Red Velvet

Wesley Hughes. Patient #265. Room # 28. Night terrors of Red Velvet.

[starjumps-blog]

[thinkingofrob-blog]

[laurajeankingsley]

@Wes

[laurajeankingsley]

“Oh?” her lips curled into a smile as she sat next to him again “That doesn’t seem a very friendly thing to do…”

She brought the blade to connect with the skin of his arm, raking the tip along his bicep and towards his shoulder. She sniggered as flecks of old blood flicked off the blade and onto his pale skin, making them look even darker.

“Who was this… friend of yours?” she asked, drawing patterns and white scratches along his shoulder “What did he do to deserve the Doctor Sullivan treatment?”

She stopped for a moment, leaning down to pick up a flake of dried blood onto her fingertip. She examined it in the dim light, wondering where it came from. Her eyes flicked to Wesley’s anxious face and she crumbled the flake to dust over him. Brown dust… once red. She wondered for a moment how he had done it: cut someone else with all of that red gushing. Perhaps it was the control that had cancelled it out. Perhaps, in the moment; that moment of power and domination, his head forgot to acknowledge the faulty connection that had brought him down, shivering and begging, in front of her. Perhaps it was the control.

Suddenly, Laura stood up, knife still in hand, looking down on him again. Continuing to stare at his face, she walked behind his head where his arms lay, still tightly secured together at the wrists. She repositioned her feet carefully and suddenly, all of her weight was on his arms. She smiled as she saw his jaw clench in the denial of pain.

“You didn’t answer my question, Wesley…” she said in a mocking tone.

She crouched down, pinning the boys’ arms to the floor as she sat. She leaned forward, caressing his shoulder- the same one which she had lightly scratched before - and ran the flat coolness of the blade along it, not cutting into the skin just yet. She drew it down towards her, further up his arm, bringing it to a rest half way along his bicep. She brought the blade to stand vertical, the tip pressing precariously atop the thin, first layer of skin. Slowly she pressed down on it, rotating it as she did so, as though to make more room for the blade to gouge sickeningly into his muscle.

She grinned as her eyes flicked to his face quickly enough to see the colour drain from it as she pressed down even harder, turning the knife still. She felt his muscles tense with the effort of wanting to thrash away but being unable to. His jaw and eyes were clenched equally tight as he fought with every breath not to cry out. She laughed, bringing her face down to his.

“Go ahead, Wesley” she said  ”I know it hurts…”

She brought her mouth close by his ear so that even though the room radiated silence, she was sure he could hear her every word: voice dripping with malice and evil.

“Go ahead,” she whispered “Scream”

[wesleyhughes-rp]

He lay in silence staring at the boring ceiling concentrating yet nothing goes through his mind. He stared blankly seeing nothing, just trying to block everything out--her, the red dress, the pen knife glinting provokingly in the dim light of the room. Nothing as she effortlessly teased him. Nothing. He had finally let himself become numb; void of emotion. It was, in the way, the best decision he'd made thus far in his life.

Yet as she dragged the blade over his skin, he couldn't help but feel a little anxious but he figured that she was only trying to scare him. So he let her do her little flightless dance around him hoping that if he complied then he could dress himself and leave; go back to his own room and attempt to regain any composure that pre existed prior to their little run in.   

With a start she jumped on his arms and his jaw clamped together in order to control the pain; keeping it silently buried inside. But her weight was too much and bent his arms down to the ground unusually, putting unbearable strain onto his weakening shoulders. She lowered herself onto his arms into a sitting position and he continued to stare blankly into the twisting air above him. Trying to saturate his mind with nothingness, separating all emotions that might possibility be for pain, only clenching his jaw tightly in a tiny act of revolt.

Suddenly she drove the blade of his pen knife into his bicep and rotated it like the hands on a clock; slowly and carefully. He wanted desperately to cry out, to scream, to push her of him but all he could do was clench his eyes tight and swallow his pride. It was as if his entire entity was engulfed with flames. Burning a hole into his flesh; drilling an unforgivably into his muscle.

Her voice in his ear made him want to gag, it's sweet tinkling sending his stomach into a whirlpool, and mixed with the excruciating  pain radiating from his arms he couldn't bare it any longer. He had struggled fruitlessly against his instinct to let out an anguished cry. But his defences were pointless. The numbing wall he had created came tumbling down around like a tonne of bricks.

