15 years ago

 

It was past 10 pm, and his patience was growing very weak. He knew she was at dinner, but he didn’t give a shit. She had to know what she was getting herself into when she asked him for his help back at the villa. It was time to get what he deserved, and regardless of what she had in mind, he wanted her, and he wanted her right now. It was time to pay her dues.

 

Finally, he heard her heels clicking the long hall. She came back to her room.

Perfect.

She was alone just as he expected. He watched Marlena from a closet as she entered the room and locked the door behind her. It was tempting to jump out now, but he needed to be patient. He had to catch her completely off guard and without warning, or she would fight him back, she knew how.

 

She kicked off her shoes and pulled off her blouse, and he admired the curves of her body in her white tank top and tight dark jeans. How come he had waited for so long? Stefano’s fucking rules. He might be the boss, but tonight, he wasn’t the one calling the shots.

 

Her tits were perfect, full and perky, and right now her nipples were hard, poking right through the thin material of her tank. Her ass was round and tight.

His dick throbbed thinking about the things he would do to her. Now if this woman would just go to the other room, he could get started. Her door faced the main corridor, and she would scream. Her inner room, on the other hand, was towards the back of the mansion and faced the backyard. Wrestling on a bed was much quieter than a desk filled with her random bullshit.

 

How many fucking knickknacks does one human being require? Was that a porcelain tea set? In his mind, he was putting her out of her misery.

She should thank him.

She thought she was somewhat safe. But she didn’t understand that tonight was the night she would die.

 

Present days (1998)

 

Fernando went down the stairs, and she flew from where she stood, bringing Belle and her bunny blanket up to her protective arms, closing her fingers in a tight grip around Brady’s little hand. Her feet carrying her out of the apartment before she’d given thought to the consequences. The exit pulled at her like a net, as if dragging her from the depths of terrifying deep sea. Her momentum slammed her into the door, shaking the chair by the door, John’s Jacket that he wore last night fell on the wooden floor. Quickly her hand left Brady’s to grab the black piece of clothing, and she pulled his hand back to hers, pulling the boy right behind her.

 

She hoisted the chair on the floor, launched it behind her, and prayed the obstacle slowed his thundering footfalls. That was when she spotted her car keys on the small vanity. She grasped at them with one trembling hand while the other was holding her daughter while fighting with the knob, panic took root in her fingertips. Finally, she flung the door open, catapulted off the door, and ran toward the elevator with the kids; they kept on asking questions.

 

Questions she had no answers too.

 

And in that moment,she looked at him again. Her blood froze in her veins. He was standing in the back, watching her. She could feel his eyes on her, even from a distance. Somehow she made her way out without falling. Her legs are trembling, and her breathing was much faster than normal.

 

He smiled, and in the dim lighting of her penthouse, his teeth flashed and a shadow crossed his face, and for a second, he looked like one of those evil clowns in the stores at Halloween.

His lack of words unnerved her, and she whirled, expecting to find him on her heels, but he hadn’t ventured further than a foot from the door.

His expression was dark and angry, his green eyes narrowed at her. She was breathing hard, and her heart was beating so fast she felt like it might jump out of her chest. They looked at each other—predator and prey, the conqueror and the conquered—and in that moment, she felt an odd sort of connection to him. Like a part of herself was forever altered by what’s happening between them.

She sucked in a quiet breath and followed him with her gaze, taking in the nothingness surrounding them — the black void of dawn and his eye. Outside, a vast canvas of ray lights lit the sky.

She could try and reach the car, take the children to Chelsea's. Tightening her grip on the kids and keys, she pushed one key out to use as a weapon and took a step away from him, toward the edge of the hall. He underestimated what a mother was capable of when it came to her children’s survival. He was right there in front of them. She also didn’t have any shoes—another nail in the coffin of things that would slow her down.

 

She could make a run for it, hope to find help. Hope he didn’t take hold of the children. Eventually, she would get away. But knowing Fernando, he did have a car, and he’d pick up her trial in no time. As if her desperate thoughts blinked on her forehead in neon glory, the curve of his mouth turned cruel.

