Forced Hospitality

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The trip back to his preferred safe house was blessedly uneventful. The last thing he needed to do was run across people. There were many places where it was survival of the fittest, so they wouldn’t think twice. Others though…they might try to be heroes, and the last thing he felt like doing was dealing with a would-be hero.

Malachi didn’t think she was much of a damsel deserving of being saved. She certainly didn’t deserve someone else putting their life on the line for her.

He’d made it back just before dusk began to settle in and then set getting things prepared. The old county sheriff’s office was the perfect getaway. It was far enough from the main areas that there were lower risks of running into the infected and the living. It had a small set of cells. It was easily secured. He’d done so quite a while back. He’d taken the time to modify the basement. One of the cells he’d left alone, while the other he’d changed and made into his own. He’d cleared out the interrogation room. For unknown reasons, they’d clearly repurposed it from a laundry room before the world went to hell because he was surprised to find caps on the wall where the plumbing had been.

Malachi had eagerly uncapped those and scrounged up the necessary parts to set up the faucets. He’d also gone through the trouble of getting those pipes set up so that he could feed water into it from a raised tank on the other side of the wall. Much work had gone into setting up something he could put a fire under and heat without giving himself away, burning the place down, or killing himself with smoke and carbon monoxide. Fortunately, he had a lot of time on his hands. The rest of eternity, in fact, or so it seemed. Moving the tub that he’d settled in beneath that faucet was one of the times that he was glad for his unnatural state. He’d never have been able to move it in otherwise.

All in all, he’d made the place entirely defensible and, more than that, livable. The “secret” side of the interrogation room acted as his kitchen and fridge since he’d busted down through the concrete to dig a root cellar into the earth to help keep perishables cooler. Sure, he couldn’t eat them…but people traded top-end stuff for perishables they couldn’t get elsewhere.

It had several tripwires leading down to that first barred and reinforced door to help alert him. He had weapons stashed in the office space off the first door, and the whole setup funneled nicely in a kill corridor. As far as solo living went, you couldn’t get much safer or more comfortable.

It was here that he’d taken her. She’d been so out of it due to blood loss and exhaustion. He’d contemplated cleaning her up but ultimately decided to just lay her on the narrow bed of the cell he’d kept whole. Two of the walls were solid cinderblocks. The other two were bars, with one where the door was. To ensure she didn’t get any ideas if she happened to wake up, he took a pair of the handy cuffs left behind and cuffed her arms above her head to the frame of the bolted-in bed.

Now, he was in a chair, a bucket of warm water and a cloth in hand. Setting the bucket down, he dipped the rag and squeezed it out. Lifting it, he stroked it against the skin of her jaw and cheek, trying to rid her of the road dust and grime she’d accumulated.

Posted 07-24-2023, 08:30 PM This post was last modified: 07-29-2023, 09:14 PM by Malachi Blake

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Scout was in a dreamless sleep. Nothing but perpetual darkness. A type of night that clouded her judgement and masked the hands of time. There would be no way of knowing how long she had waded those dark waters, no way of nothing where she was going, nor what was happening in the woke world. She was completely defenseless, just a rag doll in both weight and behavior. For those many hours, Scout had no opinion, no cares, no wants or needs. Best of all, she had no worries. The problems that plagued her ceased to exist. If she had been aware, maybe she would have liked to live there; in that state of nothingness.

Was it restful? It was hard to say.

The first thing that became apparent as she began to wake was the pain that localized around her temples and forehead. The headache pounded like a drum, like a heartbeat, reminding her she was alive. Reactively, her brows furrowed. Then she felt the frayed fibers of a cloth rag, grazing across her cheek. It was warm. Her eyes flashed open wide, but then peeled back into a squint. It wasn't particularly bright, but it felt amplified in comparison to where she had been.

Her vision was a little blurry, the sandman seemed to have visited her several times in her sleep, sticking her lids together and making a mosaic of Mal's face.

And still she recognized him.

Blinking she focused, just as her mind did, on the last moments she could remember before the world went black. Everything flood back to her, like the wading pool she had been traversing was suddenly a river dam busting loose.

