But there is a a new station available.
Channel number 6. HERDEADRINGER...
herdeadringer is an entity, a carbon copy that isn't quite perfect. Welcome to mullermilkshake's side blog. 🎃
I write fan fiction to fuel the overflowing ideas my twisted little brain just cannot keep contained. Outlast Exclusive. Entirely NSFW, practically no fluff. This is strictly 18+ just because I write about this doesn't mean I condone it.
Comfort? I don't know her.
I'm sorry in advance.
I do not currently take requests.
Francoberry is life, and I need Shocktherapy. It's delicious.
If you're on ao3 and are looking for a Clyde Perry x F!reader fic to sink your teeth into, please check out my fic 'Professional relations' It's Clyde Perry x F!Secretary!reader
Summary - You've heard something you shouldn't and to prevent it becoming reality, actions must be taken. You are Clyde Perry's secretary, and he presents you with a way out of being sent to the trials as part of Eastman's new sick plans.
Get pregnant, or be sent to the trials.
You take it, and trip into a fake relationship with your boss.
In a facility full of liars, you need to convince everyone you’re telling the truth.
I know, I know, another pregnancy fic, but I just... damn it I just can't help it!
This will not be posted to Tumblr, hence why I'm putting this here. Once Eddie's fic is done, I doubt I'll be posting here, so if this is something you're interested in, please let me know what you think! ☺️
Going forward, I will not be posting any more archives of deviancy on here either, you can find the new one shots here. Sorry I won't be posting anything else here apart from Eddie's fic, but I hope to see you on ao3 sometime!
I cannot stand how badly that secret doc is getting misinterpreted by so many people because they just wanna fill out a stereotype for Coyle. Coyle is smart, that’s been showcased so many fucking times. If he was illiterate I’m sure he wouldn’t have been able to get a job as a cop and fill out reports. Plus, if you actually, yknow, READ THE FUCKING DOCUMENT you can very clearly tell (and it’s stated so many times) that he’s drugged. You don’t have to like him to admit he is smart, SCARILY smart, and there are so many of his own voice lines proving that fact.
I’m sure it’s hard to actually properly write when you’re drugged to the point that when you taste your own blood you can actively feel it cycle back into itself. Not to mention I’m sure he’s getting into such bad memory fogs, is aware of it, and just NEEDS to write something down to not lose his damn train of thought. The fact that so many people will actively ignore these facets of his character to fulfill this bias for him, is insane to me
Summary - Eddie Gluskin was transported to a new facility after being found at Mount Massive Asylum. You take it upon yourself to know more about the threatening man under tight restraints. Who knows, maybe you and he hit it off?
Pairing - Eddie Gluskin x Fem! Psychiatrist!reader
Cast - Reader, You, Eddie Gluskin, Original Male Character(s), Jeremy Blaire, The Twins, Frank Manera, Chris Walker
Tags - Dead dove do not eat, Mentions Canon-typical violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, reader is a psychiatrist, Manipulation, Bigoted view on psychiatric patients, Eddie's the patient, I am not a psychiatrist, dub-con, Derogatory Names, Survival Mode, Heavy Petting, Dubious Consent, Choking, p in v sex, Creampie, Physical Abuse, Sedation, Smut, Aftercare, Bitchiness/Gossip, Sexual Harassment, Male OC, Minor Side Characters, age gap, Teasing/Making fun of others, inhumane treatment, Angst, Anguish, Sensitive topics like Abortion/Unplanned pregnancy/Aftermath of sexual assault & Dubious consent, Sex Toys, Labour/Contractions, Disembowelment, Religious Undertones, References to burning alive, Crucifixion, Eye Gouging, Mentions of Breeding/Sexual abuse/Infertility/Contraception/Cream pie/Unplanned pregnancy, Eddie Gluskin canon behaviour, Graphic depictions of Blood/Gore/Murder/Torture/Violence, Mentions of Abortion/Rape/Bodily fluids/Urine/Faeces/Fat shaming/Premature labour/Adoption, Female OC (side character), Graphic depictions of Labour/Delivery/Afterbirth/Rejecting the baby/Bonding/Breastfeeding/Neglect, Legitimacy, Public sex/Car sex/Protected sex/Unprotected sex/Grinding/Riding/Baby trapping/Reproductive coercion, Chauvinism/Infidelity/Coercion/Gaslighting/References to SA/Mentions of STI's, Adoption process, Nightmares, Throat cutting, Processing Trauma, Post-partum bleeding/Implied child abuse & neglect/Referenced Child kidnapping, Threats of non-con/Self-mutilation/Faeces/Non-con masturbation, Body horror/Burning alive/Arson/Tasering/Crushing/De-gloving/Suffocation/Poisoning/Strangulation, Stitched together body/Body horror/Suffocation
Chapters
One l Two l Three l Four l Five l Six l Seven l Eight l Nine l Ten
Eleven l Twelve l Thirteen l Fourteen l Fifteen l Sixteen l Seventeen l Eighteen l Nineteen l Twenty
Twenty-one l Twenty-two l Twenty-three l Twenty-four l Twenty-five
Twenty-six l Twenty-seven l Twenty-eight l Twenty-nine l Thirty
Thirty-one l Thirty-two l Thirty-three l Thirty-four l Thirty-five
If you would like to be tagged please let me know! 🤗
DISCLAIMER - This will be crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the series. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).
Also, please don't post any of my work, thank you!
Finally writing the next chapter of Professional relations and for the idea I have for the chapter after that, I'm researching a sex/relationship blog I found 😏 Js Js, I hope you're all doing well <3
This inbox submission made me laugh, and it was really flattering. Thank you for enjoying my headcanons enough to send me this inbox. That being said, I'm back! Hey y'all.
These will be headcanons about a reagent insecure about their body. Please enjoy, and consider this a 400 follower special! I appreciate y'all beyond words. Thank you so much for all the support and kind words. ♡
⚠️ WARNING: Talks of self-inflicted injuries, eating disorders, and small mentions of sex.
Leland Coyle:
* Being insecure would make you more susceptible to his manipulation. So, he would take full advantage... up until a certain point.
* Coyle would want you just insecure enough to make you feel like you're less than him. I mean, in his mind, you are anyway. You being insecure just helps him reinforce that idea.
* However, the tides will turn a bit when he sees that you genuinely start struggling. Whether you start hurting yourself (eating disorders, visible injuries...) or start becoming depressed, he'll notice.
* Only he's allowed to hurt you. You can only hurt yourself if he tells you to. Watching you suffer without his permission doesn't just show you're disobedient. It hurts him, too.
* "The hell you doin'?! Stop!"
* The thing is, Coyle can't be seen as weak. His ego is too big for that. So, he starts getting stern and angry with you.
* Coyle would start by incapacitating or cornering you in trials. He would demand you stop hurting yourself and/or tell you to "toughen up."
* If you didn't listen to him, or you got worse, Coyle would become more violent. If he found any self-inflicted injuries, he would target and shock them. No matter how fresh they were.
* If he noticed you weren't eating enough and losing a lot of weight, he would force you to sit in the cafeteria until you ate something. I do mean force, by the way. He would threaten to shock and injure you. Coyle would be there waiting on you all night if he had to. It's not like he gets good sleep anyway.
* If he noticed you were eating too much, I don't think he would understand it was a disorder at first. He would accidently make it worse by poking fun at you. He wasn't even trying to be seriously mean. He just loved watching you get embarrassed, or that's what he thought you were. Maybe it was shame.
* If your weight gain started causing issues, he would start chasing you longer and faster. Then, when he caught you, he would electrocute you until your body gave out (making sure to keep you alive). Oh, and expect a lot of vigorous sex.
~ (For context, electrocution does burn calories. Your metabolism stays elevated for minutes afterward too. Anyway, this shouldn't have to be said, but DO NOT try this at home. Electrocution can severely damage your muscles.)
* If you got bad enough, he may even consider notifying the doctors. Either that, or he'll start trying to keep you in his trials/sneak you into his sleep room. As much as it may not seem like it, he adores you. The last thing he wants to do is lose you. That being said, if someone needs to have eyes on you? He'll (gladly) make it happen.
* Behind closed doors, he may show you some sort of affection. Usually rough, tender kisses that lead to you against the wall. On calmer days (when he's too exhausted), he'll just give you hickeys and some love taps from his baton.
Mother Gooseberry:
* She's the sweetest of the bunch. Genuinely. She notices your mannerisms and pays close attention. The way you always try to cover or hide what you're insecure of.
* Mother Gooseberry is slightly more gentle with you. Both physically and mentally. When she grabs you during trials, she avoids touching the part of your body you're insecure of.
* If she has to touch that part of you, her grip isn't as rough. It'll be strong enough to keep you still, but no more than that.
* During the trial, you'll hear her compliment your body. Not in a weird or creepy way, mind you. She wants you to know that you're gorgeous just the way you are.
* "Daddy, did you see them? That little darling is so beautiful!"
* Mr. Futterman would be the exact opposite, feeding into your insecurities. He would insult you, but he would point out specific "problem" areas of your body. (There isn't any issue with your body. He's just a jerk.)
* "Beautiful? Just look at their teeth! Yellow and crooked."
* If Mother Gooseberry realized you had started hurting yourself, all bets would be off. She would be hesitant to even let the doctors near you.
* If she noticed any self-inflicted injuries, expect gentle lecturing and lots of bandages. She understands you get hurt in trials, but you shouldn't be doing it to yourself.
* If she noticed you were losing lots of weight fast, she would make you sit down to eat. Gently, need I mind you. She would sit right beside you the entire time, or maybe even eat with you. She would reassure you that you will always be beautiful, and food isn't anything to be afraid of.
* If she noticed you seemed to be eating too much, she would try harder to keep you with her so she could help regulate your diet. She'd be very subtle and sweet about it, offering you lots of fun distractions from eating. Bonus points if that distraction includes exercise, no matter the form.
* When everything is said and done, you are Mother Gooseberry's sweet angel baby. She will do what she can to keep you healthy. At least, relatively. Injuries and body changes are unavoidable in the Sinyala facility, but she'll make sure you live to see the next day.
* During more intimate moments, she'll shower your body with kisses. Paying special attention to your insecurities and leaving dozens of lipstick prints all over your skin.
Franco Barbi:
* Similar to Coyle, Franco needs to feel "bigger" than you. In his mind, you being insecure keeps you vulnerable and weak(er).
* He doesn't resort to poking fun at your insecurities a lot, but if he needs to? He will. If you get too confident and violence won't take you down a peg, he'll comment on your insecurities.
* Franco has insecurities of his own and understands feeling ugly, so he tries not to beat you while you're down.
* If Franco noticed you were harming yourself, the first thing he would do is force you to speak. Cornering you, holding you at gunpoint, asking why and how you got those injuries. Once he realized it was because you felt unattractive, he became more gentle with you. Hunting down bandages for you and forcing you to patch yourself up.
* If Franco noticed you weren't eating, that would concern him. He wants you to be healthy at the very least, but we all know he likes people who are more plush. Though, it's not even just your appearance. He'd also be worried about your lack of energy. So, he would try to save his food for you or intimidate the doctors into providing food for you. He would set up a date for the two of you in a trial, refusing to end the date until you've eaten enough.
* It would take a while before Franco would become concerned with you eating too much. As I've said, he likes you plush. He would, however, start getting concerened if you got sick or if you became depressed. If it came to that point, he would also attempt to distract you more often. Only with him, it would include more relaxed activities like cuddling and sleeping.
* During intimacy, Franco would subconsciously give special attention to your insecurities. Sucking, biting, licking, and lots of squeezing. Expect to be absolutely covered in his saliva. Bonus points if it's your chest or stomach, but he finds every part of you attractive.
* If you're having a particularly bad day, he may even give you some compliments. A lot of them would be lewd or concerning, but you'll get some sweet ones too.
* "Ya' know I like nice things, and you're the nicest thing I got sweetness."
* If you played nice, I could also see Franco trying to avoid injuring the areas you're insecure about. He wouldn't succeed all the time because Lupara is a sawed-off shotgun, but for you? He'd try. You're already insecure about that area. Why potentially make it worse? Sex with you is better when you have some confidence anyway.
Kress Twins:
* If the Kress Twins truly like you, they would be heartbroken by your insecurities. You know how Otto tells Arora, "Even if you were standing on your own legs a mile away from me, you couldn't hurt yourself in the slightest without torturing me. Please try to put on a smile, Arora."
Yeah. It would be the same with you. You deserve better than what your mind is telling you.
