Nothing is ever simple and clean.(closed for Eazy)

[UnseenMaiden]

(This an rp for The Maxx)

She wasn’t entirely sure how long she’d been standing there, staring at where her feet should have been, but where the spawn that was to be her child filled her vision now. The clock had said something close to three when she’d gotten up to eat and pee. Her eyes, chest, and throat hurt like she’d been crying. She was hungry again, but the light of dawn had yet to creep under the crack of her bathroom door. At least, she’d been smart enough to invest in a tankless water heater while getting this place renovated. At least, something she’d done was smart.

The decidedly annoying shift of weight into her ribcage reminded Julie that she wasn’t in the shower at the wee hours of the morning to throw herself a pity party. She was there because stress was bad for the baby and stress was just about the most understated way to explain her mental state at the moment. So the shower was her one chance to reach some kind of zen and let her mind zone out enough to stop her kid from doing backflips in her abdomen so they could both sleep before that inevitable moment where the cord was snipped. Mumbling incoherently, she rubbed a hand over the part that felt like where most of him was. Not much time left and he would be outside of her and prey to a whole host of things she wasn’t sure she could protect him from. SIDS, whooping cough, electrical sockets, pedophiles, heartbreak, and whatever the fuck decided to crawl out of her Outback next.

Mr. Gone said she was healed. Maxx, Dave, said the Outback was a verdant jungle once again. Sarah had been adamant to make her see that her tragedy, her story, was over. This was normal life with mundane horrors, but no one really listened when she tried to explain that she didn’t feel any better. She felt fragile and raw, like expelling the poison had just served to shatter the thing that had been giving her strength to live life for this long. There were no delusions or walls or comforting fog in her memories. Right now, and for the past few days, she remembered everything as crystal clear as if it was yesterday, as clear as if she was there now if she lingered on them too long. You’d think they’d blend after awhile, her various realities, fade off like the dreams that some of them were but they just all piled in her head, reminding her of all the things she didn’t want to know and needed to know.

“Mother fuck I’m not going to get any god damn sleep, am I? You’re damn lucky I’m not willing to risk fetal alcohol syndrome, cause mama needs a drink!”

Even if she did pull some pants on and glare down the clerk at the liquor store, she’d probably only end up in the Outback once she passed out. Sleep tended to live there now. Her dreams filling out the familiar shape of her other self, the Jungle Queen, beautiful and fierce. In the Outback she was a terrifying force to be reckoned with, only approachable by her King and supplicant, Br’er Lapin. In the Outback, she wasn’t scared shitless, with a baby to care for and her best friend gone. In the Outback, there were no bad memories bubbling to the surface and threatening to pull her down with them. It was very tempting to let her mind linger on the thought that she could run away to those sprawling fields now, find that shadow of the Maxx she had once known and make him stay with her. He would adore her, worship her, let her wind her fingers through his fur and scream in furious ecstasy.

Sighing, Julie thumped her head back against the tiled wall. No one in her health classes mentioned how horny pregnant women could be and it figured that it was once she was already knocked up that she decided to be a good girl and not fuck every decently handsome guy that looked her way. It was too easy to let that tactile sensation of lust and fur carry her off into another world, but she was supposed to try and not run away nowadays. It’s why she’d come back to the City after all, why she hadn’t flushed the toilet when Mr. Gone started getting chatty again. It was why she hadn’t made Maxx stay, even though she knew she could have, even though she’d really wanted to. Carefully, she lowered her large form down to the bottom of her shower, getting as close to comfortable as possible so that she could clear her head again. She focused on the mundane, like the ripple of the water before it slipped over the edge and down into the swirling darkness of the drain below. Her eyes closed as, her consciousness began, just a little, to fade. A tune, perhaps some lullaby that her own father had sang to her, drifted along the edges of her thoughts as the warmth of the water coursed over her skin. The baby was settling down now, only his little heartbeat thumping against her fingertips let her know that he was safe inside of her womb.

