Tomorrow 18

Author's note: This story is unusual by Literotica standards. It is on the edge of consent & nonconsent, death is a key theme, and there is an omnipresent threat of violence (although there is little actual violence). This is reflected in the keywords - fear and anticipation. You have been warned.

Saturday, 19 November, Midnight

"Hello Rachel," the disembodied voice cut through her sleep-befuddled consciousness. "This is just to inform you that I'm kidnapping you tomorrow. There's a high chance you will die..."

"Go bother someone else," Rachel murmured sleepily.

"...You will find $1000 on the kitchen table. It's my gift that you may enjoy one last day as a free woman. If you would like to contact me, the key phrase is 'Hello Overseer'. See you tomorrow, Rachel."

Rachel yawned, and fell back into a dreamless sleep.

Saturday, 19 November, 7:30am

Morning. Rachel stretched sleepily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It had been another troubled night, as had many of her nights had been since the separation a month ago. She had caught her husband with another woman, and a bitter argument later, she had stormed out of the house to move back in with her mother Tilly. Heartbroken and hurt, she had brushed aside Frank's repeated apologies and cut him from her life. Her mother had advised her to file for a divorce, but deep inside she knew she still loved Frank, so she had dithered. At least Frank had not attempted to apologize in person; she knew she would call the police should he show up.

It's a weekend

, she thought slowly with a tinge of relief.

No work, no responsibilities.

The separation had caused her work to suffer, and although her manager was understanding, she knew her manager could not cover for her forever.

Rachel pushed herself out of bed. As the days passed, her moody behavior had strained the relationship with Tilly, and they were on the verge of not talking to each other as well. Tilly loved her, Rachel knew, but Rachel just didn't feel like talking. At first Tilly had diligently put up with her daughter, but she was growing critical, and Rachel knew she could not impose on her mother forever either.

It's all Frank's fault

, she thought for the umpteenth time.

I put everything into the marriage, and...

she didn't complete the thought; thinking about Frank still made her angry.

She walked to the kitchen, not bothering to change out of her nightdress. Tilly was an early riser, and despite the friction between the two, she still always prepared breakfast for her daughter before doing gardening in the early morning sun. Today was no different. Tilly had prepared toast, baked beans, an omelette, and -

Rachel blinked, startled to full alertness. There amidst the cutlery were ten $100 notes. What on Earth?

"Mom!" she called. "Did you leave this money on the table?"

"Why, are you expecting me to tidy away your money too?" Tilly called back from the garden. "Stop leaving your money in plain sight by the way, you're inviting burglars."

Rachel barely heard Tilly. There was no way this was her money. She relied on her debit card when making purchases and never carried this much cash. But if it wasn't Tilly's either, whose was it?

The dream

. Someone had threatened her the night prior, then gave her $1000. The fragmented sequence was typical of dreams, and she had filed it away as an unusually vivid product of her subconsciousness. Yet here was $1000 staring back at her. She touched the notes tentatively. They certainly looked and felt authentic.

"It's not possible," she said aloud. "There has got to be a simple explanation for this." Could Frank have broken into the house and left the money? But he didn't have the keys, in fact only she and Tilly had copies - her father had died several years ago. She checked the windows, but there was no sign of forced entry. Besides, she realized, any intruder would be far more likely to steal the $1000 than leave it behind.

"It's not possible," she said aloud again. She thought again of the dream sequence.

Someone said they were kidnapping me tomorrow, and they were leaving me $1000 to enjoy one last day as a free woman

.

They also said I am likely to die, and I can contact them by saying "Hello Overseer".

She shook her head. The dream made no sense. Still...

"Hello Overseer," she said half-heartedly.

"Hello Rachel," came back an ethereal voice, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. "What would you like to talk about?"

"Mom!" she called frantically, dashing out of the house. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"A ghostly voice. It sounded as though it's everywhere but also nowhere at the same time."

Tilly gave Rachel a worried look. "I didn't hear anything. What did it say?"

"It said... nevermind, I must have imagined it. Sorry. Thanks for preparing breakfast."

