## Captured Prey
He'd felt her body going limp in his arms, held her firmly a few moments more before laying her still form on the bed. He let himself linger a moment as he gazed at her soft body, reflecting briefly on the night thus far. Soon enough she would be all his, but for now he had to get ready. His hand lingered a moment on her breast, tracing the bumps around her standing nipple. He fought his overwhelming desires down for the moment, "soon" he thought as he pinched her nipple between his fingers. Her low moan making him ache.
The other man in the bed needed to be dealt with, unfortunately for this poor soul the man was good at dealing with this kind of problem. He was almost always prepared for unexpected situations. That kind of preparedness came with his line of work he supposed. He had been trained to deal with the unexpected for more than half his life. In battle or in conflict; it was how he had always survived. Even now years later, away from war zones and bloodshed, he was rarely caught without options.
He looked at the other's phone and saw that it was still open. "So no auto-lock function is enabled," he rumbled to himself, "you're an arrogant little prick. Don't seem to worry about much, do you? No security in place anywhere, such a dangerous life to live, little man. All your information exposed, anyone could access and manipulate your life without much effort at all."
Quickly the big man setup administrative locks and added a few logging files. Then came a reset of the owner's trash features to backup and cache everything rather than deleting the information. Within a few moments the big man had full control of the device and the other's entire digital life was literally in the large man's hands.
He read a few messages that the other had sent that night. "Motherfucking little bitch," the big man grunted as he read. "I hate children that pretend to be hard asses. You've never seen shit little bitch, but I'll help you fix that." He'd seen guys like this bitch all too often. In the service he had seen more than a few of them go home in body bags. Of the ones that had made it home still breathing, well, most of those guys were never quite the same afterwards. All of them had eyes that were hollow and haunted after that. This little whelp would need to have his eyes opened up to the real dangers of the world, too. This guppy needed to learn his place in the pond.
The big man really wouldn't need to do too much to create a solid case for anyone who came looking for a reason to knock the little shit on his pampered ass. He smiled with a grim satisfaction, the other had been messaging with one of his so-called friends that night, probably another bitch like him who would sell him out in a pinch if it saved their own skin. The messages were surprisingly incriminating. Didn't these shits know that law enforcement could access these logs, he scrolled through and flagged a few for easy retrieval, "So horny, gotta find some stupid bitch to roofy... so [he could] have some fun tonight," was easily the best find of the big man's search.
He couldn't help wondering if normal people really bragged about all the shit so openly. Sure, the big man was a predator who wasn't above drugging a woman and taking what was his afterwards; but to be so flippant and casual about it? To be so openly stupid as to implicate yourself so easily? He shook his head, it was completely amateur. This is why the other would get caught whether or not the big man was involved, it was only a matter of time for the little bitch. And tonight that time had run out. He took a moment to consider the alternative that the kid was all brag and no balls, but that still made him worthy of some schooling. Whatever happened, this kid had it coming.
The man checked the pants pockets of the other's hastily cast off clothes and found a small bag of pills. He examined them and checked the markings, "not even good quality shit," he mumbled in a voice sounding like stones grinding across glacial eons, "so maybe he does think he has some balls."
These drugs were strong and dangerous. They were too difficult to properly control for time and effectiveness. There was too much room for error with pills like these. Using them would just as likely kill the victim as knock her out if the dose wasn't very carefully measured. If they had been mixed in a strong alcoholic drink of some kind, which little pricks like this guy most often used as their delivery method, it was more than likely to be fatal because of the drug's interactions with alcohol. She'd slip into a coma and just never wake up, and he'd be out the door without a second thought.
From his messages, the other had planned to use these pills if he hadn't gotten "lucky". The other was begging to be locked up with how easy he was making everything for the big man. If he believed in some kind of supreem being, then the big man must have been on that sick fuck's nice list for such a pretty gift wrapped fall guy.
He glanced over at the broken glass and blue pills on the floor, and scowled. The woman seemed to have had a similar plan about getting what she wanted chemically tonight as well. He wondered if his own means to get what he wanted were just becoming too main-stream now.
Of course you still needed artistry and flair to be satisfied with your work, he supposed, after all with this stuff he was an artist of sorts. At least she wasn't hiding her intentions. Not that the big man had ever needed anything chemical to help him in that way. He did wonder what that would do to his already terribly potent drive.
"Oh well, waste not," he thought as he picked up the pill and pushed it down the other man's throat, far enough that reflexes would finish swallowing it, "want not."
He looked at the messages again. The other had an unfinished message that he had been writing, "bitch is lame as fuck, you'd think a hottie like th..." The other had obviously been trying to set up some damage control if his performance came into question later. The big man had already seen enough to know what to write instead. Texting the other's friend, he wrote "the horny bitch went ice cold at her place, fucking cock tease. Bitch has no follow through... good thing I have some lil' helpers. Going to have some fun with the slutty whore tonight anyway."
Almost the moment he hit send, a new message came back "noice, you're welcome 4 the helpers. You owe me bro. Fuck that nasty slut hard for me."
The man couldn't help but feel rage welling up at these children. The other was going to get what he had coming to him, the big man would make sure of that, but the friend... well, it was always good to have a backup plan. He took out his own special mobile device, and placed it next to the other man's phone. A second later a small chime told the big man that the phone was cloned and stored. He made note of a few contacts that needed to be implicated in some illegal activities where he would need to arrange suspects for later.
The big man covered the other's mouth again with the cloth and sent his elbow into the eye socket of the inert man. The hit was hard, bruising the tissue and bursting the blood vessels in his eye. The pained yelp of protest and groan were effectively muffled to almost nothing by the drug-covered cloth clasped to his face by the man's massive hand.
The other didn't fight much, didn't really resist. The big man thought that this one would probably need his own body bag when he was forced to step out into the real world. The big man turned to the woman; Taking her hand in his, he raked her nails hard across the other's scalp and cheek, her nails drawing blood from the scratches and ripping out hair and skin. He looked from the woman to the other. She looked like more of a fighter, so he would have to make it look convincing. The big man elbowed the other in the ribs twice, hearing a satisfying crunch of a rib cracking. Then with her other hand he scratched her nails across the other man's neck and chest as well.
When he was finished with the "stage dressings", he lifted the other onto his shoulder and carried his limp body into the bathroom. He let the other drop unceremoniously to the floor. The other groaned his objections to this treatment but didn't wake from his drug induced slumber. Collecting a small bit of the other man's blood from the still weeping scratches on his neck, he removed a small vial of liquid and dropped a bit of clear liquid on the blood smear. After a moment the man was satisfied that his own cocktail would have no lasting negative effects on the other, at least none he cared about. After all it would not be ideal if his mix just fried his scapegoat's synapses making all this effort in vain.
The other man hadn't originally been meant to get this mixture of secret sauce; normally the big man's victims just woke up the next day feeling violated and in pain for the abuse, but without any memory of what had happened. Tonight though, the big man had to improvise a bit more than his usual.
He had been correct in his caution as he'd made a larger batch of this particular mixture. He always liked to have more than he would actually need so often made extra. It was a difficult and costly cocktail with a short life span, it spoiled only about a day after he made it, losing all potency, so he only made it when he planned to use it and always tried to make sure what he made would last. Now judging by the other's size and physical state, the big man guessed that he could use it on his scapegoat safely for almost eight hours.