Taming the Wild

Pilot

Sarah Dashner waited in the reclining chair her father gave her as a house warming gift to her new apartment. The leather was warm due to her not moving for an extended period of time. Her eyes were glued to the front door, with a blanket wrapped around her to keep her warm. The TV was tuned to an infomercial about a chopping apparatus. She secretly made a note to herself to get one. She tucked a strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear and sighed as she flipped the channel. Another infomercial about a weight loss pill filled the screen. She viewed herself as beautiful, but she still felt inferior to the models that portrayed the results of this revolutionary medical breakthrough.

She heard footsteps coming up the metal staircase outside. Her eyes rolled as she noticed the time. The door opened and the broad figure entered the room. The light was dim but she knew who he was.

"How's your wife?" she asked as she turned down the volume.

"She's fine. She says hello." The deep voice of the large male broke the silence of the room. "Do you want anything?"

"No, I'll get it myself." She pulled the blanket off of her and set it on the back of the chair. She almost made it to the kitchen area when she heard a loud pop, fizzing, the sound of liquid splashing on the floor, and a snarl. She didn't even see inside the kitchen yet but knew there was already a mess. She stopped at the entrance and banged her head gently on the wall.

She had just cleaned the kitchen.

"Please just get out of the kitchen for a sec, let me clean it up AGAIN!" She waited until she heard sticky footsteps cross the threshold of the kitchen before she looked up. The muscle bound male stood in front of her with an apologetic look on his face. It was sincere, but also extremely embarrassed.

"I just wanted some…" she put a finger to his lips and sighed.

"I know. Take the clothes off and I'll put them in the laundry." She gave another sigh of relief as she noticed he was only wearing a black hoodie and basketball shorts this time. She also noticed the shorts were put on backwards and he wasn't wearing anything underneath. Less to clean, she thought.

Inside the kitchen she saw the culprit on the floor next to the fridge. The beer smell wafted up her nose and made her slightly throw up in her mouth. She hated the smell and couldn't understand why anybody would ever drink it. He liked it, so she made it a point to always have some ready for him. It took her another half hour to clean and to get the smell out of her kitchen. By then she also prepared a sandwich with the leftover brisket she had in the fridge when she went to a friend's wedding shower at a BBQ restaurant. She opened another can of beer and poured it into a plastic cup. She knew better than to put it in glass, due to previous experiences.

"Can I come in?"

"Are you wearing some kind of pants?" She asked not even looking up.

"Yeah."

"Then yes. Here's your beer and I made you a sandwich." She looked to see the man in black basketball shorts like the ones he had on earlier.

"It's cooked." He stated as he poked at the cold meat between the slices of bread.

"Yeah, I know."

"I don't eat cooked." He turned his nose up at it and folded his arms across his defined, bare chest.

"A restaurant isn't going to sell me raw meat. I had to badger them to get it as rare as humanly possible without the chance of them getting sued for health code violations." Her eyelids lowered in annoyance.

"I don't want it."

"Oh my goodness; you are being a little baby about this. Just eat the damn sandwich or don't. It won't hurt my feelings if you don't. I know you are hungry and I know you don't like my food, so eat it. I know you like it cold, so eat it before it heats up to room temperature."

"Where do you think you are going?" He snapped as she turned to walk out of the kitchen.

"I'm tired. It's four in the morning and I wanted to make sure you got in safely. I'm going to bed."

"I'm in the mood tonight." He said with his mouth full, apparently giving up on the argument about the cooked meat.

"Rich… I'm not. It's been a long day and I have wor…" He banged the counter with his fist.

"I'm in the mood tonight." He reiterated a little frustrated.

"Richey… please just let me sleep…"

He turned to her with an icy stair. His muscles started to tense as he glared. He slowly walked towards her. Intimidation was definitely present. She was fearful but stood her ground. A bad move. Her left side of her face started to burn as if being placed right next to a stove burner. The back of his hand was also as red as her cheek. She swore she could taste blood. She swallowed, knowing if even a drip of blood was seen, it would only turn him on even more.