"You're welcome. Do rest if you're not feeling well, you look as if you've seen a ghost."

Rachel forced a smile as she returned to the house. She opened the door with great trepidation, but nothing seemed to have moved. The $1000 was still on the table, amidst the untouched breakfast. If it weren't for her pounding heart, things seemed completely normal.

The voice had disappeared as soon as she stopped thinking about it. She would have to use the key phrase again. "Hello Overseer," she breathed.

"Hello Rachel," came back the voice. "What would you like to talk about?"

Now that she was prepared for it, she noticed what felt like a presence of an alien intelligence within her. It didn't hurt and she was still in total control, but the other entity was there, watching. When the voice spoke, its words radiated throughout her body, giving the feeling of being everywhere. "Who - what are you?"

"I'm someone who has been watching you for a while. You may call me Overseer."

"I mean, what are you? How are you communicating with me?"

"I watch, listen, and feel all that happens. Whatever you call that, I am. As for how I am communicating with you, I project my thoughts at you, and your brain interprets them as words."

Rachel was silent for a while as she absorbed the Overseer's words. "Do you exist? Are you a figment of my imagination?" she whispered at last, still a little skeptical. "What do you want?"

She felt a tinge of mirth from the entity. "So many questions, and I am obliged to answer. Yes of course I exist. Your imagination didn't conjure the $1000, you know. As for what I want, if you've forgotten, I'm kidnapping you tomorrow. 12:00am in this time zone, to be exact. I will seize you from wherever you are at the time and take you to my dungeon, where I will torture you. You will feel some exquisite pain, and probably die in a few days' time."

The voice's casual tone was very jarring. "Are you being serious? You can't do that. There are laws against kidnapping."

"It is impossible for me to lie, so yes, I am being serious. Your laws don't apply to me."

Rachel backed up against a wall, clutching herself protectively. What was she talking to? She had no idea. Visually there was nothing unusual in the dining room, but she could feel the Overseer's intelligence within her, watching. Despite the evilness in its words, she could sense no malice from the entity; it was just

there

, and it gave nothing away about its motivations. "Why do you want to kidnap me? Is it for money?"

There was another tinge of mirth from the entity. "I gave you $1000 out of kindness, and you ask if I want money. I guess since you evidently don't need the money too, I'll take the $1000 back." Rachel immediately looked at where the money had been on the table, but to her great shock, it was no longer there.

It's not possible

, she thought yet again, but her disbelieving eyes reported the contrary. The money was simply not there anymore, and there was no one else in the room.

"As for why I want to kidnap you," the voice continued casually, "as I've said, I want to torture you. There are so many things I want to do to that lovely body of yours. You are young and female. Young means you can withstand more pain, while female bodies are more fun to torture than male ones. Why, just looking at the soft curves of your breasts, the hint of your nipples, concealed so seductively under your nightdress - oh, I am looking forward to midnight."

Rachel cringed at the Overseer's crassness, suddenly regretting not wearing a bra to bed. Her breasts were not large, although they were ample enough for her frame. Now however they felt very heavy, and she reflexively drew her nightdress tighter about herself. She was on the verge of tears, and she fought to keep control. "Why are you doing this? I don't want to be tortured," she said desperately. "I'd rather die."

"I don't want to kill you. I want to torture you. I want to hear you scream and beg as you suffer, and I will not allow you to die first." The evilness of the Overseer's words made Rachel shudder. "As I've said, you get to enjoy one last day as a free woman today. I'll even guarantee that nothing untoward will happen to you. You may do whatever you want, except inflict serious injury on yourself. That includes intentionally exposing yourself to danger. If you try, I will immediately intervene, bring you to my dungeon, and we can begin."

Rachel slumped against the dining room wall, curling into a ball, no longer able to control her tears. The voice said nothing as she sobbed for a good five minutes. "I don't want to be tortured," she repeated at last. "Why me?"

"Why you? Why not you? I could kidnap your neighbour, I suppose. She's also young and female. But if I do, who's going to take care of her husband and kids? You?"

Rachel hugged herself even harder at that. "Are you going to torture me to death?" she whispered, barely daring to voice the question.

