Full Circle

[BLACK BART]

It had gone well, but then after 20 years of planning and deliberation it should have. Her abduction from the local gymnasium where she went every Wednesday night, the transport of her body to the abandoned garage...and the abuse and finally the rape of her young, lithe body.

I had left her alive as was my intent all along, dropping her unconcious body beside the road before pulling my mask off and regarding her as she moaned and awoke.

"WHY???" The pitiful word escaped her swollen lips and I answered with a riddle.

"In a few years we'll meet face to face again and then you can answer that yourself"

The young woman slumped to the grass, her eyes swollen and unseeing as unconciousness claimed her in it's healing arms and I stepped into my car.

Revenge is rarely fair, I reflected as I sped off towards my next destination, And justice is hardly swift...I had started a chain of events that would one day come full circle.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A closed thread for three...Hopefully this won't be "Just another rape thread" and you'll read along as we develop it.

 

[Lady_Kit]

It was late; no traffic noise broke the stillness of the night air. There had not been another car since He had sped away. She lay naked and shivering beside the road where He had left her; drifting in and out of consciousness. The low temperature and the trauma combined to keep her body sedated; letting her mind hide from the rape and abuse.

Her body was battered. The marks of bindings upon her skin had already begun to bruise, but they would not be permanent. Her lips were swollen and flecked with blood, and other substances; they too would heal. Her flesh would feel raw for weeks; the tender places between her thighs and the cheeks of her ass would remind her daily of her ordeal. Her attacker had been thorough no act of depravity had been omitted. She had fought him, of course, and he seemed to take some pleasure in her struggle. He had used his strength against her, punishing her for not performing as commanded, and she had finally stopped fighting, wishing only for the ordeal to end; certain that once he finished she would die. However, he did not intend to kill her, though he had not been gentle while he had followed his careful plan. When she awoke, there would be considerable pain but there was no permanent physical damage. The injuries to her spirit would prove more lasting also according to his plan.

 

[poohlive]

John knelt down at the side of the road. He hadn't heard her at all. The very fact that her breathing now raspy when he came closer only seemed to spark his curiousity more.
Although, now it wasn't curiousity.
Now it was fear.
He smelled the blood at first. One of his daily walks always found him coming near this side of the road. It was the scariest part of the entire walk. He kept having nightmares that one day instead of grass under his feet, he felt the hard pavement below him.
A large bellowing horn that could only come from one of those semi's heard behind him.
He turned, but saw nothing. Only blackness, and a sharp wind that tried to rip right through him.
More than once he woke up in a cold sweat.
Animals from time to time had tried to cross this trek of road, only to end up in an odd position in the ditch, dead eyes and pooling blood around them. He smelled those too, the blood, and the decay of death, but those he tried to avoid.
The blood was fresh. John remember that, a distinct coppery taste at the back of his throat, reminding him of a time in the third grade when some bully named Red Thorin (called Red Thorn for many reasons) had hit him so hard his nose broke. Blood came out sharp, and as he sat in the nurse's office, she told him kindly to tilt his head back.
The blood flowing into his stomach. That coppery taste coming into each breath that he took.
Fresh blood. Human blood.
He leaned down, against the side of the road. His feet planted on the loose gravel, unsure of how far the road actually was from the both of them, but confident enough that for the time they were safe.
The breathing was human.
Before he thought perhaps it was an animal, a deer or something. It had simply not quite died. This was a human, probably a victim of a car accident.
Funny, he didn't hear anyone else, or any cars for that matter. In fact, except for her harsh raspy breaths, he heard nothing at all.
Not even the faint tick of a car as it cooled.
There was no car.
"Are you hurt?"
It was a redundant question. He assumed that whoever it was probably doesn't just lie in ditches breathing heavilly for no apparent reason. Still, he didn't want to frighten her or anything. He had a tendancy to do that.
John kept quiet himself, the less noise he made, the more he could hear.
"Miss? Can you walk?"
From her voice, he knew it was a female. The breathing was raspy, but it still held that feminine quality. Out of context, it almost sounded like a lover, moaning as the pleasures englulfed her body.
He didn't become aroused by what he heard and smelled, only apalled.
His hand reached down, touching the soft curve of a breast. He moved it down to her stomach, and then out until he reached one of her hands, and grabbed it in his own.
Through all of this, he kept a blank stare in front of him, not even trying to look down at her formless body as it lay. He had no need to.
The large pupils wouldn't have helped him anyway.
He couldn't see her any more than he could pick her name from thin air.

