Living with Samuel was both better and worse than Ashton had expected. His emotional ups and downs were fairly drastic and though it was easy to tell what sort of mood he was in, none were particularly good. In the morning, Samuel insisted they shower together, during which time, Ashton's skin was scrubbed within an inch of its life. His hair was ripped out as Samuel's rough hands lathered him quickly. He was not gentle with him, but instead treated him as if he was constantly wearing a three inch layer of filth. In actuality, he'd never lived cleaner.
During Samuel's other showers, Ashton was made to sit on the toilet and wait for him to finish. A lock was placed on the front door opened only by passcode, even from the inside. So when Samuel was at work, Ashton never attempted to leave.
All of that aside, when Samuel wasn't home, life was fairly straightforward. Make no trace of being in the house. Wash clothes. Eat something small. Plan escape. Learn house.
While Samuel was home it was entirely different. When he wasn't anxiously walking around doing one thing or another, he was watching Ashton like a hawk, waiting for him to do something - anything incorrectly.
Ashton placed Tupperware on the table to store breakfast from that morning. Samuel was still there, laying his head on the table in his folded arms. His eyes watched him, scanning...waiting. Ashton shifted uneasily. His hands began unconsciously shaking as he attempted to move the food from plates to containers.
"Going to work today?" Ashton asked in an attempt to break the tense silence. Instead of speaking, Samuel's finger curled into the table, scratching it. He scratched hard, wearing a mark into the table. His gaze was so hateful, it gave Ashton chills. He was in a foul mood today. It wasn't so much a bad mood. It was a deadly one. Ashton needed to get him out of it.
He gingerly placed his fingers overtop of Samuel's scratching hand.
"Are...are you okay?" He asked softly. Samuel's eyes narrowed and Ashton's wrist was roughly snagged, a vice-like grip tightening around it. Ashton shot up from surprise, but Samuel remained sitting, still with his head on the table. He squeezed Ashton's wrist, the young man trying to pull away without getting in further trouble.
"Sam... ugh, that hurts...please stop!" He whimpered. He didn't stop. Ashton moved around the table, getting to his knees. He attempted to pry Samuel's fingers off him, pulling at his arm.
"Samuel! You're gonna break my wrist! Please let go!" Ashton shouted.
As if coming out of a trance, Samuel blinked, his hand opening, knocking Ashton backwards. He rubbed his sore wrist, pushing himself back away from his captor. Samuel stood from the table, stepping out of the kitchen.
"Go take a shower," he instructed, pulling his own shirt over his head. Ashton nodded, quickly getting up. Samuel's shirt was thrown at him.
"Put that in the laundry too," he demanded, moving into the hallway. He slid his fingers into the door latch for the basement, pulling it open. A few moments later, the song was blaring downstairs. Not wanting any part of anything happening down there, Ashton jumped to his feet, quickly doing as he'd been told. The laundry room had a glass door to the back yard which also had a passcode lock on it. Though, he was only allowed to go into the back yard with Samuel. The walls around the yard were ten feet high and made of cement. On the other side of the room was a door that Ashton had never been able to get into, though he had tried. It was always locked, just like the green door next to the front. Ashton assumed that one to be a garage door since he always left through it in the morning for work.
After putting Samuel's shirt in the washing machine, he heard the grinding sound of the electric bone saw. His body quivered, realizing it had been the first time Samuel had been down there in a while. He was shocked the smell hadn't risen.
Out of the back door, Ashton saw clouds looming in the sky, darkened by rain. They would have quite a storm it seemed.
Ashton showered as he'd been instructed and planted himself in the living room, turning on the television. If there wasn't anything on, he'd go take a nap or something, though he desperately wanted to occupy his mind.
"...still missing. Police are completely baffled by their officer, Keith Miller's, disappearance. It appeared the officer turned off not only his body cam, but also any device able to track him at 7:00 am on September first, and hasn't been seen since. His cruiser showed up abandoned on the side of Pliato road a day after his vanishing, but no trace of Miller could be found inside. Though he lives alone, close friends are still waiting and hoping for positive news-"
Click.
Ashton stared at the blank TV as another whirring, grinding noise sounded from downstairs. He leaped off the couch and ran for the bathroom. Lifting the seat and lid, his stomach lurched as he vomited. He rested his head on his arm as he leaned against the toilet, his stomach in tight knots. The music eventually stopped. Ashton hated that song. Thunder rumbled outside. Was the storm already here?
He closed his eyes, thinking about hiding out somewhere for a while until Samuel got out of his funk. No doubt he'd go into the bathroom after what he'd been doing. He would be itching for a shower.
Through the silence, Ashton could hear steady, slow thuds. He looked out the bathroom door to the hallway, the thudding getting closer. Ashton's heart picked up its pace, hammering loudly in his ears. Samuel's slow, heavy footsteps were leaving a putrid, red tinted trail down the hallway. Ashton crawled from the toilet, poking his head out and watching him leave to the back door. Very slowly, Samuel punched the key into the back door, opening it. He stepped outside into the pouring rain. Ashton sneakily crept to the laundry room, looking outside.
Samuel stood, face towards the heavens as rain pelted his body. Several liquids washed off him as he stared upwards.
"They tell me your blue skies fade to gray..." He mumbled. Ashton stood up, looking outside.
"Sam! You're gonna catch a cold!" Ashton called out. Nearly black eyes looked to him for a moment. Water dripped down his face. His clothes were totally drenched. Ashton sighed, standing on wobbly feet. He couldn't imagine how much worse he would be with a cold.
