A quick internet search on that movie indicated Silas’s secrets involved genetic modifications.
Me: Is that why my dad is so afraid of you?
Silas: Your dad has every right to be suspicious of me.
Me: But you can’t tell me why.
Silas: Correct.
Silas: I hope that’s ok
I decided right then and there that, as curious as I was about Sy’s past, I hoped he would be our friend.
Now that Sy is a solid member of the Wildlings, I can verify that Dad is still terrified of him. He would never use thatword, and maybe he thinks he does a great job of hiding it, but I can assure you that he doesnot.
Today, for the first time, I have access to Silas’s unredacted files.
And I plan on finally getting the answers he could never give us.
4
SILAS
My phone buzzesas I take down Miss O’Deal’s scrumptious chicken-fried steak with her homemade ghost-pepper sauce.
Hedy: We’re starting Mav’s initiation in ten in the Shed.
I smile, even as my hands tighten into fists.
Me: I’ll be there.
I’m glad for the physical exertion. This food is so good, I need to hit something.
I wonder, not for the first time, if sex will be as good as violence. Or if, like a good plate of food or a super cute baby animal, it’ll just amp up my need to rip someone’s head off. Not that I’ve ever done that. I recently saw an old report where Edison did it once to protect Hedy, and I adjusted my workout routine accordingly.
If sex is as good as it looks in porn, I’ll either have a new way to offload this feeling in my hands, or I’ll need to line up a couple of people to kill after sex. Not sure how the wires of my pleasure center got crossed with my kill center. Probably moreof Blake’s genetic fuckery. Just another off-putting truth I’ve learned to accept about myself.
Secretly, my hottest dream involves Oakley fucking me while I choke someone out. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be into that. To be clear, I’ve never fantasized about killing or harming the person I was fucking. Not that I’ve ever fucked anyone.
I did have a female friend in one of my online high school classes. We were supposed to meet to have sex before she went off to college so we could both stop being virgins. But she stopped communicating with me before we could consummate our deal.
I thought she’d been kidnapped, but my concerned texts, letters, and voicemails, along with traveling to New York to check out her apartment, were deemed obsessive. I tried to explain that I was just making sure she hadn’t been murdered, but that also got misconstrued.
I…yeah. I still don’t understand what went wrong there. Rami tried to explain it to me once, but that led down a rabbit hole to the incomprehensible horror show of aStar Trekreboot and my ongoing campaign to have Spock recast by someone who at least understood Vulcan.
What was I talking about?
Oh. Right. Murder-during-sex fantasies. Then again, Oak’s the only person I’ve ever fantasized about.
After the friend-not-a-girlfriend incident, I assumed I’d die a virgin. That always felt like a neutral fact. Masturbation is a perfunctory, if pleasant, task in the same vein as keeping my nails trimmed and my face clean-shaven.
These feelings I’ve developed for Oakley over the last year, however, give me a sensation under my skin that I can’t quite shake. Unfortunately, there’s not enough masturbation in the world to imitate what I assume will be the immense satisfactionof being squished by a three-hundred-pound man as he fucks me into the mattress.
Believe me, I’ve tried. Even with a pile of weighted blankets, it was a bust.
As for the porn, I don’t watch it to get off. I mean, I’d get off if it was Oakley porn, but…no. I’ve been told porn isn’t super realistic, but I still find it instructional from a mechanics standpoint.
For instance, I definitely, definitely want Oakley to top me. Dominate me, if he’d be willing. I’d fuck him, too, if he likes receiving. But after working my way through a variety of dildos, I can confidently say I’m a basic bottom bitch.
