Fortnight of Fright

(Closed for Se7en_)


Rebecca Hamilton sits quietly in the back of a town car her head resting back against the seat as she stares out the window watching the town of Greenwich, Connecticut fade away into open fields and forest. The occasional farm house or mansion can be seen tuck away in the distance from the highway. Her thoughts reflect on the past school year at Brown. Her junior year proved to be challenging, she immersed herself in her studies and managed to hold a 4.0 for both semesters something she hadn’t accomplished since high school. She’d played her hardest on the Lacrosse team and while they didn’t make it past the first round of the NCAA tournament they’d had a good season. Everything had gone smoothly with the exception of her love life; she knew she would be busy at the start of the year and made plans not to get involved with anyone – she needed to focus; however Dylan Michaels was persistent and romantic and wouldn’t take no for an answer. She liked him, a lot, and after a few months thought she loved him and that he felt the same, but after final exams he broke off their six month relationship. He told she didn’t have enough time for him and that he had met someone in his Spanish class. At this moment he’s with her on their planned vacation to Martha’s Vineyard.

Sighing softly that last recollected thought hurt, not as much as a week ago, but still her feelings and ego are a little raw. The town car turns onto the long narrow two lane road which leads to her parent’s mansion tucked away two miles from the main highway on forty aches and she can’t help, but feel a lonely ache. Her parents always made a point of being home to welcome her, so they had scheduled their spring trip to Italy around the date of her arrival. With her vacation cancelled she will have to come home to an empty house. She tells herself its better this way and by the time her parents are home she’ll have left the sadness behind.

The tree line breaks up and Hamilton Manor comes into view and the car rolls into the oval driveway circling around the large fountain in the center and stopping in front of the stairs leading up to the main door. Home, at last, she can’t wait to draw a hot bath, hopefully dig up something to eat and curl up with a movie. Stepping out of the car the driver, Carl, is already unloading her suitcases so she leaves him to bring her bags to the door. Walking up the steps she unlocks the house, leaving the ride side of the door wide open as she steps to the left wall and enters the code to shut off the alarm. Stepping to the table in the center of the entryway and sets her purse down fishing out her wallet to pull out money for a tip. Turning around she can see Carl shadow the door then step over the threshold to set her bags inside.

“Thank you, Carl.” She says with a smile and steps forward to hand him a hundred dollar bill.

“Thank you, miss. Have a good afternoon.” Carl says with a nod as he takes the money from her hand and leaves.

Closing the door and turning the lock she hears her phone chime announcing a text message stepping back to the table she picks up her phone and slides her thumb across the screen.

“I’m by the pool.”

Odd message, the number is international and not one she recognized perhaps it’s a mistake, a text sent to the wrong phone. The phone chimes again and she looks at the next text.

“I’m waiting.”

Rebecca sets the phone aside not thinking anything of the text and grabs her two suitcases; stopping first at the laundry room to leave behind the one filled with dirty clothes and then drags the other one up two flights of stairs to her bedroom suite. Leaning her hand on the door handle she swings open the door to her room which is exactly how she left it back in August. Pulling the suitcase to her bed she bends down to grab the case with two hands, lifts with a groan before dropping it on the bed. Opening up the suitcase she picks up the toiletry bag and hears the phone chime echo downstairs. This person needs to figure out they have the wrong number, she thinks and walks into her bathroom.

Meanwhile a curly haired petite blonde dress in a pink sundress and pair of oversized tortoise shell sunglasses is sitting by the pool with her phone in hand and looking at the house expectantly. What is taking that bitch so long? She sends a third and fourth text, but nothing happens. Finally getting up she goes into the house and wanders to the front door only to find Rebecca’s phone sitting on the table. Thirty seconds later she’s shadowing the doorway of her friend’s bedroom just as Rebecca steps out of the bathroom. “There you are!”

The startled scream that follows is heard through the house. “Gwen! Oh my god….you scared me…what are you doing here?”

“Is that any way to treat your best friend?” Gwendolyn laughs and holds up her phone, “I tried to tell you I was here!”

“I didn’t recognize the number; did you get a new one?”

“Yeah, didn’t I give it to you? I needed an international number for business and forgot my other phone at my apartment in France… sorry.” She grins and walks straight up to her friend pulling her into a hug.

“After I got your email telling me how that asshole Dylan broke up with you and how your parents are still in Italy I couldn’t possibly let you come home to an empty house. So, I called your folks and hopped on a plane. I’m on the redeye tomorrow night, but it gives us enough time to have a welcome home party, which I’ve already planned. You have three hours till the caterers arrive.”

Rebecca returns the hug, happy to see her friend, but then frowns at the idea of Gwen and one of her parties; stepping away so she can to continue to unpack, “Do my parents know about this party?”

“Of course not,” she smiles and lies across the bed looking at her friend, “but I’ve grown up since our high school days… this won’t be some amateur kegger. Remember Randal Jones from high school? Well, he has his own catering business and hired him to provide the food. Stella and Jacob Mackenzie put me in touch with a cleaning company they use for their benefits, so you won’t have to lift a finger or worry about cleaning with the hangover you’ll have tomorrow. We’ll keep the main house closed off and open the pool house…. It’ll be contained, I promise.”

Rebecca listens as she hangs up a few pairs of jeans in the closet and has to admit the evening sounds well planned, but does she feel like socializing? Leaning against the doorway of the closet she stares at her friend, “How many people did you invite?”

“Twenty… maybe fifty people?” Gwendolyn sits up on the bed and smiles, “Nothing crazy or out of control.”

“Do we even still know that many people?” Rebecca laughs knowing that Gwendolyn Bennett does still know that many people locally, if not more. She was the social queen of their high school and continued to be in her adult life. She may be a bit of a party girl, but she runs her own successful clothing line following in the footsteps of her mother. The Bennett’s always know how to throw a party or plan an event. How they ever became and remained friends is one of life’s great mysteries as no two best friends were more opposite. Perhaps it was Rebecca’s grounded and bookworm nature that helped keep Gwen balanced.

“Oh and guess who is in town and agreed to come to our little shindig?”

“I have no idea… “

“Ethan Wilcox.” Gwendolyn pauses, but when Rebecca doesn’t say anything she continues, “I ran into him when I first got into town, he’s home on leave, he joined the Air Force you know? Anyway, he only has another day or two here, so I mentioned the party I was planning for you and he agreed to come.”

“Why should I care if Ethan Wilcox comes to the party?” She asks while zipping up the now empty suitcase.

“Because you have had a crush on him since the fifth grade.”

“Had is the operative word. “

“Whatever you say, Rebecca.” Gwen rolls her eyes and jumps to her feet, “You relax and get yourself ready…I have a party to put together.”

Rebecca laughs leaving Gwendolyn to do what she does best knowing it would be pointless to argue. Once that woman had her mind set there was no changing it and she was right about Ethan, she still harbored a bit of a crush on him. Though the only reason he had noticed her at all in high school was because of her friendship with Gwen, who was also the object of his affection, but she never gave him the time of day knowing how her best friend felt about him.

Five hours later …..

The backyard is filled with people, at least a hundred, it seems Gwen’s invite spread like wildfire bringing those who graduated a couple of years after them to the party. In truth Rebecca expected as much and didn’t mind; the more people here the easier it was to blend into the crowd. Those who knew her greeted her and others merely smiled at her knowing they know her, but couldn’t recall her name. Her friend also kept her promise by keeping everyone out of the main house and confining them to the outside area or pool house. Gwen popped by every so often to make sure she didn’t slip away to the quiet of her room.

Standing on the sparsely populated patio which overlooks the expanse of the backyard and pool area Rebecca sips a glass of white wine. The area looked fabulous with paper lanterns and high top tables covered by dark purple table cloths with flickering candle centerpieces. Waiters and waitresses carrying trays of hors d’oeuvres and finger sized desserts weave through the crowd of people dancing or bobbing to the music pumping through the speakers.

“This party is definitely a step up from our high school days.”

Rebecca startles at the unexpected deep male voice and turns around nearly spilling her wine on the light green summer dress. The voice, the smooth masculine voice belongs to the ever handsome Ethan Wilcox a tall man with light brown hair, blue-gray eyes and square jaw line; he’d been the source of many girlhood daydreams. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine…“ Rebecca says softly and looking off to the side thinking Gwen probably sent him. “I was taking a break from the crowd… “

“Yeah, you never did do well in crowds.” He chuckles and lifts the beer in his hand to take a sip. “Mind if I share your quiet spot?”

“Not at all…” Rebecca nervously takes a rather long sip from the glass and looks back out to the crowd. “Gwen tells me you joined the Air Force and are here on leave?”

“Yeah…that’s right. My sister Jennifer had a baby a few months ago, a little boy named Joshua and since I haven’t been home in a little more than a year…figured a visit was due.”

“Congratulations on becoming an uncle.” She says raising her glass, but not looking at him and feeling as nervous as she did back in high school, not to mention awkward.

“Thanks. What have you been up to? I haven’t seen you since high school.”

“I attend Brown; I’m studying archeology and European literature. I’m on the Lacrosse team.”

“Archeology… so like Indiana Jones stuff, huh?”

Rebecca laughs, “Yes, only without the large rolling boulder and poison darts flying at your head.”

“What do you plan to do with a degree like that?” He asks tuning towards her.

“Travel, hopefully find a place on a team to join a dig, maybe teach… or work in a museum as a curator.”

“Sounds interesting…”

“I like it.”

Then there was silence and Rebecca wishes she had Gwen’s talent for conversation. Staring into her glass of wine she scolds herself; say something or he’s just going to leave! Then the other voice in her head pipes up, or maybe he wants to leave and only came by to be polite or because Gwen told him to say hi.

“Why the Air Force?”

“Family tradition, all Wilcox men have a military background before the Air Force was established we were Army men. Now we’re split between the two branches. I chose the Air Force because I love to fly; I’ve had my pilot’s license since I was seventeen.”

