Title: Gossip
Author
Rating: NC-17/M
Warnings: Rape, the aftermath. Graphic at times, you have been warned!
Summary: No one expected that a kid like Jacob Ben-Israel would ever take his infatuation for Rachel Berry that far. No one expected his crush would manifest a monster.
Chapter One:
She didn't know how she got there, struggling underneath Jacob Ben-Israel, pleading with him to move his arm from her collarbone before he broke it. He'd gotten her panties mid-thigh before he pushed her skirt up, trying his best to avoid her flailing legs as she kicked at him. His arm moved to her neck, slightly depriving her of air. She stopped struggling, realizing that the more she moved, the sooner she'd be unconscious. She could feel his skin pressing against hers, the buckle from his belt dragging angry scars against her inner thigh. He was kissing her mouth, the taste of his rancid breath etching nightmarish memories into her taste buds. He was trying unsuccessfully to open her legs, slapping her swiftly across the cheek. At the realization of her vulnerability he sprinted, spreading her wide beneath the girth of his body—her underwear finally snapping from the friction and he settled between her legs. She didn't know what to do. Her back had been burning since he pushed her into one of the stacks, blood pooling at the back of her destroyed shirt from the shifty nail that darted from the structure. Her arms were already tired, bruised from their earlier confrontation near the door, when she tried to get out of the audiovisual room, hoping that he'd left the key in the keyhole. Her voice was raw from screaming, half crying when she knew that no one would be coming for her, that the audiovisual room was in the basement. Anyone left in the school would be nowhere near them, and she didn't have the voice left in her to scream.
He was fumbling with the remaining fabric of her underwear, sweating profusely into her face. He eased the hand from her collarbone and hovered above her, angry with anticipation. She reached up, dragging her fingernails across the chub of his cheeks. He slammed her down again, resting all of his weight on top of her. She felt the bulbous head of his penis pressing against her, his hands holding her hips still as he thrust forward. Missing his intended target he reached between them, lining himself with her opening before ripping into her with a deafening intensity. She yelled out, the silent scream raking her body like a sob, air replacing sound as quiet tears fell down the sides of her face. He ravished her, pumping furiously hard into her non-responsive body. He was lifting her legs up next, sliding out of her bloodied heat and shoving his erect, wide girthed penis back inside her. His glasses had tumbled to the floor, and he put his hand on her intimate nub and rubbed, spreading the blood at their union onto his rough fingertips before returning to her now burning clitoris.
She was whimpering. The pain she was currently enduring breaking her to pieces as he continued his assault. She was hoping it would be short, that he would get it over with and roll from atop her, but he was lasting far longer than she could have anticipated in the split second it took for her to figure out what was about to happen. He was pounding into her so ferociously now, the impact of his thrusts moved her from her stationary position. He held her shoulders, his fingertips digging into her skin and piercing her flesh. He shuddered, pulling out of her and ejaculating on her bare stomach, her ripped shirt open and her bra peaked over her bruising breasts. He stood. The devil himself stood in front of her soiled body, put on his glasses and strode from the room. She heard the key turn in the lock, and she heard him leave the door open, his footfalls retreating down the barren hallways and somewhere later; up a flight of stairs.
She lay there, curling into herself as she tried to stay awake. The puncture wound at the base of her back had been superficial, but the amount of time she'd been bleeding was starting to catch up with her. She tried to deny that she was there at that moment; that Jacob Ben-Israeal hadn't just raped her on the floor of the AV room. She didn't cry, rocking in place, wincing at the effort it took for her to do just that. She heard footsteps then, two pairs of them walking in her direction, wafting down the hallway like dangerous aromas. Something told her it wasn't Jacob coming back though, so she stayed where she was, unmoving as the feminine voices drifted into the open doorway.
"Well someone got blood on Jewfro, let's just make sure there aren't any sacrificed animals down here."
They walked in, looking immediately at the broken diva curled up on the floor.
"Brit, go tell Principle Figgins to call the police."
000 0000 000
She was walking to the audiovisual room to pick up the performance dvd from invitationals. She hated going down into the dungeons of the school, but since the following year they'd moved the room, Jacob Ben-Israel sighting that he'd need a darker place to develop film. School had let out a half hour before, most of the clubs not converging due to Thanksgiving break. She needed something to do for the short recess since she and Finn had been on the outs since the whole Santana Scandal broke. She darted into the room, noting that no one had arrived yet, and stood against the stacks of compact disc containers.
"Hello Rachel. Come to retrieve your invitational footage I see."
She felt uneasy.
"Yes, actually, I'd like to be on my way."
"You didn't think it would be that easy did you? How about a kiss?"
Since a tragic game of spin the bottle weeks before, the stalking gossip monger had been following her around more than usual. She'd backed out of kissing him, until Santana had pointed out that she had to kiss Tina on her turn. She kissed him, a small peck on the lips and excused herself to go wash her mouth with soap.
She walked toward the door, noting that he took a step backwards with each of her oncoming steps forward. He got there first, pulling out a key and locking them inside with an audible click. She didn't want to panic, but she also didn't want to kiss him either, so she walked back toward the stacks, her back hitting against it, Jacob quick on her coat tails, pushing her back against the metal shelves; a nail digging unexpectedly into her skin. She winced, walking forward as her shirt ripped around her middle and hanging onto the rugged nail, her cotton pink bra available for easy viewing. She turned back to Jacob, who was walking toward her with hungry eyes, his twitching fingers reaching out to grab at her open shirt. She dodged him, ducking under his arm to grab the door knob, banging against it when he pulled her backwards, popping her wrist in the process.
"It's just a kiss, Rachel, pucker up."
He was hitting her after that, small punches in sensitive places, and she fell.
"I'm tired of you always teasing me. You know you want it, Rachel!"
She reeled away from him, crawling on all fours toward the door, the sound of his zippers snapping her out of her thoughts. She knew what was about to happen next.
End of Chapter 1.
A/N: No flames please this will hopefully evolve into a Hurt/Comfort fic featuring Santana and Rachel. Look for an update every Tuesday night (unless I feel lucky). Please Read and Review.