His lungs burst and an all mightly scream engulfed the silent room.

[laurajeankingsley]

@Wes

[laurajeankingsley]

Laura Jean knelt next to the boy, letting her finger tips drag down his neck and chest as he recounted his horrors. Her own laughter echoed through her mind. She closed her eyes and smiled as he trembled beneath her fingers, both of them envisioning the horrific details. She craned her neck back, sighing deeply as she could almost feel the pain; the burning skin, the complete lack of control…

Her eyes snapped open and she smiled as she looked back down at his pale face. She ran her hand along the puckered scars again, the sickening fascination constant. She leant down over his body, her eyes following the running lines her hand drew on his skin: over his chest, up his neck, through his hair. She let her fingers linger there; picking up individual locks and running circles through the tangles as she brought her face close to his.

“You’ve got a habit of that, don’t you, Wesley? Begging,” she murmured, her breath hot near his mouth. She grinned “Do you honestly enjoy grovelling like some pathetic child?”

She leant toward him even further, knowing that the proximity disturbed him somewhat.

“Do you think I could make you beg all over again?” she murmured. She leaned even closer and hungrily pressed her lips onto his: forcing herself onto him. She could taste his confusion and distress at the sudden intimacy; the further intrusion of his personal space. She continued, pressing harder against his mouth. Eventually, his body relaxed and immediately as he did so, she pulled away; leaving him lingering. She smiled.

“Do you let everyone crawl over you, Wesley?” she smirked.

Laura pulled away totally, away from his face and away from his body until she was no longer touching him. She laughed at the disorientated haze surrounding him. She stood up, taking a few steps away from him so that he could no longer see her or, if he could, it would be barely a glimpse of red. She was closer to the wall from where she stood here and surveyed the room; looking for fun. She spotted Wesley’s clothes, still piled on the ground where he had left them. She walked over to them, skipping almost.

“Wesley, dear, didn’t your mother ever teach you to fold your clothes?” she smiled as she picked up one item at a time, meticulously folding each piece of clothing as she spoke to him, sickeningly sweet and motherly “You should always fold your clothes as you remove them so that they don’t wrinkle. Unless of course it’s a dress: then you should hang it. Or wasn’t your mummy around much when you were a little…”

Laura’s voice trailed off as she picked up the boy’s trousers and the clink of something hard and solid falling to the ground sounded. She draped the pants on the bed along with the rest of the neat pile and leant down to pick up the small object: a pen knife.

She held it in her hand, turning and rotating it as she inspected every curve of the small knife, currently folded in on its own handle. She flicked it out with her thumb, immediately noticing the dark lines of dried red decorating the blade. Her eyes flicked to Wesley, curiously and she sashayed back over to him.

“Isn’t this interesting?” she asked, voice still as sugared as honey. She smiled as she turned it to glint in the little light the room provided “Does it belong to a friend of yours? It’s very… interesting”

[wesleyhughes-rp]

What happened completely took him by surprise. Her lips collided with his and he struggled against her ice cold touch. It was like his whole body was aflame with red hot lava by her ice cold touch and he could feel his face blushing for the second time. Her lips however were surprising soft upon his and after a few moments of a shocked struggle, his body began to relax and give into her soothing touch. But soon as he gave in, she pulled way. Leaving him hooked and suspended in what a would have been kiss; relentlessly wishing that he had not given into her so easily. 

She flirted out view and he craned his neck to see what she was doing. He could only just see her out the corner of his eye, folding his clothes meticulously. He suddenly got really confused though continued watching her though it strained his neck in the most awkward of positions. He didn't trust her enough to not keep a close eye on her. He had absolutely no idea how much her sick little mind was capable of. And what ever it is, it will be significantly more imaginative than anything he had ever come up with. This only made his stomach churn more with unexpected anxiousness. He was lying naked in the middle of her floor, tied at either end like a bunch vegetables to cook in boiling water. Everything he feels or had ever felt is there for her taking. 

He watched her absently though, his mind drifting back to the few other memories of his mother weren't saturated with red, ones of her smiling or pulling out weeds from the vegetable garden; happy ones. It almost made him smile. Yet an unexpected noise jolted him back to the harsh reality he was faced with. He saw he bend down to pick something up, her fingers wrap slowly around something that shone even in the dim lighting. His pen knife.

