Archive for the rape Category

Freya’s Prayer – Section One of Part Four – God Save Our Souls

Posted in Anthology, Because I love to write, New Novel, New writing, Nightmare, rape, Works in Progress with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 29, 2011 by cjirwin

Chapter Four – Section One –

God Save Our Souls

The muddy hem of Freya’s brown work dress jerked and swayed as she yanked at a piece of bleached timber near the edge of the river. The tangled mass of wood had been gathered by the raging waters of the spring and cast aside as it settled into its calmer summer flow. Freya cursed when the firewood finally loosed and sent her sprawling backward onto the ground. Huffing and thanking God she had walked up river saving her from the embarrassment of anyone seeing her clumsiness, Freya stood and brushed the dirt from her backside.

Mortification filled her and she spun around at a familiar voice. “If you’re not careful my dear that firewood will kick your ass,” Robert said through a bright smile, the words skipping from his lips.

Unable to reply Freya only grew redder.

“You’re exquisite all the time, but I do enjoy a good blush on your skin.” Robert sang as he drew closer.

“Are you saying you enjoy embarrassing me Robert?” Freya asked raising an eyebrow and smiling.

“And if I do? What would the fair beauty before me be able to do about it?” Robert’s eyes bubbled with delight as he circled Freya and wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind.

Freya sighed, leaning into his embrace and reaching up to put her hands in his.  “I would hate to have to withhold my lips from such a striking man’s reach, but punishment must be doled out for such grievous actions.” Despite her efforts, Freya could not contain the amusement that frosted her threat.

“Such extreme chastisement!” Robert laughed and spun Freya in his arms to face him. “Well my lady, I must surely be more cautious. For without your lips my lips would cease to speak, eat, or yearn! I most certainly would become nothing more than a husk of a man.”

“You mock me,” Freya retorted and tried to put on a frown.

“No my love,” Robert said more seriously. “I think of you night and day. Please ease my troubled heart and say yours yearns as mine.”

As hummingbird’s wings, Freya’s heard flew within her chest. Blood pounding loudly in her ears, she tried to respond. “I want nothing more than to find myself within your arms. I dream of your lips and think on the joy in your eyes. My heart yearns as yours.”

As the last word hummed from her mouth Robert’s lips sailed toward hers, and his arms acted in tandem securing her to his chest. Freya opened to his kiss, her lips embracing his taste and warmth. His arms seemed to make her worries fade to some distant place, her feelings and desires rising to fill the void left. Everything in her ached for his touch as his kiss reached to the very depths of her soul.  Freya rejoiced in the unfamiliar feelings that coursed through her body as Robert’s fingers skimmed down the soft skin of her throat and along the contours of her shoulders. That surge of sensation that sped through her peaked, exploding on a new plateau she had not known stood within her.

The gasp that escaped Freya’s lips set Roberts form to shuddering, his body reacting to her beauty, and his mind thrilling in the love that pounded inside him. The newness of her beauty, as a flower budding for the first time made his mind reel with want that he struggled to reign in. His charm and good looks had earned him a great many encounters, but none that had ever stirred his soul as Freya.

“Freya,” Robert whispered through the kiss as she tangled her hands in his hair. “Freya,” he sang as he lifted her into his arms and walked away from the water.

Their lips did not cease as he glided toward and ancient oak with a lovely blanket of green beneath it. The breeze, gentle and warm, dragged strands of his golden hair from its moorings and tangled them in Freya’s hands. Robert’s body above her, his lips on her lips, his hands slowly traveling down her dress to traverse her waist, her hip, emboldened her. Letting her inhibitions dwindle, she drew her hands from his head to the hard muscles of his chest. The movement of her hands was as heavily fire breathing along his skin.

He jerked away throwing himself by her side. “Ah,” he groaned and covered his face.

Freya swallowed hard as the red returned to her face. “I’m sorry,” Freya breathed. “What is wrong?” Tears threatened. “Do you not want me?”