“I had no idea, so what are your plans afterwards?”

Ethan rolls his shoulders in a shrug, “I’m undecided at the moment… I’m considering going career. I enjoy the life, but my dad is pressuring me to go to college, get my law degree and join the family firm. I think I may be the first one in our family resistant to the family plan. And if I’m not then I’m the first to be vocal on the matter.”

“Eventually there is always a rebel.” She smiles, “My parents aren’t thrilled with my choice of career, which they feel isn’t a real career and that I’ll spend most of my time buried in books, covered in dust or simply unemployed. What it really boils down to is they want to see me married with a stable career and to one day give them a grandchild or two. It’s a simple enough life, but not the one I want, at least not any time soon.”

From there the conversation flowed easily between them and they spent the rest of the night talking and sharing stories and what they hope to find in life. They shared a common love of music, the outdoors and the History and Discovery Channel. He was funny. And after a while she wasn’t so shy around him. Gwen passed by a few times to check up on her and smiled a little wider each time causing Rebecca to shoot her a dirty look. The night stretched into the early morning hours and the crowd thinned till there was only them and a drunk Gwen being held up by Noah Reed the two had been high school sweethearts and remained casual lovers; seeing each other whenever she came to town.

“Why don’t the two of you stay in the pool house?” She tells Noah knowing he’s not much better off.

“Thanks, Becca. See you around, Wilcox.” Noah hefts a passing out Gwen over his shoulder, “Say good night Gwen.”

Gwen giggles and hits Noah on the back, “Put me down. I need to hug my friend.”

Noah complies and Gwen stumbles forward and practically tackles Rebecca in a hug, “I love you Becca… and I told you you’d have fun …tonight..”

The bleary eyed blonde looks up at Ethan, “And you… it’s about time you realized how wonderful my friend is… she really likes you, so be nice.”

“Gwen!” Rebecca looks at her friend and feels the hot rush of embarrassment on her face. “Go to sleep… I’ll see you in the morning.”

Noah laughs and picks up Gwen once again to drag her off to the pool house. Feeling utterly mortified she can’t look at Ethan and finishes off the last of the wine in her glass feeling a little on the drunk side herself and sets it on the table.

“Don’t mind Gwen… she’s drunk...“ She comments lightly.

“But she was telling the truth…” His hand moved to brush lightly against her hand.

“Maybe...”

Rebecca turns her head to look up at Ethan to find him smiling and moving in closer his hand taking hold of hers he leans in till their lips are only an inch away and pauses. Her heart pounds fiercely in her chest and she hesitates for a moment hoping that this isn’t merely a drunk moment. Closing the distance between their lips she kisses him, he kisses her, they kiss. Before she knows it she’s straddling his waist on a lounge chair with her hands up his shirt and his hands up the skirt of her dress. The timid part of her gone she invites him to stay and leads him up to her bedroom. Their clothes fall into a puddle on the floor before he picks her up, holding her by the hips and then falling back on the bed with her on top of him. The rest of the night becomes a pleasure filled blur till she finally falls contently asleep at his side.

Hours later she wakes up, alone, the sun shining in her face and a note is lying on the pillow next to her. Reaching for the paper she looks at it for several seconds before the words begin to make sense.

Rebecca,
You were sleeping so peacefully I didn’t want to wake you. I had to leave early to meet my family for brunch. I will call you later. I want to see you again before I leave.

Ethan

She smiles then groans as her head pounds making her stomach twist sickly with the promise of emptying its contents. She hadn’t had that much to drink, did she? Yes, she did, but not enough not to remember what happened between her and Ethan. The thought they’d only see each other one more time seems unfair, but it was worth it, she wouldn’t have done anything different. Lying quietly she tries to find a comfortable position for her head so that the pounding will stop, but it didn't matter the nausea continued until her stomach tightens and constricts telling her she’s about to throw up. Pushing up quickly from the bed she makes it just in time for the bathroom.

Several minutes later she is rinsing her mouth and washing her face curious how Gwen is fairing. Slow steps her bring back into the bedroom and to the nightstand to retrieve her phone. Two text messages. The first one is from Ethan:

Morning beautiful, hope you’re not too hungover. Be sure to drink plenty of water and get some rest. –E

The second one is from Gwen:

Sorry Becs, Noah has stolen my hungover ass. You can thank me later and tell me everything about what happened with Ethan. <3

Rebecca smiles at both messages and feels the strain against her dry lips….water. Fishing a t-shirt out of the dresser and a pair of pj shorts she heads downstairs even though she’d like to ignore the parch feeling in her mouth and throat. Dragging her feet against the cool tile floor she stumbles into the kitchen to grab a water bottle from the fridge. Just as she closes the door the phone rings, a sound she wasn’t expecting and nearly frightened her enough to drop the water bottle. Pressing the cold bottle against her temple she steps to the phone and answers.

“Hello?” She says softly trying not to sound terrible.

“Rebecca, are you all right?” Ask the woman on the other line.

“Yes, mom… I’m fine.”

“You sound terrible.”

“Late night.”

“I hope the house is in one piece when we get home.”

“Mom, I’m not in high school anymore…everything is fine I promise. How’s Italy?”

“The same as always…. I’m really sorry we’re not at home for you right now.”

“Don’t worry about me..I’m fine..Gwen was here to greet me. We had a quiet evening and I think we’ll have dinner before she flies back to France. You and Dad enjoy your vacation and I’ll see you two weeks.”

“Okay…but if you, for any reason need us to come home early you give us a call.”

“I will. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

With that she hangs up the phone and leaves the kitchen to go back to bed and hopefully sleep off this awful headache.

He was a middle aged handsome young man, though his features were rough, his evil grin never left his lips, he was still quite a sight, with strong broad shoulders, muscular arms and chest, he even had six pack abs to complete his tough looks.

Most of the ladies would consider him very attractive, the type of the 'badboy' that gets their juices flowing. His eyes, cold and deep, made women weak in the knees. Of course they would be more cold in the knees as they figured he is a psychopath, and not just that, he happened to be a serial killer, but not of the boring type, he only killed women by mistake as a result of too rough sexual abuse or torture, a few of his victims were lucky enough to make it out alive after his rough treatment to them.

He had let his guard down one day and got caught. He was trialed and was charged with rape, torture and murder, and of course the charges did stick and he was sentenced for life in a high-security prison. That wasn’t all, he was subjected to inhumane experiments during his stay in that prison, some mad doctor somehow managed to get clearance to do whatever he wanted to those sentenced to death, and he unleashed his inner demons and did all the experiments he always dreamt off. Most of his ‘patients’ died horrible deaths after some experiments, but James was one of the toughest prisoners and thus managed to live through the horrific experiments, and had one hell of a tale to tell.

One day he woke up, strapped to a bed as always, but something felt off. He could feel strength pouring through his veins, his muscles felt even stronger than before, and he had a stronger urge to kill than usual. It all happened very fast, four tentacles shot out of his shoulders and broke the steel restraints that held his wrists and ankles to the four sides of the sturdy bed. He jumped out of bed in a mixture of fear and excitement. He was free of the restraints and had gained some neat powers due to the experiments, but was he still human? He knew he didn’t act human, but now he didn’t even look human anymore. He rushed to the bathroom and looked at his reflection and he definitely looked human, and a good-looking one at that. The tentacles had already gone back inside his body and he had no idea how to call them out again.

James heard some noise and people rushed into the room and started looking around for him, but they couldn’t see him. He was amazed and he looked back into the mirror and to his great shock, there was no reflection. He swallowed hard and looked at his hand, and he could see it, but somehow it made no reflection, and from the reaction of the men outside and the doctor, they couldn’t see him either.

“Bring infra-red goggles, it seems he learned how to turn invisible at will” The mad scientist said to the men as they stormed out fast to get the goggles while the doctor stayed behind with obvious signs of worry on his face.

James grinned and he could feel the tentacles draw out of his body again. He fired the tentacles at the unsuspecting doctor and tore him apart very slowly while making sure to keep him gagged. He had to cut his fun short as the guards came back with goggles, but he was faster than them and managed to kill all five of them before they could fire a single shot.

Looking at his arms and legs, James was amazed, even without tentacles and invisibility; he could see he was much faster and stronger. He had no idea what the mad scientist did to him, but this could turn out well for him. He decided he have had enough of this place and decided to storm out. He stood out in front of the mirror again and tried to focus and master the way to turn invisible at will, and it came to him quickly, and in a matter of seconds he could turn invisible and then visible at will. “Alright, the tentacles and whatever else that man gifted me with will have to wait, it’s time to get out of this shithole.”

With those thoughts, James turned invisible and started to sneak outside making sure to not go into the line of sight of anyone wearing goggles “Damn, security is sure tight. I can’t get out at this rate, even while invisible.”

He broke a few necks on his way to the control room where he killed the three guards there and unlocked all the cells and doors in the prison, turning off the alarms as well “Let’s hope those idiots last long enough to allow me to escape.”

He had managed to make his way out of jail, killing more guards as he made a run for it. He knew they would be after him, they would be insane to let him go after murdering more than three dozen women, raping another five who managed to get out alive and then dozens more on his way to what he hopes wouldn't be a short-lived freedom. Not to mention the most important fact that he was ignorant of, he was the only prisoner on which the experiments were successful. He didn’t care about anything; he was just hungry for young pussy to sample, for young flesh to torture, and for a delicate innocent girl to torment into despair.

His running had gotten him into a rural area, in the distance he saw a huge house with strong lights and loud music could be heard.... He knew it would be a party and decided to sneak in the vicinity of the house and watch. A party meant young girls, and young girls meant fun for him. He sneaked in; his skills were intact after the three years he spent in prison. Dressed in all black and moving like a leopard, too quiet and too cautious as he looks through one of the windows seeing four girls and two guys. He frowns as he didn't want to fight six people, more if there were others he couldn’t see yet. He turned invisible and entered the house. He had no idea how long he can remain invisible as every moment while invisible was more tiring than walking normally, so he wanted to rely on his skills and resort to invisibility only when its needed or when he figures out how to use it without draining his stamina.

