5. Blue

Chapter 5

Blue

What thing did I see in my mind?

A pleasing hue of a new kind.

" R ight there." Sweat covers me as the odd, warm glow consumes me. I whimper, my hips grinding upwards as I feel myself drawing closer to something. I feel like a coil wound too tight, and I'm about to explode. "Oh. no... Oh?—"

"That's it," his voice purrs. "Give me your release." I roll my head back and scream as a pleasurable burn consumes me, and something foreign and bright crosses my vision like a flicker.

Bolting straight up, I gasp, looking around the greyscale room. I'm drenched in sweat and... did I wet myself? Reaching down, I whimper at how wet and sensitive I am between my thighs. Was that... Did I have an inappropriate dream about that masked man?

"Naughty Dolly." The playful voice startles me, my cheeks burning with both embarrassment and the lingering heat of my dream.

"Havoc?" I call out into the darkness, the fire crackling as I slide further into the layers of furs. "Havoc, is that you?"

Havoc steps from the shadows of the corner of the room, grinning as she holds something within her hands. "Little dolls shouldn't play with themselves. Only bugs." She opens her hands as a tiny little bug flies from her grasp. A Firefly. "Havoc knows something you do not."

"I wasn't playing with myself," I snap while watching the bug. "Wait, what do you know?"

Havoc crawls to the foot of my bed. "You must keep your innocence, for it is not yours to take." She points to me, her single eye bouncing around, as if watching a ghost float around the room. "Green snake eyes choose your fate. Let him teach you since you know nothing." Havoc's eye shoots to me as she giggles. My entire face burns as I realize what she's saying.

"I know plenty about sex, thank you!" I pull at the furs, knocking Havoc to the floor as she cackles out loud, kicking her feet in the air.

"Dolly knows nothing!" she speaks between her unnatural laughter. "Closed eyes!"

I stare at her, frustrated by her teasing. "You should really go home, Havoc. I'm sure your boss is looking for you."

Havoc rises from the floor, her laughter immediately silenced as she peers up at me. "Boss is playing games." She grips the furs hanging from the side of my bed, clawing her way on top as she hovers over me. "Many games." She tilts her head as her sinister smile grows, her sharp teeth on full display. I turn to look away, frightened of what she might do next. The sound of my racing heartbeat fills my ears as Havoc's distant laughter pulls my attention back only to find her gone. It's as if she vanished into thin air.

"THE DOLLY!" I cringe at Havoc's shriek as she runs toward me.

"Havoc," I smile softly, "Helloo f—" Havoc tackles me to the ground before straddling my waist.

"Why, oh why, does the Dolly walk with her head toward the ground? Can't Dolly see? The bug she is after doesn't crawl in the dead dirt but flies high in the sky," she whispers in my ear before jumping from me and standing. I give her an awkward smile before freezing. There he is, the same masked man who saved me before, the very one from my sinful dream. Thoughts of it flood into my mind as my cheeks become hot.

"Fascinating," Havoc muses while poking my cheek. "Boss man! Blue and red can be both, not just one. Very important. Not all will be purple. But purple is pretty, like Charisma and Dolly. Not Sullen." She makes a face, as if grossed out.

The masked man walks up to us, and it's only now that I realize just how tall and broad he really is. I have to crane my neck to meet his gaze, or, well, to look into the black holes that I assume his eyes are located behind.

"Havoc," the man says, still focusing on me, his invisible gaze heavy on my skin. Havoc races to his side, her hand above her brow.

"Sir," she asks, furrowing her brows dramatically.

"Fuck off," he states simply. She salutes him before skipping off, making kissing noises as she goes.

"H-i-i," I say softly, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. "I guess I owe you a thanks for saving my life." I hear him scoff.

"Don't mention it. Just make sure you return my knife." He grunts before turning to leave. I quickly run after him, not wanting to lose my chance to talk to him again. "I-I'm new here. Obviously. I'm actually from the other world, Deadmoor. Do you know of it?" He scoffs while continuing to walk, and it takes everything I have to keep up with his impressive long strides.

"I'm well aware of that hell hole, Doll face, along with that cunt who created you." Cunt? Did he mean the Creator?

"Y-you are?" I whisper, running in front of him, intrigued and slightly scared. "Y-you know her, and you saved me from the Boogeyman. Havoc, she works for you... right? There's so much I don't know?—"

"The Boogeyman?" He stops, snapping. His voice sends tingles throughout my body like I've never experienced before. "I saved you from the Boogeyman?"

"Well... yes. He was with that?—"

"You," he states firmly. "He is with you, right now." My brows furrow as I look around us before the realization of what he's saying hits me.

