#i wanna wear it to like. an anime convention. who will NOT take kindly to A Knife.

[altruistic-meme]

why do all of these thigh knife holders have knives with them-

[hiskillingjar]

pretty rave girl

Relationship: Ren Hana/MC Rating: Explicit Includes: Dubious Consent, Coerced Consent, Date Rape, Drugging, Intoxication, Hypnotism (sort of), Anime Conventions Length: 6200+ words

an rehash and extension of my hypnotism kinktober fic, very kindly requested by @frawgsie! thank you so much for your support <3

if you'd like a commission of your own, feel free to check out my post and shoot me a message!

Part One

"Can I get a Monster, please?"

"Original, Ultra White, or-"

"Pipeline Punch, obviously!” You said with an exaggerated ‘ugh!’, flicking the plastic fibres of your wig out of your eyes, heavily made up and caked in pink glitter. “Is there any other?"

The girl behind the bar rolled her eyes, probably wishing she was also partying in the ball room instead of serving you. She turned away, fetching a tall pink can from the set of fridges behind her, readily stocked for the messy nerds the hotel was reluctantly hosting over the convention weekend.

"You're such a bitch." 

Ren giggled, a little tipsy in his own right, as he pressed to your side, lolling and lazing against your shoulder. His chest hit your sweaty back, skin sticking to the thin material of his shirt, and his tail swayed cool air against your thighs as it wagged. 

"She was just asking you a question. No need to bite her head off."

"Come on, it's a dumb question!” You said, eyes flitting towards him as the girl cracked open the can and slid it towards you (lest you try and sneak anything closed into the ballroom). “How can you look at me,” You gestured downwards at the tacky Chibi Moon cosplay you were wearing, thigh highs, a short skirt and a bikini sporting a comically large bow between the cups. “And think I'll ask for anything but Pipeline Punch?"

"You have no taste.” He continued to giggle, snaking his arms around your waist and nuzzling into the fibres of your pink pigtails.“Ultra White is peak."

"Maybe if you have an eating disorder," You rolled your eyes, paying the exorbitant five dollars for the can with a tap of your phone. "Something you wanna tell me, Ren?~"

“Shut up,” He rebuked with an irked huff, a small growl escaping his throat as he squeezed you around the waist, pressing you flush against the line of his slender body and nipping at your pierced earlobe, a quasi-punishment for being ‘such a bitch’. “And drink your Monster, before you piss me off.”

"Mm, not so close,” You complained with a lip-gloss lacquered pout, taking a long initial sip from the can and smacking your lips. “It's so hot in there. I swear, I can feel sweat dripping down my crack-"

“Well, let’s stop wasting time already,” He cut you off with an exaggerated sigh, taking your free hand and dragging you towards the double doors of the hotel ballroom. “I don’t wanna miss anything good!”

"Okay, okay!" You laughed in spite of yourself, taking another swig from your can, the fruity chemicals bubbling over your tongue and satisfying your thirst, before you thrust it towards him. "Can you hold this for a second? I need to adjust my bra."

"Oh, so you're calling those two triangles a bra now?" He said with a good-natured eye roll, as you turned around and adjusted the strings of your bikini top, tightening them slightly and breathing in as they cut into the soft flesh of your chest, pushing your breasts together (and making them look fucking awesome, thank you very much). “You’re so high maintenance, I swear.”

"Now who's the bitch!" You said with an exaggerated gasp before grinning, leaning in to kiss his cheek (leaving behind a pink lip gloss print) and take your can back. "Thank youuuu~"

"Pff," He rolled his eyes again, though he couldn’t hold back a dumb smile, his hand reaching for yours once more as he pulled you back inside the crowded ballroom, the pounding music instantly loud and throbbing through every inch of your body as soon as you stepped inside, like you could feel it in your bones. "You're such a tease, y'know that?"

"I don't think you can call me a tease when you're gonna get laid at the end of the night." You commented with a cattish smirk, following behind him obediently.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, you slut~" Ren said with a mischievous smirk, his ears tilting forward with a shake of his head.

He led you through the sea of dancing people and closer towards the front of the ballroom, where a DJ (donned with a neon green furry wolf head that you guessed was probably drenched in sweat) was spinning the tracks for the night, all while a matching set of monitors were projecting visuals for the set; sped-up anime openings, well-cropped hentai and constant, flashing lights.

It made the rave's energy feel much more manic, and you loved it.

You were grinning like an idiot by the time the two of you got to the front, squeezed tight between the other dancers (some couples, some groups, some going solo), soaking up the atmosphere like a sponge, and your body was already moving in time with the music, your hips swaying, your chest bouncing and your shoulders bobbing up and down.

Ren turned to look at you, his amber eyes lecherously raking over your body from top to bottom, admiring the cheap cosplay that barely covered you, a clear lust behind his gaze. 

Not like you minded. You knew you were hot, and his validation just made you feel hotter.

"God, you look good tonight," He said loudly over the music, matching your dance moves the best he could (without a bouncing chest).

You somehow smiled even more and stroked down the length of your pigtails, before tossing them over your shoulder, your eyes half-lidded and a seductive pout on your lips.

"How good do I look, hm?" You crooned, pressing closer to him so he could hear you.

"Good enough for me to want to fuck you on the dance floor." He admitted with a brazen, fanged grin, closing the space between the two of you, his hot body pressed against yours, making it all too easy for him to roll his hips against your own, in time with the pounding bassline.

You could feel how hard he was through his jeans. 

Already. You had barely done a thing and you were already driving him crazy.

He was so fucking easy.

"You're such a nerd," You laughed, but you didn't stop yourself from pressing against him too, the back of your skirt riding up high as he slotted his groin against your backside, his hands bracketing your full hips and holding on tightly. "Seriously? I just gotta dress like an anime girl to get you going?"

"What can I say?" He hummed airily, his hands wandering up and down your thighs and groping your ass through the thin fabric of the cosplay. “I’m very weak against a very specific type of girl. It’s not my fault you fit it perfectly.”

You bit your lip to hide another big, dumb smile, feeling his hand slide higher up your skirt and toy with the elastic hem of your bicycle shorts (you had to retain some modesty, after all), like he was threatening to pull them down, and really fuck you, right there on the dancefloor, in front of everyone.

The very idea of that made you feel lightheaded.

Or was it something else? 

"Fuck, it's so hot in here," You breathed out and stood up straight after the song finished, feeling a bead of sweat run down your inner thighs and make the spandex shorts start to chafe painfully against your skin. You sighed and took another swig of Monster, before pushing your wrist against your forehead, wiping up more sweat with a grimace. “I think I might actually have to go outside, it’s a little too much.”

Instead of pulling you out of the ballroom to get some air (which you wouldn’t have expected from him anyway), Ren reached around and grabbed your wrist, tight, before guiding your hand upwards, the cool metal of the Monster can pressed back against your gasping lips. 

