Afflicted↠ Newt [1]

Chapter 25

~TRIGGER WARNING~
This chapter contains mature themes and very graphic, sexual scenes. Read at your own risk. If you are under the age of 13, I sugest you skip this. There will be a quick, non-graphic synopsis of the chapter in the next update.

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-3rd POV-
"George?" She stood up frantically, pressing her back against the tree, trying to get as much distance between herself and the boy as possible.
"Hey, Emily," George smiled a gross, menacing smile. One that made her shudder. His smile quickly formed into a frown, his eyes narrowing as they traveled up and down her body. "Are you not happy to see me?"
"What are you doing here?" She ignored his question. She knew, by the way the boy looked at her, that he was going to overpower her, do things to her. So she had to stall for time, wait for the right moment to either make a run for it or call for help.
"You didn't answer my question, princess," His lips curled into a smirk as he called her the name only Newt called her. "Are you not happy to see me?"
"At the moment, no." She tried to sound brave, though her voice shook as she spoke. George stepped closer to her. He was now only inches away from her, staring down at her through small, beady eyes. She cowered closer to the tree, wishing that it was only a dream. A terrible, horrible nightmare. She longed for Newt to be there, and she now wished that she had allowed him to come. If only she hadn't been so stubborn, she wouldn't have been in the situation she was now.
"And why not?" George took yet another step towards her.
"B-Because I want to be alone." She choked out. It wasn't a lie, though she hoped he believed her. She looked up at him, stared him in the eyes before quickly dropping her gaze with a shudder. She couldn't bear looking at him. The way his small, beady, lust-filled eyes traveled up and down her body. A simple glance at him disgusted her, made her want to throw up.
His brown hair was ruffled, stuck to his forehead with sweat that ran down his temples. His face and hands were covered in dirt and grime from working in the gardens all day. His face was a light shade of red, his blue eyes bloodshot. Those eyes... they were feral; full of insanity. His pupils dilated and contrasted as he stared her up and down. He licked his lips, brought them in between his teeth as he spoke.
"I don't think that's going to happen, Emily," he cocked his head to the side. His hand traveled to her waist, his fingers snaking their way up her shirt, playing with the hem of her jeans. "You see, you rejected me. Rejected my sincere apology. That makes me angry. And when I'm angry I want things. Do you understand what I mean by things?" Her eyes widened, her mouth open in a silent scream as she nodded. "I'm going to get my way with you, Emily. And you're going to be quiet while I do this. Do you understand?"
She felt lightheaded at his words, reality hitting her like a bus. She knew what he was going to do, and her fear increased as he pulled at the hem of her jeans. His hands suddenly clamped the neck of her shirt. She thrashed around, arms flailing, hoping to hit something- anything. Her fish connected with something soft- flesh. A small grunt of pain came from the boy, though it barely fased him. She was too weak.
"You should save your energy for the real thing, Emily." He hissed into her ear, the slightest hint of frustration in his tone. "You're going to need it."
Anger overcame the fear inside her, and she kicked upwards, aiming for his weakest point. Her shin came in contact with his groin, causing him to hiss in pain. He let go of her for a mere second, but that second was enough. She lashed out, punched him across the face, made him hunch over in pain. He reached out with his hand, grabbing her legs from underneath her. She fell to the ground with a thud, hitting her head on a tree root. Light flashed in her vision, pain shot throughout her body as George pinned her hands above her head.
"You're going to regret that," His lips were inches from her, his breath hitting her face as he spoke. Tears formed in her eyes, slipping down her cheeks without her even realizing it. She felt an odd feeling of peace wash over her, and she relaxed slightly.
An image flashed in her vision. That of a boy. His dark brown eyes stared at her pleadingly, his face twisted in fear for her. His voice echoed in her mind, barely audible, but there all the same.
"Don't give up, Emily. Not now. You can't allow this to happen to you."
She shook her head, tears slipping from her eyes as the boy disappeared. She struggled in George's arms, limbs flailing desperately. But it was no use. He was just too strong. A rough pair of hands grabbed her sides, fingers trailing down the waistband of her jeans.
"P-please," she whispered feebly. "Please don't do this."
Her vision was blurry from tears, causing everything to seem distroted. George looked at her, and for a moment she thought she saw a flash of sympathy.
"Emily," he growled, his face twisting in frustration. "Give up. It's not going to work."
"Stop!" She screamed, shifted under his weight. Her arms flailed out, puching, slapping, scratching anything it could come in contact with. Her throat was burning, her vision blurry. She reached up and grabbed George's face, pulling at his skin with whatever energy she had left. He let out a grunt as she ripped at his skin, tearing scratches in it with her nails. Two hands gripped her shoulders, picking her up before slamming her back down on the ground. Her head slammed against the tree root once again, and her vision went black. There was a seering pain in the back of her skull, a dull ringing in her ears. The pain was unbearable, and she just wished it could be over.
She felt her clothes being ripped at, her legs being spread apart. Her vocal chords felt as if they were ripped to shreds. She tasted acid as she gagged, burning at her throat.
And the pain. Oh, the pain. It was as if a thousand needles were stabbing at her insides. A intense pain burned in her stomach, stabbing her back. The pain increased with every movement she made. Every sound she made was full of pain. Full of misery. She wanted it all to be over.
