CHAPTER Six
Alan looked out the window to see if Jimmy was coming back on his bike yet, but his brother was nowhere to be seen, which surprised and frustrated him because the two had planned on playing some more Goldeneye the moment he came back home from his bike ride. That agreement had been several hours ago, however, and he still wasn’t home.
Where the hell does he ride too? Alan wondered.
The town of Ashland Creek wasn’t heavily populated but it did encompass quite a bit of space, which was something most people from up in the suburbs didn’t realize. They thought ‘small town’ meant ‘small area’ but when compared with the suburbs Ashland Creek actually had more landmass. Most of it was farmland, though, like the suburbs, they also had neighborhoods and a downtown area, both of which were pretty close. Unlike the suburbs one couldn’t simply hop a fence and be in another town. Instead one would have to hop a fence, cut through some woods, and then cut through a farm field or two, then cut through more woods. Once in those woods they would hit a town line of some sorts, but one which they wouldn’t know for sure they had crossed until they entered the scrubland beyond the woods, scrubland that butted up against more farm fields. A walk like that would take hours, and could be pretty dangerous. Alan had done it once with friends one summer day many years earlier, all of whom had started vomiting that night thanks to insecticide poisoning from the fields which had just been sprayed. Ever since then Alan had stuck to the roads when near a farm field and even then he didn’t like to be exposed to the fields for a long time, and always urged whoever was driving to keep the windows closed.
Was Jimmy riding that far?
Alan couldn’t see why his brother would do that, but then at the same time he couldn’t understand why Jimmy would be riding everyday to begin with. It just seemed really boring.
But maybe he isn’t really riding at all? Maybe he’s seeing Tina?
Jimmy was the type that would hide something like this just because he wouldn’t want his parents knowing, though not because they would disapprove, but because they would make fun of him. It wasn’t mean-spirited teasing, and in fact Alan was pretty sure they didn’t even know they were doing it, but it was still annoying and something Jimmy wouldn’t want to experience. The question was why wouldn’t Jimmy tell him about it? Getting together with Tina like this would be exciting for him and most likely wouldn’t be something he could hide for very long. From his parents yes, from Alan, no. The two were best friends and shared everything with each other.
Wait and see. If he really is seeing Tina when he goes riding he’ll tell you soon.
With that Alan headed into the living room to watch TV with his parents. The two were flipping back and forth between NCIS and The Office. Actually his father was flipping back and forth, and his mother was telling him to stop because she wanted to see the new episode of NCIS which was one of her favorite shows. Listening to the bickering one would think the family only had the one television set, but like most households they actually had more televisions than members of the family. This one was just in the best spot of the house.
Not liking the channel flipping - watching one show during the commercials of another always drove him crazy - Alan sided with his mother in the debate. His father had the remote, however, which evened out the odds considerably.
* * *
Brett Murphy grew weary of waiting for the f*ck head to return and eventually called off the ambush, one which probably wouldn’t have gone all that well anyway considering they were being so loud that Jimmy would have been warned of their presence. Before leaving he needed to take a piss and started toward the old shed which stood in the left rear corner of the yard. Actually the area was so overgrown with weeds and tiny trees that it probably no longer belonged in the yard category and instead was now just part of the woods.
“Me too,” Ron said after Brett announced his intention.
“Same here,” Matt said.
The two started following.
Brett went to the corner and started peeing, his spray helping to remove some of the flaking paint from the shed wall. Ron joined him. Matt went into the trees.
“What’s the matter,” Brett called. “Can’t piss with us!”
“Yeah, got something we don’t know about going on down there,” Ron added.
“I call it a penis,” Matt shouted back.
Brett laughed for a moment but then realized Matt was making fun of him. Unfortunately he couldn’t think up a comeback. Even if he had though Matt would have cut him off.
“Hey guys, look at this,” Matt said.
“No thanks,” Ron said. “Seeing mine is enough.”
“It’s a bike,” Matt said.
Brett zipped up and came over. Sure enough a bike was lying in the brush right next to a tree.
“Is it his bike?” Matt asked.
“How the f*ck should I know?” Brett asked.
“You’re the one that saw him riding.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t like examine his bike, I just saw him and called you guys.” He shook his head. “F*cking moron.”
“Dude, if it’s his bike that means he’s still here so where the f*ck is he?”
“Probably hiding in the trees somewhere,” Matt said.
“Yeah, he probably saw us and got scared and was waiting for us to leave.”
“Well, if he wants his bike back he’ll have to come and get it,” Brett said while grabbing hold of the handle and wheeling it back into the yard.
