Caged 2/4
It was two weeks before Creed came back. Two long weeks of waiting, talking to himself and doing push ups.
Scott was thankful for the long absence. He didn’t know if he could have handled Victor pawing at him after that disaster at the lake. Scott’s face still heated when he thought about it, how he had cried like a little girl and had been so pathetic that not even an animal like Creed wanted to touch him. He was glad to have kept himself intact after that but it wasn’t one of his proudest moments.
Creed came around mid day. The door opened and Scott didn’t even bother to rise or look up.
“Not talking to me.” Creed laughed, in one of his morbidly humorous moods. “I’m hurt. And after I went through all that trouble getting you a present.” Scott looked up. “Do you want your present?”
“What is it?” Scott asked.
“Oh no, you have to say yes first.” A pause and then: “Don’t you trust me.”
To Scott’s surprise his mouth turned up into a tiny smile. “No.”
“Pity.”
“I want the present.”
Scott could almost hear Creed grinning. He hoped this wasn’t a joke or some sort of cruel prank. “Close your eyes.”
Scott complied, knowing what was coming next. Creed removed his metal visor with a few deft moves of his hands and Scott was left feeling strangely incomplete as the weight was lifted from his face and the skin around his eyes was exposed for the first time in nearly a month. He kept his eyes tightly clenched and waited.
Creed took his sweet time in placing thin, metal frames on his face. “Open your eyes.” Slowly Scott’s eyes cracked open and he saw the fuzzy face of his captor. “Your eyes will adjust soon.”
They did and Creed’s face slowly came into focus. He was almost more frightening than Scott had remembered. Time had softened his image in Scott’s mind and all that time talking to a nearly disembodied voice had made him it easy to pretend he wasn’t so.... animal-like.
A hard, heavily creased face faced his own; framed by short brown hair and unkempt mutton chops. Hard amber eyes stared at him with an intensity that made Scott uncomfortable. The man’s face was intimidating but his body more so - he was enormous. Tall and barrel-chested with thick arms corded with muscle and wickedly sharp claws.
As Scott’s face drained of blood at the sight of him Creed smiled, fangs peeking out and giving him a sinister, bestial look. He was sure it wasn’t intended to be a frightening look but the man couldn’t look anything but frightening.
“You’re welcome.”
Scott blinked and then suddenly realized exactly what it was Creed had done for him. He had given Scott his sight back; he hadn’t asked for this, Creed had just done it. “Thank you.” He murmured, astonished.
“Follow me.” Creed said, beckoning him with a wave of his hand.
Scott followed, still bewildered with his new vision. It wasn’t until they exited the compound that Scott’s stomach clenched and his footsteps faltered. He continued to follow the man to the lake’s edge. When Creed stopped so did he.
“Come here,” Creed said. Scott obeyed, standing in front of the large man. “Look at me.” Scott obeyed and when Creeds hands came up to his face his stomach sank. “I won’t be denied twice. I want to see your eyes as I take you.”
Scott couldn’t describe the sense of betrayal he felt when Creed said those words. Or his shame at his own stupidity for believing Creed would do something unselfish without expecting something in return. When Creed pushed him to the ground and Scott felt that sickeningly familiar feeling of dread, it was too much. He wanted to lash out, make Creed stop and that’s when it clicked. He could see.
He could run.
Creed realized what he was doing a moment too late to stop Scott from tearing off his glasses and catching Creed point blank in the face with his optic blasts. The force of the untempered energy threw the man back and off of Scott who quickly scrambled to his feet and put his glasses back on in time to see Creed glaring at him through one good eye with a murderous rage.
The older man was just about to stand when Scott delivered another blast that sent Creed hurtling through the air and into the lake. He disappeared from view and Scott didn’t stick around to see if he was going to get back up again. He turned in the opposite direction of the compound and began running. He had never run so fast in his life but the thought of what was waiting for him if he failed to get away was enough to push aside any fatigue.
Scott plunged into the Canadian wilderness head first and battled his way through dense foliage, ferns, and the enormous moss covered trees of the ancient rainforest. Everything was damp and Scott was soon covered in water and sweat. It felt good.
After a few minutes he began to think he might have a real chance of escaping.
Until a roar cut through the silence of the forest.
Though the roar sounded like it came from the throat of a wildcat he knew what it was. A very pissed off Creed who sounded angry enough to tear someone’s head off.
Scott now began running like his life depended on it ... and it did. Unfortunately he was extremely out of shape after having spent a good month locked almost exclusively in a tiny cell and was already beginning to tire. His heart was thumping like a drum as he tore through the forest. Despite his best effort it wasn’t enough, a small teenager who hadn’t walked more than 5 minutes in almost a month was no match for someone who was born to hunt, born to track.
