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nerdyqueerandfulloffear · 6 years ago

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Crimson: Chapter One

Warnings: Blood, abuse, unusual punishment

I hate how Jared has broken me. If the situation had happened before, I wouldn’t freeze like this. Like a coward. Footsteps break the thick silence. The light from the living room becomes blocked and I see the silhouette of a man with a knife, dripping blood. Jared’s blood. I whimper as the man gets closer. He sits on the edge of the bed and reaches out to grab me, but he doesn’t. No, he grabs the blankets, slowly dragging them down, exposing my bare chest.

“Poor puppy,” a deep voice says causing me to shudder, “are all these bruises from him?” He gently touched a purple bruise on my side, “He never treated you right now did he?” I started to cry. I don’t know if it’s because this man just killed the only person who would talk to me, cared about me, on campus. Or because everything he is saying is right.

“He treated you as something lesser, like some sort of toy he could play with? Then he hurt you when you refused didn’t he?” I hate it. I hate that he’s right. I denied it for so long but he’s right.

“There there puppy,” he wiped the tears from my check, “no need to cry. He can’t hurt you anymore.” The sentence ends with a jester to his knife. My tears slow down but don’t stop. I stare at the man as he wipes the blood off one side of the knife. He licks the blood of the finger before basically shoving it down his throat.

The finger was removed with a sickening pop. He turns his attention back to the knife. He wipes the other side of the knife with the same finger before placing it against my lips. I don’t move to do anything but instead, look at the man with wide pleading eyes. He removes the finger from my lips before licking it clean. I feel Jared’s blood against my lips. I hated the way Jared had started to treat over months, but I never realized how much I relied on him for protection.

“Come on puppy, it’s time for us to leave.” He gently pulls me out of bed. My body still hasn’t had time to unfreeze, I fall into the strange man’s chest. He wraps an arm around my waist, keeping me upright. I turn my head away from his stare to see my glasses Jared had put on his side of the bed. I reach my arm towards them, expecting to have it get smacked away like normal, but it doesn’t. Instead, the man grabs my glasses before gently putting them on me.

“There, all set puppy. Now we really need to get going. Can you walk pup?” Without thinking, I nod my head.

“Good, now be careful where you step, don’t want to cut your feet now do we?”

We slowly make our way into the living room. If his arm wasn’t holding me up, I would be flat on my face. I keep my gaze on the floor, avoiding the glass from the shattered coffee table. My attention is soon brought to the blood cover feet. I stop walking. Jared. My stomach turns.

“Look away pup, you don’t want to see. Look away.” He tries to pull me along but I can’t. My eyes travel up his body. His skin was a sickening pale. Much worse than the time he was in the hospital. Blood slowly oozes its way out of the cuts were pieces of glass shards stook out. Before I can make my way to his chest, my head is quickly buried into the crook of the man’s neck.

“You don’t have to look pup. You don’t want to look. You just can’t look away. I know.” We continue to walk through the living room. I whimper each time I feel myself step on a shard. When we get to the doorway, his hand leave the back of my head and I quickly look back into the apartment. I bite my lip, trying not to let the vomit escape my mouth.

I’m looking into Jared's eyes. When we first met, when we were in love, his eyes reminded me of grass peeking its way through the snow at the beginning of spring. I used to love his eyes. As time went on, and our relationship broke. His eyes slowly became poison. A deep sort of toxic that was controlling him, breaking what we had. But now they were different. They were empty and cold.

Only one though. The other had a glass shards in it, causing blood to trickle down his pale face. I wish I had control of my body. I would break free of this grip, run to Jared and see if there was a chance to save him. I would definitely be in for a beating, but at this point, I don't care. I just want to be in his arms, his hands going through my hair instead of being pressed against this stranger. I want my Jared back.

“I told you not to look pup,” the man says while his grip tightens. I whimper in pain and he gives a small chuckle.

“Sweet little puppy. Couldn’t help yourself now, could you? Now that you got that out of your system, we need to leave.” I don’t respond as he slowly walks me away from the apartment, closing the door in the process, leaving Jared behind us as we walk out of the complex.

———————————————————————————————————

I didn’t realize I fell asleep until I woke up in silk sheets. As I look down I see that my chest is no longer bare. No, instead it’s covered by a red and black ombré sweatshirt. My eyes go up and I look at my surroundings.

The walls were a cool gray on the top half and black on the bottom with a line of deep red separating them. The bed was a queen size with black sheets and red bedding. The bed post was simple with cedar wood. Next to the bed was a small side table that looks like a slice out of a wood trunk that had a plain lamp with a white shade on it contrasting to the dark color scheme of the wood.

I pulled my feet out of the sheets to see my feet were bandaged. The bottom of my feet had brown spots of dried blood from the glass cuts. I hiss as I put my weight on them when I stand up. My legs are slightly shaky, but my full control of them is mostly back.