“Wait, what if it isn’t really his?” Matt asked. “What if some kid left it here or something and is going to come back for it?”
“Why the f*ck would I care. Kids should know better than to leave shit like this lying around. Finders keepers. Come on, let’s go.” Brett started wheeling the bike to his car.
* * *
Rebecca was sitting in her room when Tina came back, hands folded in her lap.
“What are you doing in here?” Tina demanded.
“Waiting for you,” Rebecca said.
“Wait somewhere else, this is my room.”
“Well, this is my house.”
Tina felt heat rising in her face, yet at the same time knew there really was nothing she could do. If her mother wanted to sit in her room she could. Still, it pissed her off especially since her father had never disrespected her space and had once even yelled at his girlfriend for going into her room. The girlfriend had liked the idea of being a ‘mother figure’ to Tina and kept trying to act like one. Tina, of course, would have nothing to do with it, and one day came home to her room having been searched, the girlfriend thinking she probably was using drugs like most teenagers her age. Thankfully the two had broken up shortly after that.
“Fine,” Tina said. “If you want to sit in this room all night go ahead. I’ll go somewhere else.” She grabbed her backpack and purse while saying this and started heading toward the door.
“So, the prom is this Saturday,” Rebecca said.
Tina stopped.
“I have to admit, I was growing curious about whether or not you were going, you know, since you are my daughter and every mother wants their daughter to go and have a good time.”
Tina looked down at her purse. Normally she kept it zipped shut, but when she grabbed it from the desk it had been open, a fact which hadn’t registered until that moment.
She turned around.
Rebecca was holding her prom ticket, a nasty little smile on her face.
“Give that back,” Tina said, her voice barely able to stay calm.
“Why should I?” Rebecca asked.
“Because it isn’t yours,” Tina said.
“This house isn’t yours yet you feel like you can do whatever you want within it, so maybe I should act the same way.” She held the ticket up and prepared to rip it in half.
Tina was about to lash out, but somehow managed to hold it back. At the same time she wondered if the school kept an electronic record of who had bought the tickets just in case something like this happened.
“What, no comments? No cuss words? No angry outbursts?”
“The school knows I bought a ticket,” Tina said. “If you rip it they’ll just print me a new one.”
“Even if I call them and tell them I don’t want you to go?” Rebecca asked.
“Why would you do that?”
“Oh I can think of plenty of reasons, but let’s see, what would I tell the school?” She looked as if she was pondering over several different possibilities. “Oh, I know. I’m worried because a girl was kidnapped while walking home and I don’t want the same thing happening to my daughter.”
Tina didn’t reply.
“Do you think they would buy that?”
Tina knew they would. Schools bent over backwards to accommodate parents, even if what the parents wanted went against the school’s basic principles. Just last year a teacher in her old school up in Glen Ellyn had told the class about a group of seniors who had cheated on a test somewhere out west and were caught. The teacher gave them all zeros due to the cheating policy, which in turn made it so they couldn’t graduate. Once the parents found out they complained and teacher had to allow them to take the test again.
“I think they would,” Rebecca continued. “But even though I am entitled to be that cruel given how poorly you’ve treated me these last several months, all after I welcomed you into my home, I won’t do that.”
She hadn’t welcomed her into her home. The courts had told her she had to take her. Tina kept the remark to herself.
“This is conditional. If you keep treating me poorly I’ll tell the school you can’t go. If you respect me and do as I say this week, then on Saturday you can have this back. Understand?”
Tina didn’t reply.
“Understand!”
“Yes.” It was everything she could do to not fly across the room and beat the woman to a bloody pulp.
“Yes, what?” Rebecca asked.
Tina stared at her, unsure what she wanted.
“How about a ‘Yes, ma’am.’” Rebecca said.
Tina couldn’t believe this.
“Of course, if you don’t want to respect me as your mother I can always call the school right now,” Rebecca said.
“Yes, ma’am, I understand,” Tina said.
“That’s better.” Rebecca stood. “Now I don’t want you coming out of this room tonight unless I give you permission, understand.”
Again, Tina did not reply.
“Understand!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tina growled.
Rebecca smiled. “Don’t act like you have it bad. You just have to respect me for a few days, I had to respect my Mother her entire life and if I didn’t - well, society was more accepting of physical punishments back then and to this day I can still taste the bars of soap she made me suck on while taking me over her knee.”
The words were right there. She wanted so hard to lash out at the woman, but knew doing so would be disastrous.
“By the way, what are you wearing to the prom?” Rebecca asked. “I didn’t see a dress in the closet.”
“I have a dress being made . . . ma’am.”
