Page 8 of Grave Possession

My left hand snaps out, grabbing a fistful of her hair, and yanking her back to her knees in front of me. She yelps in pain, and I shove my cock into her hot, wet mouth. Her jaw goes slack. “Suck,” I command, but she ignores me. I shake her roughly, “Fucking suck me, darlin’.” Still nothing. I glare down at her, her eyes have glazed over, empty and emotionless. No fear, no anger, no hatred…just vacant. We can’t have that. I drag the blade down her cheek, watching as the pain snaps her back to reality. A thin line of blood appears from the splitting of her skin, and I run my fingers through it.

“Bite me and I’ll slice off your nipples next.” I suck her blood off my fingertips as I begin to thrust in and out of her mouth. I can’t believe she’s here with me, that I was able to snatch her so easily. I knew keeping those cell phones would come in handy. Fuck, I’m a genius. Officer Graves doesn’t deserve Mallory, or the captain position he’s being trained for. His uncle is playing favourites and everyone knows it. That position should be mine, I’m the superior officer, even though I’m not treated as such.

My cock stiffens as I aggressively fuck her face, the blade leaving little nicks in her cheek with each thrust. I didn’t even realize I was doing it, but the result has me cumming down her throat. Her blood coats my groin as I shove her head down on my length, burying her nose in my pubes. She gurgles around me, cum spurting from the sides of her mouth as she tries to breathe around my dick. “Breathe through your nose and swallow me down, darlin’, then it will be over…for now."

Chapter Six

Mallory

“Breathe through your nose,” he says. I wish I could breathe through my fucking nose. But between the rancid taste of his cum, and the revolting smell emanating from his groin, I’m stuck between a rock and hard place. His head falls back as the shocks of orgasmic bliss shoot through him. I’m wondering if I can find the key to this fucking lock in his pockets while he’s distracted. I know I missed my opportunity this time, but next time… I hope I have the lucidity to at least try.

I have to fight the urge to wrench the knife from his grip and thrust it in and out of his femoral artery, the same way he thrust his pathetic boner in and out of my unwilling mouth. In my line of sight, it thumps beneath his skin like a taunt todo it, do it, do it. I watch the pulsing, completely entranced. I don’t even need the knife, I could kill him with my bare hands. Sink my teeth into his leg, and rip through the major highway of blood to his heart,watching it spill out onto the earth beneath me. I’d roll around in it like a pig in shit, revelling in my freedom.

I’m pulled from the fantasy by his praise. “Good girl,” he grumbles while wiping his cum from the sides of my mouth with his thumbs. “Clean up your mess,” he says before shoving his digits into my mouth. I hate being the victim, the easy target, the scared little girl who is easily overpowered. I read somewhere that biting off a finger is no harder than biting into a carrot, but our brains prevent us from doing it. The urge to try and bite this man’s thumbs off starts to work me over, but like an idiot, I hesitate. Grazing my teeth lightly over his flesh as he slides them in and out of my mouth.

It wouldn’t be too hard to lure my captor into a false sense of security. To make him believe I want him, that I enjoy the torture, the pain, all of it. It’s why he is so fascinated with me in the first place. He thinks I’m as fucked up as him, that we match. We don’t; I only want Ghost. The deviant parts of Nox that play well with my own demons. Lost in a memory with him brings a small smile to my face.

Crack.

My captor’s palm ricochets off my already throbbing cheek and I crumple to the floor from the force.

“What were you thinking about, darlin’?” he sneers. Don’t fucking open your mouth, Mallory. He will go after Nox because of your massive slip up. He shoves his flaccid, pathetic penis back into his pants and zips up.

“Tell me, or you can kiss your dinner goodbye.” Holding food over my head like a true fucking abuser. Ishould have chomped his finger like a vegetable when I had the chance.

“Just thinking about my life,” I reply flatly, holding my cold palm to my swollen cheek.

“Please, explain. We may as well get to know each other while you’re here.” I give him nothing, and it makes him fume. Sick pleasure swirls within me at pissing him off with something as simple as silence. I know I can handle whatever he has planned for me. There’s nothing he can do to me that hasn’t been done already. Before, when I lived with my parents, I was worried about being fucked against my will. Having my innocence ripped away from me, my body beaten, and my choice stolen from me. They can never take that from me now, I gave that piece of myself to Ghost. This man cannot rob me of it.

In a flash he composes himself, the police officer mask slipping easily into place. He gets down on one knee, levelling his face with mine. “It’s okay that you’re not ready to talk yet, darlin’, all we have is time.” His words are sickly sweet, but they hit their mark. I won’t be found or rescued. I wonder if he can see the blood drain from my face, because I feel it as panic threatens to take over. “You’re mine now. No one will find us this deep in the woods. Not even yourboyfriendknows where my cabin is.” He’s thought of everything, hasn’t he? How long has he been killing women before being discovered?