I walk towards one of the two doors and slowly push it open. It was a bathroom. There are black tile floors which contrast with the white appliances. There was a decent size bathtub without a shower head above it. The toilet was bright white and looked like was cleaned quite often. The countertop for the sink was white marble with a simple, small mirror above it.

My appearance wasn’t the best. Red tear streaks went down my face. My eyes were still red from crying. My hair was thrown all over the place, which was typical bed head. It was much worse when my hair was longer. I had my down past my shoulders a long time ago. I would always through it into a messy bun before first period.

I also lost my long hair though. It was around the time I lost my Jared. He had started taking medication after he got out of the hospital and the withdrawal symptoms on the day he ran out were really bad. I still have a scar on my leg from it. But he cut my hair off that day. Once we got a refill and he calmed down, I was swarmed with apologies. And I forgave him. I always forgave him. Even when he didn’t deserve it. But I thought if I did, I might get the man I was in love with back. But I was stuck with the man that had possessed him.

My lips were another thing I noticed. Jared’s blood, now dried, was still on my lips. I grab the white hand towel and quickly wet it. I bend over the sink and start scrubbing my lips, trying to get the image of Jared’s dead body out of my head.

As I go to put the towel back, something catches my eye. A drawer under the sink is slightly open allowing the light through the tiny window to hit something metal, give the shine that hit my eye. I open the draw wider to find a pair of scissors, the type you would find in a barber shop or hair salon. I pick them up and examine them. There was little rust indication that they weren’t new, but other than that they looked in good condition.

An idea came to my head, causing me to quickly pocket the scissors. I walk out of the bathroom and open the second door. A hallway is what I was greeted with. With a had in my pocket, death gripping the scissors, I walk outside the room.

I make my way into the kitchen to see my kidnapper in front of a stove, stirring something in a pot. My eyes wander to the front door.

“Shit,” I mumble under my breath realizing that I had forgotten my glasses in the room. My vision wasn’t too bad, but the door was too far away to see how it was locked.

My mumble was apparently loud enough to gain his attention. The man turns around and smiles at me. The light may have been on in the apartment last night, but this was the first time I got a good look at him.

He had black hair that was long enough that some fell in front of his eyes with a deep, almost unnoticeable red tips. His eyes were a deep brown like a natural soil, not the ones you buy at the store. His nose was slightly skewed as if it had been broken before. He was not pale like Jared or me, but not tan either. He stood tall, maybe six foot or more. He had a smile that gave off fake sweetness.

“Puppy, it’s about time your up. I was just making something for us to eat. Come, sit.” The way he said the last words made it sound like he was talking to an actual dog. I warfully walk towards the kitchen island, which also was white marble, and sat down in one of the barstools.

“Do you like the sweatshirt pup? I wanted to make sure I had something that fit you.” I don’t respond, he sighs.

“Pup, I know you’re not mute, I heard you last night and just now. I want a verbal response when I ask you a question. I do understand why you didn’t speak last night and I’ll let it slide. Okay?” Remembering when Jared went through this phase I quickly respond with a quiet,

“Yes, sir.” His eyes widen at my response.

“Pup, please don’t call me sir. I’m not that old. My name’s Damien.” I grip the scissors tighter in my pocket as he moves closer until he’s next to me. He, unlike Jared yesterday, gently grabs my chin so our eyes meet.

“What about you pup? What’s your name?” My eyes dart to the door behind him, then back to his stare.

“Alex,” is all I say before removing the scissors from my pocket and stabbing him in his shoulder, causing his grip on me to loosen and a hiss to escape his lips. I escape his arms and run for the door. But I quickly come to a stop was the door become clear. Around ten different locks were on it, he would be able to get me before I had a chance to get the first five unlocked.

I turn back to see him staring at me with wide, almost black, eyes. He takes a step towards me. I bolt past him and into the room I woke up in, slamming the door behind me. I quickly grab the side table, the lamp falling off and bulb shattering in the process and put it in front of the door.

I push against the table attempt to make some sort of barricade with my limited supplies until I can think of a way out of here. My attempt fails and the door is pushed open, causing the table and me to fall down. More specifically, the table fell on top of me.

I look up in terror to see the ma- Damien looking down at me. Blood is falling out of the wound and some fall on to my face as he bends down and removes the table. I can feel myself start to freeze again, but I won’t let it happen. I scoot backward as he continues to walk towards me until I’m pushed into a corner.

He bends down and I quickly make an ‘x’ over my face with my arms in preparation of being hit. Instead, he moves my hands from my face but doesn’t release them.

