Grand Master Planet Eater (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} zarla) wrote,@ 2003-10-31 02:58:00 |
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| Current mood: |  accomplished |
| Current music: | 1550. Zelda 64 Remix CD - Title Theme |
~Dear President Bush
I feel obligated to warn you before you read this.
Yes, this is the fic I was talking about before. Yes, this is it. This is what made me break into hysterical braintrauma fits DURING THE FIC ITSELF.
This fic will hurt you. If writing it was any indication, anyway.
It does, however, have a cute ending. Because I'm a sap.
le_beez, I don't know if you should read this or not. On one hand, it may scar you for life. On da other, it may be da funniest thing you read ever.
Actually, that goes fer everyone.
I would also like ta apologize fer this. Many, many times. I'm sorry fer inflicting this on the internet.
Oh yeah. It's called Alarm cause we had a fire alarm recently cause a moron burned his popcorn, and I was so outraged by this that I wanted to write porn. YES. THAT IS HOW I REACTED. THANKS BRAIN. And thank Bush. His anti-porn week has inspired so much porn out of me. This is probably da porniest thing I have ever written or will ever write.
Again.
I'm very sorry.
Oh yeah, and I haven't edited this. In any way. Which means everything ya read here is exactly how it came out. And there may be spelling/grammar errors which, someday if I'm strong, I will clean up.
THIS CONTAINS RAPE, AS A WARNING.
(By "I AM REALLY REALLY SORRY" Zar)
(Warning: I am not responsible fer any mental damage caused by reading this fic.)
Oh, there was always a weak point. Always some weakness that could be exploited. He knew that. Knew it from experience. Knew it because that was what he did. That was what he had always done. He drew his power from weakness after all. That was his source of life, inspiration. Weakness had born him and raised him, and he knew it well. He knew how to find it. He knew how to abuse it.
He knew how to have fun with it.
There was always a weak point. Sometimes, it was a little difficult to find, but it always came. Moments where he could investigate, confirm, and conclude. What could he use.
What could he do.
A world of infinite possibilities. He had never had true limitations. Never to be destroyed. Never to be completly forgotten. He dwelled inside everyone, every being. Everything that existed, he could find himself again, find inspiration and power.
Sometimes it was difficult to find that weakness. To wait for that opening. Sometimes it didn't work, his access prevented by chemical or other means. But he could wait. He could always wait.
The fun was always worth it.
In this instance, it took no effort at all.
It had been referred to as the eternal sleep, after all.
What are you afraid of.
What are you afraid of, hmm?
It's not too hard to see. It's not hard to find fear beneath anger.
But I can feel it. And I know. Hatred sometimes burns true.
Pain. I want to cause pain. So much pain. And I know how to do it.
Because you hate me. And I hate you too.
And causing you so much pain would surely be worth a few...a little unpleasantness.
Oh, it will be sweet. It will be so very sweet.
I can only imagine the look in your glazed, vacant eyes.
God, I love abusing power. I'm just so #$&# good at it.
What the...
Confusion.
The last thing he remembered was walking into the lake again, carrying another body with him to store. He didn't recall moving much after that. Had he made it to the island? What happened? Had another plucky teenager buried a machete in his back and knocked him out for a few minutes?
There's no way one of them could have moved him however. He was far too large for that. There was a reason he was almost impossible to stop. He was lumbering force that could hardly be contained.
So it wouldn't make sense that some kid had managed to knock him out and move him somewhere else.
Particularly somewhere so confined and small. And hot.
And why was he kneeling?
Upon closer inspection, Jason OW OH MY GOD I'M REALLY WRITING THIS OH JESUS
Sorry.
Okay.
Upon closer inspection, Jason Voorhees, the famed Cystal Lake killer, came to the conclusion that he had been restrained somehow. That was entirely unfamiliar. Nothing on Earth had been able to stop him before. Steel doors crumpled underneath his huge fists. Fire barely slowed him down. These metal things around his wrists should have been easy to wrench apart, and yet they stayed, pinning his hands together. He strained his considerable muscles against them, and yet they refused to break.
Not the quickest on the uptake, Jason looked closer and noticed chains leading down from the steel bands onto the grating that made up the floor. They were soldered in place, firmly closing the lock withut much chance to move.
That was easy enough. Just pull the chains out of the floor. Heck, even take the floor out as well. Why not.
