Rebecca walked briskly down the hallway of the Chance Motel toward room 461. She had gotten the voicemail demanding she meet him here at 4:30 p.m. when she had finished work for the day. She especially couldn't understand why he asked to meet her in a dive like this. As a prosecutor, she tried to keep away from any and all things that could in any way damage her career as the D.A.'s up and coming new attorney mastermind and this place had scandal written all over it. The Chance Motel was known for renting rooms on an hourly basis and she had recognized a few girls in the lobby that she knew were working the streets after having assisted on a case where one of them testified against a big time pimp in exchange for immunity on two previous counts of prostitution.
She finally came around a corner and saw the gold plate marking room 461. Reaching into her jacket pocket, she removed the electromagnetic key card she'd gotten from the man at the desk. Rebecca straightened her shoulders, mentally and physically preparing herself to face the encounter ahead, and came up close to the door to slide the card through the slot.
The door opened into darkness. No lights were on and the drapes were shut leaving the room lit only by the minute amount of light from the hallway. Immediately, the hair on the back of her neck raised, and her gut instinct went on high alert. She started to back out of the room when someone with a black face mask on, grabbed her arm from where it had been holding onto the door and yanked her into the darkened room. She was pushed up against the mirror of the closet by the attacker's body, at which point she realized first, her attacker was male, and second, realized that she had a very small window to struggle before he would physically overwhelm her. He felt like muscled steel pressing her into the cool glass of the mirror. She started thrashing, throwing elbows and attempting to slam the heel of her shoes into any part of his body that she could reach. After a few seconds, she realized that the son of a bitch was enjoying her attempts to free herself and it set off more than just her instinct to flee, she got royally pissed. She managed to reach back and grab a handful of hair and she pulled hard.
"Fuck!" The man reached for her wrist and immediately forced her let go of his hair by pressing on a pressure point. She'd blown her chance to escape. Her assailant must have gotten serious about his business with her because she heard the door slam and saw the light disappear.
He lifted Rebecca over his shoulder and walked the few steps to the bed and threw her down. She had only a moment to inhale before he pulled her hands toward the headboard and secured them with a piece of fabric. Rebecca began to resist again but it was no use. After what seemed like little effort on his part to control her flailing legs, her feet were tied together. As the man got off the bed and turned to get something off the bedside table, Rebecca took a moment to look at the fabric used on her feet and hands. It was velvet. Rebecca couldn't get the weird feeling out of her system. She stopped struggling, trying to understand why someone would use velvet to restrain someone unless it was sexual in nature.
