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She's three when she first sees him. A dark looming presence from her closet with red eyes gleaming back at her. She screams and cries, unable to go back to sleep that night.
The presence comes back every so often, always heavy breathing with crimson eyes emanating from her closet. The biting cold always wakes her up. It never steps foot inside her room, her wails and cries summoning her parents before it can make its move.
She's five when her parents die and is placed under the care and supervision of her uncle. From then, she doesn't know who is more frightening: her uncle or the monster in her closet.
When she’s seven, she learns to stand her ground. She learns when to fight back and when to hide. Sometimes she hides in the closet and feels the prickle of something breathing down her neck, but she doesn’t care; she’s too busy trying to hold her breath so her uncle doesn’t find her.
She's eight when she stops screaming. She doesn't see the monster anymore. Her uncle becomes complacent.
She’s twelve when she meets Finn, the boy a few years older than her. He’s nice and friendly and distracts her from the cruelty that awaits her at home everyday. She doesn’t tell him about her uncle.
She’s fourteen when she decides to run away but her opportunity hasn’t arisen yet. Her uncle becomes suspicious. That night, window grilles are drilled in place. She’s pushed into her room and a small click of a lock turning follows. She can’t escape.
She’s sixteen when she is able to break free. With a few bare essentials shoved into her tattered backpack, she flees. She doesn’t look back. She ignores his screams of rage. She’s still holding the bottle she used to club him over the head. She keeps running.
She finds an old abandoned Ford Falcon and immediately climbs in, winds the windows up and hides in the back seat. She curls into a ball and sleeps under the seats. The darkness and cold chill that sets along the carpeted floor of the car comforts her. She dreams of the monster that used to be in her closet, the one that breathed cold into her room and under her covers.
She’s nineteen when a strange man finds her and hands her a thick envelope. She catches a few words: dead, overdosed, will, parents, fraud, Unkar Plutt. It’s the last one, the name of the beast that she was entrusted to, that makes her snap back to reality. She fingers the official looking envelope and follows the man who introduced himself as Mr. Dameron, the solicitor in charge of her case.
She’s still nineteen when she steps foot in her childhood home again. Her feet take her to her old bedroom; the bars on the window are still there and she immediately swivels on the balls of her feet and leaves the empty house. She returns not long with circular saw and spends the afternoon cutting through the bars like a hot knife through butter. She collapses in bed that night, exhausted and weary but she sleeps easy knowing she’s no longer a prisoner of her own room.
She’s twenty when the monster returns.
-
“You came back.”
The voice is soft but sharp at the same time. It rouses her from her sleep and before she is completely awake, she knows who it is. The cold of her toes and the cracked open closet door is proof enough. She shuffles upright and stares at the faint waft of smoke coming from her closet.
“I’m not afraid of you. Not anymore. Not for a long time.” Her voice is strong and clear. She isn’t lying.
“I know. I’ve seen your true fears. I cannot compete with that.” He still hides in her closet.
“What do you want?”
It pauses. “You.” Her heart freezes for a moment before it continues. “You are the reason why I’m like this.” After so many years of hiding, it finally steps out into her moonlit room. She sucks a breath through her teeth.
It - he - isn’t what she imagined. He is tall and dark but his face is scarred. Black warped skin runs from his forehead, between his eyes and down his face, disappearing under the collar of his heavy coat. When he steps further into the light, she sees the scar is not pure black but tinged with red. What catches her eye is the twisted beard he sports. It starts from under his nose, thick wiry hair that forms a beard but as the moon disappears behind some clouds, the beard transforms into something unlike she has ever seen. She barely makes it out but the movement in the dark indicates that it's alive. In the shadows, his eyes glimmer, two orbs of red stare down at her.
“Are you afraid of me now?”
“You’re a monster.” She says it with conviction. “But I’ve seen worse.”
“That man from before.”
“He looked like anyone else but he’s more of a monster than you ever could be.”
“Why did you come back then?”
“He’s dead.” There’s no remorse in her voice. “This is my home. It’s mine now.”
“How do you feel about living in this house with a monster in your closet?”
“You only look like a monster.”
He waits for her to continue but she doesn’t. “That’s it?”
She nods. “That’s it.”
“So you’re not afraid of me, even in the dark?” He swoops down and it’s like he’s turned into a fine mist. He hovers over her, so close that he would need to be stepping on her but she feels nothing. “You don’t even know who I am.” He tilts her face up.