“Really? I hope it is ready in time. We should go pick it up together. It will be a nice mother daughter bonding experience.” With that Rebecca left the room, her hand pulling the door shut behind her.
Tina wanted to scream.
* * *
“Where’s your bike?” Alan asked after meeting Jimmy in the street. He had been getting a Coke from the kitchen during a commercial and had just happened to look out the window and saw Jimmy walking home. Knowing something had happened, just not what, Alan hurried outside.
“Brett took it,” Jimmy said.
“What?”
“I set the bike against a tree to pee and I guess he was following me in his car, because all of a sudden he grabbed it.” Jimmy was obviously pissed off, his anger showing in both his words and his face.
“Why didn’t you stop him?”
“Because I was in the middle of peeing and because his friends were there.” Jimmy shook his head and slammed a fist into his palm. “I can beat the shit out of any one of them by themselves, but together . . .”
“Good point.” Alan could see the three of them overwhelming his brother and then viciously pounding the shit out of him once they had him down. It would not be an honorable fight, but they wouldn’t care. Bullies like that never did. “But now there are two of us so let’s go get it back.”
“I don’t - ”
“We are doing this so don’t even think about putting it off,” Alan said, shooting down what he knew Jimmy would say. “They won’t be expecting both of us to be there so quickly and we won’t stick around. Just grab the bike and go. If they want to come after us, so be it.”
“But he’s on the other side of town and its getting dark,” Jimmy said.
“So we take Mom’s car. She won’t care. Come on.”
Jimmy finally agreed.
* * *
Samantha couldn’t believe it but the rope was actually slipping off her wrist. A shiver went through her.
Jimmy usually tied each wrist separately and then attached the second rope to the rope between her wrists. This time he had just wrapped it around both her wrists and now her right hand was actually coming through.
Oh my god! She thought. “I’m going to get out!”
The burned areas of her wrist screamed as she pulled against the rope, but the pain was masked by her determination to get free. Hell, she would probably slice off her own thumb to free herself and not feel a thing.
On cue the rope snagged against her thumb joint, which stopped her hand from sliding out. All hope fled.
She tried squeezing her fingers into the smallest fist possible, but still the rope would not move.
No! No! No! she silently screamed while pulling with all her might.
It came out.
Samantha was so stunned that she failed to realize her right hand was sitting in her lap, and that the rope around her left had fallen to the floor.
She was free.
Panic hit.
She turned her head toward the door while her right hand rubbed the rawness of her left, and then the left of her right. If it’s unlocked I could - she failed to finish her thought, the idea of freedom after the longest day of her life was almost too much to bear.
Oh God, what if I’m home tonight. Please God let me get home.
She crawled over to the door and used the handle to stand. Her legs shook with exhaustion while her hands shook with excitement. Her mind was racing.
Please . . .
She twisted the handle.
It was unlocked.
She pressed her body against the cool metal door and then eased herself back and pulled. It opened less than a centimeter before catching on something.
No, her mind said weakly.
She pulled again.
The door didn’t get past the obstacle.
NO!
Somehow the door was locked on the outside, only not through the knob. Something was attaching it to the wall.
Samantha fell to her knees crying, her fists clenched, her mind screaming with frustration and sadness. Jimmy had planned for this. The little bastard had put some kind of lock on the outside just in case she got free, and now, once he found out she had tried to escape, he would punish her.
He would do -
Knowing how awful it would be Samantha couldn’t finish the thought and collapsed into herself on the floor, her body rolled into a crude ball, her hands hanging onto her knees. Sobs echoed through the room while tears dampened her face and then the floor.
If only she had fought him off in the beginning. If only she had been more alert while walking home. If only this, if only that; the list could go on and on.
The word “fought” stuck in her mind.
She brought her head up from her legs as an idea made itself known. Her wet eyes crossed the room and stared at the shelves of food and water.
I could fight him off.
This hung in the air as if spoken out loud, waiting for criticisms. None came. Using an object from the shelf as a weapon, or the shelf itself, would give her an advantage Jimmy was not expecting, which meant he would not be prepared for it, which further meant she could easily get the upper hand. All it would take was one good solid blow to the head and Samantha could be free. One hit as he walked through the door and Samantha would be on her way home.
In her mind she saw Jimmy toppling over as the blow knocked all sense from him. She would then run through the door and out into the yard. From there she would get to the road and head home.
HOME.
The word sounded fantastic, unlike anything else she had ever wanted. Never before had it seemed like such a wonderful place. All she had to do was hit him hard enough. Once down Jimmy would have no chance at catching her and she would get home.
What if it doesn’t work?
