10A/N: A simple oneshot that I suddenly had to write down.
Warning: This story is not for children (and by that I mean the excessively fainthearted). The subject matter is mature, and semi-disturbing. This story is a bit of a mind-fuck
She slept soundly, alone in her bed. Her chest rose and fell with her steady, even breaths, and her dark eyes remained closed, unaware of the world around her. All she could do was dream.
But, as if her dream, of a valiant white knight racing through the treacherous terrain upon his fiery steed, simply to see her, his damsel in distress, was an old black and white picture film the image clicked off. It shuttered to a stop, and faded away, as if it had never been there at all. Scrunching up her face absentmindedly, Nina desperately searched for her delusion, though it was unable to be brought back to her, it seemed.
Black eyes opening, Nina Martinez awoke soundlessly, and less than happy to do so. "It was such a good dream, too..." She whispered to no one but her own listening ears. The room was dark; lit with only the lights of the streets below, bathing her domain in an eerie, invigorating, faux exuberance. The reds, and the blues, and the greens, and the purples, and the oranges of the neon signs below, and above, and across the street infiltrated her senses.
Had she not closed those blinds? She could have sworn she did. But as Nina looked over, she found, much to her confusion, that the curtains were drawn open, beckoning the sickening neon glow into her sanctuary. With a less than pleased huff, the young woman kicked off her covers, and wandered towards the window. Clad only in her father's old plaid flannel shirt and her black lace panties, the woman did not seem to be bothered in the least, as she climbed out of her window, taking a place on the railing of her fire escape, and watched the cheap Vegas lights, and the cheap women, standing in front of her building's entrance, shouting at the passing cars, hoping for a little business.
Ah, Nevada nightlife, such folly. She thought sardonically, looking up into the starless sky, having been washed clean of all natural light, due to the mile-high signs, shining, and shimmering, and spinning multiple colors at once. Drunken teens stumbled by, hooting and hollering as they passed by her, looking up at the beautiful Hispanic woman glaring back at them. Turning, she slid back in through her window and snapped it shut, also drawing the blinds to a complete close.
Padding back to her bed, Nina slipped into her covers, sinking into the mattress and pulling the warm, thick blankets around her long, curvaceous body. Though she had rather small breasts, she made up for it with being delightfully skinny, while maintaining her large round hips, and thick, round backside. Her eyes sought out the strange little hole in her wall, no bigger than a golf ball. She didn't ask the tenant what happened, or what caused it, she just ensured that it was already placed down on the accident report, lest she should be blamed for some silly hole, and have her damage deposit revoked.
Ignoring the hole, the young woman closed her eyes, hoping to fall asleep for another few hours, for she had to get up and be at work at nine in the morning, which meant she had to leave at eight, which lead to her waking everyday, except for Sunday, and Tuesday, at seven. Quickly looking over at her clock to see just how much time she had before her alarm would go off, Nina sighed, peering at the glowing red numbers, which proudly stated that it was just a little after three in the morning.
"Stupid window," She muttered through a yawn, curling up into herself and relishing in the warmth of her own body, and the blankets. "Stupid dream..." She whispered. She closed her dark eyes and happily snuggled into her pillow.
And that's when a strange scent wafted into her nostrils, filling her senses with a distinct distaste. "What is that?" She asked no one, keeping her eyes closed. Bringing her blanket to her face, she attempted to block the smell out and resume sleeping.
But the smell was in her sheets. Sitting up, Nina looked down at the sheets oddly, bringing them up to her nose again, and taking an uncertain whiff. Coughing as the putrid odor infiltrated her nose, bringing tears to her eyes. The woman reached back and took hold of her pillow, sniffing that as well, and only ending with the exact same results. Uncertainly, the young woman lifted an arm and took a quick smell of her own underarm. No, it didn't smell like that. She wasn't even sure what "that" smelled like. Rotting meat perhaps?
"Now why would that be in my bed?" She demanded to herself. Ready to kick off her sheets, and tear them all off her mattress, and pull out a spare pair in the closet, Nina gasped as her legs suddenly felt so heavy, she was unable to move them. She tried again, but to no avail.