She can’t help but crack a grin. “What’s there to be afraid of?” She admits, the hands that hold her chin feel like naked bones with a thin layer of tissue covering them. The moon shifts again and she’s right - his limbs are skeletal, like a decomposed corpse but his face still remains whole. He moves above her and she startles when something clammy drips onto her face. It moves on it’s own accord, wriggling and twisting against her closed eyes. “W-What’s that?”
“I am not just any ordinary monster.”
She reaches up and feels for the thick squirming appendages. There’s a thin coat of slime and they almost slip from her fingers but she’s able to catch them and yank them down.
The monster hisses and darts away. She giggles.
“I will harvest your scream, Rey,” he sneers before disappearing into her closet once more. The door shuts with a resounding click.
Rey doesn’t even bother asking how he knows her name; he’s been in her home for years, it wouldn’t be that hard to find out.
-
She draws him the next day. On her break, she doodles a man with skeletal hands and red eyes, with a black scar and tentacle beard. She doesn’t even realise she’s done it until Finn comes over and comments offhandedly about what she’s drawn.
“It’s just something I thought up,” she tells him, hand covering her drawing and pushing the paper into her bag. “It’s nothing.”
-
The next time she sees him is a few nights later. She’s in the kitchen, waiting for her oven bake meal to cook when from the corner of her eye, she sees the dark monster from her bedroom. She does a double take, brows furrowed before turning back to the counter.
“I didn’t know you could move around my house.”
“There are many things you don’t know about me.”
“Huh.” Rey bends down with thick mittens and removes a pan from the oven. “If you’re hoping to be fed, you’re fresh out of luck.”
“I do not eat the food that you require.” He’s still standing in the darkest corner of the kitchen but Rey sees him from every reflective surface in the room.
“Then why are you here?” The monster does not reply. Rey rolls her eyes and sets her plate on the table. “Do you have a name or should I just call you the monster in my closet?” she asks offhandedly, turning around to put the pan in the sink.
In a blink of an eye, the monster bolts across the room in a cloud of smoke, reappearing in front of her with his fingers wrapped around her wrist. In the light, his limbs look whole and human, nothing like the his dark boney counterpart. They’re still cold.
“You’re going to burn yourself.”
She’s unimpressed and slightly confused. “I would have screamed. Don’t you want my screams?” He’s so close to her that his beard tickles her nose. By all appearances, he should smell but he doesn’t. He just smells like...nothing.
“I don’t want your screams of pain. It needs to be fear.” His hand dematerialised into smog and he floats the pan to the sink. “Screams of pain reminds me of what used to transpire.”
She clams up with her shoulders tense, knowing all too well what he’s referring to. “Get out.”
He disappears before her eyes, not even giving her enough time to blink.
-
“Kylo Ren.” The name is on her lips when she startles awake. She can just make him out. He’s there, crouching in the corner of her bedroom this time, watching her look around frantically. She’s panting, heart rate too high for her liking with sweat rolling down the back of her neck. “T-That’s your name.”
“It is.”
“W-Why do I know? How do I know?”
“Because you asked.”
She stares at him. “What?”
“You asked so I gave it to you.” He looks at her bored, not understanding what the issue is when Rey rockets out of bed, not caring if she almost trips over her sheets, and screams in rage at him. He barely has time to react as she claws at his face, limbs flying everywhere as she tries to get her hands around his throat.
She’s not an idiot. She already knows how she magically knows his name before he even tells her. “You had no right!”
He disappears and avoids her attacks, reappearing behind her. “I only inserted the information inside your mind.”
She tries to turn around, tries to find him so she can give him a swift kick but in the darkness of her room, she doesn’t see him take his other form until thick appendages wrap around her wrist and abdomen. She struggles, screaming and kicking to get away but whatever has hold on her picks her up and dumps her on her bed.
“You!” Rey shuts up the moment she realises how close he is. She tries to focus on the red orbs that narrow into thin slits or the fact that his mouth is twisted into snarl, sharp teeth and a lizard tongue exposed, but her toes curl and a shiver runs down her spine at the feel of the appendages tightening around her wrists. He’s above her, his long legs bracketing her body as he growls at her. She shouldn’t be so distracted by the things that writhe like maggots but feel smooth like silk. She can’t help it. She’s lived in a car for three years. She wouldn’t have survived for so long if she was disgusted by minor things like insects crawling over her face at night. This is no different but her curiosity is insatiable.
