Violent Delights¹︎ | D.Dixon

3.01 ➸

So, I know I told you guys that I wouldn't be putting warnings in my stories, and this will be the only one, but I wanted to reiterate the importance of knowing your triggers. Please, go back and read the warnings before reading this part. Put yourself first.

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CHAPTER ONE
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THE SUN WAS SHINING BRIGHTLY, casting rays down over the blacktop, refracting off millions of scattered pieces of shattered glass. The black SUV was still rocking side to side when the engine started to smoke, a dark plume floating up into the midday sky, casting a dark stain over the ground as Leona began to wake.

Blood. There was blood, and more blood. She could smell it like an overpowering perfume long before she managed to pull her eyes open. Its stench filled the vehicle, clinging to the leather seats and the dash as it pooled on the roof above - no, below her head. She was hanging upside down, and the ends of her hair were mixed in with the blood that was dripping from -

She needed to focus.

Squinting, Leona looked over the skin of her arms, searching for cuts worthy of the pool of blood beneath her head, but found nothing beyond superficial scratches from the glass of the shattered windshield. That was when she noticed the rope tying her hands together over the bulge of her stomach, crimson flecks staining the material. Then, her eyes met her reflection in the broken mirror to her right, and remembered. The cut carved meticulously into her features was difficult to miss, and it had begun to bleed again.

Turning to glance in the driver's seat, she let out a small scream at the sight of the man. There was nothing left of his face other than torn flesh and sinew, his features ripped away from his skull.

"Get in the car lady," the man demanded. He had one deep, jagged scar cutting through his left brow, over the eye socket, and stopped when it reached his cheekbone, long since healed. It gave him a feral look, one that terrified Leona almost as much as the gun he had pointed at her swollen abdomen, threatening the unborn life inside of her. "I won't ask again."

She did as he asked, keeping her movements slow as she did so, and he shoved her into the back seat of his SUV. Her head slammed against the opposite window from the force, stunning her for a single moment, and he climbed in after her.

His scar had been obliterated by the impact of the guard rail on the bridge, as had the rest of his features. She could only just make out the outline of his ear behind a head of black hair, matted to the ripped flesh by his own blood.

She hoped he was alive before she woke up, suffering like he'd made other women suffer, but the spray of blood over the broken steering wheel and shattered windshield could have been from his face slamming against it.

It was the least the fucker deserved for not wearing his seatbelt.

His legs were crushed under the dash, and it held him in place, hanging upside down beside her like a slab of meat on a hook with his arms stretching out below him.

Leona's heart was still pounding in her ears, adrenaline pumping through her veins, as the sound of voices reached her.

Had Michonne and Andrea found her already? No, they couldn't have. They didn't have a car, and he'd been driving for at least an hour. And she'd been gone for...she couldn't remember how long. Hours? Days, maybe?

Leona blinked again, using her bound hands to gently rub the blood away from her eyes. She needed out. Out of the SUV, out of whatever fucking place he'd driven her to, and away from the people walking toward the car.