Drake thought he had just broken a world-record for fastest erection without any physical stimulation. He watched her turn to a dresser and rummage through one of the drawers. Although she had a beautiful body from behind, slim, tan, and perfectly proportioned, Drake mentally urged her to turn around and face him again so he could get a good look at her from the front.
He could just barely see the sides of her breasts, sometimes swaying a little more into view and then out again as she moved items around in the drawer. She finally selected something and pulled it over her head. Damn. Over already. The show had just gotten started and now the damned girl was ending it. FUCK! Drake screamed inside his head.
The girl had pulled a grey sweatshirt over her head and was now stepping into matching sweatpants. Oh, no you don’t. Drake couldn’t take it anymore. He was tired of being fucked with by girls like her. He acted on an impulse born of lust and rage. He duck-walked away from the window and rounded the corner. The long, hanging leaves of the tree in the front yard concealed him as he walked to the front door. For once, something in my favor.
He quietly and quickly made his way onto the porch. The door wasn’t even shut all the way. Again, he was in luck. This was meant to be. The gods were finally smiling on him. If only he had known – this is what they wanted him to do – take action. He wasn’t meant to watch like some undeserving spectator. He was meant to act – to take! The gods were giving him a gift, and he’d damn well accept it.
***
Michelle was really pleased with the way her day had gone. She’d found a great new style of clothing, and possibly even made a friend. It felt a little weird thinking of someone Sara’s age as a friend, but she really felt like one. Much more so than the people she had been calling friends lately.
She also planned on taking Sara’s advice and talking to Deron. She hoped the woman was right in her belief that if she apologized, Deron would forgive her and their friendship would be restored. Michelle wasn’t so sure it would be that easy, but Sara was convinced that true love was easily rekindled. With her mind at ease with the possibility of a new and improved life, Michelle relaxed and felt how tired she was. She was also thirsty from the long walk home.
She left her room and went down the hall, walking soundlessly in her bare feet on the plush carpet. She went through a doorway into the short hall that led into the kitchen. She saw the auto-host message indicator was blinking. Probably her parents. She’d play the messages later. First, she needed something to drink. She opened the refrigerator door and took stock of her options. Iced tea! Yes. That’s just what she needed.
She leaned down and reached in for a bottle and felt a hand clamp over her mouth, then she was pulled backwards into the soft flesh of a strange man.
***
Now that Charlie knew that Deron had definitely escaped, he was certain that what they had called “treatment” was definitely some type of brainwashing program. That weasel doctor had been experimenting on Deron, and the boy wouldn’t have it. When he’d gotten a chance, he got out. Now Charlie just had to figure out where he’d gone.
Going home would be too obvious, as would going to Charlie’s house. To Charlie’s knowledge of Deron’s associates, that left only one possibility that he was aware of: Michelle Granger.
He started driving toward the address he’d memorized the day before when he’d found the envelope addressed to her. As he drove, he imagined what he’d say when he got there. He didn’t know if Deron would go to her house or not, and it would be extremely awkward to just show up there and ask if he was there.
He let up on the gas and let the car decelerate. He tried to think clearly. The last few days had really drained his energy and he was feeling the stress and fatigue of all the worrying he’d done. He wished he had a cup of coffee. Maybe he should just go to a 7-Eleven and have a cup and think this over. He knew he wasn’t senile, but he also knew his mind wasn’t as sharp as it once was. If it turned out that Deron was at Michelle’s, then what?
Forty
Michelle’s scream was muffled by the palm of Drake’s left hand. With his right, he pulled her backwards abruptly. She would have fallen if he hadn’t been supporting her weight as he dragged her backwards, her feet sliding across the tile floor. She was still trying to scream and then she suddenly stopped and bit down on Drake’s hand. He instantly let go of her and she fell to the floor. Michelle hit the tiles hard, first on her tailbone, then her head smacked down. She cried out in pain.
Drake yelled at her. “How do you like it, you little bitch? Hurts, don’t it?”
Michelle curled up into a fetal position, crying and cradling her head. Drake reached down, grabbed her arms and resumed dragging her across the floor and then across the carpet as he walked backwards towards her room. With her mouth free of Drake’s palm, Michelle realized she could scream for help. As soon as she did, she felt a sharp blow from one of Drake’s shoes on the back of her head and she stopped screaming.
“Every time you do something like that, I’m gonna hurt you. Got that?”
She didn’t answer. She only cried from the pain coming from two places on her head and from the terror of this maniac in her home. She was scared to death and couldn’t believe that this was happening in the one place where she should be safe. All the way home from the club the night before, she feared people such as this looking at her and fantasizing about what they’d do to her.
She suddenly felt herself lifted up from the floor and then tossed into the air. She landed on her bed and immediately scooted backwards toward the headboard, away from the crazy man. She cowered against the headboard with her knees drawn up and her hair hanging in front of her face. She was crying and breathing rapidly, afraid of what was going to happen next. She figured he was definitely going to rape her, but she was more afraid that afterwards, he would kill her.
