Bleu

by Michaela Haze

  “I'm hungry,” I placed the heavy jug on the table but kept my fingers clasped around the handle.

  “If you give me information, I will feed you.” Gregory shrugged but his eyes remained on mine as if he was trying to burn a hole in my face.

  I cleared my throat, which was still sore despite my recent drink. “What do you want to know?”

  “Full name.” He said.

  “Lenora Hiscock.”

  “What do you do?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Study. Work. Drink?” He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.

  “I study Japanese Language. Sandwich degree with Computer Science.” I supplied as my stomach gurgled enough to make bile rise up my throat. I clutched my torso as if I could will the pain away. I was starving.

  “To what end?” Gregory queried.

  “Is this a job interview or something?” my voice hitched. “Because, if so, it’s completely fucked up.”

  He cocked his head to the side as if my words perplexed him. As if I was a puzzle.

  “Do you have a criminal record?” he asked.

  “Yes, but it's sealed.” I spoke through gritted teeth.

  “Do you have any medical conditions I should know about?”

  My nails dug into my palms until they left little crescent shaped marks.

  “That you should know about?”

  Gregory ignored my accusing tone. “Yes.”

  “I had asthma as a child. Can I please eat now?”

  Gregory nodded stiffly and left the room again. He returned with a plate full of biscuits and little else. My stomach roiled on nausea as I took in the pile of Jammie Dodgers as he bent down to place them in front of me. My hand flexed on the handle of the water jug and I debated slamming it against the side of my kidnapper’s head.

  I took a biscuit between delicate fingers and nibbled on the edge. I was almost certain that if I ate it too quickly then I would vomit. I put the small jammy biscuit down on the plate with delicate hands. I blinked through my embarrassment and forced myself to meet the shark like eyes of my capturer.

  “Why did you touch me… down there?” My voice broke.

  “To check if you were female.”

  I choked on my own saliva. “What?”

  “Are you a virgin?”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I lost it. Grabbing the plate and throwing it at the magnolia covered wall. It shattered in half and landed on the floor with a thunk. Gregory did not flinch at the harsh sound. My chest heaved and my fists were clenched. I bore my teeth at him like a feral and cornered animal. My legs scarpered backwards, my chair squeaked harshly against the laminate floor as I tried to get away from my capturer.

  He rose with all of the grace of a king, and his smile was bored. Trailing a hand along the table, he swaggered to the side of the table. Enough to make me step back in time to his movements and prove how much of a scared little girl I really was.

  “We were having a pleasant time, Lenora.” He rubbed his fingers together and surveyed them as if they were fascinating. “Why did you have to ruin it?”

  My knees buckled but I forced myself to remain standing. My heart was going a mile a minute and I wanted to run. I glanced around the room, my movements were staggered. “Please let me go.” I begged. My voice was rough. Harsh and pleading.

  Gregory ignored my words as he advanced. “I didn’t have to be nice, Lenora.” He said my name like I was a naughty student. He flexed his fingers and shock ripped from my throat in a strange gurgling sound.

  Sensation jolted through every synapse of my body in unexpected totality. It felt like I was in intense pain but I wasn’t. I did not recognise my body’s response immediately. Sharp and intense feelings ripped through my lower belly and in between my thighs.

  I experienced an orgasm but there was no build up. It had been taken from me, like someone pulling teeth. My breath puffed through my lips. My hands were shaking. My clit throbbed and ached. Every time a tremble wracked through my body, as I found my thighs rubbing together. It was too much to endure.

  “What have you done to me?” I slammed my hand on the table, unable to stop my legs from collapsing and my body from slipping to the floor. My words had no bite, instead they were breathy and exhausted.

  Gregory laughed without humour. “I’m an incubus, Lenora.” He pressed his fingers to his lips and studied my flushed face like I was a painting in a gallery. His detachment was more frightening then the fact he had pulled an orgasm from my body without even touching me.

  An incubus? My frantic thoughts rushed through my mind but none of them made sense. My head rolled to the side and I looked down through hooded eyes to see his hand on my shoulder. My body revolted against me. My mind and my arousal battled in a war that could never be won. I slipped into post-coital exhaustion as my kidnapper touched my skin.

  My face was wet with tears. Every inch of me had been violated.

  “Don’t…” I begged as I drifted into darkness.

  He did not respond.

  Chapter 4.

  I slept for long enough to earn a throbbing headache. My towelled robe was lose, as I pushed myself away from the concrete floor. I was back in my basement prison. Starved. Thirsty. I needed the bathroom. I shouldn’t have drank all of the water that he had given me. My mouth was still so incredibly dry that it felt like it would never recover.

  I pressed the pads of my fingers to my tongue and felt the cracks and ridges on the pink flesh. Dehydration and whatever the hell happened when Gregory touched me had made my head swim.

  I did not know how long I could hold onto my sanity before it snapped like a rubber band.

  I had never been in a fight before. I had never been in pain, not really. I had bruises from falling off my bicycle as a child. Perhaps the odd burn on my wrist when frying something, but nothing to write home about.

