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Topic Started: Jun 23 2016, 11:05 AM (30 Views)
Maggie McIntyre
The Banshee of HATE
Haven.

A haven is supposed to be a safe place. A refuge from the horrors of life.

To be completely honest, Alyssa, I think the only thing that might find you to be a safe place is a flesh-eating bacteria. I wouldn’t wish something like that on anyone though, except you. You and your scumbag, bottom feeding piece of shit husband.

I’d like to see you catch leprosy, lock you in a cell, and just film you as it overtakes you.

It would take years, of course. Then when all is said and done, release the footage in a time-lapse video...because no one has years to watch a whore like you wither and decay in a cell, crying into the night as your parts begin to fall off.

I can imagine footage like that would go viral.

At least for a few days, people sharing it across Facebook ...commenting on how horrible it is, but they can’t stop watching. Like a train wreck. And it would get shared thousand and thousands of times, and all the while people would laugh at you. How humbled the Queen Bitch would be, you certainly couldn’t seduce many men and play with hearts when you’re missing a nose and going blind, can you?

You know what would be even better?

If you caught Ebola.

Watching you shit yourself to death would be a sight as you’re one of the few people in this world that actually deserves it.

God, I fucking hate you.

I cannot wait to destroy you.

I’m going to rip you limb from limb.

I’m going to cut open your pretty face on the cage, make you so ugly even the Elephant man wouldn’t be able to look at you.

I hate you, Alyssa.





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite how much he liked to protest to the contrary, Michael Draven slept like the dead after a good romp between the sheets. Maggie certainly hadn’t been quiet when she rolled out of the bed at two o’clock in the morning, especially when groggily smacking at the bedside table for the empty bottle of whiskey. She was sore, but it hadn’t been a nightmare that woke her up this time.

Just the call of nature needing to be answered.

She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror afterwards, the light from the moon illuminating the small tiled room in an iridescent glow. Maggie almost didn’t recognize herself. She knew her eyes, her nose...she knew her face. Her hair. The curve of her modest breasts. The piercing through the top of her navel.

A smile grew on her lips. This was for the best.

The rookie reached up to the back of the door, her fingers slipping inside of her toiletry bag. She pulled out a long black feather, closing her eyes as she let it run over the skin of her cheek. The smell of it brought her back to that moment in the ring. Practically unconscious, unable to move, but even in the dark of that lizard brain...she would never forget the sensation of it.

Maggie hated him.

It was better to hate him than to fear him.

She would never forget the footage of him cutting open his palm, spreading his own blood across her lips. A sick baptism to mark her as the newest initiate of his twisted religion. The rookie slipped the feather behind her ear, smiling at herself in the mirror. She pulled her long ebony locks to the side before reaching over to lock the door.

Even hours of pleasure hadn’t dulled the ache she felt deep in the pit of her stomach.

It did nothing to put out the heat building in her loins.

Maggie leaned back against the wall, letting her fingers travel down between her legs. She inhaled sharply as those slender digits found what they were looking for, working herself over until her legs began to tremble and threaten not to hold her up anymore. She hated herself for this, but it was the only way to sleep without him constantly in her dreams. It was a struggle to stay silent.

Closing her eyes meant she saw him.

Perched on the sink like some creature of the night, watching her with those eyes that could see through her very soul. Watching his newest acolyte sink deeper and deeper into the black pit of hate, the Stranger’s lips peeled back into a disgusting grin revealing white teeth stained with blood. It dripped down his chin, splashing onto the tiled floor. He hungered for her flesh, he wanted to sink his teeth into her belly and rip away at her like a starving dog. He wanted to gorge himself on every inch of her and Maggie would happily allow herself to be devoured.

There was no better way to die.

No better way to succumb to the gentle arms of Morpheus than this.

The dam broke and Maggie could not stop the soft cry that left her lips.

She opened her eyes and he was gone.

The rookie panted, her naked chest rising and falling with every breath as she moved forward to wash her hands. There was no blood on the floor, no evidence the Stranger had ever been here. He hadn’t been there. Only in her mind. She’d done what she needed to do, even if it meant keeping a secret from Michael. Maggie loved him. She didn’t want to lose him. As much as she wanted to deny it, she wasn’t just another target for the Youth to use anymore. Her father and GRIMM were gone. Her sensei had abandoned her, along with her brother-in-arms. The only one she had left was the younger of the Draven brothers.

He loved her.

She wasn’t going to give him up, but keeping him meant a sacrifice had to be made.

Her heart belonged to Michael Draven through and through, but that darker part of her soul belonged to Indrid Calder. The Stranger had claimed her for his own and she fought it with all she had, but resistance was proving to be futile.

No matter how she railed and fought against it, it was in her blood to hate.

Maggie looked at herself in the mirror one last time, reaching up to pull the feather from behind her ear. She couldn’t let the man slumbering in the main room know about it. Not yet. It wasn’t the right time. The feather was slipped back into her toiletry bag on the back of the door and she went back to the bed, looking down at Michael for a moment with a smile. He was snoring softly, his dark hair all over the place and naked from the waist up, covered only by the motel’s comforter. He was plagued by monsters of his own and short-sighted at times, but he had a good heart.

He loved her.

He needed her.