 

He just stared at her, taking few steps every few seconds. A threat dangled in that movement.
A promise. She could run, but if he caught her, she’d find out what he was truly capable of, he was not himself, not that she missed that man, but at least she knew how to deal with that man, or at least that what she was telling herself. Marlena took another step anyway, despite the unmistakable lump of fear clogging her throat.

“Momma, I’m hungry, could we just go inside?” the little boy mewled with a yawn.

Despite the sound of the children’s happy cheppers to the mention of food she ignored it, her gaze zigzagged in every direction, searching, hoping.

 

So many ideas and she had no idea what waited beyond any of them. Hopelessness crawled down her spine, an inescapable chill that threatened to ice her blood. He had nothing holding him back now.

 

In the twitch of an eye, She turned and fled through the building's stairs.

 

15 years ago

 

She cried out, but the sound was muffled by his hand. He held her, firmly against him, waiting out her thrashing. Her legs flailed into the cupboard, knocking over a bottle of water that exploded on the floor. Another kick pulled out a shelf and boxes slid to the floor. In a way, she knew this was coming, but it didn’t make her any less frightened as adrenaline flooded her body.

 

He did say she would pay.

 

Her heart revved up. She felt stronger, as though her muscles were supercharged, she was in great shape these days, but even still, his grip on her was firm. And while she was more alert, there was a strange fog surrounding her thoughts. She had all this fresh mental energy from the terror, but she was unable to focus on anything other than his hand on her mouth.

 

She just needed to get his hand off her mouth. But that guy was made of stone: heavy, massive, dense. She could tell he was only using a fraction of his strength against her, while she was using everything she had, and losing energy with each kick. Then her mind jumped to something she heard before, the memory was hazy, but she could hear the words in her head, the voice mentioned; that no matter how scared it was, how it felt like a failure, that eventually it went with it.

 

Suddenly, Marlena realized her only way to freedom was passivity. She breathed heavily into the man’s gloved hand as she tried and relaxed her body. At that moment, her senses became sharp. She could feel the bulges of his muscles pressing against her body. She could smell him: slight hints of musk, mixed with his body chemistry. He was warm, and his warmth spread to her exposed shoulders and through the fabric of her clothing.

 

As she forced herself to relax, the tension of his grip subsided, and she noticed they panted in unison, his chest expanding into the curve of her upper back with each breath they took. Eventually, aside from her heavy panting, she became still. “I am going to move my hand from your face, but don’t fucking scream. You scream, and I will fuck you up. Do you understand?” he asked. His voice was deep and rich; it sent chills through her core. Goosebumps raised on her arms and neck. She nodded her head frantically. He slowly slid away his hand.

 

He was there. And that was when she felt the thick rock-hardness pressing on her backside.

“Why are you doing this?”

“We had a deal” his breath tickled her ear. The way this massive man stood above her, his scent, the deepness of his voice, the feeling of his desire for her pressing into her back. There were no pleasantries, no further explanations; it was a man who wanted to fuck a woman. Not just fuck her, but hurt her.

 

Marlena was scared, despite his hooded face, she knew who came to claim his reward.

Disobeying him would lead to death, he killed before, she was a witness, and she was almost paralyzed with fear.

He pressed his groin against her and craned her neck to the back. His firm grip on her loosened as she spun to face him. The glow of the moonlight cast on him and gave her a shadowy view of him: and he was well-dressed, in a black tailored suit with a white shirt, no tie. He just came back from the main hall too. But she couldn’t see his face, because it was covered in a ski mask. She knew who he was and she wondered for the existence of that mask. All she saw were two eyes staring back at her and a set of lips peeking through the mouth hole. There was a moment of stillness. It may have only been a second, but the adrenaline made everything feel fast and slow at the same time.

 

Tentatively, she reached out to search for her gun on the desk behind her, and his large hand snapped up and snatched her wrist painfully, twisting it. “Ahhh,” she called out in pain. But the pain was fleeting; it was more of a reminder that it is meant to hurt.