  Not soul wrenching and destroying pain. Even though every muscle in my body twinged in agony when I moved, something deep in my gut told me that I had only just crested the cliffs edge. I hadn’t gone over.

  Darkness was something that I had never been acquainted with. It was a far away, dramatic, evil that lurked in the news and on strange creepy pasta stories on Tumblr.

  Darkness was an abstract concept. Darkness happened to other people. I didn’t happen to twenty-one-year-old Otaku Computer geeks who couldn’t ever grow the woman-balls to dye their hair turquoise (like I wanted to).

  I clenched my hands tightly into a fist and pressed them against my lower stomach. I hoped the pressure would distract me from the intense cramping that held onto my stomach like a vice.

  The heavy bolt on the reinforced steel door slid home almost too slowly. I felt my heart begin to sprint like a frightened rabbit. Before my head had spoken to my legs, I found myself staggering backwards until my spine pressed against the concrete wall. My hands came out in front of me in a strange position between pleading and protecting my body. Gregory stepped into my dungeon. The dim buzzing lightbulb overhead made his dark eyes into bottomless pits. He was the abyss.

  You did not glance into the gloom. It held you until your eyes bled. You stared. You studied. I was hypnotised.

  “Now that you have had time to digest my heritage, I believe we should get down to business.” Gregory took off his blazer and hung it over the dilapidated work bench. He rolled up his sleeves and leant against the wall in an attempt to look casual but his body was too stiff and his expression was too fake.

  I had no idea if he was trying to be accommodating or if there was truly nothing behind his cool mask of detachment.

  His gaze hovered over me and gave me the impression of someone being forced to do something that they found repugnant.

  Like maybe give an enema to a cow.

  I cleared my throat. “I want to go home.” I croaked. He ignored me.

  “We have two options. Option one: you play along. I take a year of your time and send you on your way. You
cooperate and I make this pleasurable for you.”

  My eyes widened his horror and bile rose up my gullet but I squashed it down by swallowing over and over until the motion calmed me. Gregory continued as if he hadn’t noticed my fear, or simply did not care.

  “Option two: you resist me. I still take a year of your life. Then I will take your life.”

  His eyelid twitched but his expression have no indication of what option he wanted me to pick. Gregory stepped forward, as if daring me to say something.

  I fiddled with the belt of my robe and stared at the floor.

  He wanted to kill me and he spoke about it with all of the finesse of someone discussing their amazon wishlist.

  His approach was silent and he used a single finger to raise my chin. I kept my eyes to the ground, unable to look into the evil that threatened to swallow me whole.

  “Why a year?”

  Gregory smiled but it was cruel.

  “Option one or option two?” He asked.

  I said nothing.

  Gregory licked his bottom lip and then grabbed my wrist. He still smelt sickly sweet as he pulled my body close to his chest, but the light-headedness that normally accompanied his touch was missing. Could he control it? Was it a fluke?

  He gripped the slack rope around my waist and wrenched my dressing gown open with a fierce and jarring strength that was completely at odds with his neutral facial expression.

  He gripped my breasts hard, as if they weren’t attached to me. His large hands twisted and the friction against my skin caused me to cry out in pain.

  “I feed from lust.” Gregory leant in and gifted the words to my ears as delicately as flower petals. “I do not gain anything from taking you this way. Except to show you your future if you do not choose to comply.”

  My exposed shoulders stung with cold as my gown dropped to the floor. I briefly entertained the notion of being able to keep my legs closed against all odds.

  I could fight this.

  My screams died in my throat. Stolen by fear. His fingers were rough enough to dust the skin of my stomach and breasts with bruises.

  He did not kiss me. His eyes held no arousal. Or even lust. I twisted and squirmed away from his embrace, scratching the side of his face but doing little damage. I cursed my nail biting habit. I thought about how they would find my body. How no one would be able to take any forensic evidence from under my nails because I was a fucking nail biter.

  I found it hard to breath.

  I pushed him away, until he gripped my wrists and tugged me into position like a mannequin.

  I kicked.

  I struggled.

  He did not grunt as he thrust inside of me.

  Dry. Sharp. Staggering. Pain.

  I was reduced to a baser level as he forced my submissive by invading my body like I was nothing. Like what I wanted did not matter.

  My sobs drifted away from my quivering lips, against my control. My fingers scrambled forward as I landed on the floor with enough force to knock the breath from my lungs.

  He thrust inside me the same way that he spoke, moved, and breathed. Methodical. Cold. Stiff shoulders with no sounds. No groans of pleasure. No hint of orgasm.

  His cock was engorged, hard and unwieldy as it scraped against my bloody insides. I retreated inside of the safety in my mind. I drifted away from my body.

  I named all of the prefectures in Tokyo.

  Shibuya.

  Ueno.

  Roppongi.

  Ginza.

  Shinjuku.

  Harukuku.

  I took a mental trip on the Yamamoto line. A railway that ran through the greater-Tokyo area. When my study year memories became to weak to hold the pain and tears at bay, I imagined Gregory's head on a spike with a javelin up his arse.

