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intheheartTitle: Playdate
Rating: R
Summary: Sociopaths at play.
Warnings: Oh so many. Murder, torture, specifically torture with acid and knives, as well as force-feeding and genital torture, plus mentions of being buried alive and sexual assault. It's that kind of story, guys. Please read with care and stay safe.
Notes: Maria is used with Sara's kind permission and mad beta skillz. Does this count as a conflict-based AU? I mean, they are serial killers...
1. Pallor mortis
"That one," Aaron said, nodding to a tall, thin man pale enough to be dead already, shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets, shifting his gaze over the popped collar as he strode down the main jogging path. "He's afraid, he's running from something. I bet you couldn't get him to go with you."
Maria twisted on the park bench to face him, and watched the man from under her eyelashes as he walked past them. "And you think you could?"
He shrugged. "I doubt it. I wouldn't risk it, anyway. I might have to subdue him, and that sounds like work."
They both knew was that subduing someone attracted attention that neither of them could afford—at least not while practicing their particular hobby. But there was no point in saying something they both knew, so he wouldn't bother.
"Hmm," Maria said, and turned back forward. They looked, Aaron thought, like your average couple in Central Park in fall, sitting on a bench with coffee and stylish scarves, watching the leaves turn. If Maria hadn't been dressed so well someone probably would have called them hipsters.
Aaron would have been required to kill them for that, of course, so perhaps it was just as well.
"It's too risky now," Maria was saying, with some regret, "but I could get him to come with me. Men are always susceptible to a pretty woman."
"And no one would miss him for a while," he agreed. "At least not from here. Well, next time."
She hummed again, already looking down the path. "What about that one, with the camera? He's using it to spy on women. He could be fun."
He followed her gaze, and smiled.
That could be fun.
2. Algor mortis
The camera was actually a really good one, Aaron thought, turning it over and over in his hands to examine the features. Shame they'd have to break it.
"Is he going to wake up any time soon?" If Maria was anyone else that would have sounded irritated—from her it sounded merely interested, and perhaps a little judgmental.
She thought his use of chemical compounds was cheating. Aaron found her reliance on knives limited. Friends had these little disagreements occasionally.
"Soon," he said, absently. "Ten to twenty minutes if it works as advertised."
She got up, laid a hand on the forehead of the man they currently had strapped to a lab table in the middle of a soundproofed trailer room. "He's cold," she remarked. "If he's dead I will be very annoyed with you."
"He's not dead." Aaron set the camera aside and stood up, put his hands into his jean pockets and wandered over to stand by her. "It's good to see this compound accurately mimics a coma, though. Maybe someday I'll give it to someone and then bury them alive."
Maria made a little face of distaste. "But that's so boring. You wouldn't even get to see their faces when they woke up."
He shrugged. "Leave their cell phone open in the coffin, listen as long as I like. Or until their minutes run out. I'd better pick someone with a good plan."
That got a tiny smile from her. "Maybe, then. That does sound entertaining."
"Especially," he added, "if I talk to them a little. Nothing too complicated, just..." He smiled. "Just a few well-chosen phrases."
Maria shivered, and smiled back. "Do you know, I think I will take a turn with this one," she said.
Aaron wrinkled his nose. Personally he found that idea disgusting, but who was he to—now what had Ivy called it recently? Ah, yes—harsh Maria's squee? "Have fun," he said, instead. "I'll be outside."
She gave him a little wave, and bent over their victim as he left the room.
3. Rigor Mortis
Some time later—perhaps an hour, he wasn't certain—Maria texted him and he went back in.
The guy on the table, naked now, looked happy and dazed; both of which expressions he lost as soon as he saw Aaron. "Wait," he said. "Wait. Who the hell is he?"
Aaron ignored him. "Have you had your fun?" he asked Maria, who, also naked, sat on the edge of the table swinging her legs.
She gave him a smug cat smile, and hopped down. "Yes," she said. "It was very satisfying."
"I didn't ask," he said, and looked at the man.
"Mimi," the man said, urgently. "Mimi, who the hell is he?"
Aaron blinked. "Mimi?"
Maria waved a lazy hand. "We saw La Boheme at the Met recently. It seemed apropos."
Not that Aaron had any idea what La Boheme was or what it was about, but he didn't care, and anyway if he ever did begin to care Summer had gone through an opera phase not long ago; he could ask her. "If you say so," he said, instead. "Well. Shall we?"
"Mimi," the guy said.
Maria smiled that catlike smile again. "Let's."
4. Livor mortis
The man had screamed himself hoarse long before Maria finished slicing her signature into his chest.
