said, raising his voice slightly so I could hear. "m'sorry ya had ta see all that mess. can't say i ain't enjoyin' myself here, but still."
I waited a few seconds to make sure he wasn't turning around before inching my way forward, bit by bit towards the phone, keeping my eyes trained on his back the entire way. By some miracle, I made it there without being betrayed by the deafening beat of my fearful heart. I prayed fervently to whatever God might be listening as I laid a trembling hand on the reciever. It was now or never. I finally allowed my eyes to leave him for a moment as I turned my focus to the phone.
Ping.
The second I looked away, my entire body suddenly froze before dropping to the floor like a bag of bricks. My limbs felt like they were encased in concrete; no matter how much I struggled, I couldn't move an inch from my place on the carpet. I felt a strange weight centered around my chest area, hanging heavily on my heart and making it a chore to inhale. Confused and frightened, I flicked my eyes back to Sans to see that he had lifted a hand to hover lazily beside his head; his phalanges were encased in what looked like red fire, burning brightly with the same garnet hue as his eyelights. He hadn't even turned around, but I knew that it was his doing.
Sweat beaded on my brow and tears gathered in my eyes as he pulled something from the back of the fridge and finally turned to face me, kicking the door shut with his foot. He was loose and relaxed as he casually leaned against the fridge, evidently completely unbothered by my bold attempt at an escape. I inwardly cowered under his dispassionate gaze as he studied me, raking his half-lidded eyes over me, drinking me in at his leisure.
I somehow made it to my hands and knees, trembling and panting with the strain of holding myself up against his magic.
He let out a low whistle through his lazy grin. "well damn, lookit you!" He chuckled. "takin' it like a champ! you shouldn't be movin' right now, doll."
It was a good half minute before he spoke again. "...hn. didn't think you'd be such a frail little thing," he muttered thoughtfully as he popped the lid off the- was that ketchup? Was he drinking it straight? What the heck??
"I... what?" I asked, momentarily distracted by his outlandish taste in beverages.
He huffed. "eh. forget it, s'not important. but back ta what i was sayin."
With a sudden mischevious grin, he crooked a single glowing finger at me in a 'come hither' motion. I couldn't hope to resist as I was dragged across the room and into the kitchen by whatever power Sans was subjecting me to.
When I reached him, my wrists were jerked harshly behind my back, causing me to cry out as I was pulled up to float face to face in front of Sans. He gripped my chin and ran his thumb along my lips before crooking it, dipping the tip into my mouth slightly.
"now, ta answer you're question... what happens to you? what i do?" he pushed his thumb a little further in, growling his next words.
"...what i do t o y o u..."
I shuddered.
Sans shrugged then and shifted his hand so that it covered the side of my face and scalp; I tried to ignore the fact that his hand was big enough to grip my entire head.
"like I said; it all depends on you, sweetheart. ya gotta decide now how smart you're gonna be about this, 'cause that?" he jerked his head towards the room behind me in reference to my failed attempt at an s.o.s., "not gonna lie, doll; that was pretty damn stupid. tryin' ta pull a fast one on a friggin' mafioso? can't con a con, darlin'."
My eyes widened as he grinned and wagged a playful finger in front of my face. The mob? Was he some sort of mafia hitman? Oh God, this was so much worse than I'd thought.
"pff. don't gimme that look," He smirked, amusement plain on his face. "You're a smart gal, ya had ta've guessed it by now."
...Maybe.
"well, now thatcha know me... i think it's only fair..." his fanged grin became wider, darker, more menacing as he gently stroked his hand down my face. He trailed his fingers over my cheek, down my neck, over my collar bone... until they came to a halt on my chest, hovering menacingly right over my heart.
"i think it's only fair i get ta learn a bit about you."
P I N G.