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gh0vtzb1og · 6 days

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Easy darlin’. Masters of horror, the following series/ GRAVES X FTM READER

This au is based of ‘masters of horror’ episode 11 and ‘the following’.

Disclaimer; I will not be doing daily writing unless I know I can. Rn I am struggling to find a good pace, please give me grace.

Notes; kidnapping, knife/gun play, bondage, cuts, gagging, tape, overstimulation, transphobia, misogyny, mocking, RAPE/NON CON, marking/biting, forced makeup (smearing lipstick forcefully on you), nipple pinching, forced feminization, age gap (19 - 45), baby trapping(?)

This will not be accurate to said episode or series.

Info on this au; graves is a police officer and murderer who picks you up, why exactly? Find out.

You were sitting on a bus, a brown jacket hugging your body, some wranglers resting upon your hips. They hugged your body in every way they should’ve. You looked so handsome, could barely tell you weren’t biologically a boy until it came to your medium length hair. You liked it though, it wasn’t a big deal, nothing super scary or anything!

Your body ached, you had been on the road for days, hopping on and off buses, trying to get hotels with the little money you had, it was either that or food. You preferred food, of course learning how to live in the forest was hard, especially in this county. It was scary, men were too rough around here, always having their eyes open for pretty things.

Graves was gripping his steering wheel, his hands wrapping around it tightly as his truck drove down the road, his cowboy hat sat in the passenger seat, awaiting to be on his head, protecting his blonde hair. He had a warm duster wrapped around his body, covering his shirt and his waist, a hum leaving his lips as his fingers moved anxiously.

He needed to find something soon before he lost it, I mean he didn’t ever see stragglers until his truck slowed down, a bus lied ahead, completely broken down on the side of the road, 5 people stood by the bus, and one was walking up the road. He seemed to be most interested with the person walking away, smart aren’t they. Wondering on a lonely rode, graves could pull over, drag him in and rape him if he really wanted too.

Graves truck pulled to a stop as he watched you walk up to his truck, your eyes narrowing as you watched his friendly smile on his face, a thick country accent filling his voice. “Can I help? Where you headin? I’m sure I can take you there, it’s a long walk before any civilization hon.” He spoke in a sweet and welcoming tone, a click of a button caught your attention, graves had unlocked the door, he was really expecting you to get in. Maybe you should, this stranger seemed nice.

“How do I know you ain’t gonna like, molest me sir. Dangerous country around here I’ve heard.” You spoke softly, leaning against the rolled down window of his truck as graves watched you with a smirk, you had no clue what was coming. No clue this stranger would strap you to a bed and go fucking wild. Just to hear your petrified moans of pain.

Even if you were dressed like a man, which graves found to be a turn off in his own eyes. He’d take your clothes off and get you back into your comfort zone, you’d learn that he’s what you’d want. Even if you can’t kick or cry away from him, he didn’t care. You’d become what he wanted. Not what you wanted, you already had your chance with that, and you’d clearly failed.

As you leaned over to talk to the stranger, he got a good look down your shirt, seeing your perfect tits. Why would you hide these? They were perfect. He wanted to fondle and grab at your soft and plump fat that laid upon your chest, he’d touch until he was tired, graves was too rough to care whatever you thought.

His eyes trailed back up to your face, unlocking the car once more to try and signal you in. This time it worked, you crawled into the seat and picked up his hat, placing it on your own lap and buckling yourself in. The click of the seatbelt made you soothe almost immediately, your driver shot a toothy grin to you. He wasn’t gonna touch you yet, it would be wrong too. You’d scare easily, he could tell you were a jumpy little fucker. Which would definitely bring a challenge to him.

“Now, what were ya doin all the way out here hm? Definitely doesn’t seem like your type of place sweetheart.” He slowly let the sweetheart roll off his tongue, it felt almost natural when speaking to you. Especially now that he knew taking you to a motel would be worth it. Even if you don’t let him in, he’d just sneak through the window. Plus you didn’t look like you had much money.

