Green Acres? (Ellen)

Today’s scheduled torture, err, activity, was gardening. So basically, he got to do his assigned chores for an extra hour today. What fun! What joy! Along with the rest of the group that had been assigned the hell of this particular activity, he trudged out to the farm plots at the back of the property and picked up a hoe. He pulled gloves from his back pocket, since he nicked them earlier in the day for his chores and forgotten to return them. It’s not like they were dangerous. He listened to the instructions, which, this being winter time meant that there was little to do but prepare the beds for spring. An entire hour of turning over soil and covering it with compost! How exciting! At least he and his partner, a blond girl they called Ellen had gotten the easy job of turning over the soil. Much better than messing with compost. Much, much better.

Their group was led down to a newly cleared area outlined in big squares, teen feet by ten feet. Apparently, the agriculture team was going to add new plots. He and the girl, Ellen were given one of the large squares, and told to simply turn over the ground. Since he’d already had chores doing this, he sighed. More of the same, this was going to be a very boring day, and a very boring hour. At least swimming or riding the horses had different things to do. All Nate felt like he was doing was farming, and he was not a farmer. Not by a long shot.

Once the security cum supervisor was further away, Nate turned to Ellen with a friendly smile. “Hi, guess you heard my name is Nathanial, although I prefer it if you call me Nate. All we have to do is dig down a bit and flip over the grass.” He demonstrated and went on to explain why they were doing it. It was highly likely that she didn’t give a damn, he knew he didn’t, but it was something to talk about and get a conversation going. He did not want to work for an hour beside someone and not talk. He did enough of that when he was doing his chores.

He paused, looking out over the others working, and that’s when it hit. He flinched away from the thoughts and stuck his hand into the pocket of his pants, feeling the cool marker beneath his fingers, hoping it would work to calm him. Slowly, he lifted his gaze from the ground and was rushed once again with images of the other teenagers strung up from trees or running from his bloody axe. His breath came in rapid puffs, and the hoe was dropped, the marker pulled out and frantically uncapped before his sleeve pushed up and he began to draw on his wrist. This was going to be trouble, but he didn’t know what else to do. It was that or run and hide, and runners didn’t tend to fare well around here.

Ellen couldn't understand why these scheduled activities even existed. What possible use could there be in teaching her any of this useless farm stuff? She was from Birmingham, a big city. She'd never even seen a farm before she came here, and she knew she never would again once she got out of here, so why were they bothering? It wasn't as if they didn't have tractors that could come do all of this in seconds, making kids come out here like this was just sadism, pure and simple. Ellen knew better than to question things though, detention was not her idea of fun, odds were they'd just make her come right back out here and keep digging for it.

Holding the fork they'd given her, she stared at the patch of earth she and the boy were expected to turn over, whatever that meant. At home, she hadn't even had a garden, she had quite literally no clue what she was even expected to do here, and no intention of drawing attention to herself by asking. That would only mean they'd come over and expect her to do something, rather than stand around and look confused. The boy she was working with seemed determined to stop her doing that though, he spoke to her, even showed her what they were supposed to be doing, though when he started to talk about why, she didn't just stop listening, she turned her back on him. "Look, mate, unless you've got a fucking fag I can have, I don't give a shit, alright?" she muttered, shaking her head. Great, they'd paired her up with the teacher's pet. Just what she needed.

Not having bothered to introduce herself, she didn't want to be associated with the class brain in case he was a special or something and started to stalk her, she kept her back to him until she heard the muffled thud of the thing he was carrying hit the damp turf. She hadn't exactly been working hard, a skinny girl like her was no use at this kind of thing, so it was a welcome chance to stop even pretending. "The fuck are you doing?" she asked, looking to him and frowning at the sight. Drawing on himself instead of working? Yup, she'd been partnered with the special today. Keeping her distance, she turned to face him properly, holding her fork up as if she expected him to jump at her any moment. She even glanced up for the supervisor, but he was off at the other end of the area, she assumed 'helping' a pretty girl, leaving her to fend for herself. Great. "Look, put the pen down." she said, staying put. "Are you alright?"

Well, clearly the girl had no interest in what he was saying, which was fine. He had no real interest in what he was saying either. He was just saying it to have something to talk about. When she blasted hostility at him, he blinked for a moment, taken aback, and then a slow smile danced across his face. Oh, she was feisty. "Sweetheart, if I had a fag, everyone in this place would treat me like a god. If you are that desperate, I'd suggest you pick some weeds and find a way to burn those." His tone was dry and amused, even as he turned back to his work, not wanting to get into trouble with the adults who were supervising them.