He gulped and cursed himself gritted teeth. This was not at all good. He knew he was doomed. No slither of hope remained. She was going to kill him. However no part of him bothered ask why, he had done nothing to her to deserve the perment affects of death. 

He kept his eyes firmly fixed on the blade as she waltzed about with puzzlement. He opened his mouth to answer her but it took him a few moments to compose himself, knowing that if he sounded confident then perhaps she would have mercy.

"It's mine. I may have used it on a...friend...of mine. You might know him..." He didn't want to give much away as it's very likely that she'll tell someone about what he did to Dennis. But then again, how could what they would do be any worse than what awaited patiently in the next few minutes.

[laurajeankingsley]

@Wes

[laurajeankingsley]

She grinned as he described his torture and grinned wider as his eyes met hers, voice dripping with malice and spit. Here was Wesley. She cocked her head to the side.

“Doctor Sullivan did that?” she laughed “I’ve talked to him… he seemed nice. Key word in that sentence, I suppose, being “seemed”. I knew that he was more fun than that. And Raelynn? I wouldn’t expect her to be the type to court Doctors”

She laughed again as her fingers continued to draw figure eights over his scars.

“And a weeks isolation, too. You must have really…”

Her voice trailed off as her mouth formed into a small O shape before she smiled.

“Was that what the bleeding was? That day that we met? That big, red stain on your shirt. I thought you covered it up quickly”

Her laugh seemed even more ghostly from where she stood in the center of the room with him. She alternated between tracing the features on his face and the features on his chest; knowing from his eyes that her caressing fingers sent shots of both excitement and terror through his soul. She stepped away from him.

“Lie down,” she said, a dark curiosity lacing her voice. She smiled as he did so but remained standing; exhibiting her dominance. “Would you like to see if we can act out the details, Wesley?”

She didn’t wait to hear or see his answer- knowing that regardless of what he wanted, he would comply to her. She took two pairs of pantihose from her bottom draw and danced back over to him. She dangled one over his chest before dropping it on him.

“Tie your feet together, Wesley,” she said, as pleasantly as though she were suggesting he take a walk out in the open air “Tightly”

She continued to stand over him as he did so then, when he had finished, she tugged his wrists over his head so that his head slammed backwards into the hard floor. She knelt down next to him and began wrapping the hose around his wrists, tying them tightly above his head.

“I realise that they aren’t the straps and buckles that you usually prefer but we do the best we can, don’t we, Wesley?” she smiled again and tightened his binds even more before tying the final knot.

She knelt back and let her hands hover back down to his face where he tried to disguise his terror and discomfort from her. She laughed and her fingers trailed around his lips and eyes.

“I have a terrible memory, Wesley. Did you know that?” she smirked “I can’t seem to recall what happened to your chest? Details… please”

[wesleyhughes-rp]

He raised a quizzical eyebrow when she asked him to lie on the floor, though of course he did not protest and quickly flattened himself to the floor where he was just standing moments ago. She danced about him in an airy trance that had that strange effect of making him feel dizzy. Her entire being making his head whirl more and more, keeping him in a constant struggle as he tried to remain calm and collected.

She returned from the other side of the room with something Wes was unfamiliar with but figured that whatever it was she just dropped to the ground in front of him, would add to the mockery of this entire situation. He scratched the nape of his neck as he picked them up and began to wrap and tie it around his ankles. His brows knitted together as his mind shuffled through a lift of things that she might be intending on doing to him. His skin pinched uncomfortably as he yanked on the  tie one last time, wincing only slightly at his self induced pain.

She stood over him though in a crude domineering way where she didn't bother to hide nor accept it. The tiny little girl loomed above him again like vision of death itself--but in a red dress. But yet He still couldn't bring himself to properly look at her though. Everything about her in this instant made him cringe with submissiveness. Somehow supporting the strange unspoken truth within his mind that craved the subjugation. 

Though this was not all he assumed, he let her take his scrawny wrists and tie them briskly together above his head. Now. Now he lay miles from any slither of hope, the unattainable goal, the endless dream of ever being able to right himself again. Nothing will be the same again. The red dress floated like a feather to the ground as she knelt down beside him and teasingly played with his face and chest again. Though definitely not a gesture to be mistaken for affecttion.

He closed his eyes tighter than the last time, the mention of details from the torture were a little hazy and he struggled to remember the specifics, and as much as he hated it, the thing that he remembered the most was begging for them to stop. Something that he was unfortunately making a habit of.