"What a baby," Aaron said, from his seat next to the table. "Is it my turn yet?"
"Almost finished," she said, and made a careful cut, parting the skin like silk to reveal corded muscle beneath. Blood slicked the knife's blade and dripped on the table. One of these days Aaron would have to try and replicate the effect in paint—it was quite artistic. "I have a very long name, you know."
"Oh, yes." He took another piece off the camera, looked at it, then set it on the table beside him. He had plans for these camera parts—that was, if it was ever his turn. "I'll obliterate it, I promise. I brought some acid."
She sat up a bit and gave him a smile. "I appreciate that. It isn't often I get to indulge myself this way."
Behind her, the man whimpered.
"Consider it a present," Aaron said. "For your birthday, maybe." He got her cover presents, of course, books and theater tickets and other things she enjoyed—the real presents tended to be illegal, and it would look odd if they weren't seen to exchange presents on appropriate occasions.
"You're so kind to me." Maria swung her leg over their victim and straddled his pelvis, then bent down and kissed him lightly. "Not so eager now, are you?"
Aaron rolled his eyes, carefully behind her back, and began to remove the film assembly.
5. Autolysis
"All right," Maria said, after far too long, "I'm finished," and she got down off the table and walked towards Aaron, hips swinging. Behind her, the man sobbed quietly, tears mixing with blood to streak down his face.
"About time," Aaron said. He'd fully disassembled the camera half an hour ago and had more or less been watching, straddling the chair with his chin set morosely on the back. Maria had been having fun, and there was always an element of pleasure to watching an expert work, but he'd been promised his own fun.
She tsked lightly at him, and patted his head. "Patience is a virtue."
He shot her an evil look and opened up his kit. "I was starting to think that you were planning to kill him and get another one for me."
"Don't be silly," Maria said, and went to the jugs of water sitting in the corner.
It was rather silly. Maria had a very highly developed sense of fairness. As did he, really.
The man on the table coughed, and immediately turned his head away. Trying to hide, Aaron surmised, and grinned. It wouldn't help.
"Well," he said, and looked over the vials in his soft-sided kit, green and red and pink-capped, different concoctions and possibilities. "What shall I begin with today?"
Maria smiled. The man whimpered.
6. Putrefaction
Maria had left the groinal area for him, which was really very kind of her. Even more, the man had found some screams left in the depths of his lungs. Aaron let another drop of acid fall and watched with interest as the skin... melted, was the only word for it. There were even a few bubbles! Fascinating.
"All right," Maria said. "I admit it, that's a unique effect."
"I almost want to put some on his vocal chords," Aaron said, and grinned when the man tried to beg through a raw throat and makeshift gag. "But that might kill him, and I don't believe we're ready for that yet."
"No." Maria set her chin on his shoulder and watched as he spattered acid over the man's hip. It looked almost like a constellation. "No, I think we can get a few hours out of him yet."
Aaron lifted the man's penis with his tongs, lined up the dropper carefully. "This, on the other hand," he said.
The man's begging cut off in a sobbing scream.
He smiled again.
7. Bloat
Maria held the man's head still while he pulled over the table full of camera parts.
"Not much longer now," she was saying, her voice warm and reassuring. It was really quite astonishing, the way she could turn almost motherly. Aaron admired that about her—observation suggested that it made her much more terrifying. "Don't worry. We'll kill you soon enough."
Aaron set the table by the man's head, and picked up the tongs again. "Not quite yet though," he assured the man. "I still have things to do."
The other whimpered. Aaron pulled the gag out of his mouth, and put the tongs in.
Whoops. Judging from that scream he must have left a drop or two of acid on them. Ah well, it wouldn't kill the man-- he had something else in mind for that. He pried the man's jaws open with one hand, and picked up a piece of camera with the other.
"Now," he said, calmly. "It's very rude to take pictures of women without their knowledge."
"It's even ruder," Maria added, "to take pictures up their skirts." Aaron glanced at her, and she smiled seraphically. "I gave him the opportunity, just to see. He took it."
"Naturally," Aaron said, and looked back down at the man. "You shouldn't have done that. It was impolite."
Maria nodded, seriously. "You see," she said, "if you hadn't been rude, we would have left you alone." Aaron looked at her again. "Oh, all right, we might have left you alone. It still would have been better to behave."
"Undoubtedly," Aaron said, and patted the man's cheek.
"Think about it," she instructed him, firmly. "Aaron?"
He put the first camera piece into the man's open mouth, and pushed. The resulting wail cut off on a funny crunching noise.