“Shut the fuck up, Marlena,” he said coarsely. And she did. She didn’t say a word, but their heavy breathing filled the quiet air of her room. The window closed with a thud, and the entire room got dark. The leather glove slid up her stomach, over her nipple, up her neck and roughly yanked her golden hair.

Again she called out. His other hand covered her mouth. “Shhhhh...behave” The length of his erection pressed against her stomach and again, quickly, she shifted away from it.

 

“I came here to collect my reward” pressing harder against her, “so stop fighting me” She bit her lip. She could stop this; she could make him go away. Could she? She had the physical strength, but he was stronger.

 

She stared at him as he pushed her against the cupboard, the cold wood contrasting with the warmness of his body. She mewled, a combination of pain and fear to his overwhelming will. She knew how strong he was; she wouldn’t stand a chance. She knew what she was getting herself into when she asked for his help. How stupid was that? Why couldn’t she just finish it all by herself?

 

Then he bit her neck. Tenderly at first, like a love bite, and then he dug in hard, so hard, an alarming pain jolted through her flesh and instinctively, she flailed her fists at him. He caught them and twisted them behind her back. The spot where he bit radiated with pain so that she felt his mark on a spot where he wasn’t even touching her any longer. The way he branded her with his mouth like that made her whimper.

“No, leave me alone!”

The dark figure dragged her to the other room, bumping into a chair as she fought to free her arms, and threw her down on the rug, face first.

His hand pressed on the small of her back to still her as she felt the cold blade touching her flesh. Her almost passive acceptance up until that point made way for defiance as she unintentionally bucked her ass against his crotch. She was surprised that she was able to move his solid mass, a side effect of the adrenaline coursing through her muscles. But he reacted by bearing his weight down on her, rendering her ability to budge. Frustration and anger boiled through her.

 

Images of slits on her skin and blood pervaded her thoughts, and she gasped for oxygen, choking on panic, unable to push out air to form a word. Finally, a sound emerged from her throat, “P-Please…”

Just as she was about to scream something about knives, she heard the threads of her tank tearing as the stretchy material snapped away from her body, the blade cutting through it like warm butter.

 

The drafty air tan over her exposed skin and in that moment she realized this was really happening. She was in that big Maison, face down, and topless with a man she made a promise too. Her agreement had arrived at a point that she couldn’t simply write off as poor judgment, or even a few glasses of wine. She was making a clear decision in the heat of the moment.

He rolled her over on her back; her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and the moonlight sifting through the windows gave her another view of him. His suit jacket was now gone. He straddled her, heaving like a beast in heat.  

 

The tension built.

 

He needed to touch her, to be relieved of the tension that was throbbing from his groin to the rest of his body. Using her new found freedom, she reached out and slapped his face, and again he grabbed her wrists. There was another moment of stillness, as she waited for what he will do to her, and then he slammed her hands on the floor above her. He collected her wrists into one hand, while reaching down to her breasts, firmed with arousal, and pinched her nipple. She moaned and gyrated her hips in response, trying to loosen his grip on her.

“Stay still,” he commanded, squeezing hard on her wrists. Marlena winced in pain, “Please...” she begged submissively, “Stefano would not approve of this...Let me go,” she said, her voice quivering from a vague sense of fear.

He leaned over her, his hand still pinning her arms to the floor, his bodyweight straddled over hers, and there was just a hollow silence in the dark room. But after a few tense seconds, her ears trained on the sound of their breathing, her eyes scanned the room, trying to find a way out of that terrifying situation. Then without warning, he thrust the mask up, wearing it like a hat, so that she could see some of his face.

“Let me g-“ Before her though came to an end, he dived down, mouthing her breasts, his stubble scratching against her soft skin. He bit her again so that she writhed against him, fighting him. “No!” She called out. His mouth was all over her torso, savagely kissing, biting, consuming.

Her body fought him, again trying to buck him off of her. She knew it was pointless, he was way too strong, and she did promise him something in return to what he did, what he did when she simply couldn’t move, paralyzed with fear. Every action of hers received an equal but opposite reaction. The more she fought, the closer he got. His body pressed against hers, rendering her helpless.

