by Ales Matko
''Who is this?''
''It’s Abigail, Katja’s roommate.''
Dora was so scattered-brained that it took a few moments for her to actually remember Katja had a roommate.
''Oh, right. It’s Dora, by the way.''
''Oh, Dora!'' Abigail enthused. ''I haven’t seen you in forever! How are you? Are you still painting?''
''Yes. Do you know when Katja’s coming back?''
''She’s at work. She gets off at two, but she usually goes to her boyfriend's from there, so I really couldn’t say when she'll be back.''
''OK. Can you please just tell her to call me back? The number is ...'' Dora said, realizing she had no idea what the number was.
''The one you’re calling from? We have caller ID.''
''Yes, thanks.''
''I’ll write it down so I don’t forget. Take care, Dora.''
She put the phone down and sat on the sofa for a few minutes, staring vacantly at the equally vacant living room walls. She shivered. That wet cold was starting to creep in.
''I think I'd like to take you up on that shower now,'' she said, heading over to the the kitchen and stopping at the doorframe.
The sink in front of Nicolaus was full of pleasant smelling foam. There was some on his chin as well.
''I’ve been renovating the place for the better part of a year now,'' he said as he took her to the bathroom. ''Thanks to a Racoon infestation, believe it or not. They’re stubborn little vermin.''
Dora thanked him and closed the bathroom door.
Undressing and then stepping into the shower, she let the hot water massage her scalp and tried to breathe deeply and relax. She thought about how awkward the conversation with Greta was going to be; she knew that she would have to go back and get her bag, for she still fully intended to leave Graufirst.
''I may have overreacted, but all this is just too strange for me,'' she said to the little yellow duck soap holder. ''I don’t care how badly I end up offending Greta.''
Nicolaus knocked on the door and cracked it just a tad.
''I brought you some dry clothes,'' he said through the tiny gap. ''I hope they fit. My sister’s a bit on the chubby side.''
''They’re fine,'' Dora said.
Nicolaus went quiet and Dora saw his silhouette lingering by the door. It looked as though he intended to leave, then suddenly decided to step back.
''Dora ...'' he said, then went quiet again.
''Yes?''
''No, it’s just uhm ... I just wanted you to know that I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you is all.''
A few more seconds of silence elapsed before he continued.
''I know it seems weird, me saying that, what with us knowing each-other so briefly, but I really like you. At the risk of sounding corny - it’s been a while since I liked a woman as much as I like you ... You’re so pretty and smart and ... Anyway, again, just wanted to let you know that I’m watching out for you no matter what. And if someone tries to harm you, they’ll have to deal with me. Because I ... Well ... If you need anything, you just let me know.''
''Nicolaus.''
''Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll leave you to it now.''
''Nicolaus.''
He peeked in from behind the door, only to find the glass door open and Dora standing there nude.
''Are you coming or not?''
He didn’t bother taking the time to undress. He rushed in and pulled her lips to his, reaching instinctively for her hip.
Dora closed her eyes, feeling his hands exploring, his kisses lingering on her neck. He moved fast and hungry as if he almost didn’t believe this was happening and wanted to make the most of the illusion before it vanished. Dora also wasn't sure if all this was really going on. It was so unlike her! But letting go after all that excitement and terror felt really good.
And so did his tongue, sliding down from her neck, stopping at her breast, working the nipple for a few moments and then proceeding further downwards.
For the next little while at least, Dora would forget all about Graufirst.
18
The noises they were making made Dora appreciate the seclusion of the house. A river of hormones came boiling out through her pores and was washed away by the water, forming a sea of lust down by their feet.
They switched locations three times. After the bathroom it was the hallway. Then the living room. Then the kitchen.
In the end, she found herself leaning on the counter, breathing heavily and moaning, wearing nothing but an unbuttoned bra that she must have attempted to put on at some point. She was still bent forward, traces of her last orgasm reverberating throughout her body.
