This was a late night idea that I felt I had to write.
So do you think Greg's really killed Sara? Review- let me know.
Disclaimer: I own zilch.
Undertow
(1)
She struggled against his grip as he firmly pressed her wrists against the mattress the feeling of her pulse beating against his palm. It was wrong. He knew that but the feeling of her skin against his said otherwise. She did her best to deter him thrashing her legs against the mattress, her body in a frenzy which only seemed to encourage him.
"Greg...please" She pleaded with him, using his name to reason with him but it didn't work.
A burning sensation made itself known in the pit of his stomach as he roughly pushed into her. This was it. It was what he had been waiting for, all he had spent planning, the thing that had consumed to the back of his mind at every corner.
Her body ceased to move, all of her struggling melting into defeat as her dark eyes focused on the clock ticking away on the wall beyond them. Her pale skin gleaming in the poor overhead lights, the freckles that dusted her shoulders and her chest close enough for him to touch.
The sound of his ragged breaths collided with every passing second in the dense air as the desert heat swept through the room. His over exerted body collapsed as he let go but all she did was flinch a tear stinging her eye as she remained unmoving. It was as he studied her that it finally sunk in what he had done. It was as if the world had suddenly collapsed around his feet.
"I'm sorry" The words sounded foreign on his tongue as he attempted to provoke a reaction from her. "Sara I'm so sorry..."
There was nothing, she refused to face him, to look him in the eye and he knew he needed to do something. His life seemed to flash before his eyes as he imagined being caught and sent to prison. He needed to fix what he had done because if she walked out of there- it would be all over.
Swiftly straddling her he was once again faced her empty gaze as she tried to unravel his actions. The pillow seemed to suddenly appear between in hands and before he could stop himself it had been firmly placed over her face.
It took longer than he had expected it to. She fought a lot harder than he had expected her to finger nails clawing at his arms, her entire body arching hoping to unsteady him as her feet struggled for some leverage.
But it all stopped.
As he stepped off the bed his entire body shaking with the simple effort of breathing he honestly expected her to move- to pull the pillow away from her face and give him the half smile that made him weak at the knees. But that didn't happen. Her pale skin bruised by the way he had handled her remained tangled with the sheets, the pillow remained over her face.
He'd killed her.
Fear suddenly filled his system, replacing the exhaustion with pure adrenaline as his brain caught up with his actions. He stood at the foot of the bed, the moonlight from the window casting his ominous shadow over her still form. He had to do something, he knew that. He had enough experience in the field to know how easy it would be to work out just what had happened here, but he also had enough experience to be able to manipulate the evidence properly.
Greg lifted the pillow away from her face, studying the body for a few moments before lifting her into his arms and placing her on the cold wood floor. He stripped the bed of the sheets and removed the pillow case knowing that checking for seamen would be one of the first things they would do if she was found dead in her bed. And there was the blood. The proof he'd raped her running in scarlet across the patterns of the mattress and in the marks on her body.
He wiped down all the furniture in the bedroom that held his prints, carefully cleaning every inch knowing that a slight hint would raise suspicion. He collected her torn clothes and the beads from the necklace that had broken in their struggle. He packed all the things he had collected into a bin bag tossing it into the boot of his car. The only thing now was the body.
Greg took a deep breath casting his eye over the empty street before returning to the house picking Sara's body up into his arms once again. He put her down in the boot amongst all the other things, taking a moment to study her naked body before he slammed the door closed.
He hadn't wanted to hurt her. It had never been his intention but he hadn't been able to control it- the pressing need that he had suppressed for all of those years had come to light. It had presented itself in a way he had never wanted it to.
It was as if all of the noise at the back of his mind had stopped.
It was done.
