Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Do What I Say, And You'll Still Get Hurt
A few minutes later I stood up from the man, blood coating my muzzle and chest. Ryan was leaning against a tree, and the sun had set. I backed up a step, food and the smell of a kill making me cocky, my adrenaline pumping.
Ryan pushed off the tree as I stiffened, bending into a crouch.
“I can do the same thing to you that I did to him,” I growled into his mind, jerking my muzzle at the dead guy.
Ryan answered aloud, “You can try, but I don’t think you’ll be able to touch me.”
I weighed my chances, thinking of what they both meant for me. Kill him, or he drags me back to his stupid car and back to the other vampires. Oh yeah, I’d take those odds.
With a growl I lunged, teeth aiming for his throat. He didn’t even move until the last second, grabbing me by the throat and tossing me to the ground. Ryan grabbed me by the scruff and
started walking back, dragging me with him until he reached his car.
He opened the door and threw me into the back seat, slamming the door nearly on my tail. When he got in on the other side my jeans were on and I was struggling into my t shirt, back in my human form. I wiped my mouth on my forearm, coming away with blood. I considered wiping it on the nice interior as he started the car, and one look from him made me decide against it.
“I could jump out you know,” I muttered quietly, getting my shoes on. His only reply was to lock the car. Rolling my eyes I reached out a hand to unlock it, just to prove my point, when he grabbed my arm and pulled, jerking me up to the front seat.
I landed on my side with my legs sticking up in the air, and I had to scramble to right myself as he got onto the highway.
Again it was a quiet ride. I twiddled my thumbs pretty much, looking just out the window. I involuntarily let out a yawn and leaned my chin on my head, closing my eyes.
When I opened my eyes, brown eyes were inches from mine. I squeaked and threw myself back, hitting the other seat.
“I liked you better when you were sleeping,” growled Ryan. He gave a jerk on the leash he was holding and the stupid collar at my neck almost choked me. Damn. It was back. I was jerked to my feet and Ryan closed the door, yanking me along behind him. I moved, but there was a lot of tension in the leather. He pulled me back all down those many hallways, down to his room. When he opened the door he unclipped the leash and slammed the door all in one motion, locking it. I was alone.
Pacing around the room, I bit my lip while thinking. Glancing at the blood on my arm, I went to the bathroom to wash it off. Wow was it nice. The walls and floor were solid white tile with one strip of red. The towels as well were red, and the sink, toilet, and bathtub were white. After admiring the room, I walked to the sink and turned the water on over my arm. With the help of some scrubbing, I got the blood off my skin, getting it off my neck and face as well. I really wished I had some clothes to change into.
Out of the bathroom I looked around, yawning again. Was I scared? Hell yeah. But could I do anything without sleep? Hell no. So I needed some sleep, and since Ryan was off doing-whatever he was doing, (I didn’t want to think about that) I debated on a few options. One-should I sleep on the bed? Two-should I sleep on the black sofa on the opposite wall? Three-should I sleep in the bathtub? Four-should I sleep on the floor?
I looked at the black plush carpet of the floor for a few moments. It wasn’t very appealing, but I didn’t want Ryan getting mad at me for breaking some unspoken rule of being a captive by sleeping on the captor’s bed. The sofa might be just as bad for breaking that rule, and the bath tub screamed passed out druggy. All things considered, I went to the corner by the mirror and sat down, drawing my knees up to my chest, and resting my chin on them while I wrapped my arms around my legs and linked my fingers together.
For awhile I sat there with my eyes closed, heart pounding in my chest as I thought of that day and possibilities of the next. Thinking of Ryan’s fangs were a recipe for nightmares, and sure enough when I dozed off, the first thing my subconscious brought up was Ryan sinking fangs into my neck.
I woke up when the door opened, though I didn’t look up. I kept my eyes fixed downward and kept breathing deeply, as if asleep.
Footsteps padded over to the mirror and stopped.
“You’re cute when you sleep, and almost just as cute when you fake it,” Ryan growled from where he was standing.
“Who said I was faking anything?” I snapped heatedly, turning my face up to glare at him. I saw he was holding a bottle of water in his hands, which he tossed to me when I looked up.
“Figured you might want something to drink,” he told me. When I just looked at the water he rolled his eyes and asked, “What now?”
“Why should I trust anything you give me?” I replied, taking a sniff of the bottle.
Ryan plucked it out of my hands and unscrewed the cap, taking a long drink of it. He stood there for a moment then spread his arms and waved his hands. “Still alive.” He handed the bottle back to me.
“Yeah, but you’re already dead,” I muttered, sniffing the now open bottle. “And it smells….strange.” I couldn’t decipher what it was, nor if it was lethal, but the water did smell funky.
“Maybe because I drank out of it?” asked Ryan, looking himself over in the mirror and tousling his hair.
Sniffing again, I brought it to my lips and glanced at Ryan again. He wasn’t paying any attention to me, turning this way and that in the mirror. And if it were some kind of poison, wouldn’t he be watching me to make sure I drank it?
With that thought I brought the bottle to my mouth, tipping it back band swallowing the water. The moment I did Ryan grabbed the bottle as I started choking as it burned its way down my throat-definitely not water.