It didn’t take long for the sound of Creed barrelling through the forest to make its way to Scott.
He looked behind him quickly and his heart jumped. Creed was on all fours, claws extended, fangs bared, not grinning. He looked rough; bloodied, wet and partially exposed to the elements where the optic blasts had torn through his clothes.
Scott turned suddenly at the base of a tall conifer, weaving through the trees and scrambling through tightly packed areas that Creed would have to go around. The angry snarls behind him told him he was succeeding. Creed was too big to fit between some of the trees and to crawl under the dense foliage and was forced to make a wide circle, giving Scott time to get ahead. It wasn’t enough; he had to find a way to escape.
It was by sheer dumb luck that his only hope of getting out alive was right in his path. A tree, the largest he had seen yet with a tiny crack running through the trunk that looked hollowed out. Scott didn’t even have time to think as Creed was nearly upon him; he dove straight for the trunk and dropped to his belly, squirming through the mud into the narrow provided by the roots. He made it just in time. Creed’s claws scraped bloody trails across his ankle but weren’t able to stop him.
Scott huddled in the small area of the hollow tree, gasping for breath and shaking with adrenaline as Creeds good eye smouldered through the small crack in the tree trunk at him.
The large man studied the tree, smashing his fist against the solid trunk, sniffing and making horrible animalistic sounds. He sounded like he had forgotten he was human.
The tree was damp and muddy on the inside, webs stuck to Scott’s hair and his mud and rain soaked frame shivered as the adrenaline wore off. He was exhausted and sore and somehow even his near miss at death didn’t make him feel any better. He was completely trapped, stuck in a tiny, wet tree hollow with no food, no fire, just his soaked clothes.
Creed wasn’t any happier, looking for all the world like he was about to explode with rage. He hadn’t spoken since Scott had injured him. And injured he was, one eye was either missing or burned shut, Scott couldn’t tell which, his body was half seared and looked painfully raw. His skin was tinged red where the rain had made the blood run thin and he was favouring his left leg. Creed looked the worse for wear but it hadn’t slowed him down any and Scott could already see his healing powers going to work.
He would live ... Scott wasn’t sure he could say the same for himself.
“Let me go.” He panted. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Creed simply smiled nastily at him and replied in a husky undertone: “When you come out I’ll be waiting.”
And wait he did. Planting himself just outside the tree, crouching as still as a statue and keeping his eyes fixed on Scott through the tiny opening.
They both knew if he really wanted he could tear the trunk apart and simply drag Scott out but he seemed to get pleasure from the hunt. From stalking and patience. Scott didn’t let the tiny smile fool him; Creed was counting the minutes until his prey caved in and accepted his death.
“Do you know what I’m going to do with you when you finally give up?”
Scott grit his teeth. “Let me guess, you’re going to kill me.”
“Not right away. First, I’m going to finish what I started. When I’m done with you you’ll wish you were dead. After I’m through I’m going to skin you, piece by piece with these-.” He flexed his claws, extending them. “I’ll make you squeal like a pig. Your death isn’t going to be fast, I’ll make you feel it, every last bit of it. You’ll beg for death.”
“Will you?” Scott whispered.
“Will I what?”
“Kill me if I beg?”
Creed beamed at Scott, a disarming look that made him look years younger. “No, I won’t. Insects will begin to eat you while you’re still alive, you know. It will take you hours to die, maybe even days if the shock doesn’t get you first.”
Scott huddled in deeper. “You’re just trying to scare me.”
“Am I?” He cracked his knuckles.
They both fell silent as night began to fall. The temperature dropped and Scott began shivering, only a little at first but soon his teeth were chattering and he began rocking back and forth to keep warm.
“Cold?” Creed asked pleasantly. Scott didn’t respond. “Your clothes are wet. You should take them off.”
“S-s-shut up.” Scott hissed but took the advice and began removing his damp jacket and pants until he was in his undershirt and Y-fronts.
“Mmmm. You look good enough to eat.” Creed snapped his teeth at Scott who recoiled and began rubbing his clammy arms vigorously. “Do you know I don’t get cold? I’ve swam in arctic waters, hunted elk in northern Canada ... hunting just isn’t the same when you’re wearing clothes. Advanced self regulating body temperature, no matter how cold it gets, I won’t feel it.”
“Why are y-you t-telling me this?”
“I could warm you.” Creed purred suggestively.
“G-go to hell.”
A growl and then: “Suit yourself.”