The question went unanswered. If she thought about failing it would fail, and if she failed the consequences would be far worse than anything her mind could conjure up, of this she was sure.
* * *
When one thought of bullies they often pictured them living in nasty rundown houses or trailers whose outside walls were just a preview for the horrors inflicted upon them within while growing up, something which they were always trying to make up for at school by picking on the weaker kids. This wasn’t the case with Brett Murphy. Instead his house was like all the others in the neighborhood areas of Ashland Creek, alas, a bit worn from the harsh winter, but nowhere near as rundown as Hollywood would have pictured it. To everyone that knew the family too his parents didn’t seem that bad, and in fact, they weren’t. Like most middle class families they had provided Brett and his older brother Brian with a wonderful childhood, one free from the dramas that many unlucky kids faced all across the country. They also had stayed together despite a marital affair that had occurred when Brett was ten. None of it mattered, though, because Brett still had grown up bad, and, judging by the path he was taking, would continue to be bad well into adulthood.
Of course Brett never thought about any of this, nor would he have cared if someone pointed it out to him. In fact, all he cared about at the moment was making Jimmy pay for elbowing him in the gut earlier and now that he had his bike he was pretty sure that outcome would arrive soon. What he wasn’t counting on was it happening so quickly, or that his older brother Brian would side with the two f*ck heads.
It all started the moment Brett pulled into the driveway, parked and started to get the bike out from the backseat - the piece of shit had actually scratched his car while the three had been getting it in, which pissed him off even more.
Brian was sitting on the front porch when Brett pulled up drinking a soda, relaxing after a day spent getting in shape for the military, a career he would be starting in June after having talked to a recruiter in Haddonfield a month earlier - all because the construction company he had been working for ever since he graduated in 2004 had gone bankrupt.
“Where’d you get the bike?” Brian asked once he saw Brett struggling to get it out of the backseat.
“I found it,” Brett said.
“Really?” Brian’s voice was skeptical. “Who did you ‘find it’ from?”
“What do you care?” Brett asked. The bike popped free, the tires bouncing on the ground.
“I really don’t, unless it was ‘found’ from someone who didn’t know they had lost it and might want it back.”
Brett shook his head and started walking the bike toward the house. A second later a car pulled up to the house. Shouts followed.
Brett turned and saw Jimmy and his little brother coming up the driveway, the brother shouting at him to give the bike back.
“Make me!” Brett shouted back at the stupid sophomore.
“Oh we’ll make you you motherf*cker,” the brother said, his pace quickening, fist clenched.
Brett wasn’t sure if he could actually take the two of them by himself and quickly started running with the bike toward the backyard. Once back there he would grab the shovel he knew was lying by the rear of the garage. Brian stopped him before he even made it to the fence gate.
Jimmy and his brother were soon there as well.
“This is your bike?” Brian asked while looking at Jimmy’s brother.
“No, it’s his.” He nodded toward Jimmy.
“The f*ck it is, I found the bike in the woods,” Brett said and tried to jerk the bike away from Brian.
Brian’s grip was too strong and the bike stayed within it.
“After you saw me lean it against the tree to take a piss,” Jimmy said.
“Bullshit. You were nowhere near it, unless you were hiding in the woods because you know you can’t take me in a real fight.”
“I’ll take you right now,” Jimmy said.
“Whoa,” Brian snapped. “No one is taking anyone.” He turned to Brett. “If the bike is his give it back to him.”
“But - ” Brett started.
“I said give it back to him.”
“What’s going on out there?” Brett’s mother echoed from the porch.
“Nothing, Mom,” Brian said. “Just a little high school misunderstanding that is being worked out.” He turned back to Brett. “Right?”
“Fine!” Brett snapped. “I’ll give it back.”
Brian let go of the bike. The moment he did that Brett rammed it into Jimmy’s shins and then tried to jump on him, but tripped over the bike.
“F*cker!” someone shouted and the next thing he knew someone - probably the little brother - was on top of him pressing his face into the grass with both hands.
“Hey, get off him,” Brian snapped.
Brett felt the weight removed from his back. A second later he felt himself being pulled to his feet and yanked away from Jimmy and his little brother. “Stupid idiot, let me go!” Brett snapped.
Brian didn’t and said, “Take your bike and get out of here.” He then pushed Brett to the ground and said, “Don’t you realize you could be arrested for taking his bike like that? What were you thinking?”
Brett didn’t answer him, but not out of defiance. Instead all he could think about was Jimmy and how badly the shithead was going to suffer for this. He was going to get him for embarrassing him in front of his brother. He would make him pay.