"You," I breathe, looking at his mask. " You're the boogeyman?"

"Your name for me, not mine," he mutters before turning to leave.

"Well, if that's not your name, then what is?" I ask, still trying to keep up with him, my platform shoes scraping along the dirt. "Mine is Blue." He stops walking, whipping around to stare at me.

"How original. You come up with that one all by yourself?" He taunts as I feel heat flood my cheeks once more as I shake my head.

"N-No, I— my creator. She named me." He tsks, breathing out a dry laugh.

"Well, I guess I can't say much. At least you got a name." Furrowing my brows, I run around to face him. Does he mean he's also a creation?

"Are you from Dreadmoor?" I whisper the question as the eyeholes of his mask look into mine. I wonder what he sees in these wretched buttons. I love eyes. I'm so jealous of the emotions they hold, the depth in them.

"I was," he murmurs. "The Spinst—your creator and I didn't really get along, though." He moves around me to start walking again.

"Wait, are you from there? Are your eyes—" He stops and looks over his shoulder back at me.

"That's enough questions. I don't enjoy chatting, especially not with creations." Technically, we're both creations. I release a huff of annoyance.

We walk in silence for a moment before we come across Havoc in the distance, skipping in a circle, singing a rather terrifying song to herself.

"Havoc," I smile softly. "She's— unique ."

"She's bat shit crazy is what she is." I let out a giggle, which seems to startle him. "What?" I giggle lightly again as he stares at me in bewilderment.

"What are you doing?" His entire body is tense and on edge.

"Laughing?" I say slowly as he shakes his head.

"Well... stop. I don't like it. It makes me uncomfortable." He shudders at the idea.

"Laughing makes you uncomfortable? Well, geez, I bet the kids just love yo— oh... Right." Good one, Blue . I can't see his glare, but I can feel it burning the side of my face. I bite my lip nervously before continuing with my non-stop questioning. "You hate her? The Creator?" I already know the answer; no one loves or even likes the creator, but none of us are brave enough to outright admit our hatred for her.

He laughs. "Of course. I wish her the slowest of deaths." I gasp at his words while stepping back, almost tripping myself.

"What if she hears you?" I hiss, looking around the tree line, waiting to feel her sudden presence as I slightly hunch over in fear.

"She knows better than to come here," he snarks. "She comes here, and she's... well... " His voice trails off as a devious smirk forms on his mask. "She won't, as she's just like me."

"Like you?" I ask, mesmerized by his bold statement.

"Oh, Doll face, did you really think she started making her creatures as you are now? Button eyed dolls with dull skin and no use?" I flinch at the cruelty in his words. "No, she's learned, honed her skill and craft over the centuries, almost perfecting it. See, I was her first creation, made in her image."

"In her image? You mean... You've seen her?" I'm in shock. No one in Dreadmoor has seen her true form, only the fa?ade in which she presents herself. She's a shadow, an evil force so powerful, she needs no shape.

"No more questions," he warns as he starts walking.

"But I just?—"

"Doll face," he taunts slowly, and I'm reminded of my dream, causing me to subconsciously squeeze my thighs together. "That is enough," he replies slowly.

"Fine," I reply. "But, just one last question and I'll go." To my surprise, he sighs, stopping as he stands in front of me, crossing his arms, waiting. "Do you really not have a name?" It's a sad thought, really, being unnamed. Even though my name is odd and picked in a moment of haste with no care, it's mine. Everyone deserves to have a name.

"You think I'm just hiding my name from you for fun?" He snickers, apparently amused. I'll take amusement over annoyance or the anger he's shown.

"Well, no. I just feel weird not having a name to refer to you by. What does Havoc call you?" I ask softly.

"Boss man. Bug, which I have no idea why. Or Sir." He looks me up and down. "Do you want to call me Sir, Doll face?" His voice is low and husky as he speaks and I feel my knees knock together as I swallow hard.

"N-no. I want to call you by your name," I huff out, uncomfortable with what my treacherous body is doing to me. I don't even know what he looks like! It's completely unfair that he has this ability to instantly pull me. Is that a power our creator gave to him? Persuasion? Illusion? These are all things she's known for in my world. Here in Nightmare, is this his sandbox? Does he control what I see? How I feel? He must be doing something to have this kind of power over me. He's the Boogeyman, after all. Or at least, that's what everyone else called him.

"So pick one." His voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I notice him looking over me again. Why does he keep doing that?

"You want me to name you?" I nearly laugh at the asinine suggestion. I don't even know him. How could I possibly name him?

