Ruined

by Jw Grodt

  “Honey, there’s no one—”

  Pain shot through the back of his skull. He was blinded by an instant of white-hot light, then the black curtain of nausea and nothingness fell about him.

  * * *

  Voices surrounded him. “Jared?” he heard himself mumble. His head pounded and his mouth was dry. He peeled open one eye, then another, wincing as he did so. He was bound to one of the dining chairs, ankles zip-tied to the chair legs and his hands bound behind him in the same manner. A thick rope encircled his chest, lashing him to the back of the chair. As he shook off the fog in his head, he heard a commotion coming from the downstairs bedroom. All at once a tall, lean, sinewy man emerged from the bedroom. His long sandy hair hung in greasy strands. He had large crooked teeth, a black gap where one of his incisors had once been. He was yanking Nicole by her hair as he pulled her from behind. A second man, shorter, with a crew cut followed behind her. None of them had a stitch on. Brad blinked several times, trying to awaken himself. Surely he was hallucinating.

  “Let her alone!” he screamed. The wad of cloth in his mouth garbled his words.

  The man with the crew cut grabbed Nicole as the other one collapsed on the couch and began stroking himself. He looked at Brad as he did so, grinning his menacing, toothy smile. Nicole’s head was down, her hair hiding her face. She was crying and moaning, begging them to let her go. Crew Cut pushed her forward and forced her down on her knees, pushing her face into Long Hair’s crotch. She resisted, but Long Hair slapped her across the face and forced her down onto him.

  “Suck me, you whore, or you and old saggy nuts over there die!”

  She sobbed and gave in. Brad thought he was going to throw up around his gag when Crew Cut began to sodomize her. She screamed while Long Hair continues to slam her head into him. He fought to free himself but he was hopelessly restrained. Nicole’s cries made him writhe and groan and tears burst forth from the corners of his eyes.

  “God damn you!” he screamed behind his gag.

  Nicole’s screams became low moans…different now. Reminiscent. He watched as she submitted to both men, letting them do anything and everything with her. Her hair fell back from around her face and he saw her smile. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Was she pretending to enjoy it so they would stop? Was this some sort of ploy? He worked at his restraints in frenzied movements. He had to get to her.

  When they had sated themselves, the two men sat together on the leather couch, now smeared with sweat and other fluids. Nicole staggered toward him, her body no longer the taught, firm, tanned frame he remembered. She looked drained. He flinched when she put her face to his.

  “Did you like the show, Bradley? Did it seem like old times? Maybe it was like watching one those porn movies you used to keep stashed in your bedroom? You know, the ones you watched while you fantasized about me?”

  He looked at her, wishing he could speak. What the hell was going on?

  She spat at him and spun around. “You two want a beer?” she asked the two men, who gave him conquering leers.

  She retrieved three bottles from the fridge and sauntered back over to them.

  “We’ll need to have a photo session after we cool off, boys. My husband needs to see what a good time I’m having on my vacation.” She held the cool, brown glass of the bottle to her cheek, then tipped it back and chugged, her slender throat undulating as she swallowed.

  “Sure thing, baby. It’s your money,” Long Hair said.

  “Easiest fucking paycheck I ever got,” Crew Cut chimed in.

  Brad prayed he would pass out while they committed unspeakable acts on one another. The two men took turns with a disposable camera. What was Nicole doing? What had happened? What had he done? It was all so surreal. Surely he would wake up in some hotel room near Mesa any moment. Please, God.

  He tried not to watch as Nicole ordered the two men into various poses with her. At one point she insisted on having a white towel around her. One pose in particular, where she lay across the couch with her arms above her head, eyes closed, speechless, caused a flashback in his head. Only this time, he wasn’t so sentimental.

  When they had had their fill of whatever their purpose was, Nicole asked the two men to help her get Brad to the bedroom. He remembered nothing after that.

  When he awoke the next morning, he was intensely groggy. He had been drugged with something. He lay on his back, naked, his wrists and ankles tied to the four corners of the bed. The room was windowless. Other than the bed, there were no other furnishings. It all felt staged. He licked his parched lips. The gag was gone.

