Chapter 19

Making my way through the throng of people that are gathered on the sidewalk, I blend into the night air as I cross the street and head to the two wrought iron gates of the cemetery. I'm tempted to allow technology to help me like it did when I first needed a way into my little hellcat's twisted existence, but given how I plan for tonight to end, I think a more primal take on things would be more appropriate.

Looking over my shoulder, I wait until the sidewalk clears before hoisting myself up and over the locked gate. My feet barely hit the ground of the cemetery before I spot Blair's harness on the barren ground.

Kneeling, I reach for it, immediately gravitating to the vibrator hidden in its center. A sly grin creeps across my face when my finger is met with the very wet toy. I must have disengaged the harness from my ring when my fist was clenched and smashing that damn pumpkin just moments before. Judging from the amount of arousal that coats the harness and my hand, I'd say she came right before it detached from her body. Sudden jealousy pings at my core as my fingers trace the intricate grooves of fabric. Gathering the remnants of her release onto my finger, my cock twitches to life as I slip my finger beneath my mask, sucking her sweet tang off it.

Fuck even her leftovers taste like every depraved thing I could ever want and it only fuels the predatory surge working through me as I straighten my spine. Relying on the light from the full moon, I begin searching for my final girl.

Moving past the rows of limestone and slate graves, I try to keep my steps as hushed as possible. That way if any sound breaks from the vast landscape that surrounds me, I'll know where to head to find her.

"Oh, little hellcat…where are you?" I call out, trekking through the rows of graves and hilly land that makes this place an endless wonderland of death and despair. Each step I take fuels my adrenaline, making me feel like a true hunter. With the scent of my prey lingering in my nose and the great outdoors as my playground, the possibilities are fucking endless as to what I will do to her once I capture her.

I approach a fork in the pathway that divides the old section of the cemetery with the new, causing me to pause my search when a twig snapping in the distance catches my attention.

Remaining still, I wait for the sound again and sure enough it continues to happen, and with each distinct break of the fallen bark, the noise is getting closer to where I'm standing.

I'm getting warmer.

Heart pounding at my chest, I try to focus my gaze on the ripples of black air that consume my already limited vision beneath my mask.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," I mumble, continuing to listen for her footsteps when I spot a sliver of plump ass jiggling as it runs up the hill near the row of mausoleums.

My pulse skyrockets, yet the ripe need that courses through me is what fuels my steps to lock down my prey once and for all. I regain my footing, the chains that drape over my thighs rattling with each fervent bounce of my stride. Feral excitement floods my veins when my vision is met with the point of her heel as she turns the corner of the cement structure she's trying to run past.

Oh, no you don't.

Increasing my speed, I approach the mausoleum she's hiding behind. "I know you're here, little hellcat," I announce, beginning to round the far corner of the mausoleum. "You're really making me work for it tonight, huh? Fine by me, I like fighting for what's mine." Leading with my knife, I move to the backside of the mausoleum. Notes of her floral perfume invade my senses. "I can practically smell you from here," I purr against my mask just as the scraping of gravel sounds from behind me.

"Over here, asshole," she shouts.

I pivot towards the sound of her heaving breaths.

"There you are–" I move toward her but the impact of something hard smacking against my forehead stops me in my tracks. I look down to see one of her heels lying on the ground in front of me.

"What?" she pouts. "No heels means that I can run away from you faster. Hope you can keep up," she challenges.

A boisterous growl leaks from my lips at the audacity of her thinking that her bare feet are capable of giving her the speed she needs to get away from me.

Reaching for my special knife, I secure it in my palm before lifting my masked gaze to where she stands looking delicious and arrogant.

"Run final girl, the Boogeyman's coming for you," I groan. "Now!"

Finally, like a good little slut, she listens to me and breaks into a quickened jog. Not quite a run but much faster than walking. How pathetic, it's like she wants to get caught. She's making this too easy for me and ease is something that's never appealed to me. Which is probably why I felt such a pull to her all those years ago. Blair is many things, but easy, in any sense of the word, is definitely not it. She's hostile, erratic, violent, all the things that make her a nightmare and my fucking dream.

I continue my determined saunter, trailing her every step. Her onyx hair swaying at her back side the further she runs, she continues this until we've made it to what most would classify as "the rich" part of the cemetery. The side where all the big wigs and famous people paid a hefty price to be buried under the ground.

Her pace slows as she turns to look at me. Though our locked gaze on one another is cut short by her suddenly crashing to the ground.

Ah, I love historic cemeteries. Those disintegrating graves that wither down over the years to eventually look like rocks on the ground, make for a real safety hazard.

Better luck next time, little hellcat.

Using her fall to my advantage, I charge towards her. Running with such speed that she has no opportunity to escape.

My body topples over her, pinning her to the ground and fuck, does this feeling of overpowering her feel like home.

"You motherfucker," she shouts, trying to squirm out of my hold. Her arms extend, scratching at the ground, forcing me to press my knife against her hand.

"Ouch," she cries out, though the pain she's trying to forceisn't convincing.

I pout, my lips pressing against my mask. "Oops," I tease, drawing the blade into the top of her hand an inch more. "Miss me?" I tease, straddling her backside.

She scoffs. "You'd have to be dead for me to miss you. But if you insist on pinning me down like this, the least you could do is be a gentleman about it and stick something in me."

