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Sway

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The walk through the asylum was long. Painful for you but it was obvious that Eddie was in heaven. He carried you like you were nothing, elated that his arms were wrapped around you, that his fingers dug into your softness. His mouth wasn't exactly smiling, but his eyes were. He was acting like the snake he was. His face resting in constant worry. But you knew this devil wasn't concerned in the slightest. He knew in this game, he was winning. Your stomach turned and tossed whatever water and protein bar was left in it. Your leg swayed back and forth, just useless weight at this point. You wouldn't be surprised if a doctor suggested to chop it off once you got back home... If you got back home. It was a hollowing thought. You may not make it out of Eddy's sanctum alive. He may rear back that ugly personality once he had you within his web, and if that was the case, you already knew what you had to do. Your ammo was limited... But you only needed one shot anyway. A prayer and some metal pressed against the temple, and can only hope you won't have to see what he does with your body afterwards. And if he tried to keep you from going the easy way out, you would claw and bite your way to the nearest sharpest object you could find. You wouldn't allow yourself to die in such a way and the altercation with Frank was still fresh in your mind. You wouldn't be caught off-guard again.

Eddie was in a place all his own. He couldn't help it when he carried his beautiful treasure like this. Bridal style. He had dreamed of a moment like this. He didn't phase him for even a second about the circumstances that led you to be nestled in his arms. He only was overcame with joy as his imagination played games on him again. He could see you in beautiful white gown all his own creation. It took a moment to decide what that gown should look like. He typically loved the frills. The veils and the large ball dresses. But he couldn't see his stunning bride hidden by all that fabric. You deserved something a little understated, only made a sight when you put it on. He could see silk, fitting your form and following only just a tad. He imagined your hair away from your face, leaving your features free of distraction. You would look beautiful no matter the dress, but his daydreaming seems like the only way you would be given justice. For your beauty and your kindness. For your love. He could look down on your face and see only greatness. He isn't sure if he has ever felt like this before, and it was scary. In fact, he imagined this would be the scariest thing he would ever have to face. Being in love. He wonders if this will end like it always does. Treachery and ugly betrayal. He hopes not. He isn't sure if he had the strength to go through that again.

You hear inmates mumbling and whispering in the darkness, but no one was visible. They wouldn't come out into the hallway, but they couldn't help their curiosity. The further he walked down the corridors, the worst the stench of death. This was the story of an institution that was left to become a slum. You think of the names of other health care facilities that this occured to. The 70s. The 60s. The 40s. But in the 2000s? There was absolutely no excuse. It was a disgusting display of power. To make their money and have no one benefit from it. It left a horrible taste in your mouth. Bastards.

Eddie suddenly side stepped into a quiet dark room and kneeled down quickly. His arms instinctively wrapped over you, protecting you and keeping you safe. "What--?" A large finger went to press over your lips before moving in the darkness to touch your ear. You stayed silent, only moving slightly so that his elbow wasn't crushing your torn up limb before leaning over slightly and listening. At first the only thing you hear is Eddie's heart pounding behind his shirt. With his leaning over you, sheltering you, and keeping you close, that beat was almost deafening in the heavy silence. You close your eyes in concentration, picking up all the sounds of the wing you both were in. Floors creaking. A pipe is leaking somewhere far off. Someone had padding feet scurry across the floor. Everyone was taking cover. You wonder what was coming that had them so scared. Then you hear it.

Thump

Screaming. Ripping. Gushing. A splash of blood could be heard reddening the doorway you and Eddie were hidden behind. You feel small flecks of something hit your cheeks and you unintentionally clinged to Eddie tighter in the process. In the moment that he adored how you held on to him in safety, for him to be your pillar of strength and protection, it was gone as you carefully wiggled out of his grasp to go to the doorway. His hands remained on you, making sure he could pull you back if you were seen. You eyes peeked out, and you saw him.

Chris Walker.

Or what was left of him anyway. You blinked in surprise. Walker definitely died in the outbreak. You saw him get torn into tiny pieces and flung into a wall multiple times. You saw it all on camera so how in God's green earth is he walking then? You inspected him closely, eyeing every detail you could. His skin was an uneven mix of irritated pinks, pale whites, dirty stained brown, and red. So much red. Blood, if you could hazard a guess. Lots of blood. The chains weighed heavy on his wrists. The mutilation was still present on his flesh. He looked the same yet still all wrong. He should be dead. Patient had seemed to catch his eyesight before which explained the noise you both had heard. Obvious by that fact that a headless corpse laid in the middle of the floor. You back up slowly as the giant man continued to look around for something. You moved so that you were sitting on the floor next to your companion and you could see the unease on Eddie's face as he looked out the doorway, lost in thought. Your hand went to his shoulder and you gave it a gentle shake. "Hey," you whispered softly. He turned to look at you, those blue eyes looking dazed. "We need to leave." He nodded obediently and scooped you back up in his arms, a silent wolf. There weren't any scoffs from the heel of his shoe on the tile floor. Not even an extension of breath reaching out into the pungent air. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he gracefully pulled you back up into a bridal carry. He looked around before seeing a door that led to a lab. The only reason he knew it was such is because there was a harsh LED light flickering on and off and briefly illuminating the dirt coated walls. He opened the door silently, turning the knob carefully and then caught the door with the tip of his foot. The two of you entered the room and immediately Eddie ducked below the glass observation wall as he felt the footsteps become closer to you both. You gave a small cry as his elbow went directly into your injured leg, covering your mouth soon afterwards. You both remained completely silent. You kept your hands over your mouth as tears fell from your eyes. Goddamn did that fuckin hurt. your brain screamed in agony but you resisted the noises. Those thumping footsteps approached, then silence. It didn't take a genius to tell that Walker was inspecting everything. Taking it all in. Looking for a head to snatch. For a neck to break. You take your hand away from your lips and gently push at his elbow, silently begging him to move it. But he didn't. His eyes were still dazed, almost seeming empty. You tried to wiggle out of his grasp but his hold only tightened in response. "Eddie," you whispered harshly, thrashing in his grasp.