"I wouldn't say you're naming me. I'm not your child or pet. But you're your own being; you can decide what you would like to call me."

"And what? You're just going to answer to it?" He shrugs, leaning his back against the trunk of the tree.

"Guess that'll depend on if I like it or not."

I stand, watching as he fumbles with his mask, obviously uncomfortable beneath it. Havoc continues to sing and twirl off in the distance, completely unaware of our presence.

"Why don't you just take it off?" I ask.

"What?" He freezes, gripping the hem of the mask.

"The mask," I gesture to the fabric with my finger. "Why don't you just take it off? It's obviously bothering you. It can't be easy to breathe under there." I step toward him, my hand reaching out for it. "Take it off,"

"What the hell—" He shouts, grabbing my wrist as my fingers brush the thick brim. I gasp, frightened and slightly excited by his grip. The burlap gloves are rough but warm, causing my skin to prickle in response.

"Why won't you take it off?" I ask in a shy, whispered voice. He yanks my arm down as my body lunges into his, tripping on my platforms. I fall forward, slamming into him. He tilts his head, his breathing loud and heavy as I feel something push against my hip. My hand moves, accidentally touching it as my body reacts, pushing away as I step back. "I-I should go," I stammer out, quickly rushing away, flustered and overcome by the heavy energy that hangs in the air.

"Bye, Dolly!" Havoc screeches in the distance as I bolt away, flustered and disheveled.

I touched it. I touched the Boogeyman's dick.

I can't sleep. Instead, I've spent hours scribbling in my journal, unable to form a single word, let alone a sentence. My mind continues to loop over that moment, the memory of his hard bulge forever seared into my brain. It's as if I can still feel it against my palm, pushing into me. The very idea causes my heart to race as sweat begins to bead around my forehead, my core aching and throbbing. What is wrong with me? I slam my head into my pillow, groaning as I struggle to grasp what's happening.

The sound of the floor creaking causes me to raise my head as I peek over the pillow into the darkness of my room, shadows dancing across the walls and floor as the fire crackles next to me. My hand trembles as I snatch Mr. Whiskers, holding him close while I move the pillow aside and step onto the floor, my mismatched stockings highlighted by the moonlight.

"H-hello?" I call out, half expecting Havoc to pop out of hiding. Aside from the dull fire, there's no noise. No response. I slowly inch toward my open bedroom door, glancing into the dark hall beyond. "Hello?" The sound of creaking wood startles me as I rush back into my room, slamming the door behind me while locking it. I lean against the wooden door exhaling with relief.

"Doll face." His voice startles me, causing me to drop my sweet little rat and release a screech of terror. The Boogeyman is leaning against the partially opened window, staring at me through his mask, his arms crossed while playing with a set of dice. "Someone's jumpy." He tilts his head, amusement in his voice. "My dick didn't scare you that bad, now did it?"

My face burns with horror as shame from what happened earlier fills me. His blunt, crude words take me by surprise, and I'm suddenly unable to speak. "I-I-I?—"

He pushes himself off the window, stepping toward me as I remain still, sweating and on fire, watching as he stops and slowly lowers himself in front of me, his mask moving as he looks me over. I swallow, running my tongue over my lips as he grips Mr. Whiskers, taking his time to rise, only inches from my body.

"Lose something?" he whispers, settling the rat into my hand, his burlap brushing my skin in the process.

"Thank you," I breathe, pulling Mr. Whiskers close to my chest as I stare up at him towering over me. "What're you doing here?" I asked. "Is Havoc with you?"

"Havoc is lost in her own little world doing whatever it is she does. I'm here alone." Alone? "Are you okay?" He reaches his hand out, gently wiping away the beads of sweat that have formed on my forehead. "You seem?—"

"I'm fine!" I squeal, ducking from his touch and rushing to my bed. I curl up, bringing my knees to my chest as the hem of my dress flares around my hips. I'm embarrassed, shy, and filled with so many emotions. My nerves are taking control, making me a mess.

He stands at the door, quietly observing me for a few minutes before speaking. "How do you feel about games?" A flicker runs across my button eyes, almost like an instant response. All creations like games. It's an odd characteristic we seemly inherited from the Creator when sewn together. She loves games, and as a result, so do we.

"Everybody likes games," I mutter, resting my chin on my knee.

"Well then," he approaches the bed, sitting next to me, "you're going to love this one. It's called Truth or Dare." He leans in close.

"Never heard of it," I snap, turning my head away.

"Oh, is the toy scared to play the Boogeyman's game?" he teases me.

