Disclaimer: Hellraiser does not belong to me, neither does Kirsty or Pinhead. I merely borrow them for a non-profitable writing pleasure. ^_^ Rated T just to be safe.
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A Kiss in the Dark
Kirsty Cotton slowly unfurled her heavy eyelids to reveal before her complete darkness, and her senses flooded with fright and confusion. Her vision, so hampered by blurred images and blackness of the mysterious night, struggled to focus as she gradually came around, though everything around her - the sounds, the smells, appeared completely real. Though how?
Once her sight had returned to normal, and she at once saw the shadows dancing about along the faded walls, brought alive by the light pouring from the slight crevices, Kirsty squinted in the darkness to get a better look at her surroundings. She was very much confused; she had just slipped into bed, fallen sound asleep after reading a good romance novel, and now she was in unfamiliar surroundings in the pitch black - and no longer safe and snug within her clean, crisp sheets of her bed.
Had she been kidnapped? Was she dreaming? Or had he come for her, attempting to claim her soul once and for all?
Kirsty swallowed a huge gulp of saliva, her hands balling into fists every once and a while, and her fingers playing by her sides with the long flowing bridal appearing gown she seemed to be wearing the longer she lingered to the very spot. She had no idea where she was, or why she was there, or - scarily - who had brought her there, but she knew one thing for certainty; she was not alone. She could sense the presence of another in this very room with her, and she felt the signs of such unease creeping along her spine, for she did not foresee what was to come.
"Hello?" Kirsty trembled, gazing around in fear and confusion - and feeling terror rising in the very pits of her stomach. "Is anyone there?"
No answer. All she could hear were the creaks and groans of the floorboards beneath her feet. Kirsty was beginning to panic now. Her heightened senses had gone into overdrive. Oh why was she here?
Then, just in the corner of her eye, she could see the faint outline of a person lurking in the shadows. She could actually feel the individual's eyes burning into her, actually tasting the desire and lust oozing from them. They were mentally undressing her with every second that passed, making her feel vulnerable and exposed, and instinct screamed at her to remain on guard.
Very slowly and gingerly, Kirsty turned her head to look upon the place the stranger lurked, attempting to see if she could get a better look at this person by moving forwards a couple of steps at a time, see if she possibly recognized them. But no; every step she took the further away this shadow creature became. Frustration mounting, she moved quicker which only resulted in the room stretching beyond her vision, and becoming longer and narrower. Her legs had reduced to jelly now, making each frantic step harder to take. Now disorientated, Kirsty ceased and focused on staring dead ahead at her tormentor. All she could see was the outline of them, for too much darkness masked their features and refused to reveal their true identity to her.
"Who...who are you?" she whispered breathlessly, squinting her eyes again. Beads of perspiration formed across her forehead, and the valiant effort she had made in trying to get a closer look at this figure had left her fatigued and drowsy, though her ever curious body chose to push itself forward again, her brain powerless to stop it. The shadow creature made no such response, and even backed away from her as she neared.
Kirsty was beginning to grow agitated. She was cold, alone and frightened in a big bad world she had never been to before, and was being dicked around by a complete stranger whose possible lust was just too much. "Look, this isn't funny!" Kirsty hissed. "Either tell me where I am and who you are or I'll-"
She was cut off mid sentence by the touch of a hand resting tenderly over her shoulder, and she seeing how the figure was no longer stood before her left her to conclude that now was actually behind her. The touch of his hand, and she instinctively knew this to be a man, caused her to moan out in such pleasure and rapture, confusing her so. Why would the touch of a stranger's hand evoke such arousal?
She closed her eyes, feeling the strange desire building up inside of her, eating her alive at just the mere touch of the stranger. She thought it was wrong, but somehow she just knew it felt right and she craved more from him. As if reading her thoughts, she could now feel his other hand possessively placed to her hip and soon the other followed suit, forcing her to lean into him as she continued to moan out in ecstasy. Something sharp, something metal, had dug through the fine creamy material of her flowing dress and into the soft flesh. It was an action that would usually cause pain, but to her - it was blinding pleasure. Heat was now building between her thighs and she grew wet with anticipation as she was forced to turn and face him, slowly. Her eyes refused to meet his, she had frozen from the overbearing lust, though she really wanted to see who he was.
Kirsty breathed heavily and she felt his hand cup her chin, gently lifting her head up to meet with his face, but when her eyes finally land on him she felt disappointment rising, for his countenance was still shrouded in darkness. He was mysterious as the world around her. Scanning his features more closely and squinting in the dark, Kirsty could see the many of what seemed to be pins protruding from all around his head, and felt a gasp escape her mouth.
"YOU!?" she gasped, attempting to shrink away. But she couldn't; she was trapped like a fly upon a spider's web.
She knew who he was now; she knew with whom the company she had found herself in. It was Pinhead - the Dark Prince of Pain, the Leader of Cenobites, and very instigator of her worst nightmares. But, why was he here? And with her, making her feel such sexual desire for him at the simple mere touch of his hands?
He chose to say nothing; he remained as silent as the night and persisted in keeping himself masked in the dark.
Kirsty felt his hands again trail down to her hips, cupping them once they fixed firmly in place. She wondered what he would do next, but nothing could prepare her as he did something that forced her to gasp out loudly; he dragged her in closer, their bodies now melding together and one through the near proximity.
Against her will, Kirsty found her own hands slowly snaking upwards across his strong, broad chest before settling them upon his buff and lean shoulders. She could see him leaning in, and instead of leaning away, she returned the favour and brought her face in to meet with his, his pins slightly tickling at her clammy flesh. Slowly, their eager lips discovered one another's and brushed hungrily and eagerly against the other. Their first, and probably last, kiss - though initially sweet and tender - was brimming with passion, lust, need, and Kirsty could feel the power of it.
As the minutes frittered away, their mysterious yet pleasurable kiss grew more passionate and sensual. She felt his tongue slipping into her soft and sweet mouth, taking its opportunity when she had to gasp for air against his hot and craving mouth. It danced and swirled with hers and was quite pleasantly surprised by the metal stud tearing and scraping against her flesh, and she tasted the familiar coppery taste welling in her mouth - her own blood. She chose to ignore his pins, paying no heed to the way in which they aggressively scratched and poked at her reddening, heated cheeks. She was far too gone in her desires, lust and passion to even care.
Just as she thought she could disappear into the darkly sensual feel of his lips and be apart of him forever, Kirsty felt his touch fading slowly - feeling his presence leaving her and she could not suppress that whimper of disappointment from leaving her throat. When she opened her eyes she was no longer in the dark and cold mysterious room, or in the arms of the pin studded Cenobite from her past and kissing his lips, tasting his sensual need.
She was in her own room, in her bed - safely nestled under the covers with her romance novel still clutched within her grasp.
Slowly, she risen - placing her fingers to her lips once the memory of the dream, and the intenseness of it returned to her. It was only a dream, yet Kirsty could actually feel the tingling and heat on her lips, taste the copper on her velvet tongue, all from the phantom, fantasy kiss she shared with Pinhead of all people. Her tongue felt strained from all the dancing and entwining with his, and the flesh of her cheeks were sore from being pricked by needles.
If this was only a dream then why did it feel so real? Was it a dream, or did Pinhead actually come to her?
Kirsty would never know.
With a slight shrug of her shoulder, and the slowing of her rapid heartbeat, Kirsty slid herself back down under the covers, settled herself in and slowly drifted off back to sleep - no longer feeling scared, and thinking of the strange yet wondrous kiss she had shared with the one man she thought she would never in a million years feel such rapture and passion for...