"H-He dragged me down to the basement by my throat then she t-tied me to the table so I couldn't move...He got a knife from somewhere...I don't--...and c-cut down the middle of my chest."

He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, paying close attention to all the fine little details as he told his pathetic fable. His b

"He told me about how he had tortured some of the other patients; how he cut them up too...carved names into their chests." His brows furrowed as he remember his own incident with that faggot boy, Dennis. He had carved a name into his chest; branded him with an unfathomable drunken attempt for power. But being reminded of his failure for control was something she obviously planned to wallow in.

"he sliced deep-deeply between each rib, she went along and burnt all the edges of the skin he just cut and I..." A lump formed in his throat as he struggled to swallow it, lost in a painful particular memory, "I..I begged and pleaded for them to stop; apologised. All I could smell was burning flesh. My burning flesh...It was horrible. I said something things that pissed them off more so Rae spat in my face, kicked me in the chest and pushed me off the table. Doctor Sullivan threatened and choked me again...I-I..." He sighed and closed his eyes again, overcome with the past he though he had repressed. "He burnt my chest again then he left me in a pool of my own fucking blood. Got some intern, Henry, to chuck me in isolation."

He stopped speaking as his story came to a dramatic halt, and it wasn't until he drew himself back into his conscious mind, that he realised he was shivering violently and saturated in tiny beads of sweat. 

[laurajeankingsley]

@Wes

[laurajeankingsley]

She leant against the door as he de-robed, her eyes plastered to his face as he attempted to hide his humiliation. She laughed as his cheeks flushed pink, regardless. She looked him up and down, admiring of the sliver of dignity he held as he stood with his hand resolutely by his sides, refusing to fall to fake modesty. She smiled and waltzed over to him, red skirt flicking at her knees. 

She stopped in front of him staring at his face as he continued to refuse to look at hers. She brought to hands up, holding his face and drawing lines of symmetry down it with trailing fingers, down his neck as well where his Adam’s apple bobbed anxiously. She smirked. Her hands continued to his chest and stopped.

Her fingers drummed along the spidery lines, old wounds and she grinned.

“What have we here, Wesley?” she asked cheerily. She looked up at his face again “Is this someone else who promised not to share your little secret?”

She laughed and aligned her finger-tips along the contour of the broadest of the old cuts.

“What happened?” she asked, digging her fingernails into the almost-healed gash “Do please tell me”

She let her index finger trail along the lines of his scars, illustrating her vicious curiosity. She smiled as her fingers danced over the more raw sections. The heat radiating from his skin made her recognise the iciness of hers and her grin widened at the knowledge that he could feel her inspecting his body, scrupulously.

“Did it bleed a lot?” she asked, nails flicking daintily over the silvering lines “Did it gush red? You would have hated that, wouldn’t you, Wesley?”

She grinned and brought her hand up to his face again; the supposedly gentle touch more menacing than any slap or cut.

“Do please tell me”

[wesleyhughes-rp]

Her touch was overwhelming on his only just healed chest. It tickled and in attempt to hide the truth, he leant his head back to stare at the ceiling, searching it's rafters. It felt as though her fingers left icicles in their wake, covering his hot, raw flesh with tiny shards of ice. He gulped and took slow steady breaths, trying every possible method to not be sucked back into the black abyss for which he had  only just escaped from, as she described red. Toying with his phobia. Though he dared not move away from her silken touch, knowing otherwise she would use it as another vice to humilate him as he tried with every ounce to remain modest.

He shut his eyes tight as the memories of his tortured flooded through his already contaminated mind, searching for a way out of this nightmare. The silence hummed in his ears and he knew that if she didn't get her answer soon enough her red dress won't the only thing that happens to him. His skin still crawling with her touch he took a deep breath and sighed loudly again, keeping his eyes closed as if to provide some tiny barricade of safety.

"I-I pissed off Doctor Sullivan and Rae so they decided to take it upon them selves to teach me a lesson. Uh..." Sensing she wanted more he fixed his attention on her face this time and ignored his peripherals knowing what lay beyond the fringes, "He strapped me to a table and cut my chest and burnt the skin quite a lot."