“ I’m not going to hit you pup. I won’t ever hit you. I go by a simple rule. An eye for an eye. If you hurt me, you get punished,” I flinch at his words, “But if I hurt you, I get punished. Now does that sound fair?” I stare at him for a long time before nodding.

“Verbal responses pup.”

“Yes, Damien.” He sighs.

“We’ll work on that later. Now though, you need to listen to me.”

“Okay,” I whisper. He lets go of my hands.

“Now, remove the scissors.” I look at him before carefully wrapping my hand around them. He nods his head and I slowly start to pull the scissors out. He hisses in pain until they are completely removed. The blood flow speeds up and in the light, it has an almost white shine to it.

“Remember how I cleaned my knife yesterday? Well, I want you to copy that.” I whimper at the idea of having the terrible copper taste in my mouth.

“Come on pup, it's only fair. You did stab me.” I sigh in defeat before repeating what I saw last night. My finger slowly glides up the scissors until I reach the tip. I look to see my finger covered in the same shining liquid before giving it a small lick.

It tastes different than I expected. The copper taste isn't the first thing that hits me. Instead, I'm hit with a salty, bitter taste with the copper following after it. What's worse than the taste is the texture. It wasn't liquidly like it looked, no. It was warm and silky. I fight my stomach, trying to keep yesterday’s breakfast down.

“Licking it off wasn’t the only thing I did last night.” I grimace before slowly putting my finger in my mouth. He smiles and threads a hand through my hair, causing me to shudder as I start to suck the disgusting fluid off my finger.

Unlike Damien yesterday, when I removed the finger from my mouth it didn’t make the sickening pop, but instead, a trail of saliva connects my finger to my lips. He breaks the trail, wrapping my saliva around his finger, before licking his finger clean.

“There’s another side pup.” He says while wiping his finger clean on his pants. Using the same finger that was just in my mouth, I wipe the other side of the scissors until my fingers are covered in the same red. I bring my finger to his lips as he did to me yesterday. He smirks before putting my finger in his mouth.

If sucking on my own finger wasn’t weird enough, this was a different experience. I feel every vile movement he makes. Whether his tongue trailed its way over my finger, or when his cheeks hollowed, I felt every violating movement.

He removes my finger from his mouth and I’m quick to wipe it on my pajama bottoms.

“You did so good pup. You ready for the next part?” I whimper at the idea of this continuing on. But I nod my head.

“I’ll accept the non-verbal response for now pup, but next time no exceptions. Now, sit your finger in the wound.” I look at him with wide eyes.

“Are are you su sure?” I ask. He nods his head and smiles.

“I’m sure pup. Now go on, be a good puppy.” I sigh and gently put my finger on the blood gushing wound. With a shaky breath, I push my finger into the wound up to my distal interplanage joint. There’s probably a simpler name for it, but I can’t remember at the moment. He hisses in pain but doesn’t tell me to stop. When he stops hissing, I hear how shaky his breathing is.

“Good pup,” It’s almost like a whisper when he says it, “Now move your finger around a bit, but don’t go any deeper.” I can feel my heartbeat rise as do what I’m told. I start off slowly pushing my finger back and forth, the motion causing the wound to bleed fast, covering my hand in it.

“You’re a good pup. So good for me.” I shudder at the praise as the image of the worst night of my life comes into my head.

‘ “You’re so good at that princess. So good for me. Such a good little pet.” ‘ I start to cry from the memory. I had almost forgotten about it until now. Jared had been there to save me before things get worse and I just want that to happen again.

“It’s okay pup no need to cry, it’s almost over.” He says while wiping the tears off my cheeks.

‘ “Don’t cry princess, it’s almost over. Then we can get onto the fun part.” He licks the tears off my cheeks.’ I wanted Jared to burst through the door and pull me away from him. I want Jared to kiss my forehead and tell me that I’m safe. I want Jared.

“Can you hear me pup? I need you to breathe.” I didn’t realize I was having an attack until now. I start trying to steady my breathing as he treads a hand through my hair. When he did it before it felt wrong, but now it was almost comforting.

My breathing patterns slowly became normal as his hand left my hair.

“It’s okay, Alex.” It’s the first time he has used my real name, “Can we continue? I know you want this over with as soon a possible and I’m fine with that.”

“I I think I think so.” I stutter out. He smiles with that fake sweetness again.

“Good. Now remove your hand,” I do so to see that it’s almost fully covered in his blood, “and replace it with your tongue.” My eyes widen with shock.

“Wh what?” I ask in disbelief. He moves his shirt down so the wound was easy to get to, also exposing blood stained skin in the process.

“I want you to clean the wound the same way you cleaned your finger. Do that and we can be done with this.” Is this man insane?

“What, what if I refuse to?” His expression goes dark.

“You don’t want to find out. Now go on.” I can feel my whole body shake, but I do as he says.

