by Sarah Kate
“Get in there! Get in there!” He kicked her along the floor into the lounge, forcing her to crawl. “Get in there you friggin’ bitch!”
She bunched into a tight ball, not knowing what he was going to do. She looked up and saw that he was dragging someone else into the room. A middled aged man. He was bleeding from the head, and he had been hogtied, but he was conscious. He was gibbering and pleading for his life.
James grabbed the unopened packet of underpants he had bought for her. He tore it opened and stuffed one of the panties into the man’s mouth, and wrapped duct tape around his head to silence him. Then he threw the tape roll across the room.
“Fuck! Fuck, Nicole!” he said, holding his head as if he didn’t know what to do. “Look what you’ve fucking done now!”
He walked over and slugged her in the side of the head with his fist. She stayed on the floor cowering, while he went over to get the duct tape. Her nose felt as if it was running, but she saw on her hands it was bleeding. He taped her wrists together, then shoved her back onto the ground. He retrieved a pair of scissors, and cut at her dress, almost tearing it off.
“I should kill you, you bitch!” he said. She cowered on the floor, her dress shredded to rags. She saw that the man was looking at her. He was terrified, and even a little disgusted by her. She was covered in cuts, bruises, blood and dirt.
“Are you looking at her?” said James. He crouched beside the man, grabbed his face and pointed it at Nicole. “Are you looking at her?”
The terrified man shook his head.
“You want to fuck her?”
The man shook his head, emphatically.
“You think she’s hot, and you’d like to fuck her. Admit it. Hey! . . . Hey! Are you saying she’s a dog?”
The man started to cry, and shook his head. James put his lips next to his ear. “You want to fuck her, don’t you?” He shoved the man’s face into the floor. “Be my fucking guest! She likes to take it up the ass.”
He slumped down on the floor, holding his head between both his hands. Nicole was shaking and crying. She didn’t dare move. After a minute he got back up as if he had resolved what to do.
“You did this, Nicole,” he said, pointing at her as he retrieved the plastic shopping bag. He walked over to the man tied and gagged on the floor.
“No! James! No! Stop!” she said. He put the plastic bag over the man’s head, covering his face entirely, and held it down at the base of his neck, while the body thrashed and strained and struggled.
“Stop!” she screamed. “Stop! Please! Stop! STOP!” she screamed, sobbing hysterically.
He suddenly ripped the plastic bag off the guy’s head. “Well, what am I going to do with him, Nicole?”
“Please . . . “ is all she could sob.
“Why do you care about this prick? You don’t even know him. He wasn’t coming here to take you away, Nicole. He’s just some stupid fuck.”
She looked at him tearfully, with very red eyes. She tried to think of something to say.
“If you go to prison, I won’t get to see you,” she begged.
He crouched in front of her and buried his hands deeply in her hair. “You ran away from me, you fucking ran away!”
“I’m sorry. James, James. I love you.”
He pressed his face to hers. He was on the point of tears himself. “Why’d you run?”
“I was scared.”
“What were you fucking scared of?”
“I thought—I thought—it was your friend. I thought you were going to make me do it again.”
“We’re through with that shit. I told you.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“I trusted you. You fucked me, Nicole!”
He stood up and went over to the man and stomped on his head a couple of times. She watched in horror, her mouth open, her lips trembling. She thought he was dead, but then he moved a little, curling tightly into himself.
James rubbed his face, and sniffed a few times, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. He walked over and gripped her behind the neck to make her stand.
“Please . . . Please . . .” She felt so fragile, if he threw her on the ground now she would shatter to pieces.
He picked her up and carried her over his shoulder. He took her all the way down to the basement. He dropped her onto the concrete floor, then cut the duct tape off her wrists. He beat her, raped her, and again threatened to kill her. Then he strung her up so that she was hanging by the wrists.
He put his arm around her waist and placed a protective hand over her stomach. “If you weren’t carrying my baby, you’d be dead.”
She didn’t respond. Her arms were extended straight up over her head. She watched him go up the basement stairs, and she was left alone. She moaned painfully. It wasn’t long before the pressure increased on her shoulders and wrists. Her head dropped backwards then forwards with the strain. She noticed there were a few dirty food dishes lying around on the floor.
She had been hanging there for about half an hour, when she heard something move in the wood box in the corner. She thought she heard a moan. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. Someone was in there.
Chapter 14
James came back again, looking agitated and haggard. He was sniffing as if he had a cold, and his eyes were very red and watery. He looked at her restlessly, as if he didn’t know what to do or say.
“Is someone in there?” she asked, brokenly.
He looked over at the box. His hands were on his hips. He clenched his teeth, then pinched his fingers into his eyes. He went to the box and opened it. He hauled a naked girl out, and tossed her onto the concrete floor. She was bound and gagged, and her body was marked and dirty. She cringed away from him a little, but he just stood there and didn’t touch her, as though he didn’t really care anymore—as though she wasn’t worth the effort. She appeared so weak, she didn’t even have the strength to cry. She just had a pitiful expression that said, look what’s become of me. She was weak and pathetic, somehow contemptible.
