How many days had he lain like this while I was oblivious?
Days and days, maybe.
“I decided to take the drug Wolfe gave me.”
Oh. That? I glanced at the pills. Was he being truthful? Once, just once, I had tried to sneak that into his drink. The punishment had been harsh and evil, as his punishments tended to be. It was the reason he had drowned the girls and made me wade out to touch them.
So evil. I shuddered.
“Really?” I gulped down my misgivings. Was this good or bad?
“I have been titrating the dose, figuring out what to take and when.” He hadn’t bothered to shift or sit up. Could he even move?
At that thought, he sat up – pushing and pulling himself upright by using his hands on the sofa’s edge and back. He swiveled into a position facing me then smiled. It was such a full-on I see you smile with the lines of his mouth a precision engraving. He might have been a sculpture.
I flinched.
Had I turned into a pussy?
Probably. I should not blame myself. This man, this mesmer, had wrecked me, torn me apart. I could never be who I once was.
“What do you want?”
“You.” He smiled then un-smiled, so quickly this time I barely caught it. “I feel something is missing, inside me.”
“Fuck me.” I stared, gaping, then I actually snorted in amusement. “You’re not serious?” A stupid bravery kept me talking. “What you’re missing is a heart, a soul, or even a shred of fucking goodness or humanity. Hell would reject you.”
Isak slowly rubbed across his mouth with his fingers then beckoned me. “That was unwise. Come. Sit.”
He patted his knee.
I turned and ran.
I felt the tug of his command and his presence as I sprinted down the internal stairs, but as I burst out the front door, it was gone. It was as if some strand of connection between us had snapped.
CHAPTER 4
ISAK
How? How had she managed that?
Of course, the Keppra had made me a little less aware, less perky, even when it came to her, my talisman. My Red.
I flung myself off the couch and sprinted after her, spiraling down the stairs. I leaped off and skidded on a rug. As the steel-and-glass front door swung shut behind me, I was already haring in the direction she must have gone, judging by the crunch of leaves and sway of the undergrowth.
The beach was that way. Why that way? Where did she think she was going? Of course the Porsche was not her answer because the keys were in the bedroom. I’d have trapped her if she’d gone there.
Having her cornered, pinned down on the bed, I would’ve done bad things to her, which made me think of what to do when I caught her. She must be hoping the beach would be full of swimmers or sunbathers, which it might be, but that would not stop me.
She knew that too.
A novel feeling descended, an exhilaration. Her escape and her ability to try to evade me grabbed me by the balls, and I couldn’t manipulate her as I used to, or not at this distance. I hadn’t had this sort of thrill for years – an unwilling victim, struggling under me, wet because she wanted it even when she didn’t.
I had been taking the easy route with Red and had muted her. That did make it easier to use her. It was why I’d done it. My reaction, now, was confusing.
I pounded along the sandy track with my bare feet hurting when I trod on sticks, but her feet would also suffer. I doubted she could outrun me, since Red hadn’t exactly been gyming for years. Neither had I, however mesmers had advantages in the fitness and healing departments.
Once I was close enough… I would have her.
I kept running, and felt that familiar awareness of a susceptible, collectable female draw closer… nearer, until I gathered that tenuous thread of her to myself, and wound it in. I reeled in my catch, made her slow down, and she would not realize what I was doing.
Closer… I could see the sand fly from her running feet as I made a corner.
Closer… I could hear her panting, feel her exhaustion – the air tearing into her lungs, the blur in her vision as she lacked oxygen.
Lucky that I hadn’t been taking her jogging. As if.
Then, I could see her.
With every stride, her dress flipped onto the backs of her thighs or her ass, so that I glimpsed her panties. I drank in the perfect flow and bulge of her muscles, the pump of her arms, the scent of her. I could feel her apprehension, and I regretted not ordering her to go commando. Minus panties I could have watched her cunt get closer.
Those legs striding, thrusting, her little toes clenching at sand, those alone were enough to make me salivate. I would bite those – bite up the back of her legs, and at her toes – even with the sand on them, when I strung her up to a tree, swinging enough to make it hurt.
Not for killing – for I would never destroy my toy – just so I could fuck her and make her squeal.
No rope, asshole. I increased my pace. Damn. Improvise.
No one else was walking on this track. We’d passed zero tourists. Even if they were here, she could not have called for help.
Finally I commanded her to stop even as I shouted the word, “Stop!”
Red braked, bucking forward, her hand plunging into the sand as she stumbled and almost face planted.
I jogged to a halt, dragging in air, smiling for a second before I wrenched my mouth straight. Got my prey. Hell to the fuck, yeah. That pursuit had been some kind of wonderful.
Chasing her had put new blood in my veins.
“Got you,” I murmured while she pushed herself upright from her hands and knees position. “Dust off that sand. Off your legs.” I nodded and she obeyed, still gasping from the run, as was I.
Where to take her? I needed to punish her for this. Now, not later.
Punishment had previously been close to pointless. I could crush her will, effortlessly. This had a logic to it, a reason, and that made my dick harder.