"I'll do you one better," I say, loosening my hold on her backside, I take my free hand, rolling her over onto her back, trapping both her wrists overhead. "I'll give you one shot, one opportunity to do what you've always wanted–" I'm cut off by her sudden burst of laughter

"Something amusing you?" I ask,

Her laughter comes to a halt and a breathy sigh emerges in its place before she parts her lips to speak. "Holy shit, sorry, I thought you were about to rap "Lose Yourself" from 8 Mile the way you started that sentence."

I roll my eyes. This woman is truly maddening and of course, like the fucking brat she is, she begins bobbing her head and humming to fucking Eminem, completely ruining the fucking mood. My neck snaps side to side, cracking, before I bring the tip of my knife to her chin, lowering my mask to her face. "Thanks for the pop culture references but I'm more of a rock guy, myself. Now shut that pretty little mouth of yours and listen to me. I'm giving you one chance to do what you failed to do fifteen years ago."

Her brows lift, excitement washing over her face as my offer registers.

"Ooh, you're going to let me stab you?" she asks, practically beaming.

I chuckle, loosening the cuffed hold I have maintained on her wrists. "I'm giving you one last chance to kill me, but first, there's something I want you to do for me," I say, uncurling my hand completely from her wrists as I stand up.

Wasting no time, she quickly rises to her feet, already reaching for her knife.

I click my tongue. "Not so fast, final girl."

Her shoulders shrug matching her confused stare. "What is it, Maddox? What can I do for you before I drive that knife into your black fucking heart?"

Closing the space between us, I take my knife and tap it against hers. "Drop it."

"What?" she asks.

"Drop your knife and use mine," I deadpan.

She stands there, silently trying to piece together what exactly I'm saying before shrugging and tossing her knife to the ground.

Good girl.

"Okay, weird. Hand it over," she motions to my knife. I pull back from her slightly, clicking my tongue before centering the tip of my knife over her lips.

"Lick it," I instruct.

Her eyes roll viciously, "Oh my god, you're such a man. You want a blow job before I kill you?"

"Eh, kind of," I reply.

"Whatever. It's the least I could do, I guess," she says, her tone suddenly sultry. If I didn't know any better, I'd say it almost sounds like she wants my dick shoved down her throat as her hand now grazes my belt buckle.

"Not that," I murmur. "I want you to lick this."

"I'm not following. You want me to lick your knife before I stab you?"

"Humor me. It would be a poetic justice of sorts." I grin, bringing the knife closer to her mouth, I carefully take the edge to her bottom lip. "So, what do you say, huh? Just the tip. Don't want to get too bloody," I wink.

"Fine," she agrees, parting her lips so I can guide the knife's edge into her mouth.

"Go ahead, stick your tongue out for daddy. Open nice and big."

Her mouth opens wide as her tongue thrusts outward. Slowly, I bring the edge of the blade to her tongue, watching with a stiff cock as she explores the sharpened steel.

"That's it," I encourage her, dragging the tip deeper into her mouth. "You're taking daddy's knife so well."

Her lids fall shut as she glides her ravenous tongue up and down the blade. My cock begins to ache, watching how ravishing she looks obeying me.

That's it baby, lick all the medicine up.

"Good girl," I praise. "Almost there."

My gaze shifts from where she is stroking the knife with her tongue and to her half-lidded eyes. Her tongue pauses and a scowl flickers across her brow.

"Ok, ha-hand it, ov–" she stutters, unable to complete her sentence.

"Ssh, little hellcat. Don't fight it," I whisper. "You're doing so good. See how easy things are when you follow my instructions. Now you'll get to sleep faster, and I'll get to have my sleeping beauty's cunt all to myself…in silence."

I can tell by the subtle gasp she makes she wants to say something, to fight me, but she can't. I made sure of it by lacing the blade she's been fucking with her mouth with enough sleep aid that she will knock out quickly.

Her weakening body begins to sway and, being the gentleman that I am, I remove the blade from her mouth, so she doesn't accidentally stab herself in the throat when she falls.

Waiting for the sleep medicine to fully kick in, I bring a quick hand to the button of my mask so my mouth will be free and ready to lick her blissfully unconscious body to orgasm as she naps.

"Ssh," I whisper in her ear and, even in her semi-conscious state, my heart pings at the sight of the goosebumps that begin to spread on her neck. "Don't fight it. I'll make sure to take good care of you while you sleep."

A stifled whimper travels from her throat when her body collapses into my hold. "Nighty night, hellcat," I whisper, draping her sleepy body across the ground. Hunger pains at my insides, my cock is so hard it feels like it"s going to shatter my piercings. Before I get to work on her pussy, I can't help but stare at her unconscious state.

It's amazing how so much beauty and angst can reside in one body. She looks so serene laying amongst the barren landscape of the cemetery. Breathing but unaware. Alive, yet internally dead. Just how I like her.

Kneeling before my sleeping beauty, I begin to salivate, parting her willing thighs. I tear at the fabric of her bodysuit, casting it aside so I have more room to bury my face at the apex of her thighs.

There is something so sinfully delicious about the way her pussy glistens for me, surrounded by death, unknowingly so close to her own. I only wish that her hatred for me would stop overshadowing her ability to realize that everything I'm doing, as fucked up as it may be, is only out of my willingness to make her happy.