"You don’t need to do that. Just finish your drink, baby," He ordered softly (in a tone you knew you couldn’t argue with), hooking his chin over your shoulder and tracing his soft lips over your ear, whispering sweet words under the pounding music. "It'll help you cool down, won’t it?"

"Mmf-!" 

You spluttered in muffled (if slightly coerced) agreement as the drink hit your lips again and filled your mouth, the overwhelming sweetness making your brain pound (an after-effect of the caffeine and nothing else, surely, you had barely drank anything that night), more than the music had, more than the flashing lights and swirling colours had.

Sticky pink fluid ran down your chin as he poured more down your throat, too fast for you to swallow, and trickled over your chest, soaking into the costume.

When you glanced down (as much as you could, as much as he let you), you saw your nipples (gradually hardening to firm little buds) slowly becoming visible under the wet fabric, dusky pink beneath the soaked, white polyester, and it made something inside you throb painfully.

"Oh, look at you," Ren tutted condescendingly as he looked down at your body, keening forward so his tongue could run over the side of your chin to collect the droplets of sticky Monster. His eyes were smouldering as his free hand then pulled your hips against his once more, pushing your skirt up completely. "Such a mess. You just always need me to take care of you, don’t you?"

Hhhhh…" 

You breathed out unsteadily through your nose, heavy eyes blinking slowly (dumbly), as he poured another mouthful of energy drink down your throat, your head spinning even more. 

The crowd of bodies around you were packed in so tight, the small ballroom hot and humid (stinking of weeaboo sweat and fruity-scented vape smoke), and filled to the brim with the manic energy of a thousand nerds on their first night out, hopped up on Monster Energy and vodka, listening to nightcore remixes of their favourite anime. 

It was an infectious energy that made your heavy head pound even more.

And you didn't know if it was the caffeine and the sugar from the drink, or if it was the pounding music and flashing lights, or if it was something else entirely making you feel so...strange all of a sudden, but you knew you liked it, whatever it was.

"Oh, fuck," 

You breathed out as a new song started playing, speakers practically throbbing with droning sirens, drawled vocals and pounding bass. This was all while the twin monitors played sensorily overwhelming visuals, flashing lights, swirling spirals (pink and purple, blurred text overlaying it), half-naked anime girls and candy-sweet gore, fake blood tinged almost pink and making your mouth water. 

"This song is...really fucking good..."

"Oh yeah?" Ren chuckled, watching the way your chest heaved as he pulled the pink can away from your lips, the sugar-sweet liquid staining your chin and pooling in the valley of your heaving breasts, almost glistening against your pale skin under the harsh lights of the room. "Maybe you should...pay attention to it, hm? If it's that good~"

You barely managed to slur a meek "okay" as he pressed his free hand between your shoulder blades, suddenly forcing your chest forward and bending your body in two, before pressing his hips squarely against your backside. His hand then curled into your ‘hair’ (the shitty wig, sliding atop your head and showing off some of your real hair) and pushed your head forward, so your eyes would focus on nothing but the flashing lights and visuals on screen, and he could keep you still and stimulated.

"That's a good girl," He said as the lower half of your body moved to the beat of the music, swaying and jerking against his crotch. "Just focus on the beat. That’s it."

Your hazy eyes locked forward, almost (entirely) involuntarily (though maybe there was something a little hot about that), widening slightly as the lights sped up to match the sped-up beats-per-minute, black and white imprinted on your lids and blurring your vision.

The rest of the clubgoers blurred, too, into a muddy and abject sea of multicoloured wigs, cheap AliExpress cosplay and fursuits. 

None of them mattered. Nobody mattered here.

All that mattered were those monitors, now showing censored hentai and those overlays of pink and purple spirals, making your heart pound and your brain throb in your skull.

What little brain you still had.

Ren pressed closer to you, arching his body over your bent back, the solid weight of his body an anchor against the increasingly dizzying effect of the music and the lights.

“Y’know, you really do look good tonight, baby…”

"Heh," You laughed, breathing out unsteadily as you tried to stand up straight again. He kept you still with the hand in your hair, claws threateningly digging into your scalp (if you got any blood on this wig, you’d kill him). "Hehehe…mm…” Your hair lolled forward even more. “My head feels funny, Ren~"

Your voice was soft, sweet, almost simpering, nowhere close to the ‘bitchy tone’ he occasionally took issue with.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, a hidden smirk playing on his lips as he took in your dazed expression and the needy look in your eyes, pulling your hips closer to his crotch, so you could feel the stirrings of his arousal against the ‘gusset’ of your bike shorts. "That's reeeeally interesting, sweetheart..."

"Hhhhehehe, did you druuug me?" You laughed again as he pushed you forward, the small if persisting amount of fear barely audible in your voice over the pounding music.

"Now, why would I do something like that, hm?" He asked, his tone almost innocent, the cock to his head and the smirk on his voice audible through his facade of guiltlessness.

"I...don't know," You breathed out, licking your lips again to quell your nervousness and tasting the overwhelming sweetness of the Monster and the aftertaste of something…chalky. "I just feel so hot...and...hahhh...l-like I can’t even keep my head up. Heh," A shaky smile came to your face as you panted a little more. “I think you put something in my drink…”

"Aw, I don’t think so, baby. I think you might just be overheating…don’t you?" He asked with feigned sympathy and ignorance at your accusation, his hands then wandering across the planes of your body, the tips of his fingers trailing over the sweat-sticky bare skin of your back, your hips, your thighs. "Oh, you really do feel hot! Ah, I thought you were exaggerating! You poor thing."

"Hhhh," 

You wheezed uselessly as he pulled your shoulders upwards and trotted to your front, a little dribble of pink-tinged spittle running down your sticky chin. The music felt like it was only getting louder, though, despite him pushing you back, away from the heaving crowds of people (who were only getting more excited) and towards the corner of the ballroom.

Ren just chuckled at the sight of you, as you pressed your back against the cool metal wall of the ballroom, sliding downwards slightly, barely able to keep yourself upright.

 "God, you're pathetic," He laughed in your ear as his chest pressed against yours, your face flushed from the heat and the drugged drink, your lax body swaying to beats and lights, even when you were pinned to the wall. "You look so out of it, baby."

"Heh heh," You giggled brainlessly, trying to shut your mouth. You couldn’t stop drooling. "I...y-yeah...I guess I am."

"Yeahhhh, you're just a mess, aren’t you?" He continued to tease cruelly, his hands roaming your sides, your hips, again, thumbs hooking over the waistband of your bike shorts, threatening to pull them down completely. "But you love it, don't you? Feeling all brainless and all dizzy and needy. I bet you’re addicted to it, like you’re addicted to those fucking energy drinks~"

You couldn't say anything, your brain was only able to focus on those fucking flashing lights and the fucking pounding music, and how fucking good it was making you feel.

