Helpless Victim

He was known as the Night Predator, preying upon women for his own sexual deeds. For the past two months he had sexually assaulted three women, all of which identified him as a tall man wearing a ski mask and holding a big knife. He had no prior arrests so the DNA he left behind didn't match anything on record. The police were left with questions and no answers in solving any of his crimes. On this particular evening he was all set for the next intended victim he already had his eye on. The fact that it was dark and in a quiet neighborhood gave him the advantage.

He hid in the bushes, putting his ski mask on, and waiting on the young lady approaching her home after a nightly jog. Once she unlocked her door, he made his move, placing his knife near her throat, letting her know how serious he was.

"Don't make a sound," he said. "You scream and I'll kill you. You disobey me and I'll kill you."

"W-What do you want?" She asked.

"We're going to have some fun. Now get inside."

He dragged her inside, throwing her down on the carpeted floor while locking up the door behind him.

"Please, don't hurt me," she said, crawling her way towards the fireplace.

"You do what I say," he said, "and I won't have to. The sooner we do this, the quicker I go."

While he kept talking she scooped up a handful of ashes from the fireplace. She had no intention in being his victim despite the threats on her life.

"Now get up," he said, "and don't try anything stupid or I will gut you like a fish."

When she refused to do so he grew upset and pulled her up. While on her feet she threw the ashes straight into his unprotected eyes, leaving him blinded and in a rage.

"You bitch!" He screamed, struggling to clear his eyes, getting a taste of the ash in his mouth that was so unpleasant. "I'm going to fucking kill you! You hear me?"

The young lady picked up a poker near the fireplace, whacking him across his forehead and knocking him unconscious.

Hours later when he came to, his surroundings were dark and dingy with just a little sunlight peeking through the windows. Dust and cobwebs decorated the room along with a covered up mirror, old boxes, broken toys, and three old mannequins that looked as though they were watching him. The last thing he remembered was going after his next victim who just happened to fight back, leaving him to wonder what went wrong.

"Hello?" He said. "Where am I?"

That's when he realized he couldn't move. He was zipped up in an old and torn up sleeping bag. He could get himself out so easily, but the problem was he couldn't feel his arms or his hands. What exactly did his intended victim do to him? Did she crippled him during the melee?

Behind him were the sound of footsteps and some tune being whistled that he found annoying. The young lady appeared before him holding his wallet and twirling the ski mask through one of the eye holes.

"What the hell's going on?" He asked. "Where am I?"

"First," she said, pulling the ID out of his wallet, "let's find out who you are, shall we?"

"That's mine; give that back."

"William Winchester," said the young lady, reading his ID out loud, "it says here you're from out of town. You on vacation, Mister Winchester?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm Laura by the way, and you, you're that sicko who's been placing his dirty disgusting dick into helpless young ladies. Heard about you on the news; you've become very popular. Your mask and knife gave you away so it wasn't hard to put two and two together. Are you that lonely and horny? Is that the reason why you do all that?"

"So what if I did? What are you going to do about it?"

"Didn't your mama ever teach you how to treat a lady?"

"I never had a mama."

"What about your daddy?"

"None of your fucking business."

"That's too bad."

"Where the fuck am I and why can't I move?"

"You're in what appears to be an attic. Yeah, it's dusty and could use a good sweeping, but I just didn't have the time. Why you can't move? I did something to ease the pain; no big deal."

The only pain he felt was from the blow inflicted upon his head and the taste of ash lingering in his mouth.

"Sorry for giving you a headache but you left me no choice. Let me know if you need an aspirin."

"What do you want from me?" William asked.

"What do you want? Laura asked.

"What I want?"

"I want to know what you want."

"What I want to do is kill you. Before I leave I will eviscerate your ass and I want to hear you beg for mercy. How's that?"

"Why would you do that? You didn't do that to your other victims. Why did you let them live?"

"I'm not a killer."