  I imagined him on fire.

  I imagined him gutted and begging for mercy.

  I swore an oath to myself. I would see it happen. I would stand over his bleeding prone form as I watched him take his last breath.

  Monster or not. Everything can die.

  Chapter 5.

  Covered in dry and flaking semen, shivered on the floor like a broken rag doll, I was alone again.

  The stupid fuck had left his blazer on the edge of the workbench. I wanted to leap to my feet but my body would not comply. My core muscles were torn apart. Every step caused a jolt of fire to race from my pussy through to my spine. My teeth clattered together. My skin was marked with fingerprint bruises, as freely given as kisses. Smears of blood decorated my belly.

  I resisted the urge to reach between my legs and survey the damage.

  I stopped walking. Bile roared up my throat as disgust shot through me. I leant over and heaved but my body had nothing to give. I was starved. Thirsty.

  Used.

  I grabbed his suit jacket as if the navy article of clothing would disappear at any moment. I fumbled around the inside pockets, blind to my search as my eyes were fixed on the steel door. Just in case he came back.

  My hands were clammy. I gripped something hard and yanked it free. It was a cigarette lighter. I threw the slim plastic object onto my discarded dressing gown on the other side of the room. I continued my search until I found what I was looking for.

  A smart phone.

  Thousands of possibilities ran through my mind. Calling the police. Tracking my GPS location. Getting the hell out of here.

  Then the thoughts that had given me a juvenile criminal record slunk in like a serpent in the garden.

  He must have had money. I could hack his accounts and rob the fucker blind. I could make his search history so filthy that even if no one believed that Gregory was a monster with a man's face, I could put him behind bars for the rest of his life. I could trump up charges so that even when I escaped I would never have to go through the hell of testifying. I could infest all of his computers with illegal materials so quickly that he would never see the light of day again.

  No bars.

  No WiFi.

  No data.

  I resisted the urge to slam the phone onto the floor in a fit of rage that would have made a toddler look serene in comparison. I slipped it behind the workbench so I could inspect it later.

  I staggered back to my balled-up robe on the floor and wrapped it around my body. I ignored the itch that came from dried cum on the inside of my thighs, mixed with gummy and congealed blood.

  I fashioned a bed from the flat concrete and curled up like an animal in the corner. Protected from any threat that thought it could sneak up on me.

  Sleep came quickly but it was anything but peaceful.

  I tried not to think about what had been taken from me. I sorted my mental shit into little boxes that I could deal with later.

  It was the only way I was going to survive.

  Even though my sleep would rival that if a corpse, I was exhausted. My eyes were scratchy and every time I closed them my head dropped.

  At some point, the hunger had subsided and changed to a constant stabbing pain in my side. My brain was no longer attached to my belly. I had no idea about biology but I guessed it was a survival instinct.

  I was not slim enough to even contemplate my stomach resembling that of a famine sufferer. I was certain I had lost a few inches though. Instead of being excited about the weight loss, it was a marker of my abduction.

  Someone cleared their throat from the corner of the room, but my own throat was too sore to articulate a scream. What came from my mouth resembled a canary's call more than anything else.

  The shadows in the room moved like waltzing dancers but when I focussed on them, they had disappeared. I had read somewhere that tiredness could cause hallucinations. I must have been feeling the effects more than I had thought.

  The man in the corner had waist length silver hair, with eyes the colour of the sky before a thunderstorm.

  There was a darkness about him. His smile was wide, and his stance was relaxed but everything about him made me want scream and hide. I could
n’t sense a definitely reason why.

  Was it another monster or was it an hallucination?

  Hello Lenora. His voice rang though my mind as clear as a bell. His smile widened when my eyes darted to his in horror. I clasped my head. Fisting my dirty brown hair and tugging at my scalp. I hoped the sting would wake me enough for the man to disperse into the psychosis that he came from.

  When I glanced up, he was still there.

  “What's your name?” I croaked.

  He cocked his head to the side. His elbow rested on the hilt of a sword in his belt. I eyed his outfit with open curiosity, he was dressed in a fine silk tunic and leather trousers. Looking as if has walked off of the cover of a romance novel, bending the heroine over to plant a kiss on her lips.

  I felt zero to no attraction to him. I had no idea why. Maybe it was the facial expression he wore. It told me he woulf push me over and then laugh when I fell. Like a bully.

  I have many names. He said. Why not give me another?

  My brow furrowed as he winked at me and licked his lips. I had the feeling he took humour in my reaction.

  I am in your head, after all. The visitor wore a smirk like a medal.

  I slumped down until I was sat on the concrete floor. I looked at the lines on my palms and then turned them over to study them. I wondered if I stared at my hands for long enough, would my visitor disappear?

  He did not give off the same vibes that Gregory did. Like barely contained sexual energy wrapped in apathy. The visitor had no smell that I could find.

  “Why are you here?”

  To keep you company, Lenora.

  “Why?” I repeated.

  Souls in need of my services often scream the loudest.

  Maybe I could call him Crypto or Vague-Man, because he made little sense at all.

  “I need food.” I said.