* * *
Megan got in an argument with her father during dinner about the Samantha King situation and eventually stormed out of the room. How could he not realize it? Samantha King had been kidnapped. Anyone could see it.
Unfortunately, most in town had not seen it. Megan had realized this at school and that had been part of the reason why she was so pissed off. Everyone just agreed that a kidnapping couldn’t happen in Ashland Creek and that Samantha King had run away. But it simply wasn’t true. She would not have run away.
In the backyard Megan sat on the porch swing and looked out at the surrounding forest wondering if Samantha was out there somewhere? Hadn’t she once heard that most kidnap victims were kept within a few miles of their home?
Most kidnap victims are killed in forty-eight hours.
This thought didn’t settle well in her head. Samantha was her best friend and the thought of her being killed by someone was too much to bear. Not to mention the fact that other terrible things were probably happening as well.
If only her father would do something about it. Then, if Samantha were close by they would find her. What if she was out in the woods at that very moment, tied to a tree or something? Why couldn’t her father just get together a search party and explore a little?
Why couldn’t her father act like a real police officer? Why couldn’t he just investigate a little?
“Megan?” her father called.
“What?” she asked without turning toward him.
Her voice changed his mind and he went back inside. That was fine by Megan. There was no way for her to convince him of what she knew so what was the point in even talking?
Slowly the sun began to set. Megan watched it for twenty minutes before getting up and going inside. Her butt and back hurt where the wooden slats had been pressing into her. She rubbed the indentations away and went up to her room where she grabbed her car keys and then headed out to the driveway. It wasn’t unusual for her to just go for a drive through town without telling anyone, so her parents weren’t too concerned when, for the next hour, they didn’t know where she was. No one thought anything terrible had happened. Terrible things didn’t happen in Ashland Creek. Small towns were perfect.
* * *
Jimmy’s right shin had a nasty gash in it, yet didn’t hurt all that much once the pain of the blow to the bone went away, that was, until he poured peroxide all over it in the bathroom at home. That hurt like a son of a bitch, but then was over as abruptly as it started. Finished with that he and Alan played some Goldeneye battles, all of which Alan dominated.
“Wow, I kicked your ass, just like I started to kick Brett’s ass once he was down on the ground,” Alan said after winning the second game. They had played in a neutral level - neutral meaning neither one had a clear advantage, this one being Facility - and Alan had started out in the bathroom area, which he mined really well and then ventured out in the main areas. Jimmy, whose mind wasn’t really on the game, started on the opposite side of the level and began mining those starting locations, but then ran into one of his own mines killing himself and got thrown into the cycle Alan had created. After that it was one sided for the rest of the game and Jimmy never even came close to beating Alan. “Did you see that dumbass trip over the bike? Man that was priceless.”
Jimmy smiled.
“And that guy that was there. What was that like his brother? Man that guy is cool. He like totally realizes Brett is a loser. Good thing too because he lifted me off him without any trouble and probably could have kicked both our asses if he’d wanted to.”
Jimmy knew that lifting Alan was no easy feat because even though he was only a sophomore he was no lightweight. The two of them worked out together all the time, and while he was no body builder by any stretch of the imagination, he was stronger than most in the school and could handle himself pretty well.
“The only problem now is that I really have to watch my back because he is going to be royally pissed,” Jimmy said.
“Oh, I know,” Alan said.
In the movies bullies would back off once they realized their victims had outgrown them and could stand on their own two feet. Brett wasn’t like that though, and Jimmy doubted most real-life bullies were. No. Rather than seeing this as a fight he couldn’t win, Brett was going to escalate things and would keep escalating them until they got out of control. It was just the way he was. And given how stupid he was he would act without thinking, which could cause a serious problem. Jimmy wouldn’t put it past the guy to ram him with his car when he was on his bike just because he would think it was funny and would not consider the resulting consequences.
“The only way to stop him for good is to beat the living shit out of him to the point where he is hospitalized for a while,” Alan continued. “That would probably teach him a lesson, especially if he had to pay the bill.”
“Maybe, but more likely it would just make him more determined to do something worse, or I would end up in jail for assault,” Jimmy said. “I’m telling you, he’s like one of those dogs that’s too far gone to be redeemed and needs to be put down because he won’t stop biting people to death.”
“Ah man, you just insulted some poor dogs.”
Jimmy smiled.
“Another game?” Alan asked.
“Nah,” Jimmy said with a shake of the head. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”
“Oh, okay. I’d probably just beat you easily again anyway, so for the sake of your ego it’s probably better not to do another round.”
Jimmy laughed and said, “I’ll get you tomorrow.”
