Fate: Diabolical

Something Lost

Even as he towered above her, his hands crudely covering her body, her brain kept repeating that she had somehow misunderstood. In a moment he would pull back with some reasonable explanation about standard storm procedure in these parts, or about the risk of hypothermia in wet clothes… She would apologise for even thinking such things and they would laugh together at her naiveite, maybe he would offer up some kind assurances that she will pick up the ways in time…This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening... and if it was, then it was surely her fault. Her new purple coat crumpled in a corner, shredded and discarded in his impatient undressing, flashed her back to that smiling, carefree girl who had so eagerly parted with her hard-earner money for it barely a week before. Somehow, she knew that she would never be able to relate to that girl again, and in that moment, she felt something die, and felt inclined to mourn, despite not truly grasping what exactly had been lost…

The weight above her shifted, his hand snaking under her shirt and for the first time she felt his touch against her bare skin, cold and coarse. A thousand ice pricks shot up her spine and her face contorted on its own. She squirmed fruitlessly as he lowered himself onto her, not with the considerate care of a lover, but with the crushing weight of an oppressor. He pinned her arm beneath his knee, emitting a squeak of pain and grabbed a fistful of her hair at the base of her skull, manoeuvring her face to his. She kept her eyes squeezed shut as he slammed his lips down on hers and his sour, rancid tongue invaded her mouth. She felt his tongue searching and her stomach lurched. Her feeble attempts to free herself only opened new places for his tongue to exploit, painting her mouth with his putrid scent. His other hand had worked its way under her bra, and he clenched her breast painfully, with no regard for the human heart that beat fearfully beneath it. Relinquishing her lip’ he pressed his face to her neck and breathed her in. His sandpaper tongue lashed out at her neck, licking, biting, devouring. His hand sleuthed down her body and expertly popped the top button of her jeans open, slipping his hand inside. For the first time in her sheltered life she felt the hand of another down there… This is happening. This is really, actually happening. The sobs set in with the understanding, but then something unexpected happened. As his tongue slid over a particular spot on her neck, a spot she had noticed many years ago in the early stages of puberty when she first discovered that you could create your own pleasure, something erupted inside and something inhuman broke-free of her lips…. The monster and her both froze in surprise at her animalistic growl and for the first time he really, truly looked at her. Lightning coursed through her and suddenly the monster was flying, hitting the back wall of the hut with aggression and crumpling to the floor in a heap. There was no time to think, no time for understanding, only for impulse and on impulse she ran. The icy air battered her skin, but she couldn’t feel it. A rip-roaring howl exploded from the hut, but she couldn’t hear it. The landscape whipped past her at an unearthly speed, but she couldn’t think about it. Run. Just run.