Scott fell into an uneasy sleep and was suddenly woken with a cry by Creed slamming his fist into the tree trunk with a sharp crack. The man laughed and moved back into his position. This happened twice more before Scott realized he wasn’t going to let him sleep. It was late into the night when a strange yet familiar rumbling sound began. It was a deep, rhythmic noise that wasn’t unpleasant, Scott was lulled into a state of almost sleep before he realized why it sounded so familiar. It was the sound of a cat purring.
“I once went to a museum.”
The purring stopped. “Oh?”
“They were having an exhibit on pre-historic animals. I saw a T-Rex and there. There was an Ice-Age exhibit too ... I remember in the middle of the room they had the skeleton of a Sabretooth Tiger. I had never seen anything like it. It was my favourite skeleton, those teeth, they didn’t look real. You reminded me of that. You look like a cat, you move like a cat, you even purr like a cat but you aren’t one, are you? You’re a tiger.”
“Sabretooth.” Creed murmured thoughtfully. “I like it. It’s catchy.”
“Don’t kill me.”
“Are we starting this again?”
“I’ll give you what you want. I won’t fight.”
“I want you to fight.”
“No you don’t. You’re not like that, you like your prey to give in.”
“Don’t tell me what I’m like.” Creed snapped, sounding annoyed.
“Please ... I’m so cold. I’m hungry. I want to go back. I’ll let you do it. Just ... just don’t kill me. I don’t want to die.”
“You attacked me.”
“You’ll heal. I won’t.”
A long pause followed and finally Creed spoke up. “Fair enough. Blood for blood. No more, no less.”
“You won’t kill me?”
“I’ll give no more to you than you gave to me.”
Scott felt sick to his stomach but knew that was probably the best he was going to get. He might have been able to last another day the way they were going but he knew he would succumb eventually to hunger, cold and sleep deprivation. Better to do this now, on his terms before he grew desperate. He just hoped Creed was a man of his word.
With a deep breath Scott grabbed his clothes and shimmied out of the tree hollow.
Once free he knelt in the mud, wanting nothing more than to crawl back. Scott clutched his shirt in a white knuckled grip and shivered.
“Come here.”
Slowly Scott crawled the short distance. It was nearly pitch black in the forest and he didn’t see Creed until he was almost touching him. He knelt and prayed.
Hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him close. Scott was pressed against the hard, bare chest and melted into it. He was warm, like an oven. Hands rubbed his arms and back and slowly Scott started to unwind and lay his head down, feeling the powerful heartbeat pulsing underneath Creeds skin. It felt so good to be warm, if not dry. He lay, curled in the big man surprisingly gentle embrace and tried to ignore when Creed lowered his mouth to his neck.
It happened hard and fast. Creed gave no room for Scott’s hesitation, his pain; he lowered the boy down onto the damp ground, lay atop him and made him bleed. Teeth tore at his neck and he was torn from the inside with hard, unforgiving jabs. The nightmare that was his first time lasted until the sun came up. Creed pleasured himself in every way, in every position, and was insatiable and untiring. Long after Scott had ceased to move and simply lay; staring up into the slowly lightening canopy above, Creed continued rutting. Over and over until the boys’ lower half had gone numb, his body no longer reacting to the trauma, tears dried and his mind somewhere far away.
Only after the sun first peeked from the horizon did Creed spend himself once more and collapsed, half propped up to keep him from crushing the smaller body.
Scott released a small shuddering breath. It was over. He felt sick and weak but it was over. He just wanted to sleep now and began slowly drifting off when Creed patted his cheek.
“Don’t sleep. We’re going back.”
“I don’t feel well.” Scott rasped, voice hoarse and scratchy.
“I know.” Creed leaned down and touched Scoots forehead with his own. “It had to be done. Blood for blood. You’ve paid your price; you can rest when we get back.”
Scott closed his eyes, tears squeezing from beneath the clenched lids, and raised his hands to Creeds face. He held the man’s face in his hands, even when Creed pulled back and stared intently at Scott who opened his eyes and stared back. He began slowly tracing the older man’s face, the lines in his face, evidence of his hard life, the rigid planes of his face, his nose, cheeks, eyebrows, and lips.
His eye was healed, Scott realized dimly. At least mostly, it was milky white, like an old mans but it wasn’t a sunken socket anymore. He really could heal.
Creed didn’t stop the gentle exploration, seemingly paralyzed by those hands.
The dazed boy slowly parted the mans lips and touched his fangs, tracing the sharp edges. Hands gripped Scotts and pushed them away.
“Stop that.” He scooped Scott into his arms and stood. The boy curled against him and burrowed against his chest, trying to stay warm and then seemed to drift off.