Aaron picked up the next piece. He'd better hurry—the man was already starting to wheeze.
8. Active Decay
His shirt was bloodstained. Aaron looked at the plaid with faint disgust, and then dropped it over the corpse.
"If you'd only work naked," Maria said, pouring lighter fluid in the corners of the room, "you wouldn't have this problem."
"It doesn't seem wise," he said, and pulled on the spare shirt he always brought for outings like this. "Better to have some sort of protection, given the chemicals I work with."
She rolled her eyes. "I still think you should try something a little more hands-on. Chemicals are so... impersonal."
He shrugged, buttoning the shirt up the front. "I enjoy experimentation."
They'd had this discussion before, with no real resolution. Maria gave a shrug of her own, and said, "To each their own. Are you ready to go?"
Aaron peeled off his gloves—the plain cotton kind you could get at any drugstore, thin enough for him to work through and cheap enough to use on this—and tossed them on the corpse as well. "I am now. Would you like to do the honors?"
Maria lifted a lighter. "I thought you'd never ask."
9. Advanced Decay
They looked like the hipster couple again on the walk home, strolling arm in arm. Maria wore the small smile of a self-satisfied cat. Aaron didn't know what his expression looked like, but it probably matched.
"We really should have these outings more often," she said, patting his arm. "I do enjoy them."
"Oh, yes." The lights flickered on above them, Central Park floating into dusk. Aaron would be worried, as the park wasn't the safest place after dark, but he rested easy in the knowledge that there was nothing out there scarier than them. "Pity it has to end."
"Mm." A jogger coming up the path smiled at them, sharp—Maria smiled back, toothy and violent, and the jogger veered abruptly onto a path away from them. "All good things must come to an end, I suppose. Dinner?"
"Sounds great," he said.
10. Dry/Remains
Aaron called home that night, to wish his stepmother a happy birthday like any good stepson would. She wasn't home, it seemed, but his father was, and they had a little conversation, warm and friendly. Aaron liked his father very much, probably as much as he liked anyone not Maria. It was nice to lie on his couch, heavy and sated, and talk to his father; it felt rather warm.
"Oh," his father said, near the end of their call. "I forgot to ask; how was your outing with Maria today?"
Aaron smiled at the ceiling—the things his father didn't know. "It was wonderful, thank you," he said, and changed the subject.
Rating: R
Summary: Sociopaths at play.
Warnings: Oh so many. Murder, torture, specifically torture with acid and knives, as well as force-feeding and genital torture, plus mentions of being buried alive and sexual assault. It's that kind of story, guys. Please read with care and stay safe.
Notes: Maria is used with Sara's kind permission and mad beta skillz. Does this count as a conflict-based AU? I mean, they are serial killers...
1. Pallor mortis
"That one," Aaron said, nodding to a tall, thin man pale enough to be dead already, shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets, shifting his gaze over the popped collar as he strode down the main jogging path. "He's afraid, he's running from something. I bet you couldn't get him to go with you."
Maria twisted on the park bench to face him, and watched the man from under her eyelashes as he walked past them. "And you think you could?"
He shrugged. "I doubt it. I wouldn't risk it, anyway. I might have to subdue him, and that sounds like work."
They both knew was that subduing someone attracted attention that neither of them could afford—at least not while practicing their particular hobby. But there was no point in saying something they both knew, so he wouldn't bother.
"Hmm," Maria said, and turned back forward. They looked, Aaron thought, like your average couple in Central Park in fall, sitting on a bench with coffee and stylish scarves, watching the leaves turn. If Maria hadn't been dressed so well someone probably would have called them hipsters.
Aaron would have been required to kill them for that, of course, so perhaps it was just as well.
"It's too risky now," Maria was saying, with some regret, "but I could get him to come with me. Men are always susceptible to a pretty woman."
"And no one would miss him for a while," he agreed. "At least not from here. Well, next time."
She hummed again, already looking down the path. "What about that one, with the camera? He's using it to spy on women. He could be fun."
He followed her gaze, and smiled.
That could be fun.
2. Algor mortis
The camera was actually a really good one, Aaron thought, turning it over and over in his hands to examine the features. Shame they'd have to break it.
"Is he going to wake up any time soon?" If Maria was anyone else that would have sounded irritated—from her it sounded merely interested, and perhaps a little judgmental.
She thought his use of chemical compounds was cheating. Aaron found her reliance on knives limited. Friends had these little disagreements occasionally.
"Soon," he said, absently. "Ten to twenty minutes if it works as advertised."