* Thankfully, they work for Murkoff. That makes it easy for them to get their hands on you. If they ever found out you were struggling with self harm or eating disorders, they would be quick to keep you in their trials/sleep room.
* Once in their care, the first thing they would do is examine you. Let's be honest, your examination wouldn't be on a strictly professional basis. They would touch almost every part of your body they could get their hands on. Don't worry, they would be soft and gentle with you.
* If for some reason they can't treat your injuries or nurse you back to health, they would allow the doctors to help. They couldn't separate you from Otto and Arora, but they would be allowed to aid you.
* I could see them trying to discuss your insecurities with you. If you were insecure about your weight, they would help you come up with a meal plan. If you were insecure about your teeth, maybe they'd give you prosthetics or more/stronger dental hygiene items.
* "You're more than beautiful, darling. Sexy, strong, and desirable. Anyone who says different, I'll disembowel and flay."
"Otto's right, love. You are powerful and stunning. Right beside us, as you are, is exactly where you need to be."
* Otto and Arora would let you pick out clothing that makes you feel beautiful and/or sexy, then buy them for you. The only requirement is that you need to wear the clothes in front of them. Especially if you get something sexy like lingerie? Their eyes would be all over you.
* During sex, they would focus more on you for a time. Entirely. Not even just your insecurities. They would intend to prove just how desirable you really are.
* Otto would make good on his word, too. If any reagent made you feel insecure or said anything nasty, they would be a gory mess by the time Otto was done with them.
Liliya Bogomolova:
* Although not quite like the Kress Twins, Liliya would also be heartbroken. You were her beloved, her lamb. You were more than gorgeous to her.
* If she noticed you weren't eating, I think that would concern her the most. It would remind her of her own mother and how she was abused. One of the ways her mother abused her was by starving her. Liliya did not want you, her love, enduring the same pain. She would grab snacks and replace the useful items in trials with them. Only when you took or ate the snacks would she put the useful items back out.
* If Liliya noticed you were eating too much, she would try and scare you more. Frequently blending in with the mannequins or popping out of hiding spots.
~ (For context, being scared can potentially burn calories due to an increase in your metabolism. If nothing else, fear can act as an appetite suppressant. Everyone's bodies are different, though. I'm just trying to get creative.)
* Like the others, I doubt Liliya would notice self-harm quickly. I mean, there are so many ways one person can get injured in the trials. If she did notice, she would give small comforts. Press the teeth of her mask to your scars/cuts to mimic kisses or gently wrap her hand around your scars/cuts. She wants you to know she cares without being overwhelming.
* If you became sick or if your mental health kept declining, Liliya wouldn't hesitate to manipulate anyone. If it meant seeing you healthy again, she would do it.
* If there was someone else making you insecure, she wouldn't think twice about tearing them apart or forcing them to tear themselves apart. I think Liliya would prefer to mutilate them herself since it would be more personal and satisfying.
* Liliya would attempt to "persuade" the doctors/Dr. Easterman into letting her in the same trial as you. It didn't matter who's trial you were doing. Coyle, Franco, Gooseberry... she wanted to see you. She'd be determined to monitor you.
* When intimacy calls, she may start carving hearts or crosses onto your body. Unless you've been dealing with self-harm. If you have, then she would try her best not to cut you. It was unavoidable, but she was more delicate than usual. Instead of serious cuts, they were scratches.
* "You are divine, my angel. You are worth more than your body."
* While Liliya loves to see you in pain or intense pleasure, she understands your need for more tender moments. So, she'll give you compliments or try and set aside some calmer moments for you. The compliments she gives are always genuine.
----------
Pusher:
* Pusher doesn't really understand why you're so insecure. He isn't upset or insanely heartbroken. He just wants to know why. He loves your body. It makes him feel good, he's able to make you feel good, you can both get high... what's the problem?
* Depending on your body and how it reacts to the drugs, he may use it for different things. If being high makes you hungry, he'll drug you if he notices you aren't eating. If it makes you relaxed or exhausted, he may use them if he notices you're eating too much.
* He wants to help, but he can't do much. If you're seriously in danger of dying, he'll try notifying the doctors. If he can't take care of you, someone has to.
* For self-harm, his methods aren't much different. Though, he does know that reagents suffer/hurt when faced with full psychosis. So he figures, if you're going to hurt yourself, why not get high too?
* Despite how it may seem, he cares about your you and your insecurities. He'll try and make you question why you're insecure about yourself. If that doesn't work, he'll give you some casual compliments instead.
* "C'mon, baby. You're enough for me, why not for yourself?"
* Pusher would find you in trials and lead you to a quieter, darker area. Not to do anything too scandalous, but just to chill. Maybe you two will sit on the floor and get a little high, not enough to put you into full psychosis. Something to distract you or calm your nerves, y'know?
Pitcher:
* Pitcher would be aggressive with you, but lovingly so. He's genuinely a little annoyed about your insecurities, but in a caring way. He doesn't like being touched yet.. he desires you enough to the point of almost wanting to be touched by you.
* Every time you say something bad about yourself, Pitcher will growl at you and shake his head. Be prepared for Pitcher's death stare.
* You know how when he snaps, sparks come from his gloves? Yeah, he's grabbing your body insecurities while his fingertips are still hot. It'll leave burn marks, but it's his way of showing he loves those parts of you.
* If Pitcher notices you aren't eating or eating too much, he would attempt to interrogate you about it. Unfortunately, Pitcher struggles to communicate. Which also means that if he wanted the doctors to try and help you, they (probably) wouldn't understand.
* Self-harm would also be an irritation to him unless you were burning yourself. Either way, he wouldn't really like it. You're getting hurt enough. Not just by him but by every other ex-pop, prime asset, trap, and trial environment. If he ever found any sharp things or lighters on you, he would take them away.
* I think Pitcher would be the type to patch up any wounds you inflict on yourself. He would go as far as cleaning your wounds with isopropyl alcohol first. Just tell him to be careful. Both the bandages and alcohol are flammable, he may accidently burn you in the process.
Night Hunter:
* The Night Hunter would be ravenous with you. He'll show you love the best way he knows how. Pain and injuries.
* It doesn't matter how he learns of your insecurities (self-harm, eating too little, eating too much, or just communication), either. He'll make you show him each of your insecurities so he can leave some cuts on your skin. After each cut, he'll force you to say something nice about that part of your body.
* I do think the Night Hunter, after learning about your insecurities, would praise/compliment you more. He may be ruthless, but he still cares about you.
* "You shine bright, little mouse."
* Another way he shows his love is by avenging you. If he learns another reagent was harassing you, he wouldn't hesitate to hunt them down. The Night Hunger enjoys the chase anyway. It's just more fun for him.
* I could also see the Night Hunter becoming a lot more touchy with you during trials, grabbing any bit of skin he can get his hands on. It's his way of showing just how sexy and desirable you are. He won't just show you he wants you, he'll show you he needs you.
* He'll come up behind you in trials and wrap his arms around you, then steer you over to the nearest wall. It doesn't always end in sex. Sometimes, he just wants to make you all hot and bothered to distract you from your insecurities. If he can make you as ravenous as him, you'll have no time to think about what's bothering you.
I feel like I need to say that I do not condone self-harm or eating disorders as someone who has gone through both. Please take care of yourself and, if you're struggling, try talking to someone.
One more thing, I have gotten multiple questions about if and when people are allowed to ask for requests. Here's what I say: if my inbox is open, request to your hearts content!
That being said, I'm sorry to all my insecure honeybuns out there. Trust me, I empathize. Remember that you are beautiful/handsome, stunning, and so very gorgeous. Be gentle with yourself, have an amazing day, and I'll see you next time! (Hopefully.)
The darkness becomes much darker for you when things trail on. You still haven’t been able to get to your baby.
Part 29 <- Part 30 -> Part 31
<<< Back to master list >>>
Summary - Eddie Gluskin was transported to a new facility after being found at Mount Massive Asylum. You take it upon yourself to know more about the threatening man under tight restraints. Who knows, maybe you and he hit it off?
Tags - Dead dove do not eat, Mentions Canon-typical violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, reader is a psychiatrist, Manipulation, Bigoted view on psychiatric patients, Eddie's the patient, I am not a psychiatrist, dub-con, Derogatory Names, Survival Mode, Heavy Petting, Dubious Consent, Choking, p in v sex, Creampie, Physical Abuse, Sedation, Smut, Aftercare, Bitchiness/Gossip, Sexual Harassment, Male OC, Minor Side Characters, age gap, Teasing/Making fun of others, inhumane treatment, Angst, Anguish, Sensitive topics like Abortion/Unplanned pregnancy/Aftermath of sexual assault & Dubious consent, Sex Toys, Labour/Contractions, Disembowelment, Religious Undertones, References to burning alive, Crucifixion, Eye Gouging, Mentions of Breeding/Sexual abuse/Infertility/Contraception/Cream pie/Unplanned pregnancy, Eddie Gluskin canon behaviour, Graphic depictions of Blood/Gore/Murder/Torture/Violence, Mentions of Abortion/Rape/Bodily fluids/Urine/Faeces/Fat shaming/Premature labour/Adoption, Female OC (side character), Graphic depictions of Labour/Delivery/Afterbirth/Rejecting the baby/Bonding/Breastfeeding/Neglect, Legitimacy, Public sex/Car sex/Protected sex/Unprotected sex/Grinding/Riding/Baby trapping/Reproductive coercion, Chauvinism/Infidelity/Coercion/Gaslighting/References to SA/Mentions of STI's, Adoption process, Nightmares, Throat cutting, Processing Trauma, Post-partum bleeding/Implied child abuse & neglect/Referenced Child kidnapping, Threats of non-con/Self-mutilation/Faeces/Non-con masturbation, Body horror/Burning alive/Arson/Tasering/Crushing/De-gloving/Suffocation/Poisoning/Strangulation, Stitched together body/Body horror/Suffocation
A/N - Hey all, Ive adjusted the tags so PLEASE CHECK THEM OVER BEFORE PROCEEDING thank you <3 Here's one more today 🤭
“Okay… Go, go, go-stop-wait a minute.”
There was no sign of Eddie. He still wasn’t here. It had been hours. Maybe he wasn’t coming.
He had your baby and there was a strong chance he wasn’t coming. Murkoff could have gotten to him, they could have been waiting to snatch him when he returned with your food.
You were starving. Any time the silence consumed you, your stomach would grumble in retaliation. And if your stomach wasn’t trying to sabotage you, your swollen breasts were. Each movement and every shallow breath rubbed against your body, making every nerve want to scream. The sedation gun dug in, but that was the reminder of the chance you had, should Jeremy Blaire make an entrance again.
If it came to it, you’d defend yourself and would kill him if needed. You had a son. A baby who was unable to defend himself. But you could. Just the idea of jamming Jeremy with sedation made the journey around this hell a little bit clearer.
Michael got in front of you, arms out to stop you as someone was close. The scraping of a saw whirred in your ears.
“It’s him.” Michael trembled in front of you.
“Who is it? What's that noise, Michael?”
He hesitated, crouched down on the ground and made himself as small as possible. “It’s him… it’s the cannibal…”
“The-“ The saw ground and squeaked against metal, cringing your ears.
“I have to feed.” He said, but did not appear around the corner.
Michael pulled you away, taking you in the opposite direction, padding low along the floor to keep out of sight. His hands trembled in yours, loosely gripping, but filled with desperation to make sure he never lost sight of you.
No words. Nothing but a mutual understanding.
By the end of the hall, Michael spoke once the saw had quietened down in the distance. “He eats people… I’ve seen-I’ve seen him do it.”
You were certain Michael's mind was close to splintering. Having been taken as soon as he left you at your apartment, it was fascinating how bad just a few days had been for him. Your inner psychiatrist tried to take control to mediate your own mind. A coping mechanism of sorts. However, you didn’t know that. Opting for psychological medicine filled your guilt right up. It ate at you in the only way it knew how since it was flooded with maternal hormones.
“I’m so sorry, Michael.”
“Woah-hey, hey… don’t cry.”
Like you could help it. “I never meant any of this to happen. I’ve fucked up bad and you’ve suffered for it-“
“Shh.” His hand over your mouth was still warm, just dirty. “He'll hear you, and I can’t defend you all on my own.”
But the rumbling saw never came close, it dissipated into the background until the building's low autonomic groan was left. A rumbling that you were somehow used to already, reminding you of the facility.
Doors rattling, voices screaming, aggressively calling out to anyone who would listen. Wolf whistles. People eager to get out. Individual bodies piled in rooms watching brain dead television shows and static. This place wasn’t much different to the facility besides being much more archaic in its practices.
