Pretty Hate Machine
The Sequel to ‘The Downward Spiral’
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If you dangle meat in front of a predator long enough, the frenzy that follows will be violent and messy.
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This is a dark Ghostface fanfiction. Content Warning:
Fuck or Die
Violent sex
Blood play
Torture porn
Stabbing
Dubcon/noncon
Sexual violence
Humiliation
Degradation
Graphic descriptions of violence
Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. If the above are triggers for you, do not proceed. DBD lore does not suggest Danny is fun or nice, I wrote him as such.
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“I’ll see you real soon, sweetheart.”
The words echoed in your head as you sat on a fallen tree trunk, leg bouncing as you stared out into the forest and waited. You’d been doing a lot of that lately… waiting. Waiting for the next trial. Waiting for the next killer. Waiting to be hunted down and slaughtered. Waiting to be a sacrifice to the Eldritch horror of an entity that controlled this place.
Waiting for him. You’d been waiting for what feels like forever for him. You lost track of how long you’d been here, it could’ve been months, years, mere days, you didn’t know. The others, they called in The Fog. They called themselves Survivors, they all got here in some mysterious way (though none of them had been brutally murdered after they were fucked by their coworker).
Sometimes you wondered if people were looking for you, if people were looking for Danny, Jed, Ghostface, whoever he was to people. You landed on the guess that they were looking for your body, and as far as Ghostface, you’re positive they assumed he skipped town after likely slaughtering you.
You’d been looking for him too. Rather, you’d been looking out for him. It was apparent what would happen when you finally encountered him. He’d hunt you like the rest of the monsters that lurked here, you and three others that were dropped into these… trials. Four against one, at a staggering disadvantage, since that one was a killer with a horrible weapon and you got a shard of glass if you were lucky.
So far, you faced The Shape, one of the survivors called him Michael. She came from the same place he did, Haddonfield, Illinois, her name was Laurie. Forever pissed that she was stuck in an endless cat and mouse game with the man who killed her friends. At least one of them could understand your position. The Trapper was another one that you encountered a lot, a burley man who set rusty bear traps in places you always seemed to be. There were more. The Huntress, The Wraith, The Nurse, The Doctor. Those are just the ones that stuck out to you. The ones you saw most often.
But where was he? Why didn’t you see him? Why were you actively looking for the one everyone called The Ghost? Why did you care? What the fuck was wrong with you? You hated the feeling you got when the others talked about trials with him, how you began to get jealous. Why couldn’t you see him? It was almost not fair. You should be grateful you’re not being hunted by the narcissistic, knife wielding maniac, but you miss him. Why was this entity separating you from him on purpose? Surely it’s not out of mercy.
It freaked you out how obsessive you were about him. Danny consumed your every thought at the fire. The others asked you about him once he began showing up in their trials. Theirs. Not yours. They asked why he chose you (you didn’t know). They asked if he carved the word ‘MINE’ into your arm (you lied, it was your ex, they believed you). They remarked that you must be so happy you haven’t had to face him (you weren’t).
And fuck you for that.
You hated, loathed the idea that maybe you missed Jed. And then you’d remember that Jed doesn’t exist. Jed is a lie. Jed is Danny. Danny was behind murders states away from Roseville. Danny is Ghostface. Danny is unhinged. Danny is a good fuck. And fuck you for wanting him to fuck you again.
The man in the glasses and the tie, Dwight, sat next to you.
“What does he do in those trials?” you asked, staring into the flames.
Dwight swallowed. “He’s brutal. He hides around corners and in windows and watches us.” Gross. He’s such a fucking pervert. “I think he looks for you.”
That got your attention. “What?”
“I’ve noticed he gets worse when he figures out you’re not there. It’s like all of a sudden this rush of anger goes through him and he’s tunneling survivors, he’s brutally playing around, he’s watching us suffer on the hooks, he’s collapsing the end game. It’s terrifying.”
You scoff and then let out a laugh, which earns you a few looks from other survivors. “So he throws a fucking temper tantrum.”