He jogged out into the yard, taking Samuel's hand and leading him back inside. He walked like a zombie, not looking up or moving much unless moved.
"Do you wanna...take those clothes off?" Ashton asked as they stood, dripping in the laundry room. Samuel didn't speak. He looked to the hallway, not moving. He was still wearing the apron and his pants were still drenched in something foul.
He walked behind him, untying the straps to the apron, pulling it off and over Samuel's drenched head.
"You need to take your pants off," Ashton said, pushing the disgusting apron into the washing machine. Samuel, still, didn't move. Ashton sighed, taking his own shirt off since it was soaked through. He moved over to the linen closet, pulling out a pair of towels.
"Sam...let's take a shower. You'll feel better," he suggested. He still refused to move. The younger man sighed, moving close to him again. He nervously undid Samuel's belt, pulling it off. His wrist was clamped up by cold, wet fingers.
"Get the fuck off me, Ashton," he growled at him. He carefully pulled his arm out of Samuel's grasp.
"You're not going to feel better until you're clean. I know you. Please, take your pants off," he whispered. Samuel looked away, clearly still in a wretched mood. Ashton didn't want to think about why he was acting this way. He couldn't or he would throw up again.
Ashton huffed, walking out of the laundry room and giving the gross footprints in the hallway a wide berth. He went into the bedroom and picked up the purple perfume bottle, spraying it onto his wrists and rubbing it onto his neck and chest. He moved quickly back into the laundry room where Samuel remained, having not budged an inch. Before he approached him, Ashton's eyes caught sight of the buttons on side of the door. The numbers 8, 5 and 6 were covered in strange sticky fluid. He didn't look at it long, not wanting Samuel to notice him looking at it. His heart jumped to his throat. He could figure out the passcode.
He moved over to Samuel, more carefully this time. As he'd hoped, Samuel's body relaxed. He stepped closer, dropping his soaked head onto Ashton's shoulder.
"You smell so good..." He whispered. Ashton swallowed, knowing what he'd gotten himself into. But this was the only way to sedate him and keep him calm. He would be furious to find Ashton had let him stay dirty the whole night.
"Okay, take your pants off," he tried again. Samuel smiled, turning his nose into his neck, inhaling deeply.
"Take my pants off," he whispered.
"Like a fucking light switch..." Ashton thought to himself. At first, he was as put off by Samuel's strange advances as ever. But this time, it might work in his favor. He needed him in a good mood. More importantly, he needed him asleep. He wanted to check out the code box before the morning when Samuel would likely clean it or reset it.
"Okay...okay, how about, you get undressed and I'll get your shower started and after that, we do whatever you want?" He suggested. This was the only chance he was going to get. He wasn't about to let it get away.
"Mmmhhhh," Samuel purred against him, sliding his hands up Ashton's back. The smell from Samuel's clothes was still too much. Ashton gently wriggled out of his arms.
"Okay, just...get yourself undressed. Please, I'll get your shower started," he said, leaving the room.
"856, 856, 856," he repeated to himself. The shower was a hassle and a half. Samuel was beyond the realm of reality. He had, Ashton assumed, convinced himself the young man was someone else. He assumed a woman, though he wasn't sure how. But, because of it, he was annoyingly touchy and all Ashton could do was let it happen for fear that he would snap out of it and get angry with him again.
After the shower and once back to the bedroom, Sam barely let Ashton dry him off before grabbing him up again.
"Let's have another baby..." He whispered. Ashton's ears burned from those words. Baby? This guy had a child? He supposed it made sense given the number of items in the house that would usually go to a kid.
His back hit the bed before he knew what was happening.
"Wait! Wait, let's uhh...let's have a drink first, please, I need a drink -" Ashton tried. Samuel's entire weight was on top of him, one hand gripping the back of his head, pulling his hair. The other wandered.
"You're so beautiful..." He whispered into Ashton's ear. A full chill ran up Ashton's spine. Whomever Samuel was imagining him to be must have been important to him. Strong hands clenched his thighs and pulled his sweatpants down. Ashton took a breath. It would be worth it. It would be okay. His lips worked down Ashton's throat as he pressed firmly against him, his hips grinding into him. Ashton wrapped his arms around his neck, trying to calm himself down.
"Gentle...gentle," he mumbled.
"You're fine," Samuel assured, though Ashton wondered about that. His breathing quickened as his nerves ran rampant. Ashton's knees lifted up around Samuel's hips, his body shook, afraid for the incoming pain. This would hurt. He knew it was going to.
He clenched his teeth together and hissed in a breath, feeling the searing pain and heat. Tears streamed down his face. He wove his fingers into Samuel's black hair, clenching and quivering. He didn't expect Sam to care. He didn't expect the soothing kisses or the gentle rubbing of his side. He didn't expect him to stop and wait. Yet he did. He had been normal once. He had been good to someone. What happened to make him this way? Ashton closed his eyes and relaxed through the rest of Sam's attention.
Once Samuel fully fell to sleep, Ashton broke a sweat trying to remove himself from the strong embrace. As Sam was normally a light sleeper, Ashton nearly had a heart attack with every creak in the bed or jostle of the mattress.
When he finally made it off the bed, he crept into the kitchen to grab a pen, writing down as many variations of the numbers 856 in a four digit sequence that he could think of. As he wrote them all down, he grumbled. This would take a while.
YOU ARE READING
Replacement
KorkuAshton finds himself trapped in a strange basement with a man who seems to know more about him than he knows about himself. Escape is much easier said than done as this ruthless and frightening man unravels before him.
