I wish I had time to write as I have scenes rattling around in my head that are a few chapters ahead of where the story is at right now. You’ll get your slasher/blood/Final-Girl-fights-back goodness soon (I hope!)

A CHECKERED FLAG AND BURNING IRON – Chapter Two (2.8k)

~ The tale of a Final Girl and life after her starring role, oh, and Gojo’s there too. But for how long will his hand be able to hold on to Her’s when shes forever changed from who he knew, and can he keep up?

~ A Final Girl/Slasher tale, College AU, Street Racer!Gojo X Outcast/Final Girl!Reader, slow burn

~ Warnings: Horror/Slasher movie themes and subjects, PTSD, mentions of sexual activity, non-con, kidnapping, bullying, blood, fighting/physical injury

~ Author’s Declaration: The concept of Street Racer! Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, and Ryomen Sukuna are borrowed with permission from Minouyujis (POST). Small amendment, in Chapter One, Suguru’s contact in Y/N’s phone was “Dumbass #1”, I have changed this to “Asshole #1”. I want to use “Dumbass” in a friendly way for someone else, and I feel this new contact name suits his behaviour in this part of the story better.

Chapter Two - (word count: 2,858)

The air was soft from the lingering light of the setting sun, soft pinks and blues of a pastel dream soon to fade into the dark embrace of blue and purple. It was an amazing sight. Leaning against the stone half wall, you took a few photos of the sky above to remember it by, and could hear Gojo’s favourite car coming up to you in the carpark outside your dorm. You continued to look up and enjoy the moment, as Gojo waited but a single moment to honk his horn at you. Even though you knew he would do this, it still startled you. You waved and made your way to the passenger side. You always liked to admire the midnight blue of this car, his beloved classic styled Mustang. A wide smile graced his face as you got in and hugged him. He pulled you into himself tight and peppered any inch of your skin he could get to with kisses.

Giggling like a school girl, you tapped his shoulder and cried your surrender if he stopped. “But why?! I’ve been oh so deprived of love today, and your face is just (kiss) so (kiss) cute!” He argued. But he relaxed and let you lean back enough to see him. Gifting him a light kiss on the lips, and a smile. “You find everything cute, and Hi, by the way. How was your day?”.

“Classes that take up too much of my time so I only stayed a short while, then had a nice peaceful day to enjoy a drive around town, had another interview, then spent time with Suguru before coming to pick up my Pumpkin”. Having dated Gojo longer than anyone before you, gave you a look at the Satoru not many others got to see. He loved racing for the thrill, but also slow drives to anywhere. This led him to be frequently late, but it was for good reason. Gojo saw the beauty and artistry of the world, a youthful sense of wonder he desperately clung to as his upbringing became more and more cold and distant over the years. That wonder of the world is something you two shared. One of the reasons you two could connect.

You’ve also seen the toll his family’s expectations took on him. The quiet and deafening stillness he would take behind closed doors when things got really bad. You would comfort him with just being physically there. He didn’t need words, just a soft touch and a reminder to not ignore his bodies basic needs (like meals and a shower). You’ve yet to see him cry from sorrow, but you’ve told him you would be there when he needs it. Tears during sappy moments of emotional kids’ movies, now that, you’ve seen a plenty of. Gojo is private with a select few emotions and thoughts, but was so open with such more.

After exiting the car park, he started a conversation again. “Don’t suppose you’ve thought about my offer again? I have part of my closet cleared out for you and everything. And I’m sure Shoko would enjoy having a girl to talk to for once”. You hadn’t given the offer he made a few days ago any thought yet, moving into his house that he shared with his two childhood friends, Suguru Geto and Shoko Ieiri. It was once his family home, but his parents moved to a pent house downtown to be closer to work, and let Gojo do as he pleased with it. So, he moved into the main bedroom, expanded the garage into the backyard, and has regular college parties.

“I’m… well… I still really like my dorm. Its cosy and been home for a while, you know?” you finished with a shrug and continued to look ahead. Even though you have stayed the night and been to his house many times, it was huge and being a frequent party house would make late night studies and assignments hell to try and finish. Gojo loved to try and pull you out of your shell and to loosen up and destress frequently, an extrovert adopting an introvert and all. That’s how he was though, he wanted people around him to be happy and have a good time. Even though he’s cocky and sarcastic as can be, he cared deeply. Again, something few others got to learn about him, except you did, and it’s one of the things that buried his spirit into your heart.

“Y/N, I have bathrooms bigger than you room. And after today, I…” A heavy sigh changed the atmosphere in the car, you know what he’s going to bring up again. “I just want to have you closer to keep an eye on you, make sure you’re safe and… here”. You tensed your hands a touch, trying to not clench your jaw at the thoughts to come across your mind again. “I had another interview today. I’ve told them everything, told them that those girls were just long-ago flings. I don’t want you alone”.

Flashes of news headlines, dorm and classroom meetings. Its cruel, but an honest truth to acknowledge that people go missing across the country on a regular basis. But over the past year, year and a half maybe, a steady increase of missing women from your college and a few neighbouring cities, has put people on edge. A good number of those missing women who were from your college had been Gojo’s past flings. The cops have very little to no leads to those missing women, the only connection shared, was Gojo. So, from time to time or when a local woman goes missing, he’s called into a police station and interviewed. The most recent missing case being seven days ago, and he’s been “interviewed” twice since.

You know he’s scared for your safety and frustrated with the unpleasant attention to him every time this has happened. The reminder during this ride helped make a quick decision for you. Sure, you’ve only been dating a few months, but otherwise, why not dive in and see how it goes? He did encourage you to be bolder.

Stopped at the traffic lights, you give him your answer, “Alright Toru, you win, but only because I want premium access to that glorious tub of yours”, you wiggle your fingers and exaggerate an accent for the word ‘glorious’ as you give him a smile. He looks to you with a thrilled grin, but lowers his glasses and turns into a smug look, oh no, where is that look going? “Sweetheart, you know its Gojo in the streets and Toru in the sheets. Should I take you home for a reminder?” he finishes with a wiggle of his eyebrows and dance of his shoulders, earning a laugh out of you. Turning away and covering your face as you cannot last against him when he gets such a mischievous look in his eyes. He’s won, and he’s going to annoy the shit out of you as a way to celebrate his victory. Lucky you.

But now unlucky you, Shoko has been nice to you the few times you’ve met her at a few of Gojo’s movie nights or the rare house party. She even helped you to the bathroom and held your hair at the last party you went to, as Gojo insisted you have ‘fun and let it all go’, which meant he (lovingly) teased and bullied you into so many shots and strong cocktails through the night you lost count. She made sure you made it to Gojo’s bed to pass out on and got Gojo to lock you in to keep you safe while he continued for a few more hours. But the one who would really bully you also lived under that roof. Gojo’s truly closest friend, his brother as Gojo put it, loved to remind you of your low social status in school. Looking down on your course choices and dress style. He would show off the girls he’d pull and remind you that Gojo deserves the girls he used to get in his playboy days. You did try to be nice to Geto and let his words pass, but he made it so hard to find a single nice thing about him. Acting polite and pleasant to you in Gojo’s presence even. Slimy bitch, you always thought.