“I see them wheels turnin’ in your head. Ask what you want, but be prepared to give as much as you get.” He waits for my answer as he settles back into the wooden dining chair in the centre of the room. It has to be olderthan I am with its chipped paint, signs of wear and tear on its frame, and the creaking noise it makes when he sits in it. Weighing my options, I really have nothing to lose by playing twenty questions with this man, but I wonder how much knowledge I could gain on him by engaging. Could I use it to my advantage? Would I uncover some prized piece of information that gets him to see me as more than a play thing? If I personalize myself enough maybe he will ease up on the torture and abuse. I can only hope.

He’s watching me again with an unsettling amount of intensity; it makes my skin crawl. I’m about to unload some trauma with my kidnapper, and hope he does the same. I sift through the hours of true crime I’ve listened to, trying to think of a question worth asking, one that will kick him in the gut from the beginning. Another smile threatens to appear but I grit my teeth to contain it. I look the sadistic fuck right in the face as I ask, “How’s your relationship with your mother?”

I watch his face redden, that composed mask from before dropping and shattering into a million pieces before my very eyes.Stifle that smugness Mallory, it’s going to get you killed.I force my face to stay impassive, but inside I swell with malicious intent. It’s so evident, this pathetic shit stain has mommy issues. His desire to mutilate women makes even more sense now. If I were to bet, there are previous victims who resemble his mother until we crossed paths and the lines began to blur for him.

He charges at me, and I ignore my self preservation screaming at me to cower and protect myself. He wants my fight? He’s going to get it in any way I can dish it out.His hand shoots out, grabbing my throat beneath the collar. Violently, he choke slams me into the unforgiving dirt floor. The wind is knocked out of me upon impact, and I gasp for air.“Relax before you pass out, little siren.”Lennox’s soothing voice infiltrates my mind, willing the mounting anxiety to ebb away. My captors hands tighten around my throat. My lungs burn and lights dance in my vision. Part of me wants to pass out or die, putting an end to the miserable existence I call a life. Only for one fleeting moment did I think it could be good, worth living, that I could be happy.

“Fight. Fight for it. Fight for me. Fight for us.”His voice is a mantra I can barely hear but I run towards it nonetheless. I raise my knees and plant my boots in the dirt. Using what little energy I have left, I buck my hips. It throws my attacker off balance enough that I can push him off of me and heave in breaths of precious oxygen.

“Do us both a favour and don’t bring her up again,” he says from beside me. I risk a glance at him. He’s staring at the ceiling with a far away look in his eyes. I know that look. I have that look. He’s gone to some other place in his mind, either in a dissociative state or reliving a memory.

“Noted. I just thought it was something we would have in common,” I rasp out. My throat hurts so fucking much. I touch the side of my neck, and when I look at my fingers, there are traces of blood from him digging his nails into my skin.

“Why would you ever think that?” His voice is monotone and it may be the most unnerved I’ve been this whole time. The emotionless robot makes me morefearful than the monster driven by his sadistic sexual desires.

“Trauma recognizes trauma,” I state. He blinks, then turns his head to face me. Reality seeps back into him, bringing him back from wherever he went inside his own mind. “I hate my mother, and I wish I could kill her all over again. Herandfucking Dennis,” I snarl. It’s a large stretch of the truth since they are both considered missing, and I definitely didn’t kill them. But, the chance of them still being alive is almost non-existent and I’ve come to terms with that. I know they’ll never be coming back.

I’m taking a shot in the dark on whether he actually killed his mother or not, but his hatred for women has to stem from somewhere. If he did then we have common ground to forge a bond on, and if he didn’t commit matricide, well then maybe he will see me as superior. Hopefully it fosters his obsession with me and doesn’t make him resent me for doing what he couldn’t.

He examines me with his gaze, scrutinizing my story. Can he tell I’m lying? I hope that he wants so desperately for it to be true that he just relents and accepts my words as honest.

“Tell me how you did it.” I can see the intrigue overcome his face, he’s practically salivating at the idea of me committing double homicide.

Fuck. How did I do it? Better come up with something quick Mallory or he will snap on you again. In an effort to buy myself some time, I risk upsetting him again by saying, “You first.” His smile turns sour at my deflection, but my self-preservation finally takes over as I throw his words back in his face. “You said I have to give asmuch as I get, didn’t you? An equal exchange of information? If you want to know what I did to them, you’ll tell me what you did to her first.” I can already guess that he strangled her based on all the previous murders, but more possible information couldn’t hurt.

“I choked the life out of her with the same rope I used to fake her suicide.” I knew it. I lick my lips, playing into his fantasy that I like what he did. He tracks the movement like a bird of prey and I’m fucking disgusted with myself.

---