Bonnie

Chapter 1-2

Erica wakes up slowly; her head is pounding. She goes to grab her head, but she notices that she cannot move her hands. Her eyes open to blackness. At first, she thinks she was rendered blind from the last blow received from her captor, but as her eyes recover and adjust to the light, she realizes that there is a single candle flickering off to the left. Once again she tries to move, but all she can do is roll over, so she rolls, and rolls again till she is right beside the candle. In the light Erica can see that her hands are tied behind her back; however that is not all, her feet are tied together as well, and there is a rope that connects the two. That is not all she notices—she is naked. Erica begins to panic and can barely breathe. She starts to flex every muscle in her body in an attempt to get free, but all she does is scrape layers of skin off of her wrists and ankles. After realizing her efforts are futile, she gives up, the sound of her tears dripping down and onto the concrete floor echoes in the otherwise quiet. A door unlatches, and for a moment the room is flooded with a bright light. The silhouette of a man walks in and slams the door behind him.

Neither he nor she makes a noise; the silence is palpable. Erica holds her breath, hoping that she will either wake herself from the terrible dream that she finds herself in, disguise herself in the darkness so that the man won’t see him, or die, preventing her captor from any pleasure he plans on getting out of her.

The man takes a step forward, Erica lets out a shriek, but it doesn’t stop him from coming closer. She squirms as much as she can but only manages to inch herself a foot away by the time he is upon her. He flips her over so that they are face to face. The man is shirtless; however his chest is covered in matted hair, and his face is veiled by what looks like a leather executioner’s mask. Instead of pants, he wears a black leather kilt that matches his mask. She screams, but he quickly grabs her head firmly, but instead of closing her mouth, he forced it open. He then jammed what tasted like a sweaty sock into her mouth and proceeded to wrap duct tape around her head to keep her from spitting it out. After he was done, he let her go and she fell to the ground and curled up in the fetal position, coughing out of discomfort.

She could feel him staring at her while she lay on the cold floor, trying to compose herself. His heavy breaths ran shivers down Erica’s back; it is then that she wishes it was all over.

The masked man grabs the rope connecting Erica’s hands to her feet and attaches a carabiner to it. Then, he walks to a corner of the room and starts to pull on the second rope. Erica now realizes that there is a pulley system connected to the carabiner and she is rising into the air. She screams and twitches, but it does not slow her ascension. Eventually, she gives up battling—her resistance is pointless.

Once she reaches the desired height, Erica is left to hang, head hanging low and tears running down her face. She doesn’t even notice the fact that her kidnapper has made his way over to her and knelt down right beside her. Startled by his presence, Erica stops crying and freezes every muscle in her body as a type of defense mechanism. His hand grabs the hair on the back of her head and raises it until she is looking right at him. In an almost caring fashion, he brushes the tears out of her eyes and lightly pets her cheek. Her eyes widen, and in the candlelight, she can see two abnormally blue eyes staring back at her from behind the mask. They have a strange calming—almost reassuring—effect on Erica, she feels like she can breathe for the first time since she found herself tied up, helpless, in a dark room with nothing but a candle for company.

This feeling doesn’t last long because her head lowers the second the man’s grip on her hair lessens. He pushes her shoulder slightly, and she spins. She becomes nauseous as she turns, catching only a glimpse of the candle on one end of her spiral and the masked man kneeling at face height on the other; however, she can keep everything down before coming to a stop. The blue eyes appear disappointed, and he pushes her again. This time she spins faster, and the result is her vomiting into the sock. She gags, choking on her vomit when he places a hand on the duct tape and pulls in down low enough for the sock to fall out. She coughs, gasping for air, but before she recovers, he pulls her hair, raising her face to his and speaks, “give in, and I’ll let you live.” Then he raised his finger to his lips motioning for her to stay quiet.

Fear runs down her spine and sweat gathers on her forehead, but she doesn’t make a sound as the man stands up. She bites down on the side of her mouth till she can taste her blood. The pain and taste are the only things that keep her from yelling at the top of her lungs. Although the pain and taste do little when she feels the man’s fingers glide from her shoulders down to her buttock. As his finger curls around the curvature of her cheek and closer to her privates, she lets out a loud squeak. She catches herself quickly but not before the man slaps her butt out of agitation. “It won’t happen again,” she whispers. His hand comes crashing down on her ass again. She tenses up, digging her teeth back into her cheek. Only this time she doesn’t feel the pain or taste the blood, she can’t even feel her pounding headache which has been bothering her since she woke up, all she can feel is the masked man spreading her legs and stepping between them. She can feel his thighs grazing against the inside of hers, his hair—almost—tickling her. She can hear him pull his kilt up and set the cold leather on her bum, she feels him push inside her, and then everything goes cold. Eventually, she feels nothing at all.

When he’s finished, he steps back to gather himself and catch his breath. Inside Erica’s head, there is stillness. The thought that keeps rolling over and over in her head is, it’s over, and I survived. Relief floods over her as she feels the pulley lowering her towards the ground, but it stops before she gets there. She looks around for an explanation, “What’s happening? I did as you said, I gave in. I gave in!” She receives no reply. The man grabs the rope tied around Erica’s ankles and lifts it up until she is vertical, then they are connected to the main rope that is holding her off the ground. “Why aren’t you putting me down!? What did I do?” She says as she starts to pout—her body heaving with each sob. The man spins her around till she is facing him, kneels down so as to make it easier for her to look at him. He raises his finger to his lips again, motioning for her to quiet down. “But, but—” she says before being interrupted.

“Shhh,” he says. Erica goes stiff as he leans in to whisper into her ear. “I did it because you were there.” As the last syllable rolls off his lips, he pulls a razor sharp blade out of his boot and cuts her throat. The gasps for air are drowned out by the blood—blood that runs from her throat, over her face, and onto the floor.