 

[BLACK BART]

Aaron

The miles passed quickly underneath the car, the tires humming a tune over and over the pavement that lulled me into a near dream like state.

My life had been so simple...so good in the early days, a new wife...a promotion as I moved thru the ranks...a new station where I was able to bring that wife and share each blissful night. Even the threat of war hadn't marred it, after all it was in a small country far away and we would easily quell it.

Her face was so real...green eyes looking calming at me over an impish smile, dark brown hair that she continually brushed back when she was excited....

I reached for that face, yearning to stroke the soft skin of her cheek and then....jumped as the horn of a passing car snapped me back to reality and the reason I was headed for another town.

I looked at the map and mentally noted where I was...At this rate it would take less than a week and I would be there and be able to find a place to rent for cash from which I could begin to stalk number two.

The first crossed my mind, the determined look underneath the bruises and dirt, the eyes that spoke of pain and something else...Something I knew as well...the beginning thoughts of...revenge?

"Justice is Blind, Aaron" My sergeant had told me in a rare moment "That's why we have to help it along sometimes, using the wrong methods for the right reasons"

They were simple words that changed my life...

 

[Lady_Kit]

Sara

Sara woke from the nightmare expecting to find herself in her chilled but secure bedroom where she had once again left the window open to the night air. Instead, she quickly realized that the nightmare was real and she was far from safe. A man loomed above her, and she cried out, thinking it was her attacker, returned to kill her after all.

No!! No more! Please…no more.

He held her wrist in a loose grip and she jerked away, scrambling crab-like across the gravel of the roads shoulder. The sharp stones and road trash cut into her exposed skin, but she paid it no heed in her desperation to escape.

Don’t touch me! I’ll scream!

She threatened; unknowing that in this isolated area there was no one to hear her except the animals and the man who stood unmoving at the side of the pavement.

She stood and thought to run, then realized that she could see nothing in the near darkness. No streetlights or houses were visible. A flashlight, the man must have a light, she thought, but when she looked at him, she saw nothing in his hand that looked like a light.

Sara wrapped her arms around her nakedness and stared defiantly at the figure before her. In the dim light, she could see little beyond his size, which was large, and the stillness of his posture.

Who are you? Where is this place? She demanded.

 

[poohlive]

John stood up, hearing her shy away from him. His sense were already alert. For some reason, he didn’t feel right about all of this. From the tone of her voice, he thought someone else could be nearby.
He paused for a moment, letting the silence grow between them. Something odd andunnatural, but also necessary. From the way she nearly screamed, he didn’t think even with her eyesight, she had any better way of knowing what lurked close to them.
After what seemed like forever he convinced himself they were the only two peoplearound. He hadn’t even heard the faint downshifting of a car or truck as it came ever so slowly towards them, the hiway was as dead as the air around them.
“My name is John,” he said to her, trying to look in her direction. The sighted peoplefound it easier if he looked at them. It seemed pointless to him, but this woman had probably been through enough, and he felt no reason to make the entire situation even
more weird. He wasn’t quite sure where she was now. She had moved further up,somewhere in front of him, but he couldn’t pinpoint it, since she shied away from him.
“This is my property, or at least its the edge of it. I own most of the field around here. Do you need something? I don’t know exactly what happened, but if there’s anything I can do
to help...”
He didn’t know if she even wanted his help at the moment. Perhaps she would just try to hitch a ride from here. Maybe had fallen asleep and had a bad dream, now waking it off.
Something told him it was far worse than that however.

