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The Special One
Owned by JK Rowling though I kinda doubt she wants it. This fic is very dark. Flame me if you want, it doesn't make it go away.
***
Manda was still there sometimes.
There was a brief, flickering something...a flash of blonde hair, jasmine type scent. Was it jasmine? Yes...that was right, the flowers that used to grow outside her house. A warm laugh. A mother. Her mother. Swings. A long time ago.
The images wavered, shaky, unsure signals, fading with each gnawing sting she detected upon her inner thigh. Coarse, hot hands seized the flesh of her leg, and teeth...teeth. She cried out in a pain she was not entirely sure was hers, a pain she didnt own. Not anymore. She had disconnected from her skin and was left floating. Been floating a while.
Been floating a while now, came a singsong voice. Fingernails. Her body arched.
She was unable to remember how long it had been since she was stopped in a...what was it? It was a bus station. Stopped there by some man, taken aside...not a normal man. She recalled seeing a silver gleam from the bus she was supposed to get on...to go where? The place was smudged in her head now. God, what was that smudge? A smear of memory that had left a hole.
She had felt a sharp point on her side and the man whsipered to her, one word-
-imperio-
-her bus left without her. She went with him. She wanted to go with him.
The one who had been biting her thigh was inside her now, had pushed into her with such force that her head was hanging off the edge of the bed. Bump, bump, bump. The room moved with each motion. He made noises. She waited quietly. He wanted her quiet.
He finished with such intensity that she nearly fell off the bed completley. He jerked her back upon it by her arm, hard. She rolled over and curled. Closed her eyes. The smell of the sheets was a comfort. She had barely left those sheets the whole time she had been here, with these people. These were not normal people.
*Dirty Muggle cunny,* the man spat, and left.
That word again.
Sometimes there were two of them, or three, men and women alike...once there had been two women and three men. The warmth had been nice, actually, and there was no cutting or biting. Just heat, writhing, moans - a bad part had been when the three men had all taken her at once, or tried to, but that was nothing she wasn't used to, felt almost okay after a moment. At one pont of the the men left...the group was moving in a regular rythmn by then, nice, like a dance...he came back and poured something wonderful over them, warm and delicious. Everything exploded under the influence of this silky lubricant - after a moments vicious writhing everyone seemed to come at once.
She had fallen asleep suddenly, and when she awoke she was alone and tasted metal in her mouth. The bed was covered, soaked, in a light orange mixture of blood and urine.
Someone else came into the room now...there was a clink of metal. Who was this one? She couldnt open her eyes to see, didnt have permission. He must not have wanted her to see. She, or rather her body, did whatever the other desired. Metal clinks again. Probably the cutter.
Then there was the nice one. There was one nice one. He would come in and pet her, talk to her. Sometimes she talked back, but her words were meaningless, yet soothing, nonsense. Often he rested his head on her chest and cried, cried for hours. He kissed her neck and asked her what he could do for her once - she had said *Rub my back, would you?* though what she had wanted to say, what had bubbled up from the deepest, hottest part of her, was oh god please please please get me out of here I want to go home I want to go home oh God please-
She had rolled over on her back and he massaged it, tenderly, really, which was quite nice. He entered her from behind, soft and gentle as anything, pressing his lips to the nape of her neck, stroking the backs of her outstretched arms.
*Id love you,* he said when he finished, *if you werent a Muggle. You re beautiful.*
*Please break this curse,* she had heard herself say. Curse? *Free me.*
The cutter started. He hovered above her, she could feel him hard against her hip. Cold blade arm slice. Pain. Her throat emitted a moan of pleasure She couldnt open her eyes.
In her minds eye she saw the nice one. He had light eyes that looked into hers for a long time as he stroked her face. All she could recall now were his eyes.
*You know I cant do that,* he said softly.
Cold blade side slice. She moaned again. The cutter pressed harder against her hip, panting now.
*Please free me,* she had whispered to the nice one. *Ill want you forever like I want you now. You re the special one.*
He lowered his lips to her ear. *Say that again,* he whispered.
Cold blade slice slice. A long, choking groan of ecstacy. Hers. The cutter thrust against her faster now, grunting.
*You are the special one,* she had whispered back.
*Say it again. Say it with my name.*
Slice slice slice slice slice slice slice STAB. Oh god pain. Ograsmic shriek.
Big blue eyes. *You are the special one, Peter.*
STAB.
Blood running out of her mouth now. Gurgled groan. He was pumping her.
STAB.
Beyond pain now.
STAB STAB.
-silver bus-
STAB
-imperio-
STAB
jasmine