Return Of Nightmares
And now our next nightmare, and -- whoooo boy. Yeah, this one falls on the NSFW side -- I tried to keep most of it fairly vague, but I think it's pretty clear what's happening, particularly at the end with Bumby. Might have overdone it a bit on the creepy there. *shudder* This story did set up a lot of things that eventually transferred over into the canon proper with "Fixing You" -- Victor's poor reaction to the word "cocksucker," his problem with seeing sex as something only evil people do, his worry that if he wants to have sex with Alice that he's just like Bumby and maybe wanted what Bumby did to him, an idea of what some of Bumby's "training" included. . .and, of course, how Victor pictures Thirteen. Why do I write things that spook me, I swear. . . It's all in present tense because I originally wrote it as a starter for an RP thread. As you might imagine, the actual start was Victor waking up screaming.
They’re kissing on his bed when it happens – Alice’s hand slides between them and reaches between his legs. Victor starts and breaks away as her fingers brush the cloth above his – manhood. “What – Alice? What are you doing?”
Alice gives him a rather sly-looking smile. “Hoping you’ll have some fun with me.” She reaches for the area again.
Victor scoots back, staring. “Fun? Alice, you – I thought – I thought we’d w-wait,” he stammers, shocked. “Until we were m-married. I don’t think--”
“You think too much,” Alice tells him, moving closer. “We’re in love, Victor. This is what people in love do. And there’s no one I want to share this with except you.” She leans in and kisses him again. “What’s the harm, really? So long as we’re careful. . . .”
Victor keeps staring. Something’s not right about this. Alice doesn’t seem – herself. Wasn’t she always telling him that she wanted to wait as much as he did? And now she – “Alice? Are you all right?” he asks, moving slowly away.
“I’m fine,” she whispers, voice breathy. “I just want you.” She moves forward on all fours. “I want you inside me,” she continues seductively. “I want you to defile me.”
Okay, whatever is going on, Victor is sure of one thing – this is not Alice. He quickly escapes off the bed, frowning. “S-stay away from me,” he says, holding out a hand.
Not-Alice pouts. “Victor? What’s wrong?” She gets to her feet. “Don’t you want it?”
“No,” Victor says firmly.
Not-Alice smiles, and it’s definitely not an Alice smile. There’s something decidedly sharp-toothed about it. “I think you do,” she says, in what is probably intended to be a seductive tone. To Victor, however, it sounds decidedly creepy. “I think you’ve always wanted it.”
“Stop it!” Victor says, ignoring the sudden tremble in his voice. “Look, whoever you are – and don’t claim you’re Alice, I know you’re not – either l-leave me alone, or at l-least do this with your own face! Don’t drag her into it!”
Not-Alice keeps smiling. “All right then.” Her form suddenly shifts, growing taller and slimmer, clothes darkening and twisting. . . . “How’s this?”
Victor gapes. The person standing before him – is himself. Only his mouth is filled with sharp, needle-fine teeth, and black strings trail from his elbows, knees, ankles and wrists like he’s a puppet who’s broken free of his master, and – and he has no eyes, the sockets instead filled with and leaking a horrible black gunk – “W-who--” he squeaks out, backing up.
The other him grins and steps forward. “What’s the matter?” he asks, and his voice sounds so like and yet so unlike his own. “I thought you’d recognize your own reflection.”
“Y-you’re not me,” Victor manages to say, even though he’s started to shake.
“Oh yes I am,” the other him says, reaching out and gripping his shoulder with surprising strength. “I’m the part of you that’s honest with yourself, Thirteen.”
“My name’s Victor!”
“You don’t deserve a name. You know that.”
“Yes I do! Get away from me!” Victor tries to pull away, tries to escape, but he’s pinned right where he is by other him’s – Thirteen’s – arm. “Let me go!”
Thirteen’s response is to grab his other shoulder and shove him hard against the wall. “You wanted it, don’t deny it,” he says, grinning into Victor’s face. “You liked him ripping away your will, wiping your memories, making you his little fucktoy. . . .”
“I did not! S-stop it!” Victor tries to kick, but the strings lash out and bind his legs so he can’t move.
“Then why didn’t you fight back? Why did you let him do it?” Thirteen taunts.
“I did! I did fight back!”
“But it wasn’t enough, was it?” Thirteen releases one shoulder and brushes his fingers along the side of Victor’s face, his fingernails like claws. “No – you fell. You gave in. You let him take away everything that was bothering you and make you into his worthless little cocksucker.”
The word still inflames rage in him, but now Victor welcomes the anger, instead of feeling ashamed by it. “I AM NO ONE’S COCKSUCKER!” he screams, and punches Thirteen as hard as he can with his free arm.
To his shock, Thirteen laughs. “Aren’t you? Hit me again, I can take it,” he whispers, and it sounds practically obscene.
Victor’s too baffled and frightened and rather disgusted to try it. “Just l-leave me alone,” he says quietly. “I didn’t w-want it, I didn’t. . .”
