Aaron stumbled backward, his heels catching on the stair's sharp edge. A jolt of pain shot up his legs as he fought to regain his balance, his heart leaping into his throat. He turned and bolted, his footsteps pounding a frantic rhythm against the metal stairs, the sound echoing in the hollow stairwell. He sucked in air, his lungs burning, the taste of stale air metallic on his tongue.
A sharp tug on his left arm yanked him sideways, his shoulder slamming against the rough brick wall. Pain radiated through his back, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. He felt trapped, caged by the heavy red curtains that shielded them from view. The deep crimson fabric absorbed the fluorescent lights of the hallway, casting a dim, oppressive glow over the small space. Muffled footsteps and chatter echoed from just beyond the thick material, a stark reminder of the normal world he was now excluded from. Sora's voice, hot and close to his ear, sent a shiver down his spine.
"*Shhh, Senpai, stop fighting what you want, virgin,*" she purred, her breath warm against his skin.
He opened his mouth to scream, a silent cry trapped in his throat. Ayano's hand clamped over his mouth, the rough skin a stark contrast to the soft warmth of her breath. Panic clawed at his chest as his air supply dwindled. He thrashed against the wall, the cool metal of a locker digging into his back, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Sora's body pressed against his.
She ground her hips against him, a wave of heat washing over him, a confusing mix of terror and unwelcome arousal. He gasped, the sound muffled by her hand. A low grunt escaped him. He turned his head, his cheek brushing against her hand, the scent of her perfume – a cloying mix of vanilla and something musky – filling his nostrils, mingling with the metallic tang of blood. He saw the wicked curve of her lips, a dark smirk that sent a chill down his spine.
"Sora, stop!" he choked out, his voice muffled and desperate. "I'm not your senpai! I have a girl I like, Emma! Please…" He coughed, his throat parched and aching. Ayano's thrusts became more insistent, the friction of her hips against his sending another wave of heat through him. He grunted again, the sound laced with a shame he couldn't conceal. A moan escaped his lips, the sound a betrayal of his own body. He fought against the rising tide of arousal, his chest tight, his breath coming in ragged gasps. This wasn't the girl he'd been pursuing. He felt like prey, trapped in a nightmare.
Sora leaned closer, her breath ghosting over his lips. Then, a sudden pressure, a wet, smacking sound as she kissed him, the sound echoing strangely in the small space. She pulled away, a loud *plop* breaking the silence. He coughed, gasping for air, his lungs burning. Her lips grazed his ear as she whispered, her voice a sinister caress.
"*Shhh, don't struggle so much, Senpai… I know you want this… since the first day he wanted a girlfriend… I can feel it,*" she murmured, her voice dripping with a possessive confidence that made his skin crawl.
She ground her hips harder against him, her hand smearing the wetness of her kiss across his lips. He felt dizzy, disoriented, the world tilting on its axis. The metallic tang of blood battled with the cloying sweetness of her perfume, making his stomach heave. He felt violated, his muffled protests lost against the insistent pressure of her body. The faint whoosh of wind from the stairwell offered a fleeting promise of escape. He saw the stairs leading up, the sign for the first floor, a beacon of normalcy in this twisted reality.
"Emma? Who's Emma?" Ayano asked, her voice laced with a dismissive mockery. She gripped his hair, her fingers digging into his scalp, sending a jolt of pain through him. She stared into his eyes, her gaze unwavering. He shuddered, his body trembling. He felt utterly helpless.
"*She doesn't matter,*" she declared, her voice cold and sharp. "*You belong to me now, Senpai. I've seen the way you look at me… when I killed a girl that was a pain in my ass… you had the audacity to call me 'pretty'. I know you desire me,*" she taunted, her voice a low, seductive purr that grated against his nerves.
She nipped his earlobe, a sharp sting that brought him back to the agonizing present. Her hot breath tickled his skin, a stark contrast to the icy grip of fear that held him captive. His legs trembled, his body fighting against the unwanted arousal.
"*Shh, just relax and let it happen. I promise, I'll make you feel things you've never felt before… things that little Emma could never do,*" she whispered, her hand tracing the contours of his chest, sending shivers down his spine. He could feel the frantic beat of his heart beneath her touch.
"*Don't fight it, Senpai,*" she breathed against his ear, pressing her chest tighter against him. "*Be a good boy and hold me close. Show me how much you want me…*"
Her hand slid down his stomach, her fingers teasing the waistband of his pants, sending a wave of heat through his groin. A wicked smirk twisted her lips. He felt his own hands, as if acting of their own accord, gripping her sides. She giggled, a high-pitched, unsettling sound, and swayed her hips against him. He saw the movement of her black dress, the rhythmic swaying a hypnotic, terrifying dance. Her nose brushed against his, her hot breath mingling with his. His lips trembled.
"*We're going to be together, not Kyle anymore, Senpai. You and me, forever. Just say yes… say you'll be mine,*" she commanded, her voice a low, seductive murmur. Then, her lips were on his, a rough, demanding kiss that tasted of tears and desperation. He felt her hand grip his face, holding him captive in her twisted embrace. He was consumed, trapped, lost in a nightmare he couldn't escape.