#alas i will use the ugly bow that's a) too big for me but b) was in my dad's garage and therefore free | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

horrorslashergirl · 4 years

Text

Chromeskull x Cop!Reader x The Collector

A dark themed erotic novel for the twisted minds

Resume: Escaping is never an easy achievement, especially when your captor is a master at traps and doesn’t like disobedience. You tried once. Never made it. Will you try again? Because looks like the spot for his Favorite is open.

_____________

Chapter 1: Nightshift Turn Out

Chapter 2: Twisted Tongue (You are here)

Chapter 3: Rising from fire like the Phoenix

Chapter 4: Video Shadows

Chapter 5: New beginning and Past memories

Chapter 6: Lovers Reunion

Chapter 7: Sweet Blackmail

Chapter 8: False Freedom

Chapter 9: Ugly Jealousy

Chapter 10: Sinful Ecstasy

You heard stories of how people ended being victims to a demented person; torture, humiliation, and the rapes; all where pulled from nightmares of people who managed to escape from such sick person and now you could only pray to God that you would get out alive and with a little hope without being scarred mentally for life by this type of actions.

The place was small and dark when you woke up and there was a deadly silence that made you wonder what was outside this trunk you were in. When you woke up you felt an immense headache shot through your skull and the taste of blood in your mouth. You need to get out so you did what first came to mind, kicking the side of the trunk where you could guess it was supposed to open; one kick, two kicks and it went on like this, until the lock gave up, making you stumble outside on cold and dirty tiles, the small light above you illuminating the room.

The room looked like one of a horror movie; it was like a science lab or surgery room from the tools on a metal table, but what caught your attention was the man strapped to one of the surgery tables or what else it was left of him. It was a middle-aged man, his legs were cut off from his knees and had two more pair of arms attached to his torso, the torso that was ripped open very carefully for so his internal muscles and organs could be seen, but what made you almost throw up was the fact that he was still alive. His heart was still beating, faintly, but still alive. He was unconscious and his lips were sewn shut. Many more tubes and perfusion were attached to him, keeping the poor soul alive.

At that moment you knew this wasn't your everyday kidnapper, this was so much more and you knew you had to think of something to get out or else God knows what that man was going to do with you. You were glad he wasn't here, but that didn't make you sleep on your ear; your eyes looking around for any form of escape. The big metal door was locked, you tried to open it, but no such luxury, then you saw a vent, not big enough for a bulky man to craw into it, but you sure could fit yourself, your smaller form coming into handy now.

Crawling into the vent you were hit by the putrid smell of decay and blood, you could taste the metallic scent on your tongue, but you pushed yourself to move on, your elbows scraping against the walls of the vent, then you saw another window to a vent, some lights showing. Pushing the grill off you crawled out and were met with what looked like a hotel room suite, old from many ages, the furniture victorian style. There was a vanity with make-up products, an old red satin arm-chair, and a king-sized bed, the frame was old, but the bedsheets were brand new.

Then your eyes meet a red trunk, one just like you were trapped in and you gulped down, goosebumps crawling over your arms as you approached it. The floors creaked a little as you took a step and someone banged from the inside of the box.

Someone indeed was inside and your good civilian self couldn't let whoever was inside there, knowing very well what would happen if you left. You unlocked the box and someone stumbled out; a girl, probably no older than you with brown hair pulled into pigtails by pink bows.

She got on her feet and looked at you with wide eyes, the smudged make-up giving her a sad appearance, the pink dress she was wearing a little dirty and her bare feet were all bruised and bloody, along with her knees.

"W-Who are you?" she asked in a whimper.

"I'm [Name]. Who are you?" you asked, giving her a once over to make sure she wasn't deadly injured.

"I'm Samantha. H-He let you out? H-How?" she asked, biting her vibrant pink lips.

"I got out myself. Who is he?" you asked, seeing that your utility belt was taken from you. Of course, whoever he was wasn't dumb.

"He's the master, the one that owns this place. The Collector." she muttered, her eyes widening as she looked herself in the mirror.

"What did he do to you? Did he...?" you asked, afraid of the answer, but alas you had to know what to expect from this psychopath.

"N-No...Not really, b-but humiliation was e-enough." she answered, tears starting to form in her brown eyes that were bloodshot.

"What do you mean?" you asked, the bruises on her knees pretty much giving you some hints.

"I-I'm alive, b-because I'm h-his favorite...H-He made me...." Samantha said, but she was shaking her head like she tried to get that mental picture out of her head.