It would be better overall though. You’d get to spend more time with Gojo and maybe grow closer to him. It was too early to tell but, a girl can daydream. The drive to the race location on the other side of town was quick as the conversation of planning the move too both you and Gojo’s focus that time passed before you realised you made it. A back area of an industrial area right up against the woods that turned into a national park of protected land. No one living close to make noise complaints. The arrival was always a sore part of the race night experience, Gojo found his best friend’s ride and parked up real close. They’d share their greetings while the track bunnies swooned at them from a distance, and shot daggers at you as soon as you got out of the car, and continued as you hung out next to them. Geto gave you a few verbal jabs that could be seen as friendly teasing, but you knew it was anything but that. The brunette hanging off of his arm thought his words were the funniest lines she’s ever heard. Yeah, she’s his type, easily star struck and submissive to his orders. When Gojo felt it was time for race prep, he took you by the hand to find another one of his friends. You were all too happy to leave Geto to his physical business with his new friend.

As relaxed about everything as Gojo was, there was one thing he was meticulous about, giving his ride a good look over before every race. His favourite mechanic was also a fan of the street races Gojo attended. So, in a stroke of genius, he started bringing one of his (unmarked) mobile service vans. You’ve met Choso at every race ever since you started joining Gojo out on these nights. He owned his own car repair shop in a nice end of town. Mostly servicing expensive SUVs and high-performance vehicles (like all of Gojo’s cars), but he also had a small fleet of mobile servicing vans that would focus on every day and family cars with regular servicing and emergencies. He told you once that it’s what helped keep his business alive when he took it over from his older brother. If you weren’t in the car with Gojo, you stuck with Choso and talked philosophy, or he’d gush about all the cool things his brothers were doing that made him proud. He was mostly proud of his youngest brother scoring a college scholarship through sports. You can’t remember the kid’s name, just that he’s in his second to last year of high school.

As soon as Gojo came up to the signature burgundy van, he let loose your hand to pound his flat palms hard on the van’s side like a drum as he sang Choso’s name coming up to the driver’s side from the back. A sudden voice, loud and strong came out the driver’s window along with a giant arm as hard as stone, you froze. “Hey! Don’t hit the van, kid!” the raven-haired man declared to Gojo. Wait, this isn’t Choso, this is one of his other mechanics. You’ve only seen him once or twice at Choso’s shop. The brute stepped out of the van and posed with strength in front of Gojo, arms crossed and a sneer across his scarred lips. You’d heard rumours that they guy was ex-military, or a soldier of some kind, somewhere, but that’s it. Only seen him working on other cars when Gojo brought you to the shop with him. Still, he gave off a strong energy that scared you a little. Gojo replies with a light laugh with his hands in his pockets, while you’re ready to nope your ass back to the car. Another strong voice pulls you three out of it. “Toji, I know you’re pent up, but the brat’s not worth your time. Rich bitches roll over too soon. Although, I’d love to see his girl roll over” licking his lips, Sukuna saunters over to you.

Why? Why did Gojo regularly race with and drink with this creep… Whereas you believed Geto could one day become a better person, Sukuna gave you no such feeling. Gojo was quick to stand by you and hold your waist as a way to show Sukuna that you’re His. Sukuna only harassed you because you were with Gojo, he had a habit of taking Gojo’s ‘Conquests’ and race wins. Now that Gojo is exclusive with you, all that energy is more focused onto just you. He’s built like a warrior god, he could get anyone he wants just as easy as Gojo and Geto, but no, he liked to take, ruin, and throw away. Guess that’s what kind of person you are when you’re a career MMA fighter.

With Gojo’s car given a look over by Toji, he was ready to go. Since you didn’t have Choso around to stay with, you hung to the back of the track bunnies, cheering for Gojo. A few overheard jabs from them about you being with Gojo was nothing new. They carried over such High School small-mindedness into their young adult lives, you’re amazed they somehow function in society. In between Gojo’s races would be the hardest parts of your nights out with Gojo. He likes to park to the sides and watch the other racers, and chat cars with anyone around. But the track bunnies swarmed him, and he loved the celebrity treatment. Flirting back with smiles, jokes, and their hands all over him. It used to break you and you’d sneak off and get a taxi home. Those nights would see you home to your dorms with tears in your eyes and text messages of apologises without apologises.

It took only a couple weeks for Gojo to learn real quick that he (briefly) lost you from soaking up that attention. He took you to his house for a quiet dinner together an several dozen roses to say a proper “sorry”. Now he will flirt less and push them back to get to you. Forever earning from them curses and rude remarks towards you, even right to Gojo’s face. He’d just smile and either tell them that if they don’t like seeing it, they should look away and find another man to try and leach off of. It would brighten you back up and forgive him quickly, even though the blame fully sits with them. Gojo’s strange habits on “eating” your hair and the edges of your clothing made you grateful that tonight was a smaller racing window than normal.

You would always feel eyes burning into your skin whenever you were at race nights. Comes with the territory, Gojo claims. With the reminder of the reason Gojo asked you to move in with him, tonight’s eyes felt a bit more noticeable. As if it burned your bones and not just your skin. You were just paranoid and worked up from the day. You were careful to not be out alone at night. Your worrying thoughts shaken off like a heavy blanket as Gojo drove up to you at the end of his last race.

“Hey there, cute lady, need a ride for home? Or can I offer you my first-class taxi services?” Gojo asked you with a repeated raise of his brows and a wink. Always the perv with a suggestive remark. You just rolled your eyes and climbed into the passenger seat. “Good Sir, I request to be taken to your finest late hour eatery, for I am famished!” you told him with a flourish. He gave a single laugh and joined in, “Why of course, my fair lady, I shall take you to the grrrrrrrr-eatest, most delightful, establishment these lands have to offerrrrrrr!”, he’s always so physical with his hands in moments like these, you’re surprised you haven’t been accidentally hit in the face.

A late-night fast-food run, brought back to his home for a quiet meal together, and you getting ready for bed with some toiletries you leave there for sudden sleep overs, and a few of his clothes for your PJs. You loved the smell and softness of his clothes, so you never bother with your spare night set that you have stashed in the bottom of his dresser. Gojo felt the winner when he saw you taking his clothes, to sleep in or wear out. It reassured him that you were his, and wanted to stick around. He’s never really told you this, but he fears for you leaving him. He recognised this feeling a few weeks into dating you. He didn’t grow up believing in strong and lasting bonds, but shortly before meeting you, he realised his tiredness from lonely nights of throw away girls who were too shallow for his real desires and wants. Seeing you curl up onto him with your head on his chest brings him peace and hope that he can heal and come out from things better

A CHECKERED FLAG AND BURNING IRON - Chapter One (2.1k)

~ The tale of a Final Girl and life after her starring role, oh, and Gojo’s there too. But for how long will his hand be able to hold on to Her’s when shes forever changed from who he knew, and can he keep up?