Bored out of his mind and his manhood hard in his pants as he watched and heard the scantily clad females, he decided to move away and wait for the party to end, and he could grab one of the girls on her way home or assault the house if two people or one person stayed home. His hunger for a girl didn't completely take his mind off his hunger for food as his stomach growled, not having a single crumb of bread since the escape over twenty hours earlier, even a few hours earlier since lunch, he was basically starving, even more as he saw them sampling all kinds of food and throwing some away, he was drooling and wanted to enter at that moment to smack them around for throwing food away like that, but he restrained himself, despite his strength, fighting a lot of people will not end in his win. He knew he could overpower any man one on one, but not a few dozen people like he was seeing. He had no idea how much power he got, and more importantly didn’t want to draw attention. If he killed dozens here, police would surely follow, so he would rather wait till the party was over.

He cloaked and wandered around, listening and trying to figure out who’s the host, finally he found his prey, Rebecca. She was a lovely girl and he began to drool immediately. He listened to her as she talked to that tall fella Ethan “Get lost boy, I want your girl” He thought to himself as he resisted smacking the guy.

He continued to watch in silence, and looking at Rebecca he could hear her thoughts “What the hell? I can read minds now as well? Cool, I hope there are more powers” He listened to her thoughts clearly saying she liked the guy “Oh tell him you like him already bitch, maybe he’ll take you inside and you’ll tell everyone to go home so my fun can start.”

He waited and waited until people started to leave, only four people were left. That still was more than he wanted, the least people, the least attention it would draw to kill them. He then followed Ethan and Rebecca as they went to her room “Man this house is huge. They are ridiculously rich” He thought as he watched Ethan make love to the girl and decided to wait till the morning, and if that bastard didn’t leave he would kill him and take the girl.

As shrewd as he was, home invasion was one of his strongest skills. He knew how to walk in and then out undetected. He explored the huge house, almost a palace in its size and the luxuries inside. He wasn’t cloaked anymore, and just walked around to see if anyone stayed behind.

His hearing and his eye sight were out of this world as he kept his senses ready. When he made sure the house was empty, save for the four people including the girl who is soon to be a damsel in distress. Morning came quickly, and all the girl’s guests have left and it was time to move, he found the control panel for security and hacked it, overriding it and taking control, he locked all the doors, even the girl's keys won't be effective now after this security override. The only thing that remains was her cell phone and the land-line, but he wasn’t planning to give her a chance to use them as she wished, he just wanted them running so that people can call her, but under his threats she would be forced to come up with some excuses.

He watched the girl come downstairs to answer her phone and then grinned as he thought the real party will start now. He moved around the second floor finding a vase. He threw it down the stairs and hid in a dark room, in a place she won't bother to look. As a psycho, part of the fun was scaring the victim to death before showing himself, and he was planning exactly that, to torment her mentally before he torments her physically. He just waited in the darkness knowing he most probably won't be detected.

Day One

Crossing the large front entry way to the stairs she drinks from the water bottle hoping the meds will make quick work of the splitting headache. The tiled floor is cool under her feet and a thought of sprawling out to lay head on the tile is appealing. Rebecca has to admit the party last night helped the place feel alive and now with everyone gone it felt soulless, an empty shell. Ever since she was young she hated to home alone there is too much space. Twenty-six rooms half of them rarely used, two cottages on the forty acres of land, the pool house, the pool and the indoor pool not to mention the horse stables, archery and firing range. Her family use to host Polo matches when she was growing up; her father had been an excellent player.

Setting her hand on the banister she takes to the first step when a vase comes rolling down the stairs and shatters into hundreds of pieces as it hits the tile floor. A high pitch scream leaves her lips and the water bottle slips from her fingers as she steps backwards. “What the fuck?”

With the sound of her heart pounding in her ears she looks up to the top of the stairs for the culprit, but no one is there. “Who’s there?”

Someone from last night must have found their way into one of the rooms and passed out and now they’re playing a practical joke, but did it have to be with one of her mother’s expensive vases? She recognizes it as the gift from great-grandmother Gertrude, a favorite and a family heirloom. Her breaths unsteady she eyes the mess and the water pulsing from the bottle puddles on the floor. “Shit.”

When she finds this prankster she’s going to kill them. Bending down she picks up the water bottle and winces as her head throbs three sizes too big. Yes, she is going to kill them, but first she needs to clean up this mess. “Whoever you are you just destroyed a family heirloom. Your little prank is going to cost you.”

Walking back into the kitchen she sets the water bottle on the counter and looks at the phone, perhaps she should call the sheriff in case the person who stayed behind isn’t someone she knows. Looking over her shoulder at the kitchen door she wonders if she could have an intruder in the house, but what are the chances? The house is tucked away two miles from the highway even without keeping an eye on everyone attending last night the chances some psycho slipped in is a stretch. That’s the kind of thing horror movies are made of. Opening the pantry where the cleaning supplies are stored she grabs a broom, dust pan and roll of paper towels.

Shock and fear have now melted away into annoyance as she returns to the mess. Tucking the dustpan under her arm she leans the broom handle against her shoulder and unrolls several sheets of paper towels to place over the puddle of water. Leaving the towels to soak up the water she begins to sweep up the pieces mindful of where she steps to keep a shard from piercing a bare foot. Raising her voice as she creates a pile of the broken vase, “You can quit hiding. I know this vase didn’t throw itself down the stairs.”

Silence, eerie and unsettling. Bending over she sweeps the pile into the dustpan and leaves it there along with the water soaked paper towels. Taking to the stairs she pauses as she steps onto the second floor, broom still in hand, her room is to the left and her parent’s apartment sized bedroom is to the right. It occurs to her she should have a phone ready to call for help if this intruder does happen to be threatening. In fact, why is she looking for him alone? She needs to go back downstairs call the sheriff and wait outside.

Turning around she hops back down the stairs headache nearly forgotten or the meds are finally working and reenters the kitchen. Leaning the broom against the counter’s edge she reaches for the phone and leaves to walk to the front door. Resting her hand on the doorknob she turns and finds it locked, but she hadn’t set the alarm last night and neither of her friends set it off this morning. The security system is wired to the doors locks and depending on which code was used one could secure the house and move around or set the silent alarm to go off if the motion detectors are tripped. The later was typically used when they left the house. The codes are privileged information, only Gwen knows them, perhaps she set the alarm when she left thinking she was being cute. Stepping to the keypad Rebecca punches in the code to disarm, but nothing happens. Odd. She tries again still nothing; she tries an arming code, nothing. The alarm appears to be functioning, but not responding to any commands. A jolt of instinctual fear runs cold through her veins and she looks down at the receiver in her trembling hand.

Pressing the talk button she hits the speed dial for the alarm company while walking to the back door to give it a try. No need to panic it’s merely a malfunction; an ill timed malfunction. Pressing the phone to her ear she listens to the line ring while she gives the French doors leading to the backyard a try, locked. The call clicks over and a message that all operators are busy places her on hold. Great. Pressing her back against the door she waits for the next available representative and keeps the stairway in view.

“What the fuck?” Those were the first words that poor little Rebecca had said as the vase came crashing down the stairs causing a triple mess; a mess of broken glass on the tiles, a mess of a water puddle on the expensive carpets and most importantly a mess in her brain.

“Who’s there?”, “Shit.”, “Whoever you are you just destroyed a family heirloom. Your little prank is going to cost you.”

"Oh I hardly think it's going to cost me anything little one." James thought as he was listening to the young beauty express her fear and frustration in many forms as he watched her move her exhausted body around the house trying to clean the mess he caused.

“You can quit hiding. I know this vase didn’t throw itself down the stairs.” His lips curved in a wicked grin as he heard her remark and thought "It definitely didn't throw itself down the stairs, but after you see what I am capable off you'll start to think an overpriced vase throwing itself down the stairs is more than possible."

She looked gorgeous dressed in a simple T-shirt and PJ shorts. She was showing plenty of creamy skin. Her lean slender legs and dainty feet were among the most delicious sights that his eyes were feasting upon without her knowledge.

James licked his lips as he watched. This was the first time he had the distinct pleasure of being alone with a young and beautiful girl in over three years and his hunger was peeking. He didn't know if he will be able to fuck with her mind much longer, but he decided to wait and torment her some more, fucking with her mind in all possible ways to drive her insane before he would show himself to her and start physical torture in addition to the currently ongoing emotional one.

He was having way more fun than anyone could guess, this psychological torture he was doing and going to continue with her was only starting, and to him it was probably more fun than raping her…. He raised his eyebrow at that thought, chuckled in a barely audible sound, and thought to himself as he rolled his eyes “aaah no, its not THAT fun, nothing is more fun than raping a lovely little girl, but scaring her half to death is a close second”.

With those thoughts he decided that the course of action would be more sneaking around and scaring her pants off, maybe even literally before making his glorious appearance after all 'All the world is a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances'.

James laughed to himself as he thought Rebecca was definitely getting ripped off by whoever wrote this play that she was living. He shook his head at that thought "Oh what the hell? Which play? Am I losing my mind?" He shook his head again, shaking those thoughts out of his head as he focused on the task at hand.

It seemed the 'experiments' of that mad scientist had done some damage in addition to adding powers and enhancements. He had never read Shakespeare or cared for that and he never heard that quote before. It seems he was imprinted with some mental images in addition to whatever other things he has yet to realize.

He forced his mind back to focus and he continued to watch as Rebecca started to climb up the stairs and he nodded in surprise amazed at her courage or maybe this was more like stupidity than courage.

