Pink lemonade

Cheers for the reviews. =). Mirandaaaa...

Elliot felt catatonic for a while. The straps had returned, and he could feel thick tension in the room as Razzle felt control slipping from his fingers. Boris was curled up on his chest, unphased, even purring. Elliot turned his head to the side just in time to catch the sight of a fat blue bottle fly crawling across Miranda's cheek and into the hollow and soundless shriek her round mouth was forming. Razzle was gulping down a glass of pink lemonade. Elliot realised the buzzing was flies, somehow working their way into the room despite it being a fortress, and beginning their buffet named Miranda. The love and light of his life, sprawled dead in the bedroom. Elliot felt as if he were slowly snapping, going insane, his eyes were sore and swollen from all the crying, crusted over with salt build up thick and yellow, his eyelashes seemed glued together. Any hope was ebbing away. He would rot here, he would spend however long being fucked by Razzle whenever Razzle saw fit with the skeleton of Miranda, and eventually die from some awful disease or Razzle growing bored of him. Razzle was thankfully leaving him alone. He paced, stared at the corpse nervously, wrung his hands. Razzle came close to pick up Boris and Elliot turned his head away, terrified that Boris would be next. When no pained squealing or blood splatter ensued he nervously turned his head to find Razzle seated and fervantly petting Boris. Boris purred even louder. Elliot felt as though Boris was a traitor.
'I'm scared.' Elliot's eyes shut tight. More burning hot tears leaked out, he had hoped he had cried himself dry. Razzle continued to speak. 'I never wanted to do anything bad I just missed Ellie, is that so wrong?' Elliot realised Razzle was addressing his words to Boris.
'Razzle...' Elliot's voice was choked, hoarse and dry, it didn't even sound like his own. 'Please untie me,' Elliot begged. Razzle shook his head.
'No I can't do that you might try to escape. And if you escape you'll tell on me. Then I'll be in trouble,' so he understood what he was doing was wrong, and that if anybody found out, he would be in trouble.
'People only get in trouble when they're being bad, Razzle, what you've done is bad.' Razzle shook his head. He dropped Boris to the floor. Boris padded away casually. Razzle strode across the room to clmb into bed with Elliot, who quickly turned his head away, he couldn't stand stolen kisses or looking into Razzle's dead eyes that reminded him of a great white shark. Long, slender arms curled around his form, wriggling beneath his back, Razzle's crotch pressed up against Elliot's leg. It was hard. Elliot's stomach turned.
'I want to play, Ellie,' Razzle whispered in his ear. His breath was hot, fluttering over the skin, it still felt good. Soft lips and tongue worked at the lobe and Elliot tried to twist away, but was as far away as possible already. He was interrupted by a lound knocking on the door. He went rigid, his face went white, he stayed still for a moment, then he turned to business mode. His eyes regained that vicious threat he had begun this whole affair with. He scrabbled around for the gag and stuffed it back in Elliot's mouth. 'You fucking make a peep, you'll be sorry,' Elliot wondered how the fuck he could make a peep with a gag in his mouth. Perhaps by wiggling around and making the bed shift or bang against the wall? He gave a nod. Agreement that he would not make a peep. Razzle dashed from the room, the tap was running, Elliot realising he was soaking his hair.
'Hi there, sorry, I was just taking a quick shower. Rent? Yeah sure, sorry,' rustling as Razzle paid up. Elliot strained his ears. This was his chance, Furiously, he bucked and writhed, delighted when the bed legs banged on the floor. The headboard slammed noisily into the wall. But he heard no "What was that?" or anything, just pleasant goodbies exchanges and the front door slamming.
The bedroom door swung open, Razzle had a fire in his eyes, he grabbed Miranda by her dead throat, she was stiff now, he dragged her over to the bedside and waved her in his face.
'You ungrateful piece of shit, I bring you your whore, your dumb beast, I feed you, I keep a roof over your head, I was even going to buy you new clothes today. But not now.' Elliot screamed as Miranda's face loomed closer to his. 'Aren't you going to give her a kiss? You liked it enough before! Come on Elliot! Kiss her!' Elliot was growing sick of sobbing. He felt the tip of that blade at his temple again, for a while he'd hoped it was gone. 'Stick your tongue right in her fucking filthy mouth...' he whispered, his breath was harsh and fast, this control, this cruelty, the raw emotion Elliot was all intoxicating. Elliot's eyes were shut tight, the knife was digging in deeper, breaking the skin now a dribble of hot red liquid running a trail thick and fast down his cheek. He slammed his lips to Miranda's cold, rigid ones, his tongue touched hers and he ripped himself away. Bile rose in his throat and he spat it out on his own chest, it was bitter and vile, Razzle was cackling cruelly. He tossed Miranda across the room casually. She collided with the wall loudly and a distinct crack sounded in the air. The restraints were ripped away from Elliot's legs, his jeans dragged down so his flacid length was exposed. Miranda's taste, the subtle scent of rotting flesh that would grow more and more putrid as she decayed, none of it would go away. No matter how much Elliot spat. Razzle stroked his hips and cooed sweet nothings, attempted to placate him. Razzle did not bother to explain or defend his actions as he did usually, however, there was nothing to defend about forcing somebody to stuff their tongue into the mouth of a dead person.
Wet hotness enveloped his cock and Elliot looked down quickly, strange images of the dead Miranda latched onto his hips reared in his head, but no it was Razzle, suckling at him, raking nails over his hips. Razzle could deepthroat and Elliot felt himself growing hard.
'What kind of fucking sick kicks do you get from this?' Elliot snapped, kicking his legs viciously, his foot connected with Razzle's gut and he rolled off the bed with an oofing sound. Elliot struggled madly, squirming this way and that, he had some leverage now, but all he seemed to succeed in doing was cutting up his arms. Razzle stood up.
'I'm going out. Maybe I'll come back. Or maybe I'll leave you here to die alone with your stinking bitch. Who knows?' Razzle smiled. And he was gone. Now was the time to escape, somehow. Elliot manage to wriggle his fingers around one of the leather straps and began to squirm his way out. After half an hour he managed to unbuckle the one strap he needed to. His breath was coming in short, fast pants of excitement as he tugged the restraints off. He knew Razzle would not be gone for long, he wouldn't leave, he was far too deep in his strange fantasy to be able to leave it behind. Elliot crawled across the floor with his jeans round his ankles and gently clutched Miranda's cold hand. More tears came.
'I am so... So fucking sorry,' useless now. She's dead. She can't hear. But the apology was enough for him to drag himself away from her and dress. The door were still locked, but he knew what to do, how to win. It would just take will power. He ate quickly, the food was going off as Razzle had left it on the kitchen side, but he stuffed it down his throat ravenously.