"If I wanted to, then yes. But I am only interested in your suffering, not in your death." The voice paused, and Rachel had the impression that it was doing some calculations. "The future is uncertain, but some end states are reasonably well established. Imagine leaving work to go home. You could drive, take public transport, or walk. They're all different paths, but they're all overwhelmingly likely to lead to you arriving back home. Something similar applies here. The sum over histories says that regardless of what you do today, the probability of me kidnapping you is 100%. From there the probability of you dying in the next two days is approximately 95%. Much will depend on your capacity to withstand pain. Another factor is whether you do something stupid like go to the police. As I've said, you may do whatever you want today, which means I won't stop you if you choose to approach the police. However, even if they chain you in their most secure cell and post ten guards to watch you, that won't stop me from abducting you. I will also interpret your action as insolence, and I will be accordingly harsher. The probability of you dying rises to 99.2%."

"And if I don't die, what will happen?" she whispered, even softer than before, but the Overseer seemed to have no trouble hearing her.

"I will torture you for at least two days. Then I will heal you, and start torturing you all over again. If you are still alive after a week, I'll release you."

Rachel looked up. The dining room looked completely normal. It was beginning to get sunny as well. Tilly would not remain gardening for much longer. "There is nothing that will persuade you not to torture me, is there?"

"No."

Her tears threatened to flow again, but she fought them off. "If I tell my mother what you just said," her voice trembling, "would you interpret it as insolence?"

"Not so long as you don't try to make it harder for me to abduct you. You can't 'make it harder', mind, but if the intention is there, then you will suffer."

Rachel struggled to her feet, her mind still in turmoil. She was at the mercy of a sadistic supernatural entity, and there was nothing she could do about it. That realization of her own powerlessness helped her focus.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.

She couldn't stop the Overseer from torturing her, but she could maximize her odds of survival.

She desperately wanted to tell Tilly, but she checked herself. For Tilly, the Overseer was just a voice in Rachel's head, and even if Tilly believed her, there was nothing Tilly could do anyway. Not that she wouldn't try, however. Doing nothing was just not Tilly's style, as Rachel had learned since her separation. If Tilly decided to call the police or install sensors around the house, and the Overseer blamed it on Rachel...

No

, Rachel thought grimly.

A 5% chance of survival is still better than 0.8%. I'll write mom a message instead, to tell her what has happened to me.

It was a desperate plan, but still a plan. Having a plan helped keep the panic at bay. She hurriedly ate breakfast, then went to her room.

Saturday, 19 November, 9:00am

Two envelopes

, Rachel thought, as she placed them on the table. One to be opened tomorrow, the other to be opened in a week's time. One to explain her disappearance, the other to explain the circumstances. One to say she would be away for a while, the other to say she was likely dead.

Dead

. That word made her so afraid. A part of her wanted to sit on her bed and mope, but another part wanted to make full use of the time she had left.

15 hours

, she thought as she looked at the clock.

I have 15 hours

.

What should she do with the time? Spending time with her loved ones was her first thought.

Mom

, she thought. Though their relationship had been strained since the separation, her mother still loved her, and was providing for her. She owed Tilly, she realized. And if she died... Tilly had been inconsolable for over a week when Rachel's father passed away. She shuddered to think what would happen if Tilly had to organize her own daughter's funeral. All the more reason to strive to survive.

And then there was Frank.

It's all his fault

, Rachel mused. If he had not cheated on her, she could very well be pregnant right now, and then perhaps the Overseer would have chosen someone else. Two hours ago, thinking of Frank would've made her angry, but her own impending doom had sucked all the anger from her.

I'll go find Frank,

she thought.

I'll tell him I forgive him, that I still love him. If all goes well, I could even be pregnant tomorrow. Too bad I might never find out.

Then she corrected herself.

I definitely won't be pregnant tomorrow. It takes several days for sperm to fertilize the ovum, and then another several days for the zygote - no, blastocyst - to implant itself in the uterus.

She smiled despite herself. Why does the mind get fixated over these little details?

She picked up her pillow, hugging it tightly.