~ A Final Girl/Slasher tale, American College AU, Street Racer!Gojo X Outcast/Final Girl!Reader

~ Warnings: Horror/Slasher movie themes and subjects, PTSD, mentions of sexual activity, non-con, kidnapping, bullying, blood, fighting/physical injury

~ Author’s Declaration: The concept of Street Racer! Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, and Ryomen Sukuna are borrowed with permission from @minouyujisPOST . Also, I have never been to American college and never written horror, so, please forgive me if this is a bit “trope/movie” heavy. This is mostly me writing a love letter/write poetry to my love of horror movies and psychological elements of fiction. Yes, there is a romance plot in this… somewhere… I’m sure you’ll find it. I’m here to have fun and hope you join me on this journey, cause Spooky Season is all year round for me! (And many of the JJK characters ages are played around with to suit the story, I will try to reference their ages or School level/grade) . Slow burn for the first few chapters, please bare with me while I lay the foundations of this spooky house.

CHAPTER ONE – (word count: 2.1K)

You couldn’t stop the shaking of your limbs, your fingers ached as they gripped the foil sheet over your shoulders. Was it cold? Too hot? Your skin and what remains of your clothes are sticky and damp. Your vision blurry and sounds around both too loud and impossible to decipher. You couldn’t focus on the paramedic looking you over and trying to check your vitals and mental capability. All the faces around you twist and fade into beiges, tans, and browns. Blending into their own skins and the forest dark behind you all.

But what you could see clearly, what you could not tear you vision away from, was the part of the forest you came from. A tunnel of focus and burning inside your lungs. Still, it called back to you to return. The sharpness of adrenaline still pounding in your mind, your arms, your legs, and feet. Run. Run? Where?! It doesn’t matter! Just move! HE’s still out there! HE can see you! HE can catch you! You can’t rest! HE’s going to get you again and NEVER let you go! You know what happened to the others! Run away and…!

BANG, BANG, BANG! Shots from a gun, maybe more, echo and sing alongside the strong and fierce barks of dogs, shouting from men you can’t make out. All bringing you back down to a single point. Here, sitting in the back of an ambulance, you didn’t even notice being brought into the all too bright and white cage. The bed beneath you soft as the paramedic lays a hand ever so gently on your shoulder to encourage you back down into the bed. Eyes wide on their hand, but you followed. Still unsure of where you are and what is happening you let your body win. Burning muscles and aching bones crying out for rest, for stillness, for comfort. As you look up above you, tears you though you could no longer cry flow through. “It’s all over now, Kid, you’re okay” is the only thing you finally recognize before your mind gives into the demands of your body. You cry and gasp for air. You don’t know when you had fallen to slumber, but it wasn’t a slumber of your own. It was cold and bitter on your tongue, but you had to let it answer to the call of your body. You were no longer in HIS grasp. It’s safe now. It’s okay now. You’re safe now. You can go home now…

- Two Weeks Earlier -

Your eyes burned and begged for the sweet relief of moisture, your back and rear begged for anything but this seated position in the old thin chair, and your brain begged for death. If this assignment wasn’t going to be the death of you, you’d be surprised and by a lottery ticket. It’s May of your second year of college, you’ve recently turned 20, and there isn’t much of this semester left to go. But three more assignments stand in your way, including this one… If you have to look at one more damned article about how a Human Resources department works (or doesn’t work?), you’re going to go insane. You’ve written more today than you expected to, you had a short class earlier that day about Marketing in the digital age, and nothing social planned for the daytime.

So, you opened your window, put on a lo-fi playlist for studying (You know the one, dear Reader), and forgot about your cup of tea hours ago. At least your sugary iced coffee wasn’t forgotten and it watched you work so hard on your assignment, from its corner on the desk. Second hand, scratches and chipped clear coat. You always kept saying you would sand it and recoat it, promised it even, as this desk has become your solo dorm room’s staple resident (along with your bed, of course). For study, gaming, drawing, crying, dining, painting, make-up application on rare occasions, and a piece of home. Your family home was an hour’s drive away, just far enough from the college city of your state to be safe from too many stressed out, hormone fueled, caffeine addicted young “adults”. But it was still a big enough city to have plenty of opportunity for you, if you chose to settle there one day.

But you had a goal with your childhood friend, Kokichi Muta (You knew his nickname and gamertag most: Mechamaru). He was a tech prodigy, with dreams to join the likes of Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, and Elon Musk. He craved discovery and development, and he was damn good at it. But such things take time and money. So, with extensive research over the past couple of years from his tech internship right out of High School, he decided the best steps to build up, would be to grow within a successful company, and then start his own cyber security business. This would, hopefully, lay the foundation for a bigger business that would allow him to then grow and pay for what he really craved, research and development of the next big tech break throughs.

You two had always been the odd ones out, which is why you stuck together. You’d seen him grow and build the most amazing things. The two of you working together to win robotics competitions, with him designing and building, and you offering odd points of view that lead him to great inspirations. Which is why he let you do the talking, promoting, scouting for said competitions and contests, and what colours to decorate his creations with. Even though he always hated your design choices. Your argument was to help stand out and adding to the performance. Maybe that’s why your contact name (and emoji) in all his gear is “Clown”. All with love of course. The recognition and success in your team up lead to you both receiving scholarships. Him more than you. So far, he had yet to claim his prize. Stating his impatience for such “useless, wasted time”. He dove in head first, while you weren’t sure where to go. You took up a good job at an electronics retailer for a few years to find yourself out a little. When Kokichi finally had a dream and plans, and asked you to once again be his voice and right-hand man, you got right into it.

You knew learning Business Administration would not suit your style, but it was a goal when you didn’t have one. And your parents agreed that if Kokichi didn’t quite make it like you two were planning, it was a financially wise career path. Ew. But it made them happy so they would support you and Kokichi promised he’d let you dress however you wanted, and would build you up to have minions to dress proper and do your dark bidding for you, unless there was an important business meeting with normal (read: boring, old, rude) business men that you would have to attend. All this came back to your mind as you were leaning back in your chair and looking at the photo on the wall of you two from one of your high school science fair wins.

A startling chime to your left brought you back down from the clouds and back into that old worn chair. Its contact name of “Dumbass #1” brought a frown to your mouth.

“What do you want, asshole?” you asked to your room. You didn’t want to read the text, but your Mom was always a “It could be important” kind of person and it rubbed off on you.

‘Asshole #1: Hey, ding-dong, try to look nice for once tonight’

You still don’t know how Suguru Geto got your number, you boyfriend swears it wasn’t him, said he wanted you all to himself. For someone who has declared his apparent ‘love’ for you, Satoru Gojo was blind to the way his friends talked to you. Then again, you’ve always hesitated to show him the text messages, fearful it might make you look like a nagging and whiney girlfriend. Hell, it blows your mind how you two are even together.

Satoru Gojo, Junior year of Business Management, courses designed for future CEOs. His family came from old money in finance and big bank business and he was expected to follow the family tradition. He only agreed to finally go to college and follow his Father’s expectations when he was threatened to be cut off. Only a couple of years older than you, but quite the handful of a man child. How he passed with his lack of focus to his education and focus on his number one hobby, you’ll never know.

Ah yes, His first love, cars. Fast cars. Street racing kept him sane and was his only spiritual calling. His garage was filled with five high end machines. Lovingly cared for and somehow, never taken of caught by the cops. You know he’s doing shady shit to keep out of trouble, while also committing trouble. Not a circus you want to get involved in, he can have that to himself.

