OOC:I figure we can close this soon. My next post will be him leaving more than likely.
If Hurricane didn't like warm bodies to fuck, then he probably would have just killed Amy the second time the bitch spit in his face. He had more of a brain than that though. He knew that there was no fun in fucking a dead body. There was no fear in the eyes of a dead woman, only that stale, cloudy look of death. He wanted the emotion, the fight of it all. This was why he kept her alive. His intentions were not at all clear this time around though, for he actually was doing this for a reason. Reason?! Hurricane? Reason? This is a huge developement, children. Yes, Hurricane had a reason behind what he was doing now, and it was all because of Mars' actions, and Mars' life. Now that Mars was becoming happy, Hurricane was starting to do things to purposely have Mars' family, and his happiness fall apart. Hurricane didn't realize that there would be a downside to his manipulation of the body, that affected Hurricane himself, but come on guys, Hurricane couldn't possibly come up with a genius plan. He wasn't a thinking type. He was a brute type that could think in pieces. In spurs, in complete instinctual reasoning. Amy was right in a sense that she thought that he did not want to kill her. He would not kill her, since last time it didn't quite work. This time would be different. He was going to be expecting to see her around a few months from now.
He continued his duty of thrusting into her with his dick, working to the point of no return from his perverted act. He cared not, for he performed this act several different times, in where the woman was not so lucky to live through it. She was making it hard for him though, the way she didn't scream, and she bit her lips to keep from moaning, or whining or making any sound really. He roughly pushed into her though, with no hesitation to push into her sharply, and even off rhythm a few times to make it as painful as possible. He wanted a scream, a howl, something for him to know that he was doing a good job at hurting her. The cold bitch didn't deserve to be happy under him. No one did. She wasn't happy wither because she spit in his face once more, and in return he gave her a pressure on her throat with the knife. It was enough pressure for him to feel any growl or gulp she made. What did I say about the fucking spitting?! snarled the man as he gave her a deep and rough thrust and he kept the pressure on her throat with the knife.
His strange gaze was down on the woman as she stared back up at him with hatred in her eyes. He loved the look, honestly, because that was the only thing that she was giving him. She didn't know it yet, but he was going to be giving her a gift. A gift that would literally suck the life out of her if she let it. He chuckled as he thrusted in her roughly, with each thrust he was getting closer and closer to busting, and once he was done, he was gonna get the fuck out of here. He had other things to do, which included beating someone over the head with his nailed bat. A few times his chuckling was interupted by grunts of pleasure that waved through him.
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