Ghostface Killer ~ M. Never

by Never, M.

  As he navigates down a maze of backstreets, the surroundings become shittier by the second and thinly populated. I can’t stop my heart from hammering. This is going to suck.

  He finally stops at what looks like a loading dock. Tons of stacked pallets hide the car, and the strong smell of gasoline burns my nose. When he opens his door, I swear I hear the sound of a gong. Dread pools in the pit of my stomach. The mind is stronger than the body. The mind is stronger than the body, I chant silently as he drags me out of the back seat.

  It’s absolutely freezing out, the December air pricking the small amounts of my exposed skin like a thousand little needles. I visibly shiver, and the cop takes notice.

  “Don’t worry, little lady, I’ll be warming you up real soon.” He grips my jacket, and I almost throw up in my mouth when he calls me little lady.

  He inhales the scent of my hair as he presses his pelvis against mine. Ugh. There’s a bulge already poking me in the thigh. I just stand still, more rigid than a statue as he begins to touch me, opening my jacket and groping my breasts. The tiny things that they are. There’s barely even a handful. Humiliating does not begin to describe it. My nipples tighten through the thin material of my shirt from the cold, not from his touch, and he groans disgustingly when he runs his palms over the points.

  “Hot for me.” He sounds pleased as he squeezes both my breasts way too hard. I whimper from the pain. Hot for him? Yeah, right. Repulsed is more like it. This, right here, is the reason I trust no adult. This man is a police officer. He’s supposed to protect me from people like him, yet here he is, taking advantage of a young girl in a vulnerable position. Story of my life.

  “I am going to make this little body sing.” He bites my neck and shoves both his hands under my shirt. I’m not wearing a bra. I don’t even own one, and when he discovers this, it’s like a jackal comes out. He laughs crazily as he molests me, mauling me against the cruiser.

  “So soft. So soft and sweet and innocent.” He sounds like a madman. His tone is hushed but to me it’s laced with dread. My pulse pounds faster than a frightened rabbit’s as he pushes my coat off my shoulders, drags up my thin t-shirt, and pulls down my pants. I’m awkwardly naked and completely humiliated.

  Can we please just get this over with? He steps back and admires me. I can barely look at him.

  “God, you’re pretty,” he heaves as he scans his eyes over my helpless form. He hasn’t even uncuffed me. “I gave you a compliment.” He grabs my face in a fit of anger and forces me to acknowledge him. “Say thank you.”

  It takes me a few heated seconds, but the dangerous flickering in his eyes tells me not to cross him.

  “Thank you,” I mutter.

  “You’re welcome. You’ll say thank you every time I serve you a compliment. You’ll be my good, obedient, sweet little lady, understand?”

  I try not to shake in his hold as I agree to what he says with a pathetic head nod.

  “Good.” He releases my face, satisfied. Taking my arm, he drags me to the front of the beat up old Cutlass. “Turn around and bend over,” he orders. Here it comes. I hold my breath as I do as I’m told. My eyes stinging with hot, unshed tears. I will not cry. This is the ticket to my freedom. I chose this over going to jail. So suck it up. I press my cheek against the warm hood and screw my watery eyes shut. The chilly air against my bottom brings me to an unwelcome collision.

  “Fuck, you’re so sweet.” I hear the zipper of his jeans. “I’m not even inside you yet and I’m about to come.” He grabs my ass, and I unconsciously push up onto my toes.

  “Eager for it, little lady?” He rubs his dick against my entrance and breathes like a savage.

  Yuck, no. Apprehensive. I don’t want it to hurt. It always hurts.

  “Are you at least going to uncuff me?” My fingertips are starting to go numb.

  “No, why would I do a fool thing like that? I like you tied up. Helpless and all mine.” He drives into me without any warning, and I scream. “I know it’s good.” He grunts as my stomach rolls. It’s not good. It’s disgusting. I hate it. I hate him. I press my fingernails into my palms until it feels like I’m going to draw blood, until I feel my own self-inflicting pain rather than him inside me. My hips slam against the car with every jarring thrust. I’m going to be bruised all over by the time this night is through. I don’t know how long it takes, could’ve been minutes, could’ve been an hour, but I breathe for the first time when I recognize the broken moans and he freezes inside me. He’s done.