Her upper half abruptly became too heavy for her to hold up as well, and she fell back heavily onto her mattress. "What the fuck is going on?" She demanded fearfully, a horrible feeling welling up in her stomach.
The room, though dark before, was now fading between dark and illuminated, as the light above her bed flickered on and off repeatedly. A dull buzz emanated from said light, and it began to sporadically flicker, as if it was a strobe light, fulfilling its duty at a rave. She wanted to struggle. She wanted to scream for help, but something was keeping her from doing just that.
Something was holding her larynx, while holding down her whole body. She felt as if she weighed thousands of pounds. The light above her abruptly flicked on, and stayed on, and through her peripheral vision, she saw the walls start...melting... The paint peeled away, and fell helplessly to the floor, as a fresh coat of dripping, thick, shimmering, crimson fluid was revealed beneath. The smell was that of a corpse, rotting in the sun. It brought tears to the young woman's eyes. As did the rest of the traumatizing experience.
The light began flickering again, and a shadow appeared out of the other side of her peripheral vision. Her larynx was immediately released, and the woman released the most horrified, shrill, pained screams known to man. And she couldn't stop. She just kept screaming, as if hoping that someone would hear her and come rescue her from apparently getting murdered in her own home. Something shot out and smashed her in the mouth, but it was so fast, she couldn't even make out what it was.
Sobbing now, the young woman still wished to flee, as and sane person would in this situation, but was still unable. A new weight was on top of her. It wasn't the same weight that was over, and inside her whole body, it was different. This weight wasn't simply holding her down, but on top of her, though it did not hold her, or touch her in any way. Her tears burned her eyes, but she couldn't stop them from coming. She was so scared. It was a miracle her bladder hadn't released, for she was sure it would, in such a situation, for most people.
The weight over her shifted. It was now on her, holding her shoulders down farther into the bed, which groaned, and strained beneath the incredible mass. Nina couldn't see anything. She could simply feel it all happening. Nothing was over her. Nothing that she could see. Just something that she could feel.
Something soft brushed against her outer thigh, and she quivered, afraid. The walls continued to bleed freely, and a scream was heard, though Nina did not know from where. It sounded as if it had appeared from behind her wall...or within it.
Another scream was heard. And these screams were not just any screams, they were the screams of a thousand innocent lives being taken in the most brutal of fashions. It was the kind of sound that brought tears to your eyes, and gooseflesh to your whole body. Nina could only shake, she could only tremble within herself, for her whole body was still being held still, by what she guessed was the monster on top of her.
And then, her eyes became wide with a fear that no human, or any being, for that matter, should ever have to encounter. Her father's plaid flannel shirt was viciously torn away from her body, and thrown into the sticky, bloody wall, and lay on the floor in a stained, tattered heap. Her breasts now bared, the beast on top of her placed its massive, slightly furry hands on the small mounds of flesh, and began a rather angry circular motion, as if seeing how hard they could rub against her breast before she would cry. It did not take long. The tears were ghosting out of her wide, black eyes. The feeling of the hands on her breasts not only stung her, but the fact that this was happening, in and of itself, was absolutely traumatizing.
She felt a small pull at the lace panties she was wearing and everything in her mind, and body started screaming, and pounding against the confines of her mind in protest. But the tears simply fell silently. The being slipped the lace off of her smooth legs, and she trembled inwardly as she experienced the conflicting feelings of the rough lace, and the soft fur against her skin. Something before her began to...solidify.
The being on top of her, again roughly mauling her breasts with venom began to form into an almost miasma... She wasn't sure what to make of the vapor that was her capturer. And the vapor had eyes... The eyes were barely visible; they were covered with so much of the swirling form of the monster. And the beast continued to solidify. Nina wished to let out yet another scream of absolute terror when the being came into focus. Tall and broad, was all she could make out, at that point.
And then the lights went out.
She continued to lay motionless, as the beast lethargically plunged into her trembling body, roughly taking her, and viciously dragging his claws down her narrow waist. The blood that spilled from the cuts soaked into the sheets beneath them, and her vision began to go somewhat hazy.
