AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Probably not. No. Not what you think is sense.”
“Stubborn girl,” he sighs. “That is part of why I love you.”
“Love me?” I laugh. “You don’t love me, Justice. You want to keep me. Love has the balls to let what it loves go. You’re just another greedy fucker with an obsessive attachment.”
Justice has the nerve to look hurt.
He’s really not going to like what happens next.
I tried making a simple escape once. That didn’t work. I can’t just run away from Justice. I have to incapacitate him. Fortunately, I didn’t just lie down in my prison bedroom and fall asleep without making preparations. I let him see me pick up the leg of a chair I removed earlier and hid under the baby blue bedspread.
“What do you think you’re going to do with that?” He smirks at me, both pairs of arms folded over his chest as if I am the most pathetic, yet amusing thing he has ever seen.
I do not wield it against him. Instead, I hold it like a backhanded spear and drive it into the very center of the television as hard as I can. The screen shatters and there is a bright flash of fire and light of the kind that stun-locks his moth brain.
That’s when I run, full speed, as hard and as fucking fast as I can. I have an unpleasant sensation of fullness in my midsection that prevents me from really getting up to speed, but I hope it’s enough. I just have to get out of….
“No, you don’t!”
Justice catches up with me just inside the lobby. I scream with outrage and despair as he grabs me up off my feet and begins chastising me immediately.
“That was a very bad idea,” he growls. “Destruction of property, an assault on my senses. You should know better than to behave that way.”
“Fuck off,” I curse at him. I am not sorry, and I refuse to pretend to be.
“I wanted to put you in a comfortable room and make this easy for you, but you don’t want comfort. You don’t respond to reason. You want pain and you want anger. You crave intensity. And so you shall have it.”
He yanks me up into his arms and carries me ever deeper. Behind all the cutesy 1950’s decor lurks a horde of overpowered creatures who have no purpose but for the one given to them by their creator. They want to be heroes, but the world is past heroes now.
“Justice, you’re acting crazy,” I say. I know it’s not going to help, but I feel justified saying it. “It’s not appropriate, at all. In fact, this is illegal. And when you do illegal things, you end up in trouble.”
I’m talking to him like he’s a bad little boy. It amuses me to do so, because I know whatever comes next won’t be good. Justice wants something from me. Actually, he wants everything from me.
* * *
The next room I find myself in maintains the curves and the sleek metalwork, but that is all. This is a cell, or a dungeon. It’s empty aside from a few places where chains can hook into the walls. It’s the sort of place made for keeping sentient things captive, a place for the breeding and breaking of monsters, and I suppose now, me.
“These cuffs are so cute,” he says, plucking them out of my pocket. I never go out without a pair of them, and now they’re being used on me, snapped around my wrists. He connects them to a chain, which is connected to the wall, all very businesslike and matter of fact. I notice he’s blinking a lot. That little explosion might have actually done some damage. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer abductor.
He begins to strip me. No more Mr Nice Mothman. He pulls my clothing off my body, cuts it where necessary. He makes me entirely naked, expecting it to have some effect on me, I imagine. He’s forgotten that he fucked me the second time we met, and it never made me the slightest bit more submissive to him.
“I knew you would not agree to this. I knew you would need convincing,” he mutters as he goes, almost talking to himself more than to me.
“See, a good guy, a hero, Justice, when he knows a woman won’t agree to something, he doesn’t go ahead and do it anyway. He respects her right to choose her own destiny. You’re not a hero. You’re just a creepy guy happy to keep a girl in the basement.”
He chuckles, unashamed. “There is only one thing I could do right now that would disappoint you,” he says. “And that would be let you go.”
“Try it. See what happens.”
“Not yet. You’re not ready yet.”
I sigh. “See. You’re the same as…”
“I am not the same,” he snaps. “You do not understand enough about the world, or the consequences of your actions. You think I can let you go, and you can return to your work an unchanged person. But you cannot.”
“Why not.”
“Because of what has taken place between your thighs. Because of the joining of our flesh, and the swelling of your interior.”