We haven’t come that far in hindsight. We still lock people up and hope they get better…
Psychology had always been a fascinating subject.
Not anymore.
“Is there a map anywhere? To tell us where we’re going?” You asked, following close behind Michael.
He held your hand close, wandering aimlessly down one hall, slowing down and looking at either end. “I don’t think so. This place is a goddamn maze. But I know there’s a coded door we have to get through. Maybe we can by pass it by trying a window or something. I don’t even know what floor we're on.”
“First floor.” You said. “Yeah… we’re on the first floor I think. I woke up when they were bringing me in. We didn't take stairs or an elevator. We must be on the first floor.”
“Okay. Well that rules out our window theory.” He wasn’t whispering anymore.
Had the sudden danger vanished? “Why? We should be able to fit through somewhere. It’s an old building.” You stopped keeping your voice down too.
“I overheard someone talk about how they welded more covers over the windows on the first floor. But maybe if we can get upstairs, we could go up to get down.”
It was a plan, however, that required you to spend more time in hell. The longer you spent away from Clyde, the more physically painful it became. Like your body knew how much he must have been suffering without your presence, your milk and comfort.
“Or we could bash the door open and stop the detour altogether. I need to get you out, Michael, I also need to get to my baby.”
“Then we bash the door down. Not sure what with, but in a place like this, I’m sure we'll find something.”
Michael started looking down the hallway, up and down and in between. You tried any doors that opened, he opened them too, cautiously with a low groan of the hinge before attempting to push his head through to see anything of notable value.
You peered through too, holding the swelling softness of your belly as it ached. “Anything. Anything heavy. Something to-“
What was that? That sound. The saw. The… Oh fuck.
Michael yanked you into a darkened room, shushing. The saw grew louder, echoing down the filthy hallway like it was hunger incarnate. Feet slapping along the floor grew louder, eking a predatory smell into the woodwork.
“Gorgeous… Just the smell. Clots and iron.”
From the light of the doorway, you saw. The blood had trickled down your thighs by now, almost down to your dusty, torn up feet. “Oh no… he can smell me.”
Could a man really have that good of a sense of smell? You recalled your first day with Eddie, meeting him in that room restrained like an animal. He sensed you before you had even opened the door.
“Maybe I can lead him away, and you can try the door.”
Michael turned, his features barely visible. “No. Are you insane? You have the baby to worry about. What if that maniac catches you? Eddie will have my head. He’ll kill me-He’ll do worse than kill me, he’ll pulverise me.”
You couldn't say for certain he wouldn't in honesty. Getting caught wasn't an option. “I got you into this, Michael. Let me put it right. I might be able to lead him away without even seeing me.”
“The meat is mine when I sink my teeth into it.” The man was closer with his roaring saw knuckles deep between each syllable.
Michael hesitated, peeking his head out a fraction and snuck right back over to you. “Okay… c’mon. I have an idea.”
To the back of the room, you followed him to a coffee table against the back wall. “What is it?”
“An opportunity.” He snatched the cardboard box full of books from the coffee table, pushing it to the front and pointing at the empty space. “But… Holy crap my heart is pounding. My heart it’s… if he gets me.“
“No, he won’t. He won’t because you’ll go nowhere near him, right?” Somehow the whispering and pause was louder than the saw. “Right?”
The man drew nearer, stalking around, opening doors Michael had done previously. “Think you’re so clever, hiding from me.”
Michael pointed under the table. “Get in there, get down low under the table and stay out of sight. I’ll get the coded door open. Just… I have to do one thing that’ll be totally out of the blue.”
You understood his out of character behaviour. You’d be erratic too if you had seen what he had in the short time he had been here.
Still, you couldn’t help but ask. “What do you mean-“
Michael held your shoulders with a softness you’d never experienced with him. He leant in and kissed your cheek so delicately, it was as though he had never done it.
“I’ve always had a soft spot for you.” He said. “And I want you to get out. You have to get out for your baby. So please... Stay here… I just… this is so fucked up.”
“Michael-“
“Don’t. Just think of me.” Michael turned for the door, ignoring you completely, dipping his head out around the open door.
“Michael wait-“
“Here-Here, Here, you big dickhead!” He threw his hands up, waving them as though signalling a car to hitch hike. “Come get me!”
“Michael!”
He either didn’t hear or ignored you entirely. “Look at me! Look at me over here-come get me!”
The saw roared towards the door and Michael bolted away from it, leading the man down another hallway. “There you are!”
“Oh my god… oh my… fuck.” So what… you just had to hide under this coffee table until he came back? How could you leave him like that? Your conscience forced you onto your knees at least, quivering like a leaf covered in your own blood. “How could I even-“
“There she is!” A thick hand gripped your ankle so that it burned as it pulled you back from the coffee table.
There was nothing to say, so you just held your breath. Because if you didn’t, you’d scream. It was the men from before, the harsh grip reminded you too. Their voices, deep and scratchy like gravel, laughing at the way you flailed your other leg about as they pulled you out of half-hiding. The other men waited by the doorframe, leaning arrogantly while you were assaulted.
“Ah man, I really thought she’d squeal.”
“You owe me twen’y bucks.”
“Fuck.”
The man holding you had strength that you thought could rival Eddie. His grip burned, the carpet burned as you were dragged across it.
“Wait, wait! Don’t take me now-you have to get Michael. Save him.” If that man got a hold of him. Well, Michael said so himself. That man would eat him. "You have to save him!"
“Manera’s hungry.” He laughed, yanking you up from the floor completely unaware of your lowered pain threshold after trauma. “He’ll keep him occupied for a little while. Mr Blaire wants to see you.”
“No, no, listen to me-you have to listen to me, that man will kill him. You have to stop him before he kills him! Michael shouldn’t be here-“
“He’s very surprised you lasted this long without bumping into any of his monsters. He wants to congratulate you.”
He ignored you, they both ignored you. Dragging you out of the room like last night's garbage. You were stunned, speechless, almost unsure if any of this was even happening.
“Yeah, something like that.”
But what made it real, was seeing Jeremy Blaire’s smug face, and the fact that no one had found the sedation gun yet. “There she is. I was beginning to wonder where you were.”
“Found the little mouse hiding under a table, Mr. Blaire.” One of them said, pushing you down to your knees with an eager push. “She won’t get very far doing that.”
All the air left the room. “Oh my god…”
Because what made it real, was seeing another vile globe in the middle of the room. Part of you hoped he was bluffing, but seeing the morphogenic engine even closer than before was enough to upset anyone’s stomach.
“No, she won’t.” Jeremy smiled, far to saccharine to enjoy. He pointed to the engine and looked back with that condescending smugness. “You know what this is, so we don’t have to get into specifics.”
Specifics? They wanted to throw you into the blender. “It’s that morphogenetic engine bullshit you allowed into the facility. It was sat in there like some twisted museum of curiosities.”
It was here where you struggled in their grip, your body naturally trying to repel itself away from the glass ball of death.
“While that may be, it wasn’t out of service. So it wouldn’t be in a museum. No, it’s more like a revolving door. You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? Two men on the go. A spider with two flies, undecided of which fat, juicy fly to eat first. Poor Charles succumbed first. And now Gluskin is facing the consequences of your actions.”
Just the mere mention of his name shoved you into unanticipated aggression. “Eddie’s coming for me. And when he does, then you’ll see.”
Jeremy sighed, shaking his head dismissively. “Well… let’s get on to other things, hm?” He froze, his mouth open and closed. Then opened again to say, “you know what, Agent?”
“What’s that, Mr. Blaire?”
He tapped his chin skulking towards you with uninterrupted eye contact. “Since all of the women were sent away at Mount Massive, it got me thinking… I wonder how a post-partum mom fares in the engine?”
“No-No, no, no! Don’t put me in that thing!”
"Maybe it’ll do what it did before, maybe something different.” He waited, looking around the room for something obvious. “What are you waiting for? I need your consent. Yes… are you sure? Okay then. You hear that, agents? She wants to be the first female patient for the Morphogenic engine programme since we sent all the others away.”
“Yes Mr. Blaire. I heard it.”
“That’s excellent, Agent, so get the engine ready.”
“Yes, Mr. Blaire.” One let go and walked past you.
This was your chance to struggle. So you did. “Just wait until I get out of here and blow this thing wide open. You’ll be sorry!”
Jeremy folded his arms, his disappointed glare was lost on you. “And that’s why Charles refused you access no matter how badly that cute piece of ass pleaded with him.”
He stalked towards you, arms still folded, eyes trained on you like a feral dog. “Always the bridesmaid and never the bride… you could have had such a bright future with Murkoff. Shame.” Kneeling down, he placed a hand on you. “You could still have that, y’know? I’m sure Charles would be delighted to see your change of heart after what you did to him.”
“Charles is dead.”
“Is he?”
You hesitated, noting how straightforward Jeremy was. It was a seed of doubt that had no place inside your head. “…Yes. I saw him die. There was… There was nothing left of him
He grinned, this time it wasn't smug exactly. You could only describe it as true excitement. “Agents, why don’t you bring Murkoff's pet out for our company here? I’m sure she’d like to say that to his face.”
“Yes, Mr. Blaire.”
Two men you hadn’t seen walked off towards a door in the corner. It was more like a cage, or something a zoo would utilise to release the lions first thing in the morning.
“What do you…”
“Y’know, this is the part I’ve come to love.” He placed an arrogant hand on your shoulder for some twisted act of comfort.
The door lifted, clattering at the top and locked in place. You couldn’t quite make out what that noise was. A groaning, slapping, possibly crying. Painful; it sounded so painful. Sloppy. Squelching in the dark until it found the light.
It, yes it, crawled out of the door, dragging its belly. “What the fuck is that thing?!”
Jeremy gripped your face to make you look at him. “Come on now, don’t be rude. You don’t recognise him?”
Of course you didn’t. This almost-homogenous blob slid out of the doorway and crawled around the floor. The agents stood back and kicked it away if it got too close.
“It’s Charles.” Jeremy said. “I thought you two knew each other on a… personal level. But don’t worry, he still has no backbone.”
It had no fucking eyes. Its legs stuck out the back, only barely pushing itself along. No way that was Charles. There was nothing left of him. Its body had been crudely stitched together, weeping red lines crisscrossed over the entire shapeless blob. It was adorned with tuffs of hair and teeth sticking out of random pockets of skin crusted with blood.
“Get one of the freaks, let’s show our guest of honour just how much the cookie crumbles.”
“This isn’t right…”
“It’s him alright. I wouldn’t get too close though.” Jeremy held you there, his harsh grip pressing into your jaw with seemingly no effort.
You couldn’t inject him here with all these people. You felt for the sedation gun anyway, ready to use it at a moment's notice once your attention wasn’t on that thing in the corner. Just the man they dragged into the room.
It was terrifying.
“Get off me-please don’t put me in that thing! I know what it did to Billy! Stop! STOP!” The agents dragged him closer, dressed in the same uniform as you.
He froze as soon as he saw the thing laying on the floor. “What the hell is that?! No! PLEASE NO!”
Jeremy didn’t stand. “Ah, Peter. You’ve been touching yourself outside of the bedroom again”
One of the agents kicked the frightened man’s knees until he was down. “He was doin’ it again when we found him, Mr. Blaire.”
He tutted, letting you go to parade his ego around the room. “You’ve been very naughty. And Charles here, well he hasn’t had anyone to love since the baby mama here left him.” He pointed right at you. “Why don’t you satisfy your urges right now?”
Your eyes welled. Is he going to make that man… just like before. Despite what you held for Eddie, you swore to yourself no one would touch you like that again where you had no choice and everything overwhelmingly came flooding back.
Helplessness. Self preservation. Your hand shook on the sedation gun out of pure fear. I can’t let anyone touch me like that again.
The man froze and watched you, eyed you with precision along your body. “Her?…”
Please… I can’t let that happen again.
Jeremy chuckled, and it morphed into something energetic. A joke no one else understood. “Her? No. Peter, your humour is starting to show. No, I mean him.”
Pointing to the pulsating blob on the floor that had moved maybe a foot across, leaving a pile of blood on its tracks. Skid marks if it were a car, perfectly parallel.
Peter writhed about in the agent's grip, trying to stand up during a flood. “N-No. No! I-I’m okay I wanna go back to my cell-let me go back to my cell!”
Walking back over, Jeremy stood behind you like he was presenting you to a grand jury. “Come on, Peter. This is your therapy now. Might as well trust in it. Therapy does wonders for the mind.”
