Freak Show
Title: Freak Show
Author: onthethruway01
Length: one shot, but long
Pairing: Yoochun and a surprise (no, it’s not me, believe it or not)!
Rating: NC-17
Genre: smut, het, angst, supernatural, horror, Steam punk
Summary: The local carnival has a dark secret
A/N: this was a dream I had; a very weird dream.
Warning: this is pretty dark and disturbing.
Some things are best kept secret; like the night of the accident; the night the boy was almost killed. If the locals had known, they would have stormed the carnival with pitchforks, like a scene out of Frankenstein. But the carneys swept the incident under the rug. As he was rushed away, his life bleeding out of him, another would also pay the price. A young girl watched as the head ring master put a bullet in her mothers head.
The boy’s life was saved, but he would never be the same. Deep, dark and dangerous methods were used to save his life. It was not magic, as some would claim, but science; a technology yet unknown to the outside world. He was an experiment; their guinea pig. He lived for now, but for how long? If he survived into adult hood, it would truly be a miracle; not a miracle of God, but the machinations of a mad scientist...
“Hurry, hurry, step right up. Step this way folks. Witness the bizarre and the wonderful. See the strongest man in the world. Watch in wonder as this young man bends bars of steel like they were brittle twigs. Come see the amazing feral girl as she transforms into a jungle cat before your eyes. Hurry, hurry, hurry.”
They came; year after year. Rumors of his prowess and strength brought them in like bees to honey. They seemed disappointed at first; this was no ordinary strong man.
“Look at that pretty face,” they would say.
“Is it a man or a girl?”
But the strongman did not disappoint. Despite his outward appearance, the slender and fragile male beauty shocked and amazed the crowd with his dexterity, flexibility and power. The women came to ogle him; batting their eyelashes; hoping to catch his attention. He ignored them, smiling politely, never speaking, only doing what he was told to do. He dressed in black from head to toe; his shirt always tied so that only his long, slender neck could be seen. The throng gathered at every opportunity to watch him perform amazing feats of strength; his quiet and shy demeanor endearing him to the crowd. As time went by he became known as The Gentle Strong Man. As the evening waned, and the crowds returned to their homes, The Gentle Strong Man sighed. This is what his life had become. He looked around at his fellow performers; acrobats, clowns, sword swallowers, and fortune tellers; outcasts from decent society. He had truly become one of them. He looked at his hands; all his power wasted on the carnival circuit. The young man touched himself; felt the scars beneath his clothing; felt his blood pumping through his heart; the heart that should be silent. He knew now what he should have known all along; he was a freak.
The Gentle Strong Man was not alone. Another shared his misery; another who had witnessed the tragedy all those years ago…
The old man had died; he who had cared for her all her life. He who had cried by her side the night they put her mother down. As the carneys took the old mans body away, she peeked through the bars of her cage. As if he knew she was watching, the Gentle Strong Man turned and looked at her. Green orbs, like glowing emeralds met his dark almond eyes. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Her gaze mesmerized him; made him swallow hard. She was frightening; frightening and beautiful; just like her mother; the animal that nearly mauled him to death when he was just a boy. A deep growl emanated from within her throat, sending a chill up his spine. He forced himself to look away from her; heart pounding fast and hard. He clutched at his chest as he felt a sharp pain.
“No,” he told himself, “my heart is strong.”
He looked back at the cage; green eyes melting into the darkness.
“My heart is strong.”
As he walked away, a voice spoke out to him in the darkness and called his name.
“Yoochun.”
He approached the cage, despite the danger, the green eyes once more peeking through the darkness. They were alone; all others had left to tend to the deceased. He knew what he was doing was crazy but he felt compelled. Grasping the bars of the cage, he responded.
“I’m here.”
The beautiful, young feral girl crawled on her hands and knees to the edge of her cage. She reached up, her hands touching his; making him flinch.
“Come closer,” she breathed; and as if he were caught in her spell, he willingly obeyed.
