Smokey Saga #4:
"
Beyond Hell And Back
"
This, to put it lightly, is a
harsh
story—far harsher, more dark and sinister than my other works. Some might go so far as to call it "brutal." It's a much more malicious side to my writing than has been shown thus far. No kidding—on the spectrum of erotica, if "Hypnothe-Rapist" is at one extreme, this is at the other; the two could not be more different. And also standing apart from my previous Sagas, hopefully without giving too much away, this story does
not
have a sweet happy ending. Feel free to leave feedback, Readers, it's always welcomed, valued and appreciated. So without further ado
...
***
August 28th, 2:15 a.m.
It was a full-tilt booming fiasco at The Twilight, teeming with hundreds of ardent clubbers on the floor. Strings of multicolored strobe lights lined the ceiling of the otherwise dark building, bouncing dim spotlights over the entire joint, under a cacophony of vociferous techno trance music, dripping over it all like a hot fudge sundae.
In the midst of the whole scene, sitting at the bar was a group of five young women.
Four
of them were raucously partying, throwing back drinks, hitting on guys, having one of the nights of their rowdy lives...and toasting the one girl who wasn't partying. She, as it turned out, was the birthday girl. Holly. 21 years old, as of 10:57 p.m., August 27th, 2003.
Holly sat shy and quiet at the bar, her boisterous friends on either side. She stared into her virtually untouched glass, hands in her lap, trying to look like she wasn't here with these hoydens. She felt like a fish out of water: embarrassed, nervous and reluctant...but most of all she felt uncomfy.
Very
uncomfy. The fact was, she hadn't even wanted to come to this club for her birthday. She'd never been to it before, and she didn't like it here. Her friends had figuratively dragged her along, but it might as well have been literally. She came because she couldn't say no, and because her friends were persistent. In fact, lately she had begun questioning why she remained friends with them. She knew it probably made her "uncool," but she couldn't have felt less at ease here. She wished she could've just stayed home, in her nice safe house, with her nice safe Mom and Dad.
They had given her a sedate little party at home, which was really more her style, and presented her with a beautiful new light-blue blouse, which she was wearing right now. She'd put it on for them just before her friends dropped over and kidnapped her, insisting her 21st birthday was instant grounds for a full-tilt booming fiasco at The Twilight.
They had been there about an hour and a half, and while out of morality she didn't want to, Holly was heavily considering lowering herself underneath the bar, slipping by her kidnappers and going home. Although she hated doing anything deceitful or dishonest, it wouldn't be too difficult to ditch her friends. They all had a few belts in them, and they weren't paying attention to her at all; they were draping themselves over young men who approached to buy them drinks.
That was it. Holly made up her mind. She slipped off her shoes, picked up her purse, slowly spun herself around the stool, ducked down, rapidly tiptoed straight to the door in her bare feet, and let herself out. She could have used a quick trip to the ladies', but she didn't like public restrooms and she really didn't want to spend one more minute in this place.
She got outside to Kent Street, breathed a sigh of relief and put her heels back on. She sighed, just wanting to get away from here. It was a sketchy neighborhood, she was getting tired and all she wanted now was to go home and hit the sack. Unfortunately for her, her girl buddies had wanted to get tanked, so they'd taken public transportation here. She'd have to take the bus back. She mentally rerouted herself and continued walking. The closest stop, she believed, was at the corner of Kent Street and Queensquare Road. She had a good little journey ahead of her. Luckily, she knew there was a bus every half hour or so. On the way, she called her parents, knowing there was little chance but hoping they could be awake and come get her. No luck.
Click
.
She shook her head, thinking about her "friends." Again,
why
did she hang out with these girls? She had next to nothing in common with them, and they always took advantage of her. Then again, she told herself, it seemed that people had
always
taken advantage of her growing up. She felt ashamed of her inability to tell anyone no. She thought it made her a pushover...a jellyfish, a doormat, a marshmallow. Come to think of it, taking advantage went hand in hand with teasing her. She was mercilessly teased, mocked and ridiculed in school, in large part because halfway through year one—ostensibly deemed brainy by those other than herself—she was taken out of first grade and dropped in second. The alienation was awful. The lack of positive attention as a child gradually translated into a need to do whatever it took to make people like her as an adult. Hence her compulsion to please everyone and never say no. And yet, at the same time, she didn't feel she received any reciprocation or respect. It was all so...so...
frustrating
.