She could only just lie there as tears streamed down her face, her energy drained completely.
She barely knew what was going on in reality. Her vision was full of dancing red and blue lights, her ears ringing with the faint sounds of rough, male grunts. Her head spinning as her body shook with the force of George's pleasure.
After what seemed like lifetimes, the pain finally stopped. She opened her eyes as the weight lifted off of her. Her legs aches, sweat dappled her body. The dirt around her legs was stained dark with blood. She stared at it as it soaked into the ground, her head spinning. She was numb, feeling nothing but the aching pain between her legs.
A figure stood over her, only a silhouette against the setting sun. His shoulders shook from his heavy breathing. He kneeled down beside her, ran a finger across her cheek. She wanted to sit up, to beat the living mess out of him, but she fear that if she moved an inch, the pain would be too much to send her over the edge. So she just lay there, limp, staring helplessly up at the sky as George ran his hands up her body.
"I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did."
His words sent her over the edge. Anger bubbled up inside of her, she struggled to move. Pain shot through her lower half as she sat up. George sat back, a smirk on his face. Her eyes darted around her, searching for something, anything that she could use. A rock, about the size of her hand, lay not even a foot away from them. Her brain buzzed as an idea appeared into her mind. She looked over at George, trying to look as vulnerable as possible.
"It's over. You got what you wanted."
She inched closer to the rock, hoping with everything she had in her that he wouldn't notice. He was too busy cleaning himself off, only a grunt in reply as she spoke. She moved closer and closer to the rock, until both her hands were grasped firmly around it. She stood up, her knees buckling as she did. She almost lost her balance, but she quickly regained it. This was her only chance. She held the rock behind her, hiding it from George's view.
"So the princess can stand up?" He said tauntingly and smirked. "I'm surprised, after how rough I was with you."
Her fingers shifted against the rock, felt her heart pounding in her chest.
"Just leave now, George. I-I'm begging you," she stammered, her voice scratchy. "I don't want to do this."
"Do what?" George snickered, standing up. He stepped closer to her, raised an eyebrow. "What are you gonna do, Emily? Besides call for your little boyfriend. You're weak. You can't do anything."
She found herself to smirk. "Do this."
She grabbed the rock and flung it as hard as she could. It came in contact with George's stomach, pushing him to the ground. He lay winded for a moment before snapping back into reality. But it was too late. She was already on top of him, a branch in her hand. She brought the limb down on to his face. The sound of cartilage cracking told her that she broke his nose. Blood splurted out of his nostrils as he let out a grunt of pain. His hands found his way to his nose, he lay writhering on the ground in pain. She grabbed ahold of the rock once more and held it above her head.
Anger fumed inside of her, taking place of every rational thought her brain could process. She saw nothing but red as she brought the rock down on to the boy's neck. An awful cracking sound sounded, followed by an ear-splitting scream. She brought the rock down on George's skull over and over again, blood spluttering from his head and on to her hands. The boy's screams stopped long ago, the sound of bone crushing, blood spluttering, flesh ripping, and her grunts being the only sound that filled the air. She continued to bring the rock down on to the boy's head over and over again until exhaustion took over her. She fell to the ground, her hands sticky with George's blood.
The bushes to her side rustled, and out stepped three boys, their figures only silhouettes against the sun. Silence hung around the four Gladers as the three boys stared down at the mangled, bloody corpse of George. It was as if time had paused itself as they gaped at the body before them.
Then, one boy spoke. She immediately recognized it as Minho.
"What the actual shuck."
"Emily?" It was Alby that spoke. There was a gagging sound, followed by a wet, spluttering sound and Minho groaning. Alby took a step towards her, his eyes hard as he stared at the girl.
She ignored him, calmy dressing herself. Her heart was pounding in her head, and she was sure she was going to pass out at any given moment.
Newt pushed past Alby and approached her. He payed no attention to the mangled body at his feet, or her bloody hands as he pulled her into a hug. She buried her face into his chest, sobs racking her body.
"What happened?" Newt asked softly, stroking her hair. Despite George's corpse, his screams of pain, and her bloody hands, he couldn't feel any anger towards Emily.
She felt strangely calm, an odd feeling of peace. She expected her voice to shake as she spoke, but it didn't. The words came out clear, "I fucking killed him."
"Tie her up," she barely heard Alby's words, as she was already slipping into a blissful state.
"Alby, no," Newt's chest vibrated under her cheek as he spoke, his grip around her tightened.
"Did you hear me? I said tie her up!" Alby's voice shook. Whether it was with anger or fear, she didn't know. She didn't exactly care. "Throw her ass in the Slammer. Minho, call a gathering."
Emily barely heard his last words, they were only a mixure of different slurs. She felt herself slipping into a peaceful blackness.

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A/N:
AND SCENE.
Holy shuck guys, holy shuck.
What just happened? O.O
This is my first time writing such a graphic scene, and I'm pretty proud of it tbh.
What's gonna happen, hmmmm?
Find out in the next chapter, which also happens to be THE VERY LAST CHAPTER OF THIS BOOK!
But don't worry, because, like I said in a previous chapter, I shall be writing a sequel :3
ILY all and until next time <3