I'll tell Frank that he should come to Mom's house tomorrow afternoon,

she thought.

I will be gone, and Mom will have opened the first envelope. Frank will worry and be tempted to open the second envelope, but Mom will prevail on him to wait. A week from now, he'll know that he has lost me forever, that his little tryst meant all I could give him was one last day. It'll be a special kind of payback for his infidelity.

Then her face fell.

Maybe the other woman will be able to give him what I could not...

Her mind made up, she went downstairs. The sound of running water told her where Tilly was. Rachel felt a pang of guilt. Tilly was judiciously keeping her distance, yet she was still cleaning up after Rachel.

A parasite - I have been such a parasite.

"Mom," she called as she entered the kitchen. "Let me do the cleaning. You cooked breakfast, it's only fair that I clean up afterwards."

"Don't worry about it," Tilly said automatically, but Rachel brushed her aside. "Let me do it, Mom. You've been taking care of me the past month, it's only fair that I help." She grasped the sponge, feeling the soapy water run over her wrist. "After I'm done, do you still want to go for a picnic in the park? You wanted to go last week, said it'd help me get over the separation, but I was too moody."

Tilly gave her a dubious look. "Is there something you're not telling me? I'm your mother, I can always tell when you're hiding something. And you are acting like that time you crashed my car. Come on, out with it."

She thought of the $1000, the Overseer, the clock. She thought of the 5%, the police, the two envelopes. She thought of the Overseer's glee at seeing her breasts through her nightdress, and how she had surreptitiously put on a bra as a result.

"I'm fine," she said.

Saturday, 19 November, 2pm

Although Rachel had meant to go to the park, Tilly had pointed out that it was Saturday, so the park was likely to be crowded. They decided to have the picnic in the garden instead. The weather was lovely, not too hot even though it was noontime, and it went some way to soothing Rachel's nerves. She'd shared several heartfelt moments with Tilly reminiscing over her childhood and talking about Frank. But with tomorrow hanging over her head like the Sword of Damocles, she had been tense throughout, something that Tilly picked up on immediately. Rachel had fended Tilly off by saying she was nervous about reconciling with Frank, and she was genuinely relieved when Tilly reacted with joy. Their conversation shifted from her to Frank, and how to effect a reconciliation.

"Invite him to a movie," Tilly had suggested. "Then take dinner together. Be sure to wear something nice and bring up all the good memories you've had together from the past. Actually, eat up. We'll go buy a dress for you now."

This is why I cannot tell Mom about the Overseer

, Rachel thought as Tilly dragged her to a boutique. There was just no stopping Tilly, no "I've got plenty of dresses at home" that Rachel could have said. She let Tilly take the lead as they inspected the dresses available. At one point Tilly mused over a maxi dress with a deep V neck ("show him what he's missing!" she said), but Rachel put her foot down. A dress like that had to be worn braless, and there was no way she would do that after what the Overseer had said in the morning. To her relief, Tilly had sensed the strength of her daughter's opposition, and settled on something else: an elegant purple wrap dress that covered Rachel's shoulders and went down to her knees. They had walked out of the boutique with their new purchase before contacting Frank.

If Rachel had been worried Frank might say no, her fears were misplaced. Frank accepted the invitation enthusiastically, and even offered to pick her up. And so here she was, getting dressed for the date.

I won't wear much makeup, just some rouge so I don't look so pale...

she also decided to wear the necklace Frank's parents had given her for their wedding. Frank was sure to notice, and it would send a signal about her sincerity. Her reflection in the mirror looked beautiful, not anything like the haggard bundle of nerves that she felt like. Why, she was so nervous that she was ready early. In the dates before their marriage, Tilly would usually have to invite Frank into the house while they waited for Rachel.

"I'll wait for Frank outside," she called to Tilly.

"You sure? It looks like rain."

"It'll only be for a few minutes," she answered. Better a bit of rain than sitting around and waiting - she was much too tense for the latter. Then she remembered how rouge washes off in the rain.

Mom is always right

, she thought sheepishly.

Fortunately it's just rouge. If I'd also used eyeliner, I'd look hideous in this rain.