Untitled ... Part One ...

Drips of sweat were pouring from her brow as the city lights bombarded her thoughts.

Her shoes pounded the pavement as she ran faster through the chaotic streets, and she couldn’t help but look over her shoulder to see if he was following her.

Her thoughts turned to the previous moments that she couldn’t quite process just yet. People weren’t supposed to be so cruel…this wasn’t supposed to happen…

“Excuse me miss, are you Chelsea?”

“Yes sir; can I help you,” she asked the strikingly handsome man in front of her.

“I think I am your guide through the museum today?”

With a hint of anxiety in her voice she said, “Great; well, my name is Chelsea, as you already know. I am a history major at Columbia University.”

With a smile and a wink, he responded, “Nice to meet you Chelsea. I’m David; I just graduated from the university last year.”

“Well, I appreciate your time today,” she said with a smile and wink in return.

Their destination was the Fossil Halls, but as they traveled through the halls of the American Museum of Natural History, their conversation led them elsewhere.

She found him so mesmerizing that she didn’t see what was about to happen next.

They found themselves in the bowels of the building. It was dark and dismal; there was a stale smell in the air and she couldn’t help think that something was amiss.

That’s when she felt the blow. It was a powerful smack to the back of her head and she couldn’t help from falling to the ground in pain. The blow knocked her unconscious, but it wasn’t long until she awoke.

When her eyes opened, she found him on top of her. She was pinned by her wrists to something cold; something damp. She could feel the pressure of his body against hers and she only wanted to scream. But she couldn’t. His eyes told her to keep quiet or she would regret it.

The next few moments were a blur, but she knew what was happening. He began with her blouse, then her skirt. He then forced himself inside her; his cold, calloused hands touched her cheek and then moved down her body ruthlessly, making her cry out in pain. But her cry was silent; it only reached the surface of the tape that sealed her mouth shut.

Tears were streaming from her face; he only smiled and looked intensely into her blue eyes, now red from the weeping.

He ripped the tape from her mouth, ripping flesh from her lips with it.

…to be continued…

CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS MOST APPRECIATED AND WELCOMED!

Untitled ... Part One ...

Emily Allison

South Bend, United States

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Artist's Description

I recently started this short story, prompted by a nightmare I had fairly recently. I’m attempting to remember my dream, and this is what I’ve written so far…

Artwork Comments

  • Larry Varley
  • Damian
  • Emily Allison
  • Erin E.
  • Emily Allison
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