When her eyes flew open in a panic, she wanted to lie to herself about the reason why for a moment. She wanted to tell herself something comforting, like it was the light of dawn creeping along the floor that had roused her from the warm half-sleep she’d lulled herself, or that she had just realized that not possibly drowning was probably a good thing and sleep was best done in bed. However, there was nothing for it. She’d woken up because she knew where that tune had come from and it wasn’t from her father, but Sarah’s. Sarah’s father had hummed it as he’d shaved in the bathroom underneath the Bulldog Jar Rubber Factory, before he’d started talking to her and trying to tell her things that she didn’t want to hear, before he’d made her another one of his victims.

She could feel him touching her again, fingers bruising her arms as they’re pulled roughly against her back, breath smelling faintly of mint as it coasts down to places that should have been covered if the costume had actually fit her, something akin to panic that threatened to seat in her chest if she even dared to let on that he was getting to her.

“Now.. where was I?”

 

[Eazy]

“Where, indeed.”

The voice was very familiar to Julie by now, as the man in question resumed humming that catchy tune which he’d seemed to enjoy so thoroughly while studying himself in the bathroom mirror. If Julie’s eyes were to glance toward the direction of the voice, she would see the man who she now knew to be Sarah’s father, dressed only within a bathrobe like he was on the night she beheaded him, as he took the time to shave off a few unwanted hair from his face. Not that it mattered much, since even if it did keep his dark, bristly beard somewhat maintainable, it still had a rather wild and unkempt look to itself which ran in stark contrast to his bald head.

If the blonde looked around the rest of the bathroom, she would find that her own tub had remained the exact same as what she had in her own apartment, while the rest of it was an odd amalgamation of both her own bathroom and that of the one found beneath the Bulldog Jar Rubber Factory. Atop of that, while not as prominent as it often was when running while with Maxx, there were traces of leaves, vines and other wildlife seeping through the walls. Taking the place of dirt, grime or any other imperfection found within either of the respective rooms which combined to make up this setting. It left little doubt of this being a unique, previously unexplored part of her own Outback.

“I must admit, you are rather full of surprises, Julie. Even when I believe I have a full enough grasp of what makes you tick, you continue to throw me for the proverbial loop.”

The apparently reforming villain and serial rapist had a physique that few would conventionally find ideal in themselves or their partners, with a lanky body, save for his gut, which had a spattering of sections with a ‘generous’ display of body hair. His fingers moving the blade carefully along his chin, displaying no marks of the stitching that was done to return his head to its rightful place in the real world, as his intense eyes gazed over at the pregnant woman sitting within the tub of water through the reflection in the cracked mirror.

“By the way, I feel congratulations on the continued self control in favor of protecting your child’s health. You’d be surprised at how many mothers in similar states of distress would fail with such a responsibility.”

There was a rare hint of remorse within his echoing voice at that, as the man had both done his share of studying about such cases and sadly walked through others Outbacks which, while generally boring, did give him the occasional glimpse of how low a person can sink. Perhaps that was part of why, atop of their past connection through her parents, Gone had continuously returned to Julie’s own Outback so regularly. For all of the fucked up shit that the woman had going on in her own life, she had constantly shown herself to be far stronger then she realized. Yet even she needed the occasional nudge in the right direction, which the man presently washing the shaving soap off of his face in the sink was willing to do in his own admittedly twisted ways.

“I had hoped to focus my efforts from here on out solely on fixing my own life and then trying to mend things bit by bit with Sarah. But it seems that you have need of… something, from me, now don’t you?”

His voice dipped, albeit for a brief moment, into the darkly breathy tone which he’d used when intimidating his past victims. Not that it worked nearly as effectively on Julie the last time they met in such a way, but it served in further displaying that he’d known what she was thinking of while soaking within that tub. Drying his face with a hand towel, the man turned to face the woman, who may or may not have started to make her way out of the water by now. Without another word, the man slowly closed the gap between them, although there seemed to be no sense of menace or even attempted menace to his step, as he grabbed a couple of extra towels and draped them over the wet tiles before offering his hand.

“The floor is rather slippery and they do say most accidents happen within the home.”

The hand remained outstretch, awaiting for her to either take it or not. The man who had both terrorized and helped her in the past standing by patiently, as in the background the door leading toward what should be her bedroom began to open on its own, before stopping about halfway. From where they were, it was impossible to make out what was on the other side, as pitch black darkness was all which could be seen through the half-open door frame, almost like it was still waiting to be filled in by whatever her subconscious may eventually choose.