You’re not sure why he took notice of you late last year, or why he pursued you. You kept to yourself and a select few, didn’t stand out too much, kept tidy, didn’t both much with too many parties or got involved in gossip. You were polite and kind to your class mates, and no one particularly disliked you. You were a bit of a background/filler character. And that suited you, helped keep you focused and relaxed, stress causes early wrinkles and high blood pressure. You’d rather keep those things for your 40’s. Maybe that’s why he took interest. He claims you’re pretty, calm, and keep up with his humour and childish ways. Things he liked about you. But he also uses you to fuel his need for affection and attention too. Stern and cold upbringing and all. So far, you’re the longest relationship he’s ever had. You rejected his advances and requests for a date three times before you gave him a shot. You knew he was a playboy before meeting him. A few classmates would swoon between classes if they passed him, and sing his praises from time to time. Usual popular King of school things you did not want to mess with.

Mind you, he’ll still flirt and ogle at women, and quietly at some men, even when you’re with him. He’ll turn to you like its nothing and demand your focus. You hated it at first, but now it’s just like a mild burn to your pride and self-confidence. From time to time, behind closed doors, he’ll apologise lightly. But it’s better than when you first met him. Early on you were shy to voice your concerns, but you too got better with putting your foot down. In public, he’ll keep his hand on your back, or waist, or in your hand. He’s given quite a bit of lip to those who have tried to get your attention when you’re out. But that little bit of possessiveness helps reassure yourself that he really does only want you. And here you are, after sorting out a light dinner for yourself you returned to your dorm to get ready for a long night out. You had early classes the next day and wanted to sleep, but Gojo was racing tonight and would frequently drag you with him. Dressing up like Gojo’s usual (previous) type of girl was not your thing. Clubbing girls and racing groupies are not your kind of friends or circles.

You’d at least wear a pair of short black heals, and that slimming biker style jacket Gojo bought you the other month. Gave yourself a bit of a Sandy from ‘Grease’ vibes… Oh gawd, you just realised how close you and Gojo are to Danny and Sandy from ‘Grease’. You don’t know if you should laugh or cry in embarrassment. Another chime from your phone, followed by two more in rapid succession, you know only two people who text in fast short bursts.

‘The Boi: Pumpkin! My Sweetheart!!! : D’

‘The Boi: Your shining Prince arrives soon for his fair maiden!!’

‘The Boi: I missed you and I expect kisses TODAY WAS TOO HARD! I HATE NUMBERS’

‘The Boi: Pumpkin? Where are my replies of your never-ending love for me?’

‘You: You better not text and drive, idiot. You can get your attention when you show up <3 I did miss you too’

Another night of racing is going to be killer on your stomach and nervous system, but it was something special he didn’t share with many others. He may have had quite a few women in his car before you, but you’ve been in ALL of his cars and even have driven a few. A light amount of make-up to compliment your eyes, and a deep breath to brace yourself for the bullshit of Gojo’s jealous fan-girls and rude ‘Friends’. Another night in your slice of college life

A CHECKERED FLAG AND BURNING IRON – Chapter 6 (2.4k)

~ The tale of a Final Girl and life after her starring role, oh, and Gojo’s there too. But for how long will his hand be able to hold on to Her’s when she’s forever changed from who he knew, and can he keep up?

~ A Final Girl/Slasher tale, College AU, Street Racer!Gojo X Outcast/Final Girl!Reader, slow burn

~ Warnings: Minors DNI, Horror/Slasher movie themes and subjects, PTSD, mentions of sexual activity, non-con, kidnapping, bullying, blood, fighting/physical injury

You awaken to your dim enclosure. Stiff and sore from the previous night’s beating and your poor sleeping position. You try to slowly and carefully stretch yourself out. You and still move your legs fine, pulling up your pants reveals just a large and dark bruise from where your shin was kicked. You’re glad you can’t really see your sides, but you can sure as hell feel them throbbing with every breath and movement of your body. You left hand wrist is in back shape, but you don’t think it’s enough to be broken. This day is spent a much like the day before. But you’re able to calm yourself a little more. Most likely to your acceptance to your capture. You mull over Toji’s words from the night before and revisit what you’ve learned. He’s a hunter who’s bored of hunting animals and has turned to kidnapping and torturing girls. His main reason for catching you is for being Satoru’s girlfriend. But why would that really have much to do with anything? Because he believes Satoru to be important? He thinks you’ll be something more for him to hunt. Could he be one of those sick-o’s who will torture you, then set you loose in the woods before he takes you out?

As the day comes to light the room and warm it up, the smell of the bag of wet dog food sickens you. You at least finally remember the bottle of water Toji tossed you when you first woke up. Wait, its blurry but you start to remember a little bit. Enough to know that you live with Satoru now. You were at his house when you were taken. How far away were you now? How far were you from help? You tried screaming out a few times but quickly gave up. Toji doesn’t want you found, so why would you be anywhere near help who could hear you? He’s a hunter, right? You’ll be far into the woods and only scare off what few wildlife would be around. Your stomach growling isn’t enough to bring you to eat. But the part of your mind that has you thinking about Toji, about studying the room, thinking about living tells you to still eat the food. You’re starting to think you’re going crazy already. You’re chained to the damn wall and in hand cuffs. How the hell would you get out of here? You’ve been kidnapped and you’re going to die while being beaten by a nut case.

You head starts spinning and aching. You finish off the bottle of water and kick the bag of dog food away from you, as if it will get the smell away enough for it to stop filling your nose. You lay down on the ground, facing the chair and focusing on all the little details of it as a way to pass the time and to try and calm your mind. Another pointless task. Every once in a while, you remind yourself that it’s all stupid, to try and hope and look for freedom when you know you’re going to perish here. The pile of dirt and leaves in the corner of the floor behind the chair draws your eye next. As you come in and out of sleep, the afternoon sun tilts through the window just enough to angle the light. You see there’s a shimmer from the corner of something in the pile. You can’t see much of it, but give up on caring. You’re going to die like this, right? What does it matter.

Toji arrives that evening, his thudding boots wake you but you don’t bother to move. As you look up to him, you see another wet bag in his hand. He doesn’t seem pleased with the scene of you laying still and the previous bag far from you. He approaches with a sigh. “Oh, again with a lack of greeting for your master? You must really be a loyal dog to be so sad like that!” a quick kick to your gut brings you back to your mind. As if you’d been floating and only witnessing it all through a hazy lens. No, YOU are the one here. That’s the taste of iron and acid in your mouth as you try to breath and cough. The kick wasn’t as strong as the ones to your ribs last night, but it still hurts.

He drops the new bag in front of your face and tosses the previous one out the small window. He paces around you as you still try to steady yourself from the pain in your stomach. If you had eaten last night, you surely would have lost it now. You can only heave a little bit of bile. “Looks like the Gojo bitch has been spoiled too! I get you the good stuff and you turn your nose at it? Tsk. Well fine. Tonight, I’m spoiling you with something a bit fresher!” He leans against the wall under the window, nodding his head and gesturing his hand to the bag. You behave and use what little strength of mind you have to open it. Another bottle of water, and a chunk of raw, red meat. Its lean, but with long lines. You’re not sure its beef, but are too stunned to move again. It smells of iron, but not much of anything else. It’s a step up from the dog food at least.