You had a sense that it wasn’t just sweat and Monster making you feel so wet.

"You're such a good girl, baby," He then said, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, his tongue running down to your exposed collar, tasting salt and sweet on your skin as his lips reached the sticky valley of Monster between your breasts. "And good girls get rewards, don't they?” He pulled back and eyed you with a fanged smile. “You want a reward, don't you, baby?"

"Mm," You moaned mindlessly, nodding in time with the music.

"Good girl, asking for what you want," He growled in satisfaction, his tongue tracing back up the side of your neck and to your ear as he pulled you closer. "I think you're going to enjoy it, too~"

Your hazy mind didn't catch his hand going into the pocket of his jeans (he hadn’t even dressed up, not like you had, you always made such a fucking effort to impress him), but you knew immediately what he had done when you felt a familiar device buzz to life inside your panties.

"OH!"

You had forgotten about the bullet when you got dressed that morning. 

Have you been walking around with a sex toy in your underwear all day, even when you were at the convention?

The idea of it made your cunt twinge a little.

Well, a little more.

"Mmm," Ren hummed happily, the vibrations rocking through your body to the beat of the music (it must have had a special sensor built-in or something, how much had this cost him?), just making your brain slur even more as the bass pounded on and on. "You are a naughty girl, aren’t you? Letting me do something like this to you in public?"

"I-I didn't...ohhhh~" You moaned helplessly, tipping your head back against the wall as your thighs clenched together tightly, trying to contain all the pleasure within yourself. 

Your eyes stayed open, though, half-lidded and staring ahead at those pink graphics.

"But you don't hate it, do you?" He asked, nipping at your ear, tugging at the hoop through it and pressing his fingers against the front of your shorts, forcing the small device a little harder against you, right where it needed to be. "It feels good, doesn't it?  And you look so hot like this, baby, all needy and mindless. Everyone here is going to know you're my girl and be so jealous."

Of course, you didn’t hate this.

Your full lips were slack and drooling a sticky mix of spit and energy drink down your chin and making your nipples show through your shitty costume. Your eyes were locked ahead, practically pinned in place, and your entire body was positively thrumming with pleasure, both from the vibrator in your panties and the enthralling trance you’d be put under, both only made worse by a sped-up and bass-boosted version of the Ouran High School Host Club theme song.

How could you possibly hate even a moment of this?

Hate wasn't an option you could choose, anymore. 

Just gleeful happiness.

"That's what I thought," Ren praised your non-answer with a triumphant smile, his lips trailing back to the crook of your neck and sucking at the skin, leaving a small mark (which you barely reacted to, you were so gone) before his voice dropped even lower in your ear. "And you're going to stay like this for me, all needy and pretty, all night, until everyone here can see just how filthy my baby is for me, aren't you?"

"Yessss," You drawled out with another mindless moan, the vibrator in your panties building in intensity as the droning bridge dropped and the bass began to pound. "God, yes..."

"Suuuuch a good girl," He whispered, his fangs finding the edge of your ear and biting down hungrily, his chest rising and falling against your front in time with the beat. Maybe this was exciting him as much as it was exciting you. "I want you to look at the stage, baby. I want you to watch what's on the screen for me."

You hadn’t looked away all this time, but found all the more reason not to when he was ordering you around like this.

"You don't need anything, do you, baby? You don't need to think or worry about anything, hm?" He murmured, his soft voice somehow permeating each rise and fall of the music. "All you need is to focus on is how good the music feels, how good I make you feel, and how desperately you want more…”

"Y-Yeah," You murmured softly, your hazy eyes half-lidded again as your lips went slack with another desperate wheeze of breath. "Hhhh..."

“And only good girls get to feel like this, don’t they?" He then asked, somehow turning up the bullet another notch and listening to you moan, pink spirals reflected in your glassy, doll-like eyes. “Only good girls get to feel this happy and free.”

"I'm a good girl," You smiled brainlessly, your head tilting back. "Ngh, I’m a good girl..."

"That's right," He whispered with a proud smile, nuzzling against you, the soft whisps of his hair and fur of his ears damp with sweat. "You're my good girl. Soooo, you're going to keep dancing for me, all mindless and dumb, so that everyone here knows you’re mine, and there’s nothing they can do about it. Sound good?”

"Uh huh~" 

“So pathetic. Hmm, no wonder I like you so much~”

Part Two

"Thank you so much for your help!" 

The elevator doors slid open with a low ‘ding’.

You looked up in silent alarm with an exhausted murmur, drunken and dazed and still drooling down your front, your gaze switching from one arm, which Ren had thrown over his shoulder, and the other, where a random guy (in a pretty decent Leon Kennedy cosplay) was supporting you, helping the younger man carry your slack body back up to your hotel room.

He couldn’t have done it himself, after all.

"Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do to help?” He asked, scraping the fibres of his blonde wig from his eyes. “She looks pretty out of it, man."

"Yeah, totally,” Ren smiled, his tail wagging behind you as he held onto you a little tighter, his other arm slung around your waist, protectively, possessively holding you against his smaller body, like the good boyfriend he was trying to be. “She's just a little drunk after the rave, is all. She’ll be totally fine after I’ve gotten her to lie down. Isn’t that right, sweetie?" 

He squeezed your hip hard, making you groan and lean into him a little more, playing the perfect role of a drunken girlfriend (reacting to his squeezes like a toy would). 

"You know how it is,” He added with an appreciative smile towards the stranger. “Her first con, getting excited and all..."

"Oh yeah, for sure.” ‘Leon’ nodded empathetically, following Ren as they both dragged you down the hall and towards your room. “My boyfriend is the same, totally..."

After a few more moments of polite chatter and you stumbling along with them, (the vibrator thankfully at rest in your panties, you wouldn’t have been able to walk if it was still going like it was), Ren reluctantly let go of your waist for a second to retrieve the room’s key card from his jean pocket.

"This is us!” He said, producing the card and holding you tighter. “Thanks again for your help."

"For sure.” ‘Leon’ smiled as Ren tapped the key to the door and opened it up, helping you through the door frame with a sheepishness in his posture (possibly cluing into the dynamic between the two of you, who knew). “Um, have a good rest of your night. And, uh,” He smiled again, a little awkwardly, and gestured to the space above his head. “Love your ears by the way. Super realistic!"

Ren’s tail swayed a little more as he waved the guy off happily.

"You too! Enjoy the rave!"

‘Leon’ left you to it and Ren waited patiently until he had walked down the corridor, back to the elevator, before he shut the door behind the two of you. He took your shoulder in hand and jerked you towards the hotel’s bed with an authoritative kind of promptness, like he couldn’t wait to do…whatever he had planned next.

"Makes you feel good, doesn't it?” He asked, his voice airy and casual, as you slumped on the edge of the bed with a tired moan. “Someone helping like that. People are so nice."