 

[UnseenMaiden]

The ghost of panic still fluttered in her chest as she watched him so perfectly echo her memories. The sounds of a straight razor running over a stubbled chin were probably never going to be particularly comforting to her. Though she supposed this part was mostly his memory as she’d been unable to really see him from her limited vantage point at the time, being bound by a ridiculous number of leather straps as she had been. If Freud was to be believed, Mr. Gone there obviously could lump his mother in with the issues he had with women, because, judging by a majority of this bathroom’s décor, the cow udders definitely represented how often he jerked himself off as a teen while thinking of lapping up good ol’ mummy’s milk. That old familiar panic was what kept her from voicing such observations of her nightly visitor, though.

She couldn’t manage to talk so she was stuck with listening. What he had to say wasn’t exactly new. It was her fault that he was here, invading her personal space. Sure she was just the perfect fucking image of fertile femininity, Panagia Madonna, whore and nurturer all in one convenient package, but that it more or less her fault all the same. So sorry you had other plans you creep, because, wouldn’t you know it, there are other secrets little Julie doesn’t want you to tell to her.

By degrees, her old mask of callous anger fell into place as he blathered on. She was tired, hungry, half-naked(again), and really lacked the patience to put up with his shit right now. So she ignored his offered hand as she stepped over the side of the tub and on to the suspiciously soaked towels on the floor, just like she attempted to ignore the rich earthy smells of loam and the greenery that stood out against the bathroom tile like some ridiculous nod to the technicolor that was Oz after Dorothy man-slaughtered her way over from drab Kansas. She grabbed one of the much dryer towels off of a nearby counter, not hurrying in an attempt to seem as if she cared nothing at all about where his gaze may or may not linger, and wrapped it around her damp skin and panties. It was the fit that made her look down. It wrapped completely around her, an event that hadn’t been possible these past few months. Emblazoned on the fabric was an image of the outfit she’d woken up in almost a year ago, pepto bismol pink with poofy white pomp oms on the hips, and it laid over her silhouette like one of those cheesy bikini t-shirts you see on beach going tourist to bloated to wear what they really want to be seen wearing. For the first time in this weirdly shared walkabout she looked up at her former kidnapper and raised an eyebrow.

“Cute. Next you’ll be telling me how this is all some back slide in time so you could really relive that first decapitation.”

She didn’t wait for his response as she walked through the ominously dark door way, the slightly dampened blade she had palmed in her hand a moment lent a comforting weight to her parting words. Unfortunately that newly gained confidence ebbed away some feet into the room that had lain in shadow before her eyes adjusted. She knew this room, every nook and cranny, and this time she couldn’t blame her thudding heartbeat on Gone’s past actions as a creeper. Her parent’s bedroom was definitely the possession of her own fucked up psyche, populated by every singular decade of memories gathered there culminating in a cluster fuck comfort and bitter anguish that all clamored for her undivided attention.

 

[Eazy]

Gone couldn’t keep from letting out an amused, yet at the same time seemingly annoyed grunt when she ignored his offered hand. To be expected of such a stubborn woman, especially given their past encounters and his failed initial attempt at making her confront those deep rooted problems. A part of him had hoped that this next attempt would go a bit smoother if shown s touch more... civility. But seeing her defiance had been an oddly welcomed sight. A sight perhaps almost as welcomed as that of her half naked body, which still maintained much of its appeal while months deep into her pregnancy.

“No, I’d rather prefer if we gloss over any potential callbacks to that chapter of our shared history.” Gone replied; his previously offered hand moving to his neck and feeling along the phantom stitches which helped to rectify that prior ‘setback’ in the form of his rather unpleasant beheading.

Taking a moment to admire the design on the towel she wrapped around herself, Gone also took note of the blade she palmed, which oddly seemed to bring a hint of a smirk to his bearded face. They could have tried to handle this in numerous different ways, the older male realized, but it seemed she would require a more hands on approach. It was a notion which, despite whatever better intentions there may be behind his actions, spoke to a deep seeded scar of his own which Gone knew may never be fully healed.