“Oh god Freya!” Robert heaved as he rolled toward her. “Of course I want you!” He pulled her to her side. “That’s just it, I want you too much. I fight to control the immense desire in me now that would take you this instant beneath this tree.”

Freya smiled, one embarrassment merging into another. “I would love nothing more than to give myself to you.”

Robert traced his finger along her throat, tugging slightly at the string pulling tight the top of her shirt. “You deserve better than me.” His smile was irresistible. “You deserve a home, and your father deserves a bride price.”

“I want you.” Freya countered. “You deserve far more than you think.”

“I would earn your love, your trust and your fathers, and earn your touch.” Robert said as he playfully tugged loose the string loosening her shirt. It fell away from her neck and shoulders revealing the top of her cleavage pulled tightly together by her corset. “God help me,” Robert breathed.  

“You have already done everything you need to do to earn my love.” Freya replied distracted by the look in his eyes as he examined her.

“How could I ever merit such beauty of mind and body?” As he spoke Freya reached to loosen her corset. Robert sucked in a breath. “No Freya,” he pleaded with a tortured smile on his lips. “I cannot lose myself.”

“I would have you lose yourself and me with you.” Freya said as she pulled the corset away, her shirt hanging free, revealing.

“You would drive me mad woman!” Robert laughed as he reached for her. Freya playfully evaded his hand and smiled broadly as she lifted her shirt over her head. “God help me,” Robert whispered again as he saw her.

“Hey, you there!” A deep voice barked.

Robert jerked toward the sound as Freya scrambled for her shirt.

“What do we have here?” Mikhail asked from atop his horse. “My goodness,” he breathed as he watched Freya struggled to pull her shirt over her head.

“King Mikhail!” Robert burst and fell to one knee. “My lord, how may I serve you?” Robert asked his voice quivering like leaves in a spring storm.

“Who is he?” Mikhail asked the man to his left.

“I believe that is Robert Bauer, son of Robert Bauer the elder. He plants and harvests the Northern fields.”

“Robert Bauer son of Robert the elder, farmer of the Northern Fields?” Mikhail asked tearing his eyes from Freya who was still trying to replace her corset and fixing his eyes on Robert.

“Yes Your Majesty.”

“Who is the exquisite lady behind you, and does she belong to you?”

“Um,” Robert swallowed the bile rising in his throat. “This is Freya Keller. First daughter of Eric of the house of Keller, and no, she is still under the covering of her father.”

“Keller,” Mikhail said turning to the man beside him again.

“Yes my Lord. He owns the local pub and inn.”

“So, Robert of the house of Bauer, I have caught you endeavoring to take the virginity of a woman not your own and above your station, or has she already lost that gift to you.” Mikhail accused.

“No My King, I have not, and I would not rob her of such a gift.”

“Wouldn’t you? It looks very much like you would have had we not interrupted. Tell me, Robert Bauer, does Eric know his daughter is with a farmer’s son?”

“Um, he does not know I am with her now, but my father has begun negotiating a bride price with hers and, I love her and intend to marry her when I am able to earn the sum.”

“You do? They have?” Freya said, her face lighting, but then remembering their company she dropped her eyes back to the ground.

“Hum, are you very sure Eric of the house of Keller will want to entrust his lovely daughter to a boy who sneaks her off into the woods?” Mikhail demanded.

Robert paled. “Forgive me my Lord. I did not intend to soil her virtue; I became carried away by her beauty. I will exercise more control.”

“Well, I can certainly see why you were carried away.” Robert’s stomach twisted as he watched his King examine the woman he loved. “She is most lovely. Freya is it?”

“Yes My Lord.” Freya answered looking up.

“Come here,” Mikhail ordered.  Robert fought the urge to stop her as she moved toward the Kings horse. Taking Freya’s face roughly into his hand, Mikhail examined her sapphire eyes with thick dark lashes, her fine nose set on perfect pastel skin, her rosy full lips accented by a sharp jaw. “You are lovely.” Mikhail said his body still stirred at her frantically searching for her shirt.