“Liar,” Thirteen says, and suddenly yanks Victor towards him. Victor tries to struggle, to fight back, but suddenly it’s dark and he can’t see and there’s someone’s hand down his pants and they’re forcing their fingers into his NO NO GET THEM OUT GET THEM OUT
He can’t even fight back – he’s kneeling now, and he’s staring straight ahead and he can’t do anything else while he’s being violated ow ow stop please except whimper, and then there’s a rough voice in his ear – “You’ll have to take much more later, so you may as well save those sounds for when I can properly enjoy them.” There’s a sharp thrust that makes his body jerk, and he’d cry if he could only he doesn’t seem to be able to. “It’s only what you deserve. It’s all you’re good for – the only life you should know.” Then there’s a soft chuckle. “I’m still hoping to have Alice for pleasure and profit – her body would be the sweetest – but if I can’t get her. . .you’ll make a lovely consolation prize, Thirteen.”
Alice gives him a rather sly-looking smile. “Hoping you’ll have some fun with me.” She reaches for the area again.
Victor scoots back, staring. “Fun? Alice, you – I thought – I thought we’d w-wait,” he stammers, shocked. “Until we were m-married. I don’t think--”
“You think too much,” Alice tells him, moving closer. “We’re in love, Victor. This is what people in love do. And there’s no one I want to share this with except you.” She leans in and kisses him again. “What’s the harm, really? So long as we’re careful. . . .”
Victor keeps staring. Something’s not right about this. Alice doesn’t seem – herself. Wasn’t she always telling him that she wanted to wait as much as he did? And now she – “Alice? Are you all right?” he asks, moving slowly away.
“I’m fine,” she whispers, voice breathy. “I just want you.” She moves forward on all fours. “I want you inside me,” she continues seductively. “I want you to defile me.”
Okay, whatever is going on, Victor is sure of one thing – this is not Alice. He quickly escapes off the bed, frowning. “S-stay away from me,” he says, holding out a hand.
Not-Alice pouts. “Victor? What’s wrong?” She gets to her feet. “Don’t you want it?”
“No,” Victor says firmly.
Not-Alice smiles, and it’s definitely not an Alice smile. There’s something decidedly sharp-toothed about it. “I think you do,” she says, in what is probably intended to be a seductive tone. To Victor, however, it sounds decidedly creepy. “I think you’ve always wanted it.”
“Stop it!” Victor says, ignoring the sudden tremble in his voice. “Look, whoever you are – and don’t claim you’re Alice, I know you’re not – either l-leave me alone, or at l-least do this with your own face! Don’t drag her into it!”
Not-Alice keeps smiling. “All right then.” Her form suddenly shifts, growing taller and slimmer, clothes darkening and twisting. . . . “How’s this?”
Victor gapes. The person standing before him – is himself. Only his mouth is filled with sharp, needle-fine teeth, and black strings trail from his elbows, knees, ankles and wrists like he’s a puppet who’s broken free of his master, and – and he has no eyes, the sockets instead filled with and leaking a horrible black gunk – “W-who--” he squeaks out, backing up.
The other him grins and steps forward. “What’s the matter?” he asks, and his voice sounds so like and yet so unlike his own. “I thought you’d recognize your own reflection.”
“Y-you’re not me,” Victor manages to say, even though he’s started to shake.
“Oh yes I am,” the other him says, reaching out and gripping his shoulder with surprising strength. “I’m the part of you that’s honest with yourself, Thirteen.”
“My name’s Victor!”
“You don’t deserve a name. You know that.”
“Yes I do! Get away from me!” Victor tries to pull away, tries to escape, but he’s pinned right where he is by other him’s – Thirteen’s – arm. “Let me go!”
Thirteen’s response is to grab his other shoulder and shove him hard against the wall. “You wanted it, don’t deny it,” he says, grinning into Victor’s face. “You liked him ripping away your will, wiping your memories, making you his little fucktoy. . . .”
“I did not! S-stop it!” Victor tries to kick, but the strings lash out and bind his legs so he can’t move.
“Then why didn’t you fight back? Why did you let him do it?” Thirteen taunts.
“I did! I did fight back!”
“But it wasn’t enough, was it?” Thirteen releases one shoulder and brushes his fingers along the side of Victor’s face, his fingernails like claws. “No – you fell. You gave in. You let him take away everything that was bothering you and make you into his worthless little cocksucker.”
The word still inflames rage in him, but now Victor welcomes the anger, instead of feeling ashamed by it. “I AM NO ONE’S COCKSUCKER!” he screams, and punches Thirteen as hard as he can with his free arm.
To his shock, Thirteen laughs. “Aren’t you? Hit me again, I can take it,” he whispers, and it sounds practically obscene.
Victor’s too baffled and frightened and rather disgusted to try it. “Just l-leave me alone,” he says quietly. “I didn’t w-want it, I didn’t. . .”
“Liar,” Thirteen says, and suddenly yanks Victor towards him. Victor tries to struggle, to fight back, but suddenly it’s dark and he can’t see and there’s someone’s hand down his pants and they’re forcing their fingers into his NO NO GET THEM OUT GET THEM OUT
He can’t even fight back – he’s kneeling now, and he’s staring straight ahead and he can’t do anything else while he’s being violated ow ow stop please except whimper, and then there’s a rough voice in his ear – “You’ll have to take much more later, so you may as well save those sounds for when I can properly enjoy them.” There’s a sharp thrust that makes his body jerk, and he’d cry if he could only he doesn’t seem to be able to. “It’s only what you deserve. It’s all you’re good for – the only life you should know.” Then there’s a soft chuckle. “I’m still hoping to have Alice for pleasure and profit – her body would be the sweetest – but if I can’t get her. . .you’ll make a lovely consolation prize, Thirteen.”