The feral girl could smell his fear, but she could also sense his excitement. They hadn’t been alone since they were young. She recalled that fateful day when he nearly died; holding his hand as he walked the fine line between life and death. It was a simple gesture; one the old man told her would endear her to him and the others; the others who feared she would inherit her mothers attributes; the ability to change at will from human to beast. It was her mother who lost control of her senses that fateful night and attacked the innocent boy for no reason. The daughter followed in her mothers footsteps; shape shifting at will to the amazement of the crowd. She was the special attraction; more popular than the Gentle Strong Man, himself. But the ring master worried. The old man was dead. Who would take care of the feral girl? What if she lost control and became a brutal beast, a savage animal that would have to be destroyed by a bullet? Yoochun worried about that too. As he stared into her eyes, her hot breath upon his face, he wondered.
“What will become of you?”
“Yoochun,” she whispered once more, leaning in so close that her mouth brushed against his.
Her lips parted, tongue intruding upon him; instinctively he opened up to her and received the kiss.
She growled, like the beast she was; forcing her tongue past his teeth, plunging deep into his mouth, making him moan in pleasure.
He responded in kind; his tongue entwining with hers; darting this way and that; their cries of pain and anguish muffled by each others lips. They kissed long and hard until their mouths were bruised and swollen. Breathless, they released each other from the kiss; Yoochun shaking; still holding on to the bars of the cage.
Her hands reached between the bars and touched his crotch. He looked down as slender fingers released his now swollen cock from the confines of his pants. He gulped hard as she began to stroke him. Resting his head against the bars he pushed his hips forward to give her better access. It was uncomfortable, and they were both frustrated. She needed to feel him; touch him; inhale his scent; mark him as her own. The feral girl was an animal after all. She wanted to mate with him, claim him above all others.
Yoochun wanted her too, despite all he told himself. She was dangerous, her mother’s daughter; a wild beast who could rip him to shreds at a moment notice. He didn’t care. He wanted to nuzzle her neck, hear her growl, bare her fangs to him; rake her claws down his back. He wanted to lick the sweat from her skin, make her mewl as he pounded her insides with his rigid length.
Her frustration made her cry out.
“Yoochun, I beg you.”
The Gentle Strong Man could take no more.
His hands gripped the bars and he pulled them apart with all his might; his slender body easily sliding between the opening She staggered backwards; back against the wall; he crushed his lips to hers, body pressed hard against her. He hoisted her up; her long legs wrapping around his waist. He entered her roughly, the pain of the intrusion ignored as the overwhelming desire to have him inside her took precedence. His hips thrust forward hard and fast as he struggled to hold her up. She tightened her grip around him and buried her head in his shoulder. He punished her insides, his wide girth stretching her, her muscles contracting around his width. Yoochun growled and thrust harder, her juices flowing freely and running down the length of him. She bit down hard upon his shoulder, drawing blood.
“Fuck you,” he screamed at her; the Gentle Strong Man was no more.
He looked at her; her head was back, eyes closed; her lips stained with his blood. In that moment he thought she was the most magnificent creature on earth.
His thoughts turned to that fateful night when he was a boy. His lust turned to anger and pain as he remembered his own anguish; the claws that ripped through him, the fangs that tore him open. He brutalized the beauty beneath him; punished her for her mother’s crimes against him. His swollen head scraped up high inside the recesses of her moist flesh; her body reacting once more to his onslaught; her muscles constricting around his thickness.
His violence brought forth her beastly nature. With fangs and claws extended, she forced him to the floor, ripping the shirt from his back, exposing the evidence of his tragic past. Deep and terrible scars marred his slender body; stitches up and down his arms revealed the reason for his great strength. Years of experiments of grafting various materials upon his growing muscles and bones proved successful, but the pain was so great that he was drugged for most of his growing years. But even more gruesome was the great scar that ran across his chest; the scar that hid an even deeper secret.
