Payment In Blood

I hate you. God how I hate you.

For making me love you, I hate you. For making me want you, I hate you. For making me need you, I hate you. For taking what's mine, I hate you.

I hate the way you hold onto Angle when you think the camera's not looking. The way you whisper in his ear. The way you made him bleed not so damn long ago.

With every caress you give Rocky's cheek, I hate you. For every hit you give him, I hate you. Everytime you speak to him, I hate you. And now he's bleeding for you, too, and I hate you even more.

They were mine. Just as I am yours. There blood is my blood. My blood is your blood.

Their blood in your veins. Not mine. I hate you more each day my property bleeds for you. You aren't supposed to taste them. I am. They aren't supposed to bleed for you. I am.

Just me.

Just fucking me, god damn it!

You couldn't wait for me, could you? You couldn't wait a few more weeks for my hatred to feed you, to taste it on your lips, to wear it like a badge.

All the promises were bullshit. A pacification. A lie.

Who's next? Who's next in line? Austin? Will you taste his blood next? Will he be the part of you that is mine? Will you steal from him what I gave up for you as well?

I gave up my addiction for you, and you repay me by letting what I gave up satiate you in my absence.

The hatred was ours. Mine. Yours. Not theirs. I stood by my word and gave up the life they bleed for me. I gave it up to feed your craving, and you laugh at me. Mock me.

But there is a price to playing the game.

A price it is now time to pay.

In fucking blood.

Their blood fuels the hatred. Your blood will calm the hatred.

They never run out of blood.

My hatred hopes you don't either, Chris.

Torture. Euphoria. Orgasm. Love. Hate. Pain. Lust. Life. Death. Heaven. Hell.

They all mean the same thing when I bleed for him. Chris pounds me and busts me open, but I feel my essence spilling out for him. For him. For him.

Torture because he cannot taste me then. Torture because he is not the one bleeding me. Torture because I cannot force myself to bleed more for him. For him. For him.

Euphoria because I can feel his hard-on against my thigh, though I am standing next to Chris. Euphoria because I know he wants me. Euphoria because even though he is not here, I am bleeding for him. For him. For him.

Orgasm because I had one knowing he is watching me bleed. Orgasm because he will finish what Chris started. Orgasm because I am the only one for him. For him. For him.

Love because he lets me be. Love because he has set me free from myself. Love because he lets me bleed for him. For him. For him.

Hate because he is not doing this to me. Hate because he only does this when it suits him. Hate because he will let Steve bleed for him. For him. For him.

Pain because it feels so sweet. Pain because I cannot get release. Pain because this is all for him. For him. For him.

Lust because Chris bleeds me so well. Lust because Chris knows he has me right now. Lust because Chris will bleed for him soon. For him. For him.

Life because he is my life. Life because I live to bleed. Life because I live for him. For him. For him.

Death because it will have to end. Death because so will my life. Death because I am dying right now for him. For him. For him.

Heaven because he is bleeding me. Heaven because my chest is wide open and my entire being is spilling out. Heaven because I can bleed completely for him. For him. For him.

Hell because there will be no more after this. Hell because this is the last time I will bleed. Hell because I have no blood left to bleed for him. For him. For him.

It was all for Hunter.

He's lost his mind. I mean, I know Hunter's always been kinda nuts, but he's totally over the edge now. I don't know what I did to push him over, but I know without a doubt it's my fault. I know this because he just ripped my medals from my neck in disgust.

I should have known the first time I bled for him it was a mistake. I should have known that's all he wanted from me. I never should've started this game with him. I never should've have become addicted to the way bleeding makes me feel.

Not just bleeding. Bleeding for him. Feeling *him* cut me open. Feeling *his* lips and tongue tasting my blood. Feeling his orgasm fill me while I bleed.

I didn't want this, you know. All I wanted was a normal relationship. To go to the movies, cuddle at night, and exchange Christmas cards.

And now I am going to die for that mistake...

I am getting ahead of myself, aren't I? I do that a lot, I'm told. I guess I should tell you the events leading up to this point; I just hope I get done before he finishes the job.

I almost jumped out of my skin when I saw him leaving the arena with Rocky. I hadn't expected to see him until Survivor Series, since his doc doesn't like him out on the road. I wanted to run after them, to give him a hug and tell him I love him, but I know he has a way of doing things, and it would be my turn soon enough.