Jason pulled as best he could, but found that the chains that tied him down the floor had the same unbelievable strength as the bands tying his hands together.
He moved his legs in order so settle in a cross-legged position and felt something tug at his thick neck. Normally, Jason was as about as oblivious to his surroundings as a brick wall, but this managed to catch his attention. It seemed that whatever miraculously strong material had bonded his hands together had also appeared around his neck. He craned his head back and looked upwards. Three thicker chains lead from behind his head upwards, wrapping and locking against a pipe above him.
Annoyed, Jason pulled at them as best he could in his current position, but found they did not give. The pipe itself did not even fracture underneath the incredible pressure he exerted.
Frankly, Jason was confused. In his entire life, undead or not, he had never found something that he could not overcome with sheer, brute strength. Even stupid teenagers armed with any kind of weapon could not stop him. He just had to keep coming at them and eventually he would reach them. It was the simplest and easiest solution.
Not to mention that if he was able to tear a person's head off with one twist of his hands, then there was no way that such a thin pipe above him could actually hold him in place.
What was going on?
Dumbfounded, Jason sat numbly on the floor, unable to come up with any kind of solution. His one answer to everything had been to smash, but now that didn't work. He had no idea what to do.
He looked around himself more carefully, not because he was looking for a way out, but because he wanted to know who had put him here.
It was a boiler room. One that, somewhere on a deep level, to him seemed familiar. He could not exactly place why. His memory kind of fogged at that point, as most of his memories tended to do over time. Dark and lit with a faint red light, steam hissed and poured out around him. When he looked down, he found he was sitting on a catwalk some distance above the ground.
Baffled, he could not even guess as to who could have done this. Abstract concepts were not exactly Jason's forte.
He heard someone moving behind him, the tap of footsteps against a steel grating. It took him a few moments to connect the footsteps with the presence of another person, but once he did he obligingly turned his head around to see who it was that had somehow imprisoned him.
Although Jason was not the best with names, he could remember feelings. He felt a surge of anger and rage rise at the man who walked out in front of him, burned skin pulled around an arrogant smirk.
He remembered him. He hurt him somehow. Jason did not exactly appreciate that. It didn't really matter that he didn't exactly remember how. Jason wanted to smash him. But the restraints prevented such an action.
He stood in front of him, diminuitive and yet so amazingly arrogant and confident. Eventually, after apparently gloating over the fact the behemoth could not rise to attack him, he kneeled down so that he could meet Jason's eyes with his own. Even kneeling, the child murderer was shorter then he was.
Jason's slow mind returned to his initial question. How had someone so small managed to drag someone as large as he to this place? That didn't make sense.
"Truly like a stupid dog." Freddy....oh god. Oh god why. Okay. Sorry. Freddy spoke slowly, his words thick and rough as he stared into Jason's quizzical eyes. "You have no idea how you got here."
Jason mutely tried to reach out for him, but his hand's movement was limited, and Freddy only watched the movement with little interest.
"Although I can see you're upset. That's good. A little...set-up to our adventure for today."
Jason narrowed his eyes. Of course, he had no idea what Freddy was planning. As a matter of fact, the idea of a "plan" at all was foreign to Jason. More of a "live-for-the-moment" kind of guy when it came down to it. Basically at the moment, Jason just felt angry and probably wasn't exactly clear on why.
Freddy settled down into a cross-legged position, mirroring Jason's current one, and stared at him as he rested his head on his claw-less hand. He stared at Jason for a minute, as if waiting for a reaction, before speaking. "You aren't exactly the brightest bulb in the box, so I bet you can't remember much. You still hate me though, which I think is more then enough to make this enjoyable." He smirked. "Pain is always fun."
Jason just continued glaring at him, and Freddy stared back, still smirking. It took almost two minutes before Jason realized he could not move his fingers.
When he looked down to find out what happened, Freddy laughed at him. Smaller bands now bound his fingers together, making gripping all but impossible. Jason was annoyed now that he wouldn't be able to choke Freddy, which he had been fairly sure he was going to do.
"You really are stupid." Jason looked back up at him, the meaning of his words completly missing him. The only reason that he had looked up is because he had broken his concentration. He leaned his head to one side as Freddy gestured with the thin razors on his one hand.
"I hate you, you hate me. But guess what." Freddy's smirk seemed almost perpetual. He pointed at him carelessly. "You're in my world now. That means it's time for some fun."
