Kira is everything he's not. Wealthy, smart, cared for, pretty, popular. She has that obnoxious air of superiority when she helps those less fortunate for her, looking down on them like they're stray dogs who come to feed on the expensive scraps she oh so kindlytossed out.
It's probably why she's willingly attending this hellhole of a high school, even though with grades like hers she could be done with high school by the time she's sixteen. She probably gets off on being people's only saving grace, knowing that she's untouchable when it comes to her.
Because she's Kira, the sole heir of some shitty, profitable company. And who'd have the audacity to ever hurt a kind soul like her?
Edgar. Edgar would.
Edgar is everything she's not, mean, bitter, quiet, only favored by the teachers while the students talk about how they saw his crack whore mother. God, he'd love nothing more than to kill them all— Find a gun and blow each and every one of their brains out till the town was painted fucking red.
But Kira doesn't have to deal with that, does she? No. She can look at people like they're trash, and she can spread rumors saying some girl was spreading her legs behind the school for the gym teacher without being seen as bitchy or gossipy.
That snotty slut.
It's like a sheep in wolf's clothing, he realizes now when her blood is on his fist— And she's sobbing like a pornstar, blood running down her face from her broken nose. Like how blood will run down her inner thighs when he's done with her.
"Shut up," Edgar mumbled, too quiet to be heard over her incessant crying and sobbing. "Shut up." His voice shakes this time, louder and angrier.
She's gasping now, blood and tears mingling into something that looks almost beautiful, like art on a canvas. She clutches her face, eyes so wide Edgar could swear they might fall out of her head. She's cornered, trapped between him and the cold brick wall behind her. An alleyway no one would dare wander into, not even the rats who called this part of town home.
And she's still sobbing, like she doesn't understand that this is what she deserves. Like, somehow, he should feel bad for finally giving her what was coming.
"You think you're better than me?!" He shouts at her, feeling the rage boil over in a way that finally makes sense. "You think you can just— say whatever you want about me and my family?"
She makes a noise then, like she's trying to speak through the mess of blood and mucus but can't find the words.
She should be grateful he doesn't just strangle her and rape her corpse. Leave the police to find the thoroughly used corpse of a barely thirteen year old girl. Guess this could count as her late birthday present.
Edgar bends down, grabbing her by that stupid blouse she wore to school today. He yanks her up so she's standing now, the white fabric stained with dirt and blood. Her legs shake like a newborn giraffes, barely keeping her upright.
"You think you're special?" he sneers, letting go of her dress and shoving her back into the wall. There's a sick satisfaction in watching her wince, in seeing those big, stupid eyes fill with terror instead of pity or disdain.
"You think you're better than any of us just because your rich mommy and daddy bought you a nice little life?"
He steps closer, feeling the heat and stink of garbage rise up around them. She doesn't smell so nice anymore either. Expensive flowery perfume tainted with the scent of blood.
He grabs her wrist, twisting it hard enough to make her knees buckle. She lets out another of those gasping cries that sounds too much like a moan for his liking.
"You're nothing," he hisses, dragging his hand up to her neck, feeling the pulse jump beneath his fingers. Edgar squeezes just enough to make her choke on her gasp, just enough to feel the power of it like a drug in his veins. She's so small, so goddamn delicate, and it's like his hands could snap her in half. Maybe they will. He squeezes, watching her eyes get wider, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
"Tell me," he says, softer now but still full of venom. "Tell me you're nothing."
Kira's lips tremble, and for a second, he thinks she won't say it, that she's too fucking stubborn even now— but then a sound comes out. It's broken and pathetic and everything he wants to hear.
"I'm n-nothing," she whimpers, eyes fluttering from the pressure on her throat.
He lets go, watching her crumple like wet paper at his feet. She curls into herself, sobbing again but quieter this time, more desperate and raw.
She should invest in becoming a torture porn star; he distantly thinks, her crying face still somewhat cute now, even with the snot and blood and tears rolling down her face.
He kicks her legs apart, boots pressing down against the pretty pink fabric of her panties— the ones she'd worn just for him. Because isn't that what she wanted, the stupid fucking tart? To be his little savior, to think she could fix him up like a stray dog and have him roll over and grovel at her feet?
He presses down harder, feeling her body tense beneath his boot.
"Please," she chokes out, voice so faint it barely reaches his ears. "P-please—"
He almost laughs, the sound caught in his throat like a wild animal.
"Please what?" he taunts, shifting his foot just enough to give her hope before pressing down again. "Please fuck you? Please ruin you so bad you never forget?"
It's what she deserves, what she's been begging for with those eyes and that smile and every goddamn word that came out of her mouth.
He kneels between her splayed legs, watching the weak rise and fall of her chest as she clings to consciousness. He waits for it, waits for the fear to melt into that look of superiority— but it doesn't come this time.
Maybe he's finally cracked her.
He grabs her by the hair, pulling till her neck strains and she cries out again, that sweet little sound that's almost lost in the alleyway silence. She twists helplessly against his grip, blood running down her chin and onto the concrete below.