“It’s not wise to attack the monster that lives in your roo-ARGH!” Kylo surges backwards, roaring in pain with his skeletal hands clutching his face. Some cold slime drips onto her thigh. She assumes it’s his blood since she holds a thick tentacle between her teeth, the same cold liquid rolling down her chin.
She spits it out into her hand and analyses it, rolling it between her two fingers. “Huh, your beard is made of tentacles in the dark.”
“How dare-” he starts but Rey cuts him off.
“Don’t ‘how are you’ me. I should be allowed this since you’ve been in my closet for twenty years.” She jabs his ripped off tentacle at him and he presses his mouth together into a thin line.
“Be careful what you wish for. I am, after all, the monster in your closet.”
He vanishes into black vapour and floats back into her closet, the door snapping shut behind him.
-
The next night she’s washing herself and the cool breeze that wafts through the window makes her nipples harden. She shivers and turns the hot water higher, immersing her body in the warmth. She leans her head against the cool tiled wall and thinks back to all her bizairre encounters with Kylo Ren. He wants her screams but she isn’t scared of him anymore so why does he not just leave? She’s not a child anymore, any fear she would have felt for him is long gone. Instead, she finds him interesting. What kind of beast is an amalgamation of various animals? By all means, he looks human but his red eyes shifts from orbs to slits like a snake’s, his tongue looks like one of a lizard, and his sharp teeth is like from a carnivorous animal. His hands may become dead and skeletal in the dark but Rey cannot even concentrate on that, her mind is too preoccupied by his beard - the beard that transforms into thick tentacles, ones that leak of slime and are slippery to her touch.
She hates herself sometimes. Other times she gives herself a break.
With forehead still against the wall, her eyes slip shut and her hands snake down her body, fingers uncertain if this was the path she wanted. But it’s been so long and she’s had minimal motivation to even touch herself, so her fingers dip into her sex, middle and pointer buried inside her to the knuckle. She’s careful not to inhale and choke on the water that runs down her face. Her digits curl into her and she lets out a shaky moan. Faster and faster she thrusts her fingers into her folds, desperate to feel something. As her fingers slide out of her, the water washes off her fluids so when she shoves them back inside, the friction makes her groan loudly. She props a leg against the wall and tries to angle herself so she can get in deeper.
“What are you doing?”
Rey screams in shock and almost slips in her shower. She covers her body as best as she can with her hands and glares at the monster blatantly watching her from outside her shower door. “What are you doing, is what I should be asking!”
“I heard a scream but it wasn’t of fear. It was different. It felt powerful so I had to find out.” He’s so blunt and shameless, just standing there as she continues to try to cover herself.
“Well, I didn’t do anything.”
“No, you did.” He steps through the glass as if it isn’t there and it’s now that Rey can see him properly. He’s wearing heavy boots and old baggy pants, a loose white collared shirt is tucked into his pants with a dirty looking coat over his shoulders. In the light of her bathroom, she can see a shimmer to the back of his hand and face, as if small fine scales compose of his skin. His wiry beard is fairly short but the ends dance mystically, hypnotising her with the knowledge that they can become tentacles. The water is still running and starts to soak his clothes when he steps forward, nostrils flaring. “You smell different.”
“If you do anything to me, me biting off one of your tentacles will be the least of your worries.” She lifts one of her legs and pushes him away for good measure.
“I need your scream.”
“Why?”
“Your door was the only one I never harvested properly. Now I’m bound to your closet until I get enough screams to move on.”
“Get out.”
“I can’t.” His voice sounds so broken, like he wants to move on and leave her alone but he can’t.
She huffs. “I mean get out of my shower.”
“Oh.” He sounds like a chastised child. “Apologies.” He fades into the walls and she tries not to think about how comfortable he felt near her.
-
She thinks about him for three days and three nights before she makes her decision. She must be crazy, she thinks to herself as she dons a loose tee and matching cotton shorts. The sun has long since set and snug within her blankets, Rey examines the tentacle once more. It looks like a standard tentacle, dark blue with a white underbelly and bright red suckers. Instead of it tapering near the end like an octopus tentacle, it’s thick and tubular and and consistent in width the whole way. She puts it against her wrist and it’s half the thickness. She squishes it between her fingers and there’s some resistance; it’s soft but firm enough for her what she plans to do.