He grabbed a shirt from an open drawer in her dresser and threw it at her. “Wipe off your face,” he said, sounding almost sane and gentle. “I don’t like the black streaks running down your cheeks. I want you to look the way you did before. Pretty and sexy.”
He saw something skimpy lying in the corner. It was black and furry. He remembered now that he’d passed this girl last night on the sidewalk as he was leaving. He picked up the two surprisingly small pieces of clothing and placed them on the foot of the bed. “Put this back on.”
Michelle noticed that he didn’t say, “Put this on.” He wanted it “back on.” He was one of the perverts on the street or on the bus that had seen her dressed in Jenny’s slutty clothes. Oh my god. This is all my fault. She just stared blankly at the clothing, hating herself for having worn the clothes she believed made this happen.
“Put it on, now!”
She reached for the clothing absent-mindedly, moving slowly. She picked up the top and held it.
“I am running out of patience with you. You’re going to do what I say and do it a fuck of a lot faster, or I’m going to do it, and I promise you, I won’t be nice about it. Now get out of those clothes and put on the sexy ones, right now, dammit!”
Michelle didn’t want to be here. She started to feel numb and could barely hear Drake’s voice. She knew what he wanted her to do though, and she knew if she didn’t obey, she was going to feel more pain. She pulled her shirt up over her head and tried to cover her bare breasts with one hand while reaching for the little top with her other hand.
“Yeah. That’s it. You little bitch. Put it on!”
Drake began undressing as he watched Michelle on the bed. He intended to fuck her until his dick fell off. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t done this a long time ago. What a fool he had been limiting himself to merely watching. He had always held back because he couldn’t think of how he could get away without a girl reporting him to the police. It was so obvious to him now what the solution was all along.
All he had to do was kill her when he was finished playing with her. He’d felt years of frustration because he’d never thought
of that solution. But that was about to change, and he couldn’t have started with a better piece of meat than the one in front of him. He started fondling himself as he walked to the side of the bed, closing the distance between himself and Michelle. She now had the tiny black top on but was still wearing her sweatpants.
“Look at me,” he growled.
She turned to the right and looked at him. He looked back at her starting with her face, then down to her barely concealed breasts. He reached out and tore the top off of her with one hand. She started to back away from him and he quickly reached out and slapped her face.
“Stay right fucking there, you bitch.” He handed the ripped top to her. “Wipe your goddamned face again. What’re you crying for, anyway? Isn’t this what all you bitches want? You don’t get to choose who you’re doing it with, but you’re still going to have fun. You should be happy. I promise you’re gonna enjoy this – maybe even as much as I am.”
Again, Michelle tried to cover her breasts with one arm while wiping the tears from her face. She silently prayed inside her head. “Please help me, God. Please help me, God.”
Forty-one
Deron finally stopped running when he reached Michelle’s front yard. He stopped under the tree with the long branches. He didn’t see her parents’ cars, but they could be in the garage. He needed a few minutes without being spotted so he could think. What would he say if her mom or dad opened the door when he knocked? What would he say if Michelle opened it? This was so bad.
There wasn’t really anything appropriate to say in his situation. He’d possibly killed two men. He shouldn’t be here. He should go to Charlie. Charlie would know what to do. Michelle was going to freak when he told her what he’d done. Charlie would just come up with a plan and help him. He was certain of it. That’s the kind of man his grandpa was. He took things in stride and always responded to a crisis with a calm and rational mind.
But he couldn’t go to Charlie’s. They might have his house staked out, waiting for him to show up there. Michelle was the only person he could go to right now that they wouldn’t know about. But he couldn’t see what good she could do and he didn’t know if she’d even be willing to help him. He needed to just get out of town. That’s what he would do. He’d get on a bus and go as far away as he could.
But first, he had to tell Michelle he was leaving. He had to say goodbye. That he’d never see her again. And he had to tell her that he loved her. Still breathing hard from his run, he straightened up and walked to her porch and pushed the doorbell button.
Drake grabbed Michelle’s legs, swung them to her right so she was fully facing him, then pulled her to the edge of the bed so she was now sitting and facing him as he kneeled on the carpet before the side of the bed. She had her arms crossed over her chest and he grabbed both of her wrists and pulled them away. He pushed her arms to her sides.
“Keep ‘em there!”
First, he just stared at her, drinking in her beauty and marveling at the fact that she was all his. He could have her at the instant he decided to. She was amazing. He couldn’t believe how perfect she was. He wanted this experience to last, but he couldn’t stand not touching her anymore and he finally reached for her. First he squeezed one of her breasts gently a few times then he drew his hand back and slapped it. He smiled like a madman. His eyes glazed over.
“You think you’re special, don’t you? Too good for the likes of me! What do you think now?” He slapped her other breast, then squeezed both of them really hard and moved forward to bite her when the doorbell rang.
Michelle was freed from her spell of frozen terror and screamed as loud as she could. Drake backhanded her with all the force he could muster, cutting off her scream as he did so. Michelle flew across the width of the bed and toppled over onto the floor near the window. She did not get back up.