  It’s done.

  I allow my body to relax as he pulls out. I’ve been a tense, knotted ball of anxiety from the moment he yanked me out of the back seat.

  “Okay, you’re done. Now let me go.” I try to push off the hood so I can stand upright. All I want is to cover myself and disappear into the darkness.

  “Who says we’re done?” The cop slams me back down.

  “I gave you what you want, now give me what I want!” I shout. “Let me go!”

  He laughs sinisterly as I struggle. “I’m nowhere near done with you, little lady. We’re just getting started,” he hisses.

  Just getting started?

  “We’re done!” I try to kick him, and he laughs some more.

  “You don’t want to do that. You don’t want to piss me off. It won’t be pleasant for you.”

  “None of this is pleasant for me!” I buck and flail. “Get off me, you sick piece of shit! Get off me!”

  “Not a fucking chance.” He grabs a fistful of my hair and bangs my head against the hood of the car. I see stars, but it doesn’t knock me out. It doesn’t stop me from fighting him either.

  “Get away from me!” I screech as I try to break free.

  “You want to fight me? I like that, too. I like to break slutty little bitches like you.”

  During our struggle, he slips something around my neck. All my oxygen is suddenly cut off as I’m paralyzed with fear.

  “Are we going to behave now?” The noose creaks, and I realize it’s his leather belt. I whimper helplessly.

  “That’s exactly the response I was looking for my. Sweet. Little. Lady.”

  I cry and choke as he plays with my life. “I said we weren’t through. You can cry and scream. It will fall on deaf ears. No one can hear you, and I love the sound of suffering.” A tiny little noise escapes my lips. A frantic plea to let me go.

  “Tonight, you belong to me. And I plan to take advantage of every single hole your body has to offer.” I feel the brush of his semi-hard erection against the opening of my ass.

  “No.” I try to pull away, but he tightens the belt around my neck, subduing me.

  “Yes.” He pokes the head against the tense hole.

  “No, no, no.” I try to get away as he overpowers my small frame.

  “That’s right, fight me, sweetheart. Say no.” The sick, twisted bastard wants to hear me beg. “Say no.” He breaches the entrance, and I scream no not because he ordered me to, but because I really don’t want this.

  “Scream no.” He slides in deeper, and I cry in agony. It hurts so much. More than anything has ever hurt before.

  “Scream no.” He pulls on the belt, contorting my body, lifting my chest off the hood as he traps my tiny hips against the car.

  “No! No! No!” I feebly cry as every minuscule inch of him invades the virgin part of me. Half way through he stops as I gasp for air. My face stained with an unstoppable stream of freezing tears. I’m not sure, but I’m either going into shock or going numb from frostbite. Regardless of which, I’m fading away, and I’m completely okay with that. Anything that will remove me from this nightmare I’ll gladly welcome.

  “Do you think you can escape me?” he asks as if he knows my head is slipping into the clouds. I have no strength to answer, nor do I want to. “Scream no.”

  “NO!” I scream at the top of my lungs as my body is ripped right in two.

  The world is hazy as it passes by in the window. I thought I died, and when I realiz
ed I hadn’t, I wished that I did. With all the things I’ve been through in my life, I’ve never once wished for death until tonight. The man in the driver’s seat is a devil with a badge and a free pass to terrorize the city.

  I’m his latest victim. Me, a fourteen-year-old girl, living on the streets. A girl who has nothing. A girl who is nothing. The sky begins to turn pink over the high-rises as morning breaks. He raped me all night. In every which way. Everything hurts. My entire fucking body. I can barely move without a reminder. He said he liked to break slutty little bitches like me. And he did just that. He broke me.

  The car stops in front of a brick building, and it takes me a second to realize where we are.