Quickly she tried to sit up to no avail. Her wrists were bound up near her head in cold metal cuffs. "What that fuck is this?" she pulled away from his touch as much as she could, yanking on her hands and hearing the metals of both the bed frame and cuff clink and clank. "Where am I?!" her voice, while hoarse at first, became clear quickly.

She lifted her head and took note of her surroundings. Bars. Familiar, black bars. She was in a cage.

Panic set in with a thump of her heartbeat quickening.

Posted 07-25-2023, 08:53 PM

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Malachi picked up on the subtle precursors to her awakening. It was hard not to when he was this close. He picked up on the slight quickening of her breath as it began losing its slower, rhythmic pace. It coincided with the tempo of her heart lifting as well. He watched as she came to full consciousness and reacted to the feel of that cloth moving against her skin.

He watched her eyes open wide and then recoil at the light. Given how long she’d been out, that didn’t surprise him. He remained still there as she focused on him. He almost watched the wheels turning there in her brain as she processed him, processed where she was, and then remembered what had happened.

Her reaction was predictable as she tried to sit up and failed…then tried to pull away from him, for all the good that did besides giving them a cacophony of noise to deal with. It wasn’t his favorite noise, given the sensitivity of his ears, but he just sighed and shook his head as she demanded information. He waited quietly, sitting back in his chair and watching her momentarily while she tried to figure out more about where she was.

Then he heard her heart become a staccato beat. Swallowing, he closed his eyes for a moment, but not before they began to turn black as the Beast rose, interested in the prey sound of it. After a moment, he blinked, and his eyes returned to their pale blue hue.

”You’re at one of my safe houses. One of my preferred ones. I’ve got a few that I keep for stashing items I’m collecting for people, stockpiling weapons and other necessities, etc. It was the closest one to the meeting point, and, given your state, it wouldn’t have been good leaving you where we were.”

He nodded to her wrists. ”Those are because I don’t trust you. Because you’ve given me no reason to trust you. It’s the best I have at the moment.”

Posted 07-29-2023, 10:44 AM

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Scout didn't miss the blackening of his eyes during the second or two they were visible before he closed them. That did little to quell the panic rising up in her, contrarily, it heightened her fear. Though she only had a few instances to go on, she had already connected that tell with a loss of self-control, or if not that, a hungering desire. She froze, pulling into the corner of the bed as best she could and waited. That's all she could do, other than look down the length of her leg to her boot and notice the blade she kept there was absent.

He had searched her over. She wasn't surprised.

His eyes reopened and they were back to their less threatening color. She stared at him with a level of uncertainty and curiosity. He answered her questions, though she didn't like what he had to say.

"What do you mean you don't trust me? I could of killed you so many times, I had the opportunity, and I didn't." She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was just the bullshit he was feeding both himself and her to make an excuse; but an excuse for what? For keeping her captive? "I'm the one that has no reason to trust you. I came to you to ask a favor and you made me dinner."

She shook her head, trying to not remember what had happened. What he had done other than feeding from her. "What do you want me to say thanks for not leaving me there unconscious? Then you SHOULDN'T have MADE me unconscious to fucking begin with." she wasn't buying the I saved you act. The only reason she needed 'saving' was because of him.

"I'm awake now, so let me go, or blindfold me and drop me off back at the meeting point. Whatever you gotta do."

It wasn't a question or a suggestion.

Posted 07-29-2023, 11:40 AM This post was last modified: 07-29-2023, 11:40 AM by Scout Gadsby

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”Out of the two of us, only one of us has tried to kill the other. That would be you. If I wanted you dead at any point, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.” He countered her attempt to turn it around and act like she’d just been looking for a favor. That didn’t feel right to him. It didn’t sit well in his gut. It was off to him…and he’d learned well before the end of the world to listen to his gut. It kept him alive even when the rest of him didn’t know why his instincts felt the way they did.

He sighed a bit at her saying what he should have done, and shook his head slowly, almost sadly, before looking at her again. ”No, I don’t expect gratitude for it…and you didn’t provide much else in the way of choice, even when I was attempting the more pleasant route…and yes, I know how satisfying it was for you.” He gave her a smirk, his pale brow arching sharply at that as he met her eyes evenly.