“I was just exploring some country, the bus broke down, I was headed more up north, maybe in search of work.” He wrapped his arms around his own body, trying to put up a way of defense, showing he didn’t want to be touched, especially not by this strange man. He smirked, his eyes trailing down your body. He couldn’t wait to get your pants off, teach you what your body wants. How it should be treated, that it wasn’t your own. Nothing was your own, not to him. Graves would teach you that you were his thing to play with and train.

“You seem awful shy, why’s that darling? Nervous?” He grabbed your thigh with a firm grasp. Trying to make sure you couldn’t pull away from him, his grasp was rough and tight. Nails practically digging into your thigh to keep you in place, his grin lair rest upon his face still, his eyes lingering onto your body as his hand moved further up.

“Pull over I wanna get out.” You suddenly interjected his touch. Pulling your leg away and glaring at him, you sure as hell weren’t friendly. Especially when a complete stranger was gripping and groping you.

“No, no. I’ll drive you to a motel, chill out. You’re being dramatic boy.” He spat, watching as you practically curled up as far away from him as you could. Like he had some sort of plague or illness. You didn’t want to say anything else to him, I mean you didn’t have all the time in a he world to let this man grab at you, nor did you invite him to touch on you.

It was embarrassing to sit by him, especially after he groped or attempted to. His truck sped down the road, the surrounding area just turning into flashes of green and whites, the fog covering the surrounding forests. The blonde male looked fii oh you every second or so, he was trying to think of what to say, I mean he’d already freaked you out, maybe he would just take you to the motel and sneak into your room.

If anyone hears you moan and cry, they’d just think you’re getting your brains fucked out. I’m sure it happens at little places like this all the time. Some couple gets lonely and decides they’ll fuck eachothers brains out in the safety of a closed environment.

A sign appeared on the road just a bit ahead, it read ‘beach grove motel’ sounded like a calm and quiet peaceful place to relax for the night, then you were on your feet again, traveling god knows where. A hum left his lips once more as his truck sputtered to a stop infront of the cozy little place, his eyes lingering on your body. He couldn’t just let you go, not this time. He’s let countless of little catches go when he couldn’t had them to himself. You grabbed your stuff and climbed out of the vehicle.

Your boots hit the ground below you as quickly moved towards the entrance of the motel. You didn’t dare turn to meet his threatening eyes, he was preying down upon you. He parked in a nearby forest, his eyes watching as you entered your room. He’d find a way into your room. Graves moved around the back of the motel, pressing up against the wall and staring at the window which lead into your bathroom.

You stood in your room, the bed was surprisingly comfortable, the room had a decent shower with warm water, maybe you’d take a shower! It was probably better after walking most of the day except for when that guy picked you up,, that fuckin freak. Your hands went to your belt, holding onto the buckle and undoing your belt, letting your pants drop to the floor below you as you step out of your boots. Now just standing in a shirt and your panties. Even if you tired to appear manly, you ended up in your panties and I bra when without your clothes. You slid your shirt and bra off, trailing into the bathroom and starting a warm shower.

Graves looked through the window, his eyes scanning over your naked body, the glass was tinted a weird way, then he saw you quickly leave the room. His head tilting with curiosity as he moved towards the front of the building. You were standing infront of a vending machine, a large shirt over your body and some panties which were barely poking out. It seemed to have jammed, you hit the machine with an annoyed grunt.

The man took this moment to step beside you, hitting the machines glass much harder. You jumped out of fear. His hand resting on the spot where he hit, your candy bar fell almost too perfectly down to the bottom. He smirked at you playfully, “guess we meet again hm?” He sung out tauntingly. Graves loved the way you stared at him, horrified.

He hummed out once more, “you look much better without those boyish clothes. But, any girl looks better in what they should actually be wearin’ don’t they?” He stepped forward, in repulsiveness you stepped back, sliding your hand into the vending machine and moving back towards your room.