 

[Lady_Kit]

Sara watched the man carefully. She no longer believed him to be her attacker, but she wasn't feeling particularly trusting either. The innocent part of her that looked for the best in everyone was pretty wounded at the moment and she wasn’t taking any chances on this guy or anyone else.

“My name is John,” he said. He looked in her direction as he spoke, but she noticed that he didn’t really look at her. She moved to her left causing gravel to shift on the shoulder of the road. John turned his head, but directed one ear, not his eyes in the vicinity of the sound. She wondered if he was blind. Sara picked up a small stone and tossed it into the bushes on the opposite side of the pavement. He heard the sound, but turned his head in her direction instead.

“It isn’t nice to tease a blind man, you know. If you’re through playing games, perhaps you’d like to tell me your name and what you’re doing on my land?”

Sara, my name is Sara.

The momentary distraction of Johns presence left her in a rush and she sat down on the rough pavement, curling upon herself once again; reminded of her bare & abused body, raw flesh, and the swollen lips that were now bleeding a little from speaking. She began to cry, deep racking sobs that shook her body, making the pavement scrape where it touched her skin.

left here…he left me here…please..I..I..I want to go home…

why did he do it? why did he h.h..hurt me like th..that? why?

Her voice was muffled by her position, her speech broken by hiccupping sobs. She sounded lost and forlorn.

Though he could not see, Sara raised her face to look at him. Her tears had run through the grime on her cheeks, making tracks across the puffy skin. Her red and swollen eyes implored John to explain the attack.

why did he rape me? why?

In her mind was an echo of the question and the reply of her attacker.

"In a few years we'll meet face to face again and then you can answer that yourself."

 

[poohlive]

He took in the seriousness of it all, unsure how to proceed. Her words hung in the air like an early morning fog, pulling even at his own tempered heart.
For the first time in his life, he was thankful that he couldn't see her. She must have looked a mess, hair all over the place, tears streaming down her cheeks. He felt that she had no clothes, nothing to hide what she held dear, what some man had taken from her.
She probably didn't want to even look at another man again. He understood, knowing why she chose to stand at such a length.
"Can you walk?" he repeated, "If so, my house isn't that far. Only a quater of a mile or so. I've got a phone, and some clothes if you need them. You can call the police, or ambulance, or whoever you want."
John knew how some victims wanted to keep things quiet, and not bother with police or seek medical attention. He would have called anyone he could to help her, but it was her decision after all. If he forced help down her throat, he'd be no more different than the man who just dropped her here.
Just dropped her here, for what reason? She seemed fine, at least enough to walk and talk. From what he could tell she had no kife or gun wounds. The rapist hadn't left her alone to die.
No, he thought, the true horror of the act coming to his mind. He left her here to live.
John held onto his stick once more, the weight of it heavy in his arms.
"There should be a path," he used the stick to point, more or less where a small gravel road cut through the thicket of grass and bushes, "It'll lead right up to the house."
He didn't know if she wanted to go first, or for him to go. It didn't seem important to him, but at this time he knew she would be overly paranoid. Best to just comply with her wishes for the moment, and get her some help.

 

[BLACK BART]

I awoke screaming, cold sweat running from my skin in rivulets of raw stinking fear. Fear, it was something they were good at, the best they had proudly stated the day we met and each day after that for the next four years. Four years in which they proved it daily until by some mistake I was traded for a high-ranking politician. I laughed at the thought of the faces that hovered over me then, so proud they had "pulled it off" and were able to trade in one instant, so abashed and trying to hide their embarrassment the next when they found out I wasn't "the colonel" and just a lowly foot soldier. Still they had made a quiet parade and welcomed me back to civilization, keeping me hospitalized for my "wounds" until I was fit and ready to go home.