"Mmh..." You nodded lazily in agreement, trying to keep your head up.

Ren just chuckled watching you try to stay alert (stay guarded from whatever he had planned) and started to pace around the room, his arms crossed as he assessed the bags and boxes of figures, plushies, art prints, and…well, whatever else you saw in the convention centre that attracted your attention.

You had so little of your own. Could you be blamed for going a little ham with this stuff?

"You really spent a lot of my money, didn't you, sweetie?” He asked, placing his hands on his hips and shaking his head, as if he was scolding you for something. “I think you brought half the artist alley back up here! Mm, that's okay, though.” He smiled, a subdued sort of cruelty touching his eyes and making you shiver, his tail continuing to sway. “I have a sense that you're gonna make it up to me."

“Ren,” You murmured softly as he approached you, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving you a swift shove backwards, your back hitting the overstuffed mattress and stained blankets with a quiet ‘oof’. “I-I don’t feel so good…can we take it slow tonight? Please?”

“I don’t think so,” Ren crooned lowly with an indulgent smirk, moving his knee between your legs and pushing them apart, your skirt having completely ridden up and your bike shorts concealing next to nothing."God, this outfit really is hot.” He said, leaning over you then, his hands bracketing your full hips. “I'm sorry my costume didn't come in time, we would have looked so cool matching tonight…"

"What did you give me?" You slurred, letting out an unsteady breath as he reached up your skirt and pulled down your shorts, past your thigh highs and boots, and tossed them to the side. “Ren, seriously…hh, my head is fucking killing me…”

“Hm?” He looked up, his ears moving forward in alarm, before he tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. "What’s that? Are you coming down, baby?” He grinned at your sudden discomfort, exposing wet fangs and eyes gleaming with malice. “Aw, don't worry, I have some more where that came from."

“More of what?” You asked, making an attempt to sit up on the bed.

He ignored your question and quickly stepped away from you then, pacing back across the hotel room to fetch another tall can of Monster from the television stand (adorned with make-up products and discarded underwear from the previous night).

 "See, it’s even in your favourite flavour~" Ren teased with another grin, cracking open the can and kneeling back on the bed, looming over you, as he shoved you back down. “Open wide!”

“MMH-!”

He poured out the first spill of Monster liberally, covering your flushed face and heaving chest with the sticky, carbonated liquid all over again, and making the blankets beneath your slack body sodden and very cold.

"You really are addicted to this stuff, aren’t you? I should just keep you fed on this…” He mused with a dirty, little titter, before reaching forward and taking your cheeks in hand, squeezing them together and forcing your mouth open in a demeaning pout. “I could just pour it into a dog bowl and leave it out for you all day.” 

He poured out another spill of it, and you had to open your mouth wide (as much as you could in his grip) to catch the majority of it, lest you be covered in even more.

“Wffh,” You breathed out a spray of the sticky fluid, covering your chin as you tried to shake your head out of his grip. “What did you give me…hhh…”

He sat himself down on your thighs then, balancing the can on your heaving chest, nestled between your sticky breasts, dusky nipples hard from the cold fluid and pressed, pornographically tight, against your bikini top.

"It's kind of funny that you're so clueless about it, you know.” He said, reaching to his back pocket and producing a plastic baggie of white powder. “Didn't you ever get a DARE class about date rape drugs, when you were still in school?” He drew his words deliberately slow as he opened the baggie, carefully pouring a small amount of the powder into the can, making it fizz and overflow across your stomach. 

He tilted his head condescendingly as he tucked the baggie away, and took hold of your face again, claws digging into your sticky skin. 

"Or did you get one, and you were too much of a dumb idiot to pay attention to it, hm?"

You swallowed another mouthful of energy drink as it poured onto your face again, the chalky aftertaste familiar from when he had drugged you before, back at the rave.

Ketamine. 

Fuck, you always had bad reactions to ketamine.

"I mean, I know they call them date rape drugs and all. But..." Ren shrugged as he poured another mouthful of the tainted Monster into your mouth, not caring when you spluttered and choked on it. "I think that sort of suggests that you're not desperate for it. When I know you totally are!" 

He licked his lips hungrily, watching as you sucked in a hard breath, just trying to breathe while you were waterboarded with fucking Monster Energy. 

"Maybe they should just call them 'date' drugs, hm? Cus they make you all...loose and ready for it, right?"

He set the half-finished can on the bedside table and pushed himself back, completely between your legs, before pressing the persisting bulge in his jeans (little pervert that he was, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d been hard all this time) against the front of your panties, seeing just how wet you had gotten from his teasing back at the rave.

"Rennn..." You whined needily through a wet splutter of energy drink, raising your hips with shaky calves to meet his needy thrusts. “Gh, please-”

"Shhh, I'm right here, baby." He cooed, pulling himself back enough so he could pull the sides of your panties down your legs and enjoy you bare and vulnerable underneath him. "Mm, look at you, all wet and needy for me.” He murmured with another indulgent smirk. “Well, I guess I have an advantage in that sense, don't I?"

"NHH!"

The bullet inside of you (because it had been pushed against enough to slide in there) buzzed to life again.

When had he even gotten his phone out?

You whined loudly the second it started buzzing again, breathing hard as you squeezed your eyes shut, hips tilting upwards just trying to find even more of the sinful vibrations.

"I reeeally thought you were gonna cum down there, you know. When we were in the rave.” Ren smirked, sitting up on his knees and unbuckling his belt with dextrous hands. “Or in the elevator, in front of that strange guy.” He then reached down to unzip and unbutton his jeans, shifting forward again to rub against your buzzing opening again, his tail wagging as the vibrations clearly had an effect on him too. “Heh, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

“Mmm…ah,” You breathed out, shivering with pleasure as his hand slid up your (sticky) stomach and to your damp bikini top, teasing your nipple through the wet fabric.

"Like how you like showing off in your slutty, little bikini.” He breathed out with a little chuckle. “I'm not mad…mmh," He shifted down his boxers then, pushing your thighs open even more and giving himself a bigger space to slot his cock into. "The exact opposite, actually. It's really, reeeally hot how much you enjoy being a huge slut. Most girls don't have your sense, you know~"

You took in another sharp inhale when you felt the head of his cock rub against your cunt, teasing, threatening you with more.

"Nhhh…” You squeezed your eyes shut, your arms laying slack at your side as the drug pulsed through your veins again, just making your head spin even more. “No, no…”

“Don’t say no to me, baby. I know you don’t really mean it, after all.” He chided lightly,  the claws of his free hand digging into your thigh as he tried to push himself closer, push himself inside of you. "You know, I don't think girls like you can even get raped,” He added with another airy, aroused titter. “Mm, at least not by guys like me."

"AH!" You gasped, your eyes shooting wide and your head absolutely swimming with drugged lust as he pushed deeper into you, the length of his hard cock filling you up completely and the initial swellings of his knot pressed against your slit, wet and open and hungry. “Oh, fuck, Ren-!”

