Page 11 of Scream for Me

“Can we go? I desperately need to wash myself.”

He nods, turning to the source. “I was going to bring you to the spring near the hole, but you passed out so quickly, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

I urge my heart to stop swelling. It’s the least he can do after running me ragged, but I can’t help how I blush and hope that he doesn’t notice the hue in the dark. I remain quiet until we’re entering a small clearing and steps away from the stream.

Neon green moss illuminates the riverbanks. Clear water rushes over smooth stones. The scene is as tranquil and familiar as a river back home—much darker, but flickering lights provide an ethereal glow. “Are those lightning bugs?” I ask excitedly, pointing to the dancing creatures above the current.

He shrugs, placing me on the ground. “I call them burners, because they burn when they touch you.”

I yank back my hand, seconds away from touching the nearby insect. Then I remember that my hair burned him as well and decide to test his words. The burner lands on my finger, just like a lightning bug would, and surprise, surprise, it doesn’t burn. I turn to him, presenting my discovery, with a giddy smile.

He shakes his head. “It’s because you’re full of magic.”

Why is he being so goddamn sweet? I’m thankful for the cover of darkness and hope the little guy on my finger doesn’t reveal my heated cheeks. I turn toward the water, looking through the flowing translucent surface. “You should touch one. See if they stop hurting you like my hair did.” I lower my toe into the water, prepared to lose it if it isn’t safe for me. It’s better than blushing like a schoolgirl at my captor.

Scully giggles. Fucking giggles, and I whip around. Burners land all around him, and he smiles at one resting on his finger. “They tickle.”

I can’t help but laugh. It’s so preposterous. He’s a monster, my kidnapper, my assaulter, and he stands before me, giggling over twinkling bugs. My laughter turns into hysteria. I can’t control myself. I throw my head back, losing my balance and slipping on a wet rock near the edge. I splash into the water with a scream, tensing for scalding acid or needling water creatures to assault my skin, but after my initial fright—and of course, the start of arousal—my brain registers the sensation of the cool, refreshing water surrounding me. I’m ready to wade in it, already feeling a million times better, but Scully lunges after me, scooping me up in his monstrous arms and pulling me to his chest, his heart beating like a jackrabbit.

“My Marie, are you okay?” I stare up at him, shocked by the overpowering concern in his glowing eyes. My hands are against his chest, and my fear of falling in and now being pulled out so abruptly can’t be ignored. But I’m not afraid of him anymore.

His intense stare takes me in. He looks as if he would destroy the world to keep me safe, an expression I’ve only ever seen in movies, never in real life. I don’t want the moment to end. I’ve always only wanted to care for myself—independence—but now a hollow and empty part of me pangs. Perhaps I want to be protected, to be wanted so desperately that someone would rip a part of the world to get to me, rip apart another monster with his bare hands. Of course, I can rationalize that my scattered psyche as a parentless child growing up in a cold and unloving world could easily make his obsession look like something to be desired instead of feared. Still, maybe I can enjoy it for a moment. I have nothing better to do, and plus, it looks like I’m staying in this realm, whether I like it or not.

My lips nearly collide with his, without questioning how kissing would work around his fangs, but then he’s the one to ruin the moment. “Are you okay?” he asks again.

I startle, pulling back, remembering myself. “Yeah. I just fell in. Is it safe for me to be in here?”

“The only place in this world safe for you is hidden in my cave, especially when you scream, but the water won’t hurt you.” His ears twitch. “And I don’t hear any creatures nearby, so I think your scream went unnoticed.”

I nod, swallowing and looking away from his piercing eyes. “Okay, good.”

“Can I help you bathe?”

“What?”

“Your hair is very tangled. I can release some of the knots with my claws.”

I don’t want to argue. I don’t think I could find the words with my confusing thoughts, so instead I nod. “Okay.”

He sets me back down in the water, ripples lapping above my stomach. The cool stream flows calmly, sending my relaxed arms ahead of me. I straighten my legs and fall to my back, floating atop the surface as the water cascades around me. My large coat is entirely drenched, and I need to take it off to get completely clean. I didn’t mean to fall into the water, but I don’t mind that my only piece of clothing came in with me. It belongs to a dead man after all. It could probably use a little cleaning as well.

I sit up, stripping the heavy fabric off my body. I don’t have to turn to Scully to know he’s staring at me. Thank God I’m still wearing my leafy wrap-bra and underwear so I don’t feel even more vulnerable than I already do. I catch him at the corner of my eye, seated but nearly all of him above the water. He waits patiently, monstrous hands clasped in his lap. It makes me uneasy that he's so calm, so un-monster-like. At least when he was without consciousness, I knew what to expect; now I don’t know what side of him I’ll get. I wonder if the uncertainty is the cause of my pebbled nipples or if it’s the cool water. But of course, I know the answer.

I give the fabric a little rub before wringing it out and laying it over a large stone near the edge. We probably won’t stay here for long, so it won’t fully dry, but I’m taking it with me, sopping wet or not. Maybe my attempts to dry it won’t do much, but it’s the least I can do. My gaze snags Scully’s as I turn back to the water, taking my seat in the middle of the stream. I hate this godforsaken, spooky-ass forest, but right now, it isn’t so bad. Something hoots in the distance, almost like an owl, but with a metallic undertone. The glowing green moss provides a comfortable pocket of illumination. The fireflies, or burners, dance around us, their light reflecting off the water’s surface and making it sparkle. They match Scully’s eyes. I wonder if he realizes that.

I lay back again. He’ll run his claws through my hair soon, but I need to wash it off the best I can first. You’d think I’d have to explain this fact to him, but he remains still, patient as ever. I nearly scream again as the current increases and my leaf undergarments rip off my body. I cover my mouth, sitting up to hide my nakedness. It’s a stupid thing to do. He's seen more of me than my primary care physician, but it’s instinct, and once I catch his zeroed-in stare, and his mushroom-like cockhead bobbing out of the water, I’m even more embarrassed—and even more turned on.

We’re at a standstill, staring at each other, neither of us letting out a breath, but finally, he parts his lips. “Can I brush your hair now?”

I want to say no, because it’s clear his intentions to untangle my locks aren’t purely innocent, but God, do I want to say yes more than anything.

So I do.

He cracks the stillness like a twig as he wades forward. I turn around, presenting my backside, thankful—or am I—that the water covers my lower half. His breath heats my shoulder as he leans down to whisper in my ear. “Is this okay?” What is he, the consent king now?

I nod, taking in a hard gulp. He starts at the bottom of my hair, holding a strand with one hand and untangling it with the other so it doesn’t pull. He’s not pressed against me, something that initially disappoints me, but it's for the best. I do actually need my hair brushed if I want to not have to cut out impossible knots later on. It takes a while for him to get through the matting at the ends, hurting slightly, but nothing unbearable. Once his claws meet the base of my scalp, I moan, leaning back into him. Something bumps against my rear, and I squirm, thinking it’s a fish.

“Sorry,” he says, as if pained, pulling back slightly.