He cloaked and de-cloaked at will, reading her mind and cloaking the moment she would think of looking into his direction. This was to save stamina. Of course, he was moving silently, but with the huge and totally empty house, any sound carried, and he knew he wasn't being as silent as he should be, he wanted her to hear some moving, but not see who was causing the sounds of those footsteps. He also knew everyone felt uncomfortable when there were eyes fixed on them, she should probably be feeling that by now.

James smirked as she stopped halfway to her room and turned on her heels almost running down the stairs as she realized her stupid mistake of trying to look for the intruder on her own. He continued to watch as she took the phone and went to the main entrance, and as she was desperately trying to reason with the machine that had submitted to his will, he was standing over her cellphone, a sinister grin danced across his lips and his eyes lit up in sick pleasure. Rather than taking her phone, he silently opened the cover, slipped the SIM card out and put it back down as if nothing had happened, only it was no longer a useful means of communication anymore.

At that point, Rebecca was getting really scared, it showed on her movements, her expression and the terrified thoughts pouring out of her mind and into his. He was basking in those terrified thoughts and feeding on her slowly-building desperation.

He watched as she moved to one of the other entrances as she was dialing some number. Whatever that number was, she wasn't going to reach them. He thought to himself even if she did call the police and managed to reach them, he would molest her, rape her, and kill her then get the hell out before any annoying do-gooders boys in blue arrive on the scene. The house was simply that far from the city. Of course being rich and having multiple sports and luxury cars under their disposal, her family didn’t care whether they were far away from civilization or not.

This would be a blessing usually, to be away from noise and pollution, but in poor little Rebecca's case, it will be one hell of a curse.

As she was dialing the number, he moved to the phone and slipped the plug from it's socket, killing the line.

To draw her attention away from the phone and into something else, he rushed to the huge screen in the living room, turned on the TV and raised the volume on the TV to a very high level to attract her attention to another lifeless being acting on its own.

He had locked all the doors and windows when he had overridden the security system in the mansion, making any attempt at escaping an impossibility. That was another thing that would usually be a blessing under normal circumstances ended up being a curse on poor Rebecca trapping her in her own house with a sadistic psycho with a knack for tormenting little girls as her only company in the huge mansion.

"Let the fun begin!!!" He announced in his deep masculine voice, knowing she wouldn't be able to hear it with the expensive surround system booming in her ears threatening to shatter the windows. He stood at the entrance of the living room, cloaked and put his leg in the doorway so she would hit it and trip the moment she would enter the room. He maintained a nasty smile on his handsome features while his eyes gave a wicked glint that they didn't enjoy for years.

Day One

Rebecca stands with her back to the French doors; phone pressed to her ear as she waits for the next available representative while keeping the stairs in view. There is no one there, but she feels as if she’s not alone as if she’s being watched, toyed with; it makes her skin crawl. There are noises, shuffling, but she can’t figure out a source. It’s as if the house has become suddenly haunted. The recording on the line is in mid-speech when suddenly the line goes silent. A sick twist of fear turns her stomach as she pulls the receiver away from her ear and looks at it; the red light on the talk button is dark. Her hand trembles as she presses the talk button several times in vain. “Come on.”

Looking up she stares at the stairway, her thumb still pressing against the talk button as she takes two steps forward looking around the area and to the kitchen doorway for a sign of someone, something, but there’s nothing. She’s alone, no she’s not, she can sense – can feel another.

“Hello?” Her voice quivers and cracks as she tries to yell.

Silence.

“If you wanted to scare me you’ve succeeded and can stop now.”

Rebecca stands in the middle of the room listening, waiting for any sign of this mysterious intruder. Still there is no one. The only sound is of her heart pounding and her short, rapid breaths. She’s about to chance running upstairs to retrieve her mobile phone when there is a loud boom from the television in the living room. Her frightened scream near matches the sound level and tears instantly prick her eyes as the phone clatters to the tile floor. How? Who? Paralyzed with fear she trembles and stares at the doorway leading to the living room. Rapidly blinking to clear her vision she looks over her shoulder to the front door then to the back door there’s no way out; she’ll need to break the window. The television grows louder. What is she running from? She’s never saw anyone; no one was that fast. There has to be something the wrong with the house wiring perhaps the short in the alarm system affected the phone and in turn created a power surge that forced the television on. It might not explain the vase, the noises or the creepy feelings, but there must be a logical answer.

Tentative steps forward she forces herself to walk in the direction of the living room, heart pounding with each step she sucks in a deep breath and with only a few steps left to go she rushes forward to meet the unknown. The moment she crosses the threshold her right foot catches on the invisible leg throwing her off balance; the palms of her hands hit the carpet first, breaking the initial force of the fall but the momentum jars her body as elbows, chest and knees scrape against the soft fibers, which scratch and burn the tender thin skin leaving minor abrasions.

Rebecca can barely think through the pain and the increased noise of the television pumping through the sound system. For several seconds she lays sprawled on the floor unsure of how she fell; had she tripped over her own two feet? Each part of her body that made contact with the floor throbs as she pushes up then turns to sit on the carpet staring at the empty doorway. She hadn’t heard the voice of the intruder, of her tormentor. The young woman is fully afraid and shakily stands to her feet, wincing as she straightens. It doesn’t matter that she can’t see anyone she knows someone is here. Carefully she steps around the couch watching each step till she reaches coffee table and bends down for the remote. Turning down the volume she stares at the screen, a news clip is playing; it’s a warning of an escaped prisoner from the mental institution more than twenty miles away. The news reporter speaks of leaked photo stills of the violent escape and warns some images may be disturbing. Eyes glued to the screen, trembling hands grip the remote tighter and her lower lip quivers as she tries to hold back the tears blurring her vision.

Could it be? No, impossible. He escaped on foot and there’s no report of him stealing a car, but what if he had? What if he blended into the party? What if…? Shaking her head she leaves the television on and sets down the remote. She needs to get to her mobile phone and call the sheriff. Looking around the room eyes land on the fireplace and the tools sitting on the marble slab stepping forward she picks up the wrought iron poker; weighing the item in her hand before gripping it tight and slicing the air upward then down.

It doesn’t matter how silly she looks or feels swinging the poker through the air like it’s sword as she reaches the living room doorway. It doesn’t matter that she probably tripped over her own feet in fear. It also doesn’t matter that there is likely some crazy wire malfunction causing the alarm to lock the windows and doors, kill the phone line and turn on the television at random. For all she knows a rat or other vermin got into the walls and chewed a wire causing havoc. The noises, the feeling of being watched are merely her fear and imagination trying to get the best of her. The only thing she can’t explain away is the vase, but there has to be a reason. Even if there is someone else in the house it could simply be a party guest playing out an elaborate and unfunny prank. Especially when you consider the chances that this escaped psycho had found his way to her home?

Her steps are swift once out of the living room taking to the stairs two at a time with the poker held ready to strike. Reaching the top of the stairs she pauses looking from side to side then quickly runs to her room closing the door and turning the lock. Still gripping the poker tight she reaches for the phone on her dresser and presses the button to light up the screen, nothing. Pressing again she holds the button down longer and the phone springs to life from shutdown mode. Why was her phone off? Had the battery been that low? Looking up she scans the room and holds the poker up as she carefully searches first the closet and then the bathroom. She’s alone.

Looking to the phone in her hand she frowns, why is there no connection? A strange, sinking feeling brings a new wave of fear. What if she’s truly not alone? Sitting on the bed she sets the poker aside and struggles to open the back of the phone. When the back slides off she stares at the empty spot where the SIM card used to be.

“No.” She whispers softly and lifts her gaze to stare at the bedroom door. Please let this be a prank, please let this be a prank.

James' features contorted and he almost shied away at the sight of the poor young girl tripping and meeting the carpets headfirst "awwww, that must have hurt." He barely managed to keep a chuckle buried in his throat at the sight. Watching someone fall was always funny for him. More funny if he was the one causing the fall. Pushing people around and hurting them had always been highly amusing for him, but in this case, it was taking a whole other level. Toying with this helpless young girl was far beyond anything he had done before.

He looked down at his leg and then down at her delicate foot. The soft skin of her toes had bumped into his rough prison outfit and he liked it, he wanted more of that, he wanted to touch her soft skin, to lick and taste every inch of her tender young body. He clenched and unclenched his fists in an effort to get his desire under control. It was raging within him, an unstoppable need to molest and rape this young woman, to take her, to mark her, to use her for his pleasure.

Closing his eyes, James finally managed to get himself under control, deciding she was trapped with him and there was absolutely nothing she can do about it, even if she somehow managed to call someone, he can easily knock her unconscious and carry her out to some hiding spot and do whatever he wanted with her. She was, for all intents and purposes, screwed.

James looked at her as she stayed on the floor, reading her thoughts of how she fell, and whether she clumsily tripped on her own two little feet, he again had to resist the urge to laugh.

Silently, he watched as she struggled to get back on her feet and reached for the remote controller. He looked at the TV and his eyebrows rose as his picture was shown on the TV alongside the story describing his bloody escape. He adjusted his shirt and grinned "Boy, I do look good on TV. Oh let's face it, I just look good period." A smug expression founds its way onto his features as he thought about his good looks.

Her thoughts found their way into his head once more and a sinister grin danced on his lips as the realization hit her that she could very well be playing host to a deranged escaped convict in her house. One who has been tormenting her and toying with her emotions for the past hour or so.

James' eyes opened wide as he watched the young girl reaching for the iron poker by the fireplace. His mouth hung open as he watched her practice how to swing that thing as if it were a sword. He shook his head at her ridiculous attempt to protect herself. "Honey you can't do damage to a cat with that thing, how are you imagining you can hurt a tiger with it? And an invisible one at that?"

He continued to quietly watch her and read her thoughts as she left the room with her 'weapon' in hand at the ready to strike down any intruders to her peaceful vacation. "a freakin' rat? That's what you think is causing you all those problems? Yeah maybe that same rat knocked off the vase. Very convincing my dear, keep up the positive outlook on life."