My throat and chest burned, and when the stuff reached my stomach I jumped to my feet, holding my abdomen. “What did you do?!” I gasped out, writhing against the wall. Ryan just stood there and watched as I finally tired myself out, and when the pain stopped I collapsed against the wall.
Ryan pushed off the tree as I stiffened, bending into a crouch.
“I can do the same thing to you that I did to him,” I growled into his mind, jerking my muzzle at the dead guy.
Ryan answered aloud, “You can try, but I don’t think you’ll be able to touch me.”
I weighed my chances, thinking of what they both meant for me. Kill him, or he drags me back to his stupid car and back to the other vampires. Oh yeah, I’d take those odds.
With a growl I lunged, teeth aiming for his throat. He didn’t even move until the last second, grabbing me by the throat and tossing me to the ground. Ryan grabbed me by the scruff and
started walking back, dragging me with him until he reached his car.
He opened the door and threw me into the back seat, slamming the door nearly on my tail. When he got in on the other side my jeans were on and I was struggling into my t shirt, back in my human form. I wiped my mouth on my forearm, coming away with blood. I considered wiping it on the nice interior as he started the car, and one look from him made me decide against it.
“I could jump out you know,” I muttered quietly, getting my shoes on. His only reply was to lock the car. Rolling my eyes I reached out a hand to unlock it, just to prove my point, when he grabbed my arm and pulled, jerking me up to the front seat.
I landed on my side with my legs sticking up in the air, and I had to scramble to right myself as he got onto the highway.
Again it was a quiet ride. I twiddled my thumbs pretty much, looking just out the window. I involuntarily let out a yawn and leaned my chin on my head, closing my eyes.
When I opened my eyes, brown eyes were inches from mine. I squeaked and threw myself back, hitting the other seat.
“I liked you better when you were sleeping,” growled Ryan. He gave a jerk on the leash he was holding and the stupid collar at my neck almost choked me. Damn. It was back. I was jerked to my feet and Ryan closed the door, yanking me along behind him. I moved, but there was a lot of tension in the leather. He pulled me back all down those many hallways, down to his room. When he opened the door he unclipped the leash and slammed the door all in one motion, locking it. I was alone.
Pacing around the room, I bit my lip while thinking. Glancing at the blood on my arm, I went to the bathroom to wash it off. Wow was it nice. The walls and floor were solid white tile with one strip of red. The towels as well were red, and the sink, toilet, and bathtub were white. After admiring the room, I walked to the sink and turned the water on over my arm. With the help of some scrubbing, I got the blood off my skin, getting it off my neck and face as well. I really wished I had some clothes to change into.
Out of the bathroom I looked around, yawning again. Was I scared? Hell yeah. But could I do anything without sleep? Hell no. So I needed some sleep, and since Ryan was off doing-whatever he was doing, (I didn’t want to think about that) I debated on a few options. One-should I sleep on the bed? Two-should I sleep on the black sofa on the opposite wall? Three-should I sleep in the bathtub? Four-should I sleep on the floor?
I looked at the black plush carpet of the floor for a few moments. It wasn’t very appealing, but I didn’t want Ryan getting mad at me for breaking some unspoken rule of being a captive by sleeping on the captor’s bed. The sofa might be just as bad for breaking that rule, and the bath tub screamed passed out druggy. All things considered, I went to the corner by the mirror and sat down, drawing my knees up to my chest, and resting my chin on them while I wrapped my arms around my legs and linked my fingers together.
For awhile I sat there with my eyes closed, heart pounding in my chest as I thought of that day and possibilities of the next. Thinking of Ryan’s fangs were a recipe for nightmares, and sure enough when I dozed off, the first thing my subconscious brought up was Ryan sinking fangs into my neck.
I woke up when the door opened, though I didn’t look up. I kept my eyes fixed downward and kept breathing deeply, as if asleep.
Footsteps padded over to the mirror and stopped.
“You’re cute when you sleep, and almost just as cute when you fake it,” Ryan growled from where he was standing.
“Who said I was faking anything?” I snapped heatedly, turning my face up to glare at him. I saw he was holding a bottle of water in his hands, which he tossed to me when I looked up.
“Figured you might want something to drink,” he told me. When I just looked at the water he rolled his eyes and asked, “What now?”
“Why should I trust anything you give me?” I replied, taking a sniff of the bottle.
Ryan plucked it out of my hands and unscrewed the cap, taking a long drink of it. He stood there for a moment then spread his arms and waved his hands. “Still alive.” He handed the bottle back to me.
“Yeah, but you’re already dead,” I muttered, sniffing the now open bottle. “And it smells….strange.” I couldn’t decipher what it was, nor if it was lethal, but the water did smell funky.
“Maybe because I drank out of it?” asked Ryan, looking himself over in the mirror and tousling his hair.
Sniffing again, I brought it to my lips and glanced at Ryan again. He wasn’t paying any attention to me, turning this way and that in the mirror. And if it were some kind of poison, wouldn’t he be watching me to make sure I drank it?
With that thought I brought the bottle to my mouth, tipping it back band swallowing the water. The moment I did Ryan grabbed the bottle as I started choking as it burned its way down my throat-definitely not water.
My throat and chest burned, and when the stuff reached my stomach I jumped to my feet, holding my abdomen. “What did you do?!” I gasped out, writhing against the wall. Ryan just stood there and watched as I finally tired myself out, and when the pain stopped I collapsed against the wall.
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