Unsettled: Thriller Standalone

by A J Wolf

  Standing from her, I grab her plate of food, then my empty one, taking both to the kitchen. Setting mine on the counter, I pull out the trash can and dump my butterfly's leftovers into the can. Setting her plate in the sink with mine, I grab all the extra food bowls and the garlic bread, throwing it away as well. Putting the can back under the sink, I rinse off the dishes with the sponge setting beside the faucet before putting them in the dishwasher, setting the water temperature to hot. Grabbing a spare rag from the drawer and a bottle of all purpose cleaner, I spray down the countertops and appliances, making quick work of wiping down all the surfaces I've touched.

  Walking into the living area with my rag, I wipe down the door handle both inside and outside, I spray the remote, clicking off the tv before I clean it and drop it back onto the couch. Moving toward my now still butterfly, I carefully remove her glasses, using my rag to wipe down the frames before placing them back on her smiling face. I wipe down the table and chairs, even my butterfly's just to be safe. Moving back to the kitchen, I wipe off the spray bottle, opening the cabinet with my rag before using it to set the bottle inside and close the door. Lastly, I bring my rag to the washer, setting it to hot, just like the dishwasher, I use my rag to turn the knobs before tossing it in and bumping the lid shut with my elbow.

  Taking my orange and blue paper butterfly from my pocket, I find my way back to my butterfly. Her fingers are still twitching on and off, but I know she's been dead for quite some time. Placing the paper butterfly on the table in front of her, I admire her a moment longer. Her performance was stunning like they all are. Perfectly executed. I'm pleasantly surprised that my first poisoning went so well, yet I didn't quite reach that level of excitement I've been looking for. This wasn't thrilling. My blood didn't pump in my veins, my heart didn't bang so hard against my ribs that it felt like it might burst. My hands didn't tremble with excitement, nor did I completely lose my breath. All of those things that used to happen when I first started my collection.

  Backing from the room, I spin on my heel toward the door. Slipping my sneakers on, I throw on my jacket and gloves. Opening the door, I lock it from the inside before shutting the door. I pull the loft key from my pocket, already wiped clean and secured in an envelope, and drop in into the locked mailbox hanging by the door. Spinning away, I toss my hood over my ears to hide my head from the cold breeze and tuck my gloved fingers inside of my jacket pockets. I parked my car about five blocks from here, so I head in that direction.

  I don't think I'm disappointed with tonight, but I'm not satisfied either. I tried something new, and despite all the signs pointing to it being what I've been lacking, it just fucking wasn't. I can't shake the hollowness in my gut, can't scratch the itch on my back. I'm missing something, but I can't figure out what.

  I need more.

  But more, what?

  "Hadley!"

  Pausing on the sidewalk, I look around, thinking someone called my name. When I don't hear it again, I keep walking.

  "Hadley! Hey, hold up." Kyler runs up behind me, his hand resting on my shoulder. He smiles, slightly out of breath, and I shift, so his hand falls. "I haven't seen you in a while."

  I nod, stepping out of the middle of the sidewalk and shifting my backpack on my shoulders. "Yea. I've been busy."

  He moves with me, crossing his arms over his chest. "What're you working now or something?"

  I shake my head, "I mean, no. I just do that arts and craft class at the retirement home still."

  "Then, why are you busy?"

  I frown at him, lips pursing. "I just am. Did you have something specific you wanted to say? Because I'm on my way home and don't really feel like catching up."

  His arms drop to his sides as he nods, "Right, I was just going to say that Joshua saw you at that diner on fifth avenue the other day." I wait for him to elaborate, blinking at him until he does, "He said you were sitting by yourself, and you seemed pretty angry about something." He pauses again like he's trying to find the right words to say. "He said you might have been talking to yourself."

  I scoff, my hands finding the straps of my backpacks. "Joshua is an idiot. I was there with Rhys, a... friend of mine. He went outside to smoke for a while, then came back inside. As for being angry, you can mind your own business."

  I start to walk around him, and he stops me, his hand touching my arm. "No, you're right. I'm sorry."

  "Bye, Kyler." I shake off his arm, walking away. He doesn't follow after me, and I'm grateful for it. Despite how much he tries, we aren't close like that, and I have no plans to be.