Flashback...

Samantha couldn't bring herself to get down on her knees, especially after he did to them; piercing her patellar tendon from her knees hurt like hell, but he stitched her up back, her knees now bandaged, but the pain was present.

"No?"

Her eyes widened as his gloved hand was grasping a chain that was attached to an electric collar, said electric collar firmly strapped around the neck of what used to be a male, now more animal than human. He was in a straightjacket and white dirty hospital pants, barefoot, but his face? His mouth was slit open, his tongue licking over his bloody lips as saliva and drool were running down his stubbled chin.

His eyes were bloodshot, pupils all dilated from heavy drugs. This man was looking at her like she was a piece of cake and he was shaking as he saw her fear-filled face.

"N-No! I-I will...P-Please don't." Samantha said, getting on her knees, a whimper leaving her pink caked lips as the pain in her tendons increased, brown eyes locked onto obsidian eyes, The Collector smiled down at Samantha, his favorite, so far.

He attached the chain to a hook, making sure the animal of a man wasn't going to pull a stunt, not like he would, as he pierced him with a needle, the tranquilizing making the male pet fall down into a deep slumber.

The Collector turned back to Samantha with a smile that will give you nightmares for all of your life; he approached her slowly, standing in front of her crouched down form and the real fear began as he unbuckled his belt.

"No teeth."

You looked at her as she cried and all you could do was rub up and down her back, assuring her that you two will get out alive, but she was shaking her head.

"This p-place is full of traps. Deadly, a-and guard dogs. I-Its dangerous." she explained, but you encouraged her, pulling her gently by her wrists, making her follow you. It was probably lucked that the door was unlocked, you two made it out of the room and into hallways.

"You're a cop?" she asked in a quiet voice, wiping some tears of her eyes, smudging the makeup more. You nodded, looking carefully for traps, not wanting to end up dead like a trapped rat.

"Y-You're really pretty, you know?" she said, making you turn around to look at her with a confused face, a nervous smile on her face.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you asked, taking a step back from her.

"I'm gonna end up dead...I know it, but you?....He will destroy you from the inside." she said, taking a step towards you, then she lunged towards you, like a feral cat, but you weren't one to catfight. You took her wrists and threw her over your shoulder, her body hitting the ground then she stumbled back, her feet caught on a wire, then all you saw was blood, some of it hitting you in the face.

Five sharp poles pierced her body, from the wall; one pierced her thigh, second pierced her groin, third and four pierced her breasts and the last one went straight behind her head and came out of her mouth.

Your mouth was hanging open in shock, your body trembling, then you heard it, footsteps and the man in black with the mask at the end of the hall, his eyes taking in what you assumed was his favorite, all dead and bloody. His lips pulled into a snarl and he approached you in large, fast steps.

Without thinking any further you run down the hallway, trying to escape him, turning corner after corner, until you stumbled in what one would assume was the looby of this rundown hotel; your eyes seeing big glasses with corpses? All of them shaped like what you could guess were insects. You felt sick like you were ready to puke your guts out, but you swallowed the lump formed into your throat.

The man entered, a few feet away from you, the exit so close behind you, if you took off in a sprint you would make it, but your legs felt like they were glued on the floor, your eyes wide open, looking into black ones, so empty of emotions.

"You're a sick man." you said, brows pulled into a frown as you took a step back, seeing the knife grasped firmly into his black-gloved hand. He just gave you a lopsided smile, like you just complimented him, then he stalked your way, making you run towards the door, pulling on the door handle, only to be locked. It was just the double doors that separated you from freedom, then the blade pierced the door, an inch away from your head and you felt it, hot breath hitting the nape of your neck and his form behind you, brushing against your back, but you didn't turn around, you couldn't meet these eyes and act all brave, because you were powerless.

"D-Don't kill me." you muttered, they were the only words you could utter out.

You jumped up a little as you felt a hand move over your hip, just brushing against you, the contact felt too intimate for your liking. As soon as the gentleness came, so it went flying out the window when the other hand grasped your ponytail, tugging your head back, making you cry out, your hands never leaving the door handle.

He buried his masked face into your hair, right behind your ear, taking a deep breath. You knew what he most likely did to Samantha and you weren't ready for this. To be stabbed, cut? Yes, you could handle it a little, but this? This is what a lover would do to someone, but who was behind you, surely wasn't your boyfriend or a guy you would crush on like in high school. This was a monster because man couldn't do him any justice.

