god awful shitty feeling of dread in my heart

[tom=http://i.imgur.com/gcjFDr7.png, #ffcc99]Jude watched as he was untied, eyes glazed over and uncomprehending. For half a second, hope bloomed in his heart, innocent and desperate. Maybe Nick had gotten bored with him, or maybe he was happy with Jude for eating Bianca. That hope was crushed, stomped on, and ground into dust when his back hit the bed.

He woke up more, alert from Nick feeling him up, eyes wide and frozen. Involuntarily, he gave a little jolt and peep of a sound while the man's fingers were brushing over his chest. His face burned. Heat added to the pain and shaking, it was like he had a fever. He wished his delirium would come back, instead of this slow awareness of everything that happened, any twitch or touch. Jude's brows knit together, and he tried to struggle, panicking, the alarm sirens blaring again. "N-n-n-no-- nn-nnnn, help, h-help," he sniveled, weeping quietly and clawing at the sheets. This wasn't happening, this wasn't happening. Oh, god, Jesus, it was. "Help me," Jude squeaked, giving Nick the most groveling, pitiful look he could.

Nick kissed him. That was the opposite of helpful. As a contrast to the pain, this could almost be called soft. It didn't take long for it to turn into something demanding, intense-- women weren't like this, with Jude, the urgency entirely new, punching the air right out of him. This, combined with Nick's magic, made him putty in his hands, limp and warm. Jude could only continue to shake like a leaf, but even that became part of the background, unable to interrupt Nick.

His lip being bitten into, blood pouring down his chin, didn't make a big difference. A kind death wasn't in Jude's future, only Nick damaging and taking him apart inch by agonizing inch. Either he would be eaten alive or die from the increasing lack of blood. Perhaps a mix of the two. He felt woozy and lightheaded, and he knew. He knew he was going to die soon. Hell, Nick was going to fuck him to death. The ability for fear hadn't been overworked yet, because Jude was terrified. He couldn't move, but his eyes were bright, shining with devastation and a grand, truly miserable resignation. He'd already felt himself die, deep within, before. Now it would be caught up to and matched with a proper, physical end.

He thought he'd be happy, when he was finally at the edge of death. Free.

He really needed to stop being so fucking stupid.

"Do'wan, don'wanna," Jude breathed, voice scratchy, choking on some of his blood. Nick's fingers were being stuffed in him. It was alarming and hurt, like it all was. "D-don't break, d-don't, don't!" the sheep urged, eyes feral, those of a trapped and stressed animal. There was last minute strength trying to surge up, but Nick had shoved him down, and the energy bursts of dying livestock was nothing next to a healthy, horny man.

Jude went lifeless again. Still alive, but the fight exiting the building. It was over. He attempted to block everything out, disassociate, and it worked at first. Apathy was peace. Peace never lasted. The sudden pleasure was electric on Jude's spine, his back arching a bit, when Nick pressed at a certain spot inside of him. He fucking moaned, shuddery. After that, he made another choked sound, not from blood this time, but scandalized shock.

Oh god, oh no. Don't do this to him. Don't let it end like this. He didn't want to give his killer this kind of satisfaction and power. Nothing left to lose, he'd told himself, when Nick used his name. But now he realized his reactions to Nick had been his own. The disgust and rejection was still a form of control, and not meant to be stolen.

Naive, naive, naive, naive, naive, naive, naive, naive--

Stupid idiot. Dumb sheep. Die already.

Jude cried.

Life was hard, and honestly, he just wanted to go home.[/tom]

[tom=http://i.imgur.com/gcjFDr7.png, #ffcc99]This was both the best and worst sex of Jude's life. The beginning was amazing, made him forget he was in pain, and the rest made him forget that anything aside from pain had ever existed.

It fucked Jude up, being in more bliss when raped by a serial killer than at any other point in his life, the consensual relationships with women he'd thought he cared about. He didn't know what was wrong with him. They'd assumed he was the strong silent type, even attracted to it, and it'd been easy for him to agree with and accept as reality. But under Nick, abused and submissive, a man's cock in him, Jude's voice came out loud and clear, excessively. A few squeaks and moans were excusable, but this? He couldn't shrug off or defend being a fucking screamer.

Not having a dick wasn't relevant here. Jude climaxed anyway. Multiple times, just like Nick. He felt sticky and good and awful, goosebumps everywhere on his skin, heat screwed into him, high on the extremes-- sore but desirable.

For a while, having Nick fuck him senseless was fireworks for Jude, but that daydream faded. All lines had to be crossed today. Nick was an ambitious, hungry person, terrifying within that.