Freddy reached forward with the tip of one of his claws, tapping it against the plastic of Jason's mask. "Just smashing you up doesn't seem to have a great deal of effect on you. So I've thought of a different way to kill you."
Jason understood a few words, but the entire message that Freddy was trying to convey was somewhat lost on him. Truly, not the brightest of the undead.
Oh my god. I swear. I don't know if I can do this. I'm tryin ta distract myself but it's all like FINISH ME YOU SADISTIC WHORE and I'm like *weep* god has forsaken me. I really AAAAAAAAGH okay. Okay. I think I'm under control. I think I can...jesus. Jesus christ. I'm actually writing this. I'M ACTUALLY WRITING THIS. OH MY GOD. okay. okay. I'm fine. I'm fine. Okay. I can do this. Deep breaths, Zar.
Okay, I just went and wasted an hour avoiding this. I can't do this. No. No I CAN do this. I WILL. For the good of Anti-Porn week! I WILL.
Well, as porntastic as I could get. Ya know I'm a big wuss. I am.
Okay. Deep breath...deep breath...I can do this. I can. I can. Okay. Okay. I think I'm okay now.
He
FRICK. Okay. Sorry. Okay. I can do this. Give me a minute. Great, Stabbing Westward. I need THAT now.
Jason stared at him, waiting. He was waiting for his hands to be given motion again with some strange sense of certainty that they would. Jason wasn't too clear on the concept of giving up. Or losing.
Freddy reached forward, one sharp point of his claw digging into the massively scarred chest in front of him. Considering Jason's less than stellar track record in the "noticing things" department, he wasn't even aware that the tattered jacket and clothes that covered his upper body had vanished, leaving sickly blue skin exposed. Almost every inch of the large serial killer was covered with thick bands of scars. Sharp, deep lines from bladed implements, occasional patches of wrinkled flesh from flame, a few longer lines clumsily stitched back together.
While Freddy's form depended on his current mood, Jason had no such ability. Each battle he lumbered through left its mark. The currently deepening wound of Freddy's claw in his chest was miniscule compared to the rest of the misshapen flesh. A drop of blood welled around the steel point, but considering how Jason hadn't looked away from Freddy's eyes made it clear that Jason could not even feel such a pinprick.
Freddy withdrew his hands, staring at the scars that traced his body. With a rush of sadistic enthusiasm, he realized that it was entirely possible that some of those were his.
And now he had the utter freedom to create more.
He clicked the blades against one another with practiced ease, and rested their edges against one of Jason's broad shoulders. Although he was sure that Jason was aware of this action, he didn't move. Maybe he couldn't. Or he didn't understand what Freddy was trying to do. Either was a legitimate guess.
Trying to decide where he preferred to leave his mark, Freddy trailed the tips of his blades downwards, feeling the occasional dip and rise of a claw sinking in and out of deep scar tissue.
With that mask in place, it was impossible to really gauge his expression. But on the whole, Jason just appeared to be confused. People don't touch Jason Voorhees. They stab, cut, bludgeon, maim, impale, or possible set on fire Jason Voorhees. Of course, these kind of thoughts assumed that Jason was capable of such higher brain functions. Which was entirely up to debate.
Freddy was not going to take off the mask. He preferred not to have to stare at him if he had to. Jason wore that mask for a reason, after all.
Oh god. Oh god. Jesus. Jesus it's going to start now. Oh god help me. Help me. I don't even know where Jason got that mask. Jesus. AGH. Okay, under control again. Must stop avoiding this.
BUT GOD WHY WHY WHY ::slaps self:: Kay. I'm okay.
J
god. okay.
Jason
ccmon cmon CMON
Jason
Christ, I can't do this. Well, not now. I'm gonna wake up tomorrow and finish it. Okay, maybe another paragraph.
He didn't have to pretend to be gentle. He sank the blades deep into one of Jason's arms, feeling the massive muscles twitch helplessly as he tried to move away. So he could feel that. He dragged the razors further down into dead flesh as he leaned in closer towards him, bridging the distance between them. He moved close to Jason's ear, noting how he was trembling with exertion in an effort to get revenge, to do something.
"Just beginning..."
Jesus. Oh god. This is so wrong. This is SO WRONG. This is...agh. I'm going to cry myself to sleep now.
Okay. I'm awake again. It still burns. Jesus. It burns me. oh god. OH GOD. Okay. I can do this. I can.