  I'm just coming up on my house when I spot a familiar face hiding. "There you are." It's said from the shadows, Rhys's familiar growl reaching out to blow in my ear as he stands from the tree he was leaning against. I don't look at him, and I don't stop walking, but he doesn't care. "I thought you'd be home sooner."

  "Thought wrong." I can already tell by his tone that he's not in the mood for my games, but I can't help it.

  He grabs my backpack, yanking me backward by the handle. I'm spun to face him, and his lips glide over mine, soft and sweet for all of three seconds. Biting into my lower lip, he tugs it back, letting it scrape through his teeth as he lets it go. "Run."

  I blink up at him, confused by his quiet demand. "What?"

  He releases me, the white blond of his hair reflecting off the moon at his back. "Run, Hadley."

  It only takes me a second to react, my sneakers scraping on the sidewalk as I spin around and take off for my backyard. Stepping off the sidewalk, I cut through grass, sprinting toward my open yard gate. I can hear Rhys's footfalls behind me, and my heart’s picking up has nothing to do with my running. I ditch my backpack at the gate, swinging it off of my shoulders and tossing it toward the side of my house. Pumping my arms, I sprint across my back lawn, knowing I'm getting closer and closer to getting caught.

  I feel his presence before his fingers, his big hand knuckling the back of my hoodie, catching me off balance. I'm slammed to the ground, Rhys's body following mine as I'm rolled to lay on my back. Rhys's forearms lock on either side of my head, his hair hanging down as he looks at me, legs tangled with mine. Both of us are breathing heavily, our chests almost in tune as he braces above me.

  "Your sex kinks are really weird."

  His upper lip curls at my remark, his tongue reaching out to lick the seam of my upper lip. "You would know."

  I laugh at that, the sound carrying through the trees. My house is the last on the cul-de-sac, you can't even see the other houses from my driveway, and it bumps right upto the Rivercrest National Forest. We're completely secluded out here. It's cold, though. My fingers and face feel tingly with cold. "You caught me, now what?"

  He sits up instead of answering, his hands pulling off my sneakers. I frown at him, watching his fingers find the button on my denim. He starts to tug them down, and I try to grab them with no success. "I'm going to freeze out here!"

  He shrugs, his piercings glinting with the moonlight. "You should have ran into the house." He jerks my jeans over my feet, eyes on my pussy as his hands slide up my thighs. "Take your hoodie off."

  Already shivering, I do as he says, pulling it over my head and discarding it off to the side. My skin is pebbled with goosebumps, the cold air stinging my flesh. His big warm hands slide up my sides, pushing my shirt along with it, and I raise my arms, letting him pull it over my head. He nods at my bra, and I slip it off. I'm shivering before him, my arms crossing over my chest to get warm.

  He shakes his head, and I drop them, knowing that fighting him gets me nowhere. He spreads my legs wide as he kneels before me, his hands running over my knees and down my thighs. Using his thumbs, he spreads my pussy lips under his gaze. He groans at the soft, wet sound that his fingers make, and the noise curls my toes into the grass. His attention moves upward at a leisurely pace as he draws out my being outside in the cold, his fingers plucking at the already hard peaks of my nipples until my fingers are digging into the grass bes
ide me.

  He leans over me, and I suck in his warmth, moaning into his mouth as he takes my lips in his, licking the taste from my tongue. His teeth lightly scrape my chin as he pulls away, wet kisses placed on my neck and collarbone that burn in the cold air. "Touch yourself."

  I immediately respond to his low command, my hand snaking between our bodies to stroke my cold fingers along my hot wet slit. I circle them around my clit, arching into Rhys's mouth as he sucks in a nipple, flicking his tongue until it's oversensitive and I'm wiggling beneath him. He gives the other breast equal treatment; his warm hands running along my goosebumps is almost overstimulating with my tight nipples and pumping fingers. He sits back, and I watch as he unzips his denim, pushing it down far enough to free the long, hard length of his erection. He runs his hand down the length, palm squeezing over the head as his eyes fix on my fingers sliding in and out of my slick pussy.