Toji must have been annoyed by your lack of movement, as he takes a long stride over to you. He grabs under your jar with a single hand and pulls you up a bit. You make small sounds of discomfort and shock. His other hand grabs the piece of meat and shoves it into your mouth. It doesn’t make its way far into your mouth, but it’s enough to gag you a bit and silence you. He’s making a point. “You should be grateful to your master, stupid bitch!” he slaps your face twice while keeping your jaw gripped tight. Your sounds muffled but tears you can’t hold back make their way out. He throws your face to the ground and pushes his heal to the side of your face. He’s barely applying pressure, but he wants to keep you still. “What do you say to master? Ha? What do you say?!” he shouts at you. You close your eyes and cry. Muffling out a few words out of fear, which turns to sobbing. He hasn’t hit you as hard as before, but his energy and anger in his voice terrifies you. He steps away with a grunt, leaving you crying on the floor with the meat in your mouth.

“You better start learning some manners, mutt. Or I won’t be so nice next time.” He’s grabbing something from outside the door. You’re sobbing still and are shocked when you feel something hard hit your legs. You open your eyes to see another bottle of water. He stares at you a little more before his parting words regain your focus. “Enjoy your dinner now, you’re not getting any tomorrow, bitch”. He slams the door and rushes up the stairs. His mood tonight was different. There was hurry in him, and more aggression in his eyes. You pull the meat out of your mouth when you hear the door upstairs slam shut. Still crying and in shock, you place it on the bag and cry again. You’re unable to sleep, and are so hungry. You give into that part of your mind that takes over. This weak but fighting part of your mind that believes in you living though this somehow. It takes over and eats the raw meat. It’s some kind of game meat, very lean and a thick chunk. A piece of deer, maybe? It’s not pork, or beef, thank god. You remember that one of Shoko’s gross “facts” was that human meat would be akin to pork and veal. This was game meat, so you were sure Toji wasn’t trying to turn you feral with human flesh. But at this point though, you wouldn’t put it past him.

You stayed up late that night, slowly drinking water and sitting upright and still as to not agitate your wounds. As you found yourself zoning out to the grain pattern of the door, you slowly felt your mind shift into something new before sleep took you. You can’t go out like this, surely you can’t allow it, right?

…

The dawn of the new day greats your tired eyes and weary bones again. You don’t move much or think much for most of the day either. You just let yourself half nap until the early afternoon. You decide to stretch a bit by slowly standing up, your legs are stiff and wood. You let your body move itself through warm up exercises. Well, as much as you can manage. You put the pointless idea of stretching down to finally losing your mind, but also, trying desperately to hold on to hope. Closing your eyes and thinking of being at home, first with Satoru, then back to your teenage years at home with your parents. Your Dad loved martial arts and being active. He’d wake you up early and insist on a stretch and teaching you some self-defence. You huff at the memories, a lot of good that would do you now. You still kept up with being a bit active and practicing what your Dad taught you through college. The physical activity, even if just a bit at the end of the day helped you sleep and kept you healthy. What a strange thing to reflect back on.

As you sat back down on the floor, the chain from the collar dug into you back and a bit under you. You carefully adjusted yourself and brought it to the front of you. As you brought it through your hands, the feeling and touch comforting you, you stop your thumb over a rough patch on the inside of one of the links. It’s in enough position for you to look at it better. Turning the link over, you see something that stirs hope in the small part of you that’s been fighting to surface through the despair of your heart and mind. Your eyes see the inside of the link more worn and rusted than the other parts The thinned-out metal also is on the side of the chain where you can see the join. The part where the metal stick’s ends were brought together into a bend to link it all. It’s scratched on the inside. Someone, or many even, before you have seen this too, and tried to ware it down more. Something feint in the back of your heart flickered like a wake flame of a candle.

You gave it a tug, but nothing budged and you didn’t see the link move or bend at all. Pointless really, you’re going to die down here, remember? You could at least rely on Toji to be honest with you, tonight he didn’t come. At some point in the night, your tug-of-war heart brought you to a weak sleep again.

…

The dim light of sunrise and sound of birds brought you back from sleep again. Your body dare not move as your soreness and weakness was all too heavy. You simply closed your eyes again and tried to settle back down. Anything was useless and nothing mattered anymore. A few hours into the morning had you shake slightly before drifting off to sleep. The caw of a few crows at the basement window, and sound of feint thunder a fitting addition to your final days. You could almost enjoy the poetry of it, if it weren’t so hard to think. You gave up on thinking at this point. Allowing yourself to shelter your breaking mind you the back of your soul. You slowly sat up and simply stared at the crows picking at the discarded dog food. You weren’t sure what was happening in your mind, or if you were even thinking at this point. But, after what felt like hours of watching the crows bicker and feed, they flew off as a high crack of thunder shook even you. The sky had greyed and droplets slowly gained a rhythm on the roof and against the side of the building above you. It was a little while after, with the strike of lightning near enough to you, lighting up the room and the thunder shaking everything in a rattle that something in you had awakened.

This is NOT your coffin. This is not where Toji adds another notch to his belt. This is not where you want to be. YOU ARE NOT DYING HERE.

You make your way to your feet, facing the wall that your chain attaches to. You find the weak link, and focus your mind on it. The chain is a touch too long for you to use a leg standing up for leverage. So, you take a risk. You walk your legs up the wall and lean back. The burning in your ribs is distracting you, but you have to push on. The angle of the chain and your legs has you awkwardly floating off the ground. The collar cuts into your neck enough to shoot pain through your tired and beaten body. Your legs fall at a weird angle that shoots a spark of pain through them. Just enough to stun you a little. You’re determined to try again. This time, you roll up your shirt enough to stuff it mostly behind your neck and a bit in the front. You raise your feet to the wall again and push. You wrap your hands as best you can just in front of you and the weak link.

When your muscles, joints, and sprained wrist burn too much from the stress, you lower your legs back down and collapse. Pulling your shirt back down slowly and as much as you can, you still and try to steady your breathing. Your heart is racing and your body a flame. You will yourself to look at the chain and its weak link. A smile makes its way across your face subconsciously, the weak link has split open slightly. Not enough for the links to come through, but it is an amazing next step of progress. You are going to get yourself out of here.

A CHECKERED FLAG AND BURNING IRON – Chapter 5 (2.5k)

~ The tale of a Final Girl and life after her starring role, oh, and Gojo’s there too. But for how long will his hand be able to hold on to Her’s when she’s forever changed from who he knew, and can he keep up?