He had no one else, just like her.

The rookie slipped under the comforter, curling up next to his side and feeling the heat emanating from his skin. A living furnace, even with the rumbling air conditioning unit running at high. It was summer now, but she felt cold from within. Maggie didn’t want to keep feeling this cold pit in the bottom of her stomach anymore, but it wasn’t time to tell him.

Not yet.

For now, it was better to enjoy the fruits of sin in the devil’s orchard.

Nearly four months of not being able to sleep drove a person to desperate lengths.

She felt him groan and move his arm to slip it under her, pulling her halfway onto his chest. He was so warm and Maggie wanted only to stay like this for the foreseeable future. This was safe. No one knew where they were, not even the monster who had his little termites chew their pathways through her walls to allow his presence to seep into her. Michael let out another noise, looking down at her with bleary tired eyes and a smile. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good now. I just had to pee.” She smiled briefly before closing her eyes and sighing.

This was warm.

This was safe.

Her eyes closed and she could see him in the corner of the room.

Slowly making his way to the bed, running the cold tips of his fingers up her bared leg. She didn’t react.

She wasn’t scared.

She hated him.

But it was that hatred that helped her sleep. Restless, fitful sleep...but she didn’t remember her nightmares now. They didn’t wake her up screaming in her ears. The demons were on a leash for now, because there was no taming them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was mid-morning when they arrived back in Boston.

She hadn’t been excited to see the city’s skyline from the Masspike, but it was better than hiding in that motel in Albany that was full of memories she didn’t need to revisit. Maggie talked nearly the entire drive back, animatedly telling him about her cousin’s children and their reaction to the last Battlelines. She told him how her old battleaxe of a grandmother was finally going into assisted living because she nearly let her apartment building burn down after she forgot her boiling pot of vegetable oil on the stove. Maggie was more than happy to see that happen, it mean that Kari and the rest of her cousins wouldn’t have to check on her three times a day. He laughed at her story of dinner out with her older cousins Josh and Michelle, they’d asked her no less than three times when Michael was planning on popping the question.

The duplex smelled like he hadn’t been home in two weeks to take out the garbage, well...the garage did. The house itself had clearly been cleaned by a professional, the lingering odor of chemicals in the air.

That...and his clothing wasn’t shrewn all over the dining room table like normal.

“Who cleaned this place?” She raised an eyebrow, neither of them were exactly the cleanest people in the world.

“My brother hired a cleaning service, it got kinda bad in the few days after you left.” Mike replied softly, throwing his bag on the floor near the closet along with hers. They could take care of it and wash everything later.

She smiled, turning to him before leaping up into his arms. “Good, that saves me the trouble of picking up after you.”

Draven caught her easily, holding her with strong arms that wouldn’t fail her again. He nipped at her lips, “You’re one to talk. You’re gone for almost a month and I’m still finding your water cups everywhere.”

Their eyes locked for a moment before their lips crashed together. Last night had not been enough. Maggie wanted to feel and to see every inch of him. She wanted--

He carried her to the bedroom, throwing back the sheets before laying her down. Michael looked down at her, watching with bated breath as his girlfriend slipped out of her clothes. The sneakers were kicked off and the jeans slid down her toned legs. She practically threw the tank top at his head, some humorous form of punishment for staring at her and not getting naked as well. Michael was going to take his time with her now.

The younger Draven brother took off his shirt before kneeling on the edge of the bed, hooking his hands under her knees and pulling her towards him.

Matching purple bra and panties. It was so endearingly her.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Maggie.”

That was all she heard before he slid off of the edge of the bed, pulling her panties off. Her gasp was music to his ears as his tongue delved between her folds and Maggie’s eyes closed tightly.

In the darkness, she saw him again.

A snake between her legs.

Teasing her and bringing her closer to the edge before sinking fangs into her thigh and pushing his venom into her blood. Then the cold weight on top of her, pressing her slim frame into the mattress. Oh how she hated this. She hated the sound of her name on his lips, hissing in her ear as he sank himself into her. She wanted to fight it, but all Maggie could bring herself to do was grasp his arms and sink her nails into his pale flesh.

Every thrust rammed home, his hips smacking against her own hard enough to make her toes curl.

It was a nightmare.

That forked tongue flicking out, scenting the fear and hatred leaking from her every orifice.

The Stranger reared back, fangs bared and ready to strike.

Maggie opened her eyes.

He was gone and only Michael remained. Her nails had left half-moon impressions in his skin, but it only spurred him on. His lips caught hers for a brief moment before he buried his face in her neck, wrapping his arms tightly around her and lifting her up as he rolled them over. He smiled up at her, breathless as his hands moved to rest on her hips and she returned that smile.

Draven liked this side of her.

This was the Maggie he’d fallen in love with. This was the Maggie who’d talked him down from the ledge and showed him there was a way to get one over on his tormentors. This was the girl who cried in his arms after a disastrous family dinner. Michael had his Maggie back, he was sure of it. Whatever she’d done to get over that fear of Calder in the last three weeks had worked…

And she was the only thing on his mind.

Especially after she began to move and his eyes rolled back into his head.

His brother was right. She was the best thing to ever happen to him.

He loved her.

She loved him.

Cupid had them in the crosshairs.

Boom.

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