“We’ll see,” Alan said while putting the controllers back on the shelf. “We’ll see.”
“Good night.”
“Night.”
Only Jimmy didn’t go to bed. He tried, but thoughts about that nights situation kept him up, as well as thoughts on the entire Samantha King thing, ones which made sleep impossible, especially once the sexual fantasies started. Once that happened he had no choice but to get up and take care of the situation.
* * *
Alan was still awake when Jimmy left around eleven thirty and wondered what he was doing. It was one thing to go riding once or twice a day on the bike, but after eleven at night, and after already riding a few times that day, it started to get weird and was making him think something else was going on. Something that Alan couldn’t even begin to comprehend because Jimmy was so different from everyone else, different to the point where normal teenage activities just didn’t fit with Jimmy.
* * *
Samantha had taken the shelf off the wall and then sat down with it, the long board cradled in her arms ready to be used as a weapon.
The waiting was difficult.
With her back to the wall she listened to every second tick away in her head, knowing that at any moment Jimmy could walk through the door. At that point she would spring up and connect the board with his face and then run like hell.
She slowly drank a bottle of water while waiting and ate several different bags of stale chips and pretzels. The cans of food she left alone because of the risk they had spoiled. What she didn’t know was that the Hood family had been concerned of this as well and had gone about getting foods that wouldn’t spoil, along with military rations of all kinds. Samantha didn’t realize that the small square packages on one of the shelves were the same type of rations soldiers over in Iraq and Afghanistan were consuming, and really she didn’t care. The chips and pretzels were fine and she ate them rapidly to fill her aching stomach.
The worst part of the wait came when she suddenly needed to use the bathroom, and it wasn’t urine that wanted out. The urge hit and there was no denying it, yet she still tried to wait.
Any second Jimmy could walk in and if she wanted to surprise him she could not be squatting over a bucket. But then ten minutes, and then fifteen minutes went by, and the urge became more and more powerful.
If you had gone earlier you would have been finished, she scolded herself. Now if she went there was the likelihood that Jimmy would walk in.
Samantha could not wait, however, and retrieved the bucket. She put it up against the wall where she had been sitting so she could press her back against the concrete as leverage. Leaning against the wall to her right was the board. If Jimmy came in while she was going she would grab it and nail him with it. The fact that she would be naked with stuff coming out of her would have to be ignored. Escaping this situation was too important, and people who saw her running from the Hood place would eventually understand. Actually, being half naked would be better because people would notice her.
Using the bucket as a toilet when she had to pee was disgusting, but mild compared to what she did now. Taking a shit with your back braced against the wall into a bucket was pure humiliation - even when alone.
Jimmy did not enter while she was doing this and she even managed to clean herself off with a rag. Samantha was then back against the wall, waiting, board in hand, bucket as far away as possible.
And then she dozed off.
There had been a ten-minute battle in which her eyes fought to stay open, but in the end they fell shut and her body drifted off into a deep sleep.
She dreamed of Jimmy chasing her. The air was thick and made it difficult to run for her, but not Jimmy and he quickly caught up. And then she was back in the room hanging from her wrists, naked, while Jimmy forced himself into her. His penis then became a knife and suddenly started slicing her body open upward. The sound of skin tearing filled the air.
The sound changed as her eyes opened but did not disappear with the dream. She jerked her head around trying to see where she was but could not focus on anything, her mind confused as to why she wasn’t asleep in her own bed.
The sound grew louder.
Samantha looked to the left.
The door was opening.
Oh shit.
Both hands scrambled to find the shelf board. It was in her lap yet her fingers could not grasp it.
Using the wall, Samantha stood up and let the board flip over into her waiting palms and then took hold of one end. Jimmy entered the room at the same time.
A terrible charley horse lumped up in her left calf and she nearly fell over. At the same time she swung the board in a wide arc toward the door.
Jimmy turned at the sound, his face full of surprise.
In the microsecond before the board struck him in the face, Jimmy fell back and pulled the door halfway shut. The board hit the end of the door and vibrated terribly.
Samantha could no longer hold it as it wobbled and the board went crashing to the floor. As it did, all hope was lost.
NO! her mind cried.
She watched the board falling the way a person would watch a winning lottery ticket go up in flames.
Then Jimmy came in and grabbed her by the throat. Her body was forced back against the wall, her left leg screaming, and her lungs crying out for air.
Jimmy held her like that for several seconds, his face full of fury, his eyes almost turning red, and then threw her across the room.
The strength he had in that one arm was amazing, though Samantha did not appreciate it as her body went tumbling to the ground several feet from him. In fact, she could not think at all because of the terror that held her.
