Rose was never sure of how it started, but what she did remember were the feelings.

Her teeth hurt. That's what she remembered. The way the top ground into the bottom, the way her jaws locked and a hiss scraped out of her throat. The constant rhythmic agony that was searing its way into her head and the crushing of her wrists underneath her body overwhelmed her senses. She could remember begging at one point in time for it to stop in a hoarse voice that she finally found. But everything became amplified and the raw pain coursed through her and it felt like it would never end. At some unknown point during all of it, she was unable to distinguish the beating of her heart with the beating between her numb legs, and shortly after that, darkness got even darker.

She was unsure of what happened next but when she felt tiny rays of sunlight bask upon her face, she slowly regained consciousness, waking from the night before. She recalled placing her palms onto the frost covered layer of grass and trying to support herself, but she screamed in shock as if brick waves had crashed into her wrists as soon as pressure was applied on them. It probably wasn't the smartest move to make, but when she let her voice loose, she caught someone's attention.

It wasn't exactly the person she wanted to see, but it was a person nonetheless.

Rose recognized this certain someone immediately with her ridiculously auburn coloured hair and distinguishable sleeve of tattoos down her left arm. She had been dating the woman before her, Tristan, for ten months but the dynamics of their relationship was constantly changing. There were times where Tristan was completely vulnerable to her but then there were times where she was simply uncontrollable. There was no doubt though, that she was perfectly capable of taking care of Rose. And that was precisely what she did.

Tristan lifted her sore body and easily managed to bring the both of them into the living room of her house, which was simply across the street. Rose's heart thumped faster and she finally let out a protest.

"No, I want to go home Tris!"

Tristans' muscles tensed and she gave her a look. The emotion on the muscular woman's face was masked by anger, and Rose knew better than to speak. The two made it into the living room without any exchanges and Rose was carefully placed upon one of the several couches.

As her scrapes were cleaned and wrists were bandaged, her breathing became quicker. She blinked a few times, but it hurt to. Her lower lip started quivering and she seemed as though she wasn't going to be able to suppress shaking much longer.

"Who did this to you?" Tristan's voice was almost silent.

Tristan observed Rose carefully; watching her stare at her blood stained pants as if there were worms crawling out from between her legs. Her girlfriends' eyes glassed over and as soon as they spilled, the new streams of hot tears ran over the older stained streaks. The shaking became uncontrollable before she finally looked up and motioned her head towards the stairs.

Tristan immediately looked around as if they were being watched by unseen cameras. All of a sudden, her anger had morphed into fear.

"We need to hide," she whispered, led Rose toward the garage and then added, "No one knows we're here."

Too exhausted to reply, Rose simply complied by wrapping an arm around Tristan and slowly inched towards the doorway leading into the garage, where Tristan spent most of her time. They found themselves sitting in the backseat of her broken blue Corvette like any other day that they hung out together. Except this time, it was quiet.

They sat there for hours with Tristan holding Rose safely in her arms. Both girls seemed as though they were in a still picture up until Tristan finally broke it and turned to face the younger brunette.

With a serious look that Rose couldn't seem to decode, Tristan gritted, "I won't let him hurt you again."

She got out of the car and went over to the wooden shelves nailed onto the wall. She smiled at the beautiful swords she had forged in her very own backyard. It was where she spent most of her time. She was either in the tool shed making a sword, or in her car, snorting or smoking something with Rose. But on this eventful day, they were both perfectly sober.

"Promise?" Rose looked into her eyes, only to find them as wide and full of excitement as her own.

"Yes," Tristan picked up one of her swords resting on the shelf and smirked.

The soreness in Rose's body was overpowered by the adrenaline rushing through her veins. They creaked open a crack of the door and stared into the living room, waiting patiently for the moment to come.

Three hours later, Tristan's heart raced at the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. She looked over to Rose for reassurance, but found that she was preoccupied with grabbing two more swords off of another shelf. However, she did find reassurance when she remembered what he had done to her girlfriend. He had broken her down and left her vulnerable to fend for herself.

Suddenly Tristan's face flushed red and her ears burned. She saw her reflection in the polished blades of her swords and grinned. One second they were still in the garage, and the next second, they had found themselves charging into the living room, filling it with beast-like cries.

The entire beginning of their escapade was a blur.

When it started to settle in, the overweight pig was sitting nailed to the couch by four of the beautifully crafted swords. Two of which were through his hands and other two were impaled into each of his thighs. They watched in an almost peaceful serenity as the bastard cringed in his rightful spot.

They tore their eyes away from the terrific scene they'd created. Their lips crashed and tongues slyly wrestled as Tristan backed them onto a couch across from their inspirational scenery. Clothes were clawed at and torn off in a matter of seconds and in almost no time at all, Tristan had Rose pinned down to the couch as she forcefully shoved her fingers in. Rose gasped in pain, but when she stared over at the blood leaking out of the grooves of the swords, she smiled in pleasure. She watched the twisted expression on his face and thrust her hips into the fingers that were ripping her apart from inside.

Their lips locked again, only this time Rose sunk her teeth into Tristan's lower lip and sucked on the blood leaking into her mouth as they both stared at the pathetic excuse for a life. Tristan dug her nails into the younger girls' shoulders and plunged her fingers into the already torn bud with more force as she glared at the sight of the man who gave birth to her. The pool of crimson both across from the couple and below them grew as quick as the excitement in the air. Their breathing got heavier as the man's chest heaved in a desperate attempt to cling onto the tiny thread of life he had left. The girls rocked back and forth, their actions becoming more prominent and energized with every moment. Finally when his chest froze in mid air, locking up, the girls stiffened and Rose felt her eyes roll back and she held onto her girlfriend as her fluids covered Tristans' blood stained fingers.

They laid in each others' arms for a moment before whispering in unison.

"He'll never hurt you again."