Work Text:
"Run."
Your stomach drops the moment you hear that pointed whisper. You bolt away in the opposite direction. Your heart pounds in your ears as you navigate the dark forest. Shielding your face from branches, you weave between the trees. You stayed up gathering materials too long – the lantern attached to your hip barely lights up few steps ahead of you.
There is a second pair of footsteps behind you, jut as hurried as yours. You don’t even waste time looking back. You know you’re being followed. Branches snap. In panic, you shrug off the heavy bag from your shoulders. It tumbles somewhere as you run. Hopefully, by losing the extra weight, you might just manage to outrun your pursuer.
Good decision. Lighter on your feet, you pick up the pace, noise behind you seemingly getting more distant. Your muscles are screaming for you to stop and rest, but if you do that, you're dead. You push through, panting both because of exhaustion and adrenaline.
As if he got tired of chasing you, his footsteps suddenly pick up in frequency. You attempt to pick up your pace too, but your legs can only carry you so fast. Still, giving up is not an option. You keep pushing, to the very limit.
You begin feeling faint. In the ever stretching darkness in front of you, you miss a root. Muscles in your legs give out when you trip. You collapse, just barely being able to avoid crushing your face into the dirt. The impact knocks the air out of your lungs.
Disoriented, you forget what’s going on for a second. The only thing you can hear in your state is your gasped breaths and the way your heat hammers inside your chest. You weakly attempt to push yourself up, to keep running, but your body is refusing to cooperate.
As you lay on the ground, unable to move, his footsteps come to a stop. It doesn’t even register until you weakly lift your head up and see his feet. Your breath is somehow caught in your chest at the sight, despite your body’s desperate need for oxygen. You’re too afraid to look further up.
"Found you..." He whispers in a low, breathy tone. Before you can react, he kneels down, his entire lanky body leaning above you. You tense up at the movement, mind suddenly focused again, thanks to a new spike of adrenaline. Even if you weren't frozen in fear, there wouldn't be much you could do in your current position on the ground.
A pale, bloodied hand comes into view, grasping your face and tilting it up. It’s unnaturally cold, grip firm, and you have no choice but to look at him. You shudder. You saw him before, but never this close. No doubt, his hollow features would disturb you even if you saw him a thousand times over.
He exhales, sound easily mistakable for a cool night breeze. You are suddenly aware of the cold sweat all over your body as his clawed finger catches a droplet running down your cheek. You can’t read anything from his seemingly unchanging expression.
His grasp softens a little when you offer no resistance. You’re barely clinging to consciousness, anyway. Blood from his hand smears on your face as he moves it along your jawline. He seems transfixed. Thumb presses against your bottom lip gently, meanwhile his other hand grasps your shoulder, flipping you onto your back. The world spins around you as he does.
He exhales again, heavier. He keeps gliding his fingers on your face, seemingly mapping it out. Your shoulder is given a squeeze, his hand moving down to grasp at your forearm. You manage to catch your breath a bit while he’s busy with that, and it occurs to you how bizarre this is. Shouldn’t you be dead by now..?
His attention drifts from your face to your neck, hand following. It makes you uncomfortable, hands instinctively twitching to protect yourself, grasp his before he can deal any damage. But you think better of it. He just feels your pulse point. He’s distracted, breathing picking up pace.
Your mind races. What does he want to do with you? The pale man continues roaming his freezing hands over your skin, leaving goosebumps and shivers in his wake. You stay quiet – no matter how strange this is, you are alive. That means there are still chances of you making it out alive, however slim.
After a stretched moment of silence, he speaks, voice quiet and ghostly.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to get my hands on you..."
That admission brings another wave of chills to your body. You knew you were watched, yet hearing this first hand – it’s an entire new level of creepy. You wonder just for how long this has been going on. For how long was he there, watching from just beyond where you could see, waiting and thinking of just exactly this? Certainly, it brings out a deeper grimace on your face.
The hand that has been caressing over your biceps moves to grasp at your shirt, tugging the collar just a bit lower. Long, cold fingers trace along the collarbone, traversing over the newly exposed skin. You hear him breathe heavier, as if his excitement is growing.
"You are… so soft."
