Chapter Text
Something had disturbed the monster. He was restless. He was always a bit restless, perhaps. This was a different sort, though. The kind that predestined terrible violence.
Audrey had been in the larder when it happened, one of the few places she was permitted to be without Jason. The small kitchen was nothing fancy, with a short workbench and a wood burning stove. The larder consisted of tinned goods, for the most part. Long-life, preserved foods. What they would do once these stocks run out was anyone’s guess but she doubted the man, as manic as he was, would allow his soulmate to starve. Regardless, it was comforting to prepare. Organise. Gave the woman something to do that was not pace the layout of the cabin. It was private. Peaceful. For a brief time, she could quiet her thoughts and focus on random menial tasks.
Jason had been out that morning, chopping firewood for the stove and the fireplace. Soon the repetitive sound of his work went silent and Audrey knew he had stepped into the woods. He had begun disappearing in small increments. No more than a few minutes at a time, at first - doing god knows what. She would never ask. What the beast got up to within his free time was a mystery she had no interest in solving. Audrey thought it had been an opportunity to escape but when he departed on these secret expeditions, he had taken to tying his unruly mate to the bed with a padlocked chain. It was long enough to reach the breadth of the cabin, just shy of the front door. No amount of pulling or bashing at the chain would sever it. Nothing short of an industrial tool would break the gruesome leash.
So it was there she stood in the larder, sorting the preserved goods with a heavy weight padlocked to her ankle, when Jason burst into the kitchen.
The can of tuna slipped and plummeted to the wood with a hard bang as, in that same moment, Audrey found herself yanked from the pantry. On unsteady feet she stumbled into the kitchen and, ultimately, into Jason’s tight arms.
He was frantic. His chest rose and fell with deep angry breaths, the sound of rushing air hitting the inside of the hockey mask. Twitchy hands skated up and down the woman’s body, as if searching for something. She stood still, all the while. Frozen in place as not to rouse his ire. Never before had Audrey seen him like this. Not since the early days when he had paced that tree-line, anxiously trying to find a way to get at her. It was unusual to see Jason worried, insecure. It made her feel unsettled. Worried for him.
Having found, or not found, whatever it was he was searching for the killer released her. The confrontation was not over however as he reached into the pocket of his thick tartan coat. A meaty hand slammed down on the workbench. For a moment, Audrey thought he was going to finally beat her to death.
Instead, when his hand rose, a silver bell attached to a frayed cut rope remained. She recognised it. Five years ago, running from the killer, Claire’s foot tripped a thin rope and jingled a tiny silver bell, tied to a tree. Jason found them not long after and tore Claire apart. It was a trap, his trap. His way of monitoring the forest for intruders. Someone had cut it.
Audrey scoffed, her earlier empathy forgotten. “I hope you don’t think I had something to do with this? I’ve been chained up like your pet dog all day.”
Jason growled and shook the bell hard in her face, as if attempting to make a point.
“Yeah, someone cut it.” She shrugged. “I don’t know who but I hope they find your ass and throw you into the near pi-”
The mask was ripped off and at the same time Audrey was roughly spun around and bent over the work bench.
“Jason, what the fu-,”
The white tennis skirt was flipped up, immediately followed by two giant fingers sinking to the first knuckle.
Audrey clenched her teeth and slammed her forehead against the surface of the counter.
The proximity to the monster had already begun to work the bond’s intended effect leaving her channel wet, warm and inviting. Still, she was unprepared to take two fingers quite so suddenly. Jason hardly seemed to care, as impatient as he was. There was barely an effort to stretch the tight little hole before the hot head of his cock began to bully its way inside. She clenched down hard, denying entry to the invading appendage.
Audrey grit her teeth and clenched her fists, attempted to focus on something besides the burning pain - his scent, his rumbling growl, the way his boots slid between her bare feet and kicked her legs open wider. The bench had begun to dig into her hips. The beastly hands wrapped tightly around her middle would produce bruises as they forced her to remain in place. Large thumbs pressed down into the middle of her tailbone, making the woman groan softly and arch onto the tips of her toes to avoid the pain.
The tight fit gave an inch before it gave a lot. Suddenly, he slid inside in one smooth push. Audrey’s dry mouth dropped open in a wordless cry as his pants made contact with her bare ass and his balls smacked lightly against her clit. Behind her, Jason shuddered.