"You know what I am."

"A king…" he grabbed her shirt and pulled it up so she was almost lifted off the floor, inches away from his face.

"And a king…" He waited for her to answer. She could hear that familiar snarl well up in his chest. She could barely breathe she was afraid, but she managed to speak the words that he wanted to hear.

"…gets whatever he wants…" His snarl diminished, but not before forcing his lips upon hers, before he forced it apart and half threw her back on the ground.

"Be ready when I return. I have to get something out of my system since I know you can't handle it." His tone was blatantly mocking her, but she just kept down on the floor and waited him to leave.

She winced as the door slammed. She knew she had to make the necessary preparations so that he would be satisfied. She immediately wrote a couple of sympathetic notes to the surrounding neighbors and slipped them in their mailboxes. As well as putting anything breakable away, she made sure there was enough padding under the legs of the bed that it would make the least amount of noise. She especially put a few extra pillows between the bed and the wall, knowing that was going to be an issue. She knew this all too well. She knew what was going to happen, and she knew it was going to happen whether she wanted it or not.

Everything was ready when he arrived. He put on his best charm. And she received it the best she could. The night was as usual; lustful, pleasurable, painful, and lasted longer than she expected. She could see the early morning sun poking through the blinds when it was over. She read the clock and saw she had to be waking up in half an hour. She at least survived, and this time without too much damaged, at least, nothing that wouldn't heal within the next few days.

She heard that familiar rumble in his chest when he was thoroughly satisfied. She winced at the pain but smiled at his sleeping form. She rubbed his chest and kissed his shoulder. He took a deep breath and settled back into sleep. Her movements getting out of bed were timed with his breaths to minimize the chance of his waking up. Coffee was put on and toast was made.

She leaned against the counter when she noticed another presence in the room. She quickly let her hair down so her face was covered.

"Good morning, sweetie." Rich came in with a smile in his voice.

"…'morning." She said with as much life as she could muster.

"Did you sleep well?" He came up behind her and kissed her shoulder. He felt her jump at his touch.

"I couldn't really sleep." She held something away from his view. He leaned forward to see what it was, but she again hid it from his view.

"What is that?"

"Trash, just trash. You were kinda sloppy when you ate last night". He pulled back her hair and saw the large bruise on her face.

"Oh no…" she closed her eyes and kept from shedding a tear. He turned her around to get a better look. The beer can fell out of her hands and onto the floor. Concern flooded his face in an instant as he laid eyes on the can. "Sarah… did I…"

"It's my fault… I didn't get up fast enough. If I did, none of this would have happened."

"Sarah, I am so sorry. Please… please… please forgive me!" He pleaded as he slumped down to the floor. He wasn't crying, he was bawling. The massive man wrapped his arms around her, holding on to her for dear life. The front of her shirt was becoming saturated with tears.

"I forgive you." She stroked his hair as he wept into her stomach. She was going to be late to work, but she knew she needed to resolve this. She saw her lover, her "king", begging for her forgiveness. She felt it was ironic, since there was truth in the term. She just wished she was the only queen. She looked down at the beer can. It had exploded when he tried to open it. He must have tasted it then, and the effects kicked in before she could get him comfortable. She sighed and kept stroking his head.

She knew his "wife" never received this treatment. The true "queen". Sarah was just the other woman. But in a way she was also "queen" and in a weird twisted way, Rich was really a king. She looked at the beer can again. She shuttered as she saw the two deep puncture holes, knowing that the same two fangs that bit into the can had also bitten into her flesh, not but a few hours ago.

Hey there. This is going to be a short story I think… Not sure. But it's one that has been in my mind and I wanted to get on the site. You probably know what's going on, but if you don't you will find out soon. Let me know what you think of the pilot.

mcc1089