Kay
The Collector - 3/? (*slash*)
For disclaimer and such, see part one.
Thanks for all your support!
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~ADAM'S POV~
It's over. I feel him tense, his fingers digging into my hips as he spurts into me. I can feel the
warmth of his vile seed as it fills me. My wrists are raw and bleeding where I have struggled so
hard to get away from him, but as I lay here with pillows stuffed underneath my lower abdomen,
lifting my ass up so that I'm open and vulnerable to him, escape seems impossible.
Is this how the victim before me felt? Helpless and so alone.
I try to control the trembling of my body as he roughly withdraws from me. "That was one hell of
a ride, bitch," he whispers in my ear.
That voice, I know it. He's disguising it, but it's so familiar.
I try to control my sobs, but I'm so scared and hurting so bad that I can't stop the tears as I break
down and cry in front of him.
He laughs. He fucking laughs at my pain. I jump as he slaps my abused ass hard as he crawls off
the bed. Bastard. If I was free, I would kill him.
As I lay in this uncomfortable position, I can feel his seed as it seeps from me, trickling slowly
down my thighs. I don't have to look to know that it's mixed with my blood.
He had fucked me with such anger. He didn't even bother to prepare me, just lifted my hips and
took me raw and hard. As I look back now, my screams urged him on.
A shiver runs down my spine as I feel him crawl back on the bed. "Did you miss me?" He
whispers softly, as he places soft kisses along my spine.
I want to spit in his face, but I merely remain silent.
He chuckles, "I really enjoyed fucking you. Did you enjoy it?"
It's all I can do to keep from screaming as his hands start to explore my body.
I want to scream at him to leave me alone. Curse him. Call him every foul name that I've ever
heard, but I don't.
Instead I whisper what I know he wants to hear. "Please, let me go," I plead softly.
"Let me think," he whispers as he pauses. "No," he retorts with a slight giggle in his laugh.
I know that I can't get on his bad side, but I can't become too boring and predictable. As sick and
twisted as that sounds, it will be the only thing keeping me alive. Once I become boring to him,
I'm dead. My blood will mingle with those who came before me.
I'm almost grateful as he removes the pillows and allows me to lay flat again.
He touches the wound on my leg and I scream.
"Believe it or not, it's healing quite well," he remarks, seemingly proud of his handiwork.
"Although, I'm afraid that all you get is a sponge bath until it heals. Can't have you all smelly, now
can I?"
He can't be serious! But as the cool wetness of the wash rag touches my skin, I feel nauseous. I'm
overwhelmed by all my emotions, and I can't stop the tears as they form in my eyes. Maybe I
should anger him, and let him kill me now. Death had to be better than this, right? God, help me. I
can't last much longer.
~HUNTER'S POV~
I feel slightly uncomfortable as I sit across from the huge man. His presence is very intimidating,
and I can see why most cops avoided him at all cost.
"What about Adam?" He growls in slight irritation.
I could tell when I said Adam's name that he still had feelings for him. The longing in his eyes said
it all.
"I need to know if you've seen him recently," I reply calmly.
"Nope," he quickly retorts.
The news is on the television above the bar and it's talking about the collector and his latest
victim. The guy behind the bar turns up the volume. Mark follows my eyes to the screen where
the picture of Chris Jericho is displayed.
Mark frowns as he looks at me. "Tell me that this "Collector" doesn't have Adam," he growls.
I lower my eyes. Mark may be a lot of things, but he's not a serial killer. I know he's committed a
murder before, but nothing as cruel and inhuman as what the Collector is doing.
When I don't answer, he stands and grabs me by the throat, throwing me against the nearest
wall. I gasp for air as he hauls me up.
"Does he have Adam?"
I can hear the desperation in his voice along with the anger.
"Yes," I choke out, glad to finally tell someone.
He drops me and I hold my throat, gasping for air.
"Adam," he whispers softly, before looking down at me. "He's killed six men, why can't you stop
him?" He asks accusingly.
"He's clever. He covers his tracks," I reply.
"There's no such thing as a perfect murder. Doesn't your police academy teach you that?" He
growls. "Come here."
I'm caught off guard as he hauls me up and sits me into a chair across from him.
I see the anger building inside of him and the rest of his biker gang.
"I need to know what Adam was like in order to find him," I whisper.
"Adam was an angel," Mark whispered with his head bowed.
"Why did you break up?"
"He had dreams of becoming a doctor. He wanted to help people."
"So he left you?"
"Have you ever heard that old saying, "If you love something, set it free..."
"If it comes back to you, it was meant to be," I finish.
"Yeah," he whispers.
"I need your help," I whisper. Breaking every code in the book, but I couldn't do this alone. Every
police specialist and profiler couldn't figure this case out, maybe some unorthodox methods were
needed.
"I'll tear this city apart looking for him," Mark growls, as he motions for his gang to get ready for a
hunt.
"Save the killer for me," I reply.
He looks at me and smiles, "If there is anything left of him."
As I watch them storm out and get on their bikes, I feel relieved that there is another just as
dedicated as I am in finding Adam.
I look down at my list. Adam's friend Trish had given me a list of people that Adam knew. Some of
them co-workers and some of them ex-lovers.
I look at the first name, Jason Reso. Trish had said that Jason was weird and that he had tried to
force Adam into sexual intercourse in the morgue. Not too unusual, but Jason had insisted that
they prop the corpses up so they could watch.
I look at the next name, Jeff Hardy. Hardy, why did that name sound familiar? The first victim
had been Matthew Hardy. Were they related? Jeff had been Adam's most recent lover. I had
kept that piece of information away from Mark, but I had a feeling that Mark would find out soon
enough.
~KILLER'S POV~
I smile as I look down at him. He's fresh and clean.
I'm so tempted to reveal myself to him, and watch the look of surprise upon his face as he looks
upon my angelic face. That's what he once called me....his angel.
Little did he realize that I would soon become his angel of death.
I remember back to my first time with him. I had been so gentle with him, thinking that he was
an innocent to male/male sex. It wasn't until later that I discovered that he was a whore. He had
slept with others. He was unclean. Unpure.
I feel the bile rise in my throat. He had betrayed me. I want to hurt him some more, listen to him
scream for mercy, but I restrain myself.
I have all the time in the world to play with him, to make him pay, to make him feel pain.
Adam would be a part of my collection soon, and none of his previous lovers could save him. He
would be mine forever.
~TBC~
