Scream for Me
TW: noncon forced BJ murder GN reader Danny Johnson x reader Jed Olsen x reader Ghostface x reader
Posted on Archive and it was a favorite, I hardly get any volume here but I’ll repost due to the lack of content.
The night was drawn out long, only two generators were close to finishing. Your fingers were covered in cuts, knees bruised, and the only thing keeping you and your friends attentive was the adrenaline of flight. You had seen a man ‘made of shadows’ sneaking around the park following the pack. If it wasn’t for the sacrifice of another, none of you would have guessed the shadowy figure was some crazed psychopath attempting to slaughter any remaining survivors. Jake thought he might have been another, like you or him--but in the end, his kindness brought no justice as he was slashed and gutted across the dreary field by that same figure.
The stranger was cloaked in all black, velvet like ribbons swung from his shoulders as the ghostly pale mask he bore reflected in the moonlight of the far distance. In this ominous lighting it was difficult to see, everyone’s vision was blurred tenfold as the only source of light came from rusty generators with industrial lamps flickering overhead. Each placed around fifty yards out of reach from the other; it was a nightmare trying to adjust one with him chasing them around. He was swift, quiet, and overzealous about when it was time to strike. It was nearly impossible to find sanctuary with him constantly at their ankles.
“Just a few more wires..” Meg whispered, there were only three of you now that were too afraid to separate from the circle. After seeing what was done of Jake--the party chose to work together on the remaining three machines so as to not waste time. This of course, was a horrible idea. The hairs on the back of your neck began to stand, forearms bristled goosebumps, fingers shaking as the cold swept over. Glancing to Meg, then over to David; neither seemed as phased as you were, which was concerning. That overbearing feeling of dread filling the pit of your stomach, like a hearse just rolled by an empty street or a knock beneath the floorboards of a home when you were all alone. It was an unsettling feeling, though too scared to do anything about it.
Fingers frozen in place, your mind dissociating out of fear before a counterpart lightly pressed against your shoulder to see if you were okay. Jumping in place at the sudden touch, the two wires in hand were incorrectly sealed, causing the machine to smoke and send an electric jolt through your being--releasing an alarmed whine. David and Meg took one look at you, then what was behind you--and bolted without a word. Before you had time to recognize what had happened, your face was being held into the dirt by a large, blood-soaked black timberland boot. That was what you were feeling before, his presence hidden behind watching as you worked hoping that one of you would fail to perform so he could make his move.
Of course it had to be you, the scaredy cat of the bunch. No spine to stand with, no guts to fight with. You were chilled to the bone with fear and the tremors of your body amused the stranger so much that he began to chuckle.
“My, my.. What do we have here?” He sniffed the air, “Smells like chicken! Bak, baaaaak~” He teased before giving your open side a kick in the ribs. “Hmm.. I do prefer chickens when I’m all out of pork.” Leaning down, he pressed his knee firmly in between your shoulder blades. Grabbing your jaw between his gloved forefinger and turning your eyes to the door of the shack where in the distance--Jake’s body swayed in the wind, hooked and gutted.. It was such a horrendous sight; you closed your eyes and whimpered.
“Aw… Lil chickee misses Mr. Piggy, huh?” Smacking the back of your head so your nose would hit the ground accordingly. He rose then, allowing you to curl into the fetal position, hugging your knees and squinting your eyes closed in hopes he would make your death quick and just. “Hm.” He leaned back into the open window, looking around for the other two that had abandoned the shack, abandoned you.
“You know.. I’ve got a thing for making pigs squeal.” Unsheathing a Damascus hunting knife from his cloak, tossing it in the air as the tip of his boot shoved your hip down in attempts to guide you back on your stomach which you reluctantly obliged. “But there’s nothing I love more,” Staring at his reflection in the blade’s pattern before chucking his boot between your glutes and dragging the steel-toe deep into your genital region. “Than getting off to them squealing..”
The uncomfortability of fabric and pressure pressing against your sensitive areas gave you just enough confidence to crawl away, though with another kick on the opposite rib left you breathless and incapable of shifting any further.
“Oh no.. Daddy doesn’t like that. Tsk, tsk.” Without pause he kicked again for good measure, you were now in the shape of a russian twist--holding your midsection and bellowing from the pain as your attacker pulled out a Nikon camcorder and set it on the smoking generator. After the little red light appeared, he sought after your throat with his hand. Clutching it tightly in his grasp to pull you onto your knees though it was a struggle as the stretching pains of your wounded torso caused you to fold. You didn’t want to hesitate to his commands as you could endure no more--but the strenuous ache did no favors.
“Get. The. Fuck. Up.” Hoisting you to your knees as best he could before dragging the curve of his blade down your cheek, a light stream of crimson oozing from the surface as you fixed your posture to the best of your abilities to his demands. “Good. See, your legs aren’t broken. Heh.” He shoved his gloved thumb into your mouth, prying it open. Before you had time to react he had reached to the back of your throat with his index and middle finger to see just how far he could go without you gagging. When you coughed, he slipped them out. Quietly looking down at you, watching you shiver and pout. Although you couldn’t see it, he was biting his lower lip. His train of thought littered with all the awful things he wanted to do with you; but with such limited time, he had to make a choice soon. One that you were unaware was better or worse than the others.