  “You’re taking me in?” I kick the back of his seat as I see dozens of police cars and officers coming to and fro’. “You said if I gave you what you want, you’d give me what I want! And I want to get the hell away from you!” I continue to kick as a burst of unwelcome emotion erupts inside me. Up until this second I was completely numb, suppressing the feelings of blame and disgust. I don’t know what I thought he was going to do with me when it was all over, but show up at a police station was the furthest thing from my mind.

  “Settle down back there,” he barks at me.

  “Never!” I screech. “I’m going to tell everyone! I’m going to tell everyone how you raped me!”

  “Hey!” The cop spins around in his seat and grabs me. “You’re not going to say shit. You’re going to keep that slutty little mouth of yours shut—”

  “Or what?” I challenge.

  His facial expression turns to stone and the look in his eyes deadly. “Listen to me, little lady.” My stomach turns when he uses my pet name. “I can make your time in juvie pleasant or not so pleasant,” he threatens. “You’ve experienced what I’m capable of. It’s your choice.”

  I immediately shut my mouth.

  “You’re not a dumb blonde after all.”

  I spit at him in response, and he laughs. “I definitely enjoyed that fire last night. I’ll be jerking off to the memory of you for a long time.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, making his nasty mustache dance.

  “You’re disgusting,” I seethe.

  “You love it,” he mocks.

  “You’re out of your mind.”

  “Maybe.” He lets go of me and gets out of the car, then drags me out of the back seat. I’ve been handcuffed the whole time. My wrists feel like someone tried to saw them off from the metal constantly digging into my skin.

  My fucking fate is sealed as I’m placed in a jail cell by myself. By law, juveniles have to be separated from general population, which means I’ll be all by my lonesome until a social worker or my probation officer shows up. And God knows how long that will be. I tuck myself into a ball on the hard, wooden bench and cry silent tears. I want to disappear. Just shrink away until the cracks in the floor become a landmine of black holes.

  I have reached the lowest point in my short life. Facing the rest of my teenage years behind bars in an environment worse than war. I cry harder, hopelessness dragging me under.

  The reality of it all is that I’m nothing more than a dirty, damaged, neglected statistic about to get swallowed up by the system. A reality I’ve been running from for three years—that I have absolutely no purpose and nothing to live for.

  The slide of the steel door screeches as it opens. I don’t look up to see who’s entering my cell. I don’t really care. At this point, I don’t care about anything.

  “Rough night?” A man’s voice beckons me to look up.

  “The worst ev—” The words die on my lips as I gaze into a pair of steely green eyes. My heart drops like a two-ton boulder.

  “How did you get in here?”

  “I have my ways.” He saunters toward me dressed in black dress pants and a fitted black turtleneck.

  “Come to taunt me? Or maybe you want to spank me again?”

  His lips twist into a perverted smile. “I’d love to spank you again.” He glances at the open cell door. “But not here.”

  “Where then?” I don’t know why I’m goading him. But I’m suddenly extremely pissed off, and all I want to do is hit something. Or someone, maybe him.

  The man I pickpocketed last night crouches in front of me so we are eyelevel. It’s the first real look I get of him. Of all his features. He’s older, that’s for sure. But handsome in that Christian Bale, American Psycho kind of way. Well-dressed with danger dancing in his sharp emerald eyes.

  He doesn’t speak; he just balances in front of me as he looks me over. As he measures me up.

  I don’t know how to react, so I just stay crunched in my safe little ball.

  “How old are you?” he finally asks, his voice as smooth as silk.

  “Fourteen,” I answer hesitantly.

  “That young?” His facial expression doesn’t match the surprise in his tone. “I thought at least sixteen. Your smart mouth ages you. And your spirit, and your long, blonde hair.” He musingly pulls a strand through his fingers as I jerk my head away. “You’re very pretty.”

  I don’t say a word. I’ve been told that before. And it always means the same damn thing. Images of last night flash through my mind like destructive lightning.

  “Go away. Leave me alone,” I hiss.

  “But you haven’t heard my proposition.”

  “I’m sure whatever it is, I’m not interested.” I’m no whore. I’m not selling myself for him or anyone else.

  “You sure about that? You don’t seem to have many options at the moment.” He alludes to my current situation.