“You are too kind my King,” Freya said as she took a step back toward Robert.

“Have you been hunting Your Majesty?” Robert asked wanting to change the subject.

“That I have.”

“Please, do not let us keep you. We beg forgiveness for our interruption.” Robert pleaded.

“I will escort Mistress Keller home.” Mikhail said, a wicked smile spreading as he saw Robert’s body jerk.

“You need not worry My Lord.” Robert hurried. “No need for you to burden yourself, I can see her safely home, so you may enjoy the rest of your hunt.”

“Tis no burden my young friend. I actually quit look forward to honoring her father’s house with a visit.”

Freya swallowed hard and looked back to Roberts’s anxious face.

“Come my dear,” Mikhail called. “The hour grows late.”

“Shall I give her my horse?” The man to Mikhail’s right asked.

“No, she will ride with me. Help her up in front of me.”

Robert’s teeth ground together, and the breath in Freya’s chest began to heave. She looked to Robert, and though it was the last thing he wanted to see he tipped his head toward the king. “What an honor Freya,” Robert said through thin lips. “The King wishes to see you safely home. I will be right behind you my love.”

Freya simply nodded and was helped into Mikhail’s lap. She bulked inside at how tightly the King held her, and the heat of his breath on her ear as they rode back toward the village. Heart pressed by fear, Freya stood at Mikhail’s side as his steward announced his presence at her father’s house.

“My Great King!” Eric called out, falling to one knee as the Lord Bauska Mikhail entered. “To what does my humble house owe the honor of your presence?”

“To your daughter my good servant,” Mikhail said indicating Freya coming in the door.

“My daughter?”

“Aye, tell me good sir, are you in the habit of allowing the maidens of your house to run around in the forest with boys that would spoil their honor?”

Freya blanched.

“No my Lord!” Eric replied shooting Freya a look of fire. “I knew of no such thing.”

“I found her, for the better part unclothed,” Mikhail said and smiled as Eric’s jaw tightened. “Under the seeking hands of a young farmer’s boy; do you know of him?”

Eric swallowed hard, his teeth grinding audibly. “That would be Robert Bauer, I thought him to me an honorable young man.”

“No father,” Freya blurted. “He is, it was me!”

“Freya! Still your tongue in the presence of our Lordship,” Eric scolded then turned to Mikhail. “I beg your forgiveness my King.”

“No forgiveness is required my good servant, the lovely young lady is simply trying to defend the boy. It is he that is at fault, he that has lured her to folly.” Mikhail reasoned, his eyes resting heavily upon Freya.

Freya shook her head.

“I am indebted to you my King for returning her to my house.”

“It was an honor good sir. My steward tells me you own and run the Keller Inn.”

“That I do My Lord.”

“It does well for you?” Mikhail asked having trouble keeping his eyes from Freya.

“It does well, provides for me and mine.” Eric said with a proud smile.

“My steward also tells me you are always faithful with your dues to the crown. I am grateful for such men in my city.”

“It is my honor and duty, my Lord. I am but your servant.”

“A most pleasing one,” Mikhail sang. “You must let me honor you and your family! Come to my table to feast, all of your family. It would bring me much joy to see your family again.”

Eric swallowed against the knots forming in his stomach and forced a smile to his lips. “I would be greatly pleased to accept such an invitation. I do not feel equal to it!”

“I will be the judge of such things my friend,” Mikhail teased, but Eric sensed much more than was said. “Two nights hence, we will feast in your honor.”

Anxiety had nearly stretched Freya’s muscles and mind to the brink by the time she watched Mikhail walk from her home. And thought battered she felt in body that pain did not compare to the throbbing of her heart. From her father’s side, Freya looked on as Mikhail, a king she had hardly known that morning, rode away as a man she loathed with all of her will.