I
I can. Deep breaths.
Okay. I can do this. I just need ta give up any semblance of respectability or integrity and write this. I just need ta sit and write this. No matter how horrible it's going to be. I HAVE TO WRITE THIS. Curse you, Anti-porn week. You've scarred me fer life. BET YA NEVER SAW THAT COMIN DID YA BUSH?
Okay. Okay. Sitting and calming down. I can do this. I CAN do this. If I can write a Karim-necrophilia fic, I can write this.
He
DARN IT THAT NECROPHILIA FIC WASN'T SERIOUS AAAAAAA
Okay. I know. I know. I'll just be very sarcastic through this. That's it. It'll be a parody or something. Yeah. I'll make it a parody. Yeah. Cmon brain. Let's go. We can do this. Just calm down and breath. Okay. I can do this.
Claws still imbedded into his skin, he didn't move for some time, almost frozen in place. Jason continued to try and move away, to free his arms and wreak revenge for such damage. He wanted to fight back. He wanted to DO something about this. But as it was, his hands were useless and tied. He poured all of his strength into attempting to break what held him, but it refused to even creak in response to his efforts. Freddy remained where he was, his face close to one of Jason's ears, feeling the larger man's blood filling the gashes caused by his claws.
They always did tend to bleed a lot.
"I know what you're afraid of." Freddy could almost feel Jason's helpless rage as he could do nothing. "Why it bothers you to see teenagers #%&#ing around..."
Freddy pulled his claws out of Jason's arms, strings of blood following their departure. Jason just stared at him from behind his mask, apparently not understanding what he was talking about. Again, no real surprise there.
At the sight of his blood trailing from the razors on Freddy's hand, Jason followed them down to his arm. His eyes widened, although it would have been safe to guess it was because he didn't know where his clothing had gone rather then worry over such a wound. He had suffered worse and besides, physical wounds could not stop him. The sudden and unexpected disappearance of clothing, however, was a new experience, meriting the confused look in his eyes.
Four almost parallel gashes running down the man's bicep, trickling blood steadily. Jason attempted to stand, but his bonds prevented him from moving upwards. Had he been able to connect the concept of Freddy, mysteriously powerful chains, and a boiler room, he may have been able to understand. As it was, Jason had no idea just how much trouble he was really in at this point. Or just how little power he really had. Powerlessness was not something Jason knew about. After all, Jason worked on very simple principles that involved lumbering into or at something until it stopped moving. Dreamworlds were completely beyond his grasp.
God. I can't believe I'm doing this. Sorry. I'm really, really sorry.
With a gesture of his hand, the chains that held Jason's head forward shifted back, pulling Jason along with them. The rules of physics did not apply. Jason was now forced to sit up straight, his arms still pulled downwards. His scarred and burned chest was now exposed AGHUAHIOTJG sorry. Sorry. Okay. His scarred and burned chest was now exposed, the prick made by Freddy's claws earlier bleeding a small trail downwards.
Another wave of the hand and Jason was moved from his kneeling position, his legs instead in front of him. Before he could even think of moving them, the same familiar chains that held his hands formed around his ankles, trapping them against the grating. At the same moment, the chains that previously had held his hands to the grating let loose, flying upwards to join the ones that held his head upwards. This dragged his hands along with them,
ow. sorry.
This dragged his hands along with them, raising them above his head and pinning them there.
Now he sat, his hands pulled above his head, his back forced straight, and his legs pinned in front of him. He stared at Freddy throughout all of this, although it may not have been likely that he connected these occurences with him. That may have been a leap of logic too great for the hockey-masked killer.
The blood from the new gashes made its way along the underside of his arms down the side of his chest. He inclined his head at Freddy, as if to ask what he thought he was doing. Not that he would have understood if he got an answer.
Jesus. Oh god. Sorry. Okay. I'm putting this off, but I don't think I can flutter around the issue anymore. Oh jesus. Okay. I'm just going to have to go fer it. Just dive right in, so ta speak. Jesus. God. WHY DOES MY BRAIN WANT TO KEEP THEM IN CHARACTER?! THIS ISN'T IN CHARACTER! THIS ISN'T A PLOT! ARRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHH just frigging make Freddy start saying stupid typical non-con stuff and HAVE IT OVER WITH but Noooooooo, my brain wants hideous pain and violence and MAYBE some sexual stuff later on with typical terrible one-liners and GOD SHUT UP BRAIN SHUT UP
Okay. Okay, sorry. I kind of lost it for a minute there. This fic is hurting me. It's hurting me inside. I'm just gonna hafta go fer it. Go for it. Go for it. NO I WON'T BE DISTRACTED ANYMORE.