  “You can drop the charges. There’s an option.”

  “It may be.”

  I perk up at the sound of that.

  “What do you want?” I ask cautiously.

  “A name.”

  “Any name?” I smart off.

  “Your name.” His eyes narrow. He’s not interested in any of my shit. I wish I wasn’t interested in anything he had to say. “Well?” The man clearly doesn’t like to wait.

  “Stephanie,” I reluctantly divulge. “But everyone calls me Stevie.”

  “Mmm”—he continues to analyze me—“Stevie. I like it.”

  “So happy it pleases you,” I sneer.

  “You have quite the chip on your shoulder, Stevie.” The way my name rolls off his tongue is nerve-wracking. If he knew what I went through last night, he’d understand. He’d understand that I want nothing to do with him or any sick, perverted trade agreement he’s going to offer.

  “Please, just leave me alone.” I drop my forehead against my knees and will him away.

  “You’d rather rot in this jail cell than hear what I have to say?”

  “Only if you’re going to offer me my freedom without me having to spread my legs.”

  Silence.

  That’s what I thought.

  “Just go.” I don’t raise my head. I don’t even want to look at him. I don’t want him to look at me. I just want to disappear.

  “Stevie, look at me.” His tone is firm.

  “No,” I refuse.

  “Yes.” He snakes his hand under my wet chin and forces my face up. “How much is your life worth?”

  I don’t respond because I have no idea. Before last night, it might have been worth something. But right now? Nothing much.

  I just stare into the icy green abyss of his eyes. What’s this guy’s angle? What does he want from me?

  “I’m going to ask you once more. And you get only one reply. One reply that can change your entire situation. Your entire life,” he emphasizes. “How much is your life worth? Is it worth enough to kill for?” He phrases it slowly so I absorb every word.

  If I could drop my jaw, I would. Kill? Is it worth enough to kill for? Would I kill to save myself?

  “Answer me, Stevie.” He shakes my face and demands a response before holding up my gold ring.

  One look at the thin, shiny band and I impulsively answer, “Yes.”

&n
bsp; Stevie ~Age 24

  Present day

  MY WHITE BRA and panties glow under the black lights as I make my way up the winding staircase to the second floor. Below me, naked girls in six-inch heels twirl and flip on metal poles, enticing half-drunken men. The electric pop music thumps loudly as I deliver a tray of drinks to a VIP party—a bunch of high-rolling regulars who rent the space out several times a month. Big spenders looking to get drunk and get laid. Which isn’t a problem considering there’s an ample amount of alcohol and plenty of girls prowling around to oblige.

  I serve the one-hundred-and-fifty-dollar-per-glass Cognac to each of the three gentlemen occupying the white-tufted, semi-circle couch by the balcony. It’s the best seat in the house. I drop two rocks glasses full of amber liquid on the coffee table, and the third I hand over in a more personal way, slipping into the clients lap I’ve been working all night. He’s going to be my payout. This is his third drink, and you can see the effects of the 70 proof VSOP setting in. He liberally rubs his hands all over my body as I feed him a sip of his drink.

  “How long are going to tease me?” I flirt with the fool.

  His heavy blue eyes meet mine as he palms one of my breasts.

  “Who’s teasing? I’m right here.” He has a gruff New York accent.

  “So am I, for the right price.” I run my fingertip around his lips.

  “I’d pay anything for a go at you.”

  “For five hundred dollars, you can have me for an entire hour.”

  “That’s all?” He laughs mockingly. “You’re a bargain.”

  “I could always jack up the price to make me feel more high end.”

  “Are we negotiating now?”

  “No.” I lean in closer, tempting him. “I’m just eager to get your pants off.”

  “And my money in your pocket.” He’s not as dumb as he looks.

  I smile. “I am a businesswoman.”

  “Gotta respect that.” He gestures with his head, indicating he wants another sip of Cognac. I’m all too willing to give him what he wants. Anything he wants.

  That’s my job.

  At the moment.

  “Are you ready to sneak away and have your go at me?” I rub my chest against his, his grip on my breast becoming tighter.