I pulled myself from the bed and headed for the shower, chasing all thoughts of my past away with practiced precision. It was the only way...I couldn't dwell on the past, or let myself think of the "grand" return to my family that followed. I had another young lady to track down today, footwork to do, blinds to set and a trap to spring. After all, they had taught me well and what better way to return that great gift than to give it to their children???

 

[Lady_Kit]

Sara only half listened to John as he offered her aid. Part of her still listened for the return of her attacker; she remained half convinced that he would be back. Something he said...she could almost recall. The thread of memory was torn by Johns voice.

"Can you walk?" He repeated, his voice rising to get her attention.

Yes, I can walk. I'll follow you.

The large man moved confidently down a path that she could still just barely see. Sara did her best to watch for roots or stones that might cause her to trip, but the path was clear and smooth. It seemed very well traveled. She still felt the chill of the night air, but her skin warmed as she moved. Every part of her body ached and the movement did not help that, but she clenched her teeth and followed as best she could.

John had said she could make a call, but there was no one to come for her or give her any aid. Her parents were both dead, her mother years before, her beloved father more recently. She began to weep quietly as she walked, thinking of her father. She had always been a Daddys girl and now, more than ever she longed for his loving support. He would know what to do.

Sara could almost hear him, telling her to be his strong soldier; and she would. The military had been part of her life for as long as her father had lived. It was all she knew. She was an army brat, used to moving from place to place. Only since his death had she settled in one place, and even now, she knew only a handfull of people.

Her life as a writer left her to work alone, dealing with editors and publishers from a distance kept her virtually isolated from the outside world. What she had once considered an advantage was now a liability, she co-workers or close friends she could call. She would have to face this by herself.

 

[poohlive]

John waited for the familiar hub. Years and years of walking on this path had made him map out every ingle inch of it. There was a long curve, which they had just finished, and now an upward climb. It was small, he doubted if anyone but he who had worn down this path so many times could even feel it, but it was there just the same.
When he came to the hub, he turned, and there was the guard rail, a long straight wooden rail that led from the two story victorian house down to the worn path. The road could barely be seen from his house. He purposely picked a place that had been set back from the road. That damned hiway scared the living shit out of him, and he wanted to be as far away from it as possible.
"There is water," he said, walking up to the back porch, and reaching for the doorknob. As if magic, his hand clapsed around it. He opened the door, wide enough for her to pass beside him.
"In the kitchen, first room to your right. Soda, milk, juice, even some beeer if you have the hankering. Stronger alcohol is in the den further down the hall. Help yourself."
He heard her crying, sniffling all the way up. John wasn't sure if she tried to strifle it for his reason, or for some rason of her own, but after a while it stopped.
"I'll go get a first aid kit for you. From the sound of it, you took a few scrapes on that gravel."
He didn't want to mention what other wounds she might have gotten from her horrible encounter. For the moment, he didn't try to bring it up, or help her out. He barely knew her, and as much as he wanted to just wrap his arms around her for a moment, he held himself at bay.
She shied away from him before. He didn't doubt human contact was the last thing on her mind.
He would let her heal on her own.
John went into the downstairs bathroom, gathering up a small first aid kit he owned, and a few towels. Mostly it had bandaids and hydrogen peroxide. Little things he needed cause of small cuts on his hands, and arms, or bumps on the edges of tables or things that he had forgotten he had moved or something. He knew there was gauze and a few others things that might be helpful. Apsirin, and one of those instant cold pac's, if his fingers hadn't misled him.

 

[BLACK BART]

Aaron

I had located her easily, the registry for american veterans listing her current father's address from which I sat outside in the stolen Honda. I smirked, one of the best built compacts and the most stolen as well, then noted the time the young lady arrived at her parents house for the night.

Nineteen and still at home, a college student at the local university or working her first real job, I wagered myself and setlled in for a long nights wait. Waiting and watching was another talent I had developed, waiting for the next "session" in which my captors would try to convince me of the error in my ways and fill me with half truths, trying to pry the names of my fellow soldiers from me....It became a game, one at which I quickly became adept at, accepting the torture as I silently repeated each name over and over, saving their names for myself.