::gets distracted for twenty minutes::
Okay. Okay. I'm better now. I can do this. I can do this. Okay. This is it, brain. This is it. This is where it gets serious. This is where it all comes down ta da wire. I can do this. I can do anything, I can do this. Okay. Okay. I'm pumped. Let's go.
Freddy ow. Sorry. Okay. My brain.
Freddy now sat between Jason's legs, staring upwards at him. Even when sitting, Jason still had the advantage of height, staring down at Freddy with his typical blank b
Okay. Sorry. I just wasted like...an hour. avoiding this. But I swear. I swear this time I'll stop avoiding this and I'll actually do it. I will. Okay. I can do this.
Typical blank expression. If he had the ability, he was sure that Jason would have lunged at him to fight back for the previously inflicted injury, but at the moment all he could do was stare.
Such furious helplessness.
Finding a particularly large scar that ran down the center of Jason's chest, Freddy trailed the tip of one of his claws along its center, not hard enough to reopen the scar but to simply trace its path. With some sense of amusement, he noticed the muscles around the scar twitching involuntarily. The customary glee that came with power and control came over him and he pushed against his large chest for a minute. Jason moved back slightly, but on the whole there was not enough power to sufficiently move him.
Those blank eyes still stared at him from behind that hockey mask, confused.
Gaaaaaah. Sorry. I'm sorry. I...what's da word? I'm squicking MYSELF. That's it. Ironic I could READ something like this, but writing it seems ta be an entirely different story. Argh. Okay. I'm gonna do this. I am. Okay. I know where I'm going to go with this. I know how this will work. Okay. I can write this. I can do this. I can. I can. I really can. Stop hitting yourself in the head, Zar. Get a hold of yourself. Okay. Okay, I can do this. Just take a deep breath and jump in.
Freddy raised his claws and wrapped them around Jason's neck, feeling his heart somehow beating underneath his bluish skin. The muscles in his hand tightened for a moment, but he fought the urge.
"Could rip your %&#$in' throat out..." He mumbled, letting the claws drift away from his neck downwards. Jason struggled for a few moments, apparently having forgotten that he could not move whatsoever. Freddy watched him with his typical sneer as he let the claws dig in slightly deeper, beginning to draw blood. Jason again struggled, trying to get at his attacker, but with his arms pinned above him there was little he could do.
Jesus christ, there's something wrong with me. There's something really, really wrong with me. I'm not joking.
Incapable of sound, the only noise of protest Jason could make were thick, rasping breaths through his ever-present mask, which Freddy noted with a tinge of satisfaction. Power. God, he loved power.
He let his clawed hand
Christ, there's like...a fifteen second pause between each word. That's how much this hurts.
He let the palm of his altered glove rest against Jason's chest, over the scar he had previously traced along. The tips of the claws rested on his skin but did not pierce this time. Freddy straightened up until he was almost on level with Jason's face, although he was too short to match him perfectly. He stared at the disfigured mask, at the eyes that were still confused as well as angry.
He let his other, less dangerous hand drift lower GAAAHFUGHIAJTO
Sorry. Sorry. Okay.
He let his other hand drift lower over him, over numerous scars and clumsy, thick stitches that traced the massive killer's abdomen, slipping beneath the band of the pants that for some reason still existed.
That's it, I'm taking a shower. I feel dirty. I feel really dirty.
Okay. I'm back. I think I can do this. I think I can handle this without any more outbursts.
A little searching...ah...there it is.
The best way to describe the noise that Jason made shortly thereafter could possibly be "HRRRRRNnmm," but it wasn't that eloquent.
Jason strained forward, the muscles on his upper back and arms flexing as he tried to break free once again. He pulled so fiercely against the collar around his neck that he began to have trouble breathing, almost panicky hoarse breaths pulled in quickly through his mask.
Freddy moved his clawed hand to Jason's face without too much concern, pushing his head back until he could breathe again. With a tone that indicated he was having entirely too much fun with what he was doing, Freddy quipped, "Excuse me, I'm doing the choking here."