I gently start by placing my lips on the wound. I open my mouth to do the first lick but was met with the wound gushing blood at the same time. I’m quick to close my lips after that, swallowing fast so I don’t have to deal with the texture or too much of the taste.

“Try starting lower pup, so you don’t get a mouthful again.” He says. I move lower so I’m near his collarbone to start. I grudgingly start to lap at the blood, slowly making my way back up to the open wound itself. My face feels covered in blood but is washed away with my tears. As my tongue glides over the wound itself, I hear him hiss in pain.

I pull away from his body and look him with pleading eyes. He leans towards me and runs his tongue over my blood stained lips, not trying to force his way inside my mouth, but more as a cleaning manner.

He pulls away and stands up, taking a few steps back. I didn’t realize I was leaning against him until I collapse to the ground, covered in blood, tears, and a mix of both mine and his saliva. I wrap an arm around myself and start to sob. I shouldn’t have said anything yesterday. Maybe Jared would still be alive, holding me as he starts to wake up. Or maybe we both be dead. Either option would be better than this.

He walks out of the room as I turn so my face is to the wall as if it was my protection. I hear his footsteps as he enters the kitchen, then the sound of water running. He’s probably cleaning the wound, leaving me here covered in his blood. I should go clean up myself, but I don’t have the strength to get up. I’m drained emotionally.

The water stops and I hear cabinets open before closing. He's probably looking for a first aid kit. The sound of a fridge opening confuses me. What does he need in a fridge? Silence takes over as my sobs dies down.

I hear footsteps come become louder before there’s a shadow above me. I turn my head to see him place a tray on the ground. On the tray is a bowl, a facecloth, and a water bottle.

“Wash up pup, then we can have lunch,” Damien said. I turn completely around and scoot towards the tray. I reach towards the face cloth to find it’s already wet. I quickly wipe my hand before going to wipe the blood and tears off my face.

I put the face cloth down once I found my face clean enough for now. I grab the water bottle and start to clean out my mouth. I spit the water in the bowl, feeling the awful taste slowly leave my mouth with each mouthful of water.

Once the water bottle is empty, the taste is still there, but mostly gone. The salty and bitter taste is gone, but the copper is still there. I look up to see Damien looking down at me.

“You all set pup?” I sigh and nod. I still feel absolutely disgusting, but I'm clean enough for now. He reaches a hand out to me and I hesitate for a moment before taking it. He walks me into the kitchen by the hand and leads me to the same seat I was at before I stabbed him. He squeezes my hand before releasing it as I sit down. I’m quick to wrap my arms around myself, using them as some sort of fake protection.

“I hope spaghetti is fine. If not I can make you something else.” I stare at the floor and hug myself tighter.

“It’s fine,” I mumble into the sweatshirt. He sighs and I hear what I believe to be the stove turning off.

“Look,” I tear my eyes away from the floor to see him draining the steaming water from the pot, “I know we got off to a bad start-” I roll my eyes “-but I want you to know I have no intention of hurting you, in any way.” I sigh before making direct contact with his eyes for the first time.

They way he’s looking at me wasn’t like when Jared would lie to me. It’s a strange mixture of searching and, fear. His eyes show old age that contrast with his young form. His eyes are heavy and sunken. The bags underneath were quite clear, as if he hadn’t gotten a decent night sleep in months.

I’m the one to break the eye contact and the heavy silence.

“Would,” I sigh and hug myself tighter, “Would you be mad if I said I don’t believe you?” I meet his eyes again, but only for a moment as he turns back to the spaghetti. His eyes showed something close to disappointment.

“It’s okay.” He puts a plate of spaghetti in front of me before going to a small pot on the stove. “I gave you a bad impression of me, I understand why you’re wary of me.” He turns around with the small pot in his hands, turning it slightly to expose the red inside.

“Sauce?” I nod. He opens a drawer and grabs a fork and a spoon before walking so he stood next to me. I move over ever so slightly. He puts the fork by the plate before moving the pot so it’s above my plate. The sauce seems thinner than usual, covering the pasta more like a salad dressing than anything. I shake any speculation away, it could just be the brand.

He moves back towards the stove and I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. He reaches above the stove and opens the cupboard to grab two wine glasses. He places one in front of me and one on the other side.

“I-I do-don’t drink,” I say as he grabs a wine bottle out of the fridge. He ignores my comment and starts pouring me a glass.

“It’s not that strong. Come on now, eat.” He starts to pour himself a glass. I sigh in defeat before picking up my fork. He put his plate next to me before sitting down and eating himself. The copper taste is still in my mouth as I eat, but I try to ignore it.

I give a sigh once my plate is half empty. The copper taste just won’t go away. I pick up the wine glass and swirl it around a bit. If it gets rid of the copper taste in my mouth so be it.

...

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