~ A Final Girl/Slasher tale, College AU, Street Racer!Gojo X Outcast/Final Girl!Reader, slow burn

~ Warnings: Minors DNI, Horror/Slasher movie themes and subjects, PTSD, mentions of sexual activity, non-con, kidnapping, bullying, blood, fighting/physical injury

“Hello, Sweetheart…” he hummed to you. Your vision still blurred, and a shadow covered the face of the man before you. A bare bulb hanging behind him from the ceiling in the small concrete room. You blinked rapidly as your spirit and focus slowly came to you just enough to recognise him. Short but messy hair dark as the night sky, almond shaped eyes like that of an apex cat, green with a darkness behind them as if looking up in a thick forest canopy, chapped lips with a small scar covering the right of them… His hand firmly grabs your chin up to get a better look at you. The faint smell of motor grease shocks your mind to his name. You’ve only seen him a handful of times, but that gaze is one that’s always unnerved you. Toji. That’s the only word in your fogged mind. The stress, fear, and uncertainty clouding anything else. Your silence and fearful stare lingers too long for the imposing man. “Oi, oi, hey? don’t be goin’ shy on me now!” His grip on your chin loosens at the same time that his other open hand meets your cheek.

You can’t help the gasp that leaves your lungs at the sharp movement, and the stinging of your face wakes you up to become fully aware of yourself. A collar just loose enough to breathe around your neck, handcuffs around your wrists, feet left unbound but weak on the floor in front of you, but on either side of the captor crouched in front of you. He has you upright, sitting on the floor with your back against the wall. But your eyes quickly make their way back to his face as he huffs. A pout on his face turns back into that eerie smirk on his face. “There she is!” he stands and holds his hands out. A proud position over his prey. Trying to find he words but still struck with fear, she stutters. “Wha…? Where am…? You…”. His hands drop and a fake but teasing pout returns to his scarred lips. “Aw, sweetheart, don’t be so nervous, and after I took such good care of you”.

He steps away to a chair in the corner for a bottle of water and rolls it to you. You’re still stunned and staring blankly at him as the bottle makes its way between your legs. You don’t really notice it, but finally the fog clears just enough for you to speak. It comes out in a dry pitch, “Where am I? What do you want with me?!” He chuckles as he sits and observes you. You don’t resist the shaking fear in your upper body, nor the tears that form at the edges of your eyes. He leans forward, holding up his hand that rests on his leg, as his other arm hangs loose. He just stares for a few moments, taking you in. That smirk on his face starts to unsettle you more and more, twisting your stomach into a knot. The light has slowly been increasing, but all you could focus on is how the angle of this new light makes his eyes take on a new brightness. To your fear and adrenaline riddled mind it makes his eyes look demonic. A glowing green rising from his wicked soul that you’re sure will drag you down into his hell.

He suddenly rises with a push onto his upper legs and a dramatic grunt. Sauntering a few steps over to you with so much to say. He wants to tell you so much, but he picks only a few vague words for now. “You don’t need to worry about that right now, sweetheart. I’ve got to leave for work now, but I’ll be back before you know it. You slept in a bit more than I was hoping for. Have a good day, sweetheart, I’ll be home for dinner!” He turns and leaves your stunned form behind, its only with the soft sound of a second door closing in the space above you that you’re brought a bit back to your senses. You’ve been kidnapped. Holy shit, you’ve been kidnapped. From where? Where were you last? You’re in thin lounge pants, no bra, no shoes, a big shirt, wait, it’s one of Satoru’s shirts. You can still smell him from it. Wait, where did you see him last? You frantically try to recall what you last remember before being taken. But you’re met with flashes of everything else before the night it happened. Even the events of that day are blurred and out of your mind’s reach.

All you can recall is Satoru’s laugh as he pats your head. When was that? Just before you woke up here? You don’t know when it was, but you now notice more of the room around you. A bare bulb that’s turned off, hanging from the ceiling near the door across from you. The door is a few meters away from you. The floor is rough concrete covered in dirt, sand, random twigs and leaf litter. The walls are concrete too. There is a chair in the corner to your left, close to the door. On your right, you see light coming in. A narrow window missing glass at the top of the wall. You’re in a basement. The only window just reaches above the grass. Weeds along the outside of the window are slowly growing into your concrete cage. The window is far too narrow for you to fit through if you tried to crawl out. You slowly notice the brown edges of the broken glass around the window. It trails slightly down the wall too. Your eyes then pull to the brownish stains on the floor. You don’t allow yourself to think about what it is. But you have a firm idea that claws at the shut door of that thought, trying to surface

It takes you what seems like a couple of hours to realize all of this. There is the gentle sound of wind and occasional birds outside that contrast the hell surrounding you. The realization brings you back out of your calm study of the room, and into crushing anxiety. You breathing becomes heavy and loud. Your arms and legs shake. You let your tears fill your eyes.

You pull at the collar around your neck, leaning forward to try and move away. You only crawl a short way before you feel it jerk you back and choke you. There’s a dulled and well used chain connecting you to a ring in the wall. This isn’t normal. This isn’t something that would be in a basement. It was made with a purpose. The padlock that holds the chain to your collar shakes and rattles. Your hands find the lock and feel how it keeps the metal collar latched shut while also holding you to the chain. You try to huff out a distressing cry, but your voice is strained from stress and hopelessness. You thrash and cry until you are weak and curled up into yourself. You finally return to a bit of mental clarity when the sun slowly makes its way lower into the sky, slowly darkening your room. You’ve been kidnapped by someone who isn’t doing this for the first time. The stains on the floor are various shades of dark red, burgundy, and brown. You’re not the first person here. You realize the person before you was here not too long ago. This is where the missing girls were taken to. This is how you joined their ranks. This is what you’ll last see. This is how you die.

…

The room is dim when you wake up by the sound of a slamming door above you. You rub your face and realize you had fallen asleep from the stress. The stress returns to wake you up quickly. That’s right, you’ve been kidnapped by Toji. One of the mechanics who works for Choso. You hear his boots thug along stairs, you will yourself upright as he opens the door. He greets you with a smug look and a brown paper bag. You see the bottom damp and slightly dripping. He tosses it next to the chair while he makes his way down onto it. You watch him move, even though you know there isn’t much you can do. Your muscles are stiff with anticipation and breath sharp with how little you can take in. He sighs as he regards you, “Ah sweetheart, you make such a cute little lap dog. But trust me, that brave face you’re putting on trying to look touch isn’t fooling anybody.”

You try to steady your breath and sit firm. He’s silent and puts on a neutral face as he approaches you. As you glare up at him, you’re suddenly jerked to the side with a very harsh pain in the side of your ribs. You cough and clutch your side, but aren’t given much time to recover before he pulls you up by the chain near your collar. “What? Don’t know how to greet your master when he comes home, little bitch? You do it so well for your spoiled pooch”. A slap to the face brings a cry from your lungs. Your hands come up to grip his, attempting to pull yourself up to breathe again. You stare him straight in the eyes with what little anger can make it past the fear filling your heart. “Fuck you…” you say with a rushed breath. He smirks and let’s go of the collar. You crumple to the ground with a cough as he continues. “There she is! Every one of you comes back after some time peace and quiet. The bunnies always keep crying and squealing though, I knew a dog would be better behaved” Another swift kick to your other side. He lets you cough and find your breath this time. For some reason, your mind has pointless questions for the man.