Letting her enter the next room on her own, the tall figure slowly followed until he stopped to stand at the doorway while soaking in her reaction. To be honest, Gone hadn’t been entirely certain of what they would find in the next room of Julie’s personal Outback, though he had an inkling. An inkling which resulted in a sense of amusement at seeing the familiar bedroom which belonged to her parents. She was a curious one, the lovely Ms. Winters. But then, that was one of the things which kept drawing him back towards her in recent years.

“Ah, the mommy and daddy room.” The half naked male whispered, now suddenly standing only inches behind the distracted blonde, as his hot breath crept along the curves of her still moist neck and shoulders, “What a fitting location, filled with so many items of nostalgic imagery, for what is to come next.”

The older male then waited for Julie to turn and face him; whether it be out of an attempt to swipe at him with the blade or to simply get away of having him creeping behind her. The moment she did, however, Gone acted quickly in applying a surprisingly firm push to the center of her chest. The push itself may not have been enough to topple Julie over onto the bed behind her, but the sudden appearance of familiar white hands grabbing at her legs from under her parents bed to further trip her up would serve to do the trick. Similarly, the moment she toppled back onto the so very familiar feeling mattress, she’d find that other white Isz hands were waiting to grab a hold of her wrists from the corners of the bed; making for a rather twisted form of a restraint in an already twisted scenario. At the same time, those same who tripped her up were quick to grab at her ankles, with each of them being supported by the help of others peeking out from under the bed to latch onto their companions lower bodies and assist in keeping the blonde from easily pulling away.

“There. Isn’t it so much better for a woman in your condition to take the weight off your feet?” The almost towering figure suggested with an undertone of cockiness beneath his largely nonchalant voice, as he stretched out a hand to begin brushing his coarse fingers along the outside of her left leg, “I never could understand why so many people can’t seem to appreciate the beauty of an expecting mother. There are few things in this world so hopeful and frightening at the same time.”

As Gone spoke, his fingers explored along Julie’s leg, starting from around her calf and then inching their way up toward her knee. The searching digits starting to creep their way inward toward her inner thigh as he observed the imperfect beauty of her body. His touch joined by the other hand on her opposite thigh, as both began to slip their way under the towel covering her body, while his own near naked form moved closer between her forcibly parted thighs. The entire time, his eyes gazed over the blonde as his lips curved into a slow, wicked little smirk, as he watched with lurid interest in her reaction.

 

[UnseenMaiden]

Ta-da.

Julie wondered if it held the same place of honor in every kid’s memory. If, perhaps, she wasn’t unique in living in a kind of awed dread at the imaginings of what lay beyond that forbidden door, in the only certainty being that something terrible would happen if you dared breach the boundaries of hallway and parental sanctuary. Maybe all kids had batshit insane control freaks for a mother just like her. In her time working in social services had taught her anything, it was that the evil stepmothers in saccharine fairy tales were far more real than the fifties’ housewife perfectly solving life’s problems with no hidden baggage or agenda of her own to drag down the moral of that week’s episode. A part of her was very certain that at any moment she would hear her mother’s familiar footsteps come padding up behind her, her muscles tensed up as she listened for her cue to run and hide in the closet despite holding no hope that she wouldn’t get caught and punished for trespassing.

“Ah, the mommy and daddy room.What a fitting location, filled with so many items of nostalgic imagery, for what is to come next.”

Instead of her mother it was just Sarah’s creep of a father, a fact she realized a little too late. The moment she had turned in shock, she was already falling, her legs twisted up in half of a sprint as she hit the bed. God, even the creak of box springs was an eerily familiar lullaby dragged up from her childhood. As shaken as she was, she at least the presence of mind not to tumble haphazardly and lose the razor in her clenched fist, even as tons of tiny strong white hands practically exploded from underneath her in a single-minded to keep any amount of her near the edge of the bed stuck in place. She should have expected the damn things. When had Mr. Gone ever been far from his gross black ISZs. Damn room had gotten to her and now all she had was one free appendage and it wasn’t even the one holding the thing she could stab with. Even as she tried figure out how close would have to get for her to get a good punch in this awkward position, she could feel those little hands being joined by little arms in a manic quest to find and contain the free arm she had tucked up against her torso.

“There. Isn’t it so much better for a woman in your condition to take the weight off your feet? I never could understand why so many people can’t seem to appreciate the beauty of an expecting mother. There are few things in this world so hopeful and frightening at the same time.”