The agents held him down flat on the floor. He was crying, you always hated it when they cried. “What are you going to do to him?” You never did have a chance to let that sweet breath of relief once you knew you weren't in the firing line.
You were just next in line.
“Watch and see. Spoilers are dreadful.”
The blob slid over his toes first, crawling up his legs as he screamed. It was more like tripping and shambling over something that wasn’t flat. Again, it left a stream of blood behind it, groaning and whining in orchestral horror. Screams, chokes, blood-curdling sounds you would never forget. You thought at first that it was consuming him. Possibly eating its way into his belly, or potentially burrowing away to lay eggs with something monstrous. Not matter how much Jeremy lied and said this was a human being, you could not believe it.
Charles was dead. There was nothing left of him.
This? This was a creation that defied evolution.
It kept moving up, there was nowhere else to look. Not when it moved over his neck and face until his cries muffled. They were still going. Still right there and no one was doing anything about it. Still screaming. Still conscious. Still alive. And that’s where it stopped, right over his head and ignored his limbs trying to move from under it. No eyes anywhere you could see, and it just cried along with its victim.
“He’s… He’s dying. Someone help him.” You couldn’t believe it yourself.
Murkoff was worse than evil. It truly was hell.
“Please.” You begged but couldn’t stop looking. “Please!”
He was still screaming, surely getting crushed and aware of everything. Every muscle contraction and warm roll of skin pressing down on his chest. Every lost breath each time he breathed out.
“He’s dying-Stop it… stop it. STOP IT!”
Jeremy remained where he was just as the others did. “Of course, Charles isn’t perfect. We tried. And with such little time too.”
You did your very best to push Jeremy away to do... something, you hadn’t quite figured that part out yet. “You’re sick. You’re fucking sick!”
He snatched you back before you even took a knee from the floor. His fingered pinched so hard you sobbed. “You keep this up and I’ll let that blob do whatever it wants to you and I’ll hold you down myself… it still has working crown jewels, I made sure of it. Maybe it’ll knock you up again if we're lucky.”
The searing pain through your post-partum body kept you still, he did not let go and watched the man stop moving and his screams of terror die out. “I know… I know, I was shocked about it myself. But at Murkoff, we do all we can to keep our staff alive.”
There was no stopping your tears, your heartbreak. It showed just how much you craved Eddie’s protection… His embrace of all things. “This is barbaric… He was… there was nothing left of Charles. I saw the engine-god! He’s fucking dead!”
“Okay.” Jeremy chuckled. “You got me. It’s not all Charles, but there’s plenty of him we stuck back together. I’m pretty sure you’d never know the difference.”
“Kill… me…” It cried out suddenly, gasping for breath out of a hole you couldn’t see.
Jeremy let go of you over your fearful screams and wide eyed shock. “I hate it when they scream right by me. Go. Put her in the engine-”
“Wait, wait-WAIT!” You lunged for his leg, kneading your way up to his suit jacket and tugged on it in one last chance to escape it. “I have one thing to say, please, please, I can’t go without knowing one thing!”
If this didn’t work, then your last thought would be your baby. I just hope he doesn’t think I abandoned him. I hope Eddie doesn’t think that too. But this surely had to work. One chance. Too stunned to speak to do anything about it. If Eddie was correct and witnessed this, then it should work on Jeremy too.
He didn’t help you up, but looked down at you because his ego dictated it. “Go on. Last words, or whatever.”
You gripped it, tugging on it, praying you could pull it on him fast enough. “Go to hell!"
It would become one question you’d ask yourself for the rest of your life. How did you inject Jeremy Blaire with that sedation gun so quickly? No one anticipated it, but the sedation gun was there in your underwear the entire time. Idiots.
After its injection, the effects were almost instant. Jeremy didn’t even get a chance to respond. He grasped at his neck, a look of fear across his face for the first time, spluttering bloody syllables and vowels you didn’t bother to understand. The agents ran over, pushing past you to watch their boss bleed from his eyes and cough up his lungs.
It was imperative not to panic at the idea that you had just potentially killed someone, not to freak out and take their attention away when the blob shambled past you. If you made noise louder than Jeremy’s pained gargling, it was all for naught.
So, before the agents could set their sights on you for punishment, you covered your mouth and ran out of the door away from the consequences and back into the asylum to find Michael.
Hopefully you’d find Eddie on the way. And in extension, your baby.
Part 29 <- Part 30 -> Part 31
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Tag list - @tiramisubi @cactus13-rolloflammesimp @giant606-blog
The darkness becomes much darker for you when things trail on. You still haven’t been able to get to your baby.
Part 29 <- Part 30 -> Part 31
<<< Back to master list >>>
Summary - Eddie Gluskin was transported to a new facility after being found at Mount Massive Asylum. You take it upon yourself to know more about the threatening man under tight restraints. Who knows, maybe you and he hit it off?
Tags - Dead dove do not eat, Mentions Canon-typical violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, reader is a psychiatrist, Manipulation, Bigoted view on psychiatric patients, Eddie's the patient, I am not a psychiatrist, dub-con, Derogatory Names, Survival Mode, Heavy Petting, Dubious Consent, Choking, p in v sex, Creampie, Physical Abuse, Sedation, Smut, Aftercare, Bitchiness/Gossip, Sexual Harassment, Male OC, Minor Side Characters, age gap, Teasing/Making fun of others, inhumane treatment, Angst, Anguish, Sensitive topics like Abortion/Unplanned pregnancy/Aftermath of sexual assault & Dubious consent, Sex Toys, Labour/Contractions, Disembowelment, Religious Undertones, References to burning alive, Crucifixion, Eye Gouging, Mentions of Breeding/Sexual abuse/Infertility/Contraception/Cream pie/Unplanned pregnancy, Eddie Gluskin canon behaviour, Graphic depictions of Blood/Gore/Murder/Torture/Violence, Mentions of Abortion/Rape/Bodily fluids/Urine/Faeces/Fat shaming/Premature labour/Adoption, Female OC (side character), Graphic depictions of Labour/Delivery/Afterbirth/Rejecting the baby/Bonding/Breastfeeding/Neglect, Legitimacy, Public sex/Car sex/Protected sex/Unprotected sex/Grinding/Riding/Baby trapping/Reproductive coercion, Chauvinism/Infidelity/Coercion/Gaslighting/References to SA/Mentions of STI's, Adoption process, Nightmares, Throat cutting, Processing Trauma, Post-partum bleeding/Implied child abuse & neglect/Referenced Child kidnapping, Threats of non-con/Self-mutilation/Faeces/Non-con masturbation, Body horror/Burning alive/Arson/Tasering/Crushing/De-gloving/Suffocation/Poisoning/Strangulation, Stitched together body/Body horror/Suffocation
A/N - Hey all, Ive adjusted the tags so PLEASE CHECK THEM OVER BEFORE PROCEEDING thank you <3 Here's one more today 🤭
“Okay… Go, go, go-stop-wait a minute.”
There was no sign of Eddie. He still wasn’t here. It had been hours. Maybe he wasn’t coming.
He had your baby and there was a strong chance he wasn’t coming. Murkoff could have gotten to him, they could have been waiting to snatch him when he returned with your food.
You were starving. Any time the silence consumed you, your stomach would grumble in retaliation. And if your stomach wasn’t trying to sabotage you, your swollen breasts were. Each movement and every shallow breath rubbed against your body, making every nerve want to scream. The sedation gun dug in, but that was the reminder of the chance you had, should Jeremy Blaire make an entrance again.
If it came to it, you’d defend yourself and would kill him if needed. You had a son. A baby who was unable to defend himself. But you could. Just the idea of jamming Jeremy with sedation made the journey around this hell a little bit clearer.
Michael got in front of you, arms out to stop you as someone was close. The scraping of a saw whirred in your ears.
“It’s him.” Michael trembled in front of you.
“Who is it? What's that noise, Michael?”
He hesitated, crouched down on the ground and made himself as small as possible. “It’s him… it’s the cannibal…”
“The-“ The saw ground and squeaked against metal, cringing your ears.
“I have to feed.” He said, but did not appear around the corner.
Michael pulled you away, taking you in the opposite direction, padding low along the floor to keep out of sight. His hands trembled in yours, loosely gripping, but filled with desperation to make sure he never lost sight of you.
No words. Nothing but a mutual understanding.
By the end of the hall, Michael spoke once the saw had quietened down in the distance. “He eats people… I’ve seen-I’ve seen him do it.”
You were certain Michael's mind was close to splintering. Having been taken as soon as he left you at your apartment, it was fascinating how bad just a few days had been for him. Your inner psychiatrist tried to take control to mediate your own mind. A coping mechanism of sorts. However, you didn’t know that. Opting for psychological medicine filled your guilt right up. It ate at you in the only way it knew how since it was flooded with maternal hormones.
“I’m so sorry, Michael.”
“Woah-hey, hey… don’t cry.”
Like you could help it. “I never meant any of this to happen. I’ve fucked up bad and you’ve suffered for it-“
“Shh.” His hand over your mouth was still warm, just dirty. “He'll hear you, and I can’t defend you all on my own.”
But the rumbling saw never came close, it dissipated into the background until the building's low autonomic groan was left. A rumbling that you were somehow used to already, reminding you of the facility.
Doors rattling, voices screaming, aggressively calling out to anyone who would listen. Wolf whistles. People eager to get out. Individual bodies piled in rooms watching brain dead television shows and static. This place wasn’t much different to the facility besides being much more archaic in its practices.
We haven’t come that far in hindsight. We still lock people up and hope they get better…
Psychology had always been a fascinating subject.
Not anymore.
“Is there a map anywhere? To tell us where we’re going?” You asked, following close behind Michael.
He held your hand close, wandering aimlessly down one hall, slowing down and looking at either end. “I don’t think so. This place is a goddamn maze. But I know there’s a coded door we have to get through. Maybe we can by pass it by trying a window or something. I don’t even know what floor we're on.”
“First floor.” You said. “Yeah… we’re on the first floor I think. I woke up when they were bringing me in. We didn't take stairs or an elevator. We must be on the first floor.”
“Okay. Well that rules out our window theory.” He wasn’t whispering anymore.
Had the sudden danger vanished? “Why? We should be able to fit through somewhere. It’s an old building.” You stopped keeping your voice down too.
“I overheard someone talk about how they welded more covers over the windows on the first floor. But maybe if we can get upstairs, we could go up to get down.”
It was a plan, however, that required you to spend more time in hell. The longer you spent away from Clyde, the more physically painful it became. Like your body knew how much he must have been suffering without your presence, your milk and comfort.
“Or we could bash the door open and stop the detour altogether. I need to get you out, Michael, I also need to get to my baby.”
“Then we bash the door down. Not sure what with, but in a place like this, I’m sure we'll find something.”
Michael started looking down the hallway, up and down and in between. You tried any doors that opened, he opened them too, cautiously with a low groan of the hinge before attempting to push his head through to see anything of notable value.
You peered through too, holding the swelling softness of your belly as it ached. “Anything. Anything heavy. Something to-“
What was that? That sound. The saw. The… Oh fuck.
Michael yanked you into a darkened room, shushing. The saw grew louder, echoing down the filthy hallway like it was hunger incarnate. Feet slapping along the floor grew louder, eking a predatory smell into the woodwork.
“Gorgeous… Just the smell. Clots and iron.”
From the light of the doorway, you saw. The blood had trickled down your thighs by now, almost down to your dusty, torn up feet. “Oh no… he can smell me.”
Could a man really have that good of a sense of smell? You recalled your first day with Eddie, meeting him in that room restrained like an animal. He sensed you before you had even opened the door.
“Maybe I can lead him away, and you can try the door.”
Michael turned, his features barely visible. “No. Are you insane? You have the baby to worry about. What if that maniac catches you? Eddie will have my head. He’ll kill me-He’ll do worse than kill me, he’ll pulverise me.”
You couldn't say for certain he wouldn't in honesty. Getting caught wasn't an option. “I got you into this, Michael. Let me put it right. I might be able to lead him away without even seeing me.”
“The meat is mine when I sink my teeth into it.” The man was closer with his roaring saw knuckles deep between each syllable.
Michael hesitated, peeking his head out a fraction and snuck right back over to you. “Okay… c’mon. I have an idea.”
To the back of the room, you followed him to a coffee table against the back wall. “What is it?”
“An opportunity.” He snatched the cardboard box full of books from the coffee table, pushing it to the front and pointing at the empty space. “But… Holy crap my heart is pounding. My heart it’s… if he gets me.“
“No, he won’t. He won’t because you’ll go nowhere near him, right?” Somehow the whispering and pause was louder than the saw. “Right?”