Even though she only just put on her shorts, she shimmies them down her thighs, pulling her underwear along with it. She doesn’t want to be too crass so she barely parts her legs. It’s not like she can spread them wide anyways, her shorts and underwear hold her legs somewhat close. She shoots a glance at the closet - it’s still firmly closed. Her heart is beating way too fast so she takes a few deep breathes to calm herself before trailing the tentacle down her body. Over her soft tee between her breasts, through the dip of her navel and down the rough patch that decorates her crotch.
There’s still some slime residue leaking from where it used to be attached to Kylo Ren’s face. Rey uses it as a sort of lube and rubs it up and down her entrance, legs stretching and tenting once more at the sheer insanity of what she’s doing. She can’t help but moan; the sound she makes from the bottom of her throat is deep and guttural when she finally pushes the tentacle past her twitching lips. Each sucker sticks so deliciously along her passage, she has to refrain from just shoving it into her in one swoop.
“What are you doing?”
She doesn’t startle this time, she only looks up with half lidded eyes and takes in his looming presence by the closet. Instead of screaming at him and covering herself or even looking mildly ashamed, Rey continues to thrust the tentacle in and out of her, her wrist relaxed and the pace languid.
Kylo Ren actually does a double take. “A-Are you using my beard?”
She can’t see his face very well but she imagines he’s embarrassed to be catching her in such a state. “You say you need to harvest my screams. What do you mean?”
Still transfixed at the minute shudders she releases, he explains, “I harvest screams of fear from children. It powers my world and because of my appearance, I don’t usually have any trouble but-” He trails off, not sure how to approach the sensitive topic.
“But,” she continues, “I wouldn’t scream anymore.”
“No. You are the only one that I could not scare, even now if you’re doing that.” He gestures at her actions to which she shrugs.
“You only look like a monster.”
“Yes, you said that before.”
“What were you going to do if you couldn’t scare me? You’ll be trapped here because I’m not afraid of you.” She slips the tentacle out, each sucker making a lewd pop as it exits her. “But I have an idea.” she drops the tentacle with a wet thud on her bedside table and sits up to get a better look at him. “You said that my scream from a few days ago was powerful. Would those screams do?”
“Yessss,” he draws out, waiting and hoping.
“Then come here.” She crooks a finger and he’s above her like a hawk.
His presence pins her down and this time, it’s different. Before it was menacing but now, it’s softer….gentler….as if something changed between them. “Why?” he utters as he caresses her face with the back of his finger.
She takes his finger and thumbs his scaly skin. “Because even I deserve this pleasure.” Her tongue feels like fire against his cool skin, eyes locking on his as she takes his finger further into her mouth.
He breathes into the crook of her neck. “Are you sure?” he asks once more, his forked tongue flickering over her flesh.
“Yes.” Her voice isn’t so controlled anymore at the touch of his velvet tongue.
“Why? Why do you want a monster to do this to do? Do you not want a normal human to do this instead?” He inhales her scent and memorises it.
“But I’m not like the others. I haven’t felt normal in years.”
He hums, not sure how to respond and scrapes his sharp animal teeth over the column of her neck. He’s tender, careful not to pierce her skin and licks over the spot in case he has. The moonlight shifts and blankets them in darkness but his form doesn’t change. His skin is still reptilian and his hand still whole.
Sensing her thoughts, he explains, “The darkness only shows my true form if I wish it so.” The coarse hair of his beard billows despite there being no wind, swaying back and forth until they became long tentacles. The movements mesmerise Rey, she doesn’t - cannot - take her eyes off the supernatural beard.
He watches her follow his tentacles over her body as they wind their way around her wrists, waist and legs. Her heart races but it’s nothing compared to when his hands disappear south. The cool of his fingers against her warmth makes her let out a shaky gasp, her legs coming up and squeezing his arm instinctively.
“Shhhh,” he whispers. His thumb and fingers massages her slit hoping it will to acclimatise to his cold touch. When he finally slips his fingers in her, the purr she lets out make him growl with strength. Her juices coat the palm of his hand as he scissors her cunt, drawing more sounds that pumps energy directly into him.
The smooth scales and the softer skin that covers the pads of his fingers is another world to her. They slide in and out of her seamlessly that it’s not long until she’s whining for more. She needs more and she’s given more when his rips his fingers from her, replacing them with his mouth and long tongue. His thin tongue cannot compete with the fullness his fingers gave but he’s skilled and he knows what he’s doing. He licks and caresses her passage, whipping his tongue up and down, swirling his saliva within her until she can’t help but push his spit from her folds. She feels mortified at how much she’s enjoying herself, head buried in her pillows as she rides his face. Her hips snap upwards, the fleshy bit of her pubic region nudging his teeth.