Unable to respond, Jason just gasped for breath. That was all he could do, considering.
Eventually, Jason stopped trying to move forward towards him, instead just sitting straight up, utterly confused. It was very likely that he had absolutely no idea what was going on or what he was experiencing, other than perhaps it felt good. It was also rather unlikely that he made the connection between Freddy and this sensation, because that would have been far too ethically complicated. Something was happening. That much he knew.
Something very different that he was completely unfamiliar with, in his previous life or his current eternal one.
Freddy, noticing that Jason was no longer trying to fight against him, let the clawed hand fall back downwards, finally resting on one of his large shoulders. Jason hissed as best he could through his mask in an effort to voice his particular feelings on what was currently happening.
Freddy sneered at him and spoke with his familiar sarcastic tone. "Aww, I bet you say that to everyone you meet."
Let's speed things up a bit.
Jason's breathing became increasingly irregular, heavier and faster to match with Freddy's hand.
Jesus christ, there's a sentence I never ever thought I would write. Sorry, I was doing so well (well being an operative word here), but...okay. I'm okay now.
The hockey-masked killer let himself slump forward, not straining as before but letting his shoulders and neck go limp. Jason always had something of a one-track mind. At the moment, there was only one thing he was focusing on. He struggled to intake enough air through the limited holes of his mask while Freddy smirked at him in a self-satisfied way. His gravelly voice sounded infinitely amused and domineering.
"Yeah, y'like that, don't ya, #%&#^?"
Jason's response was a very long, drawn-out shaky moan, which was probably the most vocal thing he had emitted in some time. His entire body trembled as he shut his eyes helplessly. The chains that held his feet down clanked against the grating as his legs jerked in physical response.
Freddy watched his body shake against his bonds and in response, dug his claws deep into Jason's chest. The masked man's eyes snapped open and he instinctively tried to reach forward again, forgetting that his arms were tied. Freddy watched his reaction with another sadistic smile, watching as blood again began to drip down Jason's broad chest. Whatever pleasure Jason had been experiencing, if it had been pleasure, was quickly changed to familiar rage.
Freddy raked his claws downward, digging new scars over older ones, as he pushed him back with his now-unoccupied hand. Jason was forced backwards, unable to find any purchase to fight against him. The nebulous world around him kept changing against him, the chains that so firmly held him in place before now shifting for whatever new position he was being moved to.
His arms were still pinned above his head, although he was quickly changing from a vertical to a horizontal alignment. Jason writhed angrily, disliking this change in perspective, but again, the chains weren't exactly bound by the laws of physics.
The incessant clinking of chains moving and shifting, rearranging and refastening around different pipes, and gratings. Unable to escape them, they moved his limbs against his will, moving his legs upwards.
Ahgaghah. Agh. Aaaaaaaaagh. Sorry. Sorry. I'm under control now.
Jason arched his back as if that would help him somehow, breathing heavily and thrashing much to Freddy's amusement. The burned man stood and watched him, still positioned between his legs.
OW ow ow
Clicking his blood-stained claws together, Freddy looked down at Jason with his typical smirk, enjoying the fact that for once he was looking down rather than looking up.
"Well, $%#@^, you seem a little...'tied up' at the moment..."
He leaned over him predatorily, observing his pointless struggles for a moment before kneeling abruptly and digging his claws back into their previous grooves, watching as Jason jerked sharply at the sudden pain, breath hissing through his mask.
"Funny how that works, doesn't it?" Freddy leaned in close and stared directly into Jason's narrowed eyes, enjoying himself all too much.
Ah, power. The ability to change his surroundings and himself, if he so chose. Considering how small Freddy was compared to Jason, perhaps it wouldn't have hurt as much otherwise. But with the entire world under his control, Freddy could alter his own body as much as he wanted. Increase or decrease size, if he so desired.
I'm sure everyone knows where I'm going with this. I just want to tell you to run away right now. Run. Tell my family I loved them.
Now both of them were bereft of clothing, Freddy smiling evilly at the thought of the events that would very shortly ensue. Jason stared at him, now confused as the slashes on his chest continued to bleed. The burns on Freddy's face continued down his entire lanky body seamlessly, only his hands still obscured with his gloves and his tattered fedora on his head. The only reason that Jason probably noticed this was because Freddy was directly in his line of vision and was rather commanding his attention at the moment.
