Chapter 27

One. The deep baritone of his voice echoes to my core. The look in his eyes, cold and capable of destruction, makes me want to defy his command to run. Wanting instead for the fist that's clenched at his side to wrap its way around my airway so I can feel his heated touch melt my skin.

Two. He raises his foot, decreasing the space between us by one, long step, followed by another slow but intentional sauntering step my way.

Three. An electrical current ripples through my body as each number sounds angrier than the last. I know if I don't move my legs at this very second, I will succumb to the deep baritone of his voice that feels like it"s slicing my spine in half.

My chest heaves watching his serpent style tongue swipe at his lip as his mouth parts to continue counting, this time a sinister and amused expression takes hold of his chiseled face.

Four. Be daddy's good little whore.

His words are now melodic as they are taunting. Heart rate accelerating to a dizzying speed, I inch back, breakingthe frozen, still state my body has been trapped in.

Five. There's nowhere to hide.

The sinister grin on his face widens. His neck tilts to the side at an eerie ninety-degree angle as he takes another step forward and I scoot several steps back.

Six.

Seven.

The evil sing song now dissipated; a sinister chuckle erupts as the speed of his counting revs up. He's growing impatient. I can tell by the way the veins that entrap his inked forearms look like ropes, pulsing and thick.

Now, that he is good and angry, locked into hunter mode, ravenous for his prey is when I decide it's a good fucking time to run.

Eight.

My pulse swishes at my ears as I start to run in what feels like circles. The adrenaline both fueling my body while also making me feel like I'm trapped in quicksand. Scanning the area by the mantle, looking for a route to go that will ensure him having to work to find me.

Nine.

Finally, a long-darkened hallway that looks like it leads to a steep flight of stairs, beckons my attention. My feet feel as if they're taking flight, my body glides across the creaky floorboards, the faster I move. Dark, ominous air engulfs me as my eyes try to adjust to the ill lit space.

Ten.

He roars as I lift my foot onto the staircase. Immediately I alternate my quickened pace onto the next wooden step. As I move up the stairs, my pulse accelerates, making my blood sound like a muffled symphony in my ears. Fear toying with me, I try to maintain a fragment of reality so I can hear what number he's counting behind me. Though as I'm approaching the halfway point of the long, steep staircase, the only sound I hear is my own heart beating.

I make it up to the landing when I notice the counting has stopped. I flip around, peering down at the empty flight of stairs, but he's not there. Confusion hits me, but I take this as an opportunity to keep it moving and hide. Just as I'm about to walk, a blanket of even darker air wraps itself around me, taking my already limited vision with it as well as my equilibrium.

It's then, as I try to steady myself, I hear a piercing screech break through the muffled barrier at my ears. The scratchy sound is reminiscent of a stuck vinyl, except this isn't any song I've ever heard. It's not a song at all. It's a recording and, as a familiar throaty groan emerges from the speakers, my every sense is transported back in time.

"Are you touching yourself?"

"Yes."

"Fuck, you're a filthy fucking slut aren't you?"

"Mmm."

"Tell me, final girl. What's your favorite scene in Halloween?"

"Hmm, the one at the end of the first movie when Michael chases Lorrie to the bedroom."

"The one where he stabs at the closet?"

"Mmm yea, that's the one."

"Huh, interesting."

"You're not kink shaming me are you?"

"Baby, let's not forget how we began. I stalked you and, once you found out, you begged me to continue even once we got together. There's no shame in what makes you wet. I just want to learn how I can keep you satisfied."

"Follow me like Michael. Chase me. Scare me. Make me think my life is in your hands."

"And when I catch you?"

"Never let me go."

My own words from years prior bring every sense I have to life, making my heart and pussy throb in a twisted dance together. Never let me go.

The recording of our phone conversation fades, and in its place, the familiar synthesizer of the Halloween theme song fills the cabin. A thud sounds from the bottom of the staircase, and there he stands.

Beneath the Michael Myers mask he now wears, I hear him growl, like a hungry, deranged man before he takes to the stairs. I begin to backtrack, when a sliver of light from the window at the top of the steps reflects down to the knife clenched in his fist, signaling me to run.

From what I can see, there are only two rooms on the second level. I make my way to the furthest part of the hall, reaching for the doorknob, I quickly turn it and pile into the room, locking the door behind me.

With my back flat against the door, my heart races hearing the heavy thud of his booted footsteps in the hall. Though the accelerated beating of my heart comes to an abrupt halt when I see, across from where I stand, with my heart pounding, is a closet with theidentical white accordion doors from Halloween.

I scurry over to the closet, which is barren with the exception of two garments hanging in the corner, though with the light from the candles, the fabric looks like a shadow. With his steps nearing the outside of the room, I move to all fours. Crawling inside the closet, I take my hand to the edge of the door and slide it closed before hiding in the far corner.

I'm seated for not even a few seconds before I hear him kicking down the bedroom door. The broken wood scatters across the floor and, even with the music still playing, I can hear every piece break.

His shoes scuff against the floor as he slowly moves one step at a time around the room.

I wait with bated breath for him to approach the closet door. Through the slats of wood, I can see his silhouette. As I tilt my chin up, bracing myself for him to open the door, a gasp falls from my lips as the gleaming steel of his knife pierces the center of the door.