 

She didn’t know much, much of him, of that place, of her abilities. Whenever her mind drifted to the dark fields of the unknown, a colossal headache used to pierced her brain.

 

He pulled both of his hands away from her to unbutton her jeans and then he reached for the knife. Her eyes grew with fear. He slid the flat side of the knife under the open crotch of her jeans and then turned the blade up and out, cutting through the denim. Once there was a slash, he took his two strong hands and ripped the jeans effortlessly, tearing the fabric away from her body and exposing her to him. A piece of lace was now the only barrier between her and him. He used the knife to pluck at the two strings securing the underwear to her hips. They snap away effortlessly, and he balled up the panties in his hand and squeezed her cheeks roughly.

 

“Open your mouth.” her jaw tensed, as he used his leather-covered hand to squeeze her cheeks so he could shove her panties into her mouth. It was almost too much: the filth, the trepidation. It was like she was teetering on the edge of a building and losing her balance. It was that heightened feeling of terror you feel as you fight to keep your footing, except, while that feeling usually lasts just a second or two, this was persistent and unrelenting.

 

“Don’t move your hands, you don’t want to lose a finger now, do you?” he said. She hasn’t moved them since he pinned them overhead. His message was loud and clear long before he had to utter the words. She watched in heady, adrenaline-fueled eyes as he pulled open his belt, and the leather-clad hand reached in to pull out his cock. She caught herself gasping at its outline in the shadowy room.

 

He reached down and grabbed her by her golden hair, pulling her to a seated position. He glided the panties out of her mouth as a magician would. “Lick it.” She hesitated, her head spinning from the constant level change. He still held his hard dick in his hand, just in front of her lips. With each deep breath she took, they grazed his head before her mouth shrank away from it. He tightened his grip on her hair, jerking her head ever so slightly in silent insistence. Until this point, this was a violent dance, with him taking the lead. But that was all it was. If she did what he asked—told—her to do, she will forever be a different Marlena. But, does it really matter? Who was she anyway?

 

There was no going back. She knew him, and he had left her no choice. And then hesitantly, but obediently, she faintly stuck her tongue out right at the very tip of his cock, and she tasted him. And he became greedier.

“Suck it, Marlena.” His hands reached back, and his fingers combed through her hair, leading her head at the pace he wanted.

 

He wanted.

 

His mouth was closed, but raspy groans escaped the back of his throat, and she feared he might release before she was able to pull away. So, she pulled away. She knew he will anger, but she didn’t care. She looked straight into his eyes, and she begged without saying a word.

 

“You want me to fuck you,” he replied. It was not really a question; it was more of a statement. She didn’t say anything, but she continued to plead with her eyes. He smirked a smug, cocky smirk. Then he shoved her mouth back onto him, and she continued. He fucked her mouth with no concern for her comfort, shoving himself to the back of her throat.

 

Then he pulled out of her mouth. He was going to fuck her. He placed his cool leather hands on her inner thighs and angrily pushed them apart. Her initial reaction was to resist, a sheer reflex to the force of his movement. His face disappears below as she felt his tongue slid inside of her. She moaned loudly, her legs reacted by trying to push him, but he clamped down on her inner thighs with his fingers, and the sensitive nerves in that area screamed in pain. She sobbed, as the alarming pain dulled into her body.

The man ran a flat tongue up her entire opening, lapping up the juice he has summoned from her body. She shuddered from the overwhelming movements of his mouth on her.

 

She bellowed like an animal as he sucked on her clit; his tongue and lips continue to dance along her center. “We’re not done.” His words vibrated into her sensitive flesh. He pulled her up to her knees, and she fell forward into his chest. It was like a wall, and it reminded her how vulnerable she really was. He handled her like she was a doll, like she has no substance. Maybe that was what she was to him: a living, breathing sex toy. Her eyes filled with tears.