 

[Lady_Kit]

Sara watched John move confidently around his home. She stood in the hallway, waiting for him to return with the first aid kit. He was being kind about the scrapes, being kind about alot of things. She knew that. She should thank him, for his kindness, for guiding her from the road, but the words wouldn't come.

When he return, she was just where he had left her, standing there in nothing but her sneakers and socks. He'd mentioned clothing, whatever it was would be huge, but she was in no positon to be picky.

John, thank you for your help. I...I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come along.

He brushed aside her thanks, saying somthing about just doing what anyone would have done. But Sara didn't see it that way.

"Is there someone you want to call? Someone to come and get you; family, boyfried?"

There's no one to call, I'm afraid I'm quite alone. No family, no boyfriend, not even a cat at home to miss me. But I'll be fine, really once I'm home. Do you know of anyone that could drive me? I could pay them, on the other end.

Sara was drawing on all the strength that she had inherited from her father. Her only goal now was to get back inside her house, lock the doors and put this night behind her.

 

[poohlive]

John nodded, not quite understanding the situation, but nonetheless going with her wishes. He handed the towels and the kit onto the counter, close to where he heard her voice, and then began moving to the other side ot get the phone.
"I've got a neighbor about a mile away, he know about my situation, and drives me places from time to time."
He picked up the phone, dialing the number. The only thing on the other end was the machine.
He shook his head,a grin pouring out on his face.
"I forgot, he went on vacation, won't be back until next week."
His mind searched for various ways for her to go home. He had his old camper in the barn, but that thing didn't work half the time anyway, and he didn't want her driving herself home. That just wasn't right.
"There's no one else I know of, at least no one close enough to drive over. I don't have any family, and most of my friends are out of state."
He walked back towards her, unsure where she was at the moment, he stopped long enough to hear her breathing, and then tried to look at her.
"I have someone who brings me groceries once a week, he'll be here the day after tomorrow. I don't know any other way for you to get home, he's a nice kid, I'm sure he'll help you out."
Did she want to stay in a stranger's house? After what she had been through, he was positive she just wanted to go home and slip under the covers.
"I've got a spare bedroom, with its own bath. And I can cook like nobody's business."
He didn't want to oversell anything, but at this point, he didn't want her to just walk out of here and try to hitchike home or anything. She might get in a similiar situation than she had just been in.
"Please, be my guest."

 

[Lady_Kit]

Sara followed him into the kitchen and stopped next to the counter. She watched as he crossed to the phone, dialed and listened to the recording on the other end.

The neighbor was gone, it seemed, and there were no other options. John carefully expained his situation, no family, friends out of state...it sounded so similar to her own. Then he offered the spare room...would she just stay, until arrangements could be made?

Stay? She couldn't stay, she must go home...but the rapist had her purse, her drivers license, my God he had her keys. She started to shake as she realized that even now, the man could be in her house. Sara covered her face with her hands as true reaction set in and she began to cry and speak at the same time.

John, I don't know what to do....

he has my wallet, my keys...John he can get into my home! I'll never be safe again...

Oh God...what do I do? I...I...oh my god oh my god oh oh oh

Her words dissolved into a tide of deep sobs and she slid against the counter down and down until she landed on her butt. Her arms wrapped around her bent legs, head resting on her knees. Her tears ran down her thighs as she sobbed.

She didn't hear John move to her, didn't notice as he knelt down next to her. She jumped as his hand gently stroked her hair, but she soon felt soothed by his touch and his kind words penetrated her misery.

"Shhh....it'll be alright...stay here for a bit, Sara, you'll be safe. No one will hurt you here."

Sara rasied her head and looked at the calm face of her rescuer. She believed him, here, for a time, she would be safe.

I'll stay.