  “Good morning, dear. “How are you feeling this morning? Oh, never mind. Silly question.” Nicole sashayed into the room, wearing cut-offs and a halter. She had a beer in her hand.

  “Nicole, in God’s name, what the hell is this? Help me for Christ’s sake! I don’t understand. Is this some sick revenge? Good God, I never—”

  “Easy, baby. I don’t want you to have a stroke. All will become crystal clear shortly.”

  “But Nicole—”

  “Shut up or I’ll gag you again! Not another fucking word! You just listen. I’m going to tell you a story, part of which you already know. Actually, I think it might be better to read it. Here’s a journal I started keeping when I was eighteen. I think you’ll find it fascinating.”

  She tossed a pink, cloth-covered book onto the bed. It was decorated with teddy bears and hearts. It looked so out of place, so adolescent, Brad nearly laughed out loud. She walked over to him and released his wrists.

  “I have no more interest in you and certainly not your journal,” he replied with angry indifference.

  “Oh, I think you will. Gentlemen! He’s all yours!”

  Long Hair and Crew Cut entered the bedroom. Long Hair put a shotgun to his head while Crew Cut untied him and forced him onto his stomach. He felt the man’s hand shoving something greasy between his legs.

  “Oh, God, oh Jesus! No! Please, no!” Brad begged, cried and whimpered but his pleas went unheeded. What ensued was beyond any humiliation and pain he could have ever described. As both men took turns ripping him apart, he heard Nicole’s laughter rise above his screams. She sat in a folding chair she had brought from the other room and took pictures of the whole sick mess. Brad vomited onto the bed, his eyes stinging from the acid liquid as his face pressed into the mattress. He prayed he would die.

  When they stopped, Nicole put her face down close to his. Her beer breath made him want to vomit again. He wanted to choke her.

  “I hope you enjoyed that, sweetie,” she whispered. “Oh, don’t worry. There’ll be more. After all, you gave me my fair share, didn’t you? I promise to return the favor.”

  She left and the two men resumed their fun. Brad finally did pass out. As he plummeted into a black abyss, he prayed that somewhere at the bottom he’d find Jared, Julie, and forgiveness.

  He awoke with a start. Pain seared across his back in a sharp, burning streak. Nicole pranced around him in a see-through negligee, wielding a thin tree limb. Another whoosh and the limb fell across his bare buttocks. He screamed.

  “Nicole, why are you doing this? Let me go!”

  “Oh, I’m just getting started, Bradley!” She clenched her teeth and struck him again.

  “But Nicole, I loved—”

  She recoiled and hit him again with as much force as she could muster.

  “What’s that you were going to say? You ‘loved’ me? You sick bastard!”

  Out of nowhere he heard laughter. It took a few moments to register that it was his own laugh.

  “Don’t you laugh at me, you worthless son-of-a-bitch!”

  He laughed more and she beat him furiously. The more he laughed, the more she struck him, until she collapsed against the far wall, panting and cursing. Brad felt liquid running down his sides.

  “Oh bab
y, seems I’ve made a terrible mess of your back,” came her sinister cooing. “But I think you’ll not laugh at me again. Did you laugh that night when you ruined me! Did you think you were a big man? Bet you don’t feel so big now, huh? You know, Brad, my two friends think I should cut it off, and believe me nothing would please me more, but I’m afraid you might bleed to death and that just isn’t punishment enough to satisfy me. When the time comes I’ll think of a fitting way for you to die. Lying in some back alley, your penis painfully severed from your body, lying in filth and slowly bleeding to death.

  “Tell me,” Brad said, his voice cracking. “Did you ever love me, or Jared for that matter?”

  “Wow! Now isn’t that a rather strange question, given the fix you’re in? But no, I never loved Jared. I used him to get to you.”

  “So because of one bad thing that happened in your life, you’ve resorted to being a vengeful slut?”