“Temper tantrum?” The girl in the beanie, Nea, sneered. “Is that what you call it when the rest of us are being brutalized because you’re getting spared?”
“Nea…” Dwight warned.
“Spared?” You laugh again. “Spared? Did you forget what got me here? That asshole stalked me. He broke into my home. He bludgeoned me, then he tied me down, then he tortured me,” you conveniently leave out the part where he fucked you with your blood as his lube, “and then he cut my throat open. And now I’m here. So, yes, it is a temper tantrum.”
She started swearing at you, but it was drowned out by the loud hum that overtook your mind, you knew that tug. The Entity wanted to be entertained. That’s all these trials were for it. Entertainment. You grunted and closed your eyes, and when they reopened, you were staring down the streets of Haddonfield. Shit. Another trial with The Shape, at least, that’s who was normally here, or the Legion, creepy bastards.
These trials were simple enough. You and three other survivors were to fix enough generators to power on the gates that led to an exit. You just had to deal with a murderous nutcase of the Entity’s choosing chasing you down in order to shove you onto a sacrifice hook, or to murder you themselves with something the others referred to as a mori.
You got right to work on a generator, moving hastily as the adrenaline pumped through your veins. You’d gotten good at this game, you escaped a lot of the time, generators were tricky, but you were fast.
A scream ripped across the street, freezing you in your tracks before a bell rolled and signaled the death of one of your fellow survivors. That was fast… almost too fast. Was it The Hillbilly? No, you didn’t hear the chainsaw. The Hag? Maybe Michael really was the killer this time. You abandoned the generator and ran towards the scream, then you stopped.
‘Idiot! This is exactly how people die in horror movies!’ you scolded yourself. Not only that, if the killer had been blessed with the ability to use their mori, you’d be even stupider to investigate. You’d be a brainless moron. The kind of brainless moron that you used to point and laugh at in those stupid 80s slasher movies.
Then you felt a new sensation. Like someone was watching you. The hair on your arms rose, you were oddly aware of your pupils dilating and your forehead breaking out in a sweat. It kept you frozen where you were. This was different from when Michael was the killer, you never got the feeling of a dry throat or like you were hyper aware of your surroundings.
The others have talked about this feeling. Obsession.
Fucking fuck, you were the killer’s obsession.
Without a thought, your legs sprang into motion, you sprinted from between the houses you had stopped at. You had to get away from the area. Go! Run! Hide! You became less human and more animal as you banked around a corner and dove into in a locker, hand clamped over your mouth and nose, trying to will your heart to slow, fearing that it would be heard. Footsteps approached from the side, pausing in front of the doors. The shadow casted through the vents wasn’t anything overly huge, but it vanished before you could pick it apart. At least you knew this was a stealth killer, not one of those hulking brutes like The Trapper or The Executioner.
You didn’t dare move until the feeling of being an animal hunted left. When it felt safer, you carefully exited the locker and ran the opposite direction to continue on your generator. As soon as it popped, you bolted, still unable to shake that lingering feeling of being watched.
Not moments later, the explosion of a mis-crossed wire on a generator was heard, followed by a scream piercing through the air and then a bell tolling.
What the fuck…” you murmured. This only confirmed that it had to be a stealth killer. Which only left you with a few options. The Wraith, the Pig, Michael… or him. You heart pounded a little harder. There was a 25% chance you were in a trial with Danny. One where you were the obsession. One where he could slaughter exactly as he pleased. One where you were now down two teammates.
You were completely and utterly fucked.
A hand grabbed your shoulder and you let out a scream before another hand slapped over your mouth and a bloody Ace shushed you. “Shh! Sh! I’m sorry, listen- fuck- I need you to help me out!”
The gambling man was stabbed blood pouring from between his fingers. You nodded as he crouched down and you quickly started packing the wound. “Wh-who is it?” Your voice wavered, terrified of the answer you already knew.