"I'm not a toy!" I growl, slamming my knees into the bed as I whirl toward him, my fists squeezing at my side as I smack him with Mr. Whiskers.

"Keep that disgusting thing away from me!" he groans, flinching from the stuffed rat. "I don't know how you can stand it, let alone sleep with that nasty rodent. Fucking stinks!"

I stop, gasping at his words. "How do you know I sleep with Mr. Whiskers?" He straightens his posture. "Answer me!" I raise the rat's body, ready to strike when he speaks.

"Okay, okay! Havoc told me. Now would you please lower that damn thing? It reeks. Fucking hell." My arm drops. It doesn't surprise me knowing Havoc has been snooping around while I was asleep. Seems like a very Havoc thing to do. "Now, do you want to play my game, or should I just leave?" The idea of him leaving saddens me. I'm growing to really like his presence, and honestly, I want to play his game.

Shaking my head, I look up at him. "How do you play?" I ask, tucking the rat next to my bent knees.

"It's simple, really. We take turns asking one question at a time, which the other person must answer honestly. If they refuse to answer, then they must do whatever the other player says."

"Seems easy enough. Why would someone not answer a question?" I ask, genuinely curious. He tilts his head, scoffing at my words.

"I guess we'll have to find out, now won't we, Doll face?" He pulls out a set of dice, rolling them across the bed as he speaks. "Even, I go first. Odd, you." I watch the dice bounce as they land. "Two. Snake eyes. Looks like I get to go first." Snake eyes? "Let's see." He taps his chin. "Why are you here, in Nightmare?"

My stomach drops as I recall the events that led me to my banishment. Lowering my head, I feel a heavy amount of sadness begin to consume me. "I defied her, the Creator, so she sent me here as punishment. Discarded me—" My words break as I sniffle, fighting back tears. Like trash .

"Hey, this game isn't meant to make you sad. Knock that off." He motions to my face. "Fix it. And go; it's your turn."

I wipe my face, forcing back my tears as I inhale, shoving my feelings back. "Okay. Why do you hate the Creator so much?"

He turns his head. "Ask a different question."

"No, you said each player had to answer truthfully. I asked my question, now answer it." He leans toward me, breathing heavily behind his mask.

"Are you telling me what to do, Doll face?" I press my lips together, squeezing my fingers tight as I stare into those dark eye holes of his mask, struggling to calm my heart. "You like ordering me around now, do you?"

"I-it's not your turn. You said?—"

"Fuck what I said. Choose a different question." He pulls back, annoyed.

"That's not how you play."

"Oh? And you suddenly know how to play so well?" I glare at him, my hands now balled into fists atop my bent knees as I wait for him to answer me. "Fine," he groans. "Give me a dare."

"What is a dare?" My hands relax as I sound out the foreign word.

"Just tell me to do something—anything." He's obviously annoyed by me and our game, which in return frustrates me as well. This is his game; he has to play by the rules. I watch him as he picks at the thick burlap mask, and an idea forms in my mind.

"And you have to do it?" I asked, slightly excited.

"Mhm." He nods.

"Take off your mask."

He turns, looking at me. "What?"

"You heard me. If you refuse to answer my question, then I demand you take off your mask." I grin, pleased with myself, knowing I have him trapped. I may not know this game, but like other creations, I'm good at all of them. A quick learner.

"You demand now, do you? And what if I refuse?"

"Then you have to answer my question: why do you hate our Creator?"

" Your creator," he growls. "You know," he stands, "I could just end this little game by walking out that door. Or better yet... " He grips his knife I have been keeping next to my bed, tucked slightly under the mattress. "I could end it for you in a much more fun way." He sets the tip of his knife under my chin, raising my head as he watches me.

"Where's the fun in that?" I ask, raising a brow.

He scoffs, watching me as he ponders his decision. "Fine." He drops my chin, removing the knife. "Fucking dolls," he mumbles, gripping the edge of his mask. He takes his time, slowly removing it as something glows from underneath.

I can't help but gasp, my hands covering my mouth in pure astonishment. He's unlike anything I've seen before. Not only is he attractive, with dark hair and a strong jawline, but he's completely covered in strange markings, all of which are glowing in the moonlight. "What is that?" I ask, standing to my feet. "Wha—" I reach my hand out to touch his face. "I?—"

He grips my wrist once more, stopping me as I stare, in awe at him. "A sick joke. Your creator decided to cover my entire body in this." He motions to the markings etched across his face, glowing unlike anything I've encountered before. "Blacklight tattoos that glow all colors in the never-ending night, always signaling where I am so that she can find me even in the shadows." I can't process his words, consumed by this new spectrum before me.