Heart Eaters – Part Six – Heath

Posted in Because I love to write, New writing, Nightmare, rape with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 15, 2010 by cjirwin

(This post contains graphic violence that some may consider offensive.)

Heart Eaters

Chapter Four

Part Six



Lucy was dreaming, and she knew it. Like a prison, the dream held her. Nearly eleven months ago she had realized her dreams would not be an escape for her as she had hoped, rather they served only to intensify her misery. Robert, her lover, her husband, the father of her babies, that’s who she normally dreamed of. Countless times her subconscious, or maybe demons Lucy thought, had vividly portrayed Robert’s gruesome death, but as she stood praying and staring at a white wall with blue floral pictures she knew this dream was different. With mixed emotions, she realized it wasn’t Robert in the bed behind her. Relief that she wouldn’t have to see him die in yet another way filled her as fear of the unknown tightened in her belly.

Her lungs ached from the smoke, and the heat at her back was almost unbearable. Don’t turn around. Wake UP! Lucy cautioned herself, but morbid curiosity, like a fish-hook in her cheek spun her around. The scene that assaulted her eyes had her head spinning like the eye of a hurricane and her stomach heaving like the waves tossed by that storm.

Flesh, skin, muscle, bone burned. A sick, sweet iron smelling smoke billowed from the two blazing corpses. One of the four wooden bedposts fell onto the bed breaking open the blistered bodies. Blood sizzled and popped as it oozed into the mayhem.

Lucy retched, her body doubling over. Vomit covered her black shoes and her tan and blue uniform.

“Oh God, oh God!” Lucy screamed. “I’m Helen!” She looked back at the bed. “Those were her parents!”

“Mommy, mommy,” Sandra called as she shook her mother. “Wake up.”

Lucy’s eyes flashed open and she bolted straight up in her bed. “What?” she asked holding her hand to her stomach.

“You were crying and screaming. You woke me up. Are you ok?”

Lucy turned to her young, fair-skinned daughter. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. It was just a bad dream.” She pulled Sandra into her lap relishing her warmth. Lucy felt so cold.

“You always have bad dreams.” Sandra said still wide-eyed with worry.

“I know baby.”

“Do you want me to sing to you like daddy used to do for me when I had a scary dream?” Sandra asked as she pushed her mother’s hair off of her eyes.

Lucy only nodded afraid she would cry.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You’ll never know mommy how much I love you. So please don’t take my sunshine away.” Sandra, with her sweet, high voice sang it again and again as Lucy cried in her daughter’s arms.

Lucy’s eyes were still a little red and puffy when she walked into the nurse’s office at the hospital. Her heart sank when she realized Doug wasn’t there and her frustration at knowing she wanted to see him made it that much harder to control the tears.

“Thank God Helen isn’t on my schedule today.” She said as she went over her duties, then retrieved her supplies. “Time to work and not think.”

Lucy cursed herself as her heart fluttered at the sound of her name on Doug’s lips. Pushing her cart of supplies to the left of room one o’ one, Lucy turned to face Doug. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth so she pressed her lips together in an effort to hide it.

“Good morning,” as always his face shone brilliantly causing the icicles on her heart to drip.

“Hey Doug,” the smile escaped.

“Are you ok?” He asked as he examined her eyes.

“Yes, just had a rough night.”

He wanted to send her home. Tell her to get rest. Mostly, he wanted to just hold her, but she was smiling at him, and it frazzled his thoughts.

He stared and Lucy demeaned herself for wishing his arms would encircle her. It’s just wrong! She thought.

“Did you need something?” She asked.

“Uh, yes, sorry. I needed to tell you something.” He paused. “Uh, oh yeah, patient one o’ one, um, Heath Deerborn,” he struggled to regain his composer. “He has been here three months, and I need to do a mental examination so his opium dosage has been reduced. He will be more alert, perhaps aggressive. The institution he came from had to heavily dose him because he was,” Doug paused wishing he could just tell her she couldn’t see Heath that day, but he knew she would bulk.

