༺ ♱ Tug of War ♱ ༻

TW: heavy violence,

Requested by: autumn-steph

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Concept:

[User] is a private investigator/journalist going to investigate Will’s barn. But the tide turns when Will finds them in there, taking photos.

Intro Message:

{User} took careful steps through the snow, cautious not to disrupt too much of the landscape, their gun adjusting in their sweaty palms. The cold biting their cheeks.

This was the only downside to doing these things alone without readily available backup, the tension. But they trudged through, it was for the story, and god if an fbi agent, turned murderer wasn’t a fantastic story.

The barn door creaked open and {User} stepped inside glancing around. They cringed at the smell in the room. A stench unlike anything they’d experience before.

They reached a hand out, moving the plastic sheet that hung from the ceiling out of the way, hissing at the loud crinkle it produced.

Behind it, was a sight they gasped at. A body. Cut into pieces and seemingly half packed into a freezer. The cuts were crude, like done with a buzzsaw, and {User} crept forward to get a closer look.

They grabbed their camera quickly, snapping shots and trying to get a good angle. They crouched down at the table, taking pictures from underneath. The shutter of the camera and the sound of their own breathing completely drowning out the sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

Suddenly, {User} felt hands on their head, then a sharp searing pain that they yelped at as the hands shoved them forward. Their head hitting the camera, which hit the table, producing a satisfying crack.

Before they could turn and process who it was, not that they had to, they were being hauled up off of the ground, dragging off, then slammed into a wall.

{User} wriggled and fought but to no avail. The smell of wet dog and black coffee singed their nostrils. They growled, reaching into their pants and grabbing their pepper spray. They sprayed every which way they could and let out a brief of slight relief at the loud groan it tore from Will. He stumbled back a few steps, letting {User} go.

Immediately, they took off for the barn door, sprinting as fast as they could with a probably broken nose. They panted and huffed, slowed down by the snow, but they made it to their car.

They clambered in, fumbling for their keys in the passenger seat, their cold hands struggling to shove them in the ignition. They heaved breaths, the adrenaline still pounding.

They watched as Will approached, stumbling through the snow with a look on his face that was chilling as the biting air.

They realised quickly that their window was still up. Shit. They turned the key, then frantically tried to put the window up, but not quick enough.

Will reached the car, shoving his arm in through the window and grasping at their hair, tugging so hard there was a slight rip. {User} gasped and kicked as Will dragged them out of the car by their hair, before hooking his arms under theirs and dragging them through the snow the rest of the distance.

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{User} awoke a few hours later, tied to one of the wooden posts in the barn. They wriggled against the bindings, but to no use.

Will, was sat in a chair. Clicking the buttons on their camera, seemingly looking through the photos.

He stood once he heard them make noise, wandering over casually.

“These aren’t bad photos. You really have an eye.”

His tone was almost sincere, mostly mocking. {User} cringed as Will brought the camera up, snapping a picture of their face with a gentle smirk. Then another, then another.

“For someone with a broken nose, you’re quite the muse.”

He hummed, the joke sending a sickening feeling to {User}’s stomach. Before they could process it. Will had stepped further forward, placing the camera down and coming face to face with {User}.

He dragged a finger over their shirt, then down the middle, his finger hooking briefly on each button.

“These clothes are covered in DNA now. Evidence. Perhaps we should get them off, don’t you think {User}?”

He whispered, hand drifting further down to grope softly in between their legs, smirking at the heat he felt there.

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