I was alone in my hotel room, getting ready to fall asleep when I heard a knock on the door. Not just any knock- *the* knock. His knock. The knock I am programmed to open. The knock I know is going to mean I won't be able to walk tomorrow. The knock I crave to hear each and every fucking day I don't hear it.

The knock I love.

I've always known he doesn't love me. He's told me he does, and he tells his friends he does, but they know better. They know he loves Chris and I know it too. I just never cared, you know?

So I opened the door, and there he was. Blood all over his hands and lips, blood all over his clothes and boots. My brain screamed at it me that it was too much blood as I let him in the door. My brain screamed at me that something was different as he threw me across the room. My brain screamed at me when he tied my hands and legs to the bed before he started to bleed me.

Now, back to the present.

Not only is he cutting me, but he's fucking me hard and fast right now, so the pain and pleasure are all running into this sticky ooze of blood. With each thrust of his cock he cuts one more inch of flesh on my back, and I wonder if this is what happened to Dwayne, or if he is doing this especially for me.

He laughs intermittently at the mewls and gurgles that are echoing out of my throat, and I am teetering on the edge of madness. I mean, I should be screaming so someone will come and save me. I'm not, though, because it just feels too god damned good when the tip of the knife gracefully slides just under my sac. I can feel my seed and my blood seeping out of them, and for

the first time I am thankful I can't actually see him cutting me, thankful for this blindfold over my face.

He's stroking my cock with the edge of the knife as he fucks me, and I try so hard to give him the orgasm he's begging for, but I can barely move my hips now. I can feel my torso laying open, my insides spilling out before the grace of my God, and I know that soon he will have cut me completely.

I know this should be hurting. My brain is screaming at me again, telling me that I have lost too much blood. Telling me that it was a mistake to bleed for him in the first place. I'm not listening, as usual. All I can feel is the total ecstasy of his knife slicing me while he fucks me.

I can feel the darkness taking me, and he's still fucking me. He stopped cutting a few minutes ago, and I can tell that he's watching the blood ooze out with the same rapture I have from losing it to him. My brain is still trying to tell me that this isn't right.

Just as I am about to lose all reality he shoots his seed into me, and now I can die as blissfully as I always knew I would, even the way I knew I would, but first I want him to hear my last words.

"Hunter, you're my favorite mistake."

It's about 4:00 A.M., and I'm just now getting to my hotel room after leaving CJ's. I don't even look at the stain I know is on the floor in front of my door as I slide in the card-key, 'cause I already know what it is and who brought it here. It's blood. I don't know whose, but it ain't mine, and I know Hunter is the reason it's here.

I really hadn't planed on havin' to deal with him for another week or so, but hell, why not just get it overwith now, right? I just wish I had known he was comin' so I coulda came home ealier. So I woulda known not to go over to CJ's.

Fuck it all to hell why didn't I take that shower before I left CJ's hotel room? And why the fuck does it even matter?

"What the hell do you want Hunt?" The words are outta my mouth before I can catch 'em, and I can see the smirk on his face without even lookin' at him. I know exactly what he wants, and he knows I know it, but he answers me anyway.

"Well, Steve. I figured since I was already out this way, I'd--" He stops mid-sentence when he sees me. I was hopin' I'd make it to the bathroom to get cleaned up before he saw me, but he'd have seen what Chris was doin' to me eventually anyway, so I guess it don't really matter.

"You were with, Chris, weren't you?" The look on his face when he sees the blood on my shirt twists into something really demented, even for him, and for the first time since I've known him, I think I might be a little afraid.

"We were just wrestlin', blowin' off some steam, 'Sides, you don't own me nomore, so I don't have to answer to you. Go ask him what the fuck we were doin', and he'll tell you the same damn thing." I know that's bullshit, but I ain't about to tell him what we were doin'. It's none of his damn business, like I said.

"You are so going to pay for this, Austin" he bellows and his eyes seem to've taken on a redish glow, like he's possessed or somethin'. I really just don't wanna deal with this. I'm too god damned tired.