“It’s The Ghost.” Ace grunted as you faltered a bit. “Ah! He- he knows you’re here, kid…”
Before you could form a coherent thought, a shadowy blur launched from the shadows and tackled Ace from you, knocking you flat on your ass. Ace rolled onto his stomach, I’m the process of yelling for you to run, but the knife was already in his back, puncturing his lungs before he brutally stabbed through his sides, head ripped up and the flash of a camera capturing a fresh kill. You stared up from your ass in pure horror as Danny examined his photograph and slowly raised those black, soulless pits of the mask to meet your terrified eyes.
“Fucking finally.” His voice was distorted by that fucking modulator, nice to know he didn’t drop the act here. He tore the knife from Ace’s back, standing. You scrambled back as his boots crunched on the gravel. “You’re all mine, bitch!” You screamed as he wiped the blood from his knife, turning and stumbling as you got up and ran, hearing the most unhinged cackle fall from the throat of the killer. Your killer. You vaulted over windows, threw down pallets, you tried to get away, but there was no escape, it was a fact you were so devastatingly aware of. You finished one generator, all three of your teammates were dead before you could even process you were alone.
Worst of all, he was pissed. You came to realize that night before you came here that Danny had some serious anger issues. He had an incredibly short fuse. Even answering his questions slower than he wanted pissed him off. And now, after probably having to watch you for however long you were here, not being able to have you? He must be irate. Evident by the fact he just brutally murderer Ace in front of you.
You turned into a house, rocketing up a flight of stairs and wedging yourself under a bed, hands clasped over your mouth to quiet your breathing. You heard the pallet you had thrown down across the door shatter under the force of Danny’s boot. “You can’t hide here, sweetheart!” he snarled from downstairs. You hear doors open and get slammed shut, pans clattered to the floor as he stalked through the house. “It’s just you and me now! No more hiding, no more watching, no more fucking games, you’re finally goddamn mine!” Floorboards creaked as he ascended the stairs and tears rolled down your cheeks until it went quiet. Damn him. Damn you for getting wet over this. What the fuck was wrong with you?
“Found you.” A hand wrapped a crushing grip around your ankle and dragged you out from under the bed, kicking and screaming as he shoved you against the wall by your throat. The soulless black abyss of the mask’s eyes bore into you with more emotion than you think any person could ever have. Because Danny was beyond pissed.
‘Shit. Shit, shit, shit!’ You kicked your legs and caught him in the stomach, falling out of his grasp and attempting to make a run for the door, only for your ankle to be caught again and you to land on the dirty hardwood face first, nose crunching and bleeding at the impact. Danny dragged you back to him and wrestled you into his arms, falling back as you knocked your head back to collide with his. You weren’t going to go down like last time, you were going to fight, you were going to make it as hard as you could for him. Maybe he’d get so angry that he’d just kill you instead of what you knew he was going to do.
He suddenly threw you to the ground like you weighed nothing before standing and kicking you in the gut. You wheezed, has he always been this strong? No… no way he had been. “Hey, doll? Did you miss me?” He growled, grabbing your hair and wrenching you up.
“Fuck you!”
“I see you haven’t lost that fuckin’ fight.” he growled. It wasn’t playful, it wasn’t giddy. It was said with downright terrifying annoyance as he hauled you to your feet and slammed your face against the wall, cheeks crushed to it, your back to his body, blood pouring from your broken nose. “She hasn’t broken you quite yet.”
“Go to hell, Danny!”
He pushed you harder into the wall, the splintering wood cutting into your cheek. “Choose your next words real fucking careful, sweetheart. I’m already having a bad fuckin’ day and I will gladly take it out on you. And I’ll make it really fuckin’ slow and painful… just for you.” You whimper, ultimately going lax under his fingers and taking a deep breath. This is what you wanted, right? To see him? Feel him? Touch him? This was what you asked for when you brooded over the fire and laid awake being jealous of your fellow survivors and angry that he may have their pictures too. “That’s it. That’s it, doll.”
You winced as he pressed against you, heavy breath muffled by the mask, erection pressed against your ass. You were not going to make it easy for him. “I heard you threw some temper tantrums when I didn’t show up in the trials.”