Her grade jump was the reason she was 21 and all her friends were 22. The fact that her friends grew up and became young women a year before she did made a psychological impact on her. She never fully grew up mentally, and so her tendencies and behavior remained childlike. Not foolishly immature, but merely unsophisticated. She was naïve, innocent and easily influenced. When someone treated her like an adult, or addressed her as "Miss" or "Ma'am," it felt bizarre. Time went on, but her mindset stayed put. Chronologically, she was 21, but in her kiddish mind, she might as well be 14. In this respect, her friends grew up without her.
She made a note the next time they wanted her time to politely tell them to bugger off. She chided herself for not toughening up and being such a chicken in situations like this night. She proceeded to give herself another scolding for giving in to the pressure her friends put her under tonight to buy them a round. And she'd
done
it. It was her
birthday
, for heaven's sake! She didn't even drink!
It was just a few more minutes to the bus stop. She could make out the Juniper street sign over the major highway. Good, just another block or so. She kept berating, then forgiving herself, thinking she just needed a good night's sleep and things would be all better. And she would strengthen her will, and stop always giving others what they needed in exchange for temporary gratification. And she'd grow
up
already! She would become life-smart, in addition to simply being book-smart, and learn to know shortcake from Shinola. Yeah. She'd show them. And she'd show herself. She'd stop doing favors and buying drinks and just saying yes all the time. She tried calling home again, even though she was positive they wouldn't answer, and she was right. Disappointed, she kept heading for the bus stop.
Phooey
, she thought. She was really hoping she could get her folks to come pick her up and save her a...
...
Wait a minute
.
A ping of panic struck her.
Waaaait a minute
, she repeated in her head. She let the ping grow into a realistic strike of alarm and trepidation. She stopped walking, grabbed her purse and started worriedly sifting through it.
Oh no
, she thought, her dread growing.
OH, NO.
She had no money left for the bus. She had only taken a few dollars with her, and that had ended up going for the drinks. The club was fifteen miles from her house. There was no way she could walk that far, in heels or barefoot. She ruffled through her purse more quickly and fearfully, trying to remember how much money she'd given the bartender, and how much she'd left home with.
Oh no!
she kept thinking, on the verge of tears.
Oh, God, no! Oh, now I'm
screwed!
What am I gonna do??
For half a second she considered going back to The Twilight, but that just wasn't an option. It had been about thirty minutes since she left. She was now several blocks away, she was
very
tired, and if she knew her friends, they'd already left with some sleazy-looking guys, no doubt on the way to some further debauchery.
She had her credit card, but a lot of good that'd do on the bus. She had already tried calling home twice. She tried a third, then immediately again a fourth time, but to still no avail. Her mind raced through anything and everything that came to mind, looking for options. She was ten seconds from dumping the contents of her purse on the sidewalk in one last-ditch effort to find some cash.
Oh no
...
oh, why didn't I just give the bartender my stupid credit card?! Oh gosh, I'm such an idiot! What was I thinking??
Apparently, she was thinking her so-called friends would give her a ride home. Her naiveté and flighty mind tended to land her in such troublesome spots as this. She whimpered and sniffled, punishing herself for making all these absurd decisions leading up to her current state. She could have brought more money! She could have asked her Mom and Dad to wait up for her! She could have resisted her friends' demands to go out with them in the first place! She could have worn sneakers! She could have—
The next sound stopped her heart.
Click
.
"
Don't say a word.
"
Before her brain even had time to register it, a predatory gloved hand clamped over her mouth, and she felt something press the side of her head, which she did not have to look to know...was a cocked gun.
Holly automatically screamed in terror, but all that escaped was a muffled squeal.
***
August 28th, 2:55 a.m.
Holly felt herself being literally dragged off the street, into the back of an alley and finally through a door into a pitch black interior. By the time they got inside, scared and submissive to the core as she was, she was already crying hysterically. Her attacker locked the door behind them, and she felt the gloved hand unmuffle her mouth.
