Chapter 4

By: ThalrixVyre

The sun was already high in the sky, its relentless heat beating down on them as Malory and Cheryl made their way through the dense jungle, searching for anything they could use to make their camp more livable. Malory was tired—exhausted, really—and her patience, which had already been worn thin the moment she'd realized she was stranded with Cheryl, was now hanging by a thread.

Cheryl, of course, was as chipper as ever. She hummed to herself, swatting lazily at the bugs that buzzed around her face, and every so often, she would make some inane comment about how this was all "so much fun" or how it was "exactly what the old gypsy woman had predicted."

Malory, on the other hand, was fighting the urge to scream.

It wasn't just the heat, or the bugs, or even the fact that they had spent the entire morning trudging through the jungle without finding anything remotely useful. No, it was Cheryl—Cheryl's endless stream of nonsensical chatter, her boundless enthusiasm, her complete lack of awareness of the danger they were in.

Malory's jaw was clenched so tightly she could feel the tension building in her temples. They had spent hours trying to find something—anything—that could make their stay on the island more bearable, but the jungle was unforgiving. Every step seemed harder than the last, the heat sapping her energy, and the constant buzz of insects made it impossible to think.

And then Cheryl tripped.

Malory spun around, glaring at Cheryl, who had fallen face-first into the dirt, her arms flailing as she tried to right herself. Cheryl looked up, her face streaked with mud, and gave Malory an awkward grin.

"Oops," Cheryl said, pulling herself to her feet. "Guess I wasn't paying attention."

Malory could feel her pulse pounding in her ears. "For God's sake, Cheryl, could you try—just try—to be less of an idiot?"

Cheryl blinked, still looking far too pleased with herself for someone who had just face-planted into the ground. "I mean, I'm doing my best! It's just, you know, hard to focus when there's so much going on. The birds, the trees… it's kind of beautiful like an arboretum or grand uncle's pygmy island, right?"

Malory didn't answer. Instead, she took a slow, deliberate step toward Cheryl, her eyes narrowing. "We are stranded on a deserted island, with no food, no shelter, and no way to get off. And you… you think it's beautiful?"

Cheryl shrugged, wiping the mud from her face with the back of her hand. "Well, yeah. I mean, we've got each other, right? Could be worse."

Something inside Malory snapped. Without thinking, she reached out, grabbing Cheryl by the throat, her fingers tightening around her neck. It wasn't a conscious decision—it was instinct, pure and simple. Cheryl's eyes went wide, but not with fear. No, the idiot was smiling.

Malory's grip tightened, her breath coming in short, angry bursts. "Do you have any idea what kind of situation we're in? Do you ever stop to think about how serious this is?"

Cheryl's face flushed, but it wasn't the reaction Malory had expected. Cheryl's grin widened, her eyes half-lidded as she looked up at Malory with a mixture of surprise and delight. "Oh my God… you're really doing it."

Malory blinked, taken aback. "Doing what?"

"This!" Cheryl gasped, her voice strained but full of excitement. "You're choking me! I knew you'd come around."

Malory's eyes widened in disbelief, her fingers still wrapped around Cheryl's throat. "Are you… are you enjoying this?"

Cheryl nodded enthusiastically, despite the pressure on her neck. "Uh-huh! This is, like, way better than I imagined. You're so strong…"

Malory stared at her for a long, stunned moment, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. She was choking Cheryl—literally choking her—and Cheryl was enjoying it. Not just enjoying it, but actively encouraging it.

"This is insane," Malory muttered under her breath, loosening her grip slightly.

Cheryl's breath hitched, and her hands came up to gently hold Malory's wrists, though she made no move to pull away. If anything, she leaned in closer, her eyes fluttering shut as she whispered, "Don't stop…"

Malory could barely process what was happening. Every survival instinct told her to let go, to put distance between them and focus on getting off the island. But Cheryl's reaction was so absurd, so completely unexpected, that for a split second, Malory was frozen.

Cheryl's voice was soft, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she looked up at Malory with that same disturbingly pleased expression. "You know… if you ever need to blow off steam… this is a really good way to do it."

Malory finally snapped out of her daze, pulling her hands away from Cheryl's throat. "I'm not… I didn't… What the hell is wrong with you?"

Cheryl laughed, rubbing her neck as she stepped back, looking completely unbothered. "Oh, come on. You were into it too. I could tell."

Malory stared at her, mouth agape. "You are insane."

Cheryl's grin widened, as if Malory had just given her the best compliment in the world. "Maybe. But that's why you like me, right? You're tired, you're pissed, and let's be honest, I'm not exactly making things easier for you. But you could let off some steam, you know. I won't mind."

Malory felt her pulse quicken, the weight of the last few days pressing down on her. She was exhausted—mentally, physically, emotionally. And Cheryl, with her endless chatter and relentless idiocy, had been pushing her to the edge. The thought of letting go, of releasing some of the pent-up frustration, was tempting. Far more tempting than she wanted to admit.

She clenched her fists at her sides, glaring at Cheryl. "You think this is some kind of game? That I can just choke you whenever I get annoyed, and you'll be fine with it?"