There was hardly a moment to become accustomed to the massive intrusion before his hips pulled back, the head nearly slipping out completely. Audrey expected him to slam back in as he often did but, to her utter horror, the beast took his time. Long, slow, deep strokes. Passionate, almost. They struck that spongey spot inside her channel, one languid thrust after another. Each time he rolled his hips back in, he pressed as far forwards as possible – as if trying to slip past the wall of her cervix and rearrange her guts. He may very well, yet. It was heaven.
Against her will, she moaned softly.
Audrey let out an involuntary yelp as those slow firm hips suddenly snapped forwards, as if in response to her vocal indication of pleasure. This was it, she thought to herself. He was going to fuck her like the animal he was.
Jason did not. Again, his thrusts slowed and returned to that deep set roll. The return of the slow, deep strokes made her toes tingle and her belly tighten. Already slick with need, she began to soak the seat of his pants each time the denim made contact with her trembling thighs.
This continued for a short while until, once more with the tip of his cock barely lodged inside her hole, his hips surged forward in a violent shove. Audrey cried out, smacking her balled up fist against the workbench. It ignited lightning through her body – anticipation. This was different. Jason had learnt a new trick, it seemed. Had he been thinking about this? Had he been concocting new ways to stick his dick in her whilst he chopped wood?
The pace thus far had done an excellent job of lighting the fires beneath her belly, tightening her core and pushing the woman on the precipice of ecstasy. So close but not quite there, it teetered on the edge. Over and over again, with each deep press in to the very depths of her convulsing core. Cheek pressed to the bench, Audrey was able to watch as his head tipped back and the muscles in his neck tightened. How human of him.
As if sensing her eyes on his, twin pools of soulless black flickered down to meet her own jade tinted gaze. She hated him. Hated the way her looked at her, hated the way he touched her body. If not for the bond, she would have grabbed the nearest kitchen knife and sunk it deep into his neck.
Jason witnessed a lot of emotion when killing. It was often raw, powerful. The most intense feelings a human can experience came within the moments before they died. Fear, hopelessness, loss – he had seen them a thousand times over. Hate, he recognised well. When Audrey looked up at him with those big wet eyes, he saw her hate.
The pace was too slow. Too soft. Her body had been conditioned to being fucked a certain way by Jason. Fast, mean, rough. This was tender. Intimate. This was all far too indicative of lovers.
The thought made her sick.
Audrey’s head whipped to the side and she locked eyes with the killer.
“Hurry up and fuck me, you loser.”
Jason’s hips stuttered to a stop, mid stroke. A terrible black rage swirled within his eyes. That seemed to be the final straw to whatever game he was playing at. One hand flew up and seized a fistful of hair whilst the other came to wrap tightly around the column of her pale throat. The deep, slow strokes of before were gone – replaced with cruel and brutish thrusts that seemed more so reflective of violence than sex.
This was familiar.
This was what she expected from him. Punishment, rage. This was not sex. They were not committing this carnal act together. No, he was doing it to her. They were not fucking. She was being fucked. With that self-assurance tucked away deep into the darkest corner of her mind, Audrey felt the coil in belly finally snap.
Jason knew the moment she had finished. Her core tightened on him to the point of almost being painful and that hot space between her thighs would attempt to push him out. Her nails scrabbled uselessly at the countertop and her back bowed tight like it would snap. Something in him preened whenever the woman came. Pride reared its ugly head. How many times did a man need to make a woman cum before she would love him, he wondered, as she arched tightly beneath him.
Although Audrey had finished, the pace did not slow. She had riled him, enraged the beast. There was something to be said for the way Jason split her open. Fast, rough, carelessly. If he was interested in getting his partner to finish, it did not show. Yet he did. Or rather, she did. It was nearly impossible to provide guidance with the way he pinned her down each time they came together. Control, he was obsessed with it. Perhaps it was the years of being out of control. Perhaps it was his nature. If it were not for the bond insuring sexual harmony, there was little chance it was possible to finish with that beast rutting so violently into her. The way the head of his dick battered against her cervix, the way his width split her so tightly over him, the way his weight crashed against the back of her thighs and ass. It should have been awful, unpleasant at least. Painful, certainly. It was not. Instead her body welcomed him fully and slicked itself so thoroughly for him. Each time his hands touched her, she thought it to be the wettest she had ever been in her life. No amount of high school fumbling, porn, or masturbation sessions came close to the way Jason’s mere proximity drenched her thighs. It would have been embarrassing if there was an opinion around to worry about. The only other soul infesting the woods was Jason and the demon walked around in a shirt stained with another creature’s blood – animal or otherwise. He was hardly an authority on morality.