“I’m gonna go call my boyfriend and shower. Thanks, for getting it out.” You didn’t have a boyfriend but you needed him to get off your ass, you disappeared back into your room, quickly shutting your door and locking it. You removed your shirt and panties and went back to your shower, the warm fog that collected in the room welcomed you, your nipples softening as you stepped into the warm water, the drops of the broiling water dripping down your chest, then to your stomach and between your thighs, a whine of sorrow leaving your lips as the steaming liquid met your cunt.

It went back to dripping down your long legs, a shiver of embarrassment leaving you as you let your body warm up underneath the heavenly shower, graves sat propped outside the window, his eyes never faltering from their place on you. He couldn’t wait any longer, the male propped the window open, sneaking into your room without alerting you. He was good at lowering himself down onto the tile of the bathroom, he quickly pulled out his knife, creeping closer to the shower with careful, plotted steps. He grunted underneath his breath. His hands wrapping around your face as he covers your mouth. You immediately freak out in protest.

He chuckled with an amused hum, you looked so pretty with panic on your face. Pulling you out of the shower and dragging you onto the bed, he wasn’t gentle in any way. All he could think about was claiming what he wanted, especially from a pretty little thing like you. Graves slammed you down upon the bed, listening to your frantic scream of pain, and fear. How your voice tore through the room’s silence.

“Don’t. Dont do that, cmon dear you don’t wanna end up with your throat slit do you? Or run out of the room and let everyone see what you’re ashamed of hm?” He taunted, seeing that look of failure in your eyes. He was right and you knew it. Graves knew you’d comply right up until he fucks you, he watched the fear in your eyes, the way you taunted him with that afraid look. He wanted to stare into your horrified eyes forever.

A tsk left his mouth as he shoved you down into the bed more, grabbing some duck tape and taping you to the headboard. He wanted to watch you squeal and cry. The blonde smiled, grabbing a piece of duck tape and covering your mouth with it. His eyes narrowed with enjoyment, “now that’s the pretty girl I’ve always wanted. You know pretty little things like yourself go missing all the time, and who comes looking? Nobody.” He taunted, cupping your face with his hand.

“You’d look better with some pretty lipstick you know? Most ladies do.” He rambled on, grabbing your face and some lipstick, smearing it over your tape covered lips. The red makeup staining the duck tape that firmly kept your mouth shut, you were lucky to have him at this point. It could have been some deranged man who wanted to murder you! Graves wrapped his rough hands around your neck. His hands knew no gentleness or love, no feeling of calmness or home. He wanted to strangle you right here and now but he couldn’t.

As much as your fear brought him pure ecstasy. He couldn’t apply more pressure, he just wanted to ruin you. Why was that? Why did he desire to use you but not kill you. He’s killed so much people before, he was used to slashing throats and leaving them in a ditch to die alone. How were you different.

Graves stared down at you frustrated, his hands loosened around your neck before ultimately letting go of your neck. Seeing the red marks that littered it, he removed his duster, throwing it to the side along with his hoodie and his shirt. He was built, muscles littering his body as you admired his chest, his stomach, his arms. You didn’t know any better in this moment, it was your deranged way of coping. Graves bit on his lip, sucking on it for a second and then shifting his attention back to you.

He undid his belt, letting his pants fall to his ankles and stepping out of them. His boxers clung around his bulge. He put his palm over it, rubbing himself through his boxers. He didn’t kill for pleasure, he killed because he didn’t know any better. All he could think of now was you and him, a little life he’d build with you, how he’d isolate you from everything and keep you as his wife.

Sure nobody would find you, nobody would ever understand him, or his ways. He’d cover every track about you and let your case grow cold.