He gestured to her before reaching out with that hand and grabbing her ankle with the speed of a striking snake. He pulled her back out so she was stretched on the bed before him. ”And I’m not dropping you off anywhere. I don’t believe you wouldn’t talk about my condition to save your ass. For all I know, you already have and that whole ‘asking a favor’ bit was just an attempt to get me to walk into a trap. I’ve had more than a few people try to get me in a kill box, both before and after the fall of the world. I prefer to keep on living…or whatever this is.”

He gestured to her with his free hand. ”So, until I feel that I CAN trust you with that secret and you aren’t going to stab me in the back, figuratively or literally, you’re staying with me.”

Posted 07-29-2023, 11:54 AM

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"Out of the two of us, only one of us ruined the others LIFE." she threw back, shouting towards the end, and unable to control the anger she was feeling. "You didn't have to meet me, you could of always chosen not to come. You walked right into this. Don't act like you didn't have a choice!" she scoffed. He was acting as if his hands were tied, not hers.

As he ended with reminding her he knew what she had felt because he was too blame for it. That stupid smirk he gave her made her face turn blood red. Was it embarrassment? Yes. Was it rage? Also yes. Pivoted towards him, she was suddenly and immediately reminded that her feet were free. Quick as was humanly possible, she bent her knee, and struck out at him with her heel. She hoped to catch him right in the face and smash that smirk clean off it. If it threw him off the chair too, that wouldn't have been unwelcome.

It was almost as if he knew what was coming. He met her kick before her leg barely made purchase off the bed and yanked it toward him, pulling her back out flat. She grunted.

She listened, unwillingly, but she did. It was certain now that she highly regretted not blabbing about him to literally anyone that would listen. She wished she had, with every fiber of her being. "You're so fucking paranoid." she reiterated as she had before, gaslighting to her hearts content.

"Even if I had told anyone, I wouldn't know where to find you. Damn, you didn't think this through Mal. You're just going to keep me chained to this bed until you can trust me? Okay. Goodluck. I'm going to be a pain in the ass though, a fucking burden." she let go of a chuckle, a fake one, one that hid a nervous anxiety beneath it.

Posted 07-29-2023, 12:41 PM

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His eyes rolled into the back of his head at that proclamation, and he shook his head. ”YOU ruined your life. You made your decisions, not me. I kept you alive and unturned. I certainly didn’t put a bullet in your partner. And yeah, I did walk into this because I did want to help. God knows why given how you seem to have the drive to put a bullet into every motherfucker that knows you…but I did want to.”

She was wily…and he was lucky as that foot swung at him. Sighing, he dropped the rag in his other hand into the bucket of water and reached down to grab the different set of bindings next to him. These had a longer chain and were a bit larger, not intended for the wrists but allowing someone to walk with them around the ankles.

Sort of.

He snapped it around her ankle, pulling it around the bars at the foot of the bed and dragging her other leg so that both were bound, giving her very little room or ability to move outside of twisting herself onto her side. ”It’s not paranoia when everyone would little try to kill you or do worse if they knew the truth of your existence.”

Now that her ability to lash out was minimal, he sat beside her on the bed. His palm came to rest on her navel, pinning her down with firm, inexorable pressure for a moment as he leaned over her and looked down into her eyes as she let out that chuckle. ”You figured out how to get ahold of me…pass a message to me through others. That’s enough to find me, given enough time and resources. Even if you didn’t, it cuts me off from my livelihood. From my contacts. From everything.”

That hand slid up, slightly causing her top to ride up to expose her navel before his touch slipped between the swells of her breasts. His palm rested against her collarbone, and his fingers wrapped around her pale, slender throat. ”If you become a pain in my ass and a burden, your whole existence becomes a blood bag. I don’t need you to have functioning arms and legs, Scout. I just need you to make blood.”

His voice and that stare were damningly, icily calm as he said those words.

Posted 07-29-2023, 01:04 PM

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"What the FUCK ever Mal! Whatever you have to tell yourself!" She sat up as much as she could as she yelled at him. Lifting her chest and leaning up, throwing her body weight as far off the bed as she was allowed. He could say whatever he wanted, but it was clear he never had any intention of helping her get back her life she once had. Any trap she had been setting for him was negated by the fact it seemed he had already planned to entrap her too. It was just unfortunate he had sprung his first. The glorious thing about this was that she didn't have to admit what her plans had been. Didn't have to own up to her tricks and could in turn use his against him. Not that it seemed he cared or had any regrets over his actions.