Nicolaus retreated to the living room, exhausted but satisfied.
She stood up, buttoned her bra and walked over, looking for something to cover up with.
''Dora, that was ...'' Nicolaus shook his head, lost for words. He was reclining spread-eagle on the sofa, breathing deeply and slowly.
''I don’t usually do these sorts of things,'' she replied, not entirely sure who she was trying to convince. ''I’m not that easy. But it was all so overwhelming and you were just so reassuring and ... Well, rugged.''
Rugged was the right word: a hairy chest, muscular build more suggestive of a physical laborer than a teacher, and something primal in his wolfy eyes – or at least what was left of it after the last orgasm.
He reached out, took her hand and kissed it, then pulled her on top of him.
''Stop it. I need to get dressed,'' she protested with a noticeable lack of conviction. ''And then I need to get back to the Dietrichs and find some way to sort all this out.''
''God you’re so pretty. I think I’m in love with you, Dora.''
Right then, the phone rang.
''That may be my friend Katja. I told her to call here when she got home.''
She answered the phone.
''Hello?''
Nicolaus came up behind her and started nibbling on her neck. But all of the guilty pleasure she felt as he entered her from behind dissipated the instant she heard the frantic voice of Katja Emner.
''Dora! Listen to me, you’re in grave danger! Get on the first bus out of there! That town, Graufirst ... Jesus Christ, Dora ... Are you there?''
''Yes,'' she muttered, unable to say anything else as all the brutal emotions from a few hours before came back and hit her like a truck.
''... You had me worried yesterday. I looked up the Dietrichs' number but couldn’t reach you there. Some woman answered and said I had the wrong number. Then today I went to visit Tomislav, a friend from our conspiracy theory group. He’s into computers and hacking and all that stuff, but listen to this, Dora - he dug up something about Graufirst. There’s been a number of women, at least five, that have disappeared in that town, but it's all been covered up. And no wonder! Whatever is going on over there, it’s bad!''
''Nice to hear from you too, Katja,'' Dora heard herself say in a robotic monotone, trying not to sound alarmed as Nicolaus continued thrusting into her from behind, his breathing getting faster.
''Nice to hear from you? Dora, did you hear what I just said? Oh my God ... Are you drugged? Do they have you drugged?''
''No, I’m ...''
''God, you're beautiful,'' Nicolaus growled.
''Dora, are you fucking someone? Sweet mother of God I can’t believe it! I’m coming to get you right now! Stay put, I’m on my way!''
Nicolaus started to moan, his grip tightening to the point of being painful. ''Oh God, I’m gonna come.''
The pumping of adrenaline made Dora feel sick to her stomach. She screamed and spun around, barely managing to pry herself away from his sweaty grip.
''What the hell?'' he gasped, his mouth twitching in bewilderment.
Dora didn’t answer, but ran to the kitchen and returned holding a knife.
''There’s nothing going on here, eh?'' she screamed, swinging the blade at Nicolaus, whose erection was quickly becoming little more than a fond memory. He jum
ped back, hitting the base of the armchair and falling backwards.
''Have you lost your fucking mind?'' he bellowed, fumbling back to his feet.
''You threw sand into my eyes then fucked me, the naive visitor who you intend to do God knows what with! I knew it! This whole town is corrupt and wicked! But I won’t let you fool me again, so help me God! I'm onto you now!''
Suddenly Katja's squeaky voice could be heard screeching through the receiver. ''Stab him, Dora! Stab him!''
''Calm the hell down, Dora! You’re hysterical!''
''The women, the missing women!'' she pointed to the phone with the tip of the knife. ''When were you going to tell me, sugar? After you’d emptied yourself in me for the tenth time? Or were you planning to tie me up and throw me in a ditch somewhere while all the residents of this satanic backwater watched and applauded?''
Nicolaus’s face clouded over.
