Jacqueline 1

*

Darkness.

Total darkness. The only sound is that of her own breathing. How long has she been laying here? There is no way to know. In here there is no time, only darkness. Now a faint, low sound, very faint, distant. Music? She pulls herself up a little with her arms and pain shoots down her wrists. Thick warm liquid is now slowly running down her forearm. Blood. The handcuffs have reopened a wound in her wrist. A beat, clearer now, closer.

Panic.

It comes on slowly, then moves in with lightning speed to take complete control of her mind. Her heart is now racing. Her breathing, dangerously hard. The sound, music, louder now, closer.

Closer.

Yes, definitely closer. The panic is becoming terror. The only thing worse than this complete and total darkness is the man coming for her now. A hundred years of this darkness would be better than facing him.

Click.

The door. It

is

him, turning the locks on the door. A vertical ray of light cuts the darkness as the door slowly opens.

Moonlight.

It is night. A silhouette now stands in the doorway, a long dark figure holding a handled box in its left hand and a long cylindrical object in its right. He turns on the flashlight and shines it on her face. The light is blinding, she squints and turns her head left and right, trying to avoid the painful brightness.

The music, now very clear...

I'm just standing in a doorway

I'm just trying to make some sense

The man enters, walks to the center of the room and pulls the short chain to the light bulb in the ceiling. Warm, Red light now fills the room. After sitting the large radio on a chair he closes and bolts the door, then walks to the foot of the bed where he now stands, watching her. She is laying, hand cuffed to a metal-framed bed. Aside from a chair and a small bedside table, this is the only piece of furniture in the room. She is wearing only a white t-shirt, now ripped and stained with blood. Her body is bruised and deep cuts line her wrists and ankles from the cuffs. Her hair is dirty and sticky with semen. A bottom few inches of her shirt has been ripped off and tied around her head making a gag. There are no windows in this room; the door is the only way in or out. The walls, filthy and cracked, seem to have been painted black many years ago.

The Stones.

The music, it's the fucking Rolling Stones.

The man is watching her, he begins to smile...

A smile relieves a heart that grieves

Remember what I said

The man is beginning to laugh...

I'm not waiting on a lady

I'm just waiting on a friend

His laughter is unbearable. He walks to the chair and hits a button on top of the radio. The music is silenced; the tape flops out. Taking the cassette tape, he pulls a roll of duct tape from a small drawer of the bedside table. He pulls a hunting knife from a sheath on his belt and cuts the woman's gag from her face. She immediately begins to scream, but the man quickly shoves the cassette in her mouth and wraps duct tape around her head several times, sealing her mouth shut. He now takes a key from his pocket and unlocks the cuffs on her ankles. She begins kicking and bucking violently. He holds her legs together long enough to wrap duct tape around her ankles several times, then flips her over on her stomach with her arms crossed above her head. He pulls his pants down, and then straddling her legs, enters her ass. Slamming into her. She bites down hard, breaking the cassette into pieces. Her mouth begins to fill with blood. The man continues slamming into her, tearing her apart.

Pain.

The horrendous pain, the taste of blood, the terror. Unbearable. The salvation of darkness creeps in, thank God. The man leans in close and whispers in her ear, "Jacqueline."

She passes out.

*

Darkness.

He knows my name. I open my eyes to darkness, but not like before. Now I can make out the shapes of my own bedroom from the faint glow of the alarm clock. I look at the clock, but It's LED numbers are just a red blur. Leaning in closer I can make out the time, 4:30 AM. The woman in my dream is dying. I don't know her but I've dreamt of her every night for nearly a month. I was there from the beginning. I was with her that first night, the night she met him. I was with her when he took her to that place, a building in the woods behind his house. And I was with her when she was beaten, tortured, raped, and told she was going to die.

Every night I go to sleep, and every night she wakes up. I tell myself these dreams are a product my own perversions, nothing more than a subconscious depiction of my own guilt and fear, but I know better. His psychological and physical torture is beyond anything I could imagine. No, this beautiful, terrified woman in my dreams is real. The monster that's killing her is real, and he knows my name.

*

Burning.

Something is burning. Slowly, she opens her eyes, and sees the man sitting in the chair, smoking a cigarette, watching her. The pain she now feels in her bowels is even worse than the pain in her wrists. The cassette tape is no longer in her mouth and the tape has been cut off her face, but she is too tired to scream. He sits under the red light smoking...watching. "I have something special for you." He says. "Are you going to be a good girl?" The throbbing pain and the taste of blood is going to make her vomit. She lifts her head up a little. "Please. Please let me go. Please." These are the first words she has been allowed to speak in days. The words are weak and pitiful. "Oh come now, is that the best you can do? I thought we had gotten past this. When I want you to beg, you'll beg. Right now I want a good girl. Are you going to be a good girl?" He stands up and walks over to the bed. "Yes. Yes, please I'll be good, I'll do whatever you want, just please don't hurt me anymore." He smiles at her. "Good."

Good.

He takes the key from his pocket, unlocks the cuffs on her wrists and ankles, and sits her up against the headboard. She now notices a television and VCR sitting on a small round table at the foot of the bed. He turns the TV on and hits play on the VCR. He sits down in the chair. "Oh my, I've forgotten the popcorn." She watches him get up and walk to the door, undo the locks, and leave. He hasn't bothered to lock it back.

Static.