He thought as he continued to move after her as she climbed up the stairs, clearly not trying to limit the sounds he makes, only keeping himself invisible to the naked eye. "Naked?" He thought to himself and licked his lips "I have to get her naked, and soon."

Rebecca was climbing the stairs fast and clearly she was thinking about getting in her room and holding up inside. "Like hell I would let you do that little one!!!" He thought as he moved ahead of her and entered the room. He watched as she entered behind him and locked the door "Bad idea my dear, you don't lock yourself in with a predator, that never ends up well for the prey." He thought as he watched her reach for her phone and then search the room, verifying she was indeed alone.

The phone was clearly out of order, courtesy of that little SIM card sitting in his pocket rendering the phone to a useless hunk of plastic and overpriced transistors

“No.” Rebecca's soft voice reached James' ears as she realized the gravity of her situation, moments later her thoughts entered his mind "Please let this be a prank, please let this be a prank."

James decided it was time to start some real action and so he moved to the door and knocked on it a few times before turning the lock and pulling the door wide open. Of course Rebecca's eyes were following the door saw no one and nothing outside. However, before she could find a logical explanation to the opening of the door or picking up her weapon of mass destruction again, James was upon her.

His hand wrapped tightly around her neck while the other one pushed the poker far from her reach. He leaned down on her and whispered in her ear, his hot breath washing over her slender neck as he basked in the glory of being in close proximity of her drinking in her soft feminine scent "You are not alone." He spoke right in her ear in his deep masculine voice.

He knew a combination of screams, kicks, punches and whatever violent reactions won't be far behind and to ensure they never come to fruition, his hands hooked under her knees and forcefully pulled up high forcing her to lay down on her bed. His hands then quickly slid up her legs pulling her bare feet high up in the air to the level of his face. His head quickly sunk onto her foot and his lips marked her soft sole in the lightest of kisses followed by another and another, before he tore his lips from the delicate skin of that foot and assaulted the other one with his tongue, lashing at her sensitive sole from heel to toes. He licked his lips and marveled at her sweet taste. Wondering to himself "If her feet tasted this good, I wonder how tasty her breasts and pussy must be."

James held her legs up high, making sure her feet were far from each other forcing her legs wide apart, but sadly she was wearing shorts and thus her panties were barely visible even from that angle.

Suddenly he let go of her feet and his hand grabbed her neck once more in a vice-like grip, stopping the much-needed flow of air to her lungs. Her pulsating veins were throbbing against his rough palm, but it remained locked tight around her slender column in an unforgiving tight grip.

His other hand moved quickly grabbing at her breast through the silky material of her tank top. Clearly she wasn't wearing a bra, and James almost fainted at the feel of her breast, only making him tighten his grip further on her neck. The hand about her throat clenched daringly to restrict the air into her lungs. He was oblivious to whether she was struggling or not, her scent, beautiful features, gorgeous young body, the feel of her tender flesh and the taste of her soft skin were clouding his judgment, not to mention his steel body wouldn't be damaged or feel pain from the tiny fists and feet of a small girl like Rebecca.

His hand quickly moved to her belly and slipped under her tank top, swiftly moving up her belly to cup her right breast from below, he groped and fondled her tender orb of flesh without mercy, squeezing it tight whilst the hand about her throat remained locked, stealing the breath from her lungs and ushering darkness in, fingers biting into the tender flesh of Rebecca's throat as the vein throbbed a heavy pulse that started to thump within her head.

James could see she was slipping out into unconsciousness and his hand moved from her breast to slide under her shorts and panties to scratch her love petals hungrily for a few moments as his lips met her ear once more and his cruel voice invaded the peace in her mind once more "You have such a delicious body pet, we will have so much fun together."

His grip tightened on her slender throat forcing her to take that last step towards unconsciousness as his rough digits invaded her most private skin and stroked it. James released her body and leaned back up licking his lips as he looked at her helpless lifeless body, so small and slight. She was adorable, fortune was most certainly smiling upon him that day as he managed to get out of prison and was lucky enough to snatch a wonderful girl to turn into his sex slave for the foreseeable future.

Not sure what to do, James pulled her top up slowly, exposing her supple breasts to the cool air of the room, her pink nipples looking proudly at the ceiling, almost begging to be tasted and twisted, and who was he to deny them. He sank into her cleavage and locked his lips around one nipple and then the other, but as tasty as they were, he had to stop, it was no fun playing with an unconscious girl, her squirming and struggles, her pained terrified expression and her body's betrayal under his touch were half the fun, so he stopped and pulled the top back in place.

After thinking through the next step, he wrapped his arms around the young girl's small body, picking her up in his strong arms. He walked outside her room and carried her downstairs to the living room and then laid her down on the ground right where she tripped and fell, he arranged her in what he remembered she looked like as she fell. He moved the remote controller back to its place, and even put the poker back near the fireplace, right from where she took it and then he turned the volume on the TV up again.

A sinister grin danced on James' lips as he waited for his toy to wake up. He wanted her to think she lost consciousness when she fell down and what happened in her bedroom was merely a dream, a bad one, a nightmare. To sell that illusion, he ensured everything she touched after falling was back in place. He sat back on one couch and waited for her to be roused by the loud volume of the TV as it boomed into her delicious ears.

Day One: Afternoon

“No.” She whispers softly and lifts her gaze to stare at the bedroom door. Please let this be a prank, please let this be a prank.

What does she do now? The house is locked up tight, the phone line is dead and her mobile is not functioning. She can break a window to leave, take of one of the cars in the garage, but first she needs a change of clothes. The moment she’s about to stand a knock on her bedroom door startles her and she sits back, staring, “Hello?”

There’s no response other than the door unlocking itself and flying open. Rebecca screams, scooting back on the bed and getting ready to dart off to the bathroom when something unseen grips her throat. Wide eyed her scream cracks and there is a rush of hot air against her ear washing over her throat and shoulder, "You are not alone."

The voice is masculine, menacing, terrifying! Tensing against this voice she tries to pull back and move away at the same time, but this invisible grip locks around her legs and forces her to lie on the bed. Though there is no one there she struggles against this invisible attacker screeching with high pitched fright, “No! NO! Let me go!”

Arching her neck she looks for the iron poker finding it now on the other side of the bed. The cool, damp touch of the attacker’s lips on the sole of her foot distracts her for a moment. What the fuck?! She tries to pull her foot away, but his hands are like vice grips. “Please, stop!! Please!”

She cries and arches her back, stretching her arm up over her head attempting to reach the iron poker, fingers struggling to touch the handle, which is an inch out of reach. The wet feel of his tongue tasting her other foot sends sick chills through her body. “Please… no..”

When her legs are suddenly pulled apart a new wave of terror seeps into her voice as she pleads to the unseen man, “Please… stop… please.“

For a split second her body is released, but before she can breathe a sigh of relief the hand is back around her throat, squeezing hard, cutting off the air way. Rebecca tries to scream, her lips open wide but there is only silence. Her hands reach for her throat feeling the outline of a hand, solid and very real just like the solid strong mass of a man standing between her legs. Her nails dig into the invisible skin as she struggles to pull her legs in to kick him or push him away. Her eyes grow wide as his other hand assaults her breast, squeezing and marring the tender flesh. Silent screams, tears gathering in her eyes as she helplessly pulls and scratches at the invisible arm and hand.


The lack of oxygen makes her lungs ache and dims her eyesight, the black creeping in from the sides making him look farther away and slowly she stops struggling to save strength, to keep conscious for a few seconds longer. Tears leaks from the corners of her eyes as she lies helpless feeling the invading hand move from her breasts into her shorts, the tender skin sore from her night with Ethan… Ethan… she will probably never see him again or her parents or friends… all thoughts fade along with consciousness and his whisper in her ear, "You have such a delicious body pet, we will have so much fun together."

------

Rebecca wakes with a burning in her lungs, coughing and struggling for a deep breath only to be met with throbbing throat muscles and a pounding headache, her hand instantly moving to hold her head. The sound of the television hurts her ears as the memory of what happened in her room comes rushing back to the front of her thoughts. Eyes pop open and she crawls forward a few inches on the carpet, looking around as her brow furrows against the throbbing pain in her head. With unsteady breaths confusion shadows her face as she realizes she’s in the living room where she fell. Had she hit her head and knocked herself unconscious? It would explain the headache. Did she only dream about the invisible attacker? Fingers gently probe her throat, it’s tender, but not an uncommon side affect from a traumatic dream, a nightmare. Slowly standing to her feet she stumbles forward, fighting with dizziness and picks up the remote from the coffee table. Turning the sound down she looks to the fireplace to see the iron poker still in its place. Looking back to the television she feels a sense of déjà vu as the news report continues coverage on the escaped convict.

Her eyes begin to look over the living room as she questions the memories of what happened in her bedroom. It had to be a dream. An invisible attacker? Preposterous. What happened in her room played out like a scene from “The Entity” and this if real life. Something is wrong with the house’s wiring and if she goes up to her room she’ll find that there is nothing wrong with her cell phone. Shutting off the television she tosses the remote on the couch and turns away to walk to the bathroom. She’ll prove to herself it was only a dream, first by proving there are no marks on her neck despite its tenderness and next by retrieving her phone. Walking out of the living room down the stretch of a hallway leading deeper into the house she steps through a door on the right, flicking on the light.

Rebecca looks into the mirror brown eyes staring at her image as shock and fear take hold seeing the blue and red bruising resembling a hand across her throat. “fuck…”

She whispers, pressing a hand against her chest she recalls being molested and the sickening touch of fingers between her legs. Trembling, her head turns to the hallway wondering if he’s standing there watching right now. Taking two steps backwards she continues to stare into the hallway as if trying to see a sign of him. Half paralyzed with fear and trying to control her breaths she wonders what do to next. Does she lock herself in the bathroom? Run? Break through a window and try for the garage? She’s barefoot, barely clothed and trapped in a large house with – an invisible man? Eyes dart to the ceramic soap dispenser on the counter, she can throw that and maybe hit him, if he’s there or it could shatter against the wall and she’ll have to chance cutting her feet on the broken pieces. She has to do something. She’ll run. He might be there to catch her, but if she’s alone then she can hide in another part of the house, but where? The den. Yes, there’s another phone line.

