"Stop! I didn't do it! 'Twasn't me!" A young woman's voice filled the empty
streets of Paris. Caresse backed up as she was advanced upon, cowering and
cornered in the back of an alley. "iJe mendie de vous!/i (I beg of
you!) iJe regrette, je regrette!/i (I'm sorry, I'm sorry!)" She slipped
on an empty liquor bottle, falling heavily on her rump. Terrified, the teen
scrambled backwards, until her back hit the wall. Terrified, she stared up
at her pursuers. Her knees came up and she tucked then to her chest.
Caresse lifted her arms to protect her face, shivering. She squeezed her
eyes shut tightly, pushing herself against the wall and wishing she could
pass right through it. When rough hands grabbed her arms and pulled her up,
she screamed, fighting to get away. "iSecours moi!/i (Help me!)
iSecours!/i (Help!)" Someone's hand came up and smacked hard across the
face, silencing her. Even her sobs stopped for a moment out of surprise
before resuming. Caresse shuddered, leaning away from the men in front of
her. Fearfully she looked up at her captor, pulling herself as far away as
she could. "It wasn't me," she said, shivering. "I didn't steal from you!"
The man reached forward and grabbed a fist full of her hair, yanking her head backwards painfully. Caresse bit her lip hard, tasting blood. "No one pilfers anything from me, ipetit/i (whelp)," he growled. Holding her wrists in one hand, he pulled her head farther, baring a very tender neck. "Give back the ruby, and maybe I'll let you off with just a beating." He grinned wryly, a cruel look on his face.
"I - I don't have it, Travers!" She cried. He backhanded her viciously. She could have sworn she felt hair rip from her head.
"Spent it already, did you? You're going to pay, ima fille/i (my girl)." His face grew ugly, and he threw Caresse away from himself, into the wall. Her head knocked against the bricks, and she blinked dazedly. There were stars before her eyes. All she could think to do was lift a hand to the bump on her head; but before she could even reach her, she found she couldn't breathe as a fist connected with her ribs. Her eyes grew wide and she doubled over, gasping. Unable to hold herself up, she stumbled and fell to the ground on her hands and knees before the group's leaders. "Savill, hold her arms." The man moved quickly from behind Travers, and pulled Caresse's arms tightly behind her back. The girl winced, and felt a booted foot collided with her stomach. She couldn't breath through the breadth of a few heartbeats, and her eyes watered almost immediately.
"iPlaire/i (please)," she breathed, unable to speak loud enough. She couldn't see, but the man in front of her must have done something, for Savill threw her away, where she landed on her side, groaning and clutching her stomach. She heard laughter behind her, and closed her eyes tightly, thinking they'd go away, be done with her. Caresse wasn't going to get off so easy.
The sound of a belt being unbuckled reached her ears, and she cringed as she heard it sing through the air. The leather connected with her shoulder, and she bit her lip at the sting. Not satisfied, Travers pulled the make shift whip back again, and struck her with all his force across her unprotected chest. Caresse screamed, and moved her arms to cover as much of herself as she could, but the pain was still there. "iHalte!/i Stop!"
"Not until I get my ruby," Travers growled. He threw away the belt - Caresse could hear it thump on the ground somewhere. She didn't dare look up to see what was happening, but she heard the three others, including Savill, laughing. She wanted to cry out, make him see that she didn't ihave/i it, but before she could move at all, she felt herself kicked again, and thrown onto her stomach. She groaned, her arms trapped beneath her, a heavy weight on top of her. Had Travers sat on her?
iOh,/i Dieu i(God), please,/i she thought desperately. iDon't let me die./i
She felt a very sudden, almost frigid draft as her clothes were torn off. Caresse's eyes grew wide, and she opened her mouth to issue a wordless scream, completely terrified. She bucked, wanting to throw the weight off of her, wanting to at least be free to attempt running. She couldn't move though, or maneuver her arms to be of any use. She heard their laughter again, and shrieked.