Razzle wasn't sure where he was going. He was walking, looking around, ignoring the ugliness of the apartment. It wasn't nice anymore. It was a bad place with bad vibrations. It was that girl's fault. He sat on a swing and imagined Elliot next to him. Smiling and laughing the way he used to. Razzle had watched something slowly drain away from Elliot as he grew up, from inside him, Razzle didn't know what it was but it made him miserable. Razzle knew what he had to do. He had to go back to the room and get rid of Miranda. If Miranda was gone, he could take her place, and make Elliot all better again. This was the best idea.

Razzle came back and felt suspicious. Something was wrong, he knew it. He crept across the floorboards but they creaked like traitors. When he came to the room, Elliot was gone. He ran to the bed, panick swelling in his chest. Something grabbed his ankles and pulled, pulled so he fell and his head cracked on the floorboards. He felt someone scrabbling over his form, climbing up and sitting on his waist. It was Elliot, he held a table leg this time, thick like a club, he bought it down hard and Razzle only knew black.
'Shit...' Elliot leapt up and ran, ran to the door and realised it was locked. Of course. He ran back and fumbled around Razzle's clothes til he found the key. Flinging the door open, he collapsed onto the carpet in the hallway, for a few brief moments he simply cried. Exhaustion and relief overtaking him before he scrambled up and began to thump on the door of the apartment next door. An elderly woman answered, she only peeked through at first, but when she saw his state she gasped and opened the door quickly and ushered him in.
'Hello... Um... The police... And um... An ambulance, I think, there's a body here... I was kidnapped. Yes. Um I don't know, this lady does,' the elderly woman accepted the phone to explain their whereabouts and Elliot collapsed onto her sofa. He worried it would become dirty, but was sure she would not mind. The police arrived promptly, and everything seemed a blur from them. Razzle was taken away kicking and screaming in a white straight jacket, Miranda was placed in a black body bag, and Elliot was wrapped in a blanket and coddled over. He wrote his statement in a dream, Elliot himself stated that Razzle was insane and needed help rather than punishment. No records of Razzle even existing were found. No medical records, no police records, he had never enrolled at any school or college, infact he didn't even posess a birth certificate. Nobody ever found his identity. It was as if he had just appeared from nowhere.