“You… you’re the one who’s been taking girls?” A clap of his hands rings though the room. “And there’s the question everyone asks after ‘please don’t hurt me!’.” he mocks. He brings himself closer to your face. “Is that what you’re going to say next? Please don’t. They all ask the same couple of questions and it gets so boring” He rises and wipes his hands over his face in half-assed displeasure. “I have hopes for you, ya know? To be a bit better than the others. Sure, they’re gorgeous little things… But their heads are empty. Too easy to push around and make my little toys. Not much for a hunt once I do let them loose. No drive, no passion, not much fight in them”. You find your spark to get answers. Not that it will matter much, he’s going to kill you. “…Have… You have hopes I’ll be what…?” You still can’t breathe right, or find much of your mind to think much. But if he’s talking, he might not hit you again just yet. He turns to you with a fake pout and points his index finger at you. “You, sweetheart, have something special about you. Not sure what really, but you tamed a useless spoiled mutt into a loyal dog… Yeah, that Gojo brat seems to like you a lot. Come on, tell me~ What is it about you that drew you in?! You have to be something special for that playboy to keep you around” He starts pacing the room with a hand on his chin, a sway to his hips that conveys his relaxed state of mind. “He’s pulled and thrown around the best-looking gals around, you’re not much compared to them. But I will say, the feel of you is quite nice”

“You’re not much for chasing popularity or trying to beg off the crumbs of those rich brats, no. You’re more down to earth, more regular than that. You keep yourself out of trouble like a good little house pet. A loyal little bitch to the Gojo brat any time he wants your attention” His last few words hold a higher volume and a sinister drawl that has you already flinching for the next hit. It comes with him kicking your shin and bringing a foot down onto the wrist of your left arm. You huff out a whimper at the pain. With it coming from two directions on your body, you can’t tell if your wrist is broken or sprained. He backs away a little to watch you react. You hold your wrist to your chest and pull your harmed leg back into you and glare at him. Bracing your mind for another attack, trying to learn his tells. You both stare at each other for a brief moment that feels longer than it was.

“I wonder, little dog, what kind of hunt you’ll give me…” As he turns his back to you, focused on the bag near the chair, you try to will yourself to ask another question without fear in your voice. It doesn’t quite sound confident, but you’re trying to be strong in what will be your final hours or days, “What do you want me for? What are you talking about? a ‘hunt’?”. He tosses the bag to you and replies with a flat look across his face.

“Everyone reaches a point in which they break. A point in which they either give up and let the predator take them. A point when they play dead, hoping it does something. A point where they submit and do anything for me. Or, if I’m lucky, a point where they let themselves show me a feral dog who fights back!” his rise in volume and tone has you shrink back a bit again. You brace yourself. He sighs, lowers his puffed-up chest and shoulders, and speaks softer. “I am… a hunter. A predator who thrives for the ultimate chase. But soft prey of bunnies and does aren’t enough. I’m hopping a loyal little dog like you will be something more for me…” He grins at you again. You’re digesting his words as he makes his way to leave the room, giving you one last piece of his thoughts.

“I’m looking forward to you giving me something more, sweetheart. Now eat your dinner and wait for me like a good bitch”. The door in front of you closes with an echo around the room. As you focus on his heavy steps up the stairs, you start to notice the smell from the bag. Slowly pulling it to you and opening it with one hand, you discover it to be, what you can assume, is wet dog food. The smell has you pull back as your stomach does flips. Normally such a smell would be one you could tolerate, but with the hits you have taken and the adrenaline in you, its repulsive. You lean your back to the wall and bring your knees up to quietly cry into your chest. You’re going to die here like this.

A CHECKERED FLAG AND BURNING IRON – Chapter Four (2.4k)

~ The tale of a Final Girl and life after her starring role, oh, and Gojo’s there too. But for how long will his hand be able to hold on to Her’s when she’s forever changed from who he knew, and can he keep up?

~ A Final Girl/Slasher tale, College AU, Street Racer!Gojo X Outcast/Final Girl!Reader, slow burn

~ Warnings: Minors DNI, Horror/Slasher movie themes and subjects, PTSD, mentions of sexual activity, non-con, kidnapping, bullying, blood, fighting/physical injury

~ Author’s Declaration: The concept of Street Racer! Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, and Ryomen Sukuna are borrowed with permission from Minouyujis (POST)

Chapter Four (word count: 2,455)

Despite the long night of trying to study and trying to sleep, identifying those that were partying late into the night at Gojo’s Sunday night house party was a fun Monday morning game for you. The smell of coffee and energy drinks abundant, dark circles and make-up to cover them, shuffling feet, low hums and grunts as responses to questions and conversations. These are regular sites at any college or university across the nation. But those after a house party have a different energy to them. Your boyfriend was no exception, but he’ll sleep till noon and can act quite well, that he’s unaffected until he is actually recovered the next day. You often teased Gojo that he should get into an acting group or club of some kind. If it was just the two of you around, he would make a dark joke about how he got good by learning to fool his parents. ‘Over bearing and strict parents raise good liars’, he’d say. You’d still leave a glass of water and a snack on the night stand before you left in the morning.

Lunch with Haibara and Nanami was just the boost to your spirit you needed to soldier on through your own tiredness. Gojo’s afternoon would see him finish an hour after you did, so you made your way to the library to finish off an essay that was due soon. Despite the ambient sounds of clicking keys, page turning, and pens and pencils onto paper, occasional words from hushed conversations still added to your spirit draining again. It would rise a low burn to the back of your head and neck, reminding you what Gojo tried to ease everyone from the night before. Still a missing young woman from your campus. Headphones with something instrumental to keep you on track only lasted so long. Returning home with Gojo, you could see the through work of the cleaners he hired. The two of you spread the take-out you collected onto the large dining table, thus summoning your two roommates. Shoko’s comments of what she learned about damaging the human body with minimal effort, Geto and Gojo’s occasional disgust or childish way of turning such facts sexual, turning to the talk of cars and anything BUT business studies. At least you and Shoko would have a fun time with anatomy and theory discussions when the boys got their own little world.

Not one to slow himself down, Gojo had a race night on new ground in a far side of town. The challenge picked him up, while Geto would decline. An overdue essay was going to cause a fair bit of damage if he couldn’t buckle down on it, and he’d try to get started on the next one to avoid another risk. His parents worked hard to help him get into a student loan, and helped to keep him going. The guilt of letting them down wouldn’t be something he could live with. At least you know he loves his parents and is kind to them. Maybe that’s why he gave you shit all the time; the jealousy of you getting a scholarship and he probably only had so much energy for being genuine for a select few. Gojo would take Shoko to her girlfriend’s place on his way out while you stayed in.

“I’ve got one last assignment left and then its smooth sailing for a few weeks, it’s fun watching others panicking over their procrastination. I like walking by and waving as I leave” you tell Gojo as he heads to the door. Shoko chimes in before Gojo can open his mouth, “That’s a funny way of saying you’ll be up late on your phone”. You two didn’t spend that much time together, but she’s a good friend who knew you too well. “No, I won’t. Told myself I’d finish… I can do this… I hope”, you reply with a comical face and hand flourish. “Aw, Pumpkin, you know fibbing will only make you look bad. Don’t tell me my good girl is a delinquent like me? I’m so proud of her” Gojo says with a show of ruffling your hair. With a shared kiss between you, Gojo loudly calls out into the house for his best friend, “Suguru~! Don’t die writing up there and protect my little Cupcake~!”