"You stay right here and do not move, my little lamb. Do. Not. Move." His own voice was harsh, nit as quiet as yours, and filled with several more levels of venom than you had heard from him the entire time in the asylum. Your mouth opened to argue, but you bite your lips together tightly. You stared into his eyes, eyebrows narrowed in anger and confusion, cheeks stained with tears as the light flickered on, off, and then on once again. His own eyes were on fire, something close to fury in those spooky blue irises. It was a stand off.

"You're hurting my leg, will you take your elbow off it." It was a command. A fierce, unafraid, furious demand. "Please." The large man searched your eyes before looking down at your wounded limb. He waited a second, mind obviously turning over thought, before he slowly lifted his arm up and you visibly relaxed. "Thank you."

"I'm-I'm sorry, my love. I was worried you were trying to use Big Piggy as a distraction. To get away from... Me." His words were self-conscious and shy, his eyes falling from yours to look at your leg. You gave his large shoulder a pat, trying to cool the fire of your anger down at the same time.

"It's okay, Eddie." Your words were simple, but it seemed to have meant the world to him. He set you down on the floor, looking to the side to see your leg was gushing blood through your clothing. You follow his gaze and sigh quietly. "Well, there's no other door out. We might as well relax until he's gone." You whispered gently, turning your body to rest against the wall. You looked at Eddie, who was still staring at your leg. Maybe it was worry, but that's not what it looked like. It looked like sadism. Looked like he was happy he had caused you to bleed. "Want to help me get this handled?" His head snapped up, confusion evident on his face. It would be good to turn that focus he had to something positive instead of something so fuckin creepy. You put your hand out and beckoned him to hand your backpack to you. He shrugged it off and laid the strap onto your palm. Pulling the heavy bag to you, you opened it and searched inside. You pulled out the same first aid kit that you had used to bandage his fingers. After this, you pulled out the baby wipes. Then finally a small clear bottle. It was maybe the size of canteen, flat like a flask, but the clear plastic allowed him to see the liquid sloshing inside. You pushed the baby wipes and first aid in his direction, him gathering the objects in his lap. You kept the bottle to yourself, shaking hands turning the cap quickly, flicking it off and watching it slide across the floor. You took a large drink, eyes closing as the alcohol slid down your throat and into your stomach. Pulling the bottle away from your mouth, you set it carefully on the ground. Your eyes looked at his, trying to gauge him. God, this was an awful idea. You sighed loudly, eyes going down to your lap. "Do you mind, um, just looking away for a second?" The confusion became heavier on his face. "So I can take my pants off..."

The words took his very breath away. To see your perfection even more in depth? How could he saw no? His head turned and his eyes closed, his heart fluttering in his chest. His treasure's modesty made his heart surge with vile intentions, and he knew that, but it couldn't help but beat with desire for her. To feel her. To fill her. His chest rose and fell rapidly, heart taking over his very thoughts. Love clouded his mind, but he couldn't complain. His had to move his arm to cover his eyes. To refuse the want to look. He needed willpower, now more than ever.

"You're okay," your voice hummed quietly, and Eddie turned back. His movement was slow, deliberate. Predatory. It made your stomach hurt. Your legs were free of your dark clothing, leaving bruised, scarred, bloodied flesh visible to his hungry eyes. You had stuffed your pants to be in front of your underwear, not wanting to give this fucking maniac anymore access to your body then he needed. Your cheeks and neck were darkened with embarrassment, stained with fresh tears from the pain of pulling the fabric from the gash. It had mangled itself into the cut, leaving a sickening ripping feeling beyond when you had to pull it out. Your forehead was beaded with sweat, visible exhaustion after having to pull your pants off. You looked incredibly beautiful, and his face is in quiet shock. You have gifted him, once again, with yourself. He blinked and his aura turned from needy, creepy love to intense helpfulness in only seconds flat.

"What can I do for you, darling? Anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask," he answered in a rushed and excited whisper of his own. Of course you would, you creepy ass. The inner statement brought a small smirk to your lips but you kept it hidden as you answered him.

"Clean your hands off with the wipes, as best you can."