"iNon, non!/i" She screamed, kicking as best she could when rough hands were sliding across her naked back. "No!"
It felt like hours later when she was finally alone again. They'd taken her, each of them, she expected. Travers had twice. Maybe thrice? She hadn't kept count; it was too painful. Now she huddled in on herself, waiting for them to leave. She heard someone - probably Savill - laugh, and spit. The saliva landed near her face, and closed her eyes, disgusted; with him, with herself, with her body's betrayal.
When their footsteps died, she curled up and buried her face in her hands, sobbing. Each in drawn breath was like the twist of a knife in her ribs; she'd be surprised if the man hadn't broken anything. Blood covered the insides of her thighs. It had pleased Travers to no end to find out she was a virgin; he'd been all the crueler. How could a whore like herself never have been with a man, he wanted to know. Or perhaps it wasn't men she was interested in? Perhaps she preferred a woman's touch, as so many men did, he'd said.
She'd had to listen to the insults, the derogatory laughs through her own rape.
Rape; she'd been raped. And what was worse, she couldn't go to the police and report it. Who would believe iher?/i She was trash; she wasn't needed, her word meant nothing. Travers' position wasn't much higher than hers, but he knew how to seem innocent in front of the authorities. Otherwise, he'd have been hung long before this. Or beheaded.
Breathing was getting harder and harder; she was only taking in shallow amounts of air to avoid the pain in her ribs and stomach, but even that wasn't working anymore. It all hurt so much -
She heard soft laughter above her and scowled, trying to stop her sobs. It wasn't exactly cruel - but it certainly wasn't a nice laugh, either. And it was strangely.pretty. She didn't need anyone to know she was there; not yet. She bit her lip and halted her breath, listening hard. Softly, so quiet she could barely hear it, a voice rose out of the night's darkness
"Wandering child.
So lost.
So helpless.
Yearning for my
Guidance."
Caresse gasped, and forced herself into a sitting position, clutching at her front with a wince of pain. "Who's there?" She gasped out. It was a song - a ibeautiful/i song. She wanted to hear more; she wanted to her the rest!
All that reached her ears was more laughter. And then - silence. She sighed, and hung her head, hissing in pain. "Oh, God," she murmured. Unable to hold herself up, she laid back down on the cold stones. The was a blackness edging around her vision, and she closed her eyes, too tired to fight anymore. Let her die here, in the alleys; the same as she'd been born. "Let it all end."
The last thing she heard, before passing off into the beautiful oblivion, was the same soft laughter of before.
The man reached forward and grabbed a fist full of her hair, yanking her head backwards painfully. Caresse bit her lip hard, tasting blood. "No one pilfers anything from me, ipetit/i (whelp)," he growled. Holding her wrists in one hand, he pulled her head farther, baring a very tender neck. "Give back the ruby, and maybe I'll let you off with just a beating." He grinned wryly, a cruel look on his face.
"I - I don't have it, Travers!" She cried. He backhanded her viciously. She could have sworn she felt hair rip from her head.
"Spent it already, did you? You're going to pay, ima fille/i (my girl)." His face grew ugly, and he threw Caresse away from himself, into the wall. Her head knocked against the bricks, and she blinked dazedly. There were stars before her eyes. All she could think to do was lift a hand to the bump on her head; but before she could even reach her, she found she couldn't breathe as a fist connected with her ribs. Her eyes grew wide and she doubled over, gasping. Unable to hold herself up, she stumbled and fell to the ground on her hands and knees before the group's leaders. "Savill, hold her arms." The man moved quickly from behind Travers, and pulled Caresse's arms tightly behind her back. The girl winced, and felt a booted foot collided with her stomach. She couldn't breath through the breadth of a few heartbeats, and her eyes watered almost immediately.