Nicole stared speechlessly in shock. It was deeply disturbing to see something that was probably once beautiful and full of life, completely destroyed. The same thing was happening to her.
James knelt down by the girl, and put his hand on her shoulder. Her body began to spasm. She made some kind of sound behind the gag, just once, and her breathing became harder. “I don’t know what to do with her,” he said, as if genuinely at a loss.
“Let her go.” Nicole found herself begging again. She flinched when he touched her. He put his arm around her waist, and touched her belly which was taut and stretched flat. She just hung there, swaying slightly. Her head fell back then came forward again. He rested his head against her breast, staying there.
“What’s going to happen with us?” he said. “How am I going to trust you? It’s like no matter what I do, it wouldn’t make any difference, would it. Know what I mean?” He looked up at her. He was silent for a few seconds, his face working painfully in his agitation. “Are you going to try and take my baby away?”
She clenched her eyes, and made the tears roll down her cheeks. She couldn’t speak.
She didn’t feel as if she was pregnant, but who knew, maybe he was right—maybe the tests came out false. Either way, she had to get away. She didn’t know how. She was going to become like that girl. He would use her, discard her, and get another victim and do the same thing over again.
He stood up on a chair beside her. He unfastened her wrists, catching her body and lowering her down. He took her upstairs taking her through the lounge. When she saw that the man was still lying curled up on the floor, the plastic bag over his head, his body motionless, she caught her breath, and James grabbed her into a bear hug and half carried her and half dragged her through to the kitchen, while she sobbed in helpless hysterics.
He opened the fridge door and showed her the human forearm in there. It didn’t seem real, but she didn’t want to look at it. He held her tightly
until she was still. Her gaze was fastened on the thing in the fridge. It was real. All the blood drained from her face, and she nearly collapsed, but his arms wouldn’t let her.
He closed the fridge door, and turned her into him, hugging her tightly.
“I didn’t mean to kill her,” he said tensely. “She pushed me—she pushed me too far. It was an accident. I don’t want that to happen to you, baby. I don’t want to lose you. I’ve tried my best for you.” He started to cry, and gag as if he would puke. “I need someone to help me!” he cried, clutching her. “I ate some of that girl! I need someone to help me. I don’t know what to do. You have to pray for me!”
She was numb and disconnected, listening to his distraught and incoherent outpourings. The only sign of life in her face was the quivering of her lips and chin.
He suddenly seemed to snap out of it. He pulled her against him, pointing her face to him. “That dumb fuck out there had to die,” he said. “Nicole, look at me. Nicole! He had to die. He’d bring the police around here. They would take me away. You understand? He had to go.”
He stroked her hair and put his arms around her head. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”
Chapter 15
He took her back down to the basement, but he didn’t suspend her. He lay her down on her side, and put his knee on her and held her down. Her face was pressed into the cold concrete.
“I don’t want you to be able to hear if anyone else comes,” he said, holding her head still. “It’ll be better for the both of us this way.” She started screaming when he took out a screwdriver and put it to her ear. He was trying to work it in carefully. She spasmed afraid to move, and yet terrified, desperate to get away. The other girl was moaning, making agonized sounds Nicole didn’t know humans could make.
“Hold still,” he warned. Nicole jerked and spasmed. She screamed for him to stop, and babbled and begged, but he kept trying to get the point in. “Hold still! Don’t move! It’ll go through your fucking brain!” he yelled. She was blind with panic. She felt it go in sharply, and she screamed so violently that he let her go. “All right! All right! Fuck it!” he said.
She scrambled over to the wall, and slid down, huddled in the corner, pressing her hand over her ear, mad with terror. He threw the screwdriver across the room, and kicked the other girl to shut her up.
He stood looking at them a moment, then he grabbed the two girls and brought them together. He sat with them on the floor against the wall, he in the center, Nicole on his right and the other girl on his left, their heads resting on his shoulders, their faces turned towards each other, his arms clasping them to him. His hands were clutching the outer breast of each.
Nicole’s ear was aching with excruciating pain, and was slightly wet on the inside. She knew it was blood. She stared at the other girl, who was still bound and gagged and completely out of it with terror—her eyes were dead to everything.
Nicole was silent, petrified, unable to move or think, as she lay tightly clasped in his arms. She watched as his hand fiddled with the girl’s mouth, trying to take the gag off her, which he finally managed. Then taking them each behind the head he pushed their faces together, with the most intense interest, probably trying to make them kiss. It was disgusting to be mashed against the other dirty, tear-stained face. He forced their mouths together. Nicole kept her lips compressed, but the other girl’s mouth was wet and open, crying.
Then Nicole started to cry, too. She put her hands up, one against him, the other against the naked flesh of the girl, trying to push away, but he pressed them tight together.
“Why don’t you fuck each other, cunt to cunt,” he said. He tossed the girl away onto the floor, and grabbed Nicole behind the neck. “Fuck her,” he said, dragging her over and pushing her down onto the other girl, who was bound and helpless, and shivering with dread.