She even bleeds richer than him.
"Look at me," he barks, and her eyes snap up with a mix of terror and something else. It's almost like she's begging him now. Pleading with those wet eyes to just get it over with.
"Who's better than you?" He yanks harder, relishing in the sharp help he pulls from her blood glossed lips. "Say it."
"Don't kill me please— You're- you're so much better than me!" She sobbed, words trending the edge of becoming high pitched babbling, perfectly manicured hands on his wrists as if that could convince him to ease up.
"Not killing you is too generous. Try again." He says, pulling her face close to his— close enough to feel her breath hitching in panic.
"N-nothing! I'm nothing!" She says, crying like a baby now. "You're everything, just don't kill me!"
"See? Was that so hard?" Edgar grinned, finally letting the bitch go and watching her slump against the wall, arms wrapped around herself and body shaking like the scared little animal she was.
And she should be scared of what's about to happen. When he has to fight with his belt to unbuckle, not even bothering to pull his pants down enough because all he needed was to free his aching cock.
She's still making those pathetic noises, still looking up at him like she can't believe this is it, still hoping someone will save her but knowing no one ever will. She should know better by now.
He pushes her skirt up, nudging the underwear to the side to bare her fluttering cunt to the world. It's as pretty as she is, pink and puffy and clenching around thin air when he lets a fat glob of spit land on it.
He does it less out of consideration for her well-being but instead he wants to make sure she sees it coming— but she closes her eyes anyway, turning her head to the side.
"Look at me," Edgar orders, feeling himself twitch with anticipation as he presses against her, sliding the leaking head up and down her slit, spreading precum and spit all over the pretty thing. She flinches but doesn't look at him, biting her bloodied lip hard enough to bruise.
It pisses him off more than it should.
"Look at me!" He shouts, voice cracking on the last word.
Her eyes snap open, wide with terror, and he feels her legs tense to kick him off. Any other girl would have given up by now. Let him do what he wants and wait till it's over.
Fucking rich girls— They always need to make a scene. Always need the last word.
Her eyes flick down to where his cockhead presses against her coin sized hole. And he could see the blood leave her face as she pushed at his more insistently, "No— nononono-" she babbled, shaking her head as if it made a difference. "It won't fit, it won't— it's gonna kill me!"
"Maybe," Edgar mutters, hand pushing her thin wrists to the ground. The pulse of his cock is almost painful as he forces himself past her entrance, feeling it stretch and strain around him so tight it almost keeps him from going any further.
She screams like a banshee and jerks beneath him, legs kicking wildly against the concrete. He clamps a hand over her mouth, stifling the shrill noise.
"Be quiet," he hisses, voice cold with anger and excitement. "No one's gonna hear you anyway."
He thrusts again, harder this time, pushing deeper into the tight wet heat of her body till it feels like he might split her in two. Her muffled cries vibrate against his palm, the sound raw and sharp in his ears like music. He can barely move inside her, but it's enough— more than enough.
His grip on her wrists slackens as he loses focus, hands scrambling for purchase on the chub of her hips instead as he drags her further down his cock. "Take it- take it all you stupid cunt." He grunted, bullying fat chub into her poor pussy.
It feels so good he thinks he might pass out. Her body locks up tight and trembling, and he can feel her clamp down on him, feels it twitch and squeeze around his cock like it's trying to choke him out.
"Fuck," He groans, hooking her leg on his shoulder as he finally manages to pull out—Her pussy clinging onto him like it wants to be raped bloody.
And when he shoves back inside her, she cries again, nails digging into his arms hard enough to draw blood. Her face is streaked with tears and sweat, gasping underneath him like a fish out of water.
He knew she was a virgin, just like he knew she was too good for anyone at the shitty fucking school their parents sent them to. But hearing it now, feeling her small cunt struggling to take him? It's almost more than Edgar can handle.
"You saving this for your prince charming?" He laughs breathlessly. "That why you were acting so high and mighty?"
She doesn't answer, just sobs louder as he pounds into her harder and faster, hips snapping against her in brutal rhythm. Her breaths come in broken shudders that match the frantic jerks of her body.
"Answer me," He demands, shoving his cock as deep as it'll go and holding it there, filling her up so full it must feel like she's being split from the inside out. He knows it must feel like that because of the fat bulge showing through her tummy, pushing in and out with every punishing thrust.
"Y-yes," she gasps, voice cracking around the world as her eyes roll back. "Edg—Edgar—please—"
"Please what?" He mocks, feeling his balls tighten as she trembles and clenches around him. "Please don't stop?"
She shakes her head frantically, mind too scrambled to form words.
He doubles over her as he fucks, mean enough to bruise, shifting just enough to cover her mouth again when her cries get louder and more desperate. She feels so good, squeezing him so tight that he can barely move in and out of her slippery cunt anymore.
It's perfect. The whole thing is, Oh fuck," he groans, barely able to catch his breath as he lets go of her leg so he can grab onto both of her tits and use them to drag her tiny body up and down his throbbing cock.