"N-No..." you whimpered as he gave your hair another tug, a carnal growl coming from him, then he hit your forehead against the door, hard, very hard that you blacked out, falling on the floor at his feet.

Who knew that a sunny day of Iunie would be the end of normality for someone? That was what you were thinking as the ambulance pulled over to the motorbike tournament, paramedics coming out, running towards your brother, all bloody and unconscious, his legs twisted abnormally.

"Nooo!" you screamed, falling down on your knees, your eyes taking in the scenario from what you only assumed till then was just nightmares, but this was reality.

A loud gasp left your lips as your eyes opened, temporarily blinded by the neons above you, your body covered into a sweat from the nightmare that shook your body moments ago.

You tried to move your arms, but couldn't, seeing that your upper body-part was strapped into a white straight jacket, your legs chained on each corner of the metal table you were on. This was bad....very bad. You heard moving from your left and turned your head, only to see broad shoulders and a muscular back, working on a dead body, or at last, was that person dead? The scream from that person answered your question and you cringed, a headache forming into your brain. A groan left your lips and you saw the man in black stop his movement, turning his head towards you, his eyes meeting yours.

"What a-are you going to do to us?" you asked, referring to not only you but the other unfortunate souls that have found their ways into his claws.

He didn't say anything, only returned to the victim, a scalpel in his gloved hand, and the trashing of the said victim became more intense until his body trembled and your kidnapper moved away to see what he just did.

You had seen such things in only horror movies; this psychopath just cut that person's tongue off and had the pink and red muscle in one hand. From the way this man looked at you, you probably had the most horrified expression ever, because he was such slightly smiling like this was just an everyday routine, which probably was.

You squeaked, from what Samantha told you, he was nicknamed as The Collector. Well, The Collector approached you, coming to your head and he dangled the tongue in front of your face, making you grimace. It didn't get any better when he brushed that tongue over your lips and you closed your eyes tightly, feeling your stomach turn and your insides to flip, then he pulled it away, putting the tongue into a jar filled with a substance.

"Y-You're so gross!" you spit out, glaring at The Collector, who stopped and turned towards you, like the fact that you just spit insults at him was a death penalty in his world, which was.

He walked back towards you and before you knew it, he grasped your tongue between his fingers, making fear fill your eyeballs, knowing damn well what happened to the still breathing body on the next metal table close to you.

"Should I cut it off?" it was the first time you heard him speak.

His voice was deep and calm, the type of calmness that gave you badly, bad feelings. His fingers rubbed your tongue, making you tremble and your skin to feel like it would crawl itself from your body, leaving you just a pack of muscles, organs, and bones.

His eyes were inspecting you, taking in all your reactions, not to mention how uncomfortable it was for someone to hold your tongue, making drool accumulate on your mouth, and run down the corners of your mouth.

He let go of your tongue and you quickly closed your mouth, your eyes taking in his drool covered nitrile gloved fingers and your expression was probably pure gold for him when he pulled said fingers, into his mouth, his jet eyes never breaking eye contact.

You had probably the most dumbfounded expression ever, but you were pulled out of your shock when he patted your cheek in a mocking manner, then he left the room, leaving you alone with the other one strapped on the table.

This was going to be bad....

Asa was back at his house, his two German Shepards following after their master, as he put his denim jacket on a hook in the principal hallway of his two-story house.

Tomorrow he had to go to university because his two weeks vacation was done; the time when he took most of it at the hotel where his collection was. He needed to take a shower, the smell of disinfectant and blood still lingering in his sandy brown hair.

He pulled his black turtleneck off, looking into the mirror, his eyes tired looking, then they moved onto his lips. He sighed and undressed fully, turning the water on and getting inside, letting the warm water hit his skin, muscles tight, and sore from overworking.

He still could taste you; the metallic familiar taste of blood, but that faintness of strawberry.

Asa groaned, feeling his length between his legs starting to harden, his hands forming into fists.

He had time, there was no need to rush things.

Your tongue is mine, little girl...

To be continued...

#Laid to rest 2009 #Chromeskull: Laid to rest 2 #Jesse Cromeans #jesse cromeans x reader x asa emory #Chromeskull #Chromeskull x reader #The Collector 2009 #The Collection 2012 #the collector x reader #Asa Emory #Asa Emory x reader #Jesse Cromeans x reader #the collector x reader x chromeskull #slasher x reader

133 notes · View notes