Their lovemaking, if one could call it that, temporarily came to a halt. His cock still twitched inside her, but neither dared to move. His chest heaved; pale skin glistening with sweat. She leaned forward and licked the great scar over his heart.
She pressed her ear to it and whispered.
“I can hear your life beating.”
Of course she could hear it; it thumped loud and clear; the sound reverberating against the wall of his chest. But there was something wrong; something not quite right. There was an echo; like something bouncing off of metal. There was something there; something deep within Yoochun’s chest that did not belong and she was determined to find out.
There had been rumors; rumors on that terrible night of the surgery that saved Yoochun’s life; of the experiment that was a success, but had remained a secret to all but a select few.
“Let me see it.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. There was only one way to see what lay beneath his scar, and that road was closed.
“No,” he told her. “I will not let you slice me open like your mother did. Let it be. Finish me off or let me go. I tire of your games.”
He sat up and pulled her close; rocking into her gently he spoke softly, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine.
“Let it go,” he told her. Let it go.”
He held her gently; ran his fingers through her dampened hair; suckled upon her breasts. Her body relaxed as his anger turned to softness; he moaned into her throat; whispered words of love; encouraged her affection.
“I’m so close,” he exclaimed, pre cum dripping from the tip of his arousal. “So very close.”
As he plunged into her one final time, she pressed her advantage. As he reached the end she dug her claws into him. He cried out as he came; spilling his seed deep within her as his blood spurted from his body. He gasped as he felt the razor sharp sting; flesh, muscle and bone ripped apart as she opened him up.
He slumped forward, his hands covered the wound; blood seeping through his fingers; running down his torso in deep rivulets.
“Damn you,” he cursed her through gritted teeth.
She pried his fingers from the wound and dared to look. What she saw shocked and amazed her.
Where broken ribs too damaged to be fixed once were, were now metal bars. They shielded his scarred lungs; lungs which had been punctured by her mother’s claws. But even more frightening was the realization that Yoochun’s heart had been replaced. Not by another human heart, but by a device; a mechanism like a clock; its wheels and gears operated a synthetic pump; a pump driven by a technology beyond her understanding. This was the great secret; that Yoochun’s heart was a machine driven by an unknown power. She stared at it; mesmerized by the synchronized ticking; like a metronome it kept the rhythm at a steady pace; but this time the beats were anything but steady.
The stench of blood and Yoochun’s moans awakened her from her trance. She took what was left of his torn shirt and wrapped it around the wound.
“You’ll be fine,” she told him as if it were just a scratch.
He would have laughed at such a foolish remark if it weren’t for the pain.
“What am I to do with you?” he said, his voice barely audible.
“Remember me always and know that I love you.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
The feral girl scrambled to her feet.
“I’m leaving now. I can’t stay here any more. Not after I’ve done this. But we’ll meet again soon.”
She slithered through the bars and smiled sweetly to him.
“Go get help. Don’t follow me. If they find me, they’ll put a bullet in my head just like my mother. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
Yoochun staggered to his feet, bracing himself against the wall of the cage. He shuffled to the opening in the bars. He slid through them, outstretching his arm he grabbed a hold of her begging her not to go.
“I love you. Don’t leave me.”
“I will always love you. I will always be with you. No matter where you go or what happens, I will always know and I will come and protect you. I am not my mother. You will see.”
She walked off into the night; he followed her despite her warning. As she got to the edge of the carnival grounds, she transformed into her animal form. Emerald eyes stared at him for what he thought was the last time. Unable to follow he fell to the ground, clutching his wound. He cried out in pain, the sound alerting the sleepy carneys’ that something was amiss. The animal ran off into the night, leaving a weeping Yoochun crying out her name.
“Come back, Cassiopeia, come back.”
His compatriots came rushing to his side.
What happened, Yoochun? What happened?”
“She’s gone. My love is gone.”
They examined his wound.
“He’ll be alright,” one of them said.
“His heart is strong.”
Yoochun shook his head.