"I think you outta leave, Hunt. I'm goin' through this shit with you, and I'll be damned if you think I'm-"

Before I know it, he's on top of me, like he flew across the fuckin' room or somethin', and I'm so shocked I can't even push him off a me. No matter what I do, he seems to counter it before it's done, and I know I should just quit fightin' and let him fuck me or bleed me or whatever, just so he'll fucking leave. But there's somethin' tellin' me that if I don't fight, it's gonna be more than his dick in my ass and a knife on my back, so I just keep fightin'

Sometime during the brawl, CJ musta came in through the open door, because he's tryin' his damndest to break us apart, screamin' at Hunt to let me the fuck alone. Hunt brings his knee down on my face, jammin' my nose upward, and for a second, I think I'm dead. Then the pain hits and my vision goes blurry.

Well, fuck, I'm gonna die and that's gonna leave CJ alone with this crazy bastard. The last thing I hear before my world turns black is Hunter's sadistic voice sayin':

"Now, Chrissy... time to pay the piper..."

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Hunter?" I heard the words echoing off the walls, but I don't know how I managed to get them out of my throat considering his hands are wrapped around it like a vice. I try to pry them off, but it's no use. I kick at him and he moves farther down on my legs to still me.

This isn't good. This isn't good at all. I'm going to die, just like Steve. At least, I think Steve's dead- he's not moving and I'm pretty sure that knee sent his nose into his brain.

I knew I should've stayed in my room. I knew I should've stayed out of whatever the fuck Steve and Hunter were arguing over, but... Fuck, what the hell else am I supposed to do when it sounds like someone's killing someone? Right, I coulda stayed out of it and minded my own business, and then I wouldn't be dizzy and my brain wouldn't feel like it's exploding and I could breathe...

Hunter's talking to me, but I can't really make it out. It's like he's relly talking to himself, and I just happen to be here to listen, you know? When I came in here, I had my suspitions about him being crazy, but I think that's pretty well confirmed now; he's definately bonkers.

And, why? Because I made them bleed for me. Because I didn't want to wait for him to get here to satisfy a need... an addiction. That's what an addiction is, after all: the impatience to wait to satisfy a fucking need! Hell, they came to me in the first damn place! Didn't he understand that?

Well, obviously *not* Chris, if he's choking you to fucking death!

For a brief second his grip eases up, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna lay here and find out why, so I buck my body and push him with my arms as hard as I possibly can, and... it works! He's off of me, looking rather dazed by the suddeness of my defensive attack. So I do what any mormal person would do- haul my ass up and run like a bat out of hell toward my room...

Only to be dragged down by one strong yank of my hair...

Fuck that hurt. I really should have planned my escape before I made one, eh?

Seeing my door open, he drags me kicking, biting and half-screaming, to my room and locks the door behind us once we are completely inside.

Yeah, I said half-screaming, because even though I know he's completely lost his fucking crackers, I can't help but get hard by all of this. What can I say? I've never seen him this fucking aggressive, and it turns me on- sue me for being fucking human.

"Guess what time it is, Chrissy?" he asks me as he ties me to the chair, like I can see a fucking clock, right?

"Um, time to play the Game-ah?" Yes, it does occur to me that my sarcasm is going to be the end of me, but hell, what do you want from me? I can't just stop being me because I might or might not die.

He's looking at me like I might have lost my mind, and maybe I have- at least he's got company on his trip to la-la land.

I know the smile that's creeping across his face should send some kind of fear shockwave through me, considering he just killed Steve, but it's not. In fact, it seems to have the exact opposite effect, because I can feel my already hard cock getting harder the more psycho he gets, and I can't help but think that all this is just his way of telling me how much he's missed me.

He never does tell me what time it is, but instead starts wrapping some kind of thin cord- wire, maybe- around my chest, arms, legs, throat and cock. Feels pretty good, too- not to tight but not too loose, and I marvel at how well he is at this Top thing. Hell, I always figured him for a bottom, so that's what I use him as.

So fucking good... His lips are wrapping around my cock, until I feel like I am going to explode right there, even as he twines the cords/wires around my cock and throat even tighter, and I think I might panic now, because I can feel the blood rushing down my neck and thighs.