Graves spread your legs apart, pulling down his navy blue boxers and stepping out of those, a smirk on his face as he watched yours grow in horror. His cock was massive! Not like you’ve ever taken one but from the porn you’ve seen, he was definitely above average. You swallowed the spit that was sitting in your mouth anxiously, watching as the blonde moved closer and closer, his hand wrapped over his tip as his eyes locked onto your heat. His frontal teeth digging into his lip as he got between your legs.

Frantic cries and sobs of concern leaving you as he moved closer and closer, preying down upon you. You were nothing but prey to him and it drove graves feral. His hands gripped your thighs and parted them without a second thought.

“Yknow im a sheriff darlin? I’m sure that’s quite the news to you. But you’re gonna be staying with me, maybe you’ll have my son. I’ll teach him to be just like his daddy hm? A monster of a child. Sounds real interestin don’t it. Darling.” He grabbed a blade from the bedside table that was probably older then you, how much condoms or drugs it’s seen must be a large number of them. How much families or men like graves have slept by it. Graves brushed the blade against your cheek, letting the curved tip cut into your plump skin as he pushed his tip against your cunt.

The cut man slammed his tip into you, feeling your gummy walls clamp and stretch around his cock. The deja vu hitting him as he’s always dreamed of this moment. Of making love to someone like yourself. Teaching you all you needed was him, he shoved deeper into you. Your screamish moans muffled from the grey tape that covered your pretty lips. The way your eyes shamefully rolled back in pain and pleasure. Your body ached like no other, all Philip could think of was the way you shook as he shoved his lengthy and girthy cock into you.

He felt so blessed to be the first one to deflower you. He loved how horrified you look, you couldn’t bark back in protest, all you could do was take his cock as you were supposed to. Like your bodies intended use was for. He wanted to pump you full of his cum and let you suffer the consequences.

He’d make you live with his fucking child, he’d make you stare at your baby and remember it’s a child of rape. It’s a child you never wanted, your body didn’t want it, yet it’ll feed and support the baby.

Graves rolled his hips aggressively, his cock throbbing in and out of your cunt, your velvet walls tightening around him as you involuntarily let him. Blood staining his throbbing cock. It twitched every time your cunt tried to adjust to his massive cock.

He panted like a fucking mutt his hands desperately grabbing at your hips and letting his finger nails dig into your soft fat. He didn’t stop himself from letting out all his anger out on you. Every once of frustration and lust he’s ever experienced made its way into the sex you were having, his cock bobbed in and out of you, you could feel every vein along his girth as he stared down at you.

You looked so overworked as he pounded into you, you shouldn’t have ever gotten in his truck. This wouldn’t have happened if you had stayed with the bus. But you thought you were too good, you weren’t though. If you were good enough you wouldn’t be getting raped, only dumb girls get raped. You couldn’t even consider yourself a man at this point. Not after all the beating down and after the rape, you were just a defenseless girl.

Graves hands squeezed at your boobs, his cock thrusting deeper into you, his blissful grunts filling your ears along with your own heartbeat. You felt like puking and it was so hard to even think. The air around you both was hot and unpleasant to breathe in. The blondes hips moved forward a few more times before his thrusts got sloppy, he breathed heavily before cumming directly into your cervix. Leaving his cock inside you to hopefully shove it deeper. He wanted to get you pregnant.

He wanted to force you to have his child. Graves grabbed your teary face, watching your puffy cheeks that were stained with tears, your sore and puffy cunt was neatly wrapped around his cock. Just how god intended it to be, the way you were supposed to be.

A year in the future.

Graves hand was on your thigh, a little boy sat in the backseat, kicking his legs and giggling. Graves smiled at you, leaning over at he kissing your cheek. “You know you’ll have to go back to the basement after this drive right? You’re only getting this because you gave me a strong and healthy boy.” His hand squeezed at the flesh on your thigh. The look on his face was the same one he met you with, just this time you were trapped. He’d take away your son if you ever tried to misbehave or leave. That was your fault though. You were the dumb girl who got raped, you could report him. But then again, you were the dumb little girl who was taken advantage of by the town sheriff. Who was definitely loved more than you were.

