She wanted to die, without him her life felt black and gray, like the sky. She sat in her little house looking out at the rain as it left icy trails down her window. She thought the tears on her face must look just like that, cold, wet rivers of pain. She wished someone would come and rescue her from herself. Rescue her from those dark feelings that invaded her head like parasites. She needed to be beaten, to be abused and hurt for the bad things she'd done and said to him. But it was too late for even that, he had had enough, he was done with her and her monthly tantrums that came as rhythmically as the tides and the phases of the moon. It had always been that way, she had known that, but she'd let down her guard and the blackness had come before she'd been ready. It overtook her, and she, in turn, overtook everything in her path, leaving behind destruction and the rubble of a once happy relationship. You'd think after all the years she'd been through this scenario that she'd learn to watch for it and compensate or at least isolate herself during those times, but she hadn't. She understood why some cultures would have the women removed from their homes during their cycles, it was for the best. She had unleashed the fury and ruined her life...or so it felt.
She took the gun from it's brown leather case, just holding it on her lap, not opening it just yet. She rocked in the chair with it, as if it held all her answers, and she felt her mind slip into the darkness once again, leaving behind thoughts of those who loved her. She couldn't feel it, that love that other's professed, the lack of His overshadowed any other. She undid the gold hooked clasp and lifted the lid on the leather case, closing her hand around the handle of the gun, feeling it's coldness. As she raised it to her head, it felt very heavy, she felt weak, hardly able to bring it up to the level of her temple, but she managed. Still, she rocked in the chair, mesmerized by the continuing rain on the window, her mind blank of all other thoughts, except of Him. She had loved Him so, but she had destroyed His love with her own inability to control her emotions, once again. She slid her finger over the trigger, hand shaking with the strain of holding the heavy gun to her head, and she whispered softly, "I love You...still," and she squeezed the trigger.
Click!...nothing, it wasn't loaded. "Well what the hell?" she said aloud this time. "He always kept this fucking thing loaded!" Now she was pissed, she threw the gun across the room, sending it crashing into the framed mirror with the deer etchings on the wall. It crashed to the floor, shattering into a hundred little pieces.
"What the fuck am I doing?" she thought to herself. "This is crazy, I have to get out of this house or I am going to really do something crazy here. I've been depressed before, but this is taking it to new heights."
Determined to wage war on the beast that resided within her, she went to her bedroom, ignoring the mess on the floor for now. She didn't care if the whole house burned down around her, she was going to beat this devil that lived in her head one way or the other. "Fuck it! I am going to go DO something, I don't know just what, but I am out of here!" She changed into her little green slut dress, as she called it, no bra, no panties, stepped into some sandals and went into the bathroom to put on some makeup. She applied more than she'd ever worn before, using the red lipstick that she'd bought and never used. She stuffed some money into her purse randomly, and headed for the car. She didn't see the man in the shadows, as he stood casually tossing up the bullets in his hand and watching her.
She drove downtown, parking her car half hazardly in an alley way, and walked into the dimly lit bar from the back door. She'd been here years before when she was younger, and remembered it to be a fun place, a pick up bar really, a place to get drunk and meet men. She ignored the stares as she headed for the bar, slinging her leather purse onto the bar, not caring that it sat in a wet area the bartender had just washed off with his dingy rag.
"Give me a martini, gin, no vermouth, an olive, on the rocks," she said to the bartender. "Yes Ma'am," he replied, not liking the tone of superiority she used with him. "Another spoiled bitch," he thought to himself, as he poured the cheap bar gin into a glass for her. He sat the glass in front of her and she picked it up and downed half of it in one swallow. "Wow," the greasy little bartender muttered. "You got a problem with that???" she asked him, and she downed the rest of the gin in the second swallow. "No Ma'am," he muttered to her again. "Get me another!" she commanded him, and he immediately obeyed her command and retrieved another drink for her. This time she tossed some bills onto the bar, and turned away, sipping her drink and looking around the bar. Several business men sat at a table, eyeing her approvingly. She glared at them, silently daring them to approach her. She'd cut them off at the knees with her wicked tongue in the beat of a heart. They couldn't hold her gaze and turned away. She was a psycho bitch from hell this night and she knew it. She finished her drink and thought better of staying, picking up her purse and heading out the door. There was no one there that interested her even remotely, and she'd decided to go somewhere else. She was restless, and she'd give in to that feeling on this night, following her whims as if she were a she-wolf crazy with the full moon.