"God, you're so wet, already,” He breathed out, shoving himself closer towards you, building up an initial momentum of pounding thrusts as his chest heaved in time with each of your whines and whimpers. “I barely have any friction at all. I can just..."

You grit your teeth, eyes squeezing shut again as he pushed deeper inside of you.

"Slide in, knot first.” He grinned, half delirious with his own pleasure, a string of drool clinging to his wet teeth and dripping across your chest, breasts bouncing each time he thrust deeper inside of you, looking all the more pornographic and ridiculous. “Haha, I bet you won't even be able to cling onto my knot like this, you know. You're just so wound up and wet~"

He slapped your hip sharply, seeking some kind of physical reaction, and making you shriek and tighten up around him.

Or, well, attempt to tighten up. 

You were sort of too far gone to try doing that now.

"Fuck, why is even that getting me hot?” He breathed out, his heavy body sinking down against yours to pin you against the bed, rutting harder against you, each wet slap of flesh against flesh pushing you that much closer to your limit (whatever that limit was, you weren’t so sure anymore). “You really bring out the worst in me, baby."

“Ohhh,” You moaned loudly, unable to hold anything back with so many drugs in your system, the concoction of caffeine and ketamine (and a little booze) making you feel that much more disorientated and totally out of it. “Ren, Ren, Ren!”

“I’m right here, shhh, I’m here just for you,” He murmured, nestling close to you, his sharp cannibal teeth against your sticky neck and his tongue drawing wet lines up your skin. “I mean, hah,” He breathed hard, scenting you, intimate and sweet, contradicting his harsher actions. “I was already pretty bad. But ohhh, you just make me want to be even worse…mm,” 

You felt the cold press of his teeth against your neck, and your pelvis tightened even more.

“But I don’t need to be.” Ren pulled back from the bite, smoothing his tongue over the sore flesh (as if he was apologising for it, something he would never do with words alone) as his hips drived harder and faster against yours, pushing you into a state of quasi delirium that felt just so good. “You’re just suuuuch a gooood girl, so I don’t need to force you to do anything at all, do I? …mmmh~”

“Hah-hah-hah,” You breathed out, wrapping an arm around his neck as you felt his touch descend to the soft folds of your pelvis, trying to push you open and give himself enough space to work his knot into. “T-Too much, ngh-!”

“See, you’re saying that…” He breathed out with an unsteady exhale, pulling back enough to look you in the eye, a broad, dirty grin on his face as his thrusting resumed, never pausing for even a second of respite. “But I’m hearing that I should do more. You just like to challenge me so much, don’t you?”

You suddenly cried out as he pressed into you completely, working his knot all the way inside of your cunt, his forehead pressed to yours as you grit your teeth from the painful stretch.

“Yeah, that’s it.” He praised you with another long exhale, smiling down at you, serenely, like you were doing something truly worthy of pride. “Just like that. Fuck, you’re clenching so hard,” His eyelids fluttered (the same as yours always did) as you tightened up around him, again, only forcing him to try and thrust deeper, push his knot even more inside of you. “That’s so good, baby, so good-!”

“Oh, Ren, Ren, fuck!” You cried out, digging your nails into his shoulders. “Yes, yes!”

“Yesss, you’re so good, you like that so much, don’t you?”

“I LOVE IT!!!”

[spyvstailor]

Need 70 More

Sorry to do this, guys, but even though I thought I placed a one time stop payment on a bill that was coming out, it came out anyways, so my bank account is now overdrawn. I need just 70 more to get to a comfortable spot in my friggin life. However! Good news is you all reached my original goal! So life is doing good things for me!

HUGE THANKS AND SHOUT OUT TO EVERYONE WHO DONATED AND REBLOGGED! SOME OF YOU GAVE LIKE WAY TOO GENEROUS FOR MY SHITTY WRITING AND IT DID NOT GO UNAPPRECIATED OR UNNOTICED! GOOD THINGS WILL COME TO YOU IN LIFE FOR YOUR GENEROSITY. I LOVE YOU GUYS!

Donate to my Paypal. Also I now have a Ko-Fi at the suggestion of someone dear to me, so here’s the link to that. It’s kind of barren right now, I’m working on it to offer people things they might like in order to earn my keep.

But as promised, here is my give so I may take. Chapter Two of Graveyard Dirt & Salt!

Chapter Two

The bell tower was covered in bird shit and looked like it was going to give him some kind of disease, but the view from it was worth the filth.

If he stood, with his back to the trees that grew in thick to the South of the convent, the back end as he'd come to call it, he could see straight down the cattle trail that lead from the convent gate, almost all the way down to the highway beyond the woods. To his right, to his left, to his hindquarters, was nothing but trees. Thick woods to give them cover.

They were both a blessing and a curse.

In his mind, if anyone took beef with them, the trees would be perfect cover for lurking invaders. But on the other hand, the trees kept their little convent a secret from the rest of the world.

Kicking some of the larger detritus out from his new nest, he unfurled his bedroll and began to make himself at home. If he stayed longer than a week, if he lasted longer than a week, he would give it a good, solid scrub down, but for now it was a place to sleep without worrying about having his ass snacked on.

Besides, he was pointedly warned against trying to settle into the cloister itself, the dorms where the nuns seemed to sleep. So he had to make his bed someplace other than the infirmary.

The clacking on the wooden ladder up to his perch alerted him to the fact someone was about to visit and he settled on his haunches, wanting to appear non-threatening to the woman who was about to appear.

A blonde head popped up into view, followed by a blue jumper dress.

The young nun carried with her a plate with bread smeared with what looked like honey and she smiled sweetly at him.

“Mother Mena wanted me to bring you some food, she said you'd be hungry.” The woman said.

“That's very sweet of you, thank you.”

Setting the plate in his lap, the woman turned to leave.

“So...tell me about you nuns here, what's your deal?” He called out to her, mostly desperate for some conversation after months of solitude.

The woman turned. “Oh...uh...well, what do you...um. I'm sorry, I'm Mary Elizabeth, I'm a novitiate, which means I haven't taken my vows yet. We're a Cisterian order, which means we value stability and simplicity.”

“And you don't ever...do anything beyond pray?”

“Well, we garden and take care of our chickens and hives, mostly we supply...well, we used to supply vegetables and peaches from our trees and eggs and honey and bees wax to the local farmer's market to support our convent. Most of our funds go to charity in the church, people starving in other countries, disaster relief. And we reflect, on God, on man, on everything in between.”

Splitting the bread slice in half, he handed her the larger piece and bit into his.

Mary Elizabeth took the offered piece with a shy grin and squatted down like a lady to join him, knees together, skirt covering anything inappropriate, one hand on her knees to ensure this.

“Is it really bad out there?” She asked as they chewed in silence. “Some of our order went to the market nearly half a year ago and never came back.”