"What's color ?" I ask, sounding out the strange word as my eyes trail across his features, studying every single marking and detail.

"What? Your name is Blue, and you don't know what color is?" I shake my head.

"Is it this?" I force my hand from his grip, touching his cheek with my fingers as his eyes widen. His skin is warm and smooth —inviting. My hand looks dull compared to this color as he calls it. It's so intriguing. I can't help but to be curious.

"Blue..." The way he says my name makes my heart skip a beat. My eyes meet his as he places a hand over mine, tilting my head as he speaks in a sweet tone to me. "Do you not see color?"

My eyes bounce from his to his marking. "I see this," I whisper, tapping the vibrant, glowing colors. "I've never seen it before. Any of them. What are they?"

"Well, these are color tattoos, something I'm covered in."

"Everywhere?" I asked sheepishly.

He raises a brow as his lips tug into a smirk. "Everywhere," he repeats, his voice low.

"Why are they—the colors—different? The world I see isn't like this. It's dull, missing this." I touch his nose gently. "It's almost like the glow I see from a Firefly, but brighter. Oh!" I chime, startling him. "I got it."

"Got what?" he asks.

"Your name." I smile. "Firefly."

"Really? That's the best you can come up with?" He grins, causing butterflies to flutter in my stomach. I cross my arms over my chest.

"Well, if you don't like it," I pout, "then you shouldn't have let me pick!" I turn away from him, itching to see more of his colored tattoos, but annoyed by his insult.

A slow sigh escapes his lips, a mix of resignation and amusement. "Firefly it is," he confirms with a sly smirk. I gasp as his hand twists around my waist, pulling me closer to him until we're face-to-face. My Firefly. His dark gaze lingers on my skin, causing a tingling sensation as he leans closer, the energy in the room thickening with each silent second as he simply stares at me. "It's my turn to ask a question," he finally speaks, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine. With a nod, I wait for his inquiry, feeling both nervous and excited, but also entranced by his beauty. I can't look away. His amused chuckle brings me back to reality, "You think this," he gestures towards his own face, radiating with an otherworldly glow, "is something to behold? Just wait until you see the rest of me." He winks playfully, igniting a spark of anticipation within me for what is yet to come.

"Can I?" I asked, surprised by my own question.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure it's still my turn, Doll face." Firefly brushes his dark hair back, a single strand falling perfectly in front of his eyes. My button eyes trail down, drawn to the colorful designs peeking from the base of his neck as he leans back, comfortably positioning himself across the foot of my bed.

"Why do you have two different colored buttons?" He points to my eyes and I still instantly, a woosh of cold rushing over me at the unexpected question falling from his lips. "Every creation I've seen dawdling around here in Nightmare has black buttons." He absently plays with a loose thread hanging from his burlap suit. "So, why not you? What makes you so special?"

I stare back at him, completely and utterly speechless. His question holds more weight and hurt than I want to delve into. I don't want to think of why, or that I, in fact, am not special. My Creator simply broke my other black button when she was making me and couldn't be bothered to grab another. Couldn't be bothered because I am nothing special.

I force an overwhelming wave of sadness and tears back as my fingers pick at one another, the truth behind my unusual appearance being one that has haunted me since creation. I want to tell him the truth, but the thought of him knowing and then possibly losing interest in me... It's unsettling. I can't explain why, but I want him to want me– to enjoy me, and no one wants or enjoys a pile of scraps. "It's nothing," I breathe, my voice shaking lightly.

"That's not an answer," he replies boredly. I glance toward him, forcing a smile.

"Not everything has an answer," I snip, causing him to raise a brow at my little display of a temper. He bites down on his bottom lip before running his thumb across it. Is he amused by my anger? "Ask me another question,"

"Oh no you don't," he teases. "You know the rules. Answer the question or do what I ask." My head lowers in defeat. I want to be truthful, especially after how I just hounded him for the same thing, but I'm not ready to tell him this part of me. Not yet.

Inhaling deeply, I straighten my posture while shoving the feelings back into the depths of my consciousness, before giving him direct eye contact. "Dare."

A flicker of something unreadable dances in the depths of his dark irises, as if my single word has sparked a whole new level to his twisted game. He sits up, the frame of my bed creaking beneath him, and fixes me with a predatory gaze. His lips curl into a sly grin as he speaks, his voice dripping with amusement. "Interesting," he purrs, his tone sending shivers down my spine. "Now, let's see... What kind of dare should I pick for a pretty little doll like yourself?" My cheeks flush with heat at his words, my mind reeling at the thought of being referred to as "pretty" by the notorious Boogeyman himself. He leans back again, lost in thought as he considers his next move while I sit here, half shell-shocked and living on the edge of every word that falls from his lips. The seconds stretch on like hours, each passing moment adding to the growing tension between us, until finally, he breaks the silence and speaks once more.