"You fucking bastard." she tried yanking her leg back, kicking all the while he had a grip on her ankle. The cold metal clinked into place and sent a chill up her spine. It dawned on her how helpless she was. What if a hoard of the undead came barging into his hangout? She would be torn to bits, without any hope of getting out of his chains.

"Get your hand off me." she uttered dangerously low as he pressed his palm to her stomach, otherwise she didn't argue with his assessment. It was honestly true. If he let her go now, she would exact revenge and it would be concluding. If things had never went this far, had he not bitten her a second time, had he not even met up with her... who was to say. But now? Now it was clearly all out war.

As he made his way up her front, hand reaching her throat, and fingers wrapping around, she swallowed then stretched her neck; trying to lean further away. "So... the truth comes out then. That's what this is about." she spoke quieter than she had before, her heart thumping loud in her ears.

Posted 07-29-2023, 07:19 PM

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Mal gave her a wan smile at her incensed tone and the way she tried to throw her body up. Whatever trite victimization she tried to put on herself. Licking his lips, he got her nice and secure while speaking softly. ”The lady doth protest too much…”

Those blue eyes sparkled in the challenge at her demand, his hand most assuredly not leaving her body. Instead, he added pressure to where his palm rested against the hollow of her throat. It didn’t choke her, but it did limit her ability to draw in breath as he turned that pipe down into a straw for her to sip precious oxygen. He didn’t need to grip her neck that firmly. If anything, his fingertips were almost sensual with how they stroked against the slender curve. He let her try to lean back as much as she could because, in the end, it simply didn’t matter.

He was in control here, and she needed to understand that. Scout needed to come to that realization and accept it. Her bluster, bravado, and bullshit wouldn’t win her anything here. The sooner she realized it, the better. It was growing tiresome.

”Whatever you have to tell yourself,” he parroted back at her. ”You’ve already come to your conclusions. I know it’s a fool’s errand to try and reason someone out of a position they didn’t reason themselves into, but I will try anyway.”

His fingers began to tighten down while his palm pressed down more, turning that straw into barely more than a pinprick now as he spoke slowly. After all, he had all the time in the world. ”This was the last thing I had in mind…but it’s either this or death. Resources are too hard to come by out here to be wasteful. So I will lay the choices out for you Monty Hall style.”

He held up the pointer finger on his free hand. ”You check your ass and the attitude. Maybe we come to understand each other, and you get released when I feel I can trust you.”

His middle finger lifted then, ”Or you keep on like you are. You take whatever moral victory you think you are getting. I get fed up and ensure you are permanently impotent and unable to be a threat. You get used like a sippy cup until the end of your natural life…or I get tired of your bullshit and drop you off somewhere that something less kind than me can find you.”

That pale brow arched as he stared down at her.

”You want door number one or door number two, Monty?”

Posted 07-29-2023, 08:16 PM

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Reactively, she stretched her neck when his hand tightened the first time. She could still breath, she just had to convince herself that she could. She took deep breaths with a forced slowness. It made her eyes wide and fearful. Scout had no idea how she was going to get out of this. There wasn't a way physically and it was becoming clear she couldn't talk her way out either. Not that persuasion had ever been her strong suit.

When his grip tightened, her hands that were cuffed above her head yanked against their restraints. She squirmed, moving her body and trying to get on her side, anything, to show she couldn't breath. He just kept talking, on and on, until his voice and words didn't make any sense. If sounds could be blurry, his were lights on a dreary, rainy night.

She got one breath in, the noise raspy and gasping after he reached the second option. The Scout that would cut off her nose to spite her face wanted desperately to tell him to shove his stupid Monty up his ass. She didn't understand the reference, didn't care to. The other half thought she was about to pass out if she didn't tell him what he wanted to hear.

Problem was, she couldn't speak.

Her index finger lifted, alone, symbolizing she would 'choose' the first option. She had not intentions of checking her ass, but maybe she wouldn't try to kick his face in again... at least unless she knew it was a sure hit. She chose to be smarter, not obedient.