Oh god, it feels good and painful all at the same time, lustful and dirty. I love it like this, when the blood flows, because it's so right and wrong all at the same time, but I think I feel too much blood escaping from me...

I can't scream and I can't move, and he's just smiling up at me like it's all going to be okay, and I think I might believe him. Even though I can barely feel my legs and arms, yet my flesh is screaming because it's being severed form my body. Even though I can feel the tide of darkness ebbing ever so close, as close as my orgasm is. Even though in the back of my brain I know that he's bleeding me to death...

But I know he's not really going to kill me, he *does* love me after all.

Right?

I am at my old high school, but it's really a composite of every school I went to in my life. I have no idea why I am here. I'm talking to my old drama teacher, and I hear the glass crack and Austin's entrance theme. I guess the whole fed is here ... except there is no Chris. I know if Chris was here, none of this would be happening.

{Just a dream, Hunter, wake up!}

Anyway, so Steve is talking to the kids and I am about to stab myself through the head with a toothpick due to all the "What?"s after every other word. "You are all going to graduate. What? You all know you need to vote. What?" I hate his new gimmick, and after a barrage of "What?What?What?What?" I couldn't take it anymore and shouted "Stone Cold's a fucktard. What?"

Well, Steve is lookin' around to see who said it, as is the deranged crowd, but I'm gone. *I* ran the fuck away! I never run from anything, especially not Steve. Well, he goes barreling' through the crowd, which has parted like the Red Sea, and I am so far fucking gone that I don't even know where I am.

{Just a dream, Hunter, wake up}

The school twists into some weird "Frighteners" kind of house. Ever see that movie? Good flick, but the way the outside of the house connected to the hospital looked, all evil and warped, really gives me the creeps.

Well, anyway, everything looks like that, and Steve is like right on my ass. He didn't really look any different except that he doesn't have on the knee braces, and is wearing a really tight pair of jeans and one of Rocky's black mock turtle sweaters that was really fucking tight, too.

He's talking to me the whole time, and not even really running, more like *floating* barely above ground, and I know he could grab me if he wanted to, but his voice is really deep and calm, almost fucking *SULTRY*, lord help me, this isn't happening, and he just keeps saying "You can run from us, but you can't hide, Hunter."

{Just a dream, Hunter, wake up}

I just keep running, crawling through vents and windows, screaming without sound. Every time I think I've lost him, he's right fucking there, and I really start to panic, and he just laughs, not a demonic or evil laugh, a sort of lustful laugh that makes my skin crawl for more than one reason.

I am vaguely aware that this chase is really making me fucking horny as hell, even though I am scared out of my mind, and finally I just get tired of running faster and faster to nowhere, so I just run into a bathroom and lock the door. I brace myself against the door for a few minutes before moving over to the mirror.

{Just a dream, Hunter, wake up!}

My reflection isn't staring back at me, instead it's his and he's smiling at me. The mirror is a full length-from-floor-to-ceiling job, and he's walking toward me, even though I'm not moving. I can't move. My mind screams for me to move, but my body is riveted to the floor.

Then they all appear. Steve. Dwayne. Kurt. Moving toward me, smiling, like they know something I don't. Chris is in the mirror now, too. My poor Chris, who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time when I snapped...

They are all so beautiful.

All so dead...

{HUNTER WAKE UP!}

I'm crying. It was just a dream, and still I'm crying. I know it was a dream. I've been having the same dream for almost a year now, and I still cry when I wake up. Because Chris wasn't supposed to bleed for me.

Chris wasn't supposed to die. None of them were. They weren't supposed to run out of blood...

When I look in the mirror, I see someone that is not me.

It was just a dream at first, but it's turned into a nightmare. A nightmare that is never going to end. A nightmare that I've lived everyday since the day I bled them completely. A nightmare I cannot wake up from, even when I am awake. Even when I cut myself. Even when I bleed for him.

I have too much blood. It's not even my blood anymore. It's theirs. Now that Chris is dead, Steve bleeds me, and I can't make him stop. Only he can make it stop, but he won't make it stop. He seems to think that if he does this, they will rest in peace. I'm so fucked up over it all that I can't find an argument to that.

They won't let me live and Steve won't let me die. Not until only my blood is left to bleed. Not until he has bled them out of my soul.

Not until he can bleed me from me.