His eyes bore into mine with a predatory glint, a smile slowly spreading across his lips that speaks of both seduction and malice. I can't help but wonder if it's the first time he's smiled. "I dare you," he growls, his voice laced with a dangerous edge, "to take off your tights." My body tenses at the unexpected request. Why does he want me to do this? "Now," he snaps impatiently, and a jolt of fear shoots through my veins as I realize his controlling demand leaves no room for negotiation.

"Y-yes, sir," My voice shakes as I slide off the bed under his intense gaze. My shaking fingers trail up my legs and slip beneath the fabric of my dress, sending shivers down my spine.

"Good girl," he whispers, his low, velvety voice sending shivers down my spine. I comply with his command, peeling the tights off my skin in slow motion. Striped on one half and adorned with stars on the other, they reveal the pale, stitched skin of my legs. As I kick them towards the foot of the bed, his arm snakes out and catches them effortlessly. His eyes never leave me as he brings the tights to his face, inhaling deeply. "My, my, my, what do we have here?" He takes another sniff and closes his eyes, savoring the scent of my nylon-clad skin. "You smell like the shadows of the moon at night; like wild snapdragons blooming under the black light, eagerly waiting for someone to come and pluck them." With a dismissive toss, he discards my tights. "A delicious surprise indeed." I can feel myself blushing as I crawl across the bed on my knees, quickly adjusting my skirt to avoid exposing anything. "N-now what?" My voice quivers as I try to regain composure.

"Now," he reclines on the bed, eyeing the hem of my dress with hunger in his gaze, "it's your turn to ask me a question. Unless you're feeling too nervous." His smirk only intensifies my flustered state.

Too nervous? Is he expecting me to bow out and just let him win? Is he purposely teasing and mocking me by using my innocence against me? I furrow my brows and press my lips together as my competitive side wakes up, ready to take control. Well, two can play that game. I cock my head at him. "I dare you to show me more of your—" I swirl my fingers around, motioning to his body. "Color."

Firefly chuckles to himself. "You didn't even ask me a question."

"Fine. Will you show me more of your color?" I can't help but smile at myself, proud in the way I've manipulated the game in my own personal favor. Firefly watches me, amused with my words.

"Clever little doll." He slowly lifts his hand, taking his sweet time as he begins to remove his burlap glove. "But you're not the only one with a cunning side." He lifts the glove, completely revealing his glowing, colorful hand. "See? More color." He wiggles his long, inked fingers, color emanating from his skin. My mouth drops open, both amazed by the color and irritated by his cleverness.

"You might want to close that pretty little mouth of yours." He leans forward, gently brushing the underside of my chin with his forefinger as he pushes against my face, closing my mouth. "Never know what might land in it." My jaw tightens with an odd feeling of fear and anxiety. "What's wrong, Doll face? Cat got your tongue?"

"No," I snap, crossing my arms. "But now, it's my turn again."

"You just went."

"Ah— you just went. You asked me a question, and I answered." A mischievous grin spreads across my face as I watch the wheels turning in his head. He has caught on to my tactic, and his own smile fades, replaced by a grumbling annoyance. With my hands placed delicately on the bed, my hair cascading down my arms, I tilt my head towards him and sing, "Now it's my turn." I gesture my head toward him. "Can you show me even more?" My buttons sparkle, enamored by this new idea of color, the various hues and shades completely absorbing my thoughts. The added bonus of Firefly undressing, well, that isn't so bad either.

"I can." He removes his second glove, revealing more colors etched across his skin. "But it's going to cost you. Out there it's an eye for an eye, but with me, it's skin for skin."

"That's not how you play the game." I rear back, my face burning with annoyance and anticipation.

"Says who?" His fingers lightly brush over my hand, tracing the tops of them as they run along my wrists and slowly up my arm. "You said yourself you didn't know how to play this game." His eyes meet mine, and a shiver runs through me. "Come on now, we haven't got all night. Pay up, Doll face." Firefly snaps his glowing fingers at me.

I lean back, my hand shaking as I reach over and slowly unzip the back of my dress. I can feel his gaze weighing heavy over my skin as I cautiously begin to remove my long sleeve dress, the fabric rolling down my arms as his hungry eyes fuel my movements. I would never do such a thing if I was still in Dreadmoor, but there's something about being here, being with him.