  “Yes, I guess that’s what you would see, you sick, ignorant piece of shit! You think what you did to me was nothing, don’t you? It was just sex. No harm done, right? It was all just fine for you to throw your disgusting, nasty body on top of mine and have your way! You’ve more than made up for it with money, jewelry, cars, right? Do you know how hard it has been for me to let you touch me? I had to keep visualizing this moment just to get through your sloppy sex sessions. And believe me, Brad, you are no great lover! I puked after each time you touched me!”

  He started to respond but she told him to shut up and went on.

  “Do you know I was engaged when you raped me? My fiancé broke up with me after that, and you know why? Because there was no sign of a struggle that night. My parents even thought I had someone on the side. I begged them to believe me. The police questioned me over and over, accusing me of lying. I had been saving myself for the man I had dated all through high school. I was supposed to have an entirely different life! My parents were arguing over me when they hit that bus head-on in their car. My mother lived long enough to tell me that at the hospital. You destroyed, ruined my entire fucking life!”

  She stormed out of the room but quickly returned.

  “I don’t want your back to get infected—darling!” She poured cool water over his wounds. “Feel good?” He struggled to nod, and then she showed him a large, round blue container.

  “No!”

  She pulled open the little spout on top of the canister and as she poured the contents into his wounds he screamed in agony. “Don’t cry baby. The iodine in it will prevent infection.”

  She emptied the container on his back and tossed it in the corner. She called out to one of the men to come back in and told him to untie him. When he was loosened, he rolled over, moaning with pain as his flesh compressed. Long Hair stood over him, holding the shotgun. Nicole placed the journal from before on the side of the bed.

  “Well, I promised you some good reading material and here it is. Not very lengthy, but I’ll bet it answers a lot of your questions. Inside you will find a copy of the letter I have written and mailed to your son. Bon appetit!” she said with a sneer. She and Long Hair exited. He heard the sound of a deadbolt when the door closed.

  He slowly sat up, but became dizzy as soon as he sat erect. He lay back down, unable to remember the last time he had eaten or had any water. After listening for a while and hearing nothing, he assumed Nicole and his captors had gone outside or left. He stared at the innocent looking diary next to him. He opened it and the letter fell out.

  Dearest Jared,

  I know my leaving abruptly was unkind, but I couldn’t face you to tell you why I had no choice but to leave. I have agonized these many months since I left you, over if I should tell you or not. I have decided that you’re going to hurt no matter if I tell the truth or not. So here it is.

  You recall that I told you in my letter I lost my virginity and ability to bear children because I was raped. You’ll recall that I wrote I had no memory of the event. That was a lie. The man who did it was your father. I didn’t remember until one time after we were married and you were away. That was when your perverted father raped me again. He has blackmailed me, saying he would tell you I fucked him willingly, ever since. I’m so, so sorry Jared. I had to get away from your father and his endless pursuit of me whenever you were away. All the stories I created about being afraid to stay alone were just that: stories. Your father made me concoct the whole thing so he could have me to himself.

  I still love you Jared. I’ll never forget you.

  Nikki

  “Bitch!” he screamed. Jared would surely hate him now. He needed to get to him, to tell him everything: how this crazy, insane young woman had somehow duped them both. He wept uncontrollably. After a time, he opened the journal once more. On the inside cover page he read the bold, block letters. “JOURNAL FOR A RAPIST.”

  September 16, 2013: You RUINED me you fucking bastard! You’ve ruined everything I saved my life for. I may not have been conscious when you did it but I felt it the next day. Oh yes—and don’t think I don’t remember your face.

  Hatred welled in his gut. September 17, 2013: I told my parents what had happened, everything except my memory of your face. I’m saving that for me. Dad called the police. I had to submit to a medical exam. Because there were no signs of a struggle, the cops didn’t believe me. I overheard them ask my folks if I was promiscuous. I should have never told them.

  September 23, 2013: My Parents are dead. It’s all your fault, you bastard!

  September 16, 2014: It’s been one year since you came into my bedroom and ruined my life. Somehow I will make you pay. I know it’s just a matter of time.