Cheryl's eyes gleamed with that manic energy, her lips curling into a smug smile. "Yeah, pretty much. I mean, it works for me, and let's be honest—you looked like you were having fun. You don't have to pretend you're not angry. Just… go for it."

Malory's hands twitched, the muscles in her arms tensing as her anger flared. She wasn't sure if it was Cheryl's ridiculous logic or the sheer exhaustion clouding her judgment, but in that moment, the idea of giving in—of letting her frustration boil over—felt like a release she desperately needed.

"You're out of your mind," Malory muttered, though the words lacked conviction. Her voice was low, tight with suppressed anger, and Cheryl's eyes flickered with excitement, like a dog who had just been told to sit before a treat.

"But you're thinking about it," Cheryl shot back, stepping closer, her grin unwavering. "You know you are."

Malory clenched her jaw, the heat from the jungle oppressive, the buzzing of insects adding to the cacophony in her mind. She was tired of the island, tired of Cheryl, tired of holding herself back. She could feel the anger bubbling just beneath the surface, and Cheryl—damn her—was right there, begging for it.

"Fine," Malory growled, stepping forward and grabbing Cheryl by the throat again, her fingers curling around the soft flesh with far more control than before. Cheryl gasped, her eyes going wide in surprise but quickly darkening with something else—something Malory had seen in her before but never cared to acknowledge.

"Oh my God…" Cheryl whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation. "You're really doing it…"

Malory's grip tightened, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts as she glared down at Cheryl. She could feel her heart racing, the pent-up frustration coursing through her like a live wire. Cheryl's body leaned into her, like she was welcoming the punishment, and Malory's anger flared again.

"You think this is fun?" Malory hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "You think this is some kind of joke?"

Cheryl's smile was strained but undeniably there. "I think… it's whatever you need it to be."

Malory's jaw clenched tighter, her grip firm but not crushing. Cheryl's skin was hot beneath her fingers, her pulse fluttering wildly against Malory's hand. There was something oddly satisfying about the power she held over Cheryl in that moment—how easily she could control the air, the pressure, the very breath leaving Cheryl's lungs.

"Shut up," Malory growled, her eyes locked on Cheryl's. "Just… shut up."

Cheryl made a soft, strangled sound in the back of her throat, her eyes half-lidded as she gazed up at Malory, completely at her mercy. She didn't fight it. If anything, she was leaning into Malory's hand, her lips parting as her breath came in shallow, desperate gasps.

Malory's heart pounded in her chest, her mind a chaotic mess of anger, frustration, and the smallest flicker of something she didn't want to name. Cheryl's skin was flushed, her breathing ragged, and her eyes were fixed on Malory with that same crazed adoration.

"Is this what you wanted?" Malory asked, her voice low and rough. "For me to lose it? To take it all out on you?"

Cheryl nodded, as best as she could with Malory's hand still around her throat. "Yes," she gasped, her voice barely a whisper. "Please… don't stop."

Malory hesitated for a moment, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. She could feel Cheryl's pulse beneath her fingertips, the heat radiating off her body. Every survival instinct told her to stop, to pull away and get a grip on herself. But Cheryl wasn't just letting her do this—she was begging for it.

Malory's grip tightened again, her eyes narrowing as she leaned in closer. "You're lucky I need this," she muttered, her breath hot against Cheryl's ear. "Because if I didn't, you'd be on your own."

Cheryl's eyes fluttered shut, a soft moan escaping her lips as Malory's hand squeezed just a little tighter. The sound sent a jolt through Malory's body—an electric pulse of power and control that she hadn't expected. Cheryl's skin was flushed, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she clung to Malory's wrist, not to stop her, but to encourage her.

Malory's lips twisted into a grimace. "You're pathetic."

Cheryl let out a choked laugh, her breath catching in her throat. "Yeah… just like that… I'm so close."

Malory's anger flared again, her grip tightening to the point where Cheryl's breathing became shallow, her face flushed with the heat of the moment. There was something deeply cathartic about this—about letting her frustration out in the only way Cheryl seemed to understand.

"Keep talking," Malory growled, her voice low and dangerous, "and I'll make sure you regret it."

Cheryl's laugh was strained, but she didn't stop. "I won't regret it. Not with you."

Malory snarled, pulling Cheryl closer by the throat, her lips barely inches from Cheryl's ear. "You really are insane."

Cheryl's smile never wavered. "Takes one to know one."

Malory's grip loosened slightly, and she shoved Cheryl back against a tree, releasing her completely. Cheryl stumbled, catching her breath but still grinning, her eyes glazed with something Malory didn't want to think too hard about.

For a long moment, they stood there, the tension thick in the air between them. Malory's breath came in shallow gasps, her hands shaking with the remnants of anger and adrenaline. Cheryl, on the other hand, was leaning against the tree, looking completely satisfied, her lips curled into a slow, lazy smile.

"Feel better?" Cheryl asked, her voice hoarse but teasing.

Malory wiped a hand across her brow, her chest heaving. "Shut up, Cheryl."

Cheryl giggled, rubbing her neck as she straightened up. "I knew you'd come around eventually. You can't resist all this forever."

Malory shot her a withering glare. "Don't push your luck."

Cheryl just smiled wider, her eyes gleaming. "Too late."