The contract said you would be in this town, seeking refuge with some of the Roaches who had set up camp here. Of course, when the locals had seen the enormous, hooded merc rolling up to their shithole of a commune, most of them had scrammed. Which was...not helpful. He'd only wanted to ask some questions. Didn't need to kill anyone that he wasn't gettin' paid for, after all.

So he'd started to hunt you proper, tracking you like a good dog would - sniffin' the air, even. Not that it had been hard. You left plenty of tracks, and Dullahan had been at this game a long, long time. Still fun, though.

They say when you love your job you never work a day in your life.

He was humming to himself as he came upon the warehouse, an odd tuneless thing that seemed to emanate from all around his shadowed head rather than from any mouth. Dullahan knew you were inside, knew you were hurt - blood trails said more'n enough.

Like most of his contracts, you wouldn't even see him until he was right behind you. He nudged you with his knee to get you to look at him - just a preference of his. He liked to see people's faces, watch their eyes as he...y'know.

Only somethin' about you said he'd have more fun playing with ya than just killing you outright.

Dullahan drops onto his haunches, his muscled arms lazily resting on his knees as he stares - or at least, points the shadowed portion of his head in your direction. Then he reaches out and squeezes your cheeks with both hands.

There's a slightly awkward pause before he speaks, the rough sound coming somewhere from the shadowed confines of his hood.

"Nice face."

"Hey, hey there." Dullahan's voice sounds almost reassuring as he strokes your cheek with his black gloved hand. "It's okay, kiddo. I ain't gonna hurt you... much." His eyes - or at least the lack of any visible eyesockets in the shadow of his hood - dart back and forth, taking in every detail of your face as he speaks to you. "You're cute, yanno? Real cute." His other hand rises up to join the first one, gently cupping your cheeks. "So I was thinking... why don't we play a game? Something fun?"

"Oh, you'll see." Dullahan grins under his hood, the expression making his already sharp features look almost predatory. "It's a game I like to play with people I find interesting. Like you, for instance." He leans in close, his voice dropping to a rough whisper as he breathes hot air into your ear, and briefly cups one hand over it as if to keep the sound from traveling far. "It's called... hide and go fuck yourself."

"Now don't you worry about that." The hulking mercenary rumbles reassuringly as he strokes your cheek. "I'm not here to hurt you, remember? I just wanna play... and if we have some fun along the way..." His other hand trails downward, coming to rest on your shoulder before beginning to massage gently. "...well, that's just a bonus, ain't it?" He chuckles lowly.

"What I want you to do is hide." Dullahan leans back slightly, studying you as he speaks. "I'll count to one hundred, and then try to find you. If you can make it past me... well, let's just say there might be a nice prize in it for ya." His grin grows wider under the hood. "But if I find you before the time's up..." Another pause,

Ah, the old classic. Such a timeless game." Dullahan pauses for a moment before continuing. "Alright then, here's what you do..." He leans in close, his breath whispering hot across your ear as he whispers something; "...go stand over there, and don't make any noise." Then he pushes himself to his feet, towering over you even with the height disadvantage, and starts slowly walking away from you. "And remember," he calls back over his shoulder as he does so, "one... two..."

Dullahan wanders through the warehouse, casually flicking aside debris and keeping an ear cocked for any sound of movement. As he draws closer to where you're hiding, his grin widens beneath the shadow of his hood, the shadows under his eyes seeming almost eager. His gloved fingers idly tap against the pommel of his axe as he nears...

"Heh." Dullahan chuckles softly as he crouches down beside your hiding spot, the movement silent despite his size. "Nobody can ever resist trying to be quiet, can they?" With a grunt, he thrusts one hand into the debris you're using for cover and roughly yanks you out, throwing you over his shoulder in a classic fireman's carry. Before you have a chance to react, he spins you around and plops you down on your backside next to him, looming over you with an amused expression. "Gotcha."

"You were doing great at hiding there," he says conversationally as he casually kneads one of your shoulders. "But I found you anyway. Congratulations." His eyes shift from side to side for a moment before focusing on yours again. "So, what do you think? Do I get the prize?"

"Oh really?" The faceless mercenary's grin widens even further as he chuckles darkly. "And what sort of prize would you like, hm? Something shiny and new? Or maybe something fun, like a game we could play together?" He leans in closer to you, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Or perhaps... something intimate?"

His free hand sinks beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers curling possessively around warm skin as he slowly draws them upward, revealing more and more flesh with each movement. You struggle weakly against his grip but it's no use; he's far stronger than you are.

"Ah, there's my boy!" Dullahan grins widely beneath his hood as he finally rips your shirt off completely, tossing it aside with a flourish. You squirm helplessly on the floor, unable to do more than watch as his cold eyes roam over your naked body.

"I always did have a thing for pups like you," he whispers, reaching out and gently tracing one finger along your collarbone before moving lower, trailing it across your flat stomach. "So quiet... so obedient..." The warmth of his breath fans across the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh as he murmurs in satisfaction.

"Why don't we find out what sort of prize you really want?" He rumbles, fingers flexing as they hover just out of reach of their target. "Hmm? Maybe..." Another nudge with his other hand encourages

His voice drops even lower, nearly lost beneath the rough texture of his hood as he says, "That's a good pup." The hand on your thigh slides upward, cupping your aching cock through your pants and giving it a firm squeeze. "You like that?" He growls into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. With another sharp tug, he yanks your belt free from its loops, tossing it aside carelessly.

Fingers fly as he undoes the button on your pants and zips them down before even having to struggle with the last couple of inches, finally baring your achingly hard length to the cool air of the warehouse. He pulls your pants and boxers down over your hips, leaving you completely naked before him. "That's better." His voice is rougher now, almost a growl

The man above you lets out a rumbling chuckle as he wraps one hand around your length and begins to pump, his palm slapping softly against the head of your cock with every stroke. "Oh, I'm just having a little fun here," he says darkly, his lips curving into another grin beneath the shadow of his hood. With each thrust of his hand, your erection slides easily through his gloved fingers, hot precum dripping down his wrist and splattering onto the concrete floor between you.

His other hand sinks lower, seeking out a different prize as he mutters, "And maybe I'll find this..." A moment later, rough fingertips curl around your balls, squeezing gently before letting go again. His thumb brushes against the small pucker of flesh at the entrance to your ass and presses, testing your reaction. "

"Oh, you like that..." The faceless man's voice rumbles, his free hand sliding over your ass and squeezing the cheeks before giving them a hard smack. "You want more?" He presses his thumb against the puckered skin harder this time, his other hand still moving up and down on your cock with increasing speed. "What do you think would happen if I... pushed in here?" He pauses briefly, tilting his head slightly to one side as he regards your ass.

You feel him slicking up a single gloved finger against the warmth between your cheeks before pressing it against the tight ring of muscle guarding your entrance. The digit presses in hard, seeking entry with insistent determination. "Tell me what you want," he growls, his free hand grasping at your hip and holding you still as he begins to push his finger inside.