The Boogeyman, here, watching me undress, as if I'm feeding him the sweetest treat. There's almost a kind of underlying power stitched within this naughty little act. I have something over him, something foreign and controlling, and I need to explore it and learn more.

I stop, resting the warm material of my dress across my breasts, my heart racing as I watch his breathing become more labored than before. "That's not all the way off," he states huskily.

"The rest will cost you more. One glove doesn't equal my whole dress, sir. " He blinks and cocks his head. It's as if he expects me to follow whatever he says with no question or comeback. Like I'm... well, a creation. The problem is, I'm not like her other creations. There's very little blind faith with me and my Creator. She tells me to jump, and I will ask her why before she forces me to do it. It's the problem you run into while building someone from the scraps in a trash bin– you never know fully what you'll get.

"Nah." He raises up, now sitting on the edge of my bed. "You've got spunk, I'll give you that, Blue." Hearing him say my name melts me from my chest to my core. "But now, it's my turn. And my next question is very simple." He stands, stepping to my side, staring down at me, my head reaching just below his face. "Why don't we stop playing these childish games, and play something more?" He reaches his hand forward, stroking my lower lip as I release the tiniest moan. "Exciting." My eyes fall from him to the crackling fire, nervous and clueless as to what he means. Is he talking about adult games? Or, adult games ? I can feel my body shrinking into itself. "Oh, Doll face," he coos, rubbing my mouth with his thumb. It feels so good, I want to pull it into my mouth and suck on it. Do his glowing lights have a taste? Are they warmer than the rest of him?

"You know what I mean, don't you?" My response is silence. What am I to say? Sorry, I was kept in a room alone most of my existence and your thumb on my lips is the most sexual experience I've encountered. Yeah that wouldn't cause him to laugh. "Interesting," he muses while gently removing his thumb while stepping back away from the bed. "Never met a virgin before."

I recoil at the label. Perfect. Of course he doesn't want to play with me now. I'm inexperienced and have no idea what to do with him. A worthless virgin with no purpose, made from scraps and easily forgotten. Why would someone like the Boogeyman want me?

The sound of the floorboards squeaking confirms my suspicion; he's leaving. Glancing up, I force myself to watch him go, but instead, I'm caught by surprise–he's standing in my room, shirtless and wearing only a pair of dark pants. He's glowing, color shining from his face, down his strong neck, all along his muscular and well-built frame, leading down to his hips and disappearing into his pants. He runs his fluorescent fingers through his hair while giving me a far too confident smirk. "Come on, Blue. Don't leave me hanging here. We both need to be undressed for this next game."

Next game? What game? My brain is not here anymore; she's completely shut off. All I can manage to do is stare at his beautifully glowing body while the urge to squeeze my thighs together becomes almost too much. He is too much. I'm way too inexperienced to be here with him like this, and yet... I won't ask him to stop. I won't look away, not even for a second for fear this might all end. He might wise up and leave, taking his colors and these heavy feelings with him.

Letting out a puff of air, he shakes his head. "Guess I'll have to help you with that," he whispers while approaching the bed. Firefly wastes no time, pushing me onto my back, my legs hanging over the edge of the bed as he leans over my body, his weight barely on me. I instinctively cover my chest, gripping the gathered material of my dress. His hand glides up my stomach, up my arm before trailing to my neck. I slightly lift my head, allowing him to grip the side of my neck softly as he runs his thumb roughly across my lower lip, dragging it as he pulls the soft tissue, forcing my mouth open. His other hand grips the fabric around my chest, tugging it as I remain motionless, allowing him to undress me.

My body burns with excitement as it comes alive for what feels like the first time. I revel in each second of his touch as he skates over my skin. "W-what game did you want to play?" I ask, whispering the words at him, his thumb still on my face.

Firefly grins, his hair falling in front of his colorful face, his woodsy scent choking the air as the smell of him fills my lungs. "I'm going to do something, and you're going to tell me if you do or don't like it. Okay?" He leans close to my face, his hot breath against my ear as he speaks. "Don't worry, I won't make you do anything you don't want to. If you don't like something, just tell me to stop. Though, I have a feeling you're going to enjoy the things I'm about to do." Something slithers along the shape of my ear, forked and warm. "Let's see just how innocent you really are." The statement resembles a low growl, igniting something deep within me.

Firefly retreats from my face, releasing my neck as he stands between my legs, watching me. "I'll go easy on you." He winks as he runs his hands along the tops of my legs, squeezing with restraint. He moves from my knee and down toward my hip, gripping my thighs tightly. "How does that feel?" he asks, watching me for any kind of visual response.