Freddy placed the blades against one of Jason's shoulders, waited for a moment, then
OH GOD. Sorry. Help me. Oh my god. I can't believe this. I don't...no, I CAN. I CAN do this. FOR THE CHILDREN. FOR THE CHILDREN!
He wanted to cause pain and he definitely succeeded. He tore into him unexpectedly, dragging his claws downwards as he did so to create two intense focal points of pain at once. Jason rocked back with a tortured gasp that was a blend of shock, confusion, and pain.
As Jason's scarred chest heaved as he tried to comprehend what had happened, Freddy couldn't resist laughing at his utter confusion. He cocked his head in mock-sympathy. "Oh, did that hurt?"
Jason again tried to fight his way free, but this only prompted more sadistic laughter. Freddy watched this for a few moments before turning his attention to some of the scars on Jason's chest in an almost bored way. He slid the tip of one of his claws beneath one of the stitches that held him together and cleanly severed it, opening yet another bleeding wound. Jason strained against him, ironically pulling more of the loosened stitches free in the process.
Freddy thrust into him again, prompting a pained hiss in response and the clinking of chains. The sound of pain and the sensation of blood were incredibly satisfying and somehow exhiliarating.
Suffice it to say that if Jason was confused at sexual activity before, this was an entirely new level of mind-boggling incomprehensibilility.
And I'm going to Hell. I'd just like to mention that here, in case you didn't think I was aware of that. Because I am. This will be my ticket.
I have no idea how I could get back into the groove at this point. If you could call writing really, really wrong porn a groove. What's wrong with me. Okay, back to work.
Jason was still in quite a lot of pain, but eventually he would tune it out and it would fade. That's how it worked with him and what enabled him to keep moving after whoever it was he was killing threw whatever it was that was maiming at him. So pain had never been a permanent thing for him. Although he was in a great deal of pain from various sources at the moment, the main concern on Jason's mind was WHAT ON EARTH WAS GOING ON?!
Considering that the only way that Jason had to indicate that he was in pain were various hissing or gasping noises, it may have slipped Freddy's notice that the initial pain may have been fading. So while Freddy may have been gleefully banging away with the intent to injure, Jason was still trying to understand what was going on.
So as he rocked back and forth, suspended by the ever-present chains, Jason tried to connect what was happening with what he was seeing. Although he did connect the initial pain with his current tormentor, the sensations after the pain began to fade he couldn't. Simply put, Jason could not truly comprehend the idea of something both providing pain AND pleasure, particularly from a source he was not fond of. Things always got over-simplified.
Although, after the pain had faded...this was kind of interesting.
Occasionally, if Jason was too quiet, Freddy would make a few cursory slashes with his claws to get his attention, which were rewarded with the feeble sounds of pain that he desired. But after some time, the gasps that Freddy had previously associated with Jason being in pain now had a slightly different motivation. As Jason shut his eyes, simplifying what was happening into meaningless pleasure, he continued to breathe heavily and loudly, deciding that whatever was happening was beyond him and to just go with it.
Oh my god, this is two text files long. No porn fic should be this long. Ever. I'm sorry.
"Don't close your eyes on me, $%#@^!" Freddy growled at him, the tips of his blades digging menacingly into the masked killer's neck. Jason obligingly did open his eyes, although he only stared at Freddy in confusion. He was not the quickest on switching focus from one thing to another and seeing Freddy accompanied with the current sensation was just confusing again. Just when things had started making sense, too. Now he was vaguely annoyed.
"That's it, pay attention."
Jason stared at him mutely as the blades again cut into his flesh, marking out new paths down already bloodied skin. He hissed again in response, prompting a satisified smile. The pain faded quickly as it was replaced by the previous feeling that he didn't have a real name for. It involved what Freddy was doing, but he didn't even really understand what that was.
The claws dug deeper then they ever had before as Freddy closed his eyes and groaned, apparently concentrating on something. The flaring pain in his shoulder overwhelmed anything else that was going on at that moment, and he gave a throaty kind of cough to indicate his displeasure at what was happening. Freddy pulled his claws out with a moist "squelch" kind of noise and pulled back and away from him. His clothes reappeared as quickly as they had vanished and he adjusted his hat almost self-consciously.