Just as she reached her car and attempted to place the keys in the lock she felt a large, strong hand close over her mouth from behind. She responded instinctually, biting down on the fleshy part of the palm that cut off her air supply, tasting blood. "You fucking bitch!" She heard an unfamiliar, deep voice growl in her ear, then total darkness as a black cloth was tied tightly across her eyes and her hands were drawn behind her back and cold, metal handcuffs clasped onto her wrists roughly. The hand was removed, quickly being replaced by a bitter, rubber gag that was thrust between her teeth, making her gag with the taste of it. She choked a few times, and then settled a bit as she realized she could breathe through a small hole in the ball gag. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. She was afraid, very, very afraid. "How can this be?" she thought to herself. "An hour ago I was sitting in my kitchen with a gun to my head, and now I'm about to die at the hands of strangers..." She realized she'd been very foolish, very foolish indeed. She didn't want to die, she wanted to live and she wanted to fight these bastards who had taken her.
She was roughly thrown into the backseat of a car, her dress sliding up fully exposing her hip and buttocks as she laid on her side on the cheap plastic of the back seat. "Look at that!" one of the kidnappers laughed at her predicament. "She is one hot bitch, no wonder He wants her," and he slid his hand up her calf, feeling her soft skin. She shuddered at his touch, and felt the bile rise in her throat once again. She could smell the sweat and the alcohol emanating off these men, and it made her ill. "Don't touch her you asshole! You know what He said, if we touch her, we die."
"Well, thank God for that," she thought to herself. She didn't know who He was, but at least her fate didn't rest in these two cretins' hands. She heard the front doors of the car close, the motor started and they began driving off with their captive beauty fully restrained in the back seat. She laid with her cheek against the seat, smelling the exhaust from the car as it leaked into the area she was held. She could still smell the sweat of the two disgusting men, but the taste of her fear far outweighed the nauseating scent of them. She moaned a few times against the gag, but couldn't form any words as it was a rather large rubber ball gag, and her jaw ached with the extension. "Shut up bitch. We aren't going to hurt you. We're just taking you to someone who WILL," and both the disgusting men laughed with that comment.
The car finally came to a stop, she had no idea where they were or how far they had come, and she never saw the car that followed a discreet distance behind. The blindfold was still firmly in place, and her hands remained bound behind her back. She felt the cool evening air as she was roughly pulled from the backseat by a pair of strong hands. She stood on her feet a bit unsteady, and she felt the other pair of hands reach out to steady her. "Whoa there girl, we don't want damaged merchandise now," and his hands slid slowly down her arm, sending little chills of revulsion to her center. "Come on, let's get her delivered so we can get paid," the other man said and he pulled her along. He guided her up several steps and through a door.
"Ahhhh, I see our little prize has arrived. And quite intact as agreed. Here is your money gentleman, now you may exit immediately please," she heard an unfamiliar, very deep voice with an English accent in front of her. The men concluded their business and left, leaving her with a new predicament to deal with.
"Very beautiful indeed. I can see why we go to such trouble for you my dear," the English gentleman said, as if to himself.
What was he talking about? She was very confused, and very frightened. Who was "we?" And why had they brought her here? She moaned against the gag.
"Be patient darling, all in good time," he responded to her struggles. She felt something cold being pulled tightly around her neck and fastened in the back. Then something clicked onto it, and she felt a tug at her neck. "Be a good girl and follow me now," he ordered. She stood still, not moving, until she felt a sharper tug at her neck and she tentatively took a step forward. "Better," he encouraged her, and she followed him blindly being led by the neck on a leash as if she were a dog. She stumbled a few times as he led her down a long corridor, but was able to keep up with his fast pace by the tugging she felt at her neck. She bumped into him when he stopped at the entrance to a large, darkly paneled room. He steadied her with his firm hand and stepped into the room.
"Master, your guest has arrived," the Englishman said to an unknown presence in the room.
"So," she thought to herself, "the Englishman is NOT the man I will deal with. Then whom will it be?" She was soon to find out.
"Thank you," she heard His voice for the first time. It was unfamiliar to her, but there was no mistaking who was in charge here. His tone was very commanding and very deep. "Remove the ball gag William."
The Englishman obeyed at once, "Yes Sir," and he undid the strap behind her head, gently removing the gag from her mouth. She flexed her jaw for a moment and took in a large deep breath. "What the fuck is going on here? Why am I here, and what are you going to do with me you sleazy bastards??!!"
The Man completely ignored her tirade, and calmly said, "I can see why you need my help. She is like a wild, untamed bitch in heat. But we will tame her for you, in time." She thought he spoke to William, but there was another presence in the room, she just didn't know who it was...yet.
"WHO ARE YOU?" she screamed at The Man.