Remembering what happened all those months ago caused a thin layer of sweat to prickle the edges of his forehead and his upper lip. They had told him not to tell anyone. They had specifically said that if he even breathed a word of this, he would be dead. But he figured out with an inexplicable velocity, that he was, in fact, dead already. 

"They, uh, told me about how they met and that the Doctor does quite a lot of...um...s-stuff like this on other patients." He looked directly into her eyes for the first time and he knew she could see the pain and suffering that glossed his eyes so much that they could even light up a the moonless night sky. 

His next words however, were spoken with such venom and hatred that his vulnerability was momentarily lost. "They choked me, kicked me, cut my chest open, poured alcohol over the fresh cuts and  spat in my fucking face... Chucked me in isolation to rot for a week with no food and nothing but a straight jacket and healing wounds to keep me company."

[shootmedownxx]

[laurajeankingsley]

@Wes

[laurajeankingsley]

She smiled at him: knowing as well as he did that he could do nothing to stop anything she planned. She stepped forward, daintily resting her arm on his as she gestured that they should walk.

“Perhaps somewhere more private?” she suggested.

He nodded steely and waited for her to lead the way as she turned towards the direction of her own room. She didn’t walk quickly: there was no need to rush. She could feel from the tension in his arm that he was anxious and she smiled, laughing in her mind.

“We should have some rules, Wesley. Don’t you think?” she said quietly as they walked “Every deal has rules. For you, I’ll make them simple: obey me, don’t tell anyone - though I doubt you will, that would only make things more disastrous for you, wouldn’t it? - and don’t speak unless your given permission: you’re pathetic enough as it is without more begging. Understood?”

They had reached her room and she stopped, smiling pleasantly as she opened the door and gestured for him to go in.

She closed the door firmly behind herself. The room itself was still and silent and, without the lamp on, almost dark. It was like another world - separate and cut-off from anywhere else. He stood uncomfortably near the centre of the room, looking down at his feet with his hands in his pockets; ashamed at his own vulnerability, and unsure of what was going to happen next. She smiled. It was silent here.

“Remove your clothes,” she said, her voice slicing through the silence, even and venomous “All of them”

She smiled at him as he hesitated for a second. She laughed, the tinkling sound bouncing off the walls- echoing, ghostly; mocking him as he undressed, completely under her control.

[wesleyhughes-rp]

He followed her silently into her room as his stomach churned with an anxious anticipation. Wesley knew that what waited in her room would not be pleasant nor would he be able to regain any tiny sliver of control. They were in her territory now. And that meant anything goes. 

He walked shyly into her room and stood with his head bent and his hands in his pocket. Her rules echoed through his head of a time before this. They all seemed incredibly familiar and in strange moment of understanding, he scoffed a laugh. It rattled his brain as they words almost replicated what he had said to the poor, whimpering Dennis. Though the silence filled the room his head began swirling slightly again as he realised even more so than before, that this this petite girl was far more dangerous and controlling than he could ever hope to be, and that a sent tiny wave of shivers down his spine.

He ignored her broad smile and chose to let his eyes dart about the room, taking in it's contents and perhaps some little minuscule thing that was familiar. He finally and slowly let his eyes rest towards her face though not making direct eye contact; uncomfortable. He closed his eyes for a moment when she commanded him to take his clothes off. He opened them, hesitantly looked around and shifted his weight. Take his clothes off. Of course she'd make him do it. It was like the universe was playing a giant sick joke on him. His escapades with Dennis turning around quickly to slap him in the face viscously.

But like he had said, he would do anything, and like she said, she'd make it difficult.  He sighed a tiny uncomfortable laugh before he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it carelessly to the floor. In any other circumstance then perhaps this one, getting his clothes off with another girl in the room and with the hopeful clouds hanging over their heads, would be a good thing. But everything about this situation was not in the slightest of ways...good. 

Not before too long, he reached his underwear. With a quick glance towards her face he knew that there was absolutely no escape. So with another sigh, he pulled down his final piece of coverage. He bit his lip awkwardly as he began to blush slightly. Today must be a day of firsts because never once had he blushed so much, and even then he rarely blushed before. He didn't want to meet her gaze, he didn't want to cover up with his hands because he knew that even the tiny sign of weakness would make him seem even less to her. And somehow not covering up showed her, though only somewhat, that he was still the tiniest bit in control. His chest was exposed in all it's tortured glory as a reminder as another time and another place where someone had owned him; controlled him.