Jimmy was behind her and both arms came down around her chest. The charley horse in her leg was forgotten as he lifted her from the ground and forced her up against the opposite wall.
His breathing was rapid and warm against the side of her neck. She didn’t even try to break free, only wondered to herself what had gone wrong? At this moment she was supposed to be running home, Jimmy lying unconscious - maybe even dead - upon the floor. How had he known?
Tears welled up in her eyes and began to fall.
* * *
Anger overwhelmed Jimmy to the point where he did something he never thought he would ever do, something that he had seen countless times on TV and in bondage videos, but never thought was sexually stimulating, that being to slap a woman across the face. Yet he did it now, and not just once. He slapped Samantha several times while holding her against the wall, both front hand and back hand until his skin hurt, and then dragged her to the overhead pipe, the anger having failed to dissipate and mixing in with the adrenaline that had erupted.
* * *
Samantha cried out as her feet left the ground and all her bodyweight was supported by her thin wrists which the knotted rope was painfully pushing together. Both her hands became fists and her legs kicked about trying to find something - anything - to rest upon. Nothing was there.
Jimmy tied off the rope to the pipe and then walked over to her. Before tying her he had stripped her down to her underwear and now stared at her half-naked body.
She felt his eyes and then his hands on her uplifted breasts. At first they gently caressed them, but then became rough and squeezed.
Samantha tried to squirm out of his grip but it was no use so without thinking she kicked a leg up and connected it with his side. Moments later she would regret it.
Jimmy shouted as the blow landed and let go of her breasts. She still felt his hands upon them, however, and knew there would most likely be bruises in the shape of his fingers in a few hours.
“God,” he said as his hand rubbed where her ankle had connected. They then dropped down to the buckle of his belt and undid it.
“No, I’m sorry,” Samantha gasped; her lips sore from his repeated blows. Even without the pain from her lips talking was difficult when hanging like this, yet her words managed to be loud and audible.
Jimmy didn’t say anything.
Samantha closed her eyes as his hand went back, and prepared herself for the pain.
Nothing happened.
She opened her eyes again.
Jimmy swung the belt toward her. It snapped across the side of her body and danced across her breast.
Glass would have shattered from her scream.
The strike was so powerful that her body started swinging from it.
A line of white-hot sting sprang up across the skin of her midsection.
And then there was another from the other side as he brought his hand back, and then a third right into her stomach. Both hurt as much as the first and she started sobbing while screaming, tears and mucus sliding down her face.
“Only twenty-seven left,” Jimmy said.
Samantha passed out after only eleven.
A few moments later a splash of cold water jolted her back into her terrible situation. Now she was wet and the next nineteen hits stung even more, though, thankfully, they were across her back this time, which wasn’t as bad, though the difference was hardly noticeable while actually being whipped, each blow causing a sharp painful line upon her skin, one which would slowly expand with an strange and unpleasant warm feeling. It was horrible.
When he was finished Samantha could not speak or move. Her body was broken for the moment and she just hung there, tears plastered to her face, sweat to her body. Had he lowered her to her feet she still would have hung there because her legs would not have supported her body above, but that did not happen.
Instead, he came up from behind and pulled back her hair bending her head at an awkward angle.
“Ahh,” she moaned softly and then gagged as something ran down her throat.
“You made a big mistake,” he said, his voice sending shivers through her. “By this time tomorrow your hands will have no life left in them, that is if you don’t pass out and suffocate first.”
Samantha could feel the pressure on her lungs and thought that suffocating would be a blessing. It wouldn’t happen though, not unless weight was added to her feet. It took a lot of pressure to actually suffocate a person like this. So much pressure that the chest would be sucked inward and crush the lungs.
“Please,” she started but could not finish.
Jimmy reached around and took hold of her breasts again while her head sagged forward and squeezed. Samantha hardly noticed.
It had been about ten minutes since she had first been pulled off her feet and already her hands felt useless. There still was a tingle in them though. It was a painful tingle.
The fists she had made upon being pulled off her feet had loosened a little, but not much, her fingers only able to open slightly and with great strain.
Jimmy let go of her breasts and started to walk away. Before leaving he turned and looked at her. His hand then flicked the light switch into the OFF position.
Samantha was left alone in the dark, in a state of constant pain. Each passing second felt like thousands and she could not wait for his return so he would let her down. She would do anything just to feel her feet against the ground. Anything. In the meantime she would spend an eternity hanging from her wrists by a rope that had already torn most of her skin away, each strand feeling as if it were willfully digging deeper and deeper into her flesh.