She got up, laid a hand on the forehead of the man they currently had strapped to a lab table in the middle of a soundproofed trailer room. "He's cold," she remarked. "If he's dead I will be very annoyed with you."
"He's not dead." Aaron set the camera aside and stood up, put his hands into his jean pockets and wandered over to stand by her. "It's good to see this compound accurately mimics a coma, though. Maybe someday I'll give it to someone and then bury them alive."
Maria made a little face of distaste. "But that's so boring. You wouldn't even get to see their faces when they woke up."
He shrugged. "Leave their cell phone open in the coffin, listen as long as I like. Or until their minutes run out. I'd better pick someone with a good plan."
That got a tiny smile from her. "Maybe, then. That does sound entertaining."
"Especially," he added, "if I talk to them a little. Nothing too complicated, just..." He smiled. "Just a few well-chosen phrases."
Maria shivered, and smiled back. "Do you know, I think I will take a turn with this one," she said.
Aaron wrinkled his nose. Personally he found that idea disgusting, but who was he to—now what had Ivy called it recently? Ah, yes—harsh Maria's squee? "Have fun," he said, instead. "I'll be outside."
She gave him a little wave, and bent over their victim as he left the room.
3. Rigor Mortis
Some time later—perhaps an hour, he wasn't certain—Maria texted him and he went back in.
The guy on the table, naked now, looked happy and dazed; both of which expressions he lost as soon as he saw Aaron. "Wait," he said. "Wait. Who the hell is he?"
Aaron ignored him. "Have you had your fun?" he asked Maria, who, also naked, sat on the edge of the table swinging her legs.
She gave him a smug cat smile, and hopped down. "Yes," she said. "It was very satisfying."
"I didn't ask," he said, and looked at the man.
"Mimi," the man said, urgently. "Mimi, who the hell is he?"
Aaron blinked. "Mimi?"
Maria waved a lazy hand. "We saw La Boheme at the Met recently. It seemed apropos."
Not that Aaron had any idea what La Boheme was or what it was about, but he didn't care, and anyway if he ever did begin to care Summer had gone through an opera phase not long ago; he could ask her. "If you say so," he said, instead. "Well. Shall we?"
"Mimi," the guy said.
Maria smiled that catlike smile again. "Let's."
4. Livor mortis
The man had screamed himself hoarse long before Maria finished slicing her signature into his chest.
"What a baby," Aaron said, from his seat next to the table. "Is it my turn yet?"
"Almost finished," she said, and made a careful cut, parting the skin like silk to reveal corded muscle beneath. Blood slicked the knife's blade and dripped on the table. One of these days Aaron would have to try and replicate the effect in paint—it was quite artistic. "I have a very long name, you know."
"Oh, yes." He took another piece off the camera, looked at it, then set it on the table beside him. He had plans for these camera parts—that was, if it was ever his turn. "I'll obliterate it, I promise. I brought some acid."
She sat up a bit and gave him a smile. "I appreciate that. It isn't often I get to indulge myself this way."
Behind her, the man whimpered.
"Consider it a present," Aaron said. "For your birthday, maybe." He got her cover presents, of course, books and theater tickets and other things she enjoyed—the real presents tended to be illegal, and it would look odd if they weren't seen to exchange presents on appropriate occasions.
"You're so kind to me." Maria swung her leg over their victim and straddled his pelvis, then bent down and kissed him lightly. "Not so eager now, are you?"
Aaron rolled his eyes, carefully behind her back, and began to remove the film assembly.
5. Autolysis
"All right," Maria said, after far too long, "I'm finished," and she got down off the table and walked towards Aaron, hips swinging. Behind her, the man sobbed quietly, tears mixing with blood to streak down his face.
"About time," Aaron said. He'd fully disassembled the camera half an hour ago and had more or less been watching, straddling the chair with his chin set morosely on the back. Maria had been having fun, and there was always an element of pleasure to watching an expert work, but he'd been promised his own fun.
She tsked lightly at him, and patted his head. "Patience is a virtue."
He shot her an evil look and opened up his kit. "I was starting to think that you were planning to kill him and get another one for me."
"Don't be silly," Maria said, and went to the jugs of water sitting in the corner.
It was rather silly. Maria had a very highly developed sense of fairness. As did he, really.
The man on the table coughed, and immediately turned his head away. Trying to hide, Aaron surmised, and grinned. It wouldn't help.
"Well," he said, and looked over the vials in his soft-sided kit, green and red and pink-capped, different concoctions and possibilities. "What shall I begin with today?"
Maria smiled. The man whimpered.