He sliced Jude to ribbons and fucked those goddamn ribbons. The pain he'd experienced wasn't something he could put into words. He squealed like the dying animal he was, which most people agreed was one of the worst noises in the world, uncanny and distressing.

When Jude died, it wasn't accompanied by any significant last thoughts. He went out ruined to new heights, suffering to his final breath, empty and full. It wasn't peace. It wasn't anything.

Fitting.

Jude woke up and clutched at his chest, breathing heavily.

Well, that'd been a really shitty dream. The nightmares had started with his parents' death, and never settled down.

"Another one, Jude? Want to talk about it?" his cousin asked, popping up next to his bed. Jude nearly punched him in the face.

Grandma called them down for dinner. Jude sighed and shook his head. "It's blurry anyway. I don't remember a lot. Silly, too. I think you were in it. It's probably 'cause of you sneaking up on me like this!"

Jude tried to get out of bed, and his cousin sat down on it, putting one hand on his leg to keep him from moving. "I'm worried about you. With how much this happens, it makes you seem broken."

"I'm fine, sorry," Jude said, cheeks flushing lightly with shame. He watched his cousin's fingers creep up his thigh, spidery, and looked at him. "Who are you?"

"It doesn't matter," Nick told him, before his face twisted back to Jude's cousin's again, and the bed turned into rotting corpses underneath them. The bodies squirmed and reached out to latch onto Jude, holding tight at his wrists and ankles, around his neck, into his flesh and pulling him down. "I'm going to hurt you either way."


Jude came back to life. The only pain he felt now was through his fresh memories of it. Otherwise, he was refreshed and healthy. Something felt like it was missing, unrelated to the torture he'd faced, and Jude couldn't grasp why. Clean and off.

He tilted his head over to the bedside table, the salad and water there, taking a good gulp from the latter. His hands went up and touched the chain, cold metal on sensitive, new skin.

Jude turned his attention to Nick, silent. It didn't click until a few minutes passed. His expression went from blank to having the color rapidly drain.

"Wait," Jude said, with a burst of laughter, jittery. "T-that's… a joke, right? This is a joke?" He touched his own face, patting it, then slapping. "Wake up. Again. Do it again. Not here." He clawed, further dread surfacing. "W-wait. No. What? No… Huh? Haha! E-excuse me?" Jude choked on air and grabbed the chain, promptly trying to strangle himself with it. Maybe if he died another time, he'd stay dead, or come back not fucking here!

Jude didn't go too far in this, pain only making him go back to the trauma of his previous death. He crawled under the bedcovers and curled into a ball, freaked out and not sure what else to do. He had to catch a break before trying to interact with Nick.[/tom]

[tom=http://i.imgur.com/gcjFDr7.png, #ffcc99]Jude wasn't given a chance to have a break, and Nick brought the confrontation to him. He was jerked around like the rest of Nick's dolls, heart racing, cheek stinging. It felt like nothing in comparison to what he'd endured already, but did shock him. The yelling was the real threat. Jude was shrinking and trembling, trying not to flee and make Nick more angry. Fuck, his ears were ringing. He hated this, squeezing his eyes shut, suppressing his own agitation and swallowing pride.

Slowly, Jude nodded. "I'm listening," he said. And he did, sprawled on the bed, staring at Nick. He took the condescension obediently, but didn't smile about it, mostly fantasizing about slugging Nick across his pretty boy face, breaking his nose and making him bleed. Being called an idiot, then having Nick claim to like him, added to the bristling. But he stayed shut up. Good lord. What the fuck kind of situation was this? Jude supposed he was having a brief window of clarity, but only because the overload of information couldn't be worked through all at once, and therefore couldn't be cried over.

Jude's face was grabbed, and he swallowed thickly, eyes wide, fear rushing back and taking control. "I-I can't tell the--" he clapped his hands over his mouth. He shouldn't have said that. That was the last thing Jude should've said. He tugged his knees to his chest, gaze glossy, but holding back the tears. "There's nobody," he whispered, voice small. "I'm alone." Perhaps another detail he wasn't supposed to share, but Nick wasn't warned off by things like that, was he? That Eroshay girl. The Rosales. It was dangerous, but she'd poked at him. If Jude was perceived as harmless, instead, maybe he'd get more leeway. In fact, that was exactly what Nick was telling him. It made him feel ill.

He forced himself to eat the salad. Hopefully not poisoned. He could use the strength and care to his proper diet. "Thanks," Jude mumbled, a great deal of willpower needed to keep hatred out of his tone. He didn't speak again, focusing on sating his hunger, coping through it. The taste was nice. He liked salad. He wondered if Bianca was still in his stomach, or if the regeneration had done away with the traces of her. It weighed on his shoulders, making him sweat, walls closing in.

