Welcome Readers! I am really excited to be posting this story. This is something I've been tinkering with for a while now. This story will be short, maybe ten chapters? I already have five chapters written, so that's good!
A couple of things, first this story is rated M. Let me tell you Friends, it's M for a reason. This is one fucked up story. Seriously, it's extremely fucked up. But hey, if you're into fucked up, dark stories, I hope you like it.
Also, I've hit bad writers block with my other main story I Found. Everything I write just doesn't flow so this is what I'm doing until my muse returns for that one. Hopefully not too long.
This is all human, so no vampires. Also, Bella is very OOC in this story. Edward is awful.
Please review, pretty please. I love to know your initially reactions and what you think about this one. Just don't flame this story, I've already warned that it's fucked up.
Anyways, here we go.
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
xxx
She laughs, her voice high and cackling, as she tosses her unnaturally bleached hair over her shoulder and flashing her equally unnatural white teeth at the man opposite her. He responds in equal fervor, little touches on her arm go unnoticed with the rest of the group, the way his eyes look just a tad too long at her unbuttoned blouse. She's fucking him, and he's too stupid to realize she doesn't give a rat's ass about him, but rather that pretty promotion all wrapped up nicely with big bow on top.
Everyone laughs at her joke, not that it's remotely funny. She orders another round of beers. It's been three rounds already. Everyone is getting a hair louder and a bit looser, shedding off their usual professional personas, a few of them stand up and start dancing with each other. The music is loud and the room is raucous, the stench of booze permeating the air.
It sets my teeth on edge.
"Are you not drinking Bella?" She says.
I shift awkwardly. "No, I have an early morning tomorrow."
Her eyes roll.
My skin feels hot, I look down a little. If I come stumbling home, Mike is going to be livid. I'm already late enough as it is, and he's probably pissed that he's on his own for dinner.
Pierson, my other coworker smiles at me. "Come on, just one more," he says.
I tap my fingers on my leg. I've already had two and if I don't get home soon, I'll have to deal with Mike bitching even more than usual. Pushing the glass further from me, I grab my purse.
"I really need to head home, but I'll see you guys tomorrow," I say. Looking up at her, I smile. "Bye Lauren."
Everyone says goodbye, except her, she just quickly turns to our manager and continues feeding his ego. Dismissal.
My hand curls into my palm, as I walk out of the bar. I don't know why this irritates me, it's not as if I'm friends with any of them. I'm fairly certain none of them are real friends either. It's all just office politics. So I really don't know why I do this to myself. I hate beer and I hate small talk, and I certainly don't want to spend more time than absolutely necessary with these people. They probably feel the same.
"Bella."
My leg twitches. God, I just want to get home. I turn to my office manager.
"Yeah," I say, quietly tapping my foot.
His eyes sweep down my body, leering at me.
"You know, if you were more confident, you could really go far in our department," he says with a smile.
My stomach churns. Is he trying to be charming? His teeth are slightly crooked and yellowed. All those cigarettes will do that.
Lack of confidence. It's written in every evaluation I've had with this company. 'Employee produces exceptional work, though lacks confidence and leadership skills.'
I laugh quietly and tuck a loose strand behind my ear. "Yes, I've been told."
He grabs my hand and steps closer to me.
His skin feels greasy against mine. I refrain from immediately pulling back. Goosebumps erupt on my arm as he caresses my hand with his thumb.
"You just need a little push is all," he says stepping forward.
My feet step back unsteadily as I swallow. My skin feels like it's crawling.
"Take Lauren for example," He says then drops his eyes at my chest. "She's very forthcoming about what she wants, doesn't take no for an answer. You'd do well to imitate that," he says as he looks back to my eyes.
My stomach rolls a little. You mean fuck you, cause that's the only thing she's probably exceptional at. Slowly I extract my hand from his greasy one. His disgusting breath invades my nostrils and I try not to dry heave.
"She certainly makes a lasting impression," I say before pausing. "Thanks for the tip, Dalton. I'll keep it in mind."
I turn on my heels and briskly walk towards the subway.
Goddamn Lauren. Pretty Lauren. Fun Lauren. My fingers curl into my palm. God I hate the bitch. Lauren, the office slut. She's going to get this fucking promotion, the promotion I deserve, and why? Because she's spreading her legs across Dalton's desk. It doesn't matter that I pick up all the slack, that I'm the one who pushes the numbers up, no, she's blowing Dalton and I'm not, so she's going to have a nice benefit's package with a pretty new salary and I'm still going to be stuck in my shitty cubicle.
I want to scream.
My phone buzzes in my hand. Mike. Great.
Where the fuck are you?
Jesus. So it's going to be one of those nights. I'm on my-
Another buzz.
Call me now.
Buzz. Well if you would just give me a second.
I'm serious. Call me right the fuck now.
Buzz.
Who's with you?
Buzz.
My lip curls.
It's Pierson isn't it?
Buzz.
You're such a bitch! Do I have to go the fuck off for you to listen? Just fucking call me!
Oh, for the love of god. Calm down, I'm on my way. And no, I'm not with Pierson.
Buzz.
God, I want to hurl it down the station's steps. My fingers flex around the phone. Fuck it. I'm not reading his ridiculous ranting.
The