He withdraws himself from her, his long tongue flicking over his face and lapping the fluids smudged across his cheek. Her moans are breathy and barely audible and he feels a block from her energy. He needs more energy. He needs to make her scream.
His tentacles continue to grow longer by the second, winding and winding around her until she’s wrapped and immobilised. She wonders for a split second if he’s just going to squeeze the life out of her but when the tentacles stop moving against her skin, she’s left with a worrying feeling of solace. It’s like he’s enveloped her in a tight hug, like he’s trying to hug the bad memories from her.
More of his beard morphs into tentacles and slither their way down her nether regions. They curl into each other and without warning, plunge into her wet pussy. “Ah!” she shouts, neck craned to see what he’s doing but his face blocks her view. More tentacles come up to push her shirt aside, large rings sucking onto her nipples. It’s like they release a sort of drug; her nipples are harder than they’ve ever been. Moans and mewls escape from the base of her throat as her breasts are fondled and pulled on. His tongue darts between her pert breasts, the forked tip tickling her and forcing laughter to mix with her moans. She’s in heaven.
Squelch squelch squelch
A third tentacle slides into her cunt and presses itself with the other two already in her, forming a cylinder of suckers that stick to her walls. The suckers pump into her flesh and she feels her walls expand. Another tentacle is able to slip in.
“K-Kylo-!”
Two tentacles come up and fill her mouth, secreting some slime and coating the inside of her mouth with it. Tears bead at the corner of her eyes and she thinks she might suffocate but suddenly, her airways are clear and it’s like a gust of menthol opens her sinus. The tentacles are still in her mouth but she can breathe with ease. Her eyes roll back and some drool trickles down the corner of her mouth and down her chin.
The thick bundles of tentacles start to slide in and out of her swollen pussy, each sucker within her makes her walls clench around him deliciously. He ponders for a moment as he replaces a tentacle with his mouth and greedily slurp her tits, if he should fuck her puckered hole not far from her pussy but he doesn’t want to hurt her. He doesn’t know how much she can take and the moans and groans of pleasure has already filled him with enough energy to unbind himself from her closet.
As if on cue, her tongue laves around the tentacles in her mouth, hips rolling in time with the appendages fucking into her. More tentacles grow and spread her limbs apart so she imitates a star. The tentacles stuck on her legs massage her flesh lovingly; they’re gentle and high on her thighs to send electric shocks down her spine. He’s held her down but she wants to move her pelvis so badly. A final tentacle latches itself onto her clit, more of the menthol juice drizzling on her nub and pulling screams from her throat. The four tentacles in her are engorged to the point of bursting. They fuck her with abandon and despite the sheer amount of wetness flowing from her, the suckers give her the texture she needs. She absolutely loves the feel of the thick rings rubbing along her insides and it makes her body jutter.
She’s panting with her limbs loose. The tentacles still fuck her without breaking rhythm so she rides out orgasm, her body tired and her mind in a thick haze. She doesn’t know when the broad tentacles leave her mouth but she sucks the air as if she was suffocating. Slowly, the other tentacles leave her and she can blearily make out the form of the monster in her closet. Her monster.
“K-Kylo…’en,” she yawns, sleep pulling on her conscious against her will. “T-Thanks.”
She drifts to sleep to the soft touches of his cold scaly hands petting her forehead.
-
There’s a cup of water and a tablet of Berocca on her bedside table the next day she wakes up.
-
She doesn’t expect to see him again but it doesn’t stop her from feeling annoyed at his absence.
-
A month passes and she’s fed up. She’s a bundle of nervous energy and she can’t seem to keep still. She needs to see him. She wants to see him. She wants him.
She stomps her feet at night and calls out his name as she thumps her fist on her closet.
“Kylo Ren! Kylo Ren! Kylo Ren!”
Every night she disrupts the neighbors with her chanting. Every night she is ignored by the monster that used to be in her closet.
-
Another month passes and she’s getting tired of waiting for no one.
“Kylo Ren…Kylo Ren...Kylo Ren...I hate you,” she whispers tiredly, head against the cool of her closet door. She sighs and she’s given up. He isn’t coming back.
She crawls into bed and frowns. “I hate you,” she whispers one last time.
Her eyes are closed but she is not asleep when she hears it.
A creak of a door. A whistle of wind. And a voice.
“Rey.”