He obeyed eagerly, removing his gloves and cleaning his fingers with detailed attention. The pads, the tips, and under the fingernails were all scrubbed vigorously, the only thing remaining stained with your blood was the bandages you had given him the night before. While you did this, you raised the bottle and took a heavy sip. "After you're done with that, I need you to wipe off the blood and dirt so I can see what we're working with. I'd do it, but my hands are shaking really bad," you asked, tongue licking over your lips and taking in the last of the liquor on your lips before putting your hand out to him. "And let me have one of your gloves, please." He handed you his glove without much thought, eyes focused on your bare leg.

"Oh darling," he breathed out, "Thank you for trusting me with something so precious." You hummed in response as he began pulling out a couple of the baby wipes and approaching your leg with smooth movements. You put the glove in your mouth, teeth biting into it roughly. You closed your eyes, letting out a slow breath through your nose when you feel the first touch of the wet cloth against your bitter wound. The first few swipes were delicate. Soft, sore, but manageable. There was warmth in the soft caresses. Gentle care. Eddie was enraptured in this action. His attention has never been so focused. Your upper thigh was gorgeous. Flesh smooth as granite and scarred like leather all at once. And the feeling of his fingertips running against your chilled skin sent electricity up his spine. While the gash was ugly and mean, your beautiful legs made it all seem so miniscule. Your gash only proved to enhance his protective nature, and nurture his growing affection all at once. However, as he got closer to your knee, he watched as your muscle flexed and twitched as hot iron searing pain radiated through you.

Your teeth bite down on his glove, doing your best to stay quiet. Tears streamed down you cheeks and your leg wouldn't stop twitching as Eddie got closer and closer to your knee cap. Frank's weapon of choice, that damned bone saw, must have completely ripped apart cartilage, ligaments, and muscle that made the knee itself work, as well as may have split the entire disk that kept it together in half. Finally Eddie made it to the bend and pressed down on the bloodied stained skin. Your eyes were closed, but somehow you saw a bright white light of pain travel through your across your pupils. You bit down on the leather even harder as agony breathed out your nose in pain-filled puffs. And Eddie, of course, was taking his dear sweet time cleaning your leg. Taking every second like an hour, and you were already regretting even letting him touch you, let alone 'help' you. You could see it. Him in his own head, imagining.

And he was. He could see it all so clearly. That silky dress, sparkling perfect white against your beautiful complexion. The way it would bunch up around your lap, cloth over your most precious place. But his full attention wouldn't be there, but to the garter he was sliding off your shapely leg. A symbol. It was his. You were his. The wipe turned into that perfectly designed lace, the soft snap of the elastic that kept the garter belt in place on your soft thigh. However, his eyes flickered over to your other thigh. His eyes danced over more evidence of a life lived before he ever came into your life. Old shiny scars. Dips and scrapes that have healed and damaged your skin. But it wasn't those that had captured his attention so intently. "You've got tattoos?" His hand slowly pulled away, tossing the stained cloth away. You relaxed for a moment, eyes fluttering open and looking around. You removed the the glove before you stared into his eyes. They were clouded with several emotions. Mostly anger. Disappointment.

"One. Yes."

"Why would you desecrate perfection?"

"I considered it... An enhancement to the flawed." You had to take a deep inhale between the words, body still tensed, spin to toes, from the pain you had just endured. His eyes narrow for a moment, tongue clicking against the back of his teeth. His eyes looked down, head turning away as he grabbed a new wipe and clenched it in between his large fingers. You quickly put the glove back in between your teeth as he approached your leg with no warning. He began to scrub away the blood much harsher then before. Your eyes continued to streak with tears, fingernails skidding against the broken tile on the floor. The touch was rough like sand paper and it felt like you were being ripped open all over again. Your eyes twitched, face twisted in agony.

"I don't understand why you would do such a horrible thing, darling! How could you defile yourself?" He hissed, voice still a whisper but tone was vicious. His hand tore past your wound, causing the cut to start bleeding once again. You yelped in pain, glove dropping from your mouth. In a complete reaction, instincts taking over, the foot on your good leg raised, knee bending, pulling back, and kicking his chest roughly. He fell backwards slightly, going from his knees to his bottom, sliding back a few inches. You breathed out, the exhale shaky and frightened. There was heavy silence hanging over the two of you, where you lowered your leg and nothing else. His face took on the image of a mad man, face void of emotion, mouth turned downward into slight frown. His typically slicked black hair was hanging around his face. Your chest was heaving as you stared at him. You don't know what to say. Didn't know what to do.

"Eddie..." Your words were nothing more than a breathy sigh. A whisper of a woman who feared for her life. You had done the one thing you weren't supposed to do.

Rejection.

His head snapped to look at you fully, face twisted suddenly in ugly rage. His defined nose scrunched close to his cheeks, lips pulled back to bare his teeth. He looked like a rabid dog, face holding hatred. The pause in the very air itself was suffocating. "You ungrateful whore!" His thunderous voice echoed the lab with fury and malice.

You didn't know what to do. You didn't know what to say. So it surprised even you when your legs scrambled underneath you.

And you ran.