Lmk if I should make this into a series, regular posts should start back up again soon. I have been completely focused on this.

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pxlvrxs · 1 year

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CITY MOUSE, COUNTRY MOUSE walker, masters of horror

content warning(s); suggestive + dark content just to be safe!!!, kidnapping, implied murder (not reader tho), fem!reader and gendered anatomy, no smut, predator/prey dynamic, reader is nicknamed 'mouse' , written and edited in less than six hours

w/c; 2.2k

a/n; after making this post, i looked and there are hardly any fics for him. (s/o to the ppl who did write some, ily) hopefully the warren kole hype will give this ep more attention because i need more content. also, the entire time i wrote this all i could think abt was this edit. the brainrot is real.

It’d been two days. She could tell from the orange hues painting the horizon. The sun was dipping beneath the mountains for the second time since she’d been chained to the bed.

Her head pulsed with pain. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears, thumping. It could have been from dehydration – she hadn’t had a sip of water in at least two days – or from the hard hit to the head. Her hair was matted with congealed blood. The wound had stopped bleeding by now, but she definitely had a concussion.

The mattress springs dug into her spine. A cold draft blew in from the windows and door. Gooseflesh prickled up all over her body. The clothes she’d been wearing had been stripped from her while she was unconscious.

He left her a pair of cotton panties, a bra, and the long socks she’d worn beneath her boots. Her sweater and jeans sat on the chair across the room, neatly folded and stacked. Her boots sat next to the door. He was mocking her.

He’d left her mostly unscathed. Save for some bruises and the nasty gash on her head, she was fine. Now it was just a question of what would kill her first: The cold or the dehydration.

She’d given up screaming a day ago. The only response to her cries was the hoots of mourning doves and the rattle of a woodpecker. There was no one to hear her, no one to rescue her.

It would be a torturous way to die; succumbing to dehydration and starvation. If the adventure books she read as a kid were correct, only one more day before her body would start to shut down. More than three days without a sip of water was a death sentence.

She wondered if he was watching her from somewhere. Watching her fade in and out of consciousness, writhing as hunger pains shook her whole body.

She was unconscious when she heard boots on the rickety porch. There was the steady creak of footsteps on the rotting wood before the door swung open. Her eyes fluttered, head lolling to the side. He was back. He was going to kill her.

Oh, god, I’m gonna die.

Thank god, it’s over.

Her mind flipped like a coin, unsure whether to feel fear or relief. Her heart began to thump against her ribcage.

“Oh, c’mon,” He slapped her a few times, not enough to sting but enough for her to open her eyes. She let out a shuddering breath at the side of him. “There you are, mouse.”

He’d taken to calling her that. He never got her name, he didn’t give her the chance to tell him. He’d introduced himself as “Walker” as he ducked into her passenger seat. The second the door had shut, he slammed her face into the steering wheel.

“Naive little city mouse.” He called her as he dragged her from the driver’s seat. “You trust too easy, darlin’.”

“You look rough.” Walker pulled a flask from his waistband, shaking it. Inside, liquid sloshed about. Reflexively, she jerked toward it. Pain tore through her shoulders and wrists. The ropes were tied too tight around her wrists, twisting her joints as she tried to lean up. “Easy girl,” He laughed breathily, pulling his knife from its sheath.

She shrunk away at the sight of it. The edge of the blade was still crusted with blood from when he sliced through her temple. He set the flask on the bedside table, leaning over her.

He gripped both of her wrists in one large hand, pinning her. The knife tore through the rope binding her to the bed frame. He ripped the duct tape from her mouth, her whimpers died in her dry throat.

He pulled away from her, standing up straight. He remained there for a moment. He watched with an amused grin as she lowered her wrists from the bedframe and sat up straight. She curled into herself, hoping to preserve what little modesty she still had.