As he delved into his own hellish nightmare and dropped the hoe to draw and try to keep it all under control, she had to speak. Slowly, dark tormented eyes lifted up and he gasped as the images flooded in. At first, there she was, all blond and blood covered, the fork skewering her abdomen, and then the image changed, and she was still blood spattered but alive this time, standing at his side among all of the dead bodies of the other working. He blinked, not believing what he was seeing. The marker dropped from his hand, and he fell to his knees, scrambling in the dirt for the precious plastic.

"Help me! I need that marker!" He didn't know how he was going to function without the marker. Even now, he could feel the shaking begin as he had no way to draw, and soon it was going to be so bad, that he would have to find some way to make it work, even without the marker. He wanted to explain it to her, tell her what was going on, but he couldn't, his brain was completely focused on finding that round white cylinder. Finally, his fingers closed around the cool plastic and he exhaled in relief. Quickly, he rose back to his feet, and the marker danced across his skin as he could feel the tension leave his neck and shoulders.

"I have to draw on skin, it's completely stupid, but I have to do it. If I can't, bad things will happen." He tried to explain to the girl why he'd freaked out, but what she thought of him at that point was just another weirdo. What else could he do though? He had to have the marker because all hell would break loose if he didn't. He'd seen what would happen, and he didn't want a repeat of that.

As the boy spoke, Ellen couldn't help shaking her head. "Oh, yeah, that'll fucking work, won't it." she replied sarcastically. "Dandelions have shitloads of nicotine in them, yeah? You fucking mong." she continued, rolling her eyes, keeping the fork in her hands. This guy probably thought he was funny, but then, she wouldn't be at all surprised if he'd spent his life surrounded by brownnosers. He certainly looked the type, and he clearly thought he was a comedian, despite all evidence to the contrary. Thankfully though, he got back to poking around in the mud, and left her to back off a bit, keeping an eye on him. She didn't trust him in the slightest, and had a horrible feeling she was going to regret what she'd said, soon.

Only when he dropped the marker did she look up from the tiny patch of turf she was turning over, frowning at the sight. "What?" she said, already contemplating walking over and stealing the pen. That should provide amusement, until he broke her nose for it, but before she could take a step, he'd recovered it anyway. It was probably for the best really, who knew what he'd do to her to get the thing back? He seemed happy enough now he had the thing back though, and Ellen was more disturbed than before. She had little intention of staying near this guy if she could help it; which she really couldn't if he did turn out to be a nasty piece of work.

"What are you even drawing anyway?" she asked, keeping her distance as he started to cover his own skin with ink again. She didn't know why she cared, and odds were she'd be departing the second she thought he was distracted enough not to murder her as she tried to get away. Glancing around for the supervisors told her they'd still be little use, but maybe she could hide behind one of the bigger guys out here, if it came to that. Hopefully, now he had his marker, he'd just turn in and leave her alone though, however unlikely that might seem right now. She knew this place was going to be full of crazies, but this was ridiculous.

He had ignored her comments about being a mong, after all, he knew that the dandelions wouldn't have any nicotine, but it was certainly better than nothing in his opinion. He'd even ignored her when she asked what was going on when he lost the marker. But now she wanted to know what he was drawing. All of a sudden, she was curious, and the dark head rose and brown eyes focused on the blonde who was keeping her distance. Apparently, she was interested enough to wonder what he was doing, which is what led to his boldness. Otherwise, he never would have took the few steps across to her and grabbed her arm.

"I'm drawing," he stated in a quiet, yet serious tone. He shoved up her sleeve and drew the marker over her skin, leaving dark blue lines in its wake. He'd meant to say more, explain more, but got caught up in the look of it. Her skin was so fair, it almost seemed as if the blood that ran blue beneath her skin was bubbling up onto the surface leaving the marks, and not just the marker leaving its ink behind. A smile bloomed on his face, and he pressed harder, both fingers and implement making deep impressions in the blond girl's arm. The lines didn't resemble much of anything, but he didn't really have much time.

"Generally, I draw something more involved, but right now, I just need to kill the edge." He knew he wouldn't have time to finish any sort of art piece, the staff would be on them long before that. With that thought in mind, he finished off a line with a curlicue at her wrist, and then dropped her arm, a small smile dancing across his lips. The marker was capped and put away, and he pulled his courage up enough to look straight into her eyes. The vision of her as an avenging angel appeared again, but he shook it off and spoke quietly.

"Thank you."

