Quee Chapter 6

Quee
A romantic tale of a homicidal maniac.
By Brittany Kistler

Chapter 6
"YOU FUCKIN' SICK FREAK!" I found myself on the floor.  I was being repeatedly kicked in the stomach and legs.  I coughed and and curled myself into a ball of protection, covering my head with my hands.  I was yanked off the floor onto my knees by my hair and socked in the face.  "How does it feel?  You sick ass twisted motherfucker!"  I was pulled up completly to find my face being bashed into a wall.  My hair was let go of and I hit the ground.  "Time to get your pretty little girl friend." the person growled and stormed off.  
Wittany screamed and cursed in a distance.  My body slowly lifted itself up aided by the sound of her distressed voice and made its way slowly and painfully to her.  My left eye was pasted shut by the puss secreted to heal it...but as I stumbled into the bedroom I could see very well what was going on.  
The escapee had ahold of Wittany by the arm and was smacking her around.  When she hit the floor I had enough of it!  I mustered all of the energy I could and hurled my body at him with full force.  It knocked us both into the nightstand by the bed.  My hand gripped his neck and threw him to the ground.  I threw my body ontop of his to wrestle him down good.  Squirming and writhing beneith my body he fought and twisted, grunting and screaming curses at me until his energy dwindled down along with my own.  When he practically gave up I grabbed his head and threw it sharply to the left, causing a loud *snap* in his neck.  Panting and sweating I rolled off him onto my back, looking at the oakwood ceiling.  Everything slowly went black...and it seemed reality was fading away.  
"Quee...please wake up.  Do something to let me know that you are alive..." I opened my eye to see Wittany leaning over me.  "Ah, good to see you're alive..." she said with a bit of sarcasm in her tone.  I tried to get up but pain racked my body all over.  I was laying down on the bed, shirtless nevertheless.  She was softly taking care of my cuts, and my left nipple...the ring was almost ripped out.  She must have snooped around to find the bathroom, because that's where I kept all the medical supplies.  I groaned in pain when she applied the bactine, because it stung and burned my eye.  I guess when he added the extra punch it hit my left eye, and caused an infection.  My lip felt a bit sore, so I licked it.  Yes...it was bleeding and she yelled at me for licking it, she said it would get it infected also.  It pleased me to see her caring for me.  As painful as it was...I smiled.  But I noticed that she forgot to care for her own sores.  Her cheek that had the small cut on it before, was now bruised and bleeding.  Her arm was exposed and showed hand marks, from being grabbed.  She had changed into a black and whited striped low-cut long sleeve and a regular black pair of hip huggers.  Even though the right sleeve was ripped clear off and she was bruised...she was still beautiful.
I coughed up a bit of blood and she wiped it away.  "Why are you doing this?" I whispered.  My throat was sore and hoarse.  She glared at me and gave me a plain answer.
"Because I feel like it...or just out of the goodness from the bottom of the hole in my heart."  She sat on the edge of the bed looking down at me.  There was a small hint of lust in her eyes as she looked at me.  Even with one eye in use I could tell.  She blushed and sifted her eyes away when I smiled again.  Deep down I knew she was still upset about being held against her will, and deep down she wanted to see me get my ass kicked again, but she just looked too innocent to let it show.  
"But indeed you wouldn't have had to do this for me if I had kept him locked up a bit tighter." she shot her look back at me and glared.
"Let me correct you, Quee.  This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't kidnapped him in the first place."
"Quiet Wittany!  You should not be talking about what you do not know.  Do you watch the news?"
"Yes."
"Remember that girl that was raped and they never caught the guy who raped her?"
"Yes."
"The reason why they never found him, was because I found him first..." she unwillingly lightened her glare with the realization that she was wrong to question me.  I looked at the floor to see that he wasn't there.  "What did you do with his body?"
"I got rid of it..."  she sounded upset, yet a bit relieved.  I sighed and tried to get up, but she put her hand on my chest to hold me down.  It was soft and warm against my skin, so I tried to get up again...knowing she would keep it there.
"Let me up." I coughed.  And put my hand on hers.  I wanted to explore the world of pleasure during pain.  What I was about to do would be painful, but it would be worth it.