The coldness had settled Terri's nerves and her headache had subsided. The gentle hum of the many washing machines and the hypnotic tinks from the tumbling clothes in the dryer had put her at ease. She'd put in a long hard day at the office and all she had wanted for the night was peace and quiet. Here she found her solitude. The clean smells, the inviting décor, what could have been a better sanctuary in which to hide from the world. She liked to do her laundry at night while the rest of the world slept and her sanctuary brought her peace. She used this time to gather her thoughts and to write her stories. Stories to everyone else, but deep fantasies she had been fortunate enough to experience. She would never tell anyone that she got her ideas from her own reality as the secretiveness gave her the freedom to write out the wildness of her own actions.
She almost hadn't come to her hideaway tonight to seek the comfort she knew she desperately needed. Her latest memories of the laundry were still so fresh in her mind but she knew it was the only way to rid herself of the pounding that had taken hold of her head. So she'd come, fighting the urge to turn around and go back to her apartment and hide from life. She'd stood outside the door for quite sometime trying to gather her courage to face the demons she had left in the laundry the week before. The pounding in her ears grew stronger and beat more ferociously with each passing second. She'd almost talked herself into going in when the door suddenly swung open and there stood one of her demons.
Larry was the tall, thin guy who'd been here to see and assist in her nightmare. His smile told her he remembered her, too. "Wet yet?" he hissed at her as he brushed past her, too closely for her comfort. "Bastard," was all she could force out before his laughter consumed the small hallway. He had sensed her fear of him and knew she must have been standing there for quite sometime before their encounter. He liked the smell of fear in a woman and mused at how well she wore the scent. "Tom's inside too if you'd like to say hello," he added as he walked away chuckling to himself.
"Tom. Great. Just what I really needed," she screamed to herself, sending the pounding to a stronger rhythm. Tom had been there too and he was the one of foursome that she remembered most. The thought of his hands and his whiskey breath sent cold chills through her. Her flailing arms and pounding fists had been no match for his large callused hands. He could hold both of her wrists above her head with only one hand. He had kept putting his other hand over her mouth so she couldn't have cried out for anyone to hear from a distance.
Larry, Tom, Billy, and Dean had become demons in her life last Friday night. She'd been seeking refuge in the laundry room when they had come in. All of them were drunk and simply looking for something to do. They'd found Terri sitting there in her short cutoff shorts and tight T-shirt. She'd been lost in one of her latest depictions of her sexual encounters when they'd come in. Dean had asked if there were any machines available to use. Terri had politely pointed out that she only had three of them running and they could use any of the remaining ones.
"What? Are you gonna do a load?" Billy asked Dean as he broke out in a hyena laugh. Billy shot back, "I thought I might find something to do in here."
Tom and Larry had stood there just watching her and their stares had begun to make her feel quite uncomfortable. She got up to check her clothes and to put some distance between herself and them. As she turned to go back to her writings, she ran into Tom's chest. He was obviously a strong and well built man, she determined as she recoiled from the impact. She instantly got a whiff of whiskey on him and figured they must have all been drinking that night. Tom hadn't moved and blocked her every attempt to get by him.