Now he had absolutely and essentially given her everything. He was nothing but her pathetic little toy. 

[laurajeankingsley]

@Wes

[laurajeankingsley]

“You?” Laura laughed; it tinkled like a bell but was somehow laced with malice “What would I want with you?”

She lifted his chin again with the fingers that still hovered precariously beneath it. Suddenly, with the same hand, she held his cheeks, thumb and forefinger making white marks on either side of his jaw line. She rotated his head from side to side, inspecting it as one might a fruit before biting the flesh.

“Pretty…” It sounded more as though she was commenting on a delicate jewel than a person’s face. She stood up and laughed again at the boy as, almost twice her size, he continued to grovel at her feet.

“You truly don’t have anything else, do you?” she said, still laughing. Her eyes quickly scanned his body once more before she smiled “And you’ll do aything? Yes, you will, won’t you? Alright then, Wesley; you’ve just sold me your soul”

She grinned at him and reached out to lift his face towards her again,

“Now, what shall I have you do?”

She laughed.

[wesleyhughes-rp]

All Wesley could do was nod really quickly and over and over again. No words, or even insults, decided to pop into his tortured mind. This was it. He was a goner. Everything he ever hoped to achieve, the control he craved for, was gone. And all because of some mentally ill girl in a red dress. He gulped as she laughed manically like finger nails on a chalk board and all he could do was continue nodding in hope that if he goes quietly then maybe she will have mercy.

He stood up where he had been grovelling as if to say that he was ready right then and there. His legs cramped as he finally reached his full height, towering of this tiny little girl. He completely dismissed how someone so small, pretty and seemingly kind on the outside, could make this 19 year old man act like a child-- and simply by wearing a red dress.

"Anything..."

The word felt foreign and tasted funny on his tongue. He cursed himself for letting himself give in so easily; loose control. He was bigger, older than her, more experienced, and he folded so easily. But he could do nothing. He has, ultimately, sold her his soul. 

[laurajeankingsley]

@Wes

[laurajeankingsley]

Laura laughed. She laughed at the boy grovelling at her feet; at his patheticness. She had flinched away when he had reached his hands toward her but had relaxed as she realised that they were not threatening; that they were the hands of prayer. But she wasn’t the messiah and she wasn’t an angel of God. She was the anti-Christ. She laughed. 

“I don’t hate you Wesley,” she said cheerily, holding his hands gently in hers “I don’t have enough respect for you for that”

Her smile dropped and she dropped his hands also

“You repulse me,” she murmured “You are pathetic. So why shouldn’t I reveal your secret? I could show the entire world the tiny boy that you are: whimpering, hiding, stuttering, begging little boy”

She laughed again as she stood over him, basking in his vulnerability and her own total control. He was so tiny. She laughed.

“So why shouldn’t I? I want you to tell me. Because wouldn’t telling be so much more fun for me?” she cocked to her head to the side and crouched in front of him so that, suddenly, their eyes were level. She placed her hand gently under his chin “But I like deals. Fun ones, that is. So, what can you give me Wesley? What do you have that’s worth your sanity?”

[wesleyhughes-rp]

His mouth dropped open in a failed attempt at surprise, why, however, he did no know. She was playing with him and he knew it, every part of him wanted to play with her right back but he was the one begging on his knees in front of her. He was the one at her mercy. And now he was offering anything for the sake of his sanity and his image. Her fingers tickled his skin softly, contrasting drastically with her icy cold tinkling voice. She was a night mare. It was like she was sent to be his   doom; destroy him bit by bit.

He gulped loudly and closed his mouth, considering his options. But he knew she would accept just anything. It had to be big, important, not just some special object-- not that he had anything special. He realised instantly and at once his stomach turned to lead, as did his tongue.

"Anything...Anything you want. I-I will...Me. I'll give you myself because i have nothing else. I can do anything, You tell me what to do and I'll do it. No hesitation..." Wesley had the last word linguring on his lips for a while when he realised what he had just said and it made him feel sick, though he new nothing else would ever suffice her. He had his mind in the palm of her hand.  

[laurajeankingsley]

@Wes

[laurajeankingsley]

Laura fell backwards hard enough to send a fast pain shooting up her from her wrist as she braced her fall, making her flinch. Her eyes slowly closed as she controlled the shaking of her arms from both the physical shock of falling and her own anger at her momentary lack of control. She sat up as her hands curled gently into fists, not clenched- just folded; a reminder to herself of the control that she constantly maintained over her own muscles.