The bed shook and creaked as he plunged in and out of her unwilling body. The darkness only made her feel more horrified. She couldn't even see her captors face. She couldn't see what the beast looked like. She could only feel the large, strong, rough hands, the heavy weight of the man on top of her, the thickness of his chiseled waist as he forced her legs to wrap around his body, as he fucked her, as if a ferocious animal in heat.
And so, she lay, waiting. The blood that spilled from her sides and the tears that spilled from her eyes joined in a mixture of absolute torment, and soaked her sheets with sin.
The beast brought himself down, completely on top of her, as he continued roughly fucking her. Their chests pressed together, and his mouth right against her ear, Nina trembled. Her arms, without any consent from her, reached up, and took hold of his massive shoulders, as he plunged into her. And so she held him. She held the man that raped her, and made her cry. She watched the blood splattering the floor, as it dripped off the walls. The light flickered on for a millisecond, but she missed the chance to see him, for she was staring at the ceiling when it had happened.
And without her consent, she began to feel...exceptional. The way he moved against her, and plunged inside of her...it began to feel so good. Without meaning to, she let out a soft gasp. The beast moved faster, forcing her to vocalize her sudden interest at the task at hand. But it wasn't a sexual feeling like any other she had experienced. All other times she had made love, the feeling was wonderful...but it didn't hold a candle to this raw, vigorous acquisition.
The only conclusion that could be drawn, was that he had cast some sort of spell on her. Just as her vocalizations began decreasing in time, and volume, the pleasure was immediately put into overdrive.
The devil was pleasuring her.
The devil was violating her in a way that no one had dared attempt.
And she loved it.
She squealed, and screamed into the air, unable to hold back her declaration of her impending release. His breathing did not increase, for he was not breathing at all. He just sped up his movements, and the young woman suddenly felt lighter than ever before, and she clung to his body for dear life, and tightened her legs around his waist, screeching and squealing as an orgasm so intense hit her, she would barely even be able to recall her own name, at that moment, had someone asked her. She was sure she was going to black out.
But she didn't.
He wouldn't let her. He wasn't finished yet. She fell back onto the bed and watched as his silhouette moved quickly above her. The bed wailed in protest as he viciously took her. And then, he stopped moving abruptly, and she gasped as her body was flooded with the liquid heat that spilled from his own body. They lay thus for a moment, as he continued to hover over her. A sudden feeling rushed through her body, and she pulled him into her, holding him tightly against her chest.
The beast did not move. He just simply lay, waiting. "What are you?" She whispered so softly, like a child, needing the reassurance that the monsters in the closet were really gone. And so, she held on to her monster.
A long, somewhat slimy tongue ghosted out of the beast's mouth, and pressed against her sweaty face. She closed her eyes, tightening her hold on the shoulders of the beast that touched her so softly. A sweeping feeling of need, and the need to be close to this monster whirled into her senses. "Tell me your name?" She begged, feeling that he was still buried deep within her.
He began to deteriorate. The vapor he had once been, he was now reverting to. "Don't go," She begged, confused. "Tell me your name?" Nina called. The beast was gone. The weight was gone. Her voice was back. The walls were once again painted their bland eggshell.
She could still feel a certain chill in the air. "Diablo," A deep, menacing voice rang. And then, there was nothing. No chill, no nothing. The beast had fled her side. She fell back into her bed.
And her eyes snapped open.
Nina sat up in her bed, sweating and shaking. "A dream...?" She demanded, looking around her room in fear. Sighing, the young woman smiled and sat cross-legged on her bed. "What a bizarre dr " She stopped dead, in the middle of her words, and stared at the wall. The hole... The golf ball sized hole had something on it... Wandering out of her bed, and over to the wall, Nina squatted next to the hole, and plucked off a little black fur...
It was so soft, and warm, as if it had just been shed from the body from once it came. Trembling, she dropped the clump of fur onto the carpet, and whirled around to stare at her bed. The sheets were stained in wet blood. Reaching to her sides, Nina bit her lip as she felt something sticky.