It would be sunset soon. Couples might be wandering this way with guides and flashlights, hoping to see the ocean as the sun went down. Hoping not to get eaten by a stray croc.
I listened for gatecrashers on our tête-à-tête, half-watching the strained fear on her face while I scanned the surroundings.
Then I pointed off-track. “Walk ahead of me.”
After one last pained glance, she obeyed. Ten meters in, I had her stop.
“Panties off. Give them to me.”
Eyes shut, she bent over and stripped them from her ankles. They trailed in the sand as she gave them to me.
I shook off the sand. I could have left it there but was feeling less sadistic than my usual. “Mouth.”
She opened it, but I paused to look. I couldn’t resist the allure of what stood before me, a female I’d had and given to others in every possible combination. Yet this tainted and degraded woman drew me.
Why?
Because. Because sometimes the incomprehensible possesses us. I did not know why. This connection between Red and me simply existed. Nothing I could do would break it – nothing short of killing her.
For days I’d been feeling my way through the correct dosage of Keppra. After only a short time under its influence, I recognized this as a crux point. Wolfe was right.
The drug did work a miracle on mesmers.
And whatever dosage I had taken, at this very point in time, it had me where I wanted to be.
As pure mesmer, the world was dull and simple. Seen through the eyes of my monster, the nuances and excitement of living was crushed. I had taken Red and used her like a toilet roll to assuage desires, then thrown her away until I wanted her again.
A human man was more than lust. Should be more.
Yet the sadism called me. The blushing reds striping her ass. The minute trickles of blood. The straining of her mouth and her whimpers as I whipped her then made her come in almost the same second.
“Red,” I whispered.
The curves of her breasts wer
e criminally covered.
I dithered between stripping her here or doing it later.
“Arms before you. Wrists together.”
Having crammed my fist into her hair, I leaned in.
“You ran from me. Do you deserve punishment?” The thrill of this was making me so hard I was hurting, and I reached down to adjust my dick, giving it a squeeze before I caught both her wrists.
“Answer me.”
“Yes.” Such a quiet, squeaky reply.
“Why’d you run?” With my nose buried in her hair, I inhaled.
Before this, before the drug, she could not defy me.
She tried to shake my fist loose. Defiance? Defiance, I decided, was wonderful.
I smiled into her hair and bit her ear, listening to the abrupt hiss and shake in her breathing.
“Don’t do that. Answer. Unless you want to try fucking yourself on a tree branch.” Not that I would ask that of her, but it was an interesting threat.
And an even more interesting image.
I wouldn’t. But still.
“I thought, maybe, you were weaker.”
“From the drug?”
She nodded. “I saw it on the table.”
I twisted my hand in her hair, felt her wince, then released it and wormed the panties between her lips. I wedged them deep, pressing back the corners of her mouth. Then I spun her and knotted the cloth at the back of her head.
“Let’s get this dress off you, then maybe I can string you up with it before I fuck you.”
Slowly, I stepped away, never taking my eyes from her, from this shaking, fearful woman as I did so.
A vice crunched onto my chest and held on.
Is this it, I asked myself as she drew her dress over her head and offered it to me.
Naked, eyes wide, legs shaking. The crunch of leaves underfoot punctuated the looming night. Darkness was falling. Animals might be out foraging.
Is this what I want?
I was the cause of more fear in her than any wild animal.
Was this it? My life’s aim?
Crap.
Loudly, I sucked on the inside of my mouth.
Was keeping her shaking so enticing?
I knew it was the Keppra that altered my view, the same as it was the mesmer infection and not me that had created this version of me that stood in my skin and tugged at me even now.
Don’t. This way lies death.
Did it, though?
Crux point. Pivotal point. Go this way or go that way.
Is this what I wanted?
I didn’t like the fear I saw in Red. Or the amount of fear to be precise. I liked fear, just not this stark intensity.
I did not like the me that had made this happen.
Stopping myself, though, was entirely different.
I eyed her, naked, unwilling but also willing – she would do anything for me. I could smell her arousal and imagined a string of it, dripping between her thighs as I teased her.
I lusted after the idea of fucking her, strung up, hands bound high, toes spinning on the sand.
Lust was mesmer. Yes. Power over females was mesmer.
Why would any sane man not wish that power?
Thinking, I licked along the slit of my mouth. I moved in again and yanked the makeshift gag far enough backward to loosen the panties from her head and strip them off her.
One step backward… Two.
“I want you, Red, to do something else. I want you to help me become human, again.”
Her eyes stayed wide and uncomprehending.
CHAPTER 5
RED
Jesus. Was he serious?
Human, again – he had said that.
Which meant he thought he wasn’t human.
That alone was a surprise. I’d never made the leap to thinking he wasn’t human. He was just horribly distorted, damaged, and evil.
And I was being so very kind giving him that human label, seeing I was standing here, dress limp in my hand, trembling, panting for breath, and naked, after being chased down the track. This was my own private horror movie.
Which had lasted years, and yet… and yet he asked me this, while staring with those cold eyes. They were blue, in close-up, and he’d stared the same way while hurting me tens of, a hundred times.
