Last Breath. The Ghostface Story.
Part 2/? ongoing
Pairings: Ghostface x female original character
Word count: 2,340
Warning: smut (18+), violence, blood kink, gore, suicide, knife kink. (Not just for this part, but for the whole book.)
A/N: Thank you so much for the positive feedback on the first part of my story! Here is part 2, a much longer, dirtier chapter. (This is unedited, if there are spelling/grammar errors please bare with me) If you enjoy please like/share/follow! :) Enjoy :)
"Ghostface." She whispers.
He groans lightly. "I like the way you say my name." He steps forwards into her, causing her to naturally step backwards. Still holding onto her arm, he kicks the knife she had dropped out of the way, but most importantly out of her reach.
Ghostface forcefully pushes Arabella onto her back, her elbows making impact with the ground as she holds her self up slightly, trying to crawl away from him. "You know, technology is crazy." He begins speaking to her. "I was prepared to have to use a voice moderator, you know the one. Little box thing, very inconvenient when trying to chase and slash up a victim." He stood in front of her, playing with a knife in his hands. Ara couldn't take her eyes off him. She was terrified, yet so excited. What the fuck is happening.
"This mask, this costume actually, is so practical. It moderates my voice automatically." She can't see his face, but she could tell he would be smiling wickedly right now. Something about the tone of his voice makes him sound proud.
Arabella didn't say anything. Her chest was heaving, moving up and down rapidly as she kept eye contact with the ghoulish mask.
He suddenly bends down in front of her, the knife now inches away from her face, but she doesn't flinch. "You brave little thing. I would've thought you'd be a bit more hassle than this." She swallows a lump in her throat as he speaks to her. She can almost feel his hot breath on her face.
"You're not going to kill me. You're here to scare me." Arabella's voice sounds steadier than expected. She sits up, inching herself closer to the knife. He doesn't respond, just keeps the knife right there, against her neck now. "I mean, that's what you do. No? You scare the victims first. I go to the police, create attraction, you get media coverage, the police don't do their job properly and then I die." Her confidence at a high right now and he notices. God, she's so beautiful. His dark mind lets him think about her in that way, for a split second.
A low chuckle escapes from the mask as she narrows her eyes. "You think you have me all figured out, huh?" The moderated voice sends shivers down her spine, but she can't help but feel excitement in her core. "Well, sweetheart. That's not what I did with Kaci Simmons." His confession makes her heart race again as terror takes over her body. "Kaci? That was Kaci? On the news? You sick fuck!" She screams, backing away from him. Her eyes begin filling with tears, blurring her vision ever so slightly.
Ghostface stands back up, kicking her in the chest to push her back down. His heavy boot remains on her chest, putting pressure on her delicate body. She grabs hold of his ankle, but he doesn't budge.
He hovers over her defeated body. Her head fallen to the side, unable to look at him, as single tears escape her sore eyes. Her jumper had scrunched up in the process and she didn't even realise her thighs and black underwear, were on show.
He killed her classmate, her friend. An innocent girl. Gutted and hung.
Ghostface scans her body, taking her in. He loves hearing her breath shake every time he adds more pressure to her chest. Her thighs look delicious in this light. He thought to himself.
Arabella suddenly felt the pressure lift off from her chest, making her head turn to look at him. He was bent back down, by her thighs, his gloved hand making contact with her waist. The contact of the leather against her skin makes her jolt, causing him to hold her down firmly. She realises she's practically half naked in front of the serial killer, instantly attempts to cover herself with the jumper, but is stopped by same gloved hand. She pauses for a moment, staring at the masked killer.
She feels sick, nauseous almost, but there is something about the way he's handling her, the way he's speaking to her, it makes her want to experience more. He murdered her friend and much to her physical response, she wants more.
Before she gets the chance to let go of her jumper, she's met again with the deep voice. "Let me." His tone almost needy, yet demanding. "Unless you'd rather I kill you now instead." With that, she lets go of the jumper. Almost embarrassed at how wet she's getting after his every word.
"That's a good girl." He almost growled, carefully dragging the knife along her thigh. Fuck. What is he doing to me? Am I this fucked up? Indulging so much in her thoughts and the feeling of the cold blade leaving small traces on her thigh, a small moan breaks free from her lips.
He notices. Of course he does. That small, innocent moan causes the bulge under his costume to grow harder. Fuck. The things I want to do to her right now. He knows he has to control himself. He has bigger plans for her.
The knife makes its way up to her heat, cutting through the thin black band of her underwear. Ripping the black fabric away, he notices the glistening stain on them, resulting in a deep moan from Ghostface himself. Shoving the underwear into his pockets, he lifts the jumper higher, revealing Arabella completely to him.
Her mind is fuzzy. Isn't she meant to be terrified? A serial killer is staring at her bare pussy, knife in hand, yet her body's reaction is saying otherwise. She could feel herself dripping. Maybe indulging in this feeling wouldn't be the worst thing? If he's going to kill her anyway, she might as well get an orgasm out of it.
With that, her hand moved under the jumper, caressing her breast, teasing her hard nipples. Another moan left her lips as she closed her eyes.
"Fuck. Look at you. Completely soaked for me. Should we do something about that?" His voice causing waves of pleasure to travel throughout Arabella's body. Her lazy eyes peered at him as she continued to fondle her breast, a breathless 'Mhm' managed to get passed her lip she was biting on. "Answer me." He said aggressively, putting pressure on her thigh with the knife. Is he going to draw blood? She isn't too sure. "Yes Ghostface. Touch me. Please." Ara begged.