Deron heard the scream and tried the doorknob. Despite the events of the last hour and the long run to get here, his body still responded with an adrenaline rush. The door was unlocked. He shoved it open and called out as he ran toward her room, “Michelle!? Where are you?”
Just as Charlie pulled up in front of Michelle’s house and looked at her porch, he saw what could have been Deron entering the house. But he couldn’t be sure of what he saw because the front yard had a massive tree with long hanging branches that blocked most of the view. He could see feet running and the bottom of someone’s legs, but that was it.
Drake stood just inside the doorway to Michelle’s room, waiting. He heard the door open, and then he heard someone quickly coming toward him. He held a lamp that he took from the nightstand next to Michelle’s bed. When Deron turned to enter the room, Drake swung the lamp down over the top of his head. Deron crumpled to the hallway floor.
Charlie put his car in Park and looked again at the stretch of hallway floor that he could see below the branches. The person he had seen running was now lying in the hall. And another person with bare legs was stepping over him and coming toward the door. Watching the person approach the front door, Charlie could just see enough through the branches to think that this man was possibly not wearing anything.
What the fuck was going on in there?
He didn’t know if that was Deron or not, but he was sure as hell going to find out. If it was, there would be hell to pay. He reached into the backseat and slid his shotgun out from the blanket that was wrapped around it. He pushed the safety off and slid the action just enough to visually confirm that a shell was chambered. He knew it was, but he still wanted to be 100% certain of it - especially if Deron might be in danger. If that was Deron lying on the floor, someone was going to be very sorry. Charlie had experienced quite enough bullshit in his life, and someone harming Deron would really be the final straw for him. He opened his car door and heard the front door of the house slam shut. He got out and ran around the tree and up to the porch. Of course, the door was locked.
Forty-two
Drake was getting extremely angry now. His head was throbbing, and his groin was throbbing even more. His hand was still bleeding. At least he wasn’t bleeding as badly as the stupid kid in the hallway. He stepped over Deron and into Michelle’s room. For a second he thought she’d gotten away when he saw the empty room, but then he remembered she had fallen off the bed.
He walked over to the other side of the room and saw her lying between the bed and the wall, below the window where he had first spotted her. He thought he should probably close the blinds since he was about to “get lucky.” He laughed and decided there was no one that was going to see him through this window. The only window peeper around was already in the house. He laughed some more.
He bent over and slipped his hands under Michelle’s torso and lifted her dead weight up onto the bed. He was glad she didn’t weigh much. He looked at her lying there and felt like he needed to get back into the groove he had been in before he was interrupted. He didn’t want her lying down. He wanted her sitting up. He tried to maneuver her into a sitting position against the headboard, but she kept sliding over one way or the other. He needed to wake her up.
Charlie was tempted to just shoot the lock right off the door, but there was still a tiny part of his mind that told him there could be an explanation for everything he’d seen so far. He needed to know what was actually going on inside. He rang the doorbell and waited. No one came. He rang it again.
Drake heard the doorbell and almost screamed in frustration and annoyance. God, couldn’t everyone just leave him the fuck alone? How many people just had to come over to see this little bitch right when he was about to have the fuck of his life? Just go the fuck away! He waited, listening for the doorbell to ring again but it didn’t. Finally, he thought.
But with all the action going on at this house, he knew he couldn’t spend hours with the girl the way he wanted to. He needed to just get on with it, fuck her once, maybe twice, then get the hell out of here.
Drake slipped his fingers under the waistband of Michelle’s sweatpant
s and pulled them all the way down and off of her, dropping them on the floor at the foot of the bed. Then he grabbed her feet and pulled her body toward him to better position her for what he was about to do.
He grabbed at her underwear and yanked it away. “You look so fucking sweet. And I’m gonna –“
Drake’s body flew across the room as the shotgun blast sent pellets and pieces of glass into the side of his face and head. He hit Michelle’s dresser and his nude body slid down to the floor just a few feet away from where Deron was lying.
Charlie crawled through the shattered window and put his shotgun down on the floor. He looked first at Michelle. Her lip was bleeding and her cheek was red as if she’d been hit. He looked at the rest of her, feeling uncomfortable as he did so, but needing to see if she was hurt anywhere else. She didn’t appear to be. He looked at Drake. He seemed to be dead, or if not, at least close enough. He looked at the body in the hall and now he could see that it was Deron. He ran over to him, stepping over Drake’s legs to get into the hall.
Deron was bleeding from his head. Charlie put his hand gently on Deron’s head and patted lightly, trying to find the source of the blood. He found it on top of his skull. It was cool and sticky. It seemed to be clotting.
“Deron. Can you hear me? Can you hear me, son?”
Deron opened his eyes and looked at Charlie who appeared out of focus. His head hurt like hell and he wanted to cry and go to sleep and wake up later to discover that nothing hellish had actually happened to him the last few days. It was just a really long and really bad dream.
“Charlie?”
“I’m here, son. Just relax for a moment. You’ve been hurt, but you’re going to be okay. I’ll be right back.”
2043 A.D. Page 18