 

Marlena’s neck was whipped back by a firm tug on her hair. “Get up.” He stood and brought her to her feet by her beautiful silky hair, dragging her to her couch. He threw her face-first onto it, so that she was on her knees, her chest resting against the backrest. His hands roughly pulled on her hips to prop her ass out. His swollen head rubber up and down her slit. She bit her lips and scrunched her face from the agony of his torture. She couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that this was rape, yes, she owned him for what he did, but this was not the way to get even. His fingers raked through her hair.

“Beg for it.”

Her chest quivered. How did this happen? How was she there, begging for him to rape her? But he has got her in a corner: she could feel the warmth of his head resting against the hypersensitive lips of her pussy; begging to be freed.

 

Her body won’t let her give in into disappear. She hesitated. How much more could he torture her and degrade her? She has been thrown around; her clothes had been torn, bite marks lingered on her skin.

He pulled her hair again, awakening all of her muscles, making her taut to receive his violence. His stubble flared the nerve endings on her cheek, and his lips caressed the curve of my ear, “I said beg, Marlena.” His fist gripped at the roots of her hair painfully. A throbbing deep inside of her stubbornly insisted on fighting.

“Please...enough…”

“ I didn’t hear you.”

“Please...” She whimpered in a shaky voice.

“Louder.” His low, gritty was a thin veil for the note of pleasure in his voice.

“Please,” she said more firmly, but she really meant for him to stop.

“Louder,” he said cruelly.

“Please.. leave me-” she projected. He slipped his head inside of her as she gasped and then he stopped.

“Louder, Marlena.” He won’t be satisfied until she was completely stripped of dignity.

“Please!” It was just below a yell, but her voice was jagged with shame and fear. He pushed his entire length into her, wrathfully.

 

She cried out, throwing her head back and gripping the top of the couch. His cock curved into her deeply, painfully. “Don’t stop begging, and loud, so I can hear you cry.” He pulled out almost all the way and impaled her again.

“Stop!” She cried, arching her head. The more she begged, the louder she begged, the more he fucked her. The silent room was filled with the sounds of his hips slapping the soft flesh of her ass, and her loud, crying plead: “Please! Please! Please! Stop!” Her voice vibrated from his violent thrusting against her body.

 

“That’s right; you knew what was coming. You. Knew,” he grumbled. It was humiliating; it was dirty. He violently thrusting into her as she beg him to stop.

 

Eventually, he stayed inside of her instead of pulling in and out. He maintained a steady contact with her walls as his cock rubber deep inside of her. The tension built and built. Everything tightens: every pore on her body shrunk, her nipples minimize to their smallest, most sensitive point, his stubble burned against her neck, the muscles inside of her thighs clenched, his warm breath blew against her cheek.

“Please!... Stop!” She begged at her loudest, the scratchy husk of certainty cloaking her voice. He couldn’t stop now; he had to take her all the way. His hand reached around, and he rubbed her mound. She tightened and tightened. He covered her mouth with his gloved hand because it was so loud, it might grab unwanted attention. His cock swelled in her, his grip around her tightens. He kept his pace, covering her mouth with one hand and clenching a breast with the other, rolling a nipple between his fingers.

 

That time his groans almost became growls, he bit her neck, stopping right at the pressure before she would scream in pain. He squeezed her breast so hard she yelped and then his cock pulsated inside of her as he grunted into her neck, his warm groans shook her. His warmth shoots inside of her.

 

Present days (1998)

 

Marlena’s feet skidded across the stairs, holding both Brady and Belle in her arms, and she heard him pounding the concrete behind her. She cracked her head, horrified to discover him gaining so fast, and doubled her efforts, picking up speed as she went down the stairs.

“Mommy, mommy, why are we running?” the child cried into her ear. Panting she mumbled, “Don’t worry sweetheart, mommy’s got you.”

An exposed metal tore into her bare feet. But she was an easy target, in plain sight, no matter how much distance she managed to put between them. Getting lost in the building was her only shot at escaping.