“He was what?”

“Sexually aggressive, he attacked one of their nurses. Anyway, I want one of the security officers in the cell with you.”

“Oh, ok.”

“If you don’t want-”

“No,” Lucy said quickly. “I can do it.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d say that. So Donald is coming now.” Just as he said it Donald came through the doors and headed down the hall. Watching Donald’s long, black night stick bang against his knee made Lucy rethink her decision to tend to Heath. Seeing the fear slightly change her features, Doug tried, once again to dissuade her, but to no avail. “I asked Donald to come even though he is ancient,” Doug said it loudly giving Donald a big teasing smile; “because I know you kinda like him.”

“Now, sixty ain’t ancient.” Donald replied with a smile. “And Lucy loves me even though I’m old.”

“That I do,” Lucy smiled broadly causing both Donald and Doug’s hearts to skip a beat.

After Heath was secured Lucy attempted to clean his cell. He watched her, his eyes slithering, gorging, making her feel soiled and used. Even with Donald standing two feet away tapping his weapon repeatedly against his palm Lucy felt vulnerable, and was dismayed to find it could become more uncomfortable. Heath spoke, like plague it filled every corner of the room.

“You are beautiful,” Heath breathed. “Has anyone ever told you how exquisitely lovely you are?”

Lucy tensed. The sound of Heaths voice was smooth, and sucked at her strength, it wriggled agilely like a parasitic creature to embed and feed.

“I could give you such pleasure.”

“Now there ain’t no reason to talk to Miss Lucy in that manner!” Donald ordered as he stepped toward Heath.

Heath continued to stare at Lucy. “Mmm,” he sucked air in, “you smell of Lavender and peaches, so much woman.”

Donald hit Heath in the arm with some force. “I said you ain’t to speak to Miss Lucy!”

“I love to see the flush beneath your cheeks as I think of running my hands along your soft skin,” Heath said not even sparing Donald and his night stick a glance. Even after Donald hit him again, knocking him to the floor his eyes drilled into Lucy.

“No,” Lucy called getting up and stopping Donald before he hit Heath again. “He is going to talk wither you hit him or not and Doug can’t examine him if you beat him to a pulp. I can handle it.”

“Are you sure Miss Lucy?” Donald asked, and Lucy smiled at the care and concern she saw in her old hazel friends eyes.

“I am.”

“You ignore me now, but once I show you you’ll be begging me for more.” Heath said sitting up. His russet hair fell across his face and his chocolate eyes burned with desire. Blood dripped from his full angled lips and his strait small nose staining his white strait jacket.

Lucy imagined he had been very attractive once, and from the sound of his voice she figured he had probably been very skilled at getting whatever woman he wanted.

“You could be like my first, Camilla. Yes, Camilla screamed for me to stop, but after I took her she only begged for more.” Lucy scowled at him. She doubted he was referring to the time he lost his virginity, and she doubted the woman he referred to ever agreed to do anything with him. “I’m wealthy,” he continued, “connected, a business owner, I could give you a job. Camilla worked for me, she was my secretary.”

Lucy turned back focusing on her task. Just ignore him!

“Let me tell you about that night,” he said with a wicked smile. “I know it will arouse and impress you.”

As he began to rehash the event he spoke of Lucy damned her vivid imagination.


For weeks Heath wooed her, flowers, chocolates, bonuses, but still she remained professional. As he sat at his desk he watched her through the glass separating his office from her secretarial station. Heath Deerborn was an attractive, wealthy and powerful man, and not getting the object of his desires was a new and infuriating experience.

God I want that women! He though as his eyes traveled the length of her sharp chin, full red lips, sexy dainty nose, and deep blue eyes that he wanted to drown in. And I shall have her.


 “Camilla,” he called.

“Yes Mr. Deerborn?” She answered stepping into his office on her long, shapely legs that he could not take his eyes off of.

