I'd love to kill you by a stream, where no one can hear my baby scream
Characters: AU!Jay and AU!Benny!
Date&Time: August 13th, early morning.
Setting: The Love Shack
Summary: The Guthries are feared for a reason.
Rating: Torture, Mind Fuckery - body parts will be removed.
Status: CLOSED
The first time that Jessica Guthrie saw Benjamin Westwood, she was eleven years old, and he was ten. It's a rare treat for someone to be able to say that they died the day they met someone. Not because it is rare- ask the thousands and millions of graves in any vet cemetery, but for someone to be able to say it, out loud and at will. That was rare.
He had been the one to discover her lack of mortality, and as far as she knew? Only he and Sam knew how far it had brought her back from. Sure, her bosses of the past and rumors around campfires had said that you can't kill a Guthrie- but none had been so literal as it required. Ben had tried, and failed.
He hadn't gone by Ben at the time though, some nick-name or middle name that was not in their files, so it was no fault of her own that she hadn't put two and two together when it came to their first and foremost prisoner. He had been sedated since their first conversation, sleeping like a dislocated angel in one of the several mattresses on the floor.
The bed he originally had claimed was taken up by children, five of them all under their own forms of medication and far away from the troubling land of reality.
It had been Sam who brought it up after she and Jeb came back from putting him under and replacing the wiring. That grin he wore spreading so far that it seemed to touch each ear. "You know who that is, don'tcha sis?" He asked.
Her eyebrows went up. "Benjamin Westwood- fuck buddy of the targets?"
"Nooo." He was laughing now- as was Lizzie and Melodie, already let in on the joke. "In that room over there? Is your very very first boyfriend. Remember Bellevue?"
The siblings erupted in laughter- all informed of the stories of little eleven year old Jessica telling her 'big brother Sammy' how 'cute' that killer was after dropping him off.
The joke was lost on Jessica. They let him sleep the rest of the night and into the morning after. Purchasing another room, a few rows down from any 'legitimate' guests, they moved him at nightfall. This was to be a more private conversation, and they had no interest in anyone over-hearing his screams. For Ben would scream, God willing. Ben would scream. It was a carbon copy of his previous location- the same yellow curtains, the same slightly stained mattress- only this room lacked the lived-in presence. The smell of food cooking or the general life that people in a small area tends to bring with them. No, this room was practically sterile- or sterile enough for their purposes.
When he woke, he would be sitting, unbound from his jacket and placed in a kitchen-style chair. A belt would have been placed around his shoulders to keep him in line, as well as around his ankles. They let his arms rest where they lay- still useless and out of socket. There were horror stories about what happened to those who were captured by the Guthries. And while up til now, they had played nice- kept it PG for the children, tonight would be so so different. Jessica took a seat across from him, dressed in more formal attire with her 'tool-box' sitting on the bed-side table next to them both. Melodie might take special interest in taking someone apart- Lizzie in breaking them and Sam in dominating... but Jessica? Jessica was the one to let them unravel.
"Benny?" She asked quietly, letting a hand reach up to hold his cheek gently, like had almost a decade before. "You're going to wake up now."
Date&Time: August 13th, early morning.
Setting: The Love Shack
Summary: The Guthries are feared for a reason.
Rating: Torture, Mind Fuckery - body parts will be removed.
Status: CLOSED
The first time that Jessica Guthrie saw Benjamin Westwood, she was eleven years old, and he was ten. It's a rare treat for someone to be able to say that they died the day they met someone. Not because it is rare- ask the thousands and millions of graves in any vet cemetery, but for someone to be able to say it, out loud and at will. That was rare.
He had been the one to discover her lack of mortality, and as far as she knew? Only he and Sam knew how far it had brought her back from. Sure, her bosses of the past and rumors around campfires had said that you can't kill a Guthrie- but none had been so literal as it required. Ben had tried, and failed.
He hadn't gone by Ben at the time though, some nick-name or middle name that was not in their files, so it was no fault of her own that she hadn't put two and two together when it came to their first and foremost prisoner. He had been sedated since their first conversation, sleeping like a dislocated angel in one of the several mattresses on the floor.
The bed he originally had claimed was taken up by children, five of them all under their own forms of medication and far away from the troubling land of reality.
It had been Sam who brought it up after she and Jeb came back from putting him under and replacing the wiring. That grin he wore spreading so far that it seemed to touch each ear. "You know who that is, don'tcha sis?" He asked.
Her eyebrows went up. "Benjamin Westwood- fuck buddy of the targets?"
"Nooo." He was laughing now- as was Lizzie and Melodie, already let in on the joke. "In that room over there? Is your very very first boyfriend. Remember Bellevue?"
The siblings erupted in laughter- all informed of the stories of little eleven year old Jessica telling her 'big brother Sammy' how 'cute' that killer was after dropping him off.
The joke was lost on Jessica. They let him sleep the rest of the night and into the morning after. Purchasing another room, a few rows down from any 'legitimate' guests, they moved him at nightfall. This was to be a more private conversation, and they had no interest in anyone over-hearing his screams. For Ben would scream, God willing. Ben would scream. It was a carbon copy of his previous location- the same yellow curtains, the same slightly stained mattress- only this room lacked the lived-in presence. The smell of food cooking or the general life that people in a small area tends to bring with them. No, this room was practically sterile- or sterile enough for their purposes.
When he woke, he would be sitting, unbound from his jacket and placed in a kitchen-style chair. A belt would have been placed around his shoulders to keep him in line, as well as around his ankles. They let his arms rest where they lay- still useless and out of socket. There were horror stories about what happened to those who were captured by the Guthries. And while up til now, they had played nice- kept it PG for the children, tonight would be so so different. Jessica took a seat across from him, dressed in more formal attire with her 'tool-box' sitting on the bed-side table next to them both. Melodie might take special interest in taking someone apart- Lizzie in breaking them and Sam in dominating... but Jessica? Jessica was the one to let them unravel.
"Benny?" She asked quietly, letting a hand reach up to hold his cheek gently, like had almost a decade before. "You're going to wake up now."