He nodded. “I can't give you any hope, they're probably gone. Swept away with the dead.”

The woman's pretty little face puckered in dislike of that idea, but she soldiered on bravely.

“It's like Revelations. The dead rising. Scares the dickens out of me, if I'm honest.”

The woman was so sincere in her fear, as she rightly should be, but it troubled him to think of her now knowing the full extent of what was going on outside the convent walls. The Lieutenant had been forged by war overseas, by rigorous training and by all he had seen and done in his forty-three years and he couldn't imagine being in the dark while the whole world fell to pieces around you. Then again, he was always the one running into the danger, as others fled.

This slip of a girl, barely old enough to vote, it seemed, was scared of the rotting corpses that walked across the land and he understood how she could be. It was bigger than them, out of control, there was nothing left but the dead and the vultures who picked at the corpses of society. The wildfire had spread, the towns and holy places had fallen.

Downing the last morsel of his bread and honey, the Lieutenant stood up and pointed at her. “Well, either you're closing your eyes to a situation you do not wish to acknowledge or you are not aware of the calibre of disaster indicated by the presence of a pool table in your community.”

The woman clutched her hands together and beamed happily. “Oh! I love The Music Man!”

“Ya got trouble, my friend, right here, I say, trouble right here in River City,” he went on playfully.

Mary Elizabeth blushed shyly. “Mother Mena says you're the trouble around here.”

“She's getting a hunter and protector out of this deal. Missy should watch her tongue.” He returned, easing his ass against the railing and folding his arms.

“I'd better get going, I have to do the washing tonight and I wasn't really supposed to talk to you.”

“It was nice to talk with you regardless, Lizzie. But don't get yourself into trouble on my behalf.”

The woman giggled. “You too, Lieutenant. And I won't. I think it's uncharitable to pretend you don't exist. Seems a little cruel. Not that I judge Mother Mena! She's kind, she's just...scared, I think.”

“We're all scared. That's the human condition. Fear of being the prey to a greater predator and for the longest time man was at the top of the foodchain. Mind yourself going down now,” he cautioned, moving to offer her a hand down the ladder, before remembering that he wasn't to touch any of the nuns, so he drew his hand back quickly.

Mary Elizabeth beamed at him. “Thanks for the offer though. I like a gentleman.”

For days the Lieutenant hunted for the nuns, but he was like a ghost at the convent. The nuns saw him, the spoke of him in hushed whispers, but no one dared approach him.

He'd bring them an animal sacrifice and they'd send someone up to his tower with a plate for his share of the meal, but he was still awful lonely.

It had taken an entire week before another nun spoke to him.

“That is a household worth of baggage, Lieutenant.” She said.

He had just returned to the convent with a successful bounty, two ducks and a goose for dinner, when Sister Mary Agnes approached him. He had met her the other day when she was the one to bring him some food. He liked her matronly look.

“I got lucky,” he returned, preparing to clean the kills.

“I meant that pack on your back,” she said, kneeling beside him. “Doesn't it ever get awful heavy after all that walking?”

Glancing at his pack, the one he went everywhere with, he grinned. “It's my apartment. Everything I own is in that bag.”

“How on earth can a man travel with so much on his back? Don't you ever get tired?” She demanded.

“Mais, when you don't have a home, Sister, you make do. My apartment is on my back, ready at a moment's digging.”

The woman stopped them both, her dark eyes grave. “What's it like out there, Lieutenant? Really?”

“Hell on earth,” he admitted. “If it's not full of the dead, it's lonesome and abandoned. Torn apart like the aftermath of a child's temper tantrum. It's like walking through a bad dream.”

“Sounds like things are bad.”

“Worse. Whatever you're thinking, it's worse.”

Mary Agnes frowned. “I sometimes wonder why, when everything has turned to dust, we're left here holding the bag, as it were.”

“We're the survivors,” he explained. “It takes a lot of hard work to become the survivors. A lot of loss and a lot of pain, but we're here.”

“I suppose that makes sense. They always said the broken ones triumph.” She nudged him kindly. “So what broke you?”

For a second he was thrown, gunshots echoed in his memory. Shouting and verbal abuse, memories of his mother, of everything that had shaped him came flooding to the forefront of his mind, before he managed to recover himself.

“Why, sister,” he teased. “We are all broken children under God's eyes. Doesn't take much more than a dead dog or a bully in our childhoods.”

“I pried,” she returned simply. “I'm sorry. But humour will only deflect for so long, Lieutenant.”

“Mais,” he sighed. “It lasts long enough though.”

He was on the wall later that evening, watching an uggie as it shambled from out of the woods towards the wall he was on.

Poor little lady in her bathrobe, one slipper still on, the other long gone.

“Didn't expect to be caught in your jammies, huh?” He asked the thing.

It grunted and made a mad dive for the wall just under him, hands clawing at the stones.

“Never actually thought people even wore bathrobes,” he went on calmly. “Maybe I should start wearing one. Look like one of those old Hollywood actors. Cary Grant, yeah?”

“What on earth on you doing up there?” Missy asked from the ground behind him.

“Bird watching,” he returned casually. “Wanna come up?”

“And fall off that wall and break my tail in this habit? I think I'll pass on the offer. Being up there in jeans is one thing, but this habit is a wind catcher for sure.”

Turning around he held out his hand to her. “Come on. I won't let you fall.”

Hitching her robes to her, she moved to a spot where she must have propped an old ladder in order to climb up.

He moved to help her onto the wall, once more forgetting that he couldn't touch the nuns.

She held out her hand as he moved to grasp her elbow and stood on the wall, peering down at the uggie in her jammies.

“Do you suppose they're in pain?” She asked.

“I don't think so, think they're running on instinct and nothing else.” He said, running his hand over the butt of his rifle a little nervously, ready to steady Missy at a moment should she prove correct and the wind grab her. “Reminds me of this fact I heard about octopi and how if you put their corpse by salt their little tentacles react, but they're dead as rocks. Like that, I suppose. Them folks in Japan eating them basically raw, and their little tentacles grab at them chopsticks. Little undead squiggles putting up a fight.”

“This is a person,” she murmured. “She had things to do, goals and dreams.”

“We're all born astride the grave.” He stated.

Handing her his rifle, he pulled out his knife and jumping off the wall, over the thing, he came up behind her and knocked the uggie against the stones, holding her there so he could drive his knife into the base of her skull. It sunk heavily to the ground and he eased the poor woman back into a dignified laying position. Kneeling by the corpse, he wiped his knife blade on her bathrobe, before looking up to find the nun peering down at him quietly.

“Do you want a hand with her?” She asked.

He moved to help her down, his large hand sliding around her waist so that she could hop against him to break her fall somewhat, the other day she had precariously climbed down and nearly fell, today she was wearing her full habit, she offered him a hard look as he set her on her feet.