The words were simple, unadorned. They showed his genuine gratitude towards her for not running away the instant his hand had grabbed her arm. Generally he had to catch and keep his canvas while he drew, but she'd let him draw, and there was something about that, he didn't know what, but it made her special. He bent down to pick up his hoe and continue working before they both got caught doing whatever it was they weren't supposed to be doing. That would likely encompass anything except gardening. So, he looked down and turned over the earth, taking covert glances at Ellen and wondering what she was thinking.

Ellen gave a yelp as the boy darted over and grabbed her hand, the fork she was holding falling to the turf with a dull thud. So much for defending herself, though she doubted she'd have been able to use it for that anyway. The guards and shrinks might have had something to say about impaling other residents on gardening implements even if she had managed it. Trembling a little, she glanced around, seeing no help coming. "Get off me." she said, her voice quiet and filled with fear, though she didn't struggle. That would only make things worse, if Travis was any guide.

She closed her eyes as the market met her skin, not sure if she wanted to see just what he was doing to her. The ink was cold, the breeze made it worse, but at least he wasn't hurting her, yet. Just as she started to open her eyes though, his grip tightened, the pen dig in, and she let out a small whimper. "You're hurting me." she protested weakly, still making no attempt to get away from him. He started speaking, as if doing this kind of thing to people was perfectly normal, and all she could do was nod in agreement, hoping he wouldn't keep this up for long. He was pretty obviously insane, the bad kind at that, who knew how much damage he'd do to her?

Much sooner than she was expecting, he released her, and she stepped backwards rather quickly, cradling her hand. "That hurt." she said quietly as he thanked her, rolling her sleeve back down and keeping her eyes on the turf between them. What the hell had that been about anyway? She doubted she'd ever know. He seemed to have calmed down now though, so it was probably worth the bruises she was sure his fingers would have left on her arm. Slowly, she even picked up the fork, not wanting to look at Nate, but not wanting him out of her sight either. Keeping him in just the corner of her eye, expecting him to try something, she got back to failing miserably at turning the soil over, ignoring the slight pain, and hoping she'd get through the rest of this session alive.

He'd ignored her protests, much as he had always ignored the protests of the others he'd drawn on. Some hadn't raised a fuss of course, there were always the unique ones. But he never knew when he would run into those, so he'd learned to simply ignore the words of negation and do what he wanted to do. Besides, a marker couldn't really hurt. It was soft, flexible, and although it could push into skin, it didn't scratch or puncture the skin. It wasn't like a lead pencil or a pen that could actually break flesh.

He didn't even consider that his hold on her might cause bruises, having not realized that he would be holding her that tight. It was just to make sure that she didn't move. And it obviously worked as she hadn't. Nate felt that it was important for his canvas to be still, otherwise the drawing might smudge or look funny. Flesh was such a pliable medium that you had to be really careful. It was rather like getting a real tattoo. His drawings didn't last like ink under the skin would, but it was better that way, because then he could draw on the same canvas again and again. If it was a tattoo, eventually he'd run out of space, and then he'd have to pick a new canvas.

He kept glancing over at Ellen as they worked on opposite sides of the large square they'd been given. Slowly, he worked his way closer to her, waiting for the staff members to walk off before speaking to her. He didn't want to get caught, and if he was, well, he hadn't done anything really bad, but they likely wouldn't see it that way. So he bided his time and then spoke to the blond that had let him draw.

"You're very pretty, Ellen. I'm sorry if I hurt you at all, it wasn't intentional. I hope you like the drawing I did. The marker will fade pretty quick, but there's no helping that." He could hear how creepy he sounded, but he wasn't sure how to fix it. He was simply being honest with her. He really did think she was pretty, and he was sorry that he'd hurt her. He was simply overcome, and she wanted to know what he was doing. It was then that he realized he'd never really explained himself.

"I have to draw some of what I see. If I don't, I get really nervous and twitchy. I .... it's stupid, but that's how it works." Nate leaned on his hoe for a minute, looking over at the blond he was working with. "I really didn't mean to hurt you." He left the rest unsaid, especially the part about the small thrill he'd gotten when she said that he'd hurt her. He never admitted to that thrill.

Ellen was aware Nate was moving closer to her as she worked, but other than glancing up desperately for any sign the group's supervisor was heading their way, she didn't see any way out of it. He was faster and stronger than her, and she was pretty sure the staff would side with him if she tried anything, probably throw her in detention and give him extra cake or whatever they classed as a reward around here. All she could do was keep working, and try to move away from him as he approached, all in a desperate attempt to avoid both him and the staff. At least he was nicer than Travis, so far anyway, but the chances were he'd beat her if she gave him even the slightest hint of a reason to; wouldn't he?