Obviously, this is all because of some sort of sick fascination. That much is clear by now. You’re just not sure what to make of it. But if it's going where you think it is, you could use it to your advantage. You stay still for now and let him do as he will, tentative plans hatching in your head.
His fingers slid under the fabric, massaging your bare shoulder. He leans closer, close enough for you to feel his unnaturally cool breath on your skin.
"So soft… and warm."
He shifts both of his hands, wrapping his bony fingers around your neck. The touch is gentle, yet so incredibly uncomfortable. You fight yourself not to cringe, afraid that the movement might prompt him to tighten his grip. You bear through it for now, letting him touch you. You can work with this, you tell yourself. Right?
You reckon it's desire that is driving him right now. He is a man, after all. You can work with that. You can use it to your advantage.
“Soft, warm, fragile. I could break you so easily...”
You swallow. Your time might be running out. He leans even closer than he already was, practically hovering over you with most of his body. A heavy exhale, right next to your ear, and the slightest squeeze of your neck. You need to act now.
He’s distracted. You easily manage to move your arm, hand making contact with his thigh. His breath hitches, dead-cold muscles tensing under your touch. The hands that were so insistent on squeezing your neck freeze. Clearly, he did not anticipate this. You opt to caress the skin of his leg before he gets a chance to collect himself.
"Haah..."
It’s subtle, barely more than just a breath, but undeniable. You caught him off guard – and you will hold onto that advantage for as long as you can. You let your hand slide up his tight, slowly, gently.
"Nnhh…"
Another low sound – fingers on your neck twitch a bit. Your simple touch seemed to affect him more than you anticipated. Good. You let your hand continue up, meeting his hip. You trace a finger along his pelvis bone. His body trembles at your feather-light touch. He lets out a long, shaky breath, as if he didn’t even realize he’d been holding it until now.
"Mhh... you..."
He lets out a quiet moan, attempting to speak before trailing off. You pause for a fraction of a second, before resuming. Your simple touches and gentle caresses are doing wonders, it seems. One of his hands leaves your neck for the ground next to your head as he steadies himself.
His fingers twitch on your neck again. Judging by his elevated breathing, he’s getting overwhelmed. You're still a afraid, still trapped underneath him on the cold forest floor, but you regained a semblance of control.
"T-that's enough..!"
He lets out an almost desperate whisper into your ear, his body shuddering once more. You disregard his comment and let yourself palm over his crotch. The dynamic shifted. You feel a strange rush.
You see and feel his muscles flex. There is a little gasp before his shaky exhales return. He leaves your neck alone completely, much to your relief. He hovers over your arm, but doesn’t stop you, only adding to your growing confidence.
Just a moment later, though, he grips your wrist. He seems to be going through some sort of internal battle – he’s not letting you continue, but it’s not like he’s pulling you away either. You try shifting your fingers, to give him some friction again.
"Nngh... st-stop."
He whispers close to your ear, voice almost pleading. You pause instantly. While this is getting a... desirable reaction out of him, you wouldn't want to agitate him.
He exhales shakily, his grip on your wrist loosening just slightly. He straightens up above you, looking at your face. And giving you a chance to once again see just how dead and hollow he looks. You shudder. His dark, empty eyes watch you carefully – somehow with a needy, but hesitant look to them.
After a moment of nothing but his steadying breaths, a strained whisper sounds out.
"…Too dangerous… to play with me like this."
It’s your turn to take a strained breath. Dangerous. His fingers twitch, squeezing your wrist. What’s your alternative? You don’t want to die.
"A-ah– I..."
You trail off. You're unsure what to say, heart racing in fear again. His grip on your wrist loosens further. There is a different tone to his breathy whisper when he speaks again:
"Clever… but reckless."
He watches your face for a moment, before brushing your cheek with the back of his hand.
"You win this game. But next time… I won’t let you distract me so easily."
And just like that, it’s over. His icy touch vanishes, leaving your wrist to fall to your side. When you blink, he’s already disappeared into the dark. You lay there, feeling the adrenaline start to fade away, exhausted, confused, and relieved all at once. The only sound now is occasional rustling of the leaves above, black shapes on the backdrop of the starry sky.