“No, my heart is empty.”
.
Author: onthethruway01
Length: one shot, but long
Pairing: Yoochun and a surprise (no, it’s not me, believe it or not)!
Rating: NC-17
Genre: smut, het, angst, supernatural, horror, Steam punk
Summary: The local carnival has a dark secret
A/N: this was a dream I had; a very weird dream.
Warning: this is pretty dark and disturbing.
Some things are best kept secret; like the night of the accident; the night the boy was almost killed. If the locals had known, they would have stormed the carnival with pitchforks, like a scene out of Frankenstein. But the carneys swept the incident under the rug. As he was rushed away, his life bleeding out of him, another would also pay the price. A young girl watched as the head ring master put a bullet in her mothers head.
The boy’s life was saved, but he would never be the same. Deep, dark and dangerous methods were used to save his life. It was not magic, as some would claim, but science; a technology yet unknown to the outside world. He was an experiment; their guinea pig. He lived for now, but for how long? If he survived into adult hood, it would truly be a miracle; not a miracle of God, but the machinations of a mad scientist...
“Hurry, hurry, step right up. Step this way folks. Witness the bizarre and the wonderful. See the strongest man in the world. Watch in wonder as this young man bends bars of steel like they were brittle twigs. Come see the amazing feral girl as she transforms into a jungle cat before your eyes. Hurry, hurry, hurry.”
They came; year after year. Rumors of his prowess and strength brought them in like bees to honey. They seemed disappointed at first; this was no ordinary strong man.
“Look at that pretty face,” they would say.
“Is it a man or a girl?”
But the strongman did not disappoint. Despite his outward appearance, the slender and fragile male beauty shocked and amazed the crowd with his dexterity, flexibility and power. The women came to ogle him; batting their eyelashes; hoping to catch his attention. He ignored them, smiling politely, never speaking, only doing what he was told to do. He dressed in black from head to toe; his shirt always tied so that only his long, slender neck could be seen. The throng gathered at every opportunity to watch him perform amazing feats of strength; his quiet and shy demeanor endearing him to the crowd. As time went by he became known as The Gentle Strong Man. As the evening waned, and the crowds returned to their homes, The Gentle Strong Man sighed. This is what his life had become. He looked around at his fellow performers; acrobats, clowns, sword swallowers, and fortune tellers; outcasts from decent society. He had truly become one of them. He looked at his hands; all his power wasted on the carnival circuit. The young man touched himself; felt the scars beneath his clothing; felt his blood pumping through his heart; the heart that should be silent. He knew now what he should have known all along; he was a freak.
The Gentle Strong Man was not alone. Another shared his misery; another who had witnessed the tragedy all those years ago…
The old man had died; he who had cared for her all her life. He who had cried by her side the night they put her mother down. As the carneys took the old mans body away, she peeked through the bars of her cage. As if he knew she was watching, the Gentle Strong Man turned and looked at her. Green orbs, like glowing emeralds met his dark almond eyes. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Her gaze mesmerized him; made him swallow hard. She was frightening; frightening and beautiful; just like her mother; the animal that nearly mauled him to death when he was just a boy. A deep growl emanated from within her throat, sending a chill up his spine. He forced himself to look away from her; heart pounding fast and hard. He clutched at his chest as he felt a sharp pain.
“No,” he told himself, “my heart is strong.”
He looked back at the cage; green eyes melting into the darkness.
“My heart is strong.”
As he walked away, a voice spoke out to him in the darkness and called his name.
“Yoochun.”
He approached the cage, despite the danger, the green eyes once more peeking through the darkness. They were alone; all others had left to tend to the deceased. He knew what he was doing was crazy but he felt compelled. Grasping the bars of the cage, he responded.
“I’m here.”
The beautiful, young feral girl crawled on her hands and knees to the edge of her cage. She reached up, her hands touching his; making him flinch.
“Come closer,” she breathed; and as if he were caught in her spell, he willingly obeyed.