Her feeble attempts to get away from him didn't work, predictably, and as he spoke to her again, she visibly shuddered. She was trapped now, there was no way she was going to be able to stop this psycho from doing what he wanted to her, and if she resisted, she wouldn't be at all surprised to be pushed down the stairs one day, or just strangled. She knew his type, he'd have done it before, and would do it again given the slightest glimmer of a reason. The more he spoke, the more convinced she was of that, but all she did was nod. What else was there for someone like her to do?

"If..." she began as he leaned on his hoe, trying not to tremble too much, "If I let you draw on me, and I don't complain about anything you do, will you...not hurt me?" she asked, her voice quiet, her eyes on the ground. Maybe if she just let him fuck her too, he'd get bored and find another victim to prey on? She didn't think she was at all pretty, not compared with some of the girls here, certainly nothing that would keep someone like him focussed for very long. Even if he did fixate for a couple of weeks, it was a small price to pay to avoid getting her neck broken.

The only reason he was moving closer was to talk without drawing attention to them. The staff was pretty vigilant, likely because they did have some violent types in here, and there was no telling when they'd strike. Nate didn't like how uneasy she seemed to be, skittering around and trying to keep her distance from him. Normally, he would let her go, but he felt the need to explain, to justify, his actions. It was likely that she wouldn't care about his words, but he had to try. Even if the words that ended up coming out were feeble and made him sound even creepier.

Nate blinked repeatedly after she spoke. Well, that had turned out to be a spectacular failure on his part. Perhaps it would get better if he explained more, but what more was there to explain. He saw things, and he had to draw them or it was just to much and he went kinda crazy. Going kind of crazy wasn't an option in his head. He had to try to make her understand, make sure that she knew that he didn't really want to hurt her. Hurting people was wrong, he knew that, and he wouldn't dream of doing that. Well, he would, and did, dream of it, but it wasn't voluntary. It simply was.

"I don't want to hurt you, Ellen. I would like to draw on you if you don't mind, but I didn't mean to hurt you." That part was true, he hadn't meant to hurt her, but he'd still enjoyed it. That part bothered him. He liked the thrill, but he was scared of it as well. What that thrill might mean for his future was something that concerned him. Did it mean that he was destined to hurt people to get through life? There had to be a way, something to keep from making this his future. He looked up at Ellen again and swayed as his vision once again swamped him.

He'd never seen anything like this before, and a smile slipped across his face. She was covered in blood, but the blood made pictures, pictures that showed the demise of the other people in the field surrounding them. It was fascinating and terrifying at the same time, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. But she'd offered herself to him as a canvas, and he wasn't strong enough to turn her down.

"Thank you. I promise I won't hurt you." It was all he could really say at that point. He stared for a moment longer, enjoying the look of her as an avenging angel, and then sighed and moved back away from her, retreating to the farthest corner of the lot they were on. Hopefully she wouldn't tell the staff, and she really meant that she would let him draw. He'd see when it came time to take her up on the offer. All he could do was hope.

"I don't want to hurt you, Ellen."

What was next? A 'look what you made me do'? or perhaps a gift to 'make up' for her broken ribs? She'd heard and felt it all before, more times that she cared to remember, and she had little doubt that things here would be no different. Maybe this was just how life was supposed to be, the weak dominated by the strong, with no hope of freedom, whatever that was. Usually when she got an 'I didn't mean it', she at least had a black eye though, so maybe a few bruises and some ink on her arm were progress? Unless of course he was just saving the rest for later.

He spoke again, and all she could do was nod. Idly, she wondered how many other girls he'd hurt the way he was going to hurt her. Probably quite a few, but that just meant he'd get bored and find someone else to hit sooner rather than later. Maybe she could even direct him towards the girl who'd pissed all over her on her first night, but that was unlikely. She didn't seem his type, far too strong willed, and capable of defending herself. No way would someone like him, or like Travis, want a girl like that. At least he moved away from her again though, gave her a bit of space, to think about her own impending doom.

Hopefully, this guy was never going to get the idea of tattoos into his head. Ink and bruises, she could deal with. Broken bones, she'd manage; that was all temporary. If he started to leave permanent marks though, there was no way she'd be able to pretend this wasn't happening. She doubted she'd last long if he started that, suicide was better than spending her life covered in...whatever it was he wanted to draw on her. Glancing over to him, she waited until she was sure he wasn't looking and rolled up her sleeve, braving the cool winter air just to see what he'd done to her.