"iPlaire/i (please)," she breathed, unable to speak loud enough. She couldn't see, but the man in front of her must have done something, for Savill threw her away, where she landed on her side, groaning and clutching her stomach. She heard laughter behind her, and closed her eyes tightly, thinking they'd go away, be done with her. Caresse wasn't going to get off so easy.
The sound of a belt being unbuckled reached her ears, and she cringed as she heard it sing through the air. The leather connected with her shoulder, and she bit her lip at the sting. Not satisfied, Travers pulled the make shift whip back again, and struck her with all his force across her unprotected chest. Caresse screamed, and moved her arms to cover as much of herself as she could, but the pain was still there. "iHalte!/i Stop!"
"Not until I get my ruby," Travers growled. He threw away the belt - Caresse could hear it thump on the ground somewhere. She didn't dare look up to see what was happening, but she heard the three others, including Savill, laughing. She wanted to cry out, make him see that she didn't ihave/i it, but before she could move at all, she felt herself kicked again, and thrown onto her stomach. She groaned, her arms trapped beneath her, a heavy weight on top of her. Had Travers sat on her?
iOh,/i Dieu i(God), please,/i she thought desperately. iDon't let me die./i
She felt a very sudden, almost frigid draft as her clothes were torn off. Caresse's eyes grew wide, and she opened her mouth to issue a wordless scream, completely terrified. She bucked, wanting to throw the weight off of her, wanting to at least be free to attempt running. She couldn't move though, or maneuver her arms to be of any use. She heard their laughter again, and shrieked.
"iNon, non!/i" She screamed, kicking as best she could when rough hands were sliding across her naked back. "No!"
It felt like hours later when she was finally alone again. They'd taken her, each of them, she expected. Travers had twice. Maybe thrice? She hadn't kept count; it was too painful. Now she huddled in on herself, waiting for them to leave. She heard someone - probably Savill - laugh, and spit. The saliva landed near her face, and closed her eyes, disgusted; with him, with herself, with her body's betrayal.
When their footsteps died, she curled up and buried her face in her hands, sobbing. Each in drawn breath was like the twist of a knife in her ribs; she'd be surprised if the man hadn't broken anything. Blood covered the insides of her thighs. It had pleased Travers to no end to find out she was a virgin; he'd been all the crueler. How could a whore like herself never have been with a man, he wanted to know. Or perhaps it wasn't men she was interested in? Perhaps she preferred a woman's touch, as so many men did, he'd said.
She'd had to listen to the insults, the derogatory laughs through her own rape.
Rape; she'd been raped. And what was worse, she couldn't go to the police and report it. Who would believe iher?/i She was trash; she wasn't needed, her word meant nothing. Travers' position wasn't much higher than hers, but he knew how to seem innocent in front of the authorities. Otherwise, he'd have been hung long before this. Or beheaded.
Breathing was getting harder and harder; she was only taking in shallow amounts of air to avoid the pain in her ribs and stomach, but even that wasn't working anymore. It all hurt so much -
She heard soft laughter above her and scowled, trying to stop her sobs. It wasn't exactly cruel - but it certainly wasn't a nice laugh, either. And it was strangely.pretty. She didn't need anyone to know she was there; not yet. She bit her lip and halted her breath, listening hard. Softly, so quiet she could barely hear it, a voice rose out of the night's darkness
"Wandering child.
So lost.
So helpless.
Yearning for my
Guidance."
Caresse gasped, and forced herself into a sitting position, clutching at her front with a wince of pain. "Who's there?" She gasped out. It was a song - a ibeautiful/i song. She wanted to hear more; she wanted to her the rest!
All that reached her ears was more laughter. And then - silence. She sighed, and hung her head, hissing in pain. "Oh, God," she murmured. Unable to hold herself up, she laid back down on the cold stones. The was a blackness edging around her vision, and she closed her eyes, too tired to fight anymore. Let her die here, in the alleys; the same as she'd been born. "Let it all end."
The last thing she heard, before passing off into the beautiful oblivion, was the same soft laughter of before.