She is beginning to think nothing is on the tape but static when the video starts. She watches, and realizing it's more torture, begins to cry. It's her on the tape. A very low quality recording of her, unconscious, tied up in a chair. She is wearing a white wedding dress and a veil. The man walks into view and kneels down next to her on one knee. He holds her left hand up and places a ring on her finger. He looks at the camera. "Do you Jacqueline, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband for the short time you have left to live?" He grabs a handful of hair and shakes her head up and down. He stands up next to her and pulls back her veil. He pulls his pants down and slaps her face with his cock several times, then after forcing her lips open with his fingers, urinates in her mouth. He kneels back down on one knee and begins singing to the camera.

Stars shining bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper I love you

Birds singin' in the sycamore tree

Dream a little dream of me

"How do you like it baby?" He slaps her hard across the face.

Say nighty-night and kiss me

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me

While I'm alone and blue as can be

Dream a little dream of me

He grabs her head again and uses his fingers to make her lips move. She is now singing like a ventriloquist's dummy.

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you

Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you

But in your dreams whatever they be

Dream a little dream of me

Torture.

She's been watching herself through tears, now she holds her face in her hands and cries loudly. She looks up at the door. He's left her un-cuffed with the door unlocked. "Forget it." She hears a voice say, it's her own voice, but she's said nothing. She looks at the television horrified. Her face now fills the screen. "Forget it dear, he knows you're too tired to run. It's just more torture, trying to give you hope, it makes you more fun to play with. He wants you to be a good girl. Are you going to be a good girl?"

Static

She hears noise, more static, this time from outside. He's coming back. As the sound draws nearer she realizes there are voices in the static. "Here he comes dear" she is taunting herself from the television. "Are you going to show him that you can be a good girl, or are you ready to die?" The noise is now very close, it sounds like a walkie-talkie. Suddenly she hears a loud knock on the door. "Hello is anyone in there? Open up this is the police!" She begins screaming as the door flies open. An officer quickly enters the room with his gun drawn. She falls out of bed and lays curled up on the floor screaming. "Is anyone with you?" the officer asks. "Is anyone else here?" All she can do is scream. "Are you okay ma'am?" She rolls over on her side and vomits. "Is anyone else here with you?" Between coughs she manages to whisper, "I don't think so." The officer looks frantically around the room and moves closer to the woman on the floor. "What's that ma'am?" She is now on her hands and knees facing the floor with blood hanging from her lips. "I don't think so." a little louder this time. The officer leans over her body "Are you okay ma'am?" "No." she answers. "Well," the officer says, "I think I've got something to fix you right up." Slowly she lifts her head and stairs in horror at the man in the police uniform faking a southern accent. He is smiling.

No.

She no longer has the strength to hold herself up and collapses on the floor. "No! No! Oh God no! This can't be happening!" She is crying and beating the floor with her hands. "Oh yes it is!" She hears herself yell from the television. "It's happening alright! Now you stupid bitch, you'll be a good girl for us. You'll be a good girl for the

box

!" The woman on the floor begins to scream, a blood curdling scream, shrieking and beating her fists on the floor. "NO! NO! NO! NOT THE BOX! PLEASE JUST LET ME DIE!!!"

The box.

The man lifts her up and throws her on the bed. She tries hard to fight him, but her muscles will not respond, she is nothing more than a rag doll. After cuffing her to the bed, he reaches underneath and pulls out a black box. It is about the size of a shoebox, with a large red button and coiled wire coming from 3 metal posts that extrude from the top. She is screaming even louder now, but the man does nothing to silence her. He sits the box on the bed and ties an end of one wire to her big toe, the second wire to her wrist, and the third to the bedpost. Now he sits back in the chair and lights a cigarette. The woman in the television is smiling. "Have you missed the box?" She taunts, "The box has certainly missed you." She looks at the man. "Give it to her. Give it to her now!" The man places his finger on the button, leans in close, and kisses her on the cheek. "Goodbye." He pushes the button.

Electricity.

Thousands of volts of electricity rip through her body. She is convulsing violently. The man walks to the television, the woman's beautiful face fills the screen; she looks up at him. "Now, how about me? I've been a good girl too." The man pulls his cock out and begins to stroke it in front of her face. She looks at it and smiles. "That's right baby." Cutting her eyes up at him, she licks her lips. "That's right, give it to me." The room is filled with horrible sounds: screams, static voices from the walkie-talkie and the steady fizzle of electricity. The red bulb in the ceiling is flickering so much it has become a strobe light. The man is stroking his cock faster and faster. He puts a hand on top of the television to steady himself. The woman on the screen watches him. "Come on baby, give it to me." She tilts her head back and closes her eyes. The man ejaculates on the screen. She opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue. Cum is now covering her face. She licks her lips and whispers, "Jacqueline." The man collapses on the floor.

Jacqueline.

I wake up on the hard floor, with red flashing light and horrifying sounds filling the room. I look around and realize I'm here, in this horrible place. I'm lying in front of the television, dressed in the police uniform. Getting up on my knees I can see the woman screaming and convulsing on the bed. I grab the box and hit the red button but nothing happens. I pull hard on the box trying to pull the wires off her body but they won't come off. She is dying. I stand up and look around the room, the box isn't plugged into anything, I don't know how to make it stop. Static snow is now coming from the television. My pants have fallen down around my ankles and I realize I have a gun on my belt. I will make this stop. I take the gun from the holster and put the barrel in my mouth. This is only a dream, I will make it stop. The man appears on the television screen, he is naked. He sees me with the gun and a look of horror fills his face. "No! Please No! ... JACQUELINE!!!" I pull the trigger.