Complications

Part 3, Who are You?

*warning, this chapter may be triggering to some readers and contains detailed sexual content. read at your own risk.*

Mark's POV

I took a good moment to really look at her. I took it all in, scars and all.  I'm not one for romanticising depression and shit,  but she really was beautiful. Behind her tired eyes was a girl who probably laughed and smiled once upon a time, and genuinely meant it. But she was right, I'm just a kidnapper. A rapist, a murderer. Shit, I have done worse than rape a depressed girl, why not?

I just... she reminds me of a girl I used to know. So much. God, I really do miss my sister... 


*FLASHBACK IN 14-YEAR-OLD MARK'S POV*

I ran down the hallway to my mother's room, hoping to find a bit of congratulation for winning my basketball game. I slipped and crashed into the bathroom door, making it fall out of its frame. I rubbed my shoulder, which took most of the blow,  and inspected the damage.

"shoot," I thought, "mom's gonna kill me."  As I went to pick up the door and attempt to make it look slightly less destroyed, I froze in my tracks. There was water on the floor, coming from the tub. The curtains were closed, and I couldn't hear anyone. I noticed something else, too- the water was tinted red. I took a huge step forward and flung the shower curtain aside, only to see my older sister laying with a look of scary peace on her face, a long vertical slash going down her right arm, a razor blade resting in the palm of her left hand.

I was frozen. I was terrified. I lightly shook her shoulders, and when I said her name it came out strangled and weak. "Lacy?"  The slight movement caused her head to fall forward and her mouth opened at an odd angle, and that was when I knew for sure what I had been dreading since I saw the water. I fell back. I backed up to the doorway. I drew in a breath.

I screamed.

*FLASHBACK OVER*

I can't get sentimental over that right now. I needed a girl for my own needs. It doesn't matter who she is. Who she looks like. Who she could become...
"It doesn't matter It doesn't matter It doesn't matter It doesn't matter nothing fucking matters you can't care about them they are nothing they are objects they are mine she is mine she doesn't matter god just fuck her like you want to and get it over with and kill her" I start talking myself into doing it. I can just fuck her and get it over with. It'll be fine. 

She won't be fine though... fuck I do care.

Ashlyn's POV

I have been sitting in this damned place for maybe three hours now, dreading what I know is to come. Right after I asked him not to fool me, he stormed off to a private part of this trailer or camper or whatever it is, and I have been listening to him talking to himself ever since, though I haven't quite been able to make out his words.

I haven't moved out of my spot on the bed for fear he will be mad, because who knows what he is capable of. I have been having a constant inner battle with myself because I don't know If I would rather him painlessly kill me, or if it's more than I deserve. Maybe he should torture me first. Though I know I have no actual choice in the matter so I should probably stop worrying about something I can't change.

I just stare at the wall, trying to block out all emotions. It worked, too. Years of perfecting it helps, I guess.

Suddenly, he walks out, with a gun in his hand. He looks at me with a mixture of anger and compassion, with a hint of... lust? Well, I guess that's why he took me in the first place... I shouldn't be surprised. But I didn't think he would want me after he saw how disgusting and ugly and fat I am.  I thought maybe he would just make fun of me and hurt me and kill me.

"Now listen," he says softly, as I stare at him blankly. "I don't want to hurt you. I don't want you to have to suffer anymore. " He places his hand on my shoulder and lightly rubs a tiny circle on it with his thumb. I shiver involuntarily, and he smiles softly. "But, I do need something from you." Though the way he says it seems as though he might be asking for a simple five dollars, or a ride somewhere, I know the situation I'm in, and this small sentence is anything but innocent. "Do you think you can help me out a little bit, Ashlyn?" His hand traces a line from my shoulder to my neck, his fingers oh so tender and distracting.  He leans in close to my ear and whispers softly "Can you give me what I want so I don't have to hurt you? Can you do that for me?"

It shouldn't have any effect on me at all, but I can't deny the fact that it does. It makes me anxious, and cold, and hot and flustered all at the same time. I look up into his eyes and see his hunger and softness and dominance all mixing in his mind, each emotion fighting for control over his actions. My eyes go wide and I realize I almost want him to do this to me... what is going on?
"Well?" he says, still holding the gun, with his hand laying on my shoulder, almost in a comforting way. I gulp. I make my decision.

"Yes," I whisper as I avoid his eyes out of shame and fear. He is going to do it, either way, so this way at least I hope I won't get hurt.

Mark's POV

I'm surprised to see the want in her eyes, and that mixed with her fear as I'm standing above her makes her all the more desirable. She looks so innocent-in fact, I'll bet she's probably a virgin. 'Oh shit, I don't want to rape this poor girl.' I think as she is making her decision, which I'm sure will be a no. But I can't help it, It's who I am. I have needs. But when she looks down and says yes, well I'm so confused on so many levels. Is she just scared? does she actually... want me??? Who knows, but I should probably tie her up either way. I hear her cute little gasp as I lightly kiss her cheek, and then see the blush run to her pale skin, and a small tear run down her cheek in her confusion and shame. "No no no, shh baby don't cry. It's going to be okay, I'm going to take care of you. It's going to be alright, as long as you do what I say, alright?" I say softly as I wiper her tear away.

She hides her face and whispers a small "okay,"

"Don't hide your beautiful face from me, okay? I want to see you all the time. You have no reason to be ashamed." I see her raise her head and look everywhere but me, with worry and fear etched on her face, and get a bit impatient. "Listen, look at me." I grab her chin in my hands and make her meet my eyes. "You're going to be okay. Trust me." I walk away, and grab some handcuffs, the softest pair I own, bought for the comfort of someone who I intended on keeping, never having been worn.  I walk back to her to see a couple more tears on her face, but she quickly wipes them away when she sees me coming. She notices the handcuffs and her eyes go wide with terror as she slowly backs up, focusing intensely on them.

"Mark, please no. I... can't handle that, I-I won't be able to do it..." her voice breaks a bit and it breaks my heart, though I don't know why she has this effect on me. 

"Shh, don't cry, Ashlyn, It's okay, I just have to make sure you're not going to disobey me, alright? It's okay. But listen, you will call me Sir. Okay?" I said seriously, looking into her tear filled eyes.

"I... I'm sorry," she said.

"You're sorry..."

"I'm sorry, Sir." She said as she met my eyes. There. She learned quickly.

"Good girl," I said as I patted her head like a dog, while she winced at the small touch expecting something like a hit when I first raised my hand. "now, hold out your hands in front of you." She gulped and shakily obeyed as I clasped the padded cuffs onto her, and then eyes her up and down.

"Now those clothes will need to come off."