  December 23, 2014: I found you! I saw you, you son of a bitch, standing in the checkout line at Wal-Mart! I abandoned my reason for being there and went outside and waited. I saw you loading your purchases in the trunk, got your make, model of car and tag number and locked it into my brain I will scour this town for you. I will find you, and you will pay.

  January 2, 2015: I saw you again as I stopped for the light at Center and Bismarck Streets. You were pulling out of the Shell Station on the corner. I followed you to your home, located at 123 Walnut Drive. I hurried home and googled the county tax records and there you were, you bastard. Bradley J. Wallace is your name and now I’ve got you! I found that you are a widower with one son named Jared. A five-year spread in our ages isn’t too bad. Through him I’ll get to you!

  February 5, 2015: It’s taken a while but I finally found someone who knows Jared. I plan to have her introduce us. I wonder if you have ruined any other young girls since you raped me? Maybe I wasn’t your first?

  February 17, 2015: This evening I met Jared Wallace, thanks to my friend Jayme. We met at Rockabyes Night Club. I was pleased that he was better looking than I expected. Must come from your dead wife’s side. Your wife, lucky for her she’s dead. She must have wanted to die, being married to a jerk like you.

  I know I’ll get you for sure now; it’s just a matter of time and I’ll have you exactly where I want you.

  April 12, 2015: Jared and I have been almost inseparable since we met. I’ve made him think he’s a king, given him everything he wants—well almost everything, and he has confessed his love for me. I’ll get him to marry me sooner or later and then I’ll be able to get to you.

  June 29, 2015: Tonight I will be face to face with you for the first time since you ruined me. Maybe the shock will kill you, wouldn’t that be a real shame?

  June 30, 2015: You damn near pissed your pants when you saw me! The fear in your eyes was priceless. I wished I could have made you squirm a lot longer. I’ll have plenty of opportunities, though. I just have to be patient.

  August 25, 2015: Jared and I were married today and I’ll have to tolerate ten days of fucking him constantly. He must get his relentless sex drive from you. Whatever. Right now I’d even fuck you if I thought it would kill you.

&n
bsp; February 25, 2016: This is Jared’s first trip away, leaving you and me alone together; let the games begin!

  June 15, 2016: You want me; you’re so fucking obvious. I am beginning to make you crazy.

  July 8, 2016: You think you’re so fucking clever, bought us a townhouse. I’m getting to you so you think you’ll shake me? You’re not smart enough. You’re a stupid old lech, fumbling about with your hard-on, not knowing what to do with yourself.

  August 5, 2016: You had a date with the bimbo and the next morning I served myself to you on a silver platter, but to my surprise you didn’t do as expected. This situation has to change.

  December 25, 2016: You told us that you and April are now officially engaged. She will not spoil my plans for you.

  March 15, 2017: Today we buried April. You’re all sad and shit, yet you want me so bad you can hardly stand it. I wanted to scream out at the cemetery, “I killed her!” Really though, YOU killed her! Had you never raped me, several other people would still be alive and well.

  September 3, 2017: I threw up after I let you fuck me today. I now have you at my mercy. You are about to finally get what’s coming to you, you sick, slimy creep.

  December 13, 2017:

  This is where the journal ends and your misery begins.

  A letter will be sent to the police in Virginia telling them that your raped me when I was a minor. The statute of limitations is not up as yet. You won’t be able to run far enough to avoid your punishment.

  Brad, I hope it was worth it!

  He heard the door unlocking and she walked in. She was wrapped in her usual white towel. It was all a game to her. She took the journal from his hands. He considered choking her, but he could hear the two men stirring outside the room.

  “Would you like to do me again?” She opened the towel and dangled her tits in his face. Jesus! He started to get an erection. He reached out to caress one of them, but she backed up and wrapped the towel around herself, laughed and walked out. Long Hair and Crew Cut came in and took his clothes, money and personal effects. He saw the syringe in Crew Cut’s hand.