6. Putrefaction
Maria had left the groinal area for him, which was really very kind of her. Even more, the man had found some screams left in the depths of his lungs. Aaron let another drop of acid fall and watched with interest as the skin... melted, was the only word for it. There were even a few bubbles! Fascinating.
"All right," Maria said. "I admit it, that's a unique effect."
"I almost want to put some on his vocal chords," Aaron said, and grinned when the man tried to beg through a raw throat and makeshift gag. "But that might kill him, and I don't believe we're ready for that yet."
"No." Maria set her chin on his shoulder and watched as he spattered acid over the man's hip. It looked almost like a constellation. "No, I think we can get a few hours out of him yet."
Aaron lifted the man's penis with his tongs, lined up the dropper carefully. "This, on the other hand," he said.
The man's begging cut off in a sobbing scream.
He smiled again.
7. Bloat
Maria held the man's head still while he pulled over the table full of camera parts.
"Not much longer now," she was saying, her voice warm and reassuring. It was really quite astonishing, the way she could turn almost motherly. Aaron admired that about her—observation suggested that it made her much more terrifying. "Don't worry. We'll kill you soon enough."
Aaron set the table by the man's head, and picked up the tongs again. "Not quite yet though," he assured the man. "I still have things to do."
The other whimpered. Aaron pulled the gag out of his mouth, and put the tongs in.
Whoops. Judging from that scream he must have left a drop or two of acid on them. Ah well, it wouldn't kill the man-- he had something else in mind for that. He pried the man's jaws open with one hand, and picked up a piece of camera with the other.
"Now," he said, calmly. "It's very rude to take pictures of women without their knowledge."
"It's even ruder," Maria added, "to take pictures up their skirts." Aaron glanced at her, and she smiled seraphically. "I gave him the opportunity, just to see. He took it."
"Naturally," Aaron said, and looked back down at the man. "You shouldn't have done that. It was impolite."
Maria nodded, seriously. "You see," she said, "if you hadn't been rude, we would have left you alone." Aaron looked at her again. "Oh, all right, we might have left you alone. It still would have been better to behave."
"Undoubtedly," Aaron said, and patted the man's cheek.
"Think about it," she instructed him, firmly. "Aaron?"
He put the first camera piece into the man's open mouth, and pushed. The resulting wail cut off on a funny crunching noise.
Aaron picked up the next piece. He'd better hurry—the man was already starting to wheeze.
8. Active Decay
His shirt was bloodstained. Aaron looked at the plaid with faint disgust, and then dropped it over the corpse.
"If you'd only work naked," Maria said, pouring lighter fluid in the corners of the room, "you wouldn't have this problem."
"It doesn't seem wise," he said, and pulled on the spare shirt he always brought for outings like this. "Better to have some sort of protection, given the chemicals I work with."
She rolled her eyes. "I still think you should try something a little more hands-on. Chemicals are so... impersonal."
He shrugged, buttoning the shirt up the front. "I enjoy experimentation."
They'd had this discussion before, with no real resolution. Maria gave a shrug of her own, and said, "To each their own. Are you ready to go?"
Aaron peeled off his gloves—the plain cotton kind you could get at any drugstore, thin enough for him to work through and cheap enough to use on this—and tossed them on the corpse as well. "I am now. Would you like to do the honors?"
Maria lifted a lighter. "I thought you'd never ask."
9. Advanced Decay
They looked like the hipster couple again on the walk home, strolling arm in arm. Maria wore the small smile of a self-satisfied cat. Aaron didn't know what his expression looked like, but it probably matched.
"We really should have these outings more often," she said, patting his arm. "I do enjoy them."
"Oh, yes." The lights flickered on above them, Central Park floating into dusk. Aaron would be worried, as the park wasn't the safest place after dark, but he rested easy in the knowledge that there was nothing out there scarier than them. "Pity it has to end."
"Mm." A jogger coming up the path smiled at them, sharp—Maria smiled back, toothy and violent, and the jogger veered abruptly onto a path away from them. "All good things must come to an end, I suppose. Dinner?"
"Sounds great," he said.
10. Dry/Remains
Aaron called home that night, to wish his stepmother a happy birthday like any good stepson would. She wasn't home, it seemed, but his father was, and they had a little conversation, warm and friendly. Aaron liked his father very much, probably as much as he liked anyone not Maria. It was nice to lie on his couch, heavy and sated, and talk to his father; it felt rather warm.
"Oh," his father said, near the end of their call. "I forgot to ask; how was your outing with Maria today?"
Aaron smiled at the ceiling—the things his father didn't know. "It was wonderful, thank you," he said, and changed the subject.