 

[poohlive]

He didn't even realize she was naked until she was already down on the floor, sobbing into herself.
She seemed so small, so alone. He wanted to help her, do all he could to try and save her. His own intuition talking. A woman's intuition included care and nurturing, but a man's held for protection, and safety.
He felt that now.
She needed clothing.
The spare bedroom he had some extra things, mostly stuff that others had left, and some things he had grown out of. She could stay there until he knew that she wanted to do.
He would help her either way.
"Come with me," he held his hand out to her, letting it glide along her arm, until it clasped over her own.
"I'll show you where you'll spend the night, there are some clothes there for you as well."
He stood up, walking past the kitchen, and up the stairs. Atop, they came to the first door to the right. As he opened it, he stood aside for her to see.
"Something in the closet, I don't know your size, or exactly what is in there, but I'm sure you can find something. A bed, nothing fancy, it'll be here as long as you need it."
His hand still in hers, he squeezed it once, "I'm here as long as you need me too."

 

[BLACK BART]

Aaron

I awoke with a jolt, the pains of sleeping in the cramped and stolen vehicle nothing to me as I compared them to previous experiences, my mind reverting back to my dreams as I jotted the time down my prey left the house and followed at a discreet distance.

I had a new face to torture me now, a new vision to occupy my dreams and guide me perhaps...the pained and twisted face I had created...my first creation reflecting my own image...my pain...and it suddenly occurred to me how much she was like me...so much in common...

I parked outside the college campus and watched the trim brunette move into the medical buildings...pulling paper out and composing a message to the image's in my mind...perhaps she would need someone to explain her own dreams to her????

I smiled at the thought and the irony, I'd send her a hello and a cell phone number...I could talk to her and perhaps give the guidance I was denied to give to my own family...when she was ready, she would call...




"Dearest Sara....Time will heal the scars on the outside...But you will need to heal the inner ones yourself, Ironic isn't it that I'm offering to help repair the damage I've done to you, isn't it? When you hate me enough to face me...call...I'll be waiting"

 

[Lady_Kit]

The room was plain, but impeccably clean. Sara had noticed that the whole house was like that, she supposed it was best to be tidy and unfussy if you couldn’t see your surroundings. The full sized bed looked firm and inviting, the rest of the furniture was sparse. She went into the bathroom was shocked at the face that stared back at her from the vanity mirror.

Oh, God…

Her cheeks and neck were covered with large bruises and scrapes; her lips and eyes were puffy and swollen, there was a little blood smeared around her mouth, probably from the cut she could feel inside her lower lip. She turned to try to get a look at her back and shoulders and was confronted by a full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. It seemed that not one spot on her body was without a scrape, scratch, bruise or abrasion. She looked closely and saw that both breasts were covered with bites all red and ugly looking, some even showing breaks in the skin and smudges of blood.

Clean! She had to get clean! The skin between her thighs was sticky as were other areas. Her rapist had ejaculated in her and on her several times and she was thankful that her regular use of the pill would at least eliminate the threat of pregnancy. She would have to be checked for AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases after she healed, otherwise there were going to be several unpleasant questions to answer. Sara had decided that no one must ever know about the attack.

She showered carefully, letting the hot water and soap wash away the smell and touch of the rapist. Her anus and vagina were incredibly sore, having taking much of the abuse, but she gritted her teeth while she cleaned as best she could, flinching as the soap burned into scratches and raw spots. Somehow, the pain became as cleansing as the soap and water. She shampooed her short, fine hair. A still-wrapped toothbrush & toothpaste were stored in a drawer in the vanity, and she gratefully used both before returning to the bedroom.