''Dora, you’ve got the wrong end of the stick entirely.'' But something in his voice had changed. ''Now listen to me ...'' he said, attempting to move close enough to snatch the blade from her. But her senses were on red alert. She lashed out at him with the steel blade, gashing his hand.
''Ah! You crazy bitch!'' he raged, jumping back and grabbing his wounded hand to stem the flow of blood.
Dora turned and ran towards the front door, Nicolaus hot on her heels. She grabbed the door knob, but he grabbed her from behind again before she could open it – this time with very different intentions.
In her panic, the knife fell from her hands.
''Help! Help me!'' she screamed to no one in particular.
''Be quiet!''
''Someone please help me!''
''No-one will hear you, Dora! And even if th...Dora!''
With his cut bleeding profusely, his grip was weak. Mustering every ounce of strength she had, Dora wriggled free and made a break for the next room.
''Fucking bitch! Fucking cut me!''
She had no idea where she was running. She stormed blindly down a hallway and entered a pantry though one door and exited through another, slamming the doors behind her as she ran. At last she sprinted up the stairs.
For a moment it seemed Nicolaus had given up on the pursuit. But the reality was that after seeing her run up, he had sprinted to the living room and picked up something from one of the cupboards.
Dora now found herself trapped on the dismal upper storey. The windows were boarded up from the inside. She was like a fly in a tunnel of spider webs. She ran down the corridor and into what appeared to be a trophy room.
''You dirty little ...'' Nicolaus groaned as he slowly climbed the stairs, tightening a tourniquet below the cut. ''I just want to talk, Dora.''
She almost let a little squeal escape as he reached the top of the stairway and she glimpsed his shadow in the hallway. She crouched in a dark corner behind an old credenda, trying to make herself as tiny as she possibly could.
''I’m sorry for calling you a bitch, Dora,’’ Nicolaus said, walking slowly down the hallway. ‘‘But look at the nasty cut you gave me - you do realise I’m going to need stitches, right? You could have killed me ... I didn’t want it to go down like this, honest to God. But it’s your fault that all of this is even happening, you know. If you’d just not poked around constantly … I tried to explain to them - I said this girl is a trouper, we need to treat her special. Things will turn south fast if she sniffs something out. And so it...Dora? Are you in here?''
His voice became inaudible. Apparently he had entered another room. Dora knew if there were ever a time to make a run for it, now would be that time.
She stood up from her hiding spot and, holding her breath, tip-toed over to the door, and waited.
Nothing.
Gathering her courage, she slowly peeked out from behind the door frame.
''Got you!''
He grabbed her hand and pulled her out into the hallway.
''It’s tough love, Dora.''
She screamed and tried to push him away, but he pinned her down on the floor. She saw that he was holding a syringe in his hand.
''Now this is gonna sting slightly,'' he muttered, straining to keep her steady and unaware of where she'd managed to position her left hand. ''But you've left me no cho...Aaaaah!''
He shot off her as if he'd been stung by an African hornet. The syringe flew out of his hand and he collapsed to the floor, holding his crotch in agony.
Seizing the opportunity, Dora picked up the needle and jammed it into Nicolaus' calf, pressing the bluish liquid into the muscle.
He screamed again and lunged forward, repositioning himself back on top of her, but it was too late. His breathing slowed down, a narcotic drowsiness in his eyes. In a matter of seconds he became dead weight.
Dora pushed him off, got up and ran down the stairs, grabbing the car keys from the cupboard by the door.
She threw herself into the old SUV, turned on the ignition and roared backwards out of the muddy driveway.
Speeding down the country road, she reached the corn fields. With freedom already in sight, she lost control of the car on a sharp curve, hydroplaned off the road and crashed into a tall oak tree.
19
''I’m gonna call mom.''
''Don’t! She’ll freak out!''
''You just want to stare at her boobies.''
''I do not!''
''Do too!''
''Do not!''
''Do too!''
Dora felt like a two-man saw was tearing through various parts of her body, mostly the head. The air bag was busted but it probably saved her life. Every breath added pulmonary pain to her not-so-little list of hurting spots.