She didn’t look at him, instead focusing on the ache in her shoulders. Bringing her arms to her lap made her wince in pain. Her heart was still beating like a rabbit’s. She was too exhausted to act on her fight-or-flight impulses. Sitting up made her head spin.

He reached for the flask again, uncapping the lid. He held it toward her, a silent offering. There was a smear of blood along the side. She looked up at him with wide eyes, her pupils dilated with fear.

“Oh so now you don’t trust me,” He took a quick swig from the flask, making a show of him swallowing. “Look, safe.” That was the only confirmation she needed. When he pressed the flask to her lips, she took greedy gulps of water, throat clicking with each swallow. It was warm and tasted slightly of dirt. There was a lingering aftertaste of malt liquor. He’d emptied the contents and filled it with water from the creek.

“Really, mouse, you think I would go through the trouble of bringing you here, just to poison you?” She soon fell behind, the water filling her mouth quicker than she could swallow. Her lungs began to burn with the lack of oxygen. He kept tilting the flask higher and pulling her head back by her hair. “Drink up.” He urged her, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

Instinctively, she took a breath. Water filled her airway, burning. She jerked forward, coughing and sputtering as water spilled into her lap. He pulled the flask away, laughing. Water dripped from her nose and lips once the coughing fit subsided.

She took a shaky breath in, coughing once more. Her eyes brimmed with hot tears, but she refused to let them slide down her cheeks. Her bound hands gripped into her thighs in a futile attempt to stop her trembling.

Walker reached out, pulling the hair away from her face with unexpected tenderness. He dragged his finger down the cut next to her hairline, his touch featherlight. He lowered himself to get a better look at the wound. The gash had stained her face with streaks of browning blood and dampened the roots of her hair. It’d closed since he inflicted it, the edges glistening red with fresh blood.

Walker let out a low whistle, calloused fingers finding their way to her jaw. He twisted her head toward him, blue eyes boring into hers. His grip was bruising, threatening to mar the soft flesh of her cheeks. His hot breath fanned her cheek.

“Gotcha’ good, didn’t I, mouse?” Walker liked to admire his work, bragging about it even. He’d recounted his last kill as he tied her up in the trunk of her own car. The knots had been second nature to him, virtually muscle memory. His deft hands made quick work of tying her up, all while he watched her hazy expression. “Don’t worry, you’re still pretty,” He cooed mockingly, releasing his grip on her.

It wasn’t the first time he called her pretty. When she rolled down her window, he’d leaned in, asking what a pretty girl like her was doing traveling all alone. Then, the compliment made her face flush and smile. Now, it made her stomach churn and her skin crawl.

“Would it kill you to speak?” He asked, his irritation etched on his features. She shook her head. Walker cocked his head to the side, not needing to vocalize his demand for her to understand.

“No.” Her voice was weak from disuse and dehydration. Walker smiled again. He had a charming smile, even she couldn’t deny that. It was no wonder she’d unlocked the car door. Picking up a hitchhiker was the dumbest decision someone could make. Hitchhiking hadn’t been safe since the 70s, and even then, it was iffy.

“Good girl,” He mused, pulling his face away from hers. “So I was thinking, mouse,” He spoke casually — like she was a friend, not his prey. “I’m sure it’s been awfully boring in this cabin, all alone.”

Her stomach began to twist into knots.

“How about we make things exciting? Play a game?” Something told her he didn’t mean Scrabble.

He pulled her wrists toward him harshly, bringing the knife to the rope. The blade sawed through the rope with ease. It fell into a pile on the mattress, revealing the raw skin beneath. Walker dragged a finger over the red and bloody skin, ignoring her wince as he did.

“You run, I chase.” He said it so flippantly, like they were kids on a playground. “If you win, you can do whatever you want. Go to the cops, tell ‘em everything.”

He paused, licking his lips.

“If I win, I get to do whatever I want.” That sentence alone made fear grip her throat like a vice. “Whaddya say? Yes or no?” It wasn't a question of what she preferred, she knew that. There was a wrong answer.