"Well, that was fun." Freddy shrugged carelessly as he stood up. Jason watched him move away with the same sense of confusion as before. He also felt somewhat cheated, although he was not sure why. He stared down at Jason who was still bound in the same position as before, bleeding rather heavily from several different places. "Not the best I've ever had, but..." He smirked at Jason as if the masked killer would understand anything he was saying. "I wasn't expecting much."
Jason inclined his head at him as if that would prompt the burnt man to explain himself further or in a clearer way. As it was, he didn't understand anything he was talking about. Which was probably for the best, considering.
There was a pause as Freddy inspected his bloodied blades as if looking for something. As Jason tried, again, to break free, the clinking of the chains caught his attention again. Freddy watched him attempt to escape with the same cruel amusement as before, amazed that he still hadn't realized that it was useless. Freddy snapped his fingers with an annoyed sigh and Jason's tattered clothes returned to him, although he was still in a rather compromising position. "Fine, you look better with clothes anyway."
The world fuzzed for a second, then returned back to clarity. Freddy noted this with some measure of surprise, which was something else that Jason was not clear on.
He strained his muscles and, remarkably, the chains that held his hands upwards snapped.
"No! You're not supposed to wake up yet! I'm not finished! No!" Freddy shouted. Jason stared at his hands, each trailing a broken chain and pulled his legs free just as Freddy turned around. Rather then being frightened at Jason being free, he seemed outraged that Jason was standing and facing him at all.
Jason grabbed his shoulders.
And then he woke up.
Jason woke up in his familiar waterlogged house, feeling rather dizzy and somewhat achey. He was holding something.
"You #$^#&ER!" The shrill cry of rage was what woke him up fully. Jason sat upwards to find the familiar irate and severely burnt man sitting in his lap. "I can't #%&#ING BELIEVE THIS-"
Jason quickly reached out and grabbed Freddy's clawed hand before it could reach for him, then pushed him down roughly. Without the advantage of his controlled dreamworld, the smaller man was very easily subdued. Although he was not particularly happy about the situation.
Freddy continued to scream random obscenities and insults as Jason stared down at him, holding both of his arms down almost without any effort. He strained his thin arms, but he had absolutely no use in this situation. Maybe if he had some room to run or dodge or something, but as it was he had been brought to reality at a severe disadvantage.
Hello, irony.
At the moment, with his previous dream tormentor pinned underneath his large body, Jason was trying to decide what to do.
He thought back to what had happened, conveniently ignoring everything that Freddy was currently shouting at him.
He thought back to how he had been restrained, hurt, and, well, the closest word he could find was 'pleasured', in his involuntary dreamworld.
And although Jason was not the best with elaborate, complicated concepts, he did understand revenge.
It was a lovely night in October when Michael Myers decided to pay a visit to his fellow undead serial killer. Both of them were mute and wore masks, but its surprising how much you can learn from hand gestures and crude pictures. At any rate, Michael and Jason were rather good friends and Michael tended to visit him around his most active month, October.
When he came to the door, Jason greeted him with a customary nod, and Michael nodded in response.
"Who the #$#^ is it, $%&#&?" A rough, annoyed voice came from behind the large hockey-masked killer, and Michael looked at his friend in confusion. Jason raised a hand and rubbed the back of his head self-consciously as he was pushed (pushed may not be the most accurate word, he was nudged and decided to move on his own because he was very large, and could not easily be pushed around) out of the way. Jason almost seemed embarassed as the shorter, smaller, lankier burnt man made his way to the front door.
Jason gestured at Freddy as if that explained anything, and Michael stared at him blankly. Then the Halloween slasher noticed that there was a small metal band on one of Jason's fingers.
Freddy stared at Michael in annoyance, then stalked his way back into the ramshackle house, mumbling random obscenities and insults as he went. As he left, there was a glint of a matching band on the base of one of Freddy's claws.
Michael stared at Jason, slightly annoyed. He gestured at him as if to ask, "Why didn't you tell me you got married?"
Jason shrugged and gestured back. "It's a long story..."
(Author's Note: I'm really sorry.
If this hurt you to read as much as it hurt me to write, then I have succeeded in my life.
If I really wanted to, I bet I could have put another porn scene in here. Yeah. Jason's revenge. But seriously, considering how many brain hemorrhages writing this gave me, I didn't want to risk it.
What a cute ending though, eh? EH? Makes all that porn worth it, DOESN'T IT? DOESN'T IT?
My brain hurts. I'm really really sorry. I really am.)
Hey, just in time for Halloween!