She suddenly winced in pain as she felt the knife pierce her thigh, the sensation of blood trickling down almost tickled. "You bleed so pretty." He said in a dark tone. Cleaning the blood off the blade with his glove. Her panting became more heavy as her thigh stung in pain, yet it was all so arousing. She watched him, watch her, pinching on her nipples, panting from pain and pleasure.
He's never seen anything hotter. This whole scene spread in front of him, was his dream. His ideal fantasy and she made it come true.
He pulled the glove off his hand, showing skin for the first time this evening. Her eyes focused on his fingers, anticipating what he may do next. He brought his hand up to her face. Using his other hand, he encourages her mouth to open, only for his fingers to find their way into her warm mouth. She began sucking on them, with no hesitation. Ara hears a moderated moan slip from the mask, causing her to moan in return. "You pretty thing." He said, almost sounding breathless, she noticed.
His fingers abruptly left her mouth and without letting her comprehend what was happening next, his fingers entered her roughly, pumping into her with no warning. Loud moans filled the room, with low grunts from the masked killer.
"You're so fucking tight." He pumped into her faster. His other, still gloved hand wrapped around her throat as he hovered above her quivering body. Her lips perfectly plump, red from how hard she's been biting on them. I wish I could make her lip bleed. His thoughts carrying him away. He was mesmerised by how she's reacting to him.
"F-fuck..." Ara began moaning, but was interrupted when his fingers left her soaked pussy and grabbed the knife used earlier to slice her thigh. "Keep quiet or I'll be tempted to see what your insides look like." The evil in his tone made her feel crazy, like this was a fever dream.
As she begins wrapping her head around what was happening, a cold, smooth sensation entered her warm cunt, filling her up.
"Aah, sh-shit. What-" Unable to express the pleasure she's feeling, she looked down at Ghostface, holding the blade end of the knife in his gloved hand, twisting the handle of the knife around, buried deep inside her.
Her eyes widened as the foreign object was forced into her, the pleasure increasing with every small movement.
He's watching her closely, she can't see his face, or make out his expression, but if she could see the lust in his eyes as he watched her tight cunt wrap around his knife handle, the way her juices flowed over the black object. His hand picked up the pace, her moans filing the once silent house. Fucking exquisite.. How will I ever get enough? He thrust the knife faster, harder.
Arabella lays there on the once hated rough, cold floor, spread wide open for the serial killer that murdered her friend. Her mind doesn't care and she can't control herself. She begins to feel her core tighten. Fuck, he makes me feel good. Imagine what he could do with- No. Don't get carried away. Enjoy this moment, before you die.
"G-ghostface... I'm close." She finally flickers her blue eyes towards him, glancing at the hand working its magic, she becomes aware of blood trickling down the blade. He's pushing the blade so hard, he's cutting into his gloved hand.
He's cutting himself, to pleasure her.
With that, she feels even closer to the edge as she moans his name over and over.
A heavy groan came from the masked killer as he pulled the blade out of her before she could come any closer. Her hand quickly made its way towards her clit, her fingers creating small circular motions to finish herself off.
Before she could begin again, her hand is swatted away, a blood smear left across it. "Did I say you could do that?" His voice low, puffing. "Don't make me cut those pretty hands off." A small hint of humour in his tone, but she'd rather not push her luck.
"But I didn't.. I didn't finish." She whined. Ghostface began standing up from the floor, removing his ruined glove from the bloody hand. "Look what you did to me sweetheart." Facing the bloody hand towards her, she scanned the cut quickly before looking back at him. "I didn't come." She said sternly. He offered her his other hand to pull her up, she grabbed it harshly as he easily assisted her. Her jumper now back down to wear it's supposed to be, but her thighs feel clammy, wet. Her clit still pulsing from lack of touch.
"What is your problem? Is this how you get off? Fucking listen-" She didn't finish her sentence as he pinned her up against the the wall, his bloody palm making straight contact with the ivory wall.
"No, you listen. You little brat!" His moderated voice shouting at her, knocking her confidence down several pegs. "You thought I'd spare your life and give you an orgasm? Who do you think you are?" The knife making another appearance near her neck, but this time she was afraid. He could easily slit her throat right now.
"Arabella, is it? Listen carefully." Ara swallowed a lump in her throat as he spoke into her ear.
"I don't want to kill you, but god help me find the strength to stop myself. I want to gut you open, just like little Kaci and I could hang you from your cute patio. Oh you'd look so pretty hanging from that patio." Tears filled her eyes as horrifying images flashed in her mind.
What was I thinking? That he found me special, would spare me, reveal his identity and we would start our tragic love story together?
"Please..." Terrified Arabella manages to choke out. "Aw. Just earlier you were begging me to touch you and now you want me to leave?" Disgusted with herself she attempts to move her face away from him, yet he forcefully makes her look directly at the horrifying mask. For a moment there's a pause and she's unsure whether he's going to kill her or fuck her.
"Get cleaned up. You're a mess." He says bluntly. "I'm sad I didn't get to hear that pretty mouth of yours scream... maybe next time." He trailed his sentence on, before stepping backwards and leaving out the door.
Just like that. Arabella was alone again, backed against the chilly wall, a bloody smear imprinted over it.
The small drops of blood left on the wooden floor, make her mind shoot back to moments ago. She couldn't think about them too long, afraid of indulging in the memories this early on.
She notices something else, on the floor by the wall. The bloody glove. Did he leave that here on purpose? For her? Her instinct is to smell it and as she does, she catches a whiff of peppermint, subtly mixed with the blood.
As she's taking in the scent of the killer that just pleasured her, a frosty sensation remains down her spine, as she realises he'll be back.