Continuing to stare into the empty hallway her heart pounds as she works to gather the courage to run. Oh god, what if I run right into him? What if he’s waiting for me? He’s probably laughing at how scared I feel. Stop, you can’t fall to pieces. Not if you want to survive.

Swallowing the lump in her throat she takes in a deep breath and without another thought runs out, clearing the doorway and nearly hits the wall when she turns right to continue further into the house. The hallway ends at a small atrium which has two other hallway entrances; one leads to the indoor pool and the other leads to the east wing of the mansion. The den is at the end of that long hallway. By the time she reaches the den she’s feeling tired and out of breath; her head is still pounding. Opening only one of the double doors she slips inside the room, locking the door behind. The den is dimly lit by the sun. Walking to the desk she begins to rummage through the drawers to see if there is anything she may fine useful. Opening the slim center drawer Rebecca pauses, staring at a revolver, pressing her lips together she picks up the weapon. Her dad had always been a stickler about all guns remaining locked up.

Taking the gun out of the drawer she lays it on the desk and then reaches for the phone. Staring at the receiver she takes several breaths before hitting the talk button, which instantly lights up red and there is a solid tone coming through the ear speaker. Pressing the speed dial for the sheriff’s station she waits, hoping someone will pick up.

James sat on the couch for a few moments, turning off his invisibility before the loud booming sound of the television woke the damsel in distress to a bout of coughing and no doubt an annoying inexplicable headache. He cloaked again as he watched her small hands move to hold her head in an attempt to keep it steady, fight the dizziness and ease the headache.

He stood behind her as she crawled forward, hips swaying, tantalizing him to grab them and bury himself deep in that gorgeous-looking ass, but all in good time. This was good fun and should continue further along leaving her a terrified mess to be easily controllable and more fun to torment and play with.

It was all going well as she stood up, her feet barely able to support her. She found the poker still in place and the television still playing footage about his glorious escape and the pool of blood left in its wake. A smug expression was again etched upon his features as he remembered the bloddy break out.

Everything was in order, the only thing he couldn't hide was the shape of his fingers drawn upon her neck. She could easily see those and find out that the attack that happened in the bedroom was indeed very real. As if reading his mind, she shut off the TV and went on to the bathroom. Sneaking behind her like a panther, James followed her into the bathroom and looked over her shoulders and into the mirror. He curved his lips, almost in sympathy, but more in disgust for himself, he had marked her gorgeous body. He made a mental note to be less rough with her to avoid more ugly marks on that pretty body of hers.

As hard as it was to believe, she was in fact attacked by an invisible man. The marks on her neck were all the proof she needed to verify that unlikely scenario that was becoming her reality, a nightmare world in the real world, her world.

“fuck…” James' senses were more than strong enough to hear that whisper causing him to grin as she turned around towards the hallway, as if trying to see him. However, he was standing right behind her. He almost leaned down and whispered in her ears again telling her she was looking in the wrong direction, but he didn't want to give her a heart attack, that would be counter-productive. Obviously, she couldn't see him, but she still backed away. He couldn't understand that, why does a prey always back away, trapping itself further against a much more powerful predator. This was no different, the girl was backing away, just like they always do.

"Offense is the best defense." He thought, "But what kind of offense can such a little girl mount against me? I guess that saying is as stupid as the one who said it. More importantly, how the fuck did I learn that saying?" James shook his head to snap out of it. Yet another snippet of information was seemingly implanted in his brain. "Fucking maniac doctor!!! I should have killed him slowly and painfully for what he did to me, but maybe I should have thanked him as well for all those neat powers he gave me, nice gifts really, but anyway back to the little mouse."

He looked back at Rebecca and proceeded to read her mind again as she weighed her options, all of which didn't seem particularly good, but at least she was trying. His eyes shot to the soap dispenser as she thought of it, "hmmm, good thinking, this might work to show my body." He decided not to dodge the thing to see if it would be effective to remove his invisibility or not, and if so, for how long.

Rebecca thought about throwing the soap dispenser, but then there would be the risk of stepping on some broken glass and hurt her delicate feet. An option she quickly discarded. This was impressive for James, "This girl surely is strong and smart, able to think straight in this situation."

Finally, Rebecca made her decision; going for the den. "The den? what den? Where is that? I wonder if I should grab her by the throat again as she runs out." A thought that crossed James' mind, but he quickly discarded it, "No, that's no fun. Gotta extend the thrill of the hunt for as long as possible."

Clearing the way for her, James watched as Rebecca gathered her courage and rushed outside, dashing for that 'den'. Seeing as he had no clue where that is, he couldn't move ahead of her, so he ran behind her.

Finally, she reached the den, breathless. He was able to block the door from closing but he didn't. A decision he quickly regretted as he heard the door close and then lock behind her.

Standing in front of the door, he considered breaking it down. Rearing back to slam into it with his shoulder, he remembered he had tentacles. Quickly, he focused and summoned a few of them. The long thick appendages shot from his shoulder. He directed them at the large wooden door, which was tore to pieces in a second under the assault of the powerful tentacles.

Before she could scream or process what happened, he was on her. Hand wrapping tightly around her throat killing any screams before they had a chance to be released. His other hand took the receiver from her hand and was about to put it back down when he felt something odd in his throat. He spoke and heard Rebecca's voice instead "Naughty girl."

An amused smile crept onto his lips as he put the receiver on his mouth and spoke "Good day Sir, this is Rebecca Hamilton calling to apologize for any troubles my party yesterday may have caused." He paused a bit tightening his fingers around the girl's throat to kill any sounds she may attempt. "Yes it was fun Sir, I wonder if everyone made it home safely as well." Another pause as he looked into the girl's terrified face, almost losing consciousness again from the unforgiving hold, "Yes Sir, good to know. I will take care of myself, thank you and have a good day."

The receiver was put back down and the grip on the girl's neck was loosened, allowing her to draw breath again, but still not allowing her to escape. With the hand on her neck, James drew her small body towards him. His other hand snuck between her leg and his large palm stroked her sex through the soft thin material of her shorts and panties. He leaned in, his tongue sneaking out to lash the back of her ear as his cruel voice invaded her ears, "Caught you little girl, now let's have fun." The hand on her neck was enough to keep her in place while the other hand was teasing her most sensitive skin.

This only lasted for a few seconds before his hands clamped around her waist, lifting her small body up to throw it over his broad shoulder. His hands moved quickly, one arm wrapping around the back of her thighs to steady her. A large hand squeezed and stroked the soft skin on the back of her thigh while the other hand found its place on the round firm butt of the young woman, groping and fondling her rather roughly as she hung upside down from his shoulder.

Showing her that her fear is indeed real, she was indeed trapped in her large mansion with a deranged escaped convict who can turn invisible at will. The large invisible body carrying her small frame over his shoulder was all the proof needed to ensure she would have no doubt as to how bad her situation really was.

Suddenly, James put the girl back down, but not on her feet, rather laying her on her back on the carpet. His hand forcefully grabbed her hip and turned her around so she was laying on her stomach. He quickly straddled her back, one hand grabbed her hair pulling it back forcefully and the other slid under her top and found the roundness of her breast, grabbing it in large rough digits and fondling the soft orb of pleasure.

Again, he leaned down on her, catching her earlobe in his mouth, he nibbled on it before whispering in her ear, "You're mine now, and I am gonna have so much fun with that delicious little body of yours." His tone was serious and cruel, not trying to hide his sinister intentions. He was going to use her whether she liked it or not. At least that part should be clear for her. She would be raped, but that wasn't all she will be suffering, he wanted to torment her physically and psychologically as well as use her tender young body for his pleasure.

Playing with her luscious mound was fun for a few seconds, but he needed her naked, and quick. Letting go of her hair and her breast. James stood up and walked a little away from her allowing her another chance at freedom. Only this time, he had no intention to let her leave this room. She would be raped here, in the place she chose to keep her safe.

The gun at the table didn't phase him, he can read her mind and wouldn't allow her to hit him. Besides, it seemed he had another power; accelerated healing. She had scratched his arm and hand a lot when he had her by the throat earlier in her room, even bloodied him, but those small scratches where healed almost immediately, and now there was no trace of that. "Maybe I can take a bullet and heal on my own?" He thought, wondering if he should risk that. He stood in place, looking at the girl's body on the ground, following her movements and ready to grab her when she tries to run, or to let her reach the gun if she so chooses. Another grin colored his features as he awaited her reaction, "This is it, the moment of truth." He could feel his excitement building along with his erection, which was now struggling to be freed and tear the small girl's pleasure holes apart.

Day One: Afternoon

Finding her father’s revolver is icing and the comforting sound of the dial tone brings a smile to her lips as trembling fingers dial 911. The small victory is short lived the moment her thumb presses the second “1.” The double wooden doors of the den are torn from their hinges, the wood splintered into hundreds of pieces. Rebecca looks up with a start her body stiffens, tenses and lips part to scream as the phone beings to fall from her hand, but barely a squeak sounds before an invisible hand clenches around her throat. The grip strong enough to cut off sound, but allows just enough for breath. Clawing at the vice around her neck she tries to regain hold on the phone receiver, but he effortlessly snatches it away.

“Naught girl.”

From thin air came the voice, her voice, eyes grow wide with surprise and then she watches in horror as the attacker lifts the receiver to speak with her voice to the sheriff’s station. What kind of madness is this? None of this can be real. An invisible attacker with superhuman strength and agility is the kind of thing you see in the movies or read in comic books. She struggles, both hands uselessly clawing at the invisible hand clenched around her throat.

"Good day Sir, this is Rebecca Hamilton calling to apologize for any troubles my party yesterday may have caused."