Her gaze strayed to the blackness of the halls, and she gulped. Get lost, or turn around and face him? Face terrible horrors, putting her children at harm’s way. That would surely break her.

His heavy footsteps echoed the walls; he was probably three floors above them.

Another glance over her shoulder told her she had but seconds to decide. Pure adrenaline spurred her to jump into the dark space. She sprinted over stairs, swerved around concrete pillars, and almost stumbled to the ground. Recognizing the 9th floor and Mrs. Hobbes’s apartment. Mrs. Hobbes was an old lady she was fond of. The kids would be safe there just until Chelsea would pick them up. They already suffered enough. Placing the confused toddlers on the dark floor of the hall, she crouched in front of them, holding their small hands, trying to fight the tears threatening to leave her eyes.

“Sweethearts, I need you to listen carefully now. We are going to play a game.”

“Yay! A game!” the little boy yelped while her eyes scanned her surroundings.

“Shhh...honey, yes, a game, a fun game.” she whispered, “Momma needs to hide from that man, just for a little while, but don’t you worry; he won't ever find us again. I need you to keep on hiding at Mrs. Hob’s apartment until Chelsea come and pick you up. Could you do that for me?” caressing their warm cheeks, she could see the uncertainty in their troubled gaze, and it broke her heart.

 

His loud footsteps have gotten closer.

 

Her knuckles quickly pounded on the wooden door, and a word vomit burst out of her as soon as the door was opened. She could tell the woman has just woken up, but her kind eyes reassured her. Saying goodbye was heartbreaking, but she needed the kids to know they were safe, that this was only a game.

 

A scary twisted game.

 

As the door closed again, she didn’t remember going back out to the dark staircase. The floor became especially treacherous, as it was cold still. She lost her balance and hurtled down the stairs, a victim of gravity, rolling over concrete, and grunting with each strike.

 

His voice seared the air, her name a furious epithet bleeding from his lips. He sounded too close, but in the darkness, disoriented as her head throbbed from what he gave her before, she couldn’t tell if he was three inches or three yards away. Clenching her teeth against the pain in her head, she pushed herself to continue, her car keys still tightly wedged between her knuckles.

 

Marlena could hear his ominous footsteps in the shadows, it sounded close and clear now, and she kept on moving, never stopping, not for a second. Without the luminescence of the corridor, visibility was an issue out there, which turned out to be a blessing and a curse. If she couldn’t see him, then he couldn’t see her. That also meant she couldn’t see her way out of that building.

Who was she kidding? She wasn’t getting out of this. Even if he wasn’t waiting, hunting her like prey, she didn’t have the skills to make it out. Not without proper clothing, food, and water, her cell phone, something. Her long legs dangled along the long staircase, while her hands quickly moved to put on John’s jacket. It was getting cold, and she was somewhat happy the kids wore proper clothing last night.

Shoving her hand into one of the pockets, she felt what seemed like paper. Square glossy paper, a picture?

 

Bringing the small item out, she noticed it was not only one, but more than ten polaroids.

 

Of her.

 

She saw herself laying on her stomach, the first night he attacked her. Her hands were bound above her head, she was asleep, well, not really sleeping, she was drugged, to keep her still. Her body was exposed, she remembered how it felt when she woke up, to find him touching her.

In the dimly light of the hall, she was able to determine a photo her bound wrists, of her bare back, her ass, her nape, head, breasts. She was out on display within these small squares.

“Oh my God..” She closed her eyes and brought a fist to her mouth to keep from totally losing it.

Her other hand sent to her mouth to stifle her gasp. Noticing a black mark on the inner part of her wrists. The mark was a tiny number underneath her palm, almost invisible.

 

Her eyes widened in shock, “No..” she was marked with the number “3”, frantically her eyes scanned the photos, each part of her was marked with a different number. She wanted to lay down and give up, let the darkness claim her.

 

Oh, God. She was going to get sick.

 

Her pulse quickened, and her chest squeezed as every last thought of what the hell happened to her edged into her soul.  Each body part was marked with a different number, why? She heard Fernando’s footsteps getting closer in the darkness.