She could have won a goddamn Emmy for the withering look she gave the balding man, despite his touch on her bare thigh seriously skeeving her out. Her voice didn’t even shake.

“More mommy fixations? What a classic example of an Oedipus Complex you are. Did her MILF bod make you all tingly in your no-no place? Did you kill your dad too and try to take his place?”

The bastard didn’t even seem to be listening to her. His smile just kept getting wider the farther in his hands crept. It would have been nice to tell her self this was a simple dream. One where her fucked up subconscious had made a dream team with pregnancy hormones and sleep deprivation to bring a scene where she could be alternately punished for her bullshit and rewarded for her thriving libido with rape by a dead man. She’d had worse nightmares and these Isz’s were white which made them hers and not the bastardized versions he had liked to pull out of her head.

Except none of her dreams were simple anymore and all of this, every single god damn mother fucking smell, sight, sound, taste, and touch felt realer than anything she’d had out there in the waking world recently. Mr. Gone was close enough to her that she could smell his aftershave mixing with his rancid breath as it coasted off her collarbone and his hands finally completed their journey to her damp underwear that covered her swollen crotch.

.......

“Come on. I know you want it. I’ve seen you looking at me.”

Julia Winters, young architect on the rise, pushed her friend’s hand away from her thigh. They’d both had just a little too much to drink at the study session turned house party with their classmates. Mr. Turner was bound to be a buzzkill in the morning and she’d just been dreading the notes they hadn’t got to before Stacy had brought wine coolers and the adolescent temptation of spin-the-bottle. However, right now, this moment was even more of a buzzkill.

“Come off it! The whole world practically knows I swing the other way. You are way too drunk if you think I was making eyes at you."

Thankfully, he just sulked up against the car window and took her refusal in sullen silence. She wasn't too drunk to drive, but she was so focused on the mostly deserted streets that she'd almost forgot about their spat when her car door suddenly opened at a stop sign.

"Henry, what are you doing?! It's four in the morning."

He was already out of the car by then, letting in the chilly October air before slamming it shut. He didn't even look at her as he plodded off. She stared at his retreating form for a few minutes, wondering if she should insist he get in. They lived far enough away still to make walking a nuisance, but his place was closer than hers and he wouldn't freeze to death now that spring was in the air. Maybe giving her buddy some space to cool down and sober up was the right thing to do. She'd hate to lose one of the few friends she'd made so far. So she drove on without him, which meant she was alone when she came across the stranded man on the side of the road or more, appropriately, when he saw her driving oh so carefully in the early morning hours and stepped into her path. He seemed genuinely distressed. She was close to home. Dawn's early morning light was already starting to creep in over the treeline. She'd been so fucking stupid back then.

....

"No! I don't want to remember this!"

Her range wasn't exactly what she would've preferred, but she lunged out anyways. It was all just too damn much. She was going to die of a panic attack at this rate. Her heart was thudding so loud she could practically hear it.

 

[Eazy]

The older male had heard everything Julie spat out at him yet remained unhindered by her remarks as his hands found their way to her dampened panties. The moisture from her bath had made the material cling tightly to her sex, but Gone didn’t seem bothered by this as his fingers traced over the feint outline of her lower lips with his coarse fingers. How many women had he taken by force under his current persona? More then he’d care to admit, yet each of their faces remained burned within his memory in a mixture of shameful guilt and enriching imagery. But little miss Julie Winters, the one for whom he’d done all of this for, had been the only one to escape his clutches. At the least, the man had hoped that perhaps her cutting off his head, the head of her would be assailant, would serve a purpose in making her further confront those past demons. It had become evident, however, that she needed a little something more then what he’d managed to do before to push those right buttons in his old friends daughter.

“How long has it been since you’ve let another person touch you like this, Julie? Was your future child’s father the last one? Have you missed the caress of another persons since then?”