While bringing herself up onto her knees, Laura turned her body to face Wesley once more, relaxing her hands. He sat huddled on the couch again. It disgusted her to have to look up to see his face so, steadily, she stood up. She looked down on him, displaying both her dominance over him and his own weakness at this moment; she had the power. Not hesitating any longer, she grabbed either side of his face and forced th boy to look up at her all over again. Her voice was steady and dangerously quiet as she spoke:

“Don’t try to harm me like that again. Do you understand? Because if you hurt me, even accidentally, I will hurt you. And I know your weakness, now: I can turn your life into a complete hell. I could drive you insane. More insane than now: You won’t be able to sleep. You won’t be able to speak. You won’t be able to breathe. And no-one will know what’s happening except you and I because even if you tell them they’ll just say you’re paranoid and delusional and they’ll give you more and more medication until you can’t even move. You’ll just be this terrified vegetable; lying in bed, consumed by your nightmares. And you and I will know that it was me that put you there. I know your weakness; I can do that to you. I will do that to you. So don’t you hurt me, Wesley. Don’t even try. I’ll hurt you back”

[wesleyhughes-rp]

He kept his eyes away from hers, continuing to tediously counted the light above him. Though he'd already counted them all through half a dozen times already, he started again as she continued to control himself more. Breathing slowly and methodically, he tried ignored her petty insults but something caught his attention and snapped his head quickly to meet her eyes.

She could tell people. Dennis. He could come back and do worse to him than he did to him. Dr Sullivan could use it against him for the rest of his living life. This...This was bad; disaterous. Without thinking it through and in a state of panic he rolled onto his knees. His eyes widened and began to slightly water. Though not touching her, he reached out his hands towards her and let them hover in the space between them.

"Don't. D-Don't tell anyone about this. Please. I...P-please. I can't have anyone know about this..." The pitiful desperation undeniable in his voice as he begged her, "Please I never did anything to you...I-I-I-I beg you, please, please don't do this. I know you hate me, everyone does" Her face showed nothing and realised she needed more, as Wesley's begging got more weak and pathetic; his eyes filling up stinging tears. With a pained sigh, he slid off the couch and onto knees on the ground. He stared up at her with such inferiority and self loathing. 

"Look. I'm on my knees. Please, please don't tell anyone. I b-beg of you. I-I'll do anything..."

[laurajeankingsley]

@Wes

[laurajeankingsley]

Her hand was ever so smooth on his face and it made his cheek burn with embarrassment, her voice like a silver bell tinkling in his ear. He closed his eyes to avoid any further hypnosis and jerked his head away from her and attempted to slide across the floor creating some distance between them. He rubbed his eyes furiously still trying to rid his mind of the images that haunt him.

He choose to ignore her petty little remarks and focus calming himself down more so he can leave. He knew he was likely to make more of a fool out of himself if he got up and tried to leave; stumbling and getting more confused. He sighed in frustration at how so quickly he lost control of himself. How his internal landscape had a much greater hold on him than he could ever imagine.

Wesley jerked his head away sharply and Laura snarled as the movement bent her wrist back. She looked down at him, jaw clenched, as he closed his eyes, breathing deep. She could feel her disgust at his weakness rising in her chest; he was so openly vulnerable. It was revolting. 

She reached out again, grabbing a handful of his hair once more, intending to jolt his head towards her again but instead, changing her mind, pushing it violently away. The sudden change in momentum caused his head to land hard on the ground and she relished the moment for a second before moving forward. Crouching down, she swung her leg over Wesley’s body and, leaning down so their faces were close, eye contact became unavoidable. She smiled.

“Are you afraid, Wesley? Are you scared?” she murmured, “Because I’m bored. And I can be terrifying.”

She leaned in even closer so her breath was hot in his ear “Are you terrified, Wesley? How scared is the big bad wolf of Little Red?”

She turned her head to the side slightly and, as if to prove a point, bit down, vampire-like and meticulous into the flesh underneath the boy’s ear.