"Bet you thought you were better than the rest of us," He spits, "But now you're nothing."
Her screams are quieter now, turning into hiccuped whimpers as her legs slowly give out from the way he's got her pressed up against the wall. Every time he hits deep inside her, it's almost enough to make him lose it. Almost enough to make him forget why he's doing this in the first place.
"You're all worthless," Edgar says, his voice barely a growl as he fucks into her with everything he has. "No one cares about you."
"Fu—nngh! Ed' I— I" She sobbed, slurring her words out as he bullied the fat chub of his cock into her. In and out and in and— She's cumming with a squeal, sounding like a pig as she shuddered on his cock.
Tight and clenching like it was trying to milk him for everything he had. Her heels kick against the ground, eyes wide and rolling back as her tiny body spasms and jerks beneath him.
He fucks her through her orgasm, tummy bulge moving in cadence with his hips as he angled himself upwards. She's not even crying anymore, just making these pitiful gasps and whimpers underneath him like she can't believe what's happening is real. "Yeah? You like—shit—you like getting raped?"
She shakes her head frantically, tears streaming down her face as she claws weakly at his shoulders. Her cunt is so tight and wet, clamping down on him even more with every thrust until it feels like he's in a vice.
"Liar," he grunts, feeling the heat coil in the pit of his stomach, cock pulsing as he pushes into her bruised and bleeding pussy one last time before cumming. When he finally spills, it's too much at once, almost painful in the way he empties himself deep inside her. Cockhead pressing meanly against the entrance of her womb where he holds it there for a second and a year.
His hands relax, and her body slips down the wall with them, slowing to a merciful crawl that draws out what's left of his orgasm while keeping him buried in her. Her belly bulges from how deeply she's been stuffed, and with a sick sense of satisfaction, Edgar watches it deflate as he pulls out of her fucked out cunt— Thick gobs of blood-tinted cum following in his wake to pool in her panties, staining the delicate fabric a dark magenta.
For a few moments, all either of them can do is lie there panting. Then, Kira stirs beneath him, her eyes still glassy and dazed. Edgar slumps back onto his knees, taking his weight off of her as he lets the moment sink in.
"M' legs hurts." She sniffled, still lying there on the concrete, as a trembling hand reached down to fix her skirt.
"You'll be fine," he mutters, breathing hard, adjusting his pants as he stands over her.
She looks so small down there, her blouse rucked up around her chest and her hair tangled. He knows she'll cry about this to her rich parents, but they've cut her off as much as his mom has cut him loose. That's why she's at this school in the first place.
Kira sits up slowly, blinking like she can't quite see him clearly. Edgar watches as she pulls the hem of her shirt down and wipes at the streaks on her face with the palm of one hand.
"Y-you—" She starts, voice still shaking.
"What?" He snaps, cutting her off. "You gonna report me? I'm sure they'll believe you."
They would.
But when she's opening and closing her mouth like a fish it's clear she believes him. There's a moment of silence, "I wanna go home…" she mumbled, still sniveling like a whiny crybaby shifting in place awkwardly because just a minute ago she was violently raped.
"I'll walk you there, just clean up your face. You look like a crime scene."
Kira whimpered, wiping the blood off her face till all that remained was a big red mark on her cheek and two bigger ones on her neck.
She pulls the leg of her panties, wincing as more cum leaks out and trickles down her thigh. Edgar watches her smooth down her skirt and stands, legs shaking. She's still sniffling and hiccupping, but she's not crying like she was before.
He drags his fingers through his hair, sweeping it off his forehead. He tries not to look too closely at her as they start to walk, but it's hard not to see the lines bruising her skin or the way she limps beside him.
They leave the alley, and Kira holds onto his sleeve like a child. He has to take the second to remind himself she is a child. Though she sure as hell wasn't acting like one when she was moaning on his dick.
The walk to her house is quiet, except for the occasional sniffle or whimper. Edgar doesn't say anything more, and neither does she. He keeps his hands shoved in his pockets, knowing that it's better than letting them linger on her.
The sky is darkening by the time they reach her neighborhood, and he can feel the tension growing tighter with every step. He's expecting her to run inside without looking back, maybe even call someone to come after him once she's safe behind those big fancy doors.
Instead, she lingers on the driveway when they get there, looking at him with wide eyes that still glisten from crying.
"You..." she starts again, biting her lip like she's scared it'll hurt too much to finish.
"What?" He challenges, not in the mood for any more of her whining. He's already spent.
Kira doesn't answer right away. She just stands there "Are you gonna...?" Her voice is small. "Tell anyone?"
"Why would I do that?" Edgar says harshly, looking away from her.
Kira's shoulders slump. She looks down at her feet, shifting from one to the other like she's testing how much they hurt. Maybe just like him, she doesn't want anyone to know.
He turns then, not saying goodbye, leaving her standing there with blood in her panties and bruises on her neck.
It's not until he's two blocks away that he hears the sound of a door closing behind him.