The sound of her voice again gives her pause and she can hear the masculine voice through the receiver, Sheriff Dawson. Flexing her throat muscles she tries to force out a scream, squeak or groan…anything. Tears well in her eyes as her face contorts, strains, flushing red as she struggles to find hold, a little give on the hand’s unforgiving grip. Slowly thought begin to dim and her surroundings become far away, she’s slipping, feeling herself fading into the black.

"Yes Sir, good to know. I will take care of myself, thank you and have a good day."

Eyes fall closed hearing the end of the phone call and her arms lose strength, hands falling away from her neck she is losing consciousness. When his hand loosens she feels air rush back into her lungs, she coughs and sucks in another breath, but haze continues. Feeling her body jerked forward the tips of her toes drag against the wood floors and her body presses against the large mass of the attacker’s body his voice hot and unpleasant against her face.

"Caught you little girl, now let's have fun."

Turning her head away a whimper falls from dry lips as his hand violates between her legs, again she struggles, lifting her arms, hands balled into fists they hit against the invisible wall of a man. “No.” she whispers, pleading, “Stop! “

Useless, helpless, nothing more than a rag doll. She is thrown over his shoulder large rough hands assaulting the smooth skin of her thighs and ass, he holds her legs in place, so she cannot kick, but she can claw. It doesn’t matter how helpless the situation seems she needs to fight. Scratching her nails at his hips and back she can feel the material of his clothes, coarse and thick, like a coverall… a prisoner’s coverall. The news story flashes into her mind, impossible.

Thrown to the ground she twists her body to try and escape from his grasp, but he grips her hips and forces her on her stomach. Still she doesn’t give up screaming as long as she can, “NO! No…NO!”

Her hands claw at the tapestry rug and toes push forward as she attempts to gain some leverage. All attempts shut down with the weight of his body straddling her hips, “Stop! Please!”

The sound of her voice desperately pleads and she cries out in pain as his hand tangles in her hair forcing her body to painfully arch while his hand savagely assaults a breast. Still, she struggles and sobs and pleads. “Just let me go….please…I won’t tell anyone…. You can take a car… money…whatever…”

The touch of his lips, his teeth on the earlobe sends panic through her body each step he takes she knows she’s closer to him raping her; she can barely breathe through the sobs.

"You're mine now, and I am gonna have so much fun with that delicious little body of yours."

“No…” she whispers feeling the soreness of her throat muscles with every sound she makes, each breath taken. “….please….”

And then he is gone. No, not gone, but has moved away. She lies on the floor sobbing, panting and confused, but listening; she can hear his footsteps move a few feet away. Was he having second thoughts? No, she heard the intention in his voice. This is a game, his game and she can either continue to try and escape or lay here waiting for the torture. The gun. A surge of hope pulses through her body as she scrambles to her feet and to the desk seeing the revolver she reaches snatching it up in her hand and turns around pointing the barrel at the empty room. Bringing her other hand up to help keep her aim steady she squeezes the trigger.

Click.

No.

Click, click, click.

Fuck.

Click, click.

With each click of the empty revolver her heart sinks into hopeless, which is then overtaken by terror. She swears can hear him laughing through her uncontrollable sobs. Leaning against the edge of the desk she lowers the gun, shoulders slumping in defeat. She’s going to die. Even if she makes a run for the exit he’ll catch her – he’s too fast, too strong. Why was this happening? What had she done? She didn’t deserve this, no one did. This sick fuck… the thought goes unfinished as she becomes angry and lets out a scream of rage. Straightening her back she hurls the gun across the room. Sprinting from the desk she runs, as fast as she can to the exit, she is not going to give up without a fight.

He raises an eyebrow as she begs one last time. “No…” “….please….”. He had ignored her useless begging and pointless pleading up till now. At first it was rather amusing, hearing his victim beg and plead always made him hard as hell, but now it was getting old.

She hadn't experienced fear yet, what she had experienced thus far was her mind telling her to be scared, real reason to be scared wasn't achieved yet. At least that's what he thought, any normal person would think she was living a nightmare now, her reality was invaded by a monster created by combining the mad science of a crazy genius with an insane psychopath. The result was evil incarnate, and he had her trapped in her house. That was as good a reason as any to be terrified. However, he knew he had a lot more to show her that would make her earlier adventure look like a fun ride.

"It was about time she experienced fear, the most raw of human emotions, the most savage and the most delicious emotion." He thought as he watched the girl jump to her feet. Her thoughts reeled into his mind "Going for the gun are we? This is it, the moment of truth, would a gunshot kill me and settle the score, one for the helpless little girl, zero for the supermutant? I fuckin' hope not, but I am not moving an inch. Gotta see how far that son of a bitch managed to take things. Am I superhuman? A super soldier? Am I immortal?" He was almost shivering, not fear, he never feared death, it was excitement, well-justified excitement seeing as he was blurring the line between reality and fiction.

Looking back at the girl as she had reached the gun and raised it in his general direction. He moved a little as she was aiming at the wall to his right. He moved himself into the line of fire, just making sure that she would end up hitting him somewhere that isn't the heart or head.

Nervously, he waited, the few short moments seeming like an eternity......... and then.

Click.

No.

Click, click, click.

Fuck.

Click, click.

"Oh fuck me, are you serious???!!!!" He thought as he looked at the girl, who in a fit of rage and a reaction to the failed firing attempt, threw the gun at him and made a run for it. She was indeed fast, but not nearly fast enough. At least not fast enough to outrun the tentacle that shot from his shoulder to grab her ankle causing her to fall face-first into the doorway.

He had de-cloaked by then, four tentacles were extending from his shoulders and the gun was in his hand, and a terrible expression was drawn on his rather handsome features. His eyes were lit up in a mixture of lust and excitement, like a child on Christmas morning. A child that has finally got his hand on a gift that he awaited for a long time. His lips had curved in a sinister grin and his tongue shot out to lick his suddenly-dry lips.

The agile flexible tentacles quickly went to work, each of them grabbing one of her ankles or wrists. They all then pulled out and away from each other, forcing her into an X-shaped stretch, but that was hardly the end of it. The tentacles then sprung up suddenly at a ridiculous speed, going up fast and slamming her back against the ceiling. He had made sure to decrease the speed so as not to shatter her back, but he knew this was painful, very painful, and one of the many times when she will feel unbearable pain at his hands.

He looked up at her as she was 'laying' on the ceiling, her face right over him as he was walking to desk to rummage through the drawers. She was pinned to the soft texture of the ceiling of her father's den. Her limbs were stretched uncomfortably even painfully by the inhuman appendages. To top it all of she was glued to the ceiling, defying gravity with the constant threat of dropping if/when the tentacles let go. He knew she would be wishing for them to let go but at the same time should be careful of what she wishes for, it could cost her her life.

James was still de-cloaked, he wanted her to see his real body, and more importantly to see the tentacles, one of the gifts bestowed upon him by mad science. He wanted her to know her nightmare was indeed very real. He was there and she was in deep shit.

Moments of silence later, at least from his side as he was oblivious to hers as he looked through the drawers, finally he found what he was looking for, bullets.

With his hands free, he began loading the gun and for the first time since he made himself visible, he spoke again "Alright, little girl. As you can see you are in a whole heap of trouble, but first let me give you a bit of advice that wouldn't really help you now, but could have helped if someone gave it to you any time before today."

He looked up at her and grinned as he was putting bullets slowly in the high-powered revolver "Guns, like this one"....... As he said that, he waved the gun in his hand "Are bloody useless if one: They have no bullets in them, but at least you have the right idea, if the gun doesn't work, especially a heavy one like this, you can always hit him with it!!!" He laughed at his remark and continued "And two: Turn the safety off dipshit!!!" He taunted as he pointed at the safety and then turned it off. "This is how you prepare to defend yourself with a gun. Since you tried to hit me with an iron poker, scratch me to death, hit me with a soap dispenser, shoot me and then finally try to injure me by hurling a heavy blunt object at me, I am guessing I am on the defense now, right? Allow me to demonstrate how one defends himself against this cruel world."

With those words he finished loading the gun, six bullets in total and then he aimed it up at her and fired a bullet that hit to the right of her head followed swiftly by another that rang in her left ear. As he was shooting at her, his insane laughter was ringing in the room around her. Almost higher than the thundering sound of those bullets. He was good with a gun and knew he wouldn't hit her, but he figured it would be rather entertaining to use his new pet for target practice, especially in that position he put her in.

After firing two bullets, he stopped. "You know, a gun like this has the stopping power of a cannon, that's why they call it a 'hand cannon'. A name well-earned if you ask me. However, you had an invisible agile target. I made things easy for you though, I chose not to move, or to be more accurate, I moved right in front of you as you tried to fire. I wanted to test my strength and whether I was a super solider as that mad scientist was trying to advertise or if I was a failed experiment. I am not afraid of death. They had killed me once already, all it did was piss me off. Too bad you were so stupid and had no clue how to fire a gun to help me test my strength. Oh well."

With those words, he shrugged and his voice was becoming deeper, more gruff and more threatening, even angrier. The change in tone was accompanied by two more bullets fired up towards her, both landing between her legs. One of them had actually grazed her inner thigh, but it was barely a scratch. At the sight of her blood, the small amount of blood that seeped out of the tiny cut, he stopped, and decided against firing more. He was no longer stable and feared to injure or kill her by mistake.

The tentacles suddenly withdrew and the poor girl found herself plummeting to the ground, but he was too fast to allow that. He stood right under her and she landed on his shoulder, bent over, her head dangling over his front and her legs dangling over his back. He looked up and smirked "Ah gravity, you are a heartless bitch". He laughed loud at that and at the same time one tentacle moved to grab her waist and keep her in place over his broad shoulder. His free hand moved to grab a handful of her silky hair and he pulled her up painfully. He then removed one bullet from the gun, leaving only one bullet in it.

