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Skott jolted awake where he laid. A sharp pain shot from his arm all throughout his body. Breath quickly becoming ragged as he tried to make sense of what was happening at all.
“How are you feeling, Skott?”
A familiar voice ringed through his dazed state. Cold, filled with love teering on obsession.
A cold hand caressed his jaw. Those familiar, red eyes that he'd see day after day were in front of him once again. It was only now that he was able to get a look at what was happening to his arm. Being able to register how this lunatic had stabbed one of those small pocket knives into his wrist.
“What—What the fuck are you... AGH!”
He flinched as the knife was dragged up, the wound in his wrist was slowly starting to part and blood trickled down and out of the wound, falling onto the‐ bedsheets? Beneath the two.
“What do you think I'm doing, Lyndon,”
Reca leaned closer to Skott, getting right up in his face. Inching the blade further through his wrist up to his forearm.
Skott tensed badly, he'd never been called by his actual name by the man before. He sucked in his breath, avoiding any eye contact with Reca to the best of his ability. He had no recollection of how he ever got into a situation like this. His memories of today were a complete blur.
He felt Reca cut through his skin even more, trying his best to not scream. Pitifully whining. The pain was unbearable.
“I–... I don't... know…”
He choked out, unable to regulate his breathing. Vision becoming blurry, the second sensation of tears forming in his eyes wasn't enough to distract him from the situation at all.
Reca put both his hands on each side of Skott's face. Forcing him to stare directly at Reca. To stare at that apathetic expression. One that showed nothing but apathy for the man's emotions, only amusement.
“Ssshh shh shh... don't cry. It's gonna be okay. I know you can endure this,”
His words were sick and twisted. A play on pushing Skott to his breaking point. Moving his hand back to the wound and doing so. Paying no mind to how bloody the sheets beneath his arm were becoming.
All Skott could do was just try and endure the pain. Endure the cold breeze of the air hitting the open flesh. He felt like he was gonna vomit if he stared at how deep the wound Reca was making. Almost feeling the tip of the knife hitting him to the bone. It all was hellish.
He wanted to rip away the small knife Reca was using, take it from him and cut open his back, inflicting the same pain he was feeling onto this lunatic, but there would be no use. Even if the attempt were to be, somewhat, successful, there's a high chance he couldn't feel the pain. Who knows what would happen after a failed murder.
Reca's grip on the blade became harder, free hand finding its way to entwine with Skott's. Finding pleasure in hearing the man trying his best not to scream, and instead groaning in pain. Hearing how shaky and fast his breath grew from just pushing the knife.
“You're doing so well for me, it's what I love so much about you,”
He whispered, fingers squeezing Skott's with the same amount of strength he put into holding the blade. Tone mixed with different layers of carnal obsession and love.
“Being able to endure so much pain, all to please me. It just makes me love you even more than before,”
He continued with his words, mostly being a deep confession that no sane person would ever think of. It was baffling to see this guy, probably, get off to putting Skott through this tremendous amount of pain by his own hands.
“I love you, Skott. I want to keep you all to myself. Body, heart, mind… all of it. I want all of you for myself. Why? Because I want you to know how much I love you...”
This confession was becoming more and more concerning to hear. It was a struggle to comprehend such deranged words.
Reca let go of Skott's hand, moving to wipe away the ongoing streaks of tears that flowed down the man's face. Hand set on supporting his head up.
Both of them locked gazes on each other. One filled with tremendous fear, the other filled with desire.
“Love—me?”
Skott had his own struggles trying to speak, knowing that even just the slightest slip up could result in him screaming his head off. Each word he spoke came through gritted teeth.
“You're... ghhh– splitting my arm—open! Thahhhh—that's... not love,”
He stopped speaking to get his breath back, unwillingly staring away. He didn't dare continue to stare at Reca.
“You're... fhhhuh–! fucking sick...!”
The tension between the two was palpable, only for a muffled screech to be the loudest noise that came from Skott.
Reca pushed the knife through the rest of Skott's arm with as much force as he wanted to use, covering the other's mouth. Without a doubt he knew this would be something that would cause the average person to scream.
The cut Reca had left on him was nasty, blood pulsing out in the same rhythm as his heartbeat. Covering anything nearby with blood.
Reca removed the knife from the wound. Setting it down on the bedsheets that blood seeped into. His hand was bloody, the blade of the knife was covered in blood and skin.
He barely moved away from Skott, barely a few inches to get a look at the wound he left on Skott. Looking back to see the man quietly sobbing and writhing in pain.
“Look at you, I knew you could take it so well,”
He placed his hand over the wound. Slowly moving to touch the inside of the cut. Fingers gently touching every layer of skin in such a sensual matter.
Skott tried to pry his arm away the second he felt Reca's fingers go inside the wound. Growing absolutely disgusted with whatever the man was trying to do. Only to be met with Reca pushing his arm down from inside. Fingers pushing harshly against his muscle and bone. Barely able to let out a scream due to the soreness in his throat.
“Stohh...p. Please…”
He pleaded, barely attempting to just move the other away and find the nearest first aid kit. Doing nothing but just staying there.
“Ph… please… Reca…”
He sobbed out, a shaky hand moving up to wipe his own tears this time around, squeezing his eyes shut. He just wanted all of this to be over. This whole nightmare of a situation to be done and over with.
Reca complied to his pleas, taking his fingers out of the wound. Carefully rubbing around the edges of the cut. Eventually placing his bloodied hand underneath Skott's cheek. Thumb caressing his jawline with hidden tenderness.
Skott slowly opened his eyes, building the courage to stare back at Reca. The only thing keeping him from falling unconscious was the pain that coursed throughout his body.
“Cmon Lyndon, let's get you bandaged up alright?”