“That had better been my only option of dismount,” she warned him.

“Unless you want to break your neck today, then yes, ma'am.”

Kneeling over the corpse, Missy pushed the woman's hair out of her face and peered upon the rotted visage.

“Last rites?” He joked.

“I can't give those,” she said. “I just wanted to look at the poor woman. I killed so many of these the past few weeks, I never had a chance to pause and give thought to them. I honestly thought it was for the best to put them out of their misery. They are abominations after all, but they were once God's children.”

Kneeling with her, the Lieutenant nodded. “Bet she was someone's mama. She looks like a mama.”

“I hope her babies are alright, but from what you tell me, I don't imagine they are.” She was quiet for the longest time, before adding, “you'll keep my girls safe, won't you?”

“If you want me to,” he replied. “I haven't got anywhere to be.”

She looked at him for the longest time, those pretty blue eyes of hers shining and hard, despite being the bluest things he had ever seen. Set against her white chocolate skin and framed by luscious dark lashes, she was hell in a habit. If he had to gauge an age on her, he would wager she was around the same age as him, maybe a little younger. She certainly aged well if she were any older, and maybe she had, she was in charge of her convent, after all, and it took a while to advance in any profession.

“Then if you advise me on how to keep them safe, I will listen, but I will not compromise our faith for anything. The bell will stay silent, and we will do a patrol of the wall, but I will not expect any of my girls to harm anyone or anything without knowing for certain that it won't damn them. Some of my nuns still have their faith and I want them to keep it strong.”

“Fair enough,” the returned with a grin, holding out a hand to shake.

She considered it for a moment.

“Nobody went to hell for shaking a Cajun's hand,” he teased.

“Yet,” she murmured with a very, very small shine in her eyes.

Reconsidering his dirty hand, the Lieutenant wiped it on the front of his shirt, before offering it again.

This time she took it, shaking gently.

“You know this reminds me of this story my mamere used to tell me,” he explained, grunting as he scooped up the dead woman. “About this--”

“Sorry, your 'mamere'?” Missy interrupted.

“My granny.” He said, moving the corpse onto the muddy cattle trail of a road leading up to the convent gate where a fire would burn better without starting the woods ablaze. If they were going to keep collecting bodies, he would have to begin burning them. That pile in the woods would soon be doing nobody no good. “She used to tell me about this old man named Gilliam, used to beat the hell out of his old hound. Never deserved the poor thing, so one night, my...uh...granddaddy, he goes over, dead of night, dark as Hades--”

“I don't mean to cut your tale off at the root, I'm certain it's a wonderful parable, Mister Lieutenant, but we are about to burn a body here? Perhaps some wise words or none at all?” Missy suggested.

The Lieutenant was quiet, settling the corpse up in the middle of the muddy trail, before reaching for his lighter. He set the woman ablaze, burning her clothing, knowing full well the parchment paper flesh that remained on her corpse would go up in smoke easily.

Standing back, he glanced around cautiously, knowing that uggies liked to pop up when least expected.

Finding them alone, he turned his attention back to the burning body.

“Uh, dearly beloveds we are gathered here today to, uh, burn this--”

“Are you marrying the corpse or laying her to rest, Lieutenant?” The woman demanded with another very small twinkle in her eye.

“Mais, girl, go easy on me. I ain't a priest.”

“Honey, even the heathens had idols they worshipped before the Christian God,” she pointed out.

“So I'm lesser than a heathen and yet greater then a toad, yeah?” He winked at her.

As the smoke began to choke them with the scent of burning flesh, the nun turned on her heel and headed back to the wall, hiking her hem up as she went tiptoeing through the mud.

“You're certainly bigger than a toad,” she said. “Now use that might and give me a hand up and over, please?”

She squealed an undignified and rather girlish noise as the Lieutenant came up behind her and scooped her up and at the wall with his hands.

“Mind your hands,” she warned coolly as soon as she recovered her dignity.

“Sorry,” he said easily, shifting his left hand from where it cupped her inner thigh, “there's so much skirt to you that I wasn't sure where the safest place to stick my hand was at. I guess I aimed wrong.”

“I nearly had to abandon my vows for you to make an honest woman of me,” she declared, hoisting herself up onto the wall.

Beaming up at her, the Lieutenant said, “hey, now, Missy. Mind your tongue before the devil cuts it off.”

As soon as she was safely on the wall, he said, “now hand me that rifle you got.”

“Aren't you coming up?”

“Well, I promised you some venison now didn't I?”

“This late? Lieutenant, it's almost dark.”

“Best time of day to hunt for deer, yeah?” He winked at her and held out his hand for the gun.

That night the Lieutenant stood in his bell tower watching over the land.

He had to admit, at night like this, with only the cicadas chittering, the ruined world was beautiful still.

As much as he loved people, he enjoyed his solitude as well and with the stars in the sky and the land absolutely still, he was able to just think his thoughts.

“If it keeps on rainin', levees gonna break,” he sung to himself, wandering around the small perimeter of the bell tower, watching all sides for anything moving in the shadows below. Raising the rifle he peered down the scope at something that shifted, it appeared to be shrubs and the wind. “If it keeps on rainin', levees gonna break.”

In the woods he knew they were there, lurking, shuffling, ambling, tripping up and falling. Maws open to devour whatever they fell upon, hands clenched into death claws at their sides, the muscles having retracted and dried up in death.

“And the water gonna come and we'll have no place to stay,” he lowered the rifle as an uggie emerged from the woods.

It was just a shadow really, shuffling from the darkness, finding the wall with its chest, bouncing back and staggering to regain its footing. For a moment, the thing stood dumbly, head bent down, before it seemed to lift its chin and sniff the air.

It wasn't worth it for him to shoot the thing, his gun wasn't much use at times like this, the sound only drawing more to his location, but he liked to use the scope to watch as the dumb thing sort of collapsed against the wall.

From his perspective, he could only see the top of its head, but the manic bobbing told him it had caught their scent and was trying to find a hole in the wall to get at dinner.

Tomorrow he would have to reinforce the wall properly, a few sharp sticks, some hole traps, anything to give them an edge on the dead. He'd head into the nearby town to find something that still drove that he could back against the wrought iron gate.

He wasn't sure about that one, most of the time the vehicles didn't turn over at all. Having never pondered it, he supposed that maybe the gasoline had gone south. He knew it could stale, had tried to drive old lawnmowers enough times to know you had to drain the gas out from the tank if you weren't planning on using them for a good, long while.

Maybe he'd find one though. He only needed her to limp to the convent, it didn't need to win no races.

“Good morning, Lieutenant.”

He had emerged from the church the next morning to Sisters Dymphna, Felicity Perpetua and Mary Claire standing around the steps in the cool shade of the north side.

“Good morning, ladies,” he returned. “Aren't y'all not supposed to talk to me?”