Her body felt stretched as it hung there and she could not image anything worse than what she was going through. Every moment was noticeable, the ropes and what they caused her body, unrelenting.
* * *
Jimmy put his face in his hands for several seconds while sitting atop the fallout shelter trap door, his mind unable to even comprehend how close he had come to losing Samantha, and thus, his freedom, all because he had tried to be nice. He just couldn’t believe it. How could he do something like that? How could he be so stupid?
Samantha was his prisoner and he her captor and nothing he could do would ever make her view the situation differently. Furthermore he couldn’t allow himself to view it differently, because if he did, he would slip up, and if he slipped up too badly, well, the outcome would not be pleasant.
Self preservation was now the name of the game.
For her as well.
If she tries to be nice to you, it isn’t because she is being generous; it is because she is trying something.
Maybe in time, once she was completely broken to the point of being unable to think of anything but pleasing him things would be different, but right now he had to be careful. One day of standing with her wrists tied over her head wasn’t enough to make her devoted to him. Hell, one week probably wouldn’t be enough.
But by this time tomorrow she will be sorry, which would be a step in the right direction.
Earlier he had developed a soft spot and felt bad for being cruel to her, now that wouldn’t be the case, and any time he felt a soft spot starting to develop he would smother it. The risk of her getting the better of him was just too great. He couldn’t allow it to happen. He couldn’t allow himself to see Samantha as anything more than an object he used for his own pleasure. Two days ago such an idea would have been unthinkable, now it was absolutely necessary. He wasn’t a mean person and hated making people feel bad in normal everyday life, but now he didn’t have a choice, not unless he wanted to spend the rest of his life in jail.
No mercy, ever. If she misbehaves you punish her.
At the moment he had accomplished that and had her in a position that she wouldn’t forget for a long time and would make her regret what she had done.
Jimmy knew this because he had hanged himself from the wrists many times when no one was home, and in the fallout shelter from time to time just to see what it was like, his mind always imagining he was some poor medieval peasant girl locked in a dungeon, hanging from her wrists until she confessed to some trumped-up charge.
It was an incredibly painful position, especially when rope was used and the longest he had ever been able to endure it was ten minutes, and only then on rare occasions, because once he ejaculated, which happened every time even without genital contact, he usually grew weary of the fantasy and let himself down. Sometimes, however, his determination to experience it got the upper hand and he stayed like that for the set time limit, which was always ten minutes because of his fear of getting stuck, which had nearly happened once, his fingers and hands too numb to undo the knots. It had been frightening, especially since his parents would have found him if he hadn’t been able to get free.
Samantha’s been hanging there much longer than ten minutes already, he said to himself, his mind thinking it had to be nearing midnight. And will continue to hang there until tomorrow afternoon.
God, what would that be like? A part of him wanted to feel the experience without the damaging consequences just so he could understand it. Another part couldn’t wait for the time to pass because he wanted to see what she looked like after all of it - her hands especially - and how she felt once she was lowered back to the ground.
These thoughts, mixed in with everything that had happened during the last half hour, caused an erection to build; one which he knew wouldn’t go away.
In his mind he saw himself going home and looking at some computer porn to get rid of it and then taking a shower, but then dismissed the idea because it just didn’t seem all that exciting. Plus he would have to wait for the computer to boot up and then connect to the Internet, and then would get sucked in to a dozen different sites, all of which would cause him to spend hours online which meant he would never get to sleep.
You could f*ck Samantha.
The idea stuck and even though he wouldn’t be tall enough to reach her p-ssy with his dick he knew he could move some of the giant containers down there and stand on them. That would get him high enough for sure.
What if she has an STD?
The thought chilled him to the core, especially since he didn’t have any condoms.
What are the chances a high school senior has something?
Jimmy didn’t know the statistics on this, but knew the rate was growing and that there was a chance she had something.
At the same time he really wanted to know how it felt to have his penis up inside someone, though not as much as he desired the feel of having a mouth around it.
At least you won’t have to worry about taking care of a baby if you get her pregnant.
Jimmy smiled at the thought as he considered his options, his mind marveling at the fact that he had just eliminated one of the greatest of all the high school fears. However, it also made him admit the fact that he was never going to let Samantha go and that in all honesty she would die at some point, his own hands being responsible.
To his surprise the thought didn’t upset him all that much even though he didn’t like to think of himself as a killer. In fact, it brought to mind something he had seen in the past that he was curious about, something that also sexually stimulated him at times though wasn’t something he had ever dreamt he would truly get to see.
His hand started rubbing his penis through his pants. A few seconds later he went back into the fallout shelter, the words, “Let me down, please,” greeting him and causing his erection to thump even more.