You doubted he could hear it, and even if he could through his headphones he’s surely wearing, he’d just tell Gojo to not die in a car fire or he’d be pissed. Leaving you to sneak to the kitchen for dessert. You got a hold of an ice cream bar from the back of the freezer. Enjoying the quiet of the house as you leaned over the counter top to eat. You didn’t intend to stay there to enjoy your treat, but it’s just where you landed while you took in the small details of the area around you. The white, black and brown of the spacious kitchen, the dark stillness of the soft living room over the breakfast bar, tall intimidating windows with curtains partial closed line the wall leading to the front entry way. You walked across and finished closing the curtains. Returning to the kitchen to tidy up what remained of that night’s dinner’s left overs and your own treat’s waste, you realized the cleaners didn’t empty the under-cabinet rubbish bins. Both trash and recycle were full and the smells that came across ruined your moment of peace in the quiet home with a sharp pain that traveled slowly though your lungs no matter how much you breathed deeply away from the kitchen. Those unique blend of unpleasant kind of smells that stick and linger in your nose for a while.

That’s it, you couldn’t take it, you tied up the bag for the general trash and pulled out the bucket for recycling. The outside containers were just on the driveway side of the house, you could cut through the garage. You grabbed a pair of Gojo’s sandals near the door to the garage, passed by one of Gojo’s cars and then one of Geto’s, and opened the side exit door. You didn’t bother with the side lights as the bins were just a few steps up from you. The clatter of the bottles and cans was sharper on your ears than you had hoped it would be. The clattering sounds of glass bouncing off the wall, fence, and part of the neighbor’s exterior wall. You flinched a little as the last of it settled down into the larger collection bin. A bit of fresh air feeling good and clearing of the previous assault to your peace (and senses). Grabbing the bucket off the ground after tossing the general trash into the next bin, you walked back to the door and…

A sudden and shocking pull, a dark and rough vision taking away your sight, and a tightness at your upper body had you suddenly more alert than you could think at. A strong arm as solid as an old oak tree was as sudden around your neck as was the covering over your eyes? Whole head? You couldn’t tell anyways. You thrashed your legs as hard as you could to break free, but you could quickly feel your focus and strength drain away. Your breath could not be reclaimed, the beast who caught his prey has sunk his fangs deep into you and snuffed out the fire your panic had lit in your bones. A last attempt to kick his groin had you miss and make contact with his upper leg with the pitiful last of your strength. The warmth of your muscles drained way by this monster of a form who stole away your soul’s fire, leaving you cold and motionless within the longest minute you have ever felt.

You went limp in his arms but he would not be leaving anything to chance right now. A little bit longer around your neck to be sure you weren’t acting. His gloved hand that held you close around your lower stomach loosened just enough to snake its way up your chest and over your heart. While still using that arm to pin you against him, his hand made direct contact with your skin to learn you for the first time. Ducking itself under the bottom of your shirt. Slowly feeling the softness of your stomach, full from dinner and that ice cream he saw you enjoy in the kitchen. Prey that’s full of a meal is slower to think and react, so much of the body’s focus on it lulling you softly into a gentle state. Curving up be felt the fabric that cupped your left chest. He loosened his grip slightly on your neck, while still using the position to hold you up in the dark.

He could have a moment more to meet you here and now. Feeling the skin at the top of your left breast giving him a direct sensation of your slowed heart and breath. Slow and steady without a twitch in the skin to the cold of his hands. Just the state he aimed for, and had perfected on small prey such as you. His hand rocked back and forth over the top of your chest, as he now learned the smell of your hair and rapid sweat from his entrapment of you. Clean and sweet as he hoped, as you all tended to be. With his prey secure in their slumber, he made his way to the back of the property and through the back gate. Carefully locking it back as he found it, standard padlocks such as these are child’s play for him to pick. The short grouping of trees between the back of the property and the next street being an all too perfect way to hide your introductions. As he came through the trees to a quiet and dark street, his dark car hidden from view under unpowered street lights. No light coming from the houses under construction on the other side of the street would further aid him.

He couldn’t be happier with the circumstances that would aid in his latest hunt. Early in his planning, he thought this would be too good to be true, it wouldn’t be an easy catch. His prey was illusive, cautious, close to her pack, and only scavenging the land during the day. But her pack leader and mate is a bolder one, but a foolish pup compared to a more experienced lone-wolf hunter.

Opening the back of his car, and with the pull of a cord, a secret padded compartment is reveled under the back seats. Once he is pleased with the placement of his prey, from his pocket he pulls a small syringe. He chooses his needle’s location carefully. Your lounge pants being oh so easy to roll down, giving him ample sight of your back side and thighs above the knee. He smooths his free hand up and down the side of your leg, varying the pressure at the tip of his fingers to watch as your skin rises and falls. How it springs back against the pull and push of his hand. How he would love to see how your flesh handles his patient strength, and how it will look running though the moonlight. But for now, he was running out of time. He held a part of your upper thigh steady as he gave you a small amount of his little helper. A bit of something to make sure you have a good sleep until your trip is over. With your pants rolled back up and your hands and feet tied together, he tossed his gloves into the compartment with you and shut the seat back closed. Tonight, would be a very good night drive home for him.

…

You awoke to a ringing in your ears, darkness still held your vision, while your back and legs felt sore and cold hardness around you. Your arms stiff as you tried to move them. You willed yourself to try and wake up more, but a wall in your mind stopped you in your tracks, too tall to climb just yet. You turned your head slowly around as if it would do some good. You couldn’t think through the cloud, you moved like a puppeteer’s untrained hand. Slow and one piece at a time to try and learn your space.

Sharply and suddenly, you feel the sting of cold water over you. Suddenly sober and upright as best as you could move. A new ringing softly filled your ear at the clarity of your second awakening. This time, the ringing from above you, artificial but still your vision gave you nothing. A drop of a bucket hitting the hard floor had your head move sharply to its location. A few shuffles from worn boots and a low hum of a man’s voice, a satisfied huff at your stiffened form led him to a soft chuckle in his voice, and a few steps closer to you. You heard the grind of sand against concrete under his feel as he crouched down in front of you. You turned your head slowly to him, breath heavily deep in your lungs as you tried to reach it from the fear that pulled it down into you. You mind empty, only the emotion of things not experienced often in its place. You stilled what breath you had gained back as his hand rested on the top of your head.

“Wakey, wakey sleeping beauty” The timbre of his deep voice called to you. Something about it felt like you knew it, but at the same time, there was a new fear of something you didn’t know. A tone of darkness you had never felt in your bones from how the last syllables rolled off his tongue. It made the burning in your chest from the panic, run cold. A slow and even pull of the cloth over your head froze your lungs still. A few moments of silence over adjusting back to the artificial light that hummed above you. But what really stopped everything to a way that felt like time itself stopped, was seeing his smiling face. The face of the hunter who caught their new prized prey, one so easy but also so hard to capture. You truly then felt the nothingness of a dying soul as his eyes bore the strength of his spirit into you. You could only experience the shrinking of yourself under his gaze, the glint of his smile showing nothing but pride and satisfaction. He tilted his head and spoke in that now haunting rumble again.

“Hello, sweetheart…”