A/N: I am an avid Sean Bean fan, as can be noted by my fanfic listing as since most of them contain one of his characters. The title for this fic was a no- brainer and I give credit to the director of the film in his choice of the song to "Closer" to describe Ryder. It captures his essence and prompted me to see him as more than just a killer but also as sadistic sexual predator. Physical, sexual and psychological abuse.





Jeannie struggled against the cuffs, trying to free herself from her captivity. She was trapped in the bathroom, the cuffs hooked over the shower rod. She could hear the muffled whimpers and moans of her best friend coming from the motel bedroom as the bastard violated Kimberly's unwilling body…

How many times had they been told growing up not to talk to strangers?He'd appeared so non-threatening, when he'd stopped to pick them after the stupid car broke down. Casually but not shabbily dressed. He looked like a nice man.

First impressions could clearly be deceiving …


You let me violate you

You let me desecrate you

You let me penetrate you

You let me complicate you

(Help me) I broke apart my insides

(Help me) I've got no soul to tell

(Help me) The only thing that works for me

(Help me) Help me get away from myself

I want to fuck you like animal

I want to feel you from the inside

I want to fuck you like animal

My whole existence is flawed.

[excerpt "Closer" artist Nine Inch Nails.]



Chapter One:

~Meeting John Ryder~

A week earlier…..Standing naked beneath the steady stream of flowing water, surrounded by a cloud of steam, he calmly used the point of the knife's blade to remove the remaining blood from beneath his fingernails.

He finished with his shower quickly, slipping into clean jeans and a fresh T-shirt for the second time today…..


Two miles from the main road in the New Mexican desert, he dumped the body of his latest victim, and the previous car he'd been driving. He made quick work of replacing the out of state plates on the victim's brand-new Jeep Cherokee with local plates for the Eastern New Mexico County

Rifling through his victim's wallet, he removed the cash and a handful of credit cards, along with a slip of paper with several four digit numbers; numbers he correctly assumed to be the PIN numbers for the cards and shoved them all in his front pocket for the time being. As far as he was concerned people stupid enough allow such easy access to their accounts deserved whatever befell them.

Later he would slip into one of the neighboring counties, find an ATM and max out all of the maximum daily allowances for cash advances on each card,--with the pin numbers so generously provided, pocket the cash, destroy the cards so as not to leave a trail outside the victim's supposed route.

He took a final glance at the Driver's License in the wallet before he tossed it out into the desert terrain several yards beyond his bloodied victim, knowing wildlife would take care of the carcass. It was just another in his increasing string of aliases … fare thee well to Thomas Roswell…

Hello to John Ryder….

Two hours after ridding himself of all evidence of his crime, he was, as always, on a blood rush of sexual arousal from the kill, and he waited until later in the evening when he knew the small town's café was nearing its closing time, knowing he'd find the typical small town waitress. Typically he found buxom sluts, which would suit his current needs quite well.

He wasn't disappointed, although this particular woman was less endowed than what he expected; he was even less surprised to see he should have been able to predict the bleach blonde waitress's name. He noted the nametag above her left breast that read Jolene.

He greeted her with a polite nod which she returned with a friendly smile. Jolene was prompt and attentive. "Where ya from handsome?" she'd asked.

He replied with his standard, noncommittal answer, "All over."

Ryder ordered a burger platter from Jolene; dazzling her with his wide flirtatious grin, and charming her socks off. The place was fairly well deserted and she ate up his attentions like a starving kitten lapped up milk and in return she made a point of flashing him her cleavage when she returned with his burger and fries; and each time she refilled his coffee.

"Nice Cherokee, she commented, meeting his gaze and Ryder had already noted that it wasn't the vehicle she was giving a good once-over.

"Yep." He replied. This wasn't going to take long at all. In reply, he let his gaze wander her frame deliberately, knowing she was taking in every micro-second of his interest. His confident invitation was nothing short of sheer seduction. "She does great in desert terrain. Maybe you'd like to go for a ride?"

He gave her this look that had wet arousal going straight to her panties; the blonde was beside herself, damn near aching for him to take her. And he damn well knew it. "I'll be done in about an hour, can ya wait that long for me?"

"Sure… I'm not going anywhere."

Given her genial personality and adequate curves, Ryder might have been content with a simple fuck and then to go on his way, but the way Jolene irritatingly chewed and popped the requisite wad of waitressing gum had essentially sealed her fate.

Still he smiled and waited, eating casually, unobtrusively, as a couple of latecomers wandered in. They ordered "to go" and upon completion of their order the cook in the back called it a day. Ryder paid his tab and slipped back out so Jolene could lock up waiting for her patiently in the Cherokee.

He checked his watch roughly fifteen minutes later as he watched her come around the corner of the building, she and the cook clearly having left via the rear door to the kitchen.

Ryder leaned across, opening the door for her. "C'mon, let's go."

He even took her hand to help her get in and moments later the Jeep Cherokee sped off down the road to show Jolene the desert terrain…