The feral girl could smell his fear, but she could also sense his excitement. They hadn’t been alone since they were young. She recalled that fateful day when he nearly died; holding his hand as he walked the fine line between life and death. It was a simple gesture; one the old man told her would endear her to him and the others; the others who feared she would inherit her mothers attributes; the ability to change at will from human to beast. It was her mother who lost control of her senses that fateful night and attacked the innocent boy for no reason. The daughter followed in her mothers footsteps; shape shifting at will to the amazement of the crowd. She was the special attraction; more popular than the Gentle Strong Man, himself. But the ring master worried. The old man was dead. Who would take care of the feral girl? What if she lost control and became a brutal beast, a savage animal that would have to be destroyed by a bullet? Yoochun worried about that too. As he stared into her eyes, her hot breath upon his face, he wondered.
“What will become of you?”
“Yoochun,” she whispered once more, leaning in so close that her mouth brushed against his.
Her lips parted, tongue intruding upon him; instinctively he opened up to her and received the kiss.
She growled, like the beast she was; forcing her tongue past his teeth, plunging deep into his mouth, making him moan in pleasure.
He responded in kind; his tongue entwining with hers; darting this way and that; their cries of pain and anguish muffled by each others lips. They kissed long and hard until their mouths were bruised and swollen. Breathless, they released each other from the kiss; Yoochun shaking; still holding on to the bars of the cage.
Her hands reached between the bars and touched his crotch. He looked down as slender fingers released his now swollen cock from the confines of his pants. He gulped hard as she began to stroke him. Resting his head against the bars he pushed his hips forward to give her better access. It was uncomfortable, and they were both frustrated. She needed to feel him; touch him; inhale his scent; mark him as her own. The feral girl was an animal after all. She wanted to mate with him, claim him above all others.
Yoochun wanted her too, despite all he told himself. She was dangerous, her mother’s daughter; a wild beast who could rip him to shreds at a moment notice. He didn’t care. He wanted to nuzzle her neck, hear her growl, bare her fangs to him; rake her claws down his back. He wanted to lick the sweat from her skin, make her mewl as he pounded her insides with his rigid length.
Her frustration made her cry out.
“Yoochun, I beg you.”
The Gentle Strong Man could take no more.
His hands gripped the bars and he pulled them apart with all his might; his slender body easily sliding between the opening She staggered backwards; back against the wall; he crushed his lips to hers, body pressed hard against her. He hoisted her up; her long legs wrapping around his waist. He entered her roughly, the pain of the intrusion ignored as the overwhelming desire to have him inside her took precedence. His hips thrust forward hard and fast as he struggled to hold her up. She tightened her grip around him and buried her head in his shoulder. He punished her insides, his wide girth stretching her, her muscles contracting around his width. Yoochun growled and thrust harder, her juices flowing freely and running down the length of him. She bit down hard upon his shoulder, drawing blood.
“Fuck you,” he screamed at her; the Gentle Strong Man was no more.
He looked at her; her head was back, eyes closed; her lips stained with his blood. In that moment he thought she was the most magnificent creature on earth.
His thoughts turned to that fateful night when he was a boy. His lust turned to anger and pain as he remembered his own anguish; the claws that ripped through him, the fangs that tore him open. He brutalized the beauty beneath him; punished her for her mother’s crimes against him. His swollen head scraped up high inside the recesses of her moist flesh; her body reacting once more to his onslaught; her muscles constricting around his thickness.
His violence brought forth her beastly nature. With fangs and claws extended, she forced him to the floor, ripping the shirt from his back, exposing the evidence of his tragic past. Deep and terrible scars marred his slender body; stitches up and down his arms revealed the reason for his great strength. Years of experiments of grafting various materials upon his growing muscles and bones proved successful, but the pain was so great that he was drugged for most of his growing years. But even more gruesome was the great scar that ran across his chest; the scar that hid an even deeper secret.