He slammed your head against the wall again and your vision blurred. “The more attitude you have, the worse this is going to be for you. I’m not above gouging out new holes to fuck instead of your pussy.”
Your eyes watered as you whimpered. Then tears started spilling from your eyes. You heard plastic hit the ground as Danny ripped it off his face. He trailed the tip of his knife down your cheek as he pressed his forehead against your temple, his hair damp with sweat. “Listen, and listen closely.” he growled into your ear. “You’re going to cooperate. I have waited since I got to here to have my way with you again. I even cut a deal with the Entity.”
“Wh-what kind of deal?”
He let out a soft breath of a laugh before grinding his hips against your ass and let out a soft groan. “We show her how far I can push you, I get access to you outside the trials. It’s a win-win.”
“Sounds more like a win for only you.” you muttered. The knife bit into your cheek, and to your utter humiliation, you whined. He shifted your position and held you to the wall by your throat. The eyeblack was still there like you remember, but he didn’t have your blood splattered on him. Danny smiled as he observed the shine of the knife.
You swallowed as he gave you that stupid smirk before he licked the blood from your cheek then leaned down and kissed you, the knife disappearing back into its sheath. You let out a muffled yelp, trying to find a way from between him and the wall. His hands ran up your arms, one descending down your spine while the other firmly cupped the back of your neck to keep you close, effectively cutting off any and all escape routes.
You shoved him back but he just locked his fist into the hair at the base of your neck and yanked your head up towards the ceiling as hard as he could. “It’s pathetic how you think struggling will get you anywhere, doll.” He made his point by stabbing your leg and dragging the knife upward, shuddering as you let out a high pitched scream. “Fuck, I love when you scream for me.”
“I hate you.” You growled, tears freely flowing now as the knife ripped from your leg and was lodged into the wall.
“Is that why you sit at that fire and stare out into the forest? Because you hate me?” Danny scoffed, roughly shoving his hand into your shorts and gliding his ring and middle fingers through the wet folds of your pussy, pulling a whimper from you. “Look at that, still a filthy slut for pain? Do you soak your panties for all the killers when the chase you down, or am I special?”
You glared at him as you tried to control your breathing and hold back your whimpers. He pressed his forehead against yours and focused his fingertips on your clit, slow circles stimulating you further, causing your eyes to drift close and your mouth to drop open.
“She kept you from me. She made me wait and watch. She tortured me by dangling you in front of me like I was a starving dog salivating after a slab of fucking meat.” He yanked you off the wall, taking the knife with him in the process, and pushed you back on the bed, straddling you, your blood soaking the fabric of his pants. “I have so many pictures of you. I’ve made a pretty collage of you.”
His eyes were crazed, he looked like a junkie that finally found his fix. He practically devoured you again, teeth clacking against yours as the knife tore through your top and shorts, nicking your skin, bright red blood blooming from the cuts. He was careless, you were probably in more danger now than you ever were the night he brought you here. But oh god, did it feel good when the worn leather of his gloves caressed your tits and pinched your hard nipples.
‘Fuck it.’ You reached down and cupped his pants, whimpered when he immediately started grinding his hard cock into your palm. He grinned against your mouth and broke away from you, pressing his knife against your throat.
“You try to run and I’ll pin you to the wall by your throat and fuck you that way.” When you nodded, he stood up walking backwards until he collapsed back in the chair, legs open wide. “Now, I didn’t get my cock sucked last time. Crawl to me, take it out, and show me what a good little doll you are.”
You winced as you moved your leg, yelping as you crawled, the muscle of your thigh torn by his brutality. You dragged yourself into a kneeling position and started undoing the belt, sliding it off and working the button open and dragging down the zipper. You hated yourself as you pulled out his cock, mouth watering. You didn’t get a good look at it before, but the stretch you felt made sense. And of course the asshole had a pretty cock. Fuck him. And fuck yourself for liking it. The other survivors, they fucked each other, you however couldn’t stop thinking of the fuckhead in front of you.