Rushing into her bathroom, Nina turned on the bathtub tap, and jumped into the water, scrubbing her body until she felt that she could scrub no more without tearing her skin off. The words were scrawled into her stomach, plain as day: Esclava... She read the script many times, and each time she did, it said the same thing: Esclava. Slave. Her stomach was scarred with the word: slave...
Diablo...
Devil... The devil had come knocking at her door last night.
She recalled gripping his shoulders, and holding him.
And she had welcomed him in. Stumbling out of the bathroom, naked and dripping wet, Nina stared up at the crucifix hanging above the door of her apartment. Jesus' face was...somewhat deteriorated.
She turned and walked back into her room, the word 'sinner' replaying over and over in her mind. She couldn't stop herself from wanting to hold him. Everything in her body was under his control, wasn't it?
Nina stared at the hole in her wall. Was he...in there?
She sat, naked and wet on her bed, the word: Esclava fiery red and inflamed angrily, as she simply watched the hole before her.
Was he...in there?
"What exactly happened?" A tall man, standing next to a strict looking woman asked.
"I smelled something coming out of her room, so I went in, and this is what I found..." The landlord stated weakly, his hands trembling enough to spill some of his coffee on the beige carpet.
"Thank you..." The woman stated, turning back to the room, and ducking beneath the police tape. "Wow..." She muttered. "Whoever did this was one nasty fucker..."
"What do you think, angry ex-boyfriend?" The man mumbled, taking a sip of his coffee.
"I'm not sure..." She sighed. "I've never seen anything like this before." The two stared on at the scene before them.
"Name of the victim?" Another agent asked from behind them.
"Nina Martinez," The man responded softly. The agent that asked the question nodded, and scribbled the name down onto their notebook.
"Who would do that?" The agent asked, pointing at a canyon-sized hole in the wall.
"Maybe that's where she stored her money?" The woman mumbled.
The young Hispanic woman was hanged from the roof, by her feet, and literally gutted. She hanged, blood all over the room, and her innards strewn about. All of them were accounted for. They had checked. A massive hole had been torn into her wall, leaving most of it hollow. The wires and planks were all showing, along with a couple of pipes.
Wandering into the bathroom, they stared at a bloody bathtub, and used extra caution when entering, finding every inch of the floor sopped with bloody water. "Do you think this is where the murderer washed up after?" One agent asked.
"Why wouldn't they at least drain the tub?" Another wondered.
"Do you think maybe the victim was bathing in here...?" Another asked.
"Why is it so damn bloody, then?" The first whispered to himself.
"Look at this," Someone called from the bedroom again. Leaving the dirty bathing area, the agents looked at the bed, and stared at the splatters of blood, and a woman's panties, tossed to the upper left corner of the mattress.
"Rape," One of the men mumbled.
"Maybe..." Another responded. "Come on, boys, let's get her down from there!"
A female CSI sighed, leaning back against the wall as some of her coworkers removed the body from the ceiling. Who would do such an awful thing?
Chains kept her in one place. He could simply sit, and watch her for hours on end, doing nothing but staring at her naked body. Tears tumbled out of her black eyes.
"Lay back," He demanded with a deep, menacing voice, that left no room for argument. She lay back, spreading her legs, and waiting for him to continue, like she was supposed to. "Good, pet," He whispered, sinking his long, sharp claws into her arms.
"Yes...Diablo..." She whispered. And as she stared up at the rock ceiling, she couldn't help but feel a little cold. Pet. That was her name now. That's all he ever called her. And he was the only one she ever saw. Screams of torment rang in her ears in a constant succession, never with a moment rest. She could barely hear it anymore.
"Pet," He growled. Her name was pet. And so she lay, her fingertips gently running over the scars on her stomach. The scars that told the world who she was, and what she was. The scars he had given her one night, what seemed like hundreds of years ago.
His face touched her ear, and she felt him smirk against her skin. "Mi pequeña esclava patetica," He whispered. And she began to cry. "Si," He mumbled. "Escalva,"
Esclava means slave