Posted 07-29-2023, 08:56 PM

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A separate part of her strongly considered just keeping that pressure up…keeping it up until she passed out and then holding it for just a little longer. As far as ways out of this world went, it was one of the kinder ways. Sure, she was panicking now, given how desperately she was trying to twist and get away. It didn’t do her any good, of course, and he felt the lethargy as it began to turn her limbs to lead as the lack of oxygen began to make her sluggish.

He stared into those big, round green eyes. He watched how they began to glass over as the lack of oxygen took its toll. He considered that option again…it wouldn’t take long, and even that panic would fade. The world would get fuzzy and dark, and then she’d just be…done. No more pain. No more suffering. No more backstabbing and lies. Some probably would have just taken that option. Hell, some in her state might have just succumbed to it. They would have taken the easy way out, and he wouldn’t even blame them for it. He wouldn’t blame her for it. This world was hell. It was very much not worth it sometimes. A quiet death without pain and violence? Some would call that a mercy.

Of course…Scout Gadsby wasn’t one of them. His attention flickered up when she lifted that single finger. His mouth thinned slightly into a narrow, contemplative line. For a long moment, he pondered the choice. He let the world encroach on her consciousness…let the black crawl in until her vision was mere pinpricks of life.

Then he let her go. His hand left her neck with alacrity so the air could rush in like a painful tidal wave crashing through her straining lungs. Standing, he gave her a moment to reacquaint herself with what it felt like to breathe and what the world looked like when the color wasn’t bled out. He tossed the cloth he’d been using back into the bucket and carried it to the door, stepping outside and setting it down before moving back into her.

”Smart choice, Scout. Tell me…when did you last have a hot meal? Clean clothes and a bed? When was the last time you had a hot bath?”

Posted 07-29-2023, 09:13 PM

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When Mal didn't immediately acknowledge her choice and continued to hold her neck in a suffocating vice grip, Scout wondered if it was too late. Maybe she wasn't holding up the right number, maybe she wasn't holding up a number at all. Perhaps she had told her hand to lift it's index finger and it had simply refused. She began to question everything, even his ultimatum. Had she heard him right? What if she had confused the choices and their numbers. What if he wasn't real at all and instead a hallucination, something her mind made up to justify the end.

And still, she wagged her index finger harder into the space above her head. The metal cuffs clinking with each violent shake of her wrist.

After what felt like an eternity, he released her. Immediately she gasped and gulped at the air, forcing her windpipe to rush the life affirming necessity into her lungs. Then came the coughing. Painful deep coughs burst from her throat as she tried to desperately sit up in a natural reaction. Of course she couldn't, and that only increased adrenaline through her body.

This continued, and as it did, she lost track of where he went. He didn't matter. Breathing mattered. She coughed until she thought her throat would bleed.

He reappeared as she sat there, panting and staring up at the ceiling of the jail cell. She didn't look at him; wouldn't.

Malachi concurred with her choice and that suddenly made it clear that what had just happened was real. That he had nearly ended her life, and why? Because she had given him some lip? Because she had tried to kick him? Scout was under no misconception that he wasn't that kind of person, but somehow, some way... it still surprised her.

Slowly, she turned her head to the side and stared at him after a few long seconds once he concluded his questions. Her chest continued to heave with each breath she took. Her expression was of ill intent, of murderous rage, but still she said nothing. She wanted nothing more than to tell him to fuck off, but she kept her mouth shut.

Even more slowly, she turned her head away and stared up at the ceiling. Refusing to give him even the slightest acknowledgement or satisfaction of an answer.

Posted 07-31-2023, 08:37 PM

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*Ever the survivor…* He mused to himself. Truthfully, it likely would have been better for her to give up and give in. It would have been better for both. He wasn’t even sure why he even gave her that offer. She was a risk…one he could ill afford. Her death was his only security, yet…there she was, retching and coughing on the bed as she tried to breathe through a tortured throat.

He watched her passively as her eyes seemed to roll around, unaware of the world outside of that painfully precious air slipping back into her lungs. Pale lips thinned as he regarded her there while she composed herself once more. She was silent, even though she clearly had more control of herself. Her expression spoke volumes and, sadly, was one he felt little surprise in finding. The girl was stubborn, he decided. Stubborn to the point of stupidity. She would do anything to save her skin…other than check her damn pride. He watched her telling actions as she glared at him and then turned to face away from him and stare at the ceiling.