The man drew nearer, stalking around, opening doors Michael had done previously. “Think you’re so clever, hiding from me.”
Michael pointed under the table. “Get in there, get down low under the table and stay out of sight. I’ll get the coded door open. Just… I have to do one thing that’ll be totally out of the blue.”
You understood his out of character behaviour. You’d be erratic too if you had seen what he had in the short time he had been here.
Still, you couldn’t help but ask. “What do you mean-“
Michael held your shoulders with a softness you’d never experienced with him. He leant in and kissed your cheek so delicately, it was as though he had never done it.
“I’ve always had a soft spot for you.” He said. “And I want you to get out. You have to get out for your baby. So please... Stay here… I just… this is so fucked up.”
“Michael-“
“Don’t. Just think of me.” Michael turned for the door, ignoring you completely, dipping his head out around the open door.
“Michael wait-“
“Here-Here, Here, you big dickhead!” He threw his hands up, waving them as though signalling a car to hitch hike. “Come get me!”
“Michael!”
He either didn’t hear or ignored you entirely. “Look at me! Look at me over here-come get me!”
The saw roared towards the door and Michael bolted away from it, leading the man down another hallway. “There you are!”
“Oh my god… oh my… fuck.” So what… you just had to hide under this coffee table until he came back? How could you leave him like that? Your conscience forced you onto your knees at least, quivering like a leaf covered in your own blood. “How could I even-“
“There she is!” A thick hand gripped your ankle so that it burned as it pulled you back from the coffee table.
There was nothing to say, so you just held your breath. Because if you didn’t, you’d scream. It was the men from before, the harsh grip reminded you too. Their voices, deep and scratchy like gravel, laughing at the way you flailed your other leg about as they pulled you out of half-hiding. The other men waited by the doorframe, leaning arrogantly while you were assaulted.
“Ah man, I really thought she’d squeal.”
“You owe me twen’y bucks.”
“Fuck.”
The man holding you had strength that you thought could rival Eddie. His grip burned, the carpet burned as you were dragged across it.
“Wait, wait! Don’t take me now-you have to get Michael. Save him.” If that man got a hold of him. Well, Michael said so himself. That man would eat him. "You have to save him!"
“Manera’s hungry.” He laughed, yanking you up from the floor completely unaware of your lowered pain threshold after trauma. “He’ll keep him occupied for a little while. Mr Blaire wants to see you.”
“No, no, listen to me-you have to listen to me, that man will kill him. You have to stop him before he kills him! Michael shouldn’t be here-“
“He’s very surprised you lasted this long without bumping into any of his monsters. He wants to congratulate you.”
He ignored you, they both ignored you. Dragging you out of the room like last night's garbage. You were stunned, speechless, almost unsure if any of this was even happening.
“Yeah, something like that.”
But what made it real, was seeing Jeremy Blaire’s smug face, and the fact that no one had found the sedation gun yet. “There she is. I was beginning to wonder where you were.”
“Found the little mouse hiding under a table, Mr. Blaire.” One of them said, pushing you down to your knees with an eager push. “She won’t get very far doing that.”
All the air left the room. “Oh my god…”
Because what made it real, was seeing another vile globe in the middle of the room. Part of you hoped he was bluffing, but seeing the morphogenic engine even closer than before was enough to upset anyone’s stomach.
“No, she won’t.” Jeremy smiled, far to saccharine to enjoy. He pointed to the engine and looked back with that condescending smugness. “You know what this is, so we don’t have to get into specifics.”
Specifics? They wanted to throw you into the blender. “It’s that morphogenetic engine bullshit you allowed into the facility. It was sat in there like some twisted museum of curiosities.”
It was here where you struggled in their grip, your body naturally trying to repel itself away from the glass ball of death.
“While that may be, it wasn’t out of service. So it wouldn’t be in a museum. No, it’s more like a revolving door. You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? Two men on the go. A spider with two flies, undecided of which fat, juicy fly to eat first. Poor Charles succumbed first. And now Gluskin is facing the consequences of your actions.”
Just the mere mention of his name shoved you into unanticipated aggression. “Eddie’s coming for me. And when he does, then you’ll see.”
Jeremy sighed, shaking his head dismissively. “Well… let’s get on to other things, hm?” He froze, his mouth open and closed. Then opened again to say, “you know what, Agent?”
“What’s that, Mr. Blaire?”
He tapped his chin skulking towards you with uninterrupted eye contact. “Since all of the women were sent away at Mount Massive, it got me thinking… I wonder how a post-partum mom fares in the engine?”
“No-No, no, no! Don’t put me in that thing!”
"Maybe it’ll do what it did before, maybe something different.” He waited, looking around the room for something obvious. “What are you waiting for? I need your consent. Yes… are you sure? Okay then. You hear that, agents? She wants to be the first female patient for the Morphogenic engine programme since we sent all the others away.”
“Yes Mr. Blaire. I heard it.”
“That’s excellent, Agent, so get the engine ready.”
“Yes, Mr. Blaire.” One let go and walked past you.
This was your chance to struggle. So you did. “Just wait until I get out of here and blow this thing wide open. You’ll be sorry!”
Jeremy folded his arms, his disappointed glare was lost on you. “And that’s why Charles refused you access no matter how badly that cute piece of ass pleaded with him.”
He stalked towards you, arms still folded, eyes trained on you like a feral dog. “Always the bridesmaid and never the bride… you could have had such a bright future with Murkoff. Shame.” Kneeling down, he placed a hand on you. “You could still have that, y’know? I’m sure Charles would be delighted to see your change of heart after what you did to him.”
“Charles is dead.”
“Is he?”
You hesitated, noting how straightforward Jeremy was. It was a seed of doubt that had no place inside your head. “…Yes. I saw him die. There was… There was nothing left of him
He grinned, this time it wasn't smug exactly. You could only describe it as true excitement. “Agents, why don’t you bring Murkoff's pet out for our company here? I’m sure she’d like to say that to his face.”
“Yes, Mr. Blaire.”
Two men you hadn’t seen walked off towards a door in the corner. It was more like a cage, or something a zoo would utilise to release the lions first thing in the morning.
“What do you…”
“Y’know, this is the part I’ve come to love.” He placed an arrogant hand on your shoulder for some twisted act of comfort.
The door lifted, clattering at the top and locked in place. You couldn’t quite make out what that noise was. A groaning, slapping, possibly crying. Painful; it sounded so painful. Sloppy. Squelching in the dark until it found the light.
It, yes it, crawled out of the door, dragging its belly. “What the fuck is that thing?!”
Jeremy gripped your face to make you look at him. “Come on now, don’t be rude. You don’t recognise him?”
Of course you didn’t. This almost-homogenous blob slid out of the doorway and crawled around the floor. The agents stood back and kicked it away if it got too close.
“It’s Charles.” Jeremy said. “I thought you two knew each other on a… personal level. But don’t worry, he still has no backbone.”
It had no fucking eyes. Its legs stuck out the back, only barely pushing itself along. No way that was Charles. There was nothing left of him. Its body had been crudely stitched together, weeping red lines crisscrossed over the entire shapeless blob. It was adorned with tuffs of hair and teeth sticking out of random pockets of skin crusted with blood.
“Get one of the freaks, let’s show our guest of honour just how much the cookie crumbles.”
“This isn’t right…”
“It’s him alright. I wouldn’t get too close though.” Jeremy held you there, his harsh grip pressing into your jaw with seemingly no effort.
You couldn’t inject him here with all these people. You felt for the sedation gun anyway, ready to use it at a moment's notice once your attention wasn’t on that thing in the corner. Just the man they dragged into the room.
It was terrifying.
“Get off me-please don’t put me in that thing! I know what it did to Billy! Stop! STOP!” The agents dragged him closer, dressed in the same uniform as you.
He froze as soon as he saw the thing laying on the floor. “What the hell is that?! No! PLEASE NO!”
Jeremy didn’t stand. “Ah, Peter. You’ve been touching yourself outside of the bedroom again”
One of the agents kicked the frightened man’s knees until he was down. “He was doin’ it again when we found him, Mr. Blaire.”
He tutted, letting you go to parade his ego around the room. “You’ve been very naughty. And Charles here, well he hasn’t had anyone to love since the baby mama here left him.” He pointed right at you. “Why don’t you satisfy your urges right now?”
Your eyes welled. Is he going to make that man… just like before. Despite what you held for Eddie, you swore to yourself no one would touch you like that again where you had no choice and everything overwhelmingly came flooding back.
Helplessness. Self preservation. Your hand shook on the sedation gun out of pure fear. I can’t let anyone touch me like that again.
The man froze and watched you, eyed you with precision along your body. “Her?…”
Please… I can’t let that happen again.
Jeremy chuckled, and it morphed into something energetic. A joke no one else understood. “Her? No. Peter, your humour is starting to show. No, I mean him.”
Pointing to the pulsating blob on the floor that had moved maybe a foot across, leaving a pile of blood on its tracks. Skid marks if it were a car, perfectly parallel.
Peter writhed about in the agent's grip, trying to stand up during a flood. “N-No. No! I-I’m okay I wanna go back to my cell-let me go back to my cell!”
Walking back over, Jeremy stood behind you like he was presenting you to a grand jury. “Come on, Peter. This is your therapy now. Might as well trust in it. Therapy does wonders for the mind.”
The agents held him down flat on the floor. He was crying, you always hated it when they cried. “What are you going to do to him?” You never did have a chance to let that sweet breath of relief once you knew you weren't in the firing line.
You were just next in line.
“Watch and see. Spoilers are dreadful.”
The blob slid over his toes first, crawling up his legs as he screamed. It was more like tripping and shambling over something that wasn’t flat. Again, it left a stream of blood behind it, groaning and whining in orchestral horror. Screams, chokes, blood-curdling sounds you would never forget. You thought at first that it was consuming him. Possibly eating its way into his belly, or potentially burrowing away to lay eggs with something monstrous. Not matter how much Jeremy lied and said this was a human being, you could not believe it.
Charles was dead. There was nothing left of him.
This? This was a creation that defied evolution.
It kept moving up, there was nowhere else to look. Not when it moved over his neck and face until his cries muffled. They were still going. Still right there and no one was doing anything about it. Still screaming. Still conscious. Still alive. And that’s where it stopped, right over his head and ignored his limbs trying to move from under it. No eyes anywhere you could see, and it just cried along with its victim.
“He’s… He’s dying. Someone help him.” You couldn’t believe it yourself.
Murkoff was worse than evil. It truly was hell.
“Please.” You begged but couldn’t stop looking. “Please!”
He was still screaming, surely getting crushed and aware of everything. Every muscle contraction and warm roll of skin pressing down on his chest. Every lost breath each time he breathed out.
“He’s dying-Stop it… stop it. STOP IT!”
Jeremy remained where he was just as the others did. “Of course, Charles isn’t perfect. We tried. And with such little time too.”
You did your very best to push Jeremy away to do... something, you hadn’t quite figured that part out yet. “You’re sick. You’re fucking sick!”
He snatched you back before you even took a knee from the floor. His fingered pinched so hard you sobbed. “You keep this up and I’ll let that blob do whatever it wants to you and I’ll hold you down myself… it still has working crown jewels, I made sure of it. Maybe it’ll knock you up again if we're lucky.”
The searing pain through your post-partum body kept you still, he did not let go and watched the man stop moving and his screams of terror die out. “I know… I know, I was shocked about it myself. But at Murkoff, we do all we can to keep our staff alive.”
There was no stopping your tears, your heartbreak. It showed just how much you craved Eddie’s protection… His embrace of all things. “This is barbaric… He was… there was nothing left of Charles. I saw the engine-god! He’s fucking dead!”
“Okay.” Jeremy chuckled. “You got me. It’s not all Charles, but there’s plenty of him we stuck back together. I’m pretty sure you’d never know the difference.”
“Kill… me…” It cried out suddenly, gasping for breath out of a hole you couldn’t see.
Jeremy let go of you over your fearful screams and wide eyed shock. “I hate it when they scream right by me. Go. Put her in the engine-”
“Wait, wait-WAIT!” You lunged for his leg, kneading your way up to his suit jacket and tugged on it in one last chance to escape it. “I have one thing to say, please, please, I can’t go without knowing one thing!”
If this didn’t work, then your last thought would be your baby. I just hope he doesn’t think I abandoned him. I hope Eddie doesn’t think that too. But this surely had to work. One chance. Too stunned to speak to do anything about it. If Eddie was correct and witnessed this, then it should work on Jeremy too.
He didn’t help you up, but looked down at you because his ego dictated it. “Go on. Last words, or whatever.”
You gripped it, tugging on it, praying you could pull it on him fast enough. “Go to hell!"
It would become one question you’d ask yourself for the rest of your life. How did you inject Jeremy Blaire with that sedation gun so quickly? No one anticipated it, but the sedation gun was there in your underwear the entire time. Idiots.
After its injection, the effects were almost instant. Jeremy didn’t even get a chance to respond. He grasped at his neck, a look of fear across his face for the first time, spluttering bloody syllables and vowels you didn’t bother to understand. The agents ran over, pushing past you to watch their boss bleed from his eyes and cough up his lungs.
It was imperative not to panic at the idea that you had just potentially killed someone, not to freak out and take their attention away when the blob shambled past you. If you made noise louder than Jeremy’s pained gargling, it was all for naught.
So, before the agents could set their sights on you for punishment, you covered your mouth and ran out of the door away from the consequences and back into the asylum to find Michael.
Hopefully you’d find Eddie on the way. And in extension, your baby.
Part 29 <- Part 30 -> Part 31
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Tag list - @tiramisubi @cactus13-rolloflammesimp @giant606-blog
Summary - Eddie Gluskin was transported to a new facility after being found at Mount Massive Asylum. You take it upon yourself to know more about the threatening man under tight restraints. Who knows, maybe you and he hit it off?
Tags - Dead dove do not eat, Mentions Canon-typical violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, reader is a psychiatrist, Manipulation, Bigoted view on psychiatric patients, Eddie's the patient, I am not a psychiatrist, dub-con, Derogatory Names, Survival Mode, Heavy Petting, Dubious Consent, Choking, p in v sex, Creampie, Physical Abuse, Sedation, Smut, Aftercare, Bitchiness/Gossip, Sexual Harassment, Male OC, Minor Side Characters, age gap, Teasing/Making fun of others, inhumane treatment, Angst, Anguish, Sensitive topics like Abortion/Unplanned pregnancy/Aftermath of sexual assault & Dubious consent, Sex Toys, Labour/Contractions, Disembowelment, Religious Undertones, References to burning alive, Crucifixion, Eye Gouging, Mentions of Breeding/Sexual abuse/Infertility/Contraception/Cream pie/Unplanned pregnancy, Eddie Gluskin canon behaviour, Graphic depictions of Blood/Gore/Murder/Torture/Violence, Mentions of Abortion/Rape/Bodily fluids/Urine/Faeces/Fat shaming/Premature labour/Adoption, Female OC (side character), Graphic depictions of Labour/Delivery/Afterbirth/Rejecting the baby/Bonding/Breastfeeding/Neglect, Legitimacy, Public sex/Car sex/Protected sex/Unprotected sex/Grinding/Riding/Baby trapping/Reproductive coercion, Chauvinism/Infidelity/Coercion/Gaslighting/References to SA/Mentions of STI's, Adoption process, Nightmares, Throat cutting, Processing Trauma, Post-partum bleeding/Implied child abuse & neglect/Referenced Child kidnapping, Threats of non-con/Self-mutilation/Faeces/Non-con masturbation, Body horror/Burning alive/Arson/Tasering/Crushing/De-gloving/Suffocation/Poisoning/Strangulation, Stitched together body
A/N - Hey all, Ive adjusted the tags so PLEASE CHECK THEM OVER BEFORE PROCEEDING thank you <3 Sorry for so much time between uploads, I'm still healing and planning a wedding 😅 I hope you enjoy!!
Eddie had reached the heart of the asylum. The atrium that divided what they wanted people to see and what they hid.
He recalled the first time he was dragged through Mount Massive’s doors, having been deemed insane over a few murders. They were violent, dragging him through the halls with batons to beat him with, black and blue like a festering bruise they tried to present him as. He was a different man back then, he didn’t have a wife and child to protect. A different man who now only murdered to keep his family safe, and not to satisfy his own urges.
Doing that would be deemed selfish, a father succumbing to his own sadistic needs when his child was there in his arms and his wife missing. Clyde slept in the sling against Eddie’s chest as he wandered through the halls, and had no idea of what his father was doing.
It was better that way.
There was barely anyone here, only static on televisions in abandoned rooms showing the whirring shapes to no one. The papers scattered on the floor were blank with no meaning or names indicating where they belonged. Just emptiness. Just hidden in plain view.
I should burn this place to the ground too.
Things would be better. Eddie’s life would be better. A life without Murkoff would be better. Leave it to beaver and the rest works out.
However, Eddie would be leaving the nuclear family to explore darker remedies to improve his family situation. And it lied beyond one electronic door guarded by a code.
“You know, Clyde. Sometimes to get through life, you have to brute force your way through to get what you want.” He picked up an out-of-date, empty fire extinguisher.
“Strength shows power. It means no one will mess with your father again.” He threw the extinguisher at the code pad, watching it spark and sizzle against the impact, some of the lights flickered out though one remained.
Eddie pushed against the door, it did not give in, clicking against a deadbolt. The thing was still holding on for dear life.
“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” He snatched the fire extinguisher from the floor, cradling Clyde against his chest who had not reacted.
The extinguisher lunged across the hallway towards the electronic pad and it completely shattered from the wall to the floor. Down the hall from an open door, Eddie heard laughing, cackling even. A man, a husky voiced man amused at nothing.
“Smash it-SMASH IT! The bastards get away and get away, and fuckin’ get away. Burn it-BURN THEM ALL HAHA!”
Eddie looked towards the door with an air of calm, but he never approached it, taking the route towards the door and into the darkness.
He kissed his son’s head and kept his voice low. “It’s alright to be afraid of the dark, son. You’re a boy… your father will keep you safe.”
As Clyde grew up, Eddie would transfer a wealth of advice that was born from hardships and experiences he would never allow his son to endure.
Though having his father afraid of the dark was one thing Eddie would never tell his son.
Darkness in a place like this had the consistency of a tar pit. A molten, bubbling cesspit, sucking souls dry for money. What good was money when it separated Eddie from his wife?
The only thing he was grateful for was bringing him closer to you. But he still wasn’t any closer to finding you.
It was far too risky to leave you in the front section of this asylum, letting you scream the place down and potentially get out. So they decided to use you as a trap, and it was working. Eddie stepped right through that door, feeling for the wall with his fingertips, breathing in the mustiness and mould of years of forgotten people and life stories.
“Monsters linger in the dark… but father will expel them.”
Eddie was plunged into darkness, only the warmth of his baby kept him grounded from being back in that place. A place where he almost lost his mind. A place where his family did not exist.
A place where monsters congregated-
“They’re at it again. Have to contain the filth…”
Eddie absorbed the heavy footsteps from the end of the hall. A solitary overhead light flickered, temporarily illuminating a figure. A huge figure, much bigger than Eddie.
“I remember you…” Eddie said quietly, almost holding his breath.
As far as he knew, the old military man had died. His curiosity took him closer to the light, yet he never stepped foot over the divide all the while The Soldier paced back and forth through the only functional light in the hall.
While Eddie did not engage with Mr. Walker-if his mind served correctly-he was aware of his appearance. But this man did not look how he did before. His appearance was ghastly, more so than before, covered in crude stitches and scars, old surgical staples buried in the scarred skin rejecting the metal. From this distance, his eyes looked different colours, and his skin had become discoloured and grey.
But he was still storming about like Eddie remembered, and still visibly flexed his muscles under the scarred skin like it would split. If Eddie did not have his child strapped to his bare chest, he might have gone in and given his temper a way to expel from his chest before it crushed it. He could have pulled him apart at his seams now, Murkoff did a terrible job of sticking him together.
Just what did they do?
Eddie might have won now he was damaged; no he would have. He would have expelled his energy too. However, a father knew when to pick his battles, and this was not it.
“Back in the maze with fucking rats. I don’t want cheese... All I see is red.” He paced past, and turned on a dime into the hall Eddie was standing in.
Feeling along the wall for a door or something to keep his distance, Eddie prayed that Clyde remained silently sleeping. He found a door handle and pulled on it, letting the dark room open with a soft click as heavy footsteps drew nearer.
“Can’t see blue anymore… Purple. Just red.” He was so close now, stomping and dragging about, mumbling to himself.
Most likely gibberish.
“They can’t get the woman… innocence has no place here.”
Eddie was crouching, but he shot up to his feet immediately. A woman. That must have been you. It must mean he had seen you, must have had some sort of interaction…
Oh no…
If he saw you, he would have touched you, unless at a distance. Unless he had been restrained. Despite his heart throbbing in his neck, Eddie held his breath and decided to listen, in case Walker revealed your whereabouts. He refused to think he had hurt you.
Because if he did. Eddie would place Clyde somewhere safe in this room and pull every stitch on that man’s body until he was unravelled like a poorly made sweater.
“Babies… casualties and bombs. It’ll contaminate them. Mother’s love can’t face it. It can’t leave again.” He walked past again. “She’s suffering. I know it. Covered in that sickness. Reunited. Mother and child-mother’s love… I can’t see love no more.”
Eddie’s fists clenched; they shook, they pleaded with him to attack. Mr. Walker knew something. He knew you were suffering somehow with no context. Were you suffering like Eddie was? Or was it something much more gut-wrenching?
“My little pig. A good distraction from the blood.” He disappeared back down the hallway, and Eddie was compelled to follow him at a distance.
He was shambling, down the hall unbeknownst to the other variant behind him. Variant… Eddie always hated that name. It lacked identity. Drove him crazy listening over and over again at the description of someone he wasn’t. Did Mr. Walker think that way?
It didn’t matter, it wasn’t like Eddie would be able to talk to him man-to-man. He couldn’t be reasoned with, Eddie knew that-
Clyde sneezed in his sleep.
Eddie froze, Walker halted too. Clyde settled back against his father’s chest like nothing had happened. Walker switched, animalistically fast, quicker than Eddie ever could.
“Who’s there?! Come out!”
How Eddie managed to duck out of the room and into the shadows, he’ll never know. The other door was locked. It wouldn’t budge. If he backed down the hall to which they came from, Walker would see him, clear as day under the overhead lighting. Running meant upsetting the baby and alerting everyone else in this place.
All he could do was back against the wall and hope he saw the empty room and walked past without realising he was right there. Clyde had to remain silent. Though how could a baby understand that?
I promise I will never kill again after today if we make it through this. I will dedicate my entire life to my wife and child and will not indulge in my urges again.
“Little pig… Little pig…” Footsteps slowed, but were just as heavy, beating in time with Eddie’s heart.
Eddie held Clyde close, getting as low to the ground as he could. Shielding his baby was a necessity, limbering himself to run might be the secondary option. As long as Mr. Walker did not hear them, remaining where he was might be for the best.
Do not leave preemptively. Do not run without reason. Avoid unnecessary interactions.
Walker grunted, stepping mere feet away from Eddie’s side, waiting, soaking in the dark like a sponge for anything to capture his interest. A sound, even a smell. Though Eddie could not comprehend how Walker could even do so when his stretch was unbearable.
Dead, rotten meat and iron-enriched blood. It wafted under Eddie’s nose, forcing him to hold his breath before he gagged and gave his presence away.
“You don’t have to hide from me…” He said, heavily breathing in Eddie’s direction.
He inched closer, each heavy thump louder than the last. Clyde was still, Eddie embraced the shallow warmth his little breaths pressed against his chest. If he made a sound now, Eddie wasn’t equipped to fight him off like this.
It helped to hold his breath. Maybe if he closed his eyes too. Waiting and waiting…. Waiting for the bloodhound to leave.
Leave… Please leave.
The intensity of his aura, Eddie couldn’t stand it. Eddie experienced this wave of dread before. When he was a child, hiding from his father, and from his uncle. Under his bed, the dresser drawer, a closet… anywhere he could squeeze into that wouldn’t let them reach in and grab him by the ankles.
Eddie could sense when someone was near him. What they wanted. Getting as far away was his built in defense.
Then Mr. Walker turned away. “Maybe wind…”
Each thump down the hall was another bit of weight off of his chest. It allowed his breaths to go deeper the further he was from Eddie’s child. He could move as soon as the brute turned the corner, cradling Clyde close to back away into a room further down the hall.
It was then he could finally breathe “Clyde,” he slipped the fabric over his head and laid his son on the floor. “Are you hungry?”
He was still sleeping, sucking on his bottom lip as though the world did not upend his family's life. And even though he didn’t stir, Eddie pulled out the other bottle to ‘top him up’ as if he were a car engine. Well, it was crude to describe him like that, but it was the first thing his mind went to.
Top him up, and it might give him more time before a full feed. That meant he had more time to look for you. More time to cover ground before it was too late. Murkoff… Murkoff did things to people and as time went by, Eddie worried that they might change you.
Change you like Eddie.
How did you love someone like him? It was becoming so much clearer now. How did you love someone who hurt people and turned into this monster? Eddie knew he would love you even if you changed, but the pain it took to get there, he wouldn’t wish on his own enemy, let alone you. His wife. The love of his life.
Clyde took the bottle and sucked on the teat, eyes still closed and echoing the dreams he must have had. Eddie hoped they were warm and joyful, nothing like this tomb of darkness and servitude.
“Drink up, son. We’re going to find your mother. Just be quiet a little while longer and you’ll soon be in her arms again.”
After a little while, Eddie wasn’t sure how long, Clyde spat the bottle out. Eddie picked him up and put him back in the sling to wind him and carry on moving.
The facility's rotten chill ran over Eddie’s bare skin, eking goosebumps over his torso. He decided to follow the direction Walker went in hopes it would lead him closer to you.
Anything the might signify a more classified area, maybe with a symbol on it. Something like the electronic keypad to separate the lunatics and those held captive here.
Just follow him, and it’ll all be alright.
However, some minutes later, before Eddie could really set on a path to find you, he heard a sound. It tore through the air and hallway as though it was hungry, metallic. Rumbling closer around the corner and out of sight.
It sounded like a wood-shop room in high school.
The voice that came with it drawer lazily behind it. “I have to feed.
Eddie had to decide whether to confront him, or back away. Either called for finding somewhere safe for Clyde before the grinding metal woke him up.
But this one… this one Eddie could fight.
Part 28 <- Part 29 -> Part 30
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Hendrick picks his next reagent to spy on and ends up inviting her back to his office.
Hendrick Joliet Easterman x Shy!F!reagent
Tags - Dubious consent, Virginity, Mentions of erotic asphyxiation, Drugs, Choking via cord, Throat grabbing, (Forced) Oral sex, Praise, Daddy, Misogyny, Pet names
A gift for @bunnybugairwave (Thank you for the prompt idea!!!)
Masterlist
Fuck, he was so high.
New Kress chemicals tested right under Avellanos’ nose and she didn’t have a single clue how horny it was making him. Though she’d probably shake her head and storm out using the word ‘junkie’ in some random string of words.
It had been a while since the whole room span and threw Hendrick into his own pit of dominance he used in his own company on occasion. Usually when his fist was wrapped around his cock, or whenever he fantasized about specific reagents.
One a week at most, picking one and studying everything about them over the cameras he had a direct link to in the side part of his office.
There, he spent most of his time off the clock, observing and touching himself.
Little tics, traits and tells on anxiety and fear.
Biting the dead skin by finger nails. Rhythmic tapping of bare feet over the linoleum. Pacing back and forth the room like a captive lion.
All perfect in inducting themselves in the therapy. All tantalising in showing Hendrick that the therapy was working.
Give in to fear. Let me guide them.
And this week, he had his sights set on you.
You were a newer reagent, shy and not quite broken in by the therapy.
Shy. What a word. An emotional state of discomfort, nerves and self-consciousness. Now, it wasn't that Hendrick wanted to eradicate them, not in the slightest. He wanted to break them away to co-exist beside you, something he could tap into when he wanted, when he craved it.
So he picked up the microphone and lazily tapped the button ready to spew his own toxicity.
“Are you there?” He watched the screens intently, noting how you jumped at the radio.
He chuckled to himself, running his fingers down the glass screen over your body. “I know you’re there. I wanted to talk with you, to enlighten you.”
Sitting on your bed, you were hesitant to step forward. The desk chair sat off to the side and it coaxed you, as though it was calling an old friend. And with each inch, you edged forward, though stopping short.
"Dr Easterman?"
“It is... You have done so well. I saw the raw, bloody power you performed in the trials. And I want to say that I’m proud of you.”
It wasn’t entirely the case. From what he remembered seeing last night, you hid most of the time, ran away and barely scraped by. A ‘D’ grade. Pathetic at best. He didn’t know why he bothered half the time, tapping his fingers over his desk in a way to split the disappointment in half.
But, Hendrick could see past the failure if there were… other uses for you. No reagent went to waste. Everything could be used again and again. And again.
And tonight, he wanted to use you. Get a kick from pushing you around from pillar to post and see just how far you’d obey him given your disposition.
He spoke to himself as a whisper. “Come on… sit down on that chair. Because I told you to.”
And you did. You sat down on cue.
“Look at that.” He cooed into the metal grate by his lips. “You listen so well. Aren’t you just the best little reagent ever, hm?”
You did nothing at first, fiddling with your fingers or picking your nails in an attempt to pass the weighted heaviness in the room by.
“The rest of the world moves by, and here you are, sitting in that little chair because it’s what you think you were told to do. But in reality, I never said a thing. You are perfect for what I need. Shyness is a veil over our own insecurities. And I happen to think you’re cute.”
Not a word Hendrick would use really, but for someone with your temperament, it suited very well. And now, you were watching the radio with such concentration.
“Me?” You said, even going as far as to point at yourself before looking away from the radio as if he were in the room. “Uh… well-“
God, he needed to ruin that vulnerable little virgin act. Because it was an act, right? He needed to know. He had to find out what you were all about and just how far he could push you.
"Yes. See, I've ben watching you and you are the best reagent I have ever had." A lie. But who was counting?
‘He called me cute?’ You were probably saying, blushing that his attention shifted to you without so much as an effort on your part. Hendrick mulled over the chemical and what it was making him do. He could coo over you all night, watching you shy away and wonder what shade of red your cheeks were.
But his narcotic high had other plans and he went with it. “Now, I want to call you my little ‘how high’, but will you go the extra mile and ask for it?"
You didn’t move, but he was certain he saw how your head nodded slowly as though entranced by his words. "Okay..."
Perfect.
Hendrick sent a brief note on his telex to the sleeproom. ‘Release her to my office.’ along with your reagent number.
“That’s a good little rabbit, you’re doing perfectly. Now, come to my office, and I’ll show you how high daddy wants you to go. Will you do it?”
It wasn’t like you had a choice.
As you got up, Hendrick grew excitable with a long grin at his lips. “Good girl. I knew you’d do the right thing. Hop along now…” Once the mic switched off and Hendrick had his eyes on your walk to his office, he continued on to himself. “And watch you enter the hounds teeth before you get a chance to run.”
Utilising Kress twins chemicals, put Hendrick on a cloud he hadn’t sat upon in quite some time. Deep heated air in his head with sharp razor blades to convince him to do something insane. Hendrick heard the knock before he had a chance to trot to his desk and settle himself and his drug induced heart rate.
“Come in.” He rushed over and straightened himself up enough to be presentable.
There you were, hunched over and refusing eye contact. The guard stepped over the threshold and let you pass.
“Here she is, Dr. Easterman.”
“Good.” Was all he needed to say.
“I’ll be waiting in the hall when you’re ready.” Then he left, softly closing the door that no doubt did not settle you.
There were plenty of ways he could have gone with this. Gentle, soft, reassuring you that he was about to use you for his own sexual gratification. Maybe rough, unwavering with a harsh grip at your wrists.
That required far too much energy.
No, what Hendrick saw, was an opportunity, extorting your shy nature and getting exactly what he wanted.
Like the length of cord he kept in his desk drawer. He’d often use it on himself, even going as far as making a custom sized loop at the end to thread the cord through to tighten it around his neck whilst on the edge of climax. The pressure elevated his orgasm. It sent him into a zone where seeing stars was not only for astronomers.
But, if he were to use it for something other than direct erotic asphyxiation, where would that lead?
“Did you know that a dog's choke lead is for temporary control? Something that pulls tight to discourage pulling and corrects behaviour quickly?”
You nodded as you were formed to do so by Hendrick’s own hand.
“You know, you’re incredibly well behaved, aren’t you?”
You knew better than to utter a word out of line, simply nodding in his direction.
“So if I said kneel, you would?…” To test the water, he emphasised on his pause.
And you kneeled.
“Good!" You flinched at his excitement.
"You listen perfectly. Such a cute face.” There was a flicker of his dominance that surfaced to his cheeks. “I want you to put this on and leave it, do you understand?”
"Uh..." Your eyes darted to the cord. Nodding again. “Y-Yes, Dr. Easterman.”
So delicate, soft enough to cushion the grit and shit and never let it break all over the floor. Tender enough that if you were anywhere else, Hendrick would have no chance in understanding the respectful words you uttered.
Yes Dr. Easterman. No Dr. Easterman
“Fantastic.” He laid the cord over your head until it laid as he wanted it. “This will only go tighter if you aren’t performing how I expect you to. It will correct your behaviour.”
A complete lie.
“Think of it as an experiment.”
Hendrick noticed how your lip trembled, clearly having words on your mind yet thinking twice on an action. Good, very good. Just by the sight of the cord, you did not challenge him.
“See, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?”
Then he pulled.
“No… Dr. Easterman.”
Looking at you on your knees right in front of him, excited the very part of him he did not try to curb. There was the pressure in his slacks, raging and prompting him to use you as he would use himself.
And he pulled.
Only with enough slack to put your head closer to him. Not enough to choke you with.
“Now, you’ll do something for me.” He said, unzipping his pants with a casual tone. “Think of it as… as a test. One to see just how loyal you are. Are you loyal to daddy?”
You gulped, cheeks flushed red as though you wanted to project, though you never did. “Y-Yes, Dr. Easterman.”
“Uh, uh.” He wagged his finger.
"I'm not sure-"
He yanked the cord to which you silenced. "See how this corrects behaviour?"
“Yes… daddy.”
You didn’t even need to be told, nor reminded again. “You are a fast learner, aren’t you? Wow, I am so impressed.”
Without a prompt, your hands found his thighs as he pulled closer, a little tighter now. They gripped him like you were well aware of what you were doing, yet you doe-eyes explained very clearly that you did not.
“Let me guide you, little mouse.”
Gripping your chin, Hendrick opened your mouth and slipped his thumb inside. He pulled his cock free in one hand, massaging an area of your tongue with until you gagged with the other.
“That’s it, react just like that.”
Right before he knew it, his thumb was deeper inside your mouth than he ever intended. Your body lurched forward, almost going as far as grabbing his wrist to stop him though you never did. You avoided eye contact once he pulled out, fiddling with those twitchy fingers of yours in the meantime.
“You’re shy. But you needn't be. I’ll guide you through it, because you’ll do as you’re told, won’t you? Do everything I ask because you’re daddy’s little rabbit.” He rubbed your lips with the tip of his cock, excited to hear you gag once more. “You’ll hop, and you’ll hop because it’s in your nature. And when the warren sees danger, you’ll freeze.”
You did just that, hesitantly welcoming his cock in your mouth, too rigid to say no and hyper aware at the cord around your neck to which Hendrick pulled until he could loop it once around his fist.
Control and pleasure.
One slow, controlled thrust into your mouth and your tears were perfect. For once, you maintained eye contact, never mimicking behaviour that you wanted to pull away just yet.
There was always next time.
Hendrick’s cock throbbed as it touched the back of your throat and sent your body doubling over again though stuck in place.
“There…” He lost all logical reasoning with his high. No tangents or quick witted remarks to speak in other meanings. “You take it so well... You must have done this before-who did you do this with?”
He suddenly found himself possessive over you, wondering what other men stood in his shoes and looked down at you like this. Eyes watering, glossy and vulnerable. His high was pressuring him to find out the answer, switching his mood in an instant. When you struggled and vibrated your throat in order to form vowels, Hendrick pulled himself out of your mouth and asked again.
His hand rested at your throat along with the toughened cord. “Who? Tell me who you fornicated with?”
“No-“ Coughing. “I wasn’t-“ Wheezing. “I’m a virgin-“
Too well. You took him far too well to be pure enough to blush your cheeks and allow your lip to quiver that way with a rope around your neck.
A virgin meant no husband.
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I-I would never…”
So what, you just took cock like that naturally? Hendrick could think clearly. One of his darling reagents acting on his every whim, was made just for him?
“If that’s true, then you won’t have anyone else but me, understand?”
Your eyes widened despite the restriction, clearly wanting to say something. Hendrick was still self-aware enough to realise where your true feelings lied. Yet you still said nothing.
“Good.”
Now you were his forever. And to celebrate, his ego and his determination shoved his cock into your mouth and fucked your jaw like a toy.
You were his now. Only his to use and do what his instincts drove him to.
“Yes… mine.” He tugged the cord as a way to tell himself that he would pick no more reagents to spy on.
Just you.
No teeth, just compliant lips and a firm tongue along the underside of his shaft. Back and forth, adding and pulling a sensation which made it twitch and ready itself for release.
“All mine. Every part.”
Hendrick was one to come quickly, with no self-restraint. You tapped his hips with each thrust, gasping for breath until he paid you mind and listened.
And when he did ejaculate down your throat, he fantasised over your tongue.
Her tongue.
“Let me see it. Show me your tongue.”
You spluttered, wrapping your arms around your chest and coughing up drool and Hendrick’s lust. “W-wait-“
“Show me.” He grabbed your chin, and opened your mouth until your tongue poked out.
Nothing.
No ejaculate. Nothing on your tongue that Hendrick needed to see.
“That won’t do, little mouse. You were doing so well. Stay with me and I’ll show you just how confident you could be.”
Hendrick was fascinated but how little you resisted. And he’d take more than just your virginity and the need to bask in your nerves.
Summary - Eddie Gluskin was transported to a new facility after being found at Mount Massive Asylum. You take it upon yourself to know more about the threatening man under tight restraints. Who knows, maybe you and he hit it off?
Tags - (To be updated with each chapter), DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Mentions Canon-typical violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, reader is a psychiatrist, Mentions of Breeding, Manipulation, Bigoted view on psychiatric patient, Eddie's the patient, References of sexual abuse, Mentions of Infertility, Mentions or /Rape/Torture/Murder, I am not a psychiatrist, dub-con, Mentions of contraception, Derogatory Names, Survival Mode, Heavy Petting
“Watch out with this one, he’s totally nuts.”
You pulled open the case file on the computer, clicking away at the hyperlink and scrolling all the way to the psychiatrist notes.
Becomes obsessed with male staff, infatuated to the point of sedation. Eddie Gluskin is a man who meets the requirement threshold for total grade three restraints.
“Grade three restraints, huh?” You said, curiously reading, making notes to hold on to.
“Yeah, It took three guys and two syringes to slow him down enough to get restraints on him.” The male orderly lent over the desk, stopping the creaky wheeled food cart by the desk. His head zipped back and forth in the direction of Eddie’s room down the end of the hallway.
“That was after he beat an orderly to death, and after he managed to cut his dick off with a shard of glass he managed to smuggle in and we still have no idea how he got it.”
You exchanged a glance before reading further. “So only female staff are permitted to enter now.”
No male staff are permitted entry UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, Eddie Gluskin is less inclined with infatuation towards female staff due to his isolation at Mount Massive Asylum, but must exercise caution. On good days, Eddie will usually co-operate in his restrained state.
All staff should follow grade three restraint protocols and adhere to emergency procedures should he breach his restraints. All staff are to remain in pairs or large groups after roll call via radio communication immediately, staff have access to sedation guns provided in the support call points in designated areas.
DO NOT APPROACH. Fire on site and keep a distance of no less than five metres.
Avoid using specific subjects as examples: Love, Marriage, Children, soul mates during in-person psychiatric observation.
“Why are people avoiding his triggers?”
He tilted his head with lowered brows. “What do you mean?”
“How are we supposed to treat him if we don’t talk about the things that upset him?”
“Oh…” He looked away, fiddling with his pen in an anxious rhythm. “You haven’t been on this wing yet.”
“I haven’t.”
“But you’ve heard the story of Eddie Gluskin, right? He’s the most dangerous and famous patient here. They found him over at Mount massive asylum, you know about that right?”
You didn’t take his response as an insult of your intelligence. “I’m aware of Eddie Gluskin, and where he came from. What I’m confused about is why we’re letting a man rot in a cell and we aren’t even attempting to treat him, he'll need movement eventually, he'll start to develop atrophy. This place will never release him into society ever again, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make his stay here a little more comfortable and possibly less dangerous for staff.”
That’s when he started laughing hysterically. “Oh! You really are funny- you actually think you can help that maniac?!”
“Ambitions keep societies alive, it has aided things that we couldn’t live without today.” You shrugged off his amusement and continued reading.
“But we can live without Eddie Gluskin, but I’ll let you decide. Because what do I know? I’m only an orderly who’s been here before he even got here. But go on, go find out for yourself.” He set the food tray down from the wheeled cart with a clang harder than he probably meant to.
You glanced over his extensive list of crimes and pressed ‘print’, tucking it onto the spare clipboard under the rushed written charge notes from two other patients that were neglected from yesterday. Which you filled yourself, because no one else did.
“I will. Someone has to be on his side. We shouldn’t be treating these patients like animals. They’re still human beings no matter what bad things they’ve done. They need help, not negligence.”
“Y’see, there’s that fresh shrink perspective they all have when they come in here… you’ll change that soon enough, he has a habit of changing your views.” The man leaned in, whispering as though Eddie himself would hear him. “This is a guy who cuts dudes dicks off so he can fuck them… Not sure there’s much to fix.”
You ignored him, picking up the clipboard with an air of arrogance, taking the food tray with you and leaving the desk towards Eddie’s cell. Each echoey heeled footstep growing nearer called to you, panged your gut to help him understand part of his delusion.
Sexual abuse by father and member of extended family. The main point stemming this string of ideals. You saw the notes, how he denied it, a coping mechanism of his own little world he built to protect himself.
The bride. A bride. Any bride. Eddie Gluskin had created a family ideal of marriage and children, a healthy relationship where he was the centre of his own little perfect life for a soul mate. A sad reminder at how hard he’d fallen.
As you grew nearer, his cell being at the end to the right, you heard him singing.
“ I want a girl, just like the girl that married dear old Dad…” It set a precedent.
Your eyes unconsciously flickered to interests, music.
“Hmm…” A possible tool for leverage.
“ She was a pearl. And the only girl that daddy ever had. A good ol' fashioned girl with a heart so true…”
Your curiosity stopped you at the end of the hall, waiting in an odd limbo to listen to him. Tiptoeing towards the door to stop the clacking of your heels from warning him of your presence. Just listening, making your own notes for your own report.
“Darling…” He stopped, eerily calling out to someone, like he knew you were there. “Are you there?”
Instinctively, you held your breath, covering your mouth and waiting for his next sentence. The silence was brutal, weighted, pressured. But it gravitated you towards his smooth syllables, his well mannered words.
Then he carried on, perhaps answering a delusion. “ One who loves nobody else but you. I want a girl, just like the girl that married dear old dad… Get married, boy, and see how happy you will be. I have-”
He stopped as soon as the deadlock turned and creaked, unoiled and going rusty, the pad beeping wearily against your key card. Silence, more stillness than you knew what to do with.
Still, you cleared your throat and remained professional, even though the plastic cup on the tray shuddered gently and sloshed. “Good evening Mr. Gluskin. I have your dinner ready.”
He said nothing, possibly bothered about another woman entering his personal space. His eyes shot you like daggers, little needles running down your back and all pointed at him. The off white, heavy duty material wrapped him like a cocoon, ankles restrained to the floor, a barbaric display of his stripped free movement.
The neutral expression he wore shifted entirely to a relieved grin. “I knew you were there, darling. Why did you keep quiet? Were you simply brimming with grandeur at my melody?”
You sat down and breathed slowly, keeping the overwhelming energy coming from him to a minimum. “I heard you singing… I see that you like music.”
“Oh… music is a window to the soul, wouldn’t you say? Da-da-dee-dee-da-da-dum-” He mumbled something incoherent. “You aren’t like the other ones, are you darling? See, you are stronger than the last one- I just know it.”
So much for leaving the staff alone… they never really mentioned anything in the notes about this. Mostly just his misogynist comments towards other women.
“How do you know that? We’ve only just met.” Crossing your legs opposite him at a distance, you brought up his file again.
“No… No, no. We haven’t. Darling, soul mates are entwined for eternity. I know you and in trust, you know me. The moment I saw you, I knew we were destined for greatness.” His eyes slopped down body with an eagerness you could only describe as predatory. “Your hips… So perfect for bearing children- that’s how I knew you were meant to be my bride.”
Childbirth, marriage and soulmates all in one sentence.
“You want to marry me?” You asked, flicking back through the notes. “I’m in my mid twenties, that’s quite the age gap.”
“No, no, darling it’s perfect! Younger to bear my children, more children. You’re well enough to hold my seed and give me strong children. Beautiful children. I’ll protect them like a father is meant to.” His grin faltered so slightly, then returned right away.
“What if I can’t have children?” Testing the waters still came with its risks regardless of his restraints. “What if I was told by a doctor that I couldn’t bear children, would you still want to be married?”
For a moment, his expression fell to the bottom of the barrel, like he had short circuited. Being faced with a dilemma like this where his primary focus to start a family was blocked, temporarily forcing him to decide whether children or marriage was his focal point.
It helped you to find a starting point with him.
“Well, are you?” He was suddenly sharp, snappy and he darkened in the soft spotlight on the wall.
“Me? No. I can, but if you were faced with that problem, what would-”
“Then why mention it, darling? If it’s no problem, then why bring it up?”
Shit. You wanted to see the extent of his anger, it intrigued you and fascinated your drive to speak with him more freely.
“I brought it up, because if you feel so strongly for me, I want to know if you would still marry me if I couldn’t have your children.”
“Why are you talking like this? Are you just saying this to leave me- to evade my affections?!”
You read the notes, and didn’t bend to him despite your heart racing. “I want to know if you’d leave me. Would you abandon me because I couldn’t have children?”
Eddie Gluskin grew violent and furious by those he deemed were leaving him, you doubted he’d ever met anyone who would accuse him of the same.
“You…” He whimpered, breathless. “No, no… Darling, I- no, I think… oh darn, I’m being so vulgar, aren't I?... In truth, it’s been so long since I’ve had been in a lovers company, I lose myself. I hope you’ll forgive me. It won’t happen again- when we’re married, I’ll be a different man, I swear. Once I’ve made an honest woman out of you.”
“An honest woman?”
There had been no prior relationship, did his delusion go that deep? Had he forged an entire backstory in his mind that made him think you and he were already entangled? You thought of all the other people he had hurt, raped, murdered, tortured. It was fascinating to see his mind turn and develop as the conversation carried on.
“Well, marriage is first. We can’t have you pregnant with my child out of wedlock. And I want you to have my baby. As many as we can with your young, fertile womb. We must make haste, though I know it’s unsightly hearing such words, it must be done. It must be planned as I see it, for our children.”
“Eddie-”
He groaned, struggled against his restraints. “Oh… I love when you use my name, darling. It stirs me up inside, I can barely contain myself. The anticipation is positively choking… now, release me so we can marry and consummate our love.”
“I can’t do that unfortunately, Eddie. You’re under grade three restraints. But if you behave-”
“So you allow this penitentiary to sever our love?! To… remove us from each other’s arms because of silly rules put there to keep soulmates apart?!”
You waited a second to gain your composure. “If you’re good, and you eat, and stop being so… vulgar. Then I’ll bring you music to listen to… Think of it as a wedding present.”
“But I- a wedding present?”
“Yes. A wedding present.” You feigned giddy laughter. “That is unless you changed your mind about me?”
“No! No… Darling, I could never. But how can I stay here knowing we’re both suffering apart when you’re gone?”
“It won’t be long, I’m working most days.” As a new psychiatrist, your hours were intense.
But it wasn’t enough for him, he growled as soon as you made a move to stand. “And in that, you’re already leaving me?! Oh, you are all the same, aren’t you?! Steal my heart and squish it like a bug beneath your shoe, then go to leave me!”
“No.” You said, pulling your little keycard out of your pocket. “I forgot cutlery. I’ll go get it and bring it to you. You must be hungry.”
Eddie stayed silent… watching you through his bloodied eyes, mouth slightly agape. You assumed it was the first time he’d ever been speechless, fumbling over his words according to the earlier transcripts you'd glossed over. Maybe, just maybe, there was an air of clarity for just a brief second.
Only a second. “I do love a wife that hand feeds her husband, such bonding, making time for each other to rile us up for consummation. Oh my pretty wife… I knew you were the one.”
"I won't be long, Eddie."
When you left, after locking the door again, you let relief drop from your chest in a slouch, a deep breath you’d been holding. Eddie Gluskin was just as intense and charismatic as the report suggested. But there was one thing you realised that no one seemed to mention in the peak of Eddie’s abuse.
He just wanted someone to love, and to love him back in return. And in love, a man like Eddie Gluskin, was easily manipulated.
Manipulated and hopefully at some point, more willing to be controlled for safety purposes.
Part 1 <- -> Part 2
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