  The hand wrapped around his dick matches my rhythm, continuing to fuck his hand as he watches me masturbate for him. A small bit of pre-cum squirts out of the tip of his penis onto his fingers, and I moan at the sight, my palm working my clit as I lift my hips off the ground for him. The sight of his fingers spreading the cum over his swollen head has my pussy clenching the air in search of his dick. I part my lips for his dark gaze, wordlessly inviting him to slip in, spreading them with the fingers of one hand while I thrum my clit with the other. My hips shifting to fuck the air as I silently beg him to fill me up, my tits squished between my arms, so they jiggle with each small move I make.

  I almost cry when he shifts forward, eyes meeting mine as he grabs my hips and slides me to him. I can't keep my hips still as lines his dick up with my soaking pussy, my hands ripping at the grass on either side of me as I wait for him to fill me up. I barely feel the cold anymore, all of my attention and focus on the tip of his dick as it presses between my lips. He pushes a palm on my lower belly, fucking me with just the tip of his dick as I moan my frustrations into the trees. He's biting his lip, scowl in place as he watches the swollen head of his erection disappear between my wet lips. I want all of him, but I know better than to ask. He'll refuse just to spite me, even if it's something he also wants.

  I'm on the cusps of my orgasm, the back of my spine warming, moving toward my gut as I thrust in the grass below Rhys. He chooses that moment to ram me full with the rest of his dick, and I instantly orgasm, my pussy clenching around him as he groans above me. I thrust through my release, his palms pressing down on my inner thighs to keep me spread for him as he jerks into me with an almost mindless rhythm. I can vaguely feel that my toes are frozen, but I don't even care anymore, watching Rhys's hair flop over his eye as he groans his release between my thighs. His tongue runs over his bottom lip as he looks down at me, his hips pumping leisurely a few more times before he pulls out.

  I watch him as he tucks himself away, his eyes raking over my body like he's not finished for the night. He reaches over and grabs my hoodie, tossing it to me. "You should get dressed, your lips are starting to turn blue." He smirks at that, standing as he watches me cover back up.

  I pull my panties back on and my hoodie, but just grab the rest. Standing, Rhys's eyes follow me as I start walking toward my house. Pushing open the sliding door, I walk in, leaving it open for him. He closes it behind him, leaning against the glass. Shivering, now that I'm not thoroughly distracted, I grab a blanket and sit on the couch. I have to rest my cheek on the back of it to see Rhys.

  "You never talk about yourself."

  His eyes narrow marginally, his big body standing off of the door to sit on the couch with me. He pushes my feet off his lap when I try to set them there. Rhys is definitely not a cuddling type of guy. "Why should I? You already know everything about me."

  I scoff, watching as he grabs the remote from the coffee table to flick the tv on. "That's not true."

  He looks at me from the corner of his eye, "You know it is." His tone says the conversation is over, so I scoot lower onto the couch, resting my head on my arm as a pillow. My eyes are just starting to drift closed when I feel the soft swipe of Rhys's thumb on my ankle under the blanket. Knowing he'll stop if I say anything, I just smile to myself and go to sleep.

  I dreamt about this. It was one of those dreams that almost feels like a whisper of a memory. Like a sense of deja vu. I wasn't going to actually put it into action, but the more I tried to suppress it, the harder it lingered. Like a spot on the carpet you just can't scrub out; the more and more you scrub, it just gets bigger, spreading further and further until it is worse than it was when you started and simply can't be ignored. I found myself focusing more on the dream and the need to reenact it than the butterfly I'd be adding to my collection. She is still important, just not quite as important.

  Maybe my unfixable case of unfulfillment dreamed it up for me as a solution to the problem I haven't been able to fix; it certainly is bound to attract attention. Or, and most likely, I'm teetering on the edge of desperation to feel that thing I seem to be missing. Like slurping down a slushy a tad too quickly, all I can manage is a rapid and short brain freeze instead of the high I'm looking for. I feel like I've left the house and forgotten something, but I can't remember what it is I've forgotten. This looming in my gut that makes me sick.

  Finding the butterfly to fit my ideal vision was easy enough. My butterflies always find me; they know they belong to me and eventually always flutter straight in my direction. I'm the dark desire they want, and they don't know why. Usually, I'm their dirty secret as much as they are mine. Not for the same reasons, of course, but it works in my favor nonetheless, so I try not to let it bother me too much.