“Only when Mother Mena's not around,” Dymphna replied, her brown eyes sparkling. “Are you heading out?”

“I was planning on doing a little work on the wall today. Did you need me to head out for something?” He asked, coming to stand in the little clutch with them. So far he had found the younger nuns more receptive to his presence than the older ones.

Except for Sisters Gertrude and Boniface, he adored Gertrude and her cats and Sister Boniface was a Quebecois French woman, so he felt a sort of kindred spirit in her.

“Maybe we wanted to do something for you for once,” Sister Mary Claire said with a smile that could brighten a stormy day.

“Something for me?”

Sister Felicity Perpetua, who had been standing with her hands behind her back, produced a child's lunch kit and held it out to him proudly. “We made you a lunch if you're planning on leaving.”

“You have to stay strong,” Sister Mary Claire added. “An army marches on its stomach.”

“Plus, you know, we appreciate you being here for us.” Dymphna added.

There was something sincere in their eyes, something which made the Lieutenant give a slight, unsure pause, before he accepted the lunch kit.

“Thank you,” he said. “I'm going to be just outside the wall working on it today, but maybe at some point I might hike it into the nearby town, see if I can find a big enough truck or some kind of van maybe.”

“What for?” Felicity Perpetua asked.

He motioned for the nuns to follow him towards the gate. They all stopped before it and he motioned with the hand holding his lunch at the rusty gate. “She's solid enough, but old and if enough of those things out there pushed against her at once she could go. I'm going to back a heavy girl up against her and reinforce it.”

The nuns were quiet for a bit, before Dymphna said, “I'm going with you.”

“Nope,” he declared firmly.

“Yes,” she insisted. “You can't go into the town alone with those things out there.”

“I lived this long on my own, I'll be fine.” He stated. “You nuns don't go anywhere outside these walls without me. My job is to keep you safe, your job is to make my job easier by staying here and being your cute little selves.”

“What if something happened to you?” Felicity Perpetua whispered. “My soul would know no peace.”

“Don't you have chores?” Someone asked from behind them, causing a couple of the nuns to jump.

Sister Thomas Aquinas, a stern faced woman of about seventy stood behind them, her arms full of blankets.

The three nuns all ducked out quickly, but not before Dymphna grasped his forearm with a strong, small brown hand.

Looking at him with a hard, glittering stare, the older nun seemed to be sizing him up for a moment, before handing him the blankets.

“Here,” she said. “We found some of these to spare. I thought you might like to keep yourself warmer up in that bell tower.”

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” she said tersely, before turning and walking off, muttering to herself about a 'fox in the hen house'.

He missed the days when he could go out into the woods and just sit and enjoy the peace.

Now, whenever he was in the woods, he was vulnerable and on edge. Always prepared for something to stagger out of the underbrush.

There was a time, when he was a boy, he'd duck into the woods by his rural home near Eunice, what wasn't swampy bayou, was pretty little woods filled mostly with cypress and oak trees, the forest floor was always good and moist, carpeted with the soft needles that the bald cypress trees shed.

The smell of the forest was always the way he found peace. That scent of good, clean country air, with a little harmless stank from the bayou, coupled with the scent of the damp earth. It was home sure enough and he missed it.

Georgia had it's own smell. Less bayou, more fresh water on the air. Rivers and streams and creeks. Nothing like the stagnant scent of the swamp.

He supposed, it was perhaps a little more fresher air, though it just wasn't home and that made all the difference.

Georgia was True Love Ways compared to Louisiana's Oh Boy, if Buddy Holly songs could be used to compare the two. Both good songs, though one was a little more melodic and slow-paced, the other had a bit more get-up-and-go.

“Boy, what are you doing to my wall?”

The voice came from above him on the wall and he looked up to find a furious nun standing there, swaying a little unsteadily in her habit and the mild wind.

“Just reinforcing it, Missy,” he said.

Philomena sighed. “We look like an ancient castle with these sharp sticks poking out.”

Stepping back, he admired his work and nodded. “Yeah, palisades, that's where I got the idea. Figured if it kept them old Celt tribes out, it'd work for us.”

“It doesn't look very inviting,” she muttered.

“It's not supposed to be a welcome mat,” he replied.

“Well, I suppose that's fine, just please don't hoist yourself on your own petard,” she said after a moment of thought.

He wiped his hands off and dug through his pack for the lunch the nuns had packed him. “You up there for a reason?”

“Sister Mary Claire says some of the younger nuns expressed interest in helping you outside these walls.”

“And you want to slap my wrist for tempting them?” He used the gate to climb onto the wall and sat beside her to eat his lunch.

“Not entirely,” she admitted, easing down a little clumsily beside him. “I think...well maybe you could be permitted to teach those of us interested in a few ways to defend ourselves from the abominations.”

Plucking a half a carrot out of his mouth, he crunched on the other half for a good long while. It was so delicious. He had forgotten what fresh veggies tasted like.

“Really?” He finally asked.

She stared off down the cattle trail before them, and he followed her gaze. The path was hung over with oak branches and Spanish moss, pretty for the late summer, but it was tainted by the dead. Always and forever tainted now. Somewhere out there in those pretty trees and green shrubs they ambled and shuffled and staggered and crawled, gnashing and drooling for their next meal. And somehow it worried him more to think about them in the broad daylight, then at night where all the boogins and monsters belonged.

He supposed those uggies all had hopes and dreams and plans set aside now for one thing and one thing only. Same as him, same as the woman sitting beside him, same as all the nuns in the convent behind them.

“Our wills and fates do so contrary run,” he began with a sigh, reminded by something she had said earlier.

Beside him Missy was quiet still, eyes on the world beyond her walls. “You're well read, for a soldier.”

“I'm sure you had to read Hamlet in high school too,” he teased. “A lot of it just stuck with me, I suppose. Don't be fooled,” he went on with a grin, “I'm just a simple country boy from the bayou.”

“I grew up in Savannah,” she said. “Have you ever been?”

“No,” he admitted. “Didn't get a chance before all this and I damned well won't go now. It'll be overrun.”

“We've been so secluded here,” she admitted gently. “I thought though, that someday I would be transferred out to a school or a...missionary, but I suppose this is my life now.” She hurried to add, “not that I'm complaining. I will bear this with grace, only that I miss the outside world, God's real world out there. Art and books, beauty created by the hands of His creatures, so much lost now.”

The Lieutenant stared at the woman as she continued to gaze wistfully out at the trees. He was so struck by how easy she made being beautiful look. “Has anyone ever told you that you that you look like Vivian Leigh?” He asked.

For a moment, the woman's face read irritated, then puzzled, before she finally smiled sweetly and looked down. “Tell me, Mister Lieutenant, is it nature or force that compels you to flirt with every woman you meet?”

“Sometimes it's not just women,” he teased.

“Oh!” She offered him a scolding look, though her face was still mostly smiles and amusement.

He beamed.