The little silver bell rattled noisily on the workbench as she was fucked over it.
It was obvious when the killer began nearing his completion. Those rhythmic hip thrusts became erratic, bruising. His giant hands tightened even further, the skin beneath his fingers turning bone white with pressure. Not a moment later, Jason’s hunched forwards and he slammed himself as deep as possible inside the pliant body beneath him - cockhead pressed tightly to the end of her channel.
Audrey felt that foul intrusion pulse within her as he coated her insides with hot spend.
Finally, content with whatever point he was attempting to make, Jason stepped back. Audrey winced when he slipped from her, the space between her legs throbbing from the rough treatment it had endured.
Normally, Jason liked to cuddle after he finished fucking her dumb. It was a peculiar human side of him that Audrey had not bothered to give much thought. This time was different however. After stepping away, Jason merely snatched the silver bell from the table and stormed out without looking back. It left her feeling empty. Sad.
Audrey was remained where she was, sore and gasping, still bent over the workbench.
“What the fuck?” she hissed to the empty kitchen.
***
There was plenty of time to agonise over the kitchen incident. Jason had disappeared for the entire day – unusual for him as he did not trust her alone for so long. Notably, it was the perfect time to escape however the heavy chain connected to her ankle proved to be the greatest hurdle thus far.
For lunch, she ate a tin of cold beans in the bathtub and thought about the little silver bell. Someone had cut it. Someone had cut it and thrown the beast into a fit of rage that he had promptly came home with and taken out on Audrey.
Psychotic soulmates aside, the turn of events was an interesting one. People in the woods meant potential rescue. If they were smart enough to recognise and disable his traps, they were potentially smart enough to slip past the killer. Not just prey. Audrey’s chances of escape had increased significantly, overnight.
For the first time since her capture, a little glimmer of hope began to spark inside her chest. This nightmare did not have to be forever. She could get out, leave. Never look back.
Almost immediately, the breath of hope was replaced with haunting sadness. She imagined Jason coming home to an empty cabin. Looking for her. Realising she had left him. Sitting alone in the empty bedroom.
Audrey pressed the tin can o her forehead, harshly. The cold metal dug in, chasing away those wretched thoughts.
Get a grip! she thought, furious with herself. She could not let that creature infest her mind. Her feelings. Her emotions.
Jason returned to the cabin not long after sunset, with the presence of mind to feel ashamed. Audrey had been sat on the couch, certainly not waiting for him to come home. When the door opened, she perked up and turned to find the killer had barely taken a step inside.
It was amusing to see creature like Jason embarrassed. Guilty. With his head hung and his massive shoulders dropped low, hands tucked into balls at his side, there was no better term for it. Ashamed. It made her want to comfort him. Soothe him.
The feeling was quickly replaced with disgust as the pungent smell of blood permeated through the living area. Jason lingered sheepishly in the front door. There was something behind him.
Audrey covered her nose with the sleeve of her pink sweater. “Jesus Christ, what is that?”
She peered around him. There, splayed across the porch like some sick offering, a butchered deer. Its leg had notably snapped, no doubt by one of the many steel claw traps he had laid through the woods. Its neck had been slit. The tongue lolled heavily from its mouth, blank eyes sightless and empty. There was something terribly eerie about looking into the eyes of a dead thing Like something had left, leaving only the body. Soulless. Jason’s eyes looked a lot like that.
“Is this … is this some kind of apology?” she demanded, baffled.
Predictably, Jason said nothing. Instead, he turned and began hauling the animal back out to the yard to begin butchering it.
“Dead animals don’t make good apology gifts!” she yelled after his retreating back. “Next time, use your critical thinking skills and get flowers you fucking maniac!”
With that, she slammed the door. Despite her rage, she watched him work from the window. Predictably, Jason was great at skinning an animal and carving it up for consumption. Privately, Audrey thought to herself that he had plenty of practice. The joke was not funny and it weighed heavily on her chest. At the end of it all, Jason was still a killer. Nothing could redeem him. Nothing could change that.
They ate well that night. Audrey went to the bed with a full stomach and an awkwardly apologetic Jason wrapped around her tightly. She preferred him like this. Subdued. Guilty. He should be guilty after all he had done. Not just to her. To everyone.
She thought back to that silver bell. It jingled in her dreams.