His words almost seemed to ooze out from his lips as Gone’s fingers teased over the outline of her sex, before turning to gain a better grip at her waistband and pull the material away enough for the coarse digits to slip beneath the damp material. Regardless to if she felt any smallest sense of arousal over the situation, Julie’s bath had left her wet enough around there for the bald headed male to ease the tips of his digits into her folds, as his palm began to slowly, yet firmly rub against her pussy with a likely unwelcome amount of skill behind that grubby hand. It was around there, as his fingers delved further into the freelance social workers sex, that she began to lash out at both her current assailant and the memory of the man who had torn away so much from her several years prior. It was enough to give a Gone some pause, but not enough for him to break away from that menacing expression as the Isz held her tightly for the corruption in Julie’s Outback.

“Always so quick to try and run away, aren’t you, Julie?! Yet it was your mind which helped to call me here for this little late night visit to your home in the setting of your choosing. Why do you suppose that is?”

While speaking, Gone began to resume his prior actions by working those coarse fingers within the blonde, as his lower body moved in closer until she could feel the hair of his legs brushing along her own inner thighs. Were it not for her baby bump, the woman would perhaps have been able to see the hardening bulge protruding outward into a tent from within his boxers, as his fingers started to move in and out of her slowly by only the first couple of inches. So much of what the villain had done and was doing may have had some twisted sense of good intentions behind them, but there was an undeniable sense of power behind these carnal acts against his victims. A sense of empowering bitterness related to past traumas of his own which had been long since buried since his youth, yet played a key part in twisting him to what he was today, much like every persons highest and lowest moments of their life tended to do despite ones best efforts.

“Perhaps a part of you enjoys the loss of control where it relates to pleasure? You’d never surrender it knowingly, but maybe a dark part of your subconscious craves a reminder of what you felt on that night beneath all of the pain and humiliation you endured? A taste of what you may have felt if you hadn’t cut off my head?”

His actions became increasingly forceful, while not losing a step in the way they toyed with the pinned woman’s body, as his pointer and middle fingers started to thrust a little harder now into Julie’s pussy. That other hand moving to grab hold of the waistband of her panties and begin peeling them downward, which was admittedly no easy task with wet fabric and her own attempted resistance. Seemingly catching onto the invaders intentions, a couple of Isz moved in along the blondes thighs, as their inhuman fingers could be felt joining Gone’s in tugging the material down along her thighs with some effort. Upon succeeding in their task, this allowed the little eyeless creatures a brief view of the man’s fingers as they repeatedly buried themselves knuckles deep into the woman’s folds before scurrying back as they were shooed off with a dismissive wave by the now unoccupied other hand. Somewhat impressively, Gone hadn’t really seemed to miss a beat in his little spiel, as the older male continued with his twisted logic which may or may not have hit closer to the truth then Julie was looking to admit.

“But isn’t this different? After all... what happens in each of our Outbacks is different from the world you accept as reality. So if something... unspeakable, were to happen to you here? Well, that could simply be written off just as easily as a bad little wet dream once the experience was finished with and you found yourself back in your apartment, now couldn’t it?”

There was perhaps some sick truth to that line of thinking. Many people had fantasies of having control taken away from them, even when it came to some of those who were victimized by such acts, but very few would ever wish to see it taken beyond the realm of fantasy. But still there were dreams and subconscious desires. The same type which appeared to allow a seemingly mundane city girl to be a leopard queen in one plane of existence or which granted a platform for a known sexual predator to attempt in finishing what he’d started over a year ago. Who was to say what was real and what wasn’t in this confused world which existed around Ms Winters, as the villain fucked her harder with his fingers, while his free hand moved to rub slowly at the perverse bulge pressing outward from within his boxers.

“It’s not quite the same as if I were really there in person to give you the fuck you so deeply desire, right? So, why don’t you just relax and let old Mr. Gone scratch that itch for you?”

With that, the older male slowly drew his fingers back from between her legs, as he brought the two digits up to his mouth in order to taste her upon them while staring down intensely into her eyes. Sticking the fingers into his mouth by the first couple of inches, Gone ran his tongue over the glistening digits as he took a few moments to savor the taste of the one who got away. Then, drawing the partially cleaned fingers from his mouth, the bearded figure smirked down at Julie as his hands took hold of and worked his boxers down over his by now aching erection. Due once more to her stomach, the woman may not be able to see the rather thick looking cock which now bobbed freely between her attackers legs, but she would be able to feel it as the man slowly pressed that pre cum covered crown along the blondes inner thighs before teasingly rubbing himself against her freshly fingered sex with firm grinding motions.