I swallow, my throat burning from breathing so hard. "It's okay." Okay? It feels fucking amazing.

"Oh?" He raises a brow. "Just okay? I'll try not to take offense. How about this?" he asks, wrapping his hands around my thighs, dipping toward my center, lightly spreading them further apart while his fingers brush over the skin around my throbbing pussy. I can feel my body fighting the building urges as he continues to run his hand along my thighs, taunting me.

"I-I'm okay," I hesitate, struggling to control myself. This reminds me of my dream, adding to the unbearable feeling I have between my legs. My nipples harden, pushing against the material of my dress I'm still clutching.

"Stubborn little doll." Firefly removes his hands, placing them on either side of my body as he leans in, the heat of his breath dancing along the skin of my neck as he speaks into me. "You may think you're winning this." He opens his mouth, running his forked tongue along my neck as I shudder, gasping as a hot current rushes through me. "But I've got a trick or two up my sleeve." His tongue traces the underside of my chin, flicking my heated skin.

"Tricks aren't fair," I pant as he moves the thin material of my dress aside, exposing my right breast.

His low chuckle causes my center to tighten as he looks from my exposed breast to my eyes, his face, filled with cocky confidence as he speaks. "I'm the Boogeyman, and I don't play fair." Firefly's eyes burn into me as he runs his split tongue along my breast, fixating on my nipple. The feel of his hot mouth and saliva along my skin is a shocking sensation. Gasping loudly, I grip the bedding tightly, causing him to chuckle.

His tongue swirls around my hard nipple, "Ohhh," he breathes out. "You like that pretty doll?" He flicks my nipple roughly, and I cry out. I can feel my pussy dripping, aching, and throbbing with something I had never felt before—at least, not to this extent. I can't tell if what he's doing is causing me pain or making my body beg for more, but I don't want him to stop. I like this feeling, and I want more.

Firefly bites my nipple, causing me to scream out as my thighs tighten around his legs. "Careful," he warns through clenched teeth. "You make noises like that, and this ride might make a turn you're not ready for." Instinctively, I lean into him, pushing against his mouth. "Oh?" He sucks my nipple, releasing it with a smack as he licks his lips and grips my face, forcing me to look into his eyes. "You better watch yourself, Doll face. No matter how much you beg or how wet that greedy cunt of yours gets," he snakes his free hand under my dress, running it along my center as I inhale sharply, the grip of his hand along my face tightening in response, "I don't fuck with virgins."

I can't even process his words, as I'm too focused on not exploding from within. Something is building deep inside me, and I have no idea what it is, but I'm fighting it with all my strength. His finger remains on my center, drenched in my wetness, moving in a pleasing way. I can hear his breathing increasing as his finger moves faster and faster, his eyes watching me.

"Keep fighting it, Doll face, but you're no match for me." He smiles, gently pushing his finger deeper inside my body. My breathing hitches at the intrusion, my body jolting as I try to fight whatever this foreign feeling is that's consuming me. It's an overwhelming urge and desire, drowning my tightening body as I scream out. I clench around his finger, my inner walls pulsing and squeezing him, my body rubbing against the soft skin of his palm as the world explodes with... color —color I've only seen on him. My entire room has burst to life as I memorize every shade and hue before me, including those on his face as my heart nearly gives out from the euphoric feeling.

Not a moment later, my body is slowly beginning to relax, and I notice the color beginning to quickly fade away; the only brightness to the world remaining is my Firefly.

No, bring it back.

He slowly removes his fingers, my warm wetness dripping from his skin as he moves his hand to his face, breathing heavy. "Told you I'd win." He winks, running his snake-like tongue along his fingers, tasting my glowing fluid. The color of it resembles one of the many inked on his body. "Next time, I'll let you taste mine, if you're a good girl."

My head drops with exhaustion, sweat covering my skin like a glistening layer of dew. My body quivers with each breath as I try to catch my racing heart. The memory of his touch lingers on my skin, making me ache for more. I don't want him to leave; no, I crave for him to stay and make me feel this way again. I yearn for the colors and feelings that surged through me in those fleeting moments.

A creaking sound jolts me out of my daze and I quickly raise my head, scanning around the room. In the dim light, I realize that I'm all alone in my bedroom. A wave of sadness washes over me, overshadowing the euphoric sensations that still linger on my skin. Desperately, I search every corner of the room, hoping to find some trace of him, but he's gone.

Feeling lost and empty, I curl up under the covers, clutching my stuffed rat tightly against my chest. As I close my eyes, I replay every sensation of his touch in my mind, reliving the ecstasy until it slowly lulls me into a peaceful slumber.