“God, I love that look in your eye..” You blinked a bit confused, the reintroduction of cold steel against your open wound causing you to wince. “That hurt?” Grimacing, you nodded slowly, tears swelling in your eyes. “Mm..” Dragging the pointy end past your jawline to the crook of your neck, pressing into it just hard enough for a couple dribbles of blood to reach the surface, nothing major--but enough to keep you intimidated. “You.. You want me to stop?” Uncertain if that was a trap question, you nodded. His rasp laugh spawned flinches of terror.
He breathed slowly as he began to saw the blade gingerly into your neck, his free hand cupping his groin. You tried not to take notice of either, but focused on his freehand so the pain wouldn’t bother you as much as the overall trepidation was overwhelming at this point.
“Oh.. You like this?” Clutching his crotch, you turned away into the direction of the blade haphazardly causing it to dig in further. “Hey.” Removing the blade to press just under your chin, his feverish gaze hidden graciously from the black fabric of his mask as you glanced to meet him timidly. “You wanna get out of here.. Right?” You nodded, tears streaming down your face.
There was a brief pause before he spoke again, his knife bringing your face closer to his crotch as a gesture to what he wanted. You cringed in response, his was to deepen the cut of your chin--gasping, you found your hands placed firmly on his pelvis. You knew what you had to do, or at least that’s what you thought--fiddling with the loops of his trousers and tugging the waistband down revealing a thatch of dark hair. Gulping, you forced your hands to push them lower.. Unsettling lump in the back of your throat as a half-erect pierced penis bounced from its cover. Swallowing your pride, you leaned forward with open lips, though to your surprise the effort was stopped short.
“Nuh-uh.” Petting your forehead with his freehand, “Stroke it for me first..” Shocked, you thought the opportunity of a waiting game might be beneficial in the long run--perhaps this would give your friends time to get the other two generators up and working and they’d come back for you while he was distracted. If this was the case; you’d go with it if it meant getting out of here alive.
Reaching a shaky hand out, your clammy palm rubbing against the barrel of his phallus caused him to coo. “Mmm.. Cold hands, I like that..” You felt the tension of the blade subside as you soothed into a grip. Stroking from the center shaft down to the base. The soft glow of fright in your eyes reflecting off a prince albert as you continued to satiate his needs. It was slow at first, your hand just barely grazed the warm flesh turning into heated movements of haste and friction. He growled under your touches, his cock stiffened in curve.
Astonishingly enough, the plan thus far seemed to work. You could overhear a generator ignition along with a beam of light pouring through the window, outlining the stranger’s appearance more clearly. He had a mixture of blood and mud caked on the cuffs of his pants and thighs. The robes he wore were splattered with red hues, some old and some fairly new. There was a smidge of light in the eyeholes of his mask, you could barely see but--the wicked gaze hidden behind the fabric sent chills down your spine. When your hand’s pace hesitated you felt a smack against the back of your head with the handle of his knife.
“Hey, I didn’t tell you to stop chickadee.. Now open wide,” You made the mistake of refusing him entry, his head tilted. “I’m a bit annoyed that you’re such a slow learner..” Holding your cheek from his back handed strike as it began to sting, both from the cut and impact. “I’m not gonna tell you again; You want to survive this shit-hell of a night, right?” Nodding sheepishly, glancing at the camera. “Then gargle my load--or your own blood.” He shrugged, tossing the knife into his other hand and pointing it at the hollow of your throat. “Your choice.”
Reaching shyly for his cock, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and groaned. “Hurry the fuck up, we gotta stay on schedule.”
He didn’t need to ask twice, licking your cracked lips before enveloping him inside your mouth. Tongue swirled over the attached metal--it wasn’t as cold as you thought it would be; but it was strange to work around. In fact you believed you performed better for it as it was like an obstacle for your tongue to toy with and move around. His huffing in pleasure was a reward, but it was not enough as your esophagus was suddenly stretched by the pressure of his fingers digging into your scalp. The feeling of metal scratching the very back of your throat as you were being asphyxiated. You attempted to pull away temporarily as to show you were committed to the act--though he seemed to enjoy watching you suffocate more.
“Fuck yeah.. Choke on it--Mm..” Finally he released his hold on you, allowing only a moment of breath before slamming himself back inside your flustered cheeks. Sounds of gurgling and flesh slapping together echoed within the shack. “Oh that’s good--that’s good..” He groaned. At this point you had little control over this, he was going to use your throat as a cock sleeve until he was done. There wasn’t a moment you weren’t stuffed--slobber oozing from your occupied lips and dripping from your nostrils.