“Could you close the blind and the door so I can dictate a letter?” He asked as he watched the way her high wasted suit rubbed against her full butt as she moved.

“Right away Mr. Deerborn.”

“Come here.” He called after she finished. Direct, he thought. I just need to be more direct. She stepped in front of his desk with a pad of paper and a pen. “Come around here,” he indicated to the side of his chair and turned that direction. Hesitantly, she moved to the corner of the desk. “Closer,” he said softly rising from his chair. She swallowed hard and took one small step.

“Mr. Deerborn,” Camilla said as he took her left hand into his.

“Heath, call me Heath.”

“Mr. Deerborn I’m married. I don’t think-”

“So am I,” Heath said cupping her cheek in his right hand. “What of it. I want you, and I always get what I want.”

He was smiling as he moved his lips to hers. Anger flashed in his eyes as she jerked away.

“I’m sorry sir! This is not appropriate!” Camilla blurted and stormed from his office.

Eyes on fire, he slammed his fist against his desk. Never in his life had he felt such rage. Never in his life had he been denied something he truly wanted. Well, he though, we will see about that!


As he drove along the well-lit streets of Kansas City he deliberated. I should just call Jane or Mary or Amelia, he thought. They all realize what an honor it is to be with a man like me! Hmm, I could call one of those whores from the gentleman’s club, for the right price they let me hit them and dominate then. He grew hard just thinking of it. How dare her! How dare she brush me off! The more he thought of it the angrier he became. I should have fired her right then and there! After everything I have done for her, given her! She probably went immediately to gossip to all her white trash friends, to laugh! The fury mounted displacing reason. Didn’t she say that her husband was off in Nevada working on one of Hoovers ridiculous projects? I could drop by to apologize. He thought with a wicked smile. As the car turned left, the peaceful air of late fall was left smudged and dirty, a dark trail lingering.

Straightening his jet black tie, Heath reached for the knocker on the door of the small, white house. White trash, he thought again as he compared her small neat house with his mansion outside of town.

“Mr. Dearborn!” Camilla gasped as she opened the door.

“Camilla,” he said quickly. “I don’t want to bother you. I just wanted to, needed to come by and apologize for my behavior earlier. It was deplorable! Can you ever forgive me? I swear if you would continue to work for me it wouldn’t happen again.”

“I’m not fired?”

“No, god no!” He said almost even convincing himself. “That was my fault this morning. You’re just so lovely that I lost my head.” He said as he realized that he was standing directly under the porch light. “May I come in?” Anger blazed inside him when she hesitated. “There’s quit a chill in the night.” He said with a smile as he wrapped his arms around himself.”

“Sure, um, yeah.” Camilla swallowed against the bile that rose in her throat as she pulled open the door.

“Mmm, it smells wonderful.” Heath said and beamed a charming smile. Despite the warning that rang in the back of her mind she responded to his magnetism. “What is that? Pot Roast? I’d love to join you.”

“Oh, well, it’s not much, just leftovers, nothing special.”

“I don’t mind.”

Camilla swallowed hard. “Mr. Deerborn,” she said firmly. “I will see you at work tomorrow now that we have this misunderstanding under control.”

“Yes, of course.” He said through tight lips.

Camille moved around him toward the door, her long blond hair hanging in loose waves past her shoulders. He reached and wrapped his hands around her hair. With one violent tug, he pulled her off her feet and quickly dragged her down the hall and into the kitchen. She struggled to stand, to run. He threw hard against the floor, and she choked for breath. A second later he was on top of her. Once, twice, again he hit her across the face, setting her ears to ringing, her head to spinning. Camilla could feel the soft skin on her face bruising under his heavy hand that muffled her screams. Heath’s eyes burned, firing scorching arrows into her soul.