Fast, aggressive strikes of his knife wielding hand tear the wood barrier to shreds. The slats fall like dominoes, one by one, scattering around the floor of the closet. Like an animal, he rips away what's left of the door, eliminating the minimal barrier between us, a ravenous grunt sounding from under his mask.

I flatten my back against the wall, drawing my already bent knees deeper into my chest.

He remains silent, but his body is screaming just as loud as mine is as he takes his free hand to my ankle and, in one swift motion, he drags me out of the closet. Playing along I let out a scream, but it only seems to make him more aggressive. His touch searsitself to my ankle as he finishes pulling me closer to him.

Knife still in one hand, he spreads my thighs apart, forcing me to fall back on the floor. The cool steel begins to gently prick at my skin, not deep enough to cut me but enough that I can feel him gliding it across the seam of my bodysuit, removing it like he does the flesh on a freshly severed head.

A needy groan rumbles from his throat as he teases my inner thigh with the tip of the knife, slowly, carefully tracing my skin. He continues this until the tip of the blade is centered with the apex of my thighs.

I trap my bottom lip beneath my teeth, waiting for his next move.

Settling into the floor, I tilt my chin upward, watching as he raises his hand above where I lay, deadly steel hanging over my body like a storm about to rain on me. He keeps it there for a moment, teasing me until it descends near my center. He pierces the floorboard with a violent and forceful thrust of his hand and all that can be seen from the floor is the handle.

Tossing his mask to the floor, his hands scoop my ass, and once more I'm being dragged towards him, closer to where his mouth waits for me. A lustful shriek falls from my mouth as the separated muscles of his long tongue press into my center, fucking me with wet, messy kisses.

His mouth acts like a vibrator as he hums against me. My back arches, writhing against his face as he continues to consume me. With every swipe of his torn tongue that devours me, he continues to moan against my pussy, sending a surge of fire through my body. Working through the addictive feeling of being captured by his tongue, my head falls to the side, bringing the knife on the ground into view. Extending my arm, I flatten my palm trying to reach for the handle, but I can't get it.

Painfully, I break the seal he has on my center, scooting away from his glistening mouth. "Take your pants off," I pant.

Confused, he rises to his knees with his head cocked to the side. "You were so close. Haven't we edged each other enough today?" he says practically begging.

Ignoring him, I sit up, reaching for the knife. "Just take off your pants," I repeat.

I don't wait for him to undo his zipper, with the knife in my hand, I pinch it in my grip and begin to shimmy his pants down for him until they fall to his ankles.

"You want daddy's dick don't you?" he groans.

I shake my head, tilting my chin up so that all I see past his erect, barbell lined cock in my face is him peering down at me. Just the sight of his tall, inked stature hovering over me fills me with sick pride. I love being his filthy little whore. The power he has over me, just like I have over him, is like a fucking drug with a high so strong, it's unmatched.

Fisting the base of his shaft, a drop of precum drips from the tip of his hardened length. Not willing to waste a fucking drop of him, I swirl my tongue around his opening, coating it in his salty taste.

"That's my good little slut," he groans. "Now open wide," he instructs.

My lips part as he drives his pierced cock to the back of my throat, making my eyes water.

"Fuck yourself with it," he moans. "I want to hear how wet you get with my cock filling your mouth while that handle fills your needy cunt."

Spreading my legs wider, I bring the handle to my wet pussy, driving it into my center as I work my mouth up and down his cock.

"That's my morbid whore," he groans as his hands shift to the top of my head as he controls the pace at which he fucks my mouth.

I continue slow, forceful drives of the knife in and out of my pussy while he thrusts his shaft in my mouth until I feel his cock stiffen more. I can tell he is close. He squeezes my head tighter, driving his impressive length deeper into my throat, making me gag but I work through it, because I like when he comes in my mouth.

"Fuck, baby, I'm going to come," he announces through a throaty groan.

I nod my head, humming around his cock, ready for my prize. Just as I feel the beginning of his orgasm pulsing, he pushes me off him. The knife falls from my grip and skids across the floor. I don't have enough time to process what is happening when I feel my body being lifted and place onto the floor.

Landing on all fours, I feel the head of his dick rub against my wet slit, teasing it before he rams into me. Forceful, intoxicating thrustsmake my already limited vision from the darkened air around us, become grainy, making me feel like I'm being swallowed into a sea of darkness.

The fullness of his dick, paired with the steel that adorns it, is exactly how would imagine fucking the devil would feel. Hot and wrong, possessive and addicting. I will never, ever tire of being railed by him.

My ass claps against his thrusts. I feel my pussy begin to suffocate him. "That's right little hellcat. Cranes come together. Isn't that right, wife?"

Cranes. Fuck, I don't know why I resisted wanting to take his last name for so long. But the sound of him calling me a Crane and more importantly being his wife, makes me feel like I'm about to lose control. My orgasm ripples through me, causing me to shriek in pleasure as I feel his warm cum mixing with mine.

He stays in me for a few seconds more, allowing every drop of his release to fill me before he pulls out. Still on all fours, I move to face him when his large forceful palm sears itself into my skin, pressing my upper body onto the floor.

"Where do you think you're going, final girl?" Maddox's ominous tone washes over me, spreading a wave of hypersensitivity to my every nerve. Anticipation burrows itself within me until a low groan vibrates from his chest, spreading its sultry intent to his throat. "Now arch that pretty little back of yours and keep that ass up high. I'm not done with you yet."