How dare he ask me. How fucking dare he. A sob built in the back of my throat and nose. This had to be a trick. I still trembled, sometimes I twitched like a seizure victim.
Fear was a constant.
The sun was petering out. Standing near him with darkness fading in was scarier to me than encountering whatever diabolical Aussie wildlife might be waiting to pounce.
Could that drug do this? Could it make him think like a normal-ish man?
I did not know. He might be lying. I wished he wasn’t but wishes weren’t real.
Though, it was ridiculous to even think that he would lie. Isak had precisely zero need to lie to me when he could take from me anything.
Which begged the question – why was he asking?
Maybe I was wrong?
“Why are you asking me?”
“Because I need to.”
Shit. Need? I was lost, confused, and panicking mainly because he confused me.
“And if I say no?” I croaked.
Courage was coming to me today because, I guess, I simply had nowhere left to go. He would kill me eventually, by accident if not on purpose. This was a simple statistical certainty.
Death might be easier than what I had suffered.
“Say no.” He shrugged. “I will make you.”
“Oh.”
Fatigue engulfed me.
Somehow this had poured concrete into my veins. I collapsed slowly onto my knees, scrunching sand beneath my legs. My head was heavy, and I leaned forward, teetering, mouth slack. Under my palm, my gathered dress slid over my thigh.
An ant wandered over a twig. A large, pale-yellow flower blossomed on a vine that strayed onto the path. More of those flowers were dotted throughout the underbrush.
Flowers. Then I realized why this struck me as strange. I hadn’t really seen flowers or beauty or nature, not the details, not really seen them, for years. I wanted to cry for that vanished part of me.
I cleared my throat and dared to look at him. “Actually, you can’t make me do this.”
Was this what they called a Mexican stand-off? If so, it was a drained one. I’d gone from turned on, as usual when confronted by him, to resigned and exhausted.
“Don’t be so certain.”
We were having an actual discussion.
Talking was not Isak’s way.
I merely blinked and waited. Could he make me help him be more human? I didn’t know how to do it even when consciously aware.
Isak sighed.
His face changed and showed expressions I could not interpret because I knew nothing of his motivations, of what drove a mesmer. Being a blank, unreadable golem was more him.
The wash of the ocean rolling onto the shore was a constant background noise.
It made me think of one of those old movies where a man is frantically trying to tune a radio and getting endless static, because outside the world has collapsed and the monsters are approaching his door.
In my world, the monster had already broken in.
Despite this, hope came into being deep inside me. A gleaming morsel of it unwound like a seedling and reached for the light.
Maybe this was something worthwhile?
Was it possible he had changed?
He went to one knee and plucked the nearest yellow flower, twirled it. “Put your clothes back on. We’ll return.” He looked up. “To the house. Here. Have this as proof.”
Frowning, I took it. “Of?”
“Of me wanting more than I have before.” Then he stretched his arm and grabbed my nipple in finger and thumb then ground them together until I yelped. “Just don’t think I’m now a fucking angel.”
Grimacing, teeth gritted, I said the
obvious, “Never.”
He didn’t notice me drop the flower.
“Good. Clothes on.” He drew my nipple outward so that I had to shuffle forward on my knees. “I’d rather discuss this further in private, away from the bugs and the crocs.”
“Crocs?”
“Crocodiles.”
Of course. As if I’d been in any doubt. Why were we still here?
While he waited, I quickly pulled my dress over my head, slipped it into place. My panties were not returned. I had to lead the way over the same trail we had come down. We were passed by a laughing couple returning to the resort, then a family group equipped with flashlights.
I watched them go, filled with a yearning for normality. Why me? It was a question I had asked myself many times.
Then another man passed us, heading in the opposite direction. Dark, short hair, shadowed eyes, an olive complexion, and black leather gloves – an unremarkable man if not for the gloves. There was one other thing – I recognized him. He was one of the men who had assaulted me at Ted’s house. Not rape, but he’d come close to it.
His subtle double-take then faint sneer almost made me halt, but I kept going.
I kept walking, in a daze. What should I do?
It seemed as if Isak had not recognized him. Though he had been concussed.
If I said nothing, would more of those men arrive? Probably. In the confusion might I not escape? Especially with Isak a little less all-powerful. It was possible, but unlikely, and being a captive of these other men held more uncertainty than any day with Isak.
Which was both alarming and reassuring. Up to a point, I trusted Isak more than a random, murderous criminal.
We entered the little resort house, and I turned to speak. I should tell him.
“Ummm.”
One finger held upright was all it took to silence me.
Torn, I stared at that finger and his face.
“Crawl up.” He flicked the finger, indicating the spiral stairs.
Very well, suck on this, Isak. Condemn yourself to whatever happens. They will fuck you up if they catch you.
How had they found us? The red Porsche might be how, if they had seen it taken? I imagined Ted and his associates as some vast spider-web affair of Australia-wide bad guys. Unlikely. They must have lucked out.
The Book of Red: ISAK & Red and bonus prequel Used Page 10