Ripping and tearing warned her of what was to come. Her tight suit couldn’t just be hoisted and she thanked fate for any extra time it bought her. Blood dripped from her nails as she swung wildly at him. Grunts and groan escaped his lips as her knee cam up between his legs, but she was dismayed to see the pain was only more arousing.


Camilla fought. She wondered for a moment why he didn’t simply knock her out to make things easier, but then she realized it was what he wanted. Tears poured from her eyes. Somehow she knew if she could stop struggling it would piss him off, take some of the pleasure. Camilla couldn’t stop. Good, bad, it didn’t matter, she had to fight.

Crying out she felt blood start to flow from her breast. Heath drank at it. Clawed at it. Laughing, nearly singing, he tore away her blouse.

“Never before,” he said staring into her eyes. “Never have I felt such pleasure.” He laughed it out triumphantly.

When he reached between her legs she kicked hard, her knee catching his chin staggering him back. Anger danced with arousal as he back-handed her across the face. Her eyes went black ,and for a moment she wanted to sink into oblivion. NO! She thought. Not without a fight!


Lucy couldn’t take it any more. “Stop!” She screamed at Heath. Her teeth ground together when she realized she had just given him the reaction he had wanted. A fury she didn’t quit understand stood up inside her. The smug look on Heaths face faltered slightly as she marched toward him. Donald smiled as Lucy jerked the club from his belt and let loose a vicious swing. His jaw made a lovely cracking sound and he fell unconscious to the floor.

The Nightmare of a Memory–part one–

Posted in blood, demon, fear, memory, Nightmare, rape on May 27, 2010 by cjirwin

Fear wove intricate designs within the lovely sounds of Father Peter’s pleas to the Great One in that place between waking and sleeping. I wished to stay in the realm of the conscious, but had not the strength.

The vividness of my dreams always surprised, excited, but more often horrified me. While I still had control, I prayed with Father Peter, but then as I knew they would dreams became my reality.

The full moon shone brightly on the uneven ground as I walked along kicking small pebbles on the well used path. The warm night breeze caressed my heightened senses, and I realized that I was drunk. My hands tingled, my head felt light, and I smiled into the darkness at nothing. I was thinking of my Niklav, calloused hands blazing trails along my soft skin. The memory seemed so familiar. Of course it would, I thought. I think of my glorious lover all the time. It was more than that though.

Breathing deeply, I smiled at the smell of moist air and fish. There must be a lake nearby.

“No!” I breathed after I froze on the dirt path. “Please Great One not this place!”

I scanned the area instantly sober. A massive lodge cast menacing shadows too close to me. I heard people afar off, laughing, singing, and celebrating. Light green and brown, my dress hugged the ground, and my heart began to race as I looked it over. Aija, my sister, had made the dress for me. I had not seen it for years. Not since the night it was destroyed.

He lurked in the darkness, but I saw him. I turned. I ran. I could feel his breath on the nape of my neck, the tips of his toes on my heels. Franticly, I moved, stumbling in the darkness. My tears created puddles barring me.

The ground seemed unnaturally hard when I hit. I scratched and clawed trying to pull away from him, but I heard my dress tear as he yanked me toward him. I screamed for Niklav, but in my fear I had run far from his ears! I cried and screamed as Mikhail rolled me over. My nails dug into the skin on his face ripping it away and infuriating him. His fist hit hard and my eyes went black for a moment, ringing in my ears.

“No, please Mikhail!”

“I have waited so long for this,” Mikhail said the lust burning in his eyes.

“Mikhail, please,” I cried. Swinging my arms and kneeing him in the genitals earning another hard punch in the face. I tasted blood. Through blurry eyes, I watched as Mikhail’s eyes turned that glossy black I had grown to fear.

The blackness in his eyes made me angry not afraid, but the more I kicked and screamed the more excited Mikhail became. His eyes returned to their scummy green, and I actually wished for the blackness. The green of Mikhail’s eyes made me vomit. I hoped the chunks of food I had spewed on him would be a discouragement, but they were not.