She nodded and Walker let out a displeased groan. His hand shot up, wrapping around her throat. He didn’t apply enough pressure to cut off her breathing, just enough to get his message across.

“Words, mouse.”

“Yes,” She choked out, hand wrapping around his wrist in a weak attempt to free herself. He let go of her neck, standing to his full height.

“I’ll give you a five-minute head start, just to keep it fair.” His back was turned to her, his knife in hand. If, by some miracle, she collected her wits and strength, she could’ve taken him out at that moment. But she remained on the bed, unsure what to do. He looked over his shoulder expectantly. “Time’s ticking, mouse.”

That made her spring into action. She lunged for the clothing on the chair, hurriedly pulling the jeans and sweater over her body. She didn’t bother to lace up or tie her boots, just yanking them on and running through the open door. As she ran, she looked over her shoulder to ensure Walker hadn’t lied.

The leaves beneath her feet had been reduced to mush from the recent snow. The bitter cold made its way through her sweater, sending a shiver down her spine. She continued on her straight path until the cabin disappeared into the trees.

Going straight will make my path easy to follow. She stood still for a moment, looking in all directions. Her head start had surely run out by now. It wouldn’t be long before Walker was on her tail. She dashed to the right, hoping it would bring her to the edge of the woods.

The mud squelched under her boots and her heavy breaths fogged in front of her face. Night had fallen by now, shrouding the woods in thick, inky darkness. An owl hooted in the distance.

She ran in that one direction for a few minutes, weaving through the trees. Her bootlace caught on a stray branch, sending her tumbling to the ground. Mud splashed all over her clothes and coated her skin. She brought a sleeve up to wipe the dirt from her face to no avail.

Somewhere to her left, a branch cracked.

“I heard that, Mouse!” He was gaining on her. Fast.

She leaped up and continued running. Her chest burned and side stitch was beginning to set in. The adrenaline dulled the pain but didn’t completely end it. She took deep gasping breaths. Her malnourished body couldn’t keep this up forever. She needed to find the road, now.

The trees began to thin out, giving way to the pavement. She clambered up the bank on her hands and knees. Pushing herself to her feet was laborious, but she forced herself to do it.

“Help!” She shrieked. “Someone, please!” Down the road, headlights illuminated the treeline as a car approached the curve. She waved her arms above her head, ignoring the pain.

Before the light was cast on her, a body slammed into her right side. She fell to the ground, rolling down the bank. She cried out as her ankle twisted with a sickening crack. Even more mud smeared her face and she gasped for air. Briars tore shallow cuts through her skin and snagged her already-ruined sweater.

She landed on her stomach, face pressed into the wet leaves. Next to her, Walker lay face-up, in slight shock from the fall. The rumble of the car engine grew louder and the headlights grew brighter. Groaning, she dragged herself forward.

“Hel-” She was cut off with a calloused palm clapping over her mouth, the knife pressed against her throat. The knife traced over her pulse point. A warning.

With teary eyes, she watched the car roll past. Her only hope disappeared down the road, fading into the night. Once he was sure the car was out of earshot, Walker removed his hand from her mouth. He grabbed her shoulder, flipping her onto her back.

She weakly slapped him, yelling incoherently and flailing. He grabbed both wrists, pinning them to her chest. He moved to straddle her, thighs holding her in place.

“Please! Please don’t kill me!” She sobbed, thrashing in his hold. He laughed. A genuine laugh. It echoed through the desolate woods. His head tilted back and the corners of his eyes crinkled. He pressed even more of his weight onto her chest, keeping her pinned to the forest floor.

“Oh, who said anything about killing?”

#.pxlvrxs #im so normal about him #warren kole #walker warren kole #warren kole x reader #walker x reader #masters of horror #walker masters of horror #phillip graves #tw; dark content #phillip graves x reader #.my writing

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