"But you're still a monster and for what? Is it because you have a limp dick and you want women to be amazed? You do know sexual assault is a crime, don't you? How long did you intend to do this? Do you know what they do to people like you in prison? So many dicks to choose from; all shapes, sizes, and colors. Your ass would be in so much agony you won't be able to sit for a whole year."

"I ain't going to prison."

"I could call the police and have you arrested."

"If you wanted to, you would have done it already. So what's stopping you? Am I your prisoner?"

"You're my guest, for now."

William had no idea what she had in mind or what she planned to do with him. As far as he was concerned he was her prisoner and he wasn't planning on letting her get away with it.

"Laura," he said, "if that is your real name, why am I in a sleeping bag? Afraid I might get away or that I will kill you? You know I'm going to kill you before the night is done."

"Oh, I believe you, Willie," said Laura. "It's in your nature to dominate women and treat them like trash. You do know without women you wouldn't even be born. Do you ever regret being born? Is this your way in getting back at women?"

"What are you, a fucking shrink?"

"Just curious. I want to know."

"Because I'm a man, and a man has needs."

"Women have needs, too, but we don't go around forcing men to have sex with us."

"All of you are sluts anyway. Every one of you just beg for it."

"Am I a slut? Do I look and smell like one?"

"You're all alike and don't know it yet."

"So I guess all men are perverts and scumbags; you included."

"Get me out of here!"

Even though his eagerness to finish what he started grew, Laura continued toying with him a bit more. Perhaps she did contact the police and was keeping him company until they arrived. No matter how hard he struggled, William was unable to break out of his predicament.

"Are you mad at me?" Laura asked. "Did I hurt your feelings in some way? Why would you come after me?"

"Stop the bullshit," said William. "Let me out of here and maybe I'll let you live."

"Which is it, Willie? Do you want to kill me or let me live? Maybe we should flip a coin and decide. What do you think?"

"Laura, do yourself a favor and shut up."

"You want to make me? Do you want to cut my tongue off?"

"Don't tempt me."

"You have anger issues and problems with women. Not exactly a great combo or a good look for you. Maybe we can change all that."

If only he could reach out and grab her if not for the state he's in. What puzzled William was why all the talk? Why was she stalling for time?

"Let me out of this bag," he said. "Let me fucking out now!"

"Where would you go?" Laura asked. "Are you going straight home like a good little boy or are you going to kill me first, then go home?"

"Why do you fucking care where I go?"

"Just curious."

"Stop saying that. I've had enough of your games, now let me the hell out."

"I'm afraid I can not allow that."

"Really? How are you going to stop me?"

"I can't let you go. That would be so wrong."

"What are you talking about? Why are you boring me with all your bullshit? I should have been home in bed already."

"Well, you have a new home now and in time...you may learn to love it."

William rolled his eyes back in frustration, not wanting to hear any more words coming out of Laura's mouth. All he could think of was strangling her, feeling her life slipping away on his fingertips.

"I'm warning you for the last time," he said, "unzip the bag and let me go."

"But we have so much to talk about," said Laura. "Don't you want to get to know me better? That's why you're here, isn't it?"

"I'm done talking, bitch."

"Your rudeness boggles the mind. Can I ask a question? Just one little question."

William's frustrations grew even further, and since he was stuck he had no choice but to let Laura ask whatever question she had in mind.

"You ever heard of Boxing Helena?"

"Who?"

"Boxing Helena."

"Now you want to talk about boxing?"

Laura chuckled over William's response while he remained on his back, unable to understand the joke in all this.

"What the fuck is so funny?" He asked, while Laura laughed uncontrollably. "I might have seen a few fights back in the day but not lately."

"Oh, that was nice", said Laura, struggling to contain her laughter. "I haven't laughed like that in a long time. I feel so much better. No, Boxing Helena is not about boxing. It's a weird little movie about this guy who's obsessed with one woman and decides to keep her by any means necessary."

"What?" Said William.

"Doesn't ring any bells? I guess you're not into those kinds of films. Maybe it's best if I showed you. Don't go anywhere."