Through the cracked glass, she noticed the faces of two little kids, a boy and a girl, both wet from rain. They were staring at her, terrified. She groaned, unable to find enough strength to open the door. She felt like all her bones were broken.
''That’s it. I’m calling mom.''
The girl turned around and started running while the boy just stood there.
The car was a wreck; smoke was coming from under the hood.
A few minutes later, the girl returned with her mother, a lanky woman with slightly squinty eyes and a wild bushy haircut that even the raging monsoon couldn't beat down.
''Help me,'' Dora mumbled, having no other option but to trust this complete stranger.
The woman muttered something under her breath, then yanked opened the door, assessed that the driver was not injured, and helped her out.
''You’ll be all right, I think. Someone up there must really like you,'' she said in a high-pitch voice.
''Likes me?'' Dora moaned, rolling her eyes.
''Those sons of bitches. So they got another one, huh? Well I’m not letting them do this to you. Not this time ... Are you okay to walk?'' She put Dora’s arm around her shoulders and helped her walk, with the kids bickering on the opposite end about who was going to hold Dora's other hand.
''I’ll give you some clothes and then my husband will drive you far away from here. Monsters, that’s what they are! You should have never come here. Did you come on your own initiative, or did they bait you to get you here?''
''The women ... The missing women,'' Dora managed to squeeze out through her constricted throat, not sure herself whether this was a statement or a question.
''The women, yes, at least seven or eight of them. Don’t know exactly what happened to them, but there are rumors. Ugly ones. Let me tell you, it is not without reason that there are always two shells in my shotgun, and the trigger set mighty soft. No-one is to be trusted out here!''
''Are you going to kill me?'' Dora asked just then.
The woman seemed insulted by the question.
''Don’t be ridiculous, of course not! We’ll get you out of here! It’s them that you need to be afraid of.''
''Who the hell is them?'' Dora cried.
The woman didn’t answer. She suddenly came to a full stop, staring ahead at two sets of headlights off in the
distance. One of the vehicles appeared to be parked, while the other was slowly closing in through the meadow, a few silhouettes dancing in the lights in front of it.
''Run.''
''But ... But where ...''
''Run!''
The woman pushed Dora back in the direction they came and it took all her strength not to collapse.
''I’ll try to hold them back, but ... Are you deaf? I said run!''
Dora stood there for a moment as the woman and her kids went towards the emerging headlights, then she finally stumbled in the opposite direction and broke into a run that sent jolts of pain through her bones with each step. But she didn’t stop. She knew if she got caught this time, that would be the end of it.
Passing the wrecked SUV, she pressed on with every last bit of strength she had. But the roaring of the car engine was closing in on her.
They would catch her, not in a matter of minutes, but seconds. So she did the only thing that she could do - she limped towards a nearby corn field and leaped into the thick foliage.
Reaching a clearing, she finally paused and listened, catching her breath. Every sound was masked by the fizzing of the corn leaves.
All of a sudden, she heard a squishing sound nearby. They were in the cornfield. And they were closing in. Still dizzy from the car crash, she spun around and took a tumble into the brown slush that was all around her.
Clomp, clamp, clomp, clamp, clomp ... The footsteps came splashing through the soft wet ground, so close that she almost let out a scream. But this splashing continued on past her, followed by another set of feet. Only these stopped close by and didn’t go on.
There was a pair of sturdy boots to the left and right of her head. She couldn't tell whether the person towering silently over her was a man or a woman, but before she could react at all, whoever it was suddenly continued on without a word. It wasn't until Dora saw the back of the silhouette that she could see it was a man in a dark raincoat.
She spat out the dirt in her mouth and waited, listening intently. Finally she got up and headed in the opposite direction, covered head to toe in mud.
Reaching the edge of the corn field, she observed the rainy and slightly foggy surroundings. She saw no-one and so she ran up the hill and into the cover of the bushes.