Propped up on her elbows, Nicole looked down at the girl beneath her. The girl only moaned inarticulately, evidently feeling exactly what she was feeling, too. Nicole turned her face away, and lay motionless, while he lifted her hips and shifted her about. He was trying to position the girls how he wanted.
It wasn’t working, so he pulled Nicole off. He untied the rope from the girl’s ankles, but left her hands fastened behind her back. He pulled her legs apart without any resistance, and gently drew apart the swollen lips and inspected with curiosity the gash-like opening between her thighs, which he had probably violated more times than he had Nicole’s. The girl only moaned and cried. She didn’t look at either of them. He kept playing with her. Her vagina was clearly inflamed and she must have suffered a lot of pain while being handled.
Nicole was sitting near them with her knees tucked up to her chest, and one hand covering her wounded ear. She was slightly rocking herself, overwhelmed by the trauma she had undergone and was about to be subjected to.
“Come lick this,” he said, and reaching forward took hold of her arm and dragged her over. She knew pleading or struggling was useless. The other girl seemed to know it too. Her tearful face was turned aside, vacantly staring into space. He had reduced them to nothing. He forced them to have sex while he watched. Then he suddenly, grabbed Nicole, pulled her off the other girl, and pushed her into the floor. He fell on her, and with one hard thrust, drove himself inside her as he madly gripped her violated, naked body in his arms and clasped her tightly to him. She was rolling her head side to side, involuntarily struggling under him. He bit her face, and choked her, ramming himself into her like a monster.
When he was done he went over to the girl. He didn’t touch her, except to shove her back into the box, as if he didn’t want to look at her any more. She gave a small shriek, making meaningless sounds, that might have been some kind of plea. But he shut her away in the wood box.
Then he grabbed Nicole. He stood her up and slipped his arm around her waist, keeping her steady on her feet. “You have to stay down here, because you tried to run away,” he said. He clasped her gently around the waist, and drew her against him. “You can kiss me when you’re sorry, then I’ll take you back upstairs.”
She was forced to hang by her wrists for several days. During this time, her health deteriorated and she refused to eat. Still believing her to be pregnant, James tried to force feed her. It wasn’t very successful. Becoming afraid, he brought her down and took into his bedroom again. Even though she was vomiting and running a high fever, he continued to force feed her, jamming food into her mouth and holding her mouth shut until she swallowed. Several times he almost suffocated her.
As the days progressed, she gradually regained some of her health, but she didn’t let him know how much of her strength was returning. She wasn’t quite sure herself. He let her remain unchained in the bed. He presumed she was too weak to get away, and he was probably right. She did feel too weak.
She sat up a little when he sat on the bed with her. He hugged her tightly, rocking her.
“Baby, I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” He wiped his wet cheek on hers. Then he lifted his face and found her mouth. He kissed her warmly, just like long—painful make up kisses.
“I thought I was going to lose you,” he said, brokenly.
“I know,” she said in a dead voice. She was careful not to upset him.
“Do you love me?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He put his hand on her belly. “Everything will be okay once this thing comes out. Hey?”
She nodded. She didn’t make eye contact.
He was insane.
* * *
The afternoon sun was dying behind the curtains. She was under the blankets, resting when he climbed in next to her. He got under the blankets, and leaned in closely, half lying on her.
“Do you want to?” he whispered passing his hand up and down her breast and waist. Her lips opened under his, and she let him kiss her softly. Inside she was dead. Cold as ice. She lay still, in a kind of sleep, in a kind of dream. She stared off to
the side, passively allowing him the pleasure of her body. The tightness of his arms around her, the intense movement of his body, was all a kind of dream, which she didn’t begin to wake from until he had finished and lay against her breast.
She stared upwards a moment, not moving. The air around her was heavy with the odor of him and of sex. Her hatred for him was tight in her chest. She turned her face, and looked at him. He was on his back asleep.
She slipped out of bed, quietly, and put on her torn dress. She walked around to his side, looking down at him heavily. His breathing offended her. Without a thought, in a kind of trance, she picked up the lamp off the bedside table and clutched it in her hands. She raised it over her head, but paused. She couldn’t do it. Her lips trembled with the conflict.
Then she thought of all the things he had done to her, the pain, the humiliation. She let her eyelids close. Behind them, she saw the man with the plastic bag over his head, the girl in the basement, destroyed. And she brought the base of the lamp down on his face, harder than she had ever struck anything before in her life. She did it again, and again, and again. When she stopped he was covered in blood, but still moving, slightly. He tried to turn over. She put her knee on his chest. She wrapped the cord of the lamp around his neck, and pulled on it. His hands weakly, blindly, clutched at her. She kept pulling, and pulling, pressing her knee on his chest. He struggled for breath and convulsed as she choked him, his face congested with blood. Then he went still.
She let go of the cord, and stumbled backwards, her gaze fixed on the bloodstained sight. He was hideous, disturbing, somehow more frightening than before. She was motionless, numb in the finality and unreality of it. She turned blindly, and went downstairs like a ghost.