Laura positioned the covered up mirror near her captor. On her knees she unzipped the sleeping bag, giving him the breathing room he so desired, despite the fact he still couldn't feel certain parts of his body.

"You're letting me go?" William asked. "Do you want me to give you a ten minute head start before I end you?"

"Billy," said Laura, "I won't need even a ten second head start. You don't have that amount of time to give anyway."

"I'm going to enjoy putting my hands around your throat. You hear me?"

"I'm afraid that could be a problem."

"Yeah, why is that?"

His question would soon be answered once Laura uncovered the mirror, allowing all that dust to come down upon his body like it was snow. Once William looked into the mirror, staring deep into his reflection, he could not believe what he saw before him. It seemed impossible that what he was looking at was real.

"What the fuck?" He asked. "What the fuck did you do? What the fuck did you do?"

Where his arms and legs used to be were now heavily taped stumps. William now knew why he couldn't feel his hands or fingers to begin with, discovering why he couldn't break free on his own.

"You know," said Laura, "it wasn't easy chopping through bone and flesh with a meat cleaver; very exhausting work. I should have been a butcher."

With William knocked out, Laura eased his pain by pumping him full of drugs, putting him in a deep sleep while she amputated his limbs, making a huge mess in the kitchen.

"But, it was all worth it," she said.

"Worth it?" William asked. "What do you mean worth it? Look what you did to me."

"I've been screwed over by men for far too long. They've lied to me, cheated on me, make excuses on where they go at night, and all that tiresome shit. But I taught them all a lesson; they learned the hard way. Then one night I saw Boxing Helena and I was inspired. Why kill a man when you can have some real fun with him?"

"Help! Somebody help me!"

"Really, you're playing the helpless victim now? That's rich coming from you. How many women screamed before you put your hands on them? Now, you have no hands so you won't be touching anyone ever again."

"You sick fuck! You sick motherfucker! You can't do this!"

"Yes, I can, and I did. Get comfy, Willie, you and I are going to spend some quality time together."

"You won't get away with this. Where you going? Come back here!"

"Hang tight, Willie. I'll see you later."

"No! Come back here! Fuck you! No! I'll fucking kill you!"

William screamed continuously until his throat felt raw, experiencing the pain and fear his victims felt. Like them no one would hear his cries for help or come to his rescue.

Laura was a woman scorned who had had enough. Any man who had screwed her over in the past ended up dead or vanished from the face of the earth. However, William would not be so lucky, becoming the victim of the wrong place at the wrong time. For days he was kept in the attic, doing nothing but stare into the cobwebbed ceiling and the mannequins looking down upon him.

"What are you looking at?" Said William, expecting a response. "Fuck you."

One day Laura fed him some oatmeal and he spat it out, refusing to eat. William would rather have a steak dinner with all the trimmings instead, but those days going to restaurants seemed over. He never liked the taste of oatmeal; even when he was a kid.

"Fuck you," he said.

"I could force feed you if you like," said Laura. "Hold your nose and mouth until you swallow."

"Fuck you and your oatmeal."

"You know I was thinking, since you're now living with me you need a new name. William is not a good name for any pet. It doesn't click."

"I ain't your pet and I'm not changing my name for anyone."

"Let's see. Well, Fido and Spike have been used to death so that's out."

All William wanted was to reach out and grab her, but the stump where his arm used to be reminded him it was impossible.

"I got it," said Laura, snapping her fingers, "it's perfect. From now on your name is...Meat."

"What?" Said William, feeling insulted and disgusted at the same time.

"Fetch, Meat. Go get 'em, Meat. Sick 'em, Meat. I like it."

"You're out of your fucking mind."

"Now it's your turn."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're going to tell me your new name, and if I'm satisfied I'll give you something other than oatmeal. Let's begin, shall we? Tell me, what is your name?"

"Fuck you."

"What is your name?"

"I told you, fuck you."

"What is your name?"

"Go fuck yourself."