Their lovemaking, if one could call it that, temporarily came to a halt. His cock still twitched inside her, but neither dared to move. His chest heaved; pale skin glistening with sweat. She leaned forward and licked the great scar over his heart.
She pressed her ear to it and whispered.
“I can hear your life beating.”
Of course she could hear it; it thumped loud and clear; the sound reverberating against the wall of his chest. But there was something wrong; something not quite right. There was an echo; like something bouncing off of metal. There was something there; something deep within Yoochun’s chest that did not belong and she was determined to find out.
There had been rumors; rumors on that terrible night of the surgery that saved Yoochun’s life; of the experiment that was a success, but had remained a secret to all but a select few.
“Let me see it.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. There was only one way to see what lay beneath his scar, and that road was closed.
“No,” he told her. “I will not let you slice me open like your mother did. Let it be. Finish me off or let me go. I tire of your games.”
He sat up and pulled her close; rocking into her gently he spoke softly, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine.
“Let it go,” he told her. Let it go.”
He held her gently; ran his fingers through her dampened hair; suckled upon her breasts. Her body relaxed as his anger turned to softness; he moaned into her throat; whispered words of love; encouraged her affection.
“I’m so close,” he exclaimed, pre cum dripping from the tip of his arousal. “So very close.”
As he plunged into her one final time, she pressed her advantage. As he reached the end she dug her claws into him. He cried out as he came; spilling his seed deep within her as his blood spurted from his body. He gasped as he felt the razor sharp sting; flesh, muscle and bone ripped apart as she opened him up.
He slumped forward, his hands covered the wound; blood seeping through his fingers; running down his torso in deep rivulets.
“Damn you,” he cursed her through gritted teeth.
She pried his fingers from the wound and dared to look. What she saw shocked and amazed her.
Where broken ribs too damaged to be fixed once were, were now metal bars. They shielded his scarred lungs; lungs which had been punctured by her mother’s claws. But even more frightening was the realization that Yoochun’s heart had been replaced. Not by another human heart, but by a device; a mechanism like a clock; its wheels and gears operated a synthetic pump; a pump driven by a technology beyond her understanding. This was the great secret; that Yoochun’s heart was a machine driven by an unknown power. She stared at it; mesmerized by the synchronized ticking; like a metronome it kept the rhythm at a steady pace; but this time the beats were anything but steady.
The stench of blood and Yoochun’s moans awakened her from her trance. She took what was left of his torn shirt and wrapped it around the wound.
“You’ll be fine,” she told him as if it were just a scratch.
He would have laughed at such a foolish remark if it weren’t for the pain.
“What am I to do with you?” he said, his voice barely audible.
“Remember me always and know that I love you.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
The feral girl scrambled to her feet.
“I’m leaving now. I can’t stay here any more. Not after I’ve done this. But we’ll meet again soon.”
She slithered through the bars and smiled sweetly to him.
“Go get help. Don’t follow me. If they find me, they’ll put a bullet in my head just like my mother. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
Yoochun staggered to his feet, bracing himself against the wall of the cage. He shuffled to the opening in the bars. He slid through them, outstretching his arm he grabbed a hold of her begging her not to go.
“I love you. Don’t leave me.”
“I will always love you. I will always be with you. No matter where you go or what happens, I will always know and I will come and protect you. I am not my mother. You will see.”
She walked off into the night; he followed her despite her warning. As she got to the edge of the carnival grounds, she transformed into her animal form. Emerald eyes stared at him for what he thought was the last time. Unable to follow he fell to the ground, clutching his wound. He cried out in pain, the sound alerting the sleepy carneys’ that something was amiss. The animal ran off into the night, leaving a weeping Yoochun crying out her name.
“Come back, Cassiopeia, come back.”
His compatriots came rushing to his side.
What happened, Yoochun? What happened?”
“She’s gone. My love is gone.”
They examined his wound.
“He’ll be alright,” one of them said.
“His heart is strong.”
Yoochun shook his head.
“No, my heart is empty.”
.