This continued for a matter of minutes, the lack of oxygen making you weak. Everything felt static around you--everything but the reminisce of what seemed to be an engine revving caught your attention in between thrusts. “Fuck.. I can’t have all the fun--Now can I?” Pulling himself away, your hands dropping to the ground in a fit of coughing. “If only I had more time.. I’d fuck that pretty ass of yours. With the way you hyperventilate around my cock; I’d love to hear how you scream..” Swiping your arms out from under you with his leg, you glanced upward pitifully.
“Finish me off lil chick.” He purred with a single stroke of his salivated covered shaft. Rubbing your face into the bend of your arm to get rid of the spit, “No. Spit adds flavor, but that’s fine.. I’ve got something saltier for those taste buds of yours, Chica.”
The thought alone made you shudder. But you were convinced you’d survive this awful experience, so with all your might, you climbed back to your position, slurping at the tip while your free hand stroked his pulsing length. If you were going to finish him, you ought to do it quickly. Flicking your tongue just under his piercing and trailing it all the way down to his scrotum. Glancing up to meet his expressionless gaze before softly suckling his testicles.
“Oh…” Gritting his teeth, “You’re so good baby..” His breath hot as your grip intensified. The pace you were going was rather remarkable for someone who’s ribs were bruised and dehydrated. Pumping fast with one hand while swiveling his manhood with the proud muscle of your mouth. Pinching the sensitive skin in your teeth, circling figure eight’s. Just before climax you plunged his cock deep into your throat, bobbing up and down with your lips tucked in. Hand palming his balls as they began to shrink, anticipating thick fluid to spurt and fill your gullet. Once it had, you felt yourself a bit relieved, swallowing bit by bit through the soreness you experienced prior. The two of you are huffing from exhilaration.
Watching you submit to his whim was the highlight of his night. But nothing could beat the humiliated look on your face when the final generator placed in the confines of your own personal Hell turned on unexpectedly. “Bout time you guys got that thing on.. Watchin’ you struggle was a real ball-buster.” He laughed as your face reddened with disappointment. Meg and David barely batted a lash as you were being violated, instead; they ran in hopes to find a way out, and the worst part? They fixed that machine through the entire act without so much as attempting to help--even with the masked figure’s pants around his ankles.
“Awww, tsk, tsk chickadee.. Those friends of yours? They don’t care about you.. They sat and watched you blow the guy who gutted your friend and hung him like a banner. You really thought they’d come back for you? Ouch. Life’s funny like that ya’ know..” Grabbing his camcorder and shoving it in your face to capture the expression of pure defeat. “But moments like these..” Vile chuckling. “This was such a treat.. Shame I’m gonna have to go catch those buffoons before they reach the exit. It would be a real shame if I broke our lil’ promise, huh? So..” Pulling his pants back up, rolling his neck and squatting a couple times before slashing at the air. “You better hope I catch them. Cause if I don’t, and you’re still here when I get back..” Lowering his head, “Heh, I don’t think you’d wanna know.. Would you? Let’s just keep it a surprise.”
As the shadowy figure ascended into the dark, you felt yourself slipping into hysterics. Glancing around as to figure out where you could go, if you should go at all. He’s so fast he’d catch up in a heartbeat, that is unless the two split and gave him a run for his money. You found the courage to stand, albeit your torso disagreed. Ignoring the agony you found yourself running deep into the field. A shout from the distance alerting the crows around a nearby playground just ahead--It seemed he had caught Meg, your heart feeling heavy at the thought of what he’d do to her--then remembering that they left you behind. Tenacity for survival is your only bet now, you continued forth despite the distant screams of a teammate clawing in the back of your consciousness.
As you approached the playground, you noticed David wounded by a rock a few feet away. His hand reaches out for your assistance. You couldn’t see much, but you swore his shin or ankle must be broken with the way he knelt, difficulty standing on his own was a good indication of that. His eyes filled with the same amount of terror that yours were before; but when his bandaged hand pointed to a hatch not far from the playground and the sound of running heels started catching up to you--you took the opportunity to throw a rock in his direction to alert the killer of his direction. David’s terrified expression only grew as you bolted your way to freedom.
David’s screams filled your ears with dread just before you approached the wooden door. Turning to look over your shoulder to see him face down in the dirt, throat slit and quiet. Wiping runny nose into the collar of your shirt, you turned back to kneel before the hatch. Just as you reached your foot in the hole--it was sealed shut by none other than the attacker you’d been fleeing from all night. Your heart sank, every feeble attempt at escape proved futile. “Why..” You asked.
“Why not let me leave.. Y-you said if I--” Shivering in place, “I gave you what you wanted.. All my friends are dead.” Looking at him in total distress. “Please, you said I could leave..”
“Oh yeah, I did say that didn’t I?” He chuckled, standing over the hatch so you couldn’t struggle to pry at the lock while he spoke “But I don’t recall saying when you could leave, now did I? Plus, I never got to hear you scream.”