Laura repeated the question but William would not give in. All she did was make him more upset than before, with more thoughts on how he wants to kill her. Every day and night whenever she fed him the question would constantly be brought up. Again he wouldn't give in to her. For the next three days Laura punished William by not feeding him at all, leaving his stomach empty and rumbling for nourishment. His best bet was to starve to death and that would be the end of it.

His was left all alone without any contact from Laura. The mannequins were the only things keeping him company, with their unchanged facial expressions. The blank stares from each were disturbing to look at all day and all night. One night while he slept, William woke up to what he thought was a woman's voice calling out to him.

"William," the voice said. "William."

He assumed it was Laura taunting him, but when he woke up she was nowhere to be seen.

"William," the voice said.

"Who's there?" William asked. "Who the fuck is there?"

"William. Oh, William."

"Is that you, bitch?"

"William."

"Where are you? You hiding from me? Answer me you sick fuck!"

"Over here."

"Where? Where are you?"

"Over here. Over here."

The voice repeated the words over and over until William saw exactly where it came from. One of the mannequins resembled his first victim; a seventeen year old who walked the street alone on her way to a friend's house.

"Don't scream, bitch," she said.

"No," said William, "you're not here."

"Don't scream, bitch."

"Shut up."

"Do as I say," said another voice.

The next mannequin resembled victim number two; a forty year old doctor whom he attacked in her own home in a small neighborhood similar to this one.

"Do as I say," she said, "or you'll die."

"No," said William, "you're not real. Leave me alone."

"You're mine now," said another.

The third mannequin resembled his last victim; a nineteen year old college student with long blond hair.

"No," said William, "this isn't happening. Neither of you are real."

All three women repeated the exact same words over and over, leaving him unable to cover his ears. He hoped it was all a bad dream but couldn't avoid those haunting voices now stuck in his mind.

"Meat," they all said together. "Dead meat. Meat. Meat. Meat."

"Shut up!" He cried. "Leave me alone!"

He begged and cried to them but the voices would not stop no matter how hard he tried. He was in a life long prison of insanity with no chance of ever escaping.

After three days Laura returned and fed him warm oatmeal once again. William started the day barely saying a word to her. He just laid there staring at the cobwebbed ceiling with a single tear coming down his cheek.

"You know," said Laura, finishing up, "it's time we tried again. I'm giving you another chance in telling me your name. So, are you ready?"

William remained silent throughout the conversation; barely a whisper came out of his mouth.

"Tell me your name."

Laura kicked him in the thigh to get a word out of his mouth but he still would not respond.

"What is your name?" Said Laura. "Come on, you can say it. I want to hear you say it. Your name is Meat. Say it."

Laura continued the abuse from his thigh to his rib cage, making him puke the oatmeal she just fed him.

"Say it!" Laura screamed. "Say it! What is your name? What is your name? Tell me who you are! What is your name?"

William still would not give her a response. Laura grew frustrated and ceased her abuse, receiving the warm stench of vomit up her nose for her troubles.

"Well," she said, "we have all the time in the world, so I'll give you a break for now. You will tell me your name and you will accept it like a good little dog."

Before Laura took a step towards the ladder, she heard something that caught her attention. For the moment she thought it was her imagination until she heard it again.

"Me...at."

"Did you say something?" She asked.

"Me...at."

With saliva drooling from the corners of his mouth, William spoke repeating what he was told to say. Laura needed to hear it loud and clear before she was fully convinced.

"I can't hear you," she said. "What did you say?"

"Me...at," said William.

"Me who?"

"Me...at."

"You have to do better than that. Tell me, what is your name?"

"Mmeat. Meat."

"Say it."

"Meat. My name is...Meat."

William repeated his new name until Laura was fully satisfied and giddy as a schoolgirl.

"That's a good boy," she said. "That's a very good boy."

"My name is Meat. My name is Meat."

William Winchester was dead and the Night Predator died with him, never to be found or caught. Now he was nothing more but a play thing for Laura to keep from being lonely. Many days had turned to weeks, weeks turned to months and the Night Predator would be long forgotten. Soon after it became years and no matter how old they got, the only thing they had was each other.