Before she could do much or say anything, the gun was pushed in between her lips, the smell and taste of freshly burned gunpowder invaded her senses and his finger tightened on the trigger.

"I am sure you figured it out girl, I am that escaped convict you saw on TV, and if I am not mistaken you are alone here and your parents are in a vacation for two weeks. I want to lay low for a while and this place is just perfect, you will be my sex slave for those two weeks as I stay here, you will serve me and do everything I tell you to do, and in exchange, at the end of those two weeks, you will be rewarded by not being killed in a horrible gruesome way and probably not missing any limbs or notable organs either. However, if you decide to continue this little game, defy me and not be obedient, I will still rape you and torture you, as you can't fight me, but it won't end in those two weeks. At the end of those two weeks, I will either kill you awarding you a slow painful death for your troubles or kidnap you and make you into my sex slave for much longer than the promised hell in those two weeks. It's your call, you have two short weeks of servitude, pain and humiliation and fourteen long days to survive my merciless use and abuse, or you have a whole life of that or death, your call!!!"

His voice was deep and menacing, but at the same time calm and serious. He was negotiating with her seriously. Of course, he had no intention to let her go at the end of those two weeks, but a prey always likes some hope, even false hope. With a clouded judgement, a prey can rarely tell the difference between the two, a bonus for a wicked predator like himself.

As he finished his speech, his finger tightened even more on the trigger, and then .......click.......

He had actually pulled the trigger, only the barrel was empty. It was a six-shooter and he had already used four bullets, so there was four empty slots plus the one he had emptied "I took the liberty and guessed your first answer which was a no. With every 'no' you say, I will pull the trigger, at most you have four times to say 'no' depending on your luck, so you might want to hurry up and accept my generous offer if you don't want your parents to collect your brain from this room. I know my acquaintance is mind-blowing, but I just don't want it to be literally mind-blowing if yo're catching my drift"

At that point, his grin was even more pronounced, more sadistic and more amused at the situation, enough to believe he will actually pull the trigger again with the gun in her mouth, which of course, he had no intention to do. He kept the gun in her mouth, hand in her hair and tentacle holding her waist as he awaited her reply.

Day One: Late Afternoon

Click.

No.

Click, click, click.

Fuck.

Click, click.

This sick fuck… the thought goes unfinished as she becomes angry and lets out a scream of rage. Straightening her back she hurls the gun across the room before making a break for the door pushing her body to run as fast as she can. She is not going to give up without a fight.

Reaching the doorway was like approaching the finish line in a race, elation springs within her chest for a moment before it’s snatched away only to be replaced by fear and pain; footing stolen she drops to the floor, chin hitting the wood floor before her hands could help cushion the fall. Teeth rattle and her mind goes blank whatever grabbed her didn’t feel like a hand or anything she could readily describe, but she is caught like a baby calf in a rodeo. The breath forced from her lungs she struggles to intake enough air to scream as she’s dragged across the floor.

The next few seconds happened faster than her mind can process. All four limbs subdued, but there is only one man, she catches a glimpse of him now though he is more than an ordinary man. Her body is quickly lifted from the floor and the air is again forced from her lungs as she slams against the ceiling, limbs stretched to the point of strain on each joint. Mind numbing pain racks through her body stealing her voice and horror fills every sense as she struggles to breathe and wrap her mind around the visage of her attacker. Through the blur of tears she looks down, mouth agape with a silent scream. He’s tall, broad and could be handsome if not for the menacing sneer contorting his face, his eyes shining with wicked excitement. Then there are the tentacles. Four of them, two shooting out from each shoulder and they are what holds her trapped and completely at his mercy.

Continuing to stare down at him she struggles attempting to shift her weight against the granite like hold, each joint is painfully stretched and the squirming only serves to put further strain on over stretched muscles. How can this be real? This man can turn invisible and tentacles spring out of his shoulders. He has trapped her in her home, she’s alone – helpless and will likely die. Closing her eyes she sucks in a full breath and lets out an agonizing cry of pain and despair. Through uncontrollable sobs muscles tense and tremble against the strain. Hope slips away.

She hadn’t been paying attention to his movements through her struggle to gain control, deep breaths through the tears does little to slow the pounding of her heart. It’s his voice, cruel and cold, which draws her attention from focusing on her demise.

"Alright, little girl. As you can see you are in a whole heap of trouble, but first let me give you a bit of advice that wouldn't really help you now, but could have helped if someone gave it to you any time before today."

Eyes widen as she notices him loading bullets into the gun she’d thrown at him minutes earlier. Fuck. I’m fucked. Instinctively she tries to move, but gains not a centimeter; she is held tight, trapped and vulnerable. Fuck.

"Guns, like this one".......

His voice draws her focus from the gun to him, hazel eyes full of fear, blurred with tears; she listens to the menace of his voice.

"Are bloody useless if one: They have no bullets in them, but at least you have the right idea, if the gun doesn't work, especially a heavy one like this, you can always hit him with it!!!"

His laugh is mocking, raising a spark of ire despite her hopeless situation. “You don’t think---“

The sound of her voice doesn’t interrupt his revelry as he continues."And two: Turn the safety off dipshit!!!"

Teeth grit against his insults and yet fear keeps any smart mouthing in check. He continues to taunt and his twist on how she’s tried to defend herself is laughable, but neither of them is laughing. The final bullet loaded into the chamber he locks the cylinder in place and aims at her. Anger, fear, sorrow, desperation all disappear in an instant and what is left is the regret of what she’ll not live to experience and all the years she hid in her academic bubble.

The gun is fired and her stretched form flinches, each muscle tightening as her mouth opens wide with a scream that strains vocal chords and is choked with fear. Two blasts from the revolver land on each side of her head and several seconds pass before she realizes she’s still alive, uninjured. The attacker’s maniacal laughter thunders in her ears, throbbing through her head as she lets out another desperate scream, tears and drool dripping from her eyes and mouth.

"You know, a gun like this has the stopping power of a cannon, that's why they call it a 'hand cannon'. A name well-earned if you ask me. However, you had an invisible agile target. I made things easy for you though, I chose not to move, or to be more accurate, I moved right in front of you as you tried to fire. I wanted to test my strength and whether I was a super solider as that mad scientist was trying to advertise or if I was a failed experiment. I am not afraid of death. They had killed me once already, all it did was piss me off. Too bad you were so stupid and had no clue how to fire a gun to help me test my strength. Oh well."

Paralyzed with fear the thundering pounds of her heart fills her ears and nearly drowns out his words, only comprehending enough to learn he’s the product of a scientist. Evil had been given a gift. She is Its victim. Its play thing, Its means for sadistic enjoyment, the torture won’t end with a simple death. Hope bleeds away as resignation surfaces. The firing of the revolver reminds her she’s still alive, choking on another scream adrenaline and fear keep her from feeling pain as the bullet grazes the soft supple skin of her inner thigh.

What she does feel is the rush of falling, the catch of her stomach and the ground racing closer. Will the impact kill her? Or merely rush the air from her body and break a bone or two? It is a 12 foot drop, people have survived worse. The pain never comes as evil intervenes softening the fall by catching her with Its shoulder. Breath is force from her lungs and pain vibrates through her bones as her pelvis meets a solid muscled shoulder. A cry of pain wants to be heard, but there is no sound from lack of air. Immediately she struggles wanting to be away, but Its hold too tight.

"Ah gravity, you are a heartless bitch".

It laughs, loudly and a muscled tentacle firmly wrapped around her waist to keep her from escaping though her hands still push against Its body, the struggle to be free unending. Feeling fingers wrapping in her hair she whimpers, air returning to her lungs, a painful gasp rushes from her lips as It pulls her head back to force her into a painful arch. God, please let this end. The only words to flash through her mind as the hot barrel of the revolver is forced between her lips, burning the tender flesh, she makes a vain attempt pull her head away. The smell of gunpowder fills her nostrils and leaves a strong bitter taste her tongue. Is this it? Will it end here?

"I am sure you figured it out girl, I am that escaped convict you saw on TV, and if I am not mistaken you are alone here and your parents are in a vacation for two weeks. I want to lay low for a while and this place is just perfect, you will be my sex slave for those two weeks as I stay here, you will serve me and do everything I tell you to do, and in exchange, at the end of those two weeks, you will be rewarded by not being killed in a horrible gruesome way and probably not missing any limbs or notable organs either. However, if you decide to continue this little game, defy me and not be obedient, I will still rape you and torture you, as you can't fight me, but it won't end in those two weeks. At the end of those two weeks, I will either kill you awarding you a slow painful death for your troubles or kidnap you and make you into my sex slave for much longer than the promised hell in those two weeks. It's your call, you have two short weeks of servitude, pain and humiliation and fourteen long days to survive my merciless use and abuse, or you have a whole life of that or death, your call!!!"

Tears and snot cover her face as It explains what her choices are, if one considers them to be choices. With either senario she will be raped and tortured, but one has the prospect of survival. A sliver of hope, if she can cooperate, if she can survive then maybe It will let her live. The probability that It is lying is likely, but the sliver of hope is enough. What if she can find a way to escape or kill the monster? It’s worth a try even if she dies. The thoughts pass through her mind in a flash and before she can make any sort of a response the “click” of the hammer startles and for an instant she thought she might be dead. A tremor shoots through her body and she chokes on the barrel of the gun through a fresh wave of tears.

"I took the liberty and guessed your first answer which was a no. With every 'no' you say, I will pull the trigger, at most you have four times to say 'no' depending on your luck, so you might want to hurry up and accept my generous offer if you don't want your parents to collect your brain from this room. I know my acquaintance is mind-blowing, but I just don't want it to be literally mind-blowing if you’re catching my drift"

It is clear, It will not let her go, she will die, but maybe, just maybe there is a chance. On that chance she blinks through the tears to look at evil, at Its menacing sadistic smile and with what little give she has nods her head to agree to Its terms.