[wesleyhughes-rp]

He grunted in pain as head slammed unexpectedly and he closed his eyes as he could have sworn he'd seen stars. Oblivious to the fact the girl in the red dress was sitting on to of him, he was about to cover his face with his eyes when he felt a sharp stabbing pain engulf his neck. With a start he shoved the girl off him with such hidden strength that she flew across the room. He didn't see her land, not daring to look, only heard her thud against the solid ground. Swiftly he scrambled helplessly onto the couch and drew his legs up to his chest again in a small act of comfort.

Wesley pushed his sweat soaked hair of his face, not even so much as a glance to the girl he tilted his head back to stare up to the ceiling. Focusing his mind on something else may make it the still ghostly thought leave faster so he counted the horrible incandescent lights that spotted the roof. 1, 2, 3... While distracting himself his hand touched the spot where she had bit him and Wesley became strangely puzzled as this girl in one simple move, controlled him; had his sorry self completely and utterly at the mercy of her actions.  

[ivebeenrobbed1-blog]

[hermiola]

[dr-albert-sullivan-blog]

*sighs loudly, keeping his hands at Wes’ throat and lets the spit drip down his face*

Ohh, that’s fucking original. You think someone hasn’t done that before? Huh? Wow…. Fuck you Wes.

As for your little dare? I don’t need to be dared to do anything to you. I torture people when I WANT to. I’ve tortured lots, they start coming out of the woodwork if you ask. Raelynn, Tim, Tom, Jennifer, you…. You’ll find I get along with most of them now. You probably won’t be so fucking lucky.

So. I could waste my energy hurting you, knowing full well that you’ll probably come back over and over again to pester me. Or…… I could just throw you out and see what happens.

I don’t like any of those options. But for my health I suppose I should take a raincheck on this fight. Nice spitting though. Good fucking try.

If I catch you in here again, I will do worse to you, you hear me?

Now fucking get out of my office and leave me the hell alone. *yanks Wes towards the door, using up all of his energy at once before opening the door and shoving the patient out*

[wesleyhughes-rp]

*He stumbles over his own feet and falls to the ground outside of the door, chuckling in both relief and amusment. He jumps up quickly bringing his hand to his face in a mocking salute*

I suppose I'll see you for my next appointment. Pleasure doing business with you. Coward.

*with that final word lingering in the air he saunters off towards his room* 

[laurajeankingsley]

@Wes

[laurajeankingsley]

He protested for a moment before focussing hard on naming his devil.

“Pardon?” she murmured, cocking her head to the side, playing dumb “I couldn’t hear you… would you be able to repeat it a little louder?” Red. It was as simple as that- a simple colour. She looked down at him, curious. What did it morph into? A raging fire? The blood of a loved one? The devil himself? Whatever it was, it consumed him completely. She’d seen it. In less than a second he had stopped in his tracks; stammering and sweating and shaking. He still shook now, she noticed. 

 ”Oh,” she said, faux-sympathy lacing her voice. She relaxed her grip on his face with her left hand, stroking along the line of his cheekbone a couple of times with her thumb before sweeping her hand right around that side of his his face, stroking it as her hand finished cupping his chin, her thumb tracing the line of his lips. “You look so worried” She lifted his chin a little and smiled, “Won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” 

[wesleyhughes-rp]

Her hand was ever so smooth on his face and it made his cheek burn with embarrassment, her voice like a silver bell tinkling in his ear. He closed his eyes to avoid any further hypnosis and jerked his head away from her and attempted to slide across the floor creating some distance between them. He rubbed his eyes furiously still trying to rid his mind of the images that haunt him.

He choose to ignore her petty little remarks and focus calming himself down more so he can leave. He knew he was likely to make more of a fool out of himself if he got up and tried to leave; stumbling and getting more confused. He sighed in frustration at how so quickly he lost control of himself. How his internal landscape had a much greater hold on him than he could ever imagine.

[jackson-harrison-blog]

@Wes

[jackson-harrison-blog]

*looks over at him, just raising an eyebrow* What are you screaming about, you little homo? I don’t see your name on it, so … I can see where I like. America’s the land of the free, yeah. So run along, little boy. *takes a long pull on his cigarette and blows the smoke into Wes’s face* Ever threaten me again, I rip off that pathetic little cock of yours and ram it down your throat. Okay? Good. Fuck off.

[wesleyhughes-rp]

*raises his eye brow skeptically at the insult and proceeds to burst out laughing.*

Are you serious? Really? Oh my, that...that was a good one. Really. It's a shame  you're stuck in here you could have really done something with you're humour...