She found a tee shirt in the dresser; pulled it on as an impromptu nightgown and stretched out on the bed. She fell immediately into an exhausted slumber; the screaming nightmares came later…

 

[poohlive]

The dawn crept through the rolling hills surrounding the two story victorian house. It snuck as silently as a theif into the surrounding valley, moving between shadows and nudging away the once impenetrable darkness that lay like a fog. The light, nothing more than a dark gray, crashing against the night in a fierce but short battle.
The sun, beaming, emerged victorious.
John felt its spray on his face, unable to help a smile of his own to meet the fiery orb.
"Good morning to you too."
Downstairs, eggs began to cook. People with sight had a terrible time with eggs. John knew this. He had eaten enough runny or burnt eggs in his life to know that the eyes are a hinderance in the kitchen.
They get in the way.
One can not look at the eggs to know when they need turned, or when they need to be scrambled, or how long it takes before they turn into brown little nuggets. One need only a sense of smell.
The nose can tell him, in one single whiff, just how long he needed to cook the egg. One nose, taking in that delightful smell, gave him more incite than any so called "Iron Chef."
He was "Blind Chef."
John chuckled, turning them over inside the pan. Crisp and golden, the exact image that came into his mind. Although he couldn't see it, he knew just what he had created.
Toast popped up, and he felt his way over to butter them.
Normally he didn't have bacon or ham for breakfast, but when guests came over he was sure to serve them whatever they wanted. The only problem was, he had used all of those little goodies when the Timmerson twins came over the other day, to help him get rid of a few stumps and upended roots in his backyard. Some things he kept falling over from time to time.
At this point falling down was nothing new to him, but still one called to keepa bit of his dignity.
He didn't want to call her down. Sara? Sasha? He remember it was something like that. Just like a blind man to be horrible at names. Not like he could just call her baby or something. The poor thing.
She kept tossing and turning in the night. He heard an occasional scream, soft groaning. Like she forced herself to live it over and over again.
Maybe a good night's sleep had helped her a bit. A shower, change of clothes, might start to heal some of the damage done to her.
He didn't want to call her down, but the drapes were open, and sunshine poured into her room. If he wasn't mistaken, the smell of eggs would waft into her room any moment...

 

[Lady_Kit]

Sara woke to the sound of birds outside her window and John moving around the kitchen. She was disoriented at first, expecting to see her own things around her. Instead the sun was shining on the wrong side of her face and the plain furnishings of Johns guest room were arranged around the bed.
She quickly remembered where she was and why she was there.
Her rest had been disturbed by nightmares but she had slept some in the last few hours of the night. This morning she felt ready to move forward and try to put the trauma behind her.

She got up, made the bed and visited the bathroom then headed to the kitchen. She had deliberatly made some noise while coming down the stairs to remind John that she had a guest before she appeared. At the kitchen doorway she stopped and watched for a moment as John confidently moved around the room.

Good morning John. Whatever you're cooking smells wonderful. Is there enough for two?

 

[BLACK BART]

Aaron

I posted the letter to Sara's personal mail box...Knowing it would be a short time before she recovered to think about mail...and knowing I had the patience to wait...waiting was another skill I excelled at...And then with a grin I picked up my own phone and dialed Sara's private and unlisted home phone number, thinking perhaps she might be more able to try and reach her world this way...And smiling at the thought of her face when she found I was waiting. Lurking in it waiting for her?

"Sara...This is Aaron...I'm the man responsible for your pain...If you'd like to talk to me, call me...."

I left the untraceable phone number...It was routed thru half a dozen false routes, another talent I had received in my previous life. And was returning to them...

I turned my attentions to the task at hand...and the woman I was tracking...already her routine was forming and with each repeated event of her day she came one step forward to being my next.... victim.

 

[poohlive]

"My dear, what sort of host would I be, if I didn't fulfill all the needs of my guests?"
He set a plate down on the table, motioning for her to sit. He himself sat across from her, a plate of his own food before him.
"I do thank you for the compliment. I used to be a lousy cook when I could see, toast and frankfurtes, that was about it. Kinda weird how things end up."
He ate his breakfast, that blank stare on his face. He wasn't sure, but he thought she was looking at him. Maybe not, it is hard to tell such small things.
"So," perhaps some small talk was in order, "What do you do?"