Author's Note: A ficlet I wrote for 30 Kisses before I realised I'd been booted :(

By Alexis C.

"This is a little much, don't you think?"

A sardonic smile twists his face. His lips are chapped, torn, caked in dried blood.

I reach out and run my fingers along the cold heavy metal links of the chains holding him prisoner in this dank dark cell.

"You'd think-" He bites off his sentence as he inhales sharply and coughs black blood onto the grimy floor below.

I raise my fingers to the cruel raw lacerations on his side. Gashes I inflicted only mere minutes before.

Torn strips of clothing hang limply from his battered frame.

"... You'd think... we'd have had enough foreplay by now."

I step in close, so our bodies meld together and my face rests on his shoulder.

He winces and tries to jerk back but the chains hold him tightly in place.

"Idiot..." He hisses through barely parted lips, feigned humour drained. His breathing is ragged, his face is pale like that of a corpse.

"No one is watching now us now," I tell him simply.

"You... can't be sure of that..." he whispers, voice trembling, and I can hardly catch the strains of his voice.

His harsh gasps are getting louder.

"They won't get here on time." I tell him, and the stark simple truth of that sentence stings, like iodine on an infected wound.

"I... know."

"Do you..."

"Yes..." he whispers, his voice inaudible from pain, but I hear it all the same.

He draws another shattering breath.

"Don't... let them... take me. Don't let them... have-" He coughs again, and the chains rattle sharply with the sudden jerk.

He laughs suddenly, and it hurts him almost as much as the whip that ravaged his body.

"Hell of a romantic way... to say farewell."

"It's not farewell."

"... Just do it."

I draw back slightly. His eyelids are fluttering. He's trying to stay focused, trying to stay conscious for our last few moments together.

I know that they are coming back for more. And this time they will ravage him utterly, body, mind and soul.

I will not see him suffer through their demented fantasies.

I press my lips to his and let the coppery tang of his blood linger over my tongue.

"See you in hell, lover," he whispers, stormy green eyes locked on my own.

Hell? Hell is where we are now, lover.

I will make this quick and painless. I promise him. But let me do this my way.

He lowers his lashes, assenting.

The chain rattles as I pick it off the floor. A wry smirk twists his lips. I pull the bandanna off my forehead, wrap it around his eyes.

This is not forever.

The chain crushes his throat so quickly, he has no time to gasp.

His body goes limp against my own and I slide to the floor, my mind whirling like a vortex that is out of control. The darkness cradles me as the sound of a door opening echoes in my ear.

The light blinds me. I lift myself gingerly from the sheets and press a palm to my forehead.

It fucking hurt.

I smile through the pain.

I've always wanted to do that.

That's sick.

You always seemed to get a kick out of it.

I sensed rather than heard outrage.

... What happens now?

Trepidation. Fear. He is at my mercy.

I step out from between the sheets and walk to the full length mirror on the far end of the wall.


I smile as I run my hands over my own body and watch myself shudder, part pleasure, part revulsion.

"Now we are chained... as one."

The End.