  Although my vision for tonight doesn't require that much planning in regards to preparation, it feels important to get as many details as I can right. That includes my Vanessa carduiI. My dream didn't have a clear appearance for her, but a blurry idea that consisted of long brown hair, tall, and slender. In a way, generic, but still beautiful, like all the butterflies in my collection.

  "I think I'm ready to leave." Vanessa carduiI links her gloved fingers with mine, her breath puffing out in front of her face. We've been in her neighboring park looking at the ice sculptures for a while now. It's almost midnight, so the park is quiet and peaceful, the sculptures looming in the shadows of the above lamps. "I'm freezing, look." She flashes her teeth in a wide, grimacing, chattering smile.

  I smile at her, tugging her closer so that I can loop my arm over her shoulder, our joined fingers resting against her shoulder. "I agree it's cold. My toes have been frozen in my sneakers for the last thirty minutes."

  She snorts, her other hand adjusting the fluffy hat on her head. "I told you to wear something other than your sneakers in the snow."

  I hum in acknowledgment, my eyes trailing the string of Christmas lights lining the fence we're walking past. "You did." My breath curls around my face, trailing behind me as we walk. "I should have listened."

  "Do you even own a pair of boots?"

  I shrug, letting go of her fingers so I can tuck my gloved hands into my pockets. "Probably."

  She laughs, the sound traveling around the empty, cold street. "How do you not know?!"

  I return her smile, flashing icicle lights glinting in her eyes as we go by. "I don't wear them often enough to know for sure."

  Her head shakes, chocolate brown braid swinging back and forth with the movement. "You're silly."

  I give her a look but don't respond. Reaching in front of her, I open the gate to her yard, letting her go ahead of me. Following behind her, I watch her open her door and step instead, her hand holding it open for me. I shut it with my foot when I get inside, keeping my sneakers on instead of leaving them by the door like usual. My butterfly hurriedly shucks off her coat and boots, her gloves peeled back and stuffed into her jacket pocket where it's hung on the wall. It's not until she turns to look at me, rubbing her hands together to warm them up that she notices I haven't taken anything off.

  "What're y
ou doing? Aren't you staying?" Her brow pinches with her question, eyes blinking at me from the end of the foyer.

  Unfortunately for my butterfly, there was one thing that stood out in my dream above everything else. Something I knew I had to do to really make this whole shebang work. I need her fear and confusion. I need her begging and pleading. The thoughts already have my heart thudding as I reach my hand out toward the length of her braid. She doesn't stop me because she has no reason to, letting my hand wrap up in it.

  "Is that a yes?"

  I shake my head at her, watching her lips part when I tug at the braid harder than she anticipated. Her mouth opens in a surprised "O," a hand instinctively slapping onto my wrist to stop my pulling.

  "Ow! What... What are you doing?"

  I walk with her, forcing her to come with me by my hand in her hair. She turns awkwardly, stumbling along behind me as she tries to push my arms away. She hits me a few times in the back but I ignore the short ache, shaking her head a bit to disorient her.

  "Stop! What're you doing?! Stop!"

  I tug her along with me to her living room, ignoring her bellows as we go, knowing my silence does nothing but amp up her fear. I throw her into the grey accent chair there, shoving her chest and forcing her back down when she tries to stand again. She looks like she might try to stand again, but I shake my head at her. Her confusion and growing fear making her obedient.

  "What is happening? Tell me something!"

  I bend, eyes on her as I open the drawer of her side table. I pull out a bundle of nylon rope as she frowns, obviously unaware that I had put it there for this moment.

  "What is that?"

  She tries to bolt, but I stop her, sticking my leg out to trip her. Her hands hit the floor, and she cries out, scrambling to get up and away from me. I quickly grab her hair again, yanking her backward. Letting go, I grab her by the waist and turn sideways to try and throw her back into the chair. Her elbow catches my jaw and I grit my teeth, getting angrier with every second this drags on because of her disobedience. Normally I love a good fight, but tonight, I just want shit to go according to plan. She's stopped trying to speak to me, her words replaced with terror filled yells and bellows.