His response was a simple nod. Leaning down, he picked up the bucket with the cloth and straightened. Grabbing the chair, he lifted that before moving to the door and exiting. He set the chair outside and out of reach of her before moving back to close the door to that cell. It thunked close with a note of finality as the door locked itself into place. He moved away, down the hall and out of view as he moved to where that interrogation room turned bathing room was, pouring the water down the drain there and then hanging up the cloth. The bucket was set off to the side.

He was game to play if she wanted to test his patience and resolve. He left her there, glimpsed only briefly as he made his way to his room and got comfortable with a candle and a book. One would think that, given the state of the world, Malachi would have chosen something upbeat. Instead, he decided to read about a different sort of life after an apocalypse, amused at how the author thought technology would be more advanced after the end of the old world. He’d read it long ago, back on a deployment before the world’s end.

It seemed fitting, after all, as he suspected he’d have to play his own form of “Hunger Games” with Scout to curb her pride and attitude finally.

Posted 07-31-2023, 09:07 PM

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Scout had to admit, she was glad when he walked away. It was clear she had nothing else to say to him and he nothing to her. She kept her gaze pinned to the ceiling but watched him from her peripherals as he moved the chair out of the cell, then closed the sliding barred door behind him. Was it necessary? She couldn't see how. Cuffed to a bed where she couldn't move, couldn't stand, couldn't even sit... and he found it prominent to lock her in. Apart of her wondered if he was really that paranoid that she might escape from the cuffs. It was giving her too much credit, but Scout took that as a compliment.

As soon as he left, she lifted her head and scanned her surroundings, noting nothing of value and nothing within reach. She gave a quick twist, testing the stability of the bed too and found it practically welded to the floor. Giving up on that, she tried sliding her hands through the cuffs. Narrowing her hand and fingers in a way and pulling with a downward pressure; but the metal wouldn't give around the wider part of her wrists. In the middle of this, Mal walked by the front of her cell again and she dropped her head quickly, freezing as she listened to his footsteps get further away.

She was certain she could go quite awhile without food, less without water, but promise of clean clothes, a bed, or bath seemed like luxuries that would never win her pride over. It was only after about two hours did she realize a greater necessity that overrode any of the aforementioned in the short term.

In short, she had to pee.

A part of her considered the ramifications of pissing in the bed. Maybe the smell would spite him, but she doubted it would aggravate him more than her. She wouldn't put it past him to leave here there, in her own urine, for who knew how long.

She waited as long as she could. Till her bladder was metaphorically screaming. Lifting her hands she smacked the metal cuffs against the metal frame of the bed. "Mal!" she yelled begrudgingly, "Mal? I have to piss!" There was no holds barred about being proper or graceful about what she needed. She was military, practically raised her whole life as such. Not to mention, she wasn't trying to win him over in any respect.

Posted 07-31-2023, 09:50 PM

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Just as he got to the part about the spectacle of the dress that caught fire, he heard the clanking of the cuffs and Scout’s obnoxiously crude declaration. He sighed, annoyed, because he’d been picturing a delightful Jennifer Lawrence there in her role as Katniss in the movie adaptation. It had helped skyrocket her career… before she’d gotten her throat ripped out in the early part of the downfall of civilization as he knew it.

Taking a piece of leather, he placed it between the pages and rolled off his bunk. Book in hand, he shouldered his way out the door of that room. He took his time, in no hurry to get to where she was. Finally, he crossed back down the short hall to where she was. A pale brow arched as he leaned against the bars and eyed her slowly. He drawled his words slowly as he pushed away and moved to set that book down on the chair. ”Well, that’s rather unfortunate. I seem to remember asking you about creature comforts earlier…you should have said something then. We could have avoided such unpleasantness.”

Malachi didn’t even try to hide the amusement in his tone at this inevitable turn of events. She was only human, after all, and she was as much a slave to her biology as he was to his Beast…just in different ways. He gestured to her with his chin.

”Since you didn’t want to accept my hospitable overtures before, now you can learn to ask nicely for something if you want it. The words ‘please’ and ‘Sir’ must be involved.”

Posted 08-01-2023, 08:07 PM

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