He paused, salad almost done, and looked at Nick. "I do know what you're capable of," he stated, quietly. "Billy, isn't it? Nice makeover."[/tom]

[tom=http://i.imgur.com/gcjFDr7.png, #ffcc99]Jude choked, faceplanting against the mattress when Nick pulled his chain. He was going to have to get used to this, wasn't he? Felt like the kind of dick move that'd be casually repeated. Fucking douchebag white trash motherfucker on a power trip, he thought, scathing. Oughta shove that entitlement right up your-- He grit his teeth for a moment while his face was hidden, then exhaled, and squirmed back upright.

"I'm never lucky," Jude said, dry. He debated internally over how to answer, plans he had to escape, but being in the know about what Nick was like hung over his head and reminded him who he was dealing with. The crudeness was flashy, but the intensity and intelligence lurked behind it, waiting, watching. He eyed Nick, wary and… interested. Either way, his gaze was glued to him.

He didn't think he was going to beat Nick through any traditional means. Despite the looks, the reputation, he wasn't traditional. He wasn't a man made for boxes, climbing in and out of them as he pleased, simple and complicated. Tying yourself down was frivolous and nonessential for his species, unneeded for their bigger than life ego.

Jude pressed a hand to his temple, sighing softly. "I couldn't call the police, even if I wanted to." He swallowed, rubbing his arms, squeezing a bit. "Listen, u-uh… do an internet search of my full name, articles should come up, click one of the first results." They all told the same story. A detective with the NYPD was trapped by serial killer for several days, rescued from alleged pile of corpses, and left unable to speak of the incident. Some were kinder to him, talking about trauma and being thankful that he'd lived, while others were less so, suggesting theories that he'd been fired for involvement, general incompetency, or was refusing to talk as a choice and betrayal.

It'd been extremely stressful at the time. And that time was… two months ago. Fresh wounds, salted thoroughly. Jude blushed furiously and bit the inside of his cheek. "Since then... I hear, see, feel things, if they're bad. Someone cheats on their wife, I'll pick it up from their presence. A guy likes to rape, murder, and eat people in no particular order, same concept. But this sneak preview, cheating glance at your sins fucks me, 'cause I traded out the ability to rat about it. To talk about fucking anything, whether I caught it with bullshit abracadabra mind magic or personal experience. I'm just a witness, meant to absorb your grime and cry, I guess. I'm not sure what else to say-- this didn't come with a very good instructions booklet." Shit felt like assembling Ikea furniture.[/tom]

[tom=http://i.imgur.com/gcjFDr7.png, #ffcc99]Jude waited, holding his breath, while Nick read about his life on a phone screen. It felt like a shitty trade for some future, currently imaginary escape. Did it count as making Nick underestimate him if he really was this vulnerable? Everything he did was a mistake, or at least, so it seemed. And least this mistake had been gotten over with, and the information couldn't slip later.

You don't have to say anything else, Nick told him, and Jude couldn't help but feel both relieved and terrified. On the one hand, that made things easier on him now, on the other, it wasn't how he wanted to spend the rest of his life. Nick's tone was assured to the point of rattling him, and he smiled that uncanny predator smile, displaying pretty teeth to eat soft sheepies with.

But Jude leaned into his touch, the shame burning, his weak heart desperate. He'd never been this alone and endangered. Surely he'd break, if not for indulging in any glimmer of comfort that could be found. When closing his eyes and being stroked, something in Jude was able to detach from the situation and have a split second of relaxation. Then, he snapped out of it, and shivered unpleasantly when Nick reminded him he'd screamed for his rapist. An acid shower might've helped, but Jude was allowed no such thing, left to brood over the violation and implications instead.

Jude inhaled, shaky, and stood from the bed, nearly tripping but catching up to Nick soon. Too jittery to rebel, he took in his living arrangements and warnings, highly alert and repeating the details inwardly. He stared at his closet home. Fun and comfy. Oh, Christ, he didn't want to be asking the question he was about to ask, to start inviting too much compromise after already being on an uneven playing board, but… He had to. For survival. Escaping was important, but without any day to day comfort or security, there'd be nothing left to save. Jude wasn't fully confident that didn't already apply, but didn't know what else to do. He needed these varied strategies to dangle in front of his own face like shiny keys, to distract from the possibility of being utterly, permanently fucked.

"…Can more privileges be earned?" Jude asked, swallowing, dreading any answer. For example, he was ready to hate the methods of earning them, because making an effort to win Nick's favor reminded him of downing poison, and might have the same end result.[/tom]