“Hurry up, sweetheart. I’m not a patient man.” he growled.
“I’m well aware.” That comment earned you a blade in the shoulder, bone crunching, and you screaming. Danny seized your hair and shoved your mouth onto his cock, slamming into the back of your throat and causing a wretch to interrupt the muffled cries of agony.
“You’re real fuckin’ brave, you little brat. You love running your fuckin’ mouth so much, but we can find a better use for it.” You wretch again as he thrusted, forcing you to drool down his shaft before he pulled you off so air. “Get to work. Now.” It was so embarrassing how easily you bent to his will. The nail was in the coffin from day one.
He didn’t need to guide you anymore. Message received. So you immediately began stroking his shaft and licking at the bead of precum on his tip. How long had he been watching you in the trial? How many pictures of you did he take? How often did he masturbate to you? How many hours had he spent wanting you from the shadows just outside of your survivor camp?
You opened your mouth and gave the head of his cock a quick, sharp suck, causing Danny to moan and throw his head back. “C’mon, baby.” He seized your hair and forced you to look up at him and his camera, clicking away. “Put on a good show for me.”
He tasted like you imagined. Earthy, but with a hint of sweat from the hunt, and he kept himself trimmed neatly. Your mouth watered, hands bracing onto his strong thighs, tears running out of your eyes like the drool running out of your mouth. Oh fuck, he was addicting. Your nails dig into his hips and dragged down, leaving him shuttering and laughing.
“Ah~ f-fuck, sweetheart. You look so good with my cock in your throat.” He forced your head closer, shoving himself further down your throat and your nose against his body, gagging you. His cock twitched in your throat, you braced yourself to take every drop of his cum. “Sick little slut.” Danny’s hand wrapped around your hair, a delicious tug making you moan as he pulled you off his cock and caught his breath. Your spit clung to the tip of good swollen cockhead and connected to your lip as you gasped for air. “As much as I’d love to see you swallow my cum, I’d much rather paint that pussy white.”
He got up and dragged you to the bed, forcing you to stumble and cry out in pain when your leg dragged against the sheets on the bed, staining the dirty floral quilt with blood. More screams and yelps of agony fell out when he pressed your busted nose into the mattress. Danny’s fingers brushed your pussy, growling out a laugh.
“What would your little friends say if they saw you here right now, dripping, even with a broken nose, scared out of your mind? What would they say if they knew I carved out that scar on you?” Just as your mouth opened to snap back, the knife was shoved through your shoulder, point sticking out the other side of your body. “Learn how to shut the fuck up, sweetheart.”
You nodded, finally giving in, finally accepting defeat. God you were pathetic. How embarrassing. Still, he rewarded your response with gloved fingers rubbing your clit the way he knew would get you squirming and moaning. He practically snarled as he pressed his forehead between your shoulder blades, blood from your wound soaking his forehead. “Please, Danny… please I need you…”
“I know you do.” He shoved you back and pushed his pants lower. “Arch nice and fuckin’ pretty for me.”
You obeyed, whimpering as the knife shifted in your back, well aware of the clicking and the flashes of the camera. So fucking creepy. Danny gripped your ass and spread your cheeks open and gave your pussy a quick, experimental lick before he kneeled behind you. He roughly collected blood from the gushing wound on your leg and spread it onto himself, teasing your pussy with the head of his cock, dragging it through your soaking wet folds, swirling it over your clit as you whimpered. More clicks. More flashes. God the disgusting gallery he must have of you.
“Please, just fuck me alre-“ you screamed out when he slammed his whole cock into your hole, grunting at the way you squeezed him hard. “Jesus Christ, Danny!”
“Ah fuck me. Finally… god fucking dammit finally!” He smoothed his hands over your back and sides, letting out a loud moan as he watched you take him, letting him thrust at a leisurely pace. Danny didn’t do gentle of course, he seized your hair and ripped your body up and against his chest, knife at your throat as he started pounding. You gasped and moaned, throat bobbing as you struggled to swallow without getting cut by his knife. “You’re so pretty when you’re being fuckin’ good for me.” He dropped the knife and fell forward, still thrusting, but now cheek to cheek with you as your arch deepened and his chest pressed down into your back.
He fumbled for a moment and regrouped onto your hair as the camera screen was shoved into your face. He forced you to watch as he flipped through photo after photo of you. You at the fire, you talking to the survivors, you sleeping. Occasionally pictures of your dead teammates showed up, until the trial now was apparent. It was only you.
You fixing the generator. You stopping in the alley. You running down the street, your terrified eyes as you realized who it was, you sucking his cock. Your pussy with his cock balls deep inside, blood smeared everywhere.
“You’re- mmh fuck!- You’re fucking crazy!”
Danny whimpered in your ear as you clenched in a particularly hot way before he bit on your lobe. “And you… fuck, you’re such a slut, ya know that?” he growled. “I just murdered your friends, I’m covered in their blood, and you’re still wet for me. You’re still taking me so good. Dirty little whore.”
You reached back and ran your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck as you felt yourself clench as Danny‘s breath fanned your neck. You were disgusting. Traitor. Weak. You weren’t any better than him, because if you were, you wouldn’t be fucking him right now. You wouldn’t be enjoying it right now. He moaned again and pulled out, flipping you onto your back and slamming back inside, your breath rushing out of your lungs.
He suddenly tensed and braced himself over you, angling himself even deeper as he moaned and came inside you, thrusting through the waves of pleasure. He started laughing and tapped your cheek with his knife. “Good god, sweetheart look at that… making me cum so quick…” Your breath hitched as he pulled his cock out of you and spread your pussy open, laughing as he watched his cum drip out of your abused whole, mixing with the blood. Danny turned his attention to his branding on your arm, tracing the letters with the tip of the blade. “It’s cute how you lie about this.” There wasn’t an ounce of flirt in his voice as the smile vanished. “How you make them think you aren’t my property.”
“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Danny.” you snapped. Before you could blink, the knife was through your hand, your high pitched scream piercing the air. “Asshole!”
“Don’t get smart with me, babe.” He twisted it, bones crunching. “Or I’ll carve a hole in your throat and fuck that next!”
You whimpered as he ripped the knife out of you, blood splattering on the both of you. The carnage was worse this time, you were practically covered and smeared in blood. “Please…”
“Please what? Please kill you? Please fuck you again? Please keep you here until she has enough and takes you away from me again?” He smirked, taking another picture of you. “Be specific.”
You hesitate, then swallow. “Please make me cum… I wanna cum… please, Danny, I’ll be good!”
Danny smiled and ran a hand through his hair, observing his blade before his eyes lit up with an idea. “Stick out your tongue.”
You obeyed, and his fingers started in on your clit. He pressed the knife’s base on you tongue before pressing his own to the other side, fingers now shallowly dipping into your entrance, cum leaking around the tips. Fuck, this was hot, the taste of the blood on the weapon, how the sides of his tongue pressed against yours as he slid the knife down between them, somehow managing to not cut either of you. When it was finally out, his tongue folded over your, blood and spit mixing as he finger fucked you.
Your breathing got heavy, a moan rose in your chest as his thumb played over your clit. You shook and reached up, fingers grasping his shirt as you broke the kiss to pant and whine and whimper. Your eyes shut and your thighs started tensing. Your tongue was coated in you and your teammates’ blood, the wound on your shoulder bled heavily and you’ve lost feeling in the shredded leg that was still spraying blood, your head was fuzzy, you were right there, so close, so-
He tore his fingers away and stabbed you in the stomach instead, right as you came, shock in your eyes as you coughed out more blood. “Fuck you!” He hummed with a smile as he slowly dragged the knife up and up and up, splitting your stomach and exhausting whatever adrenaline you had left to scream.
“A ruined orgasm is still an orgasm, sweetheart.” He smacked your pussy, splashing your cum on your thighs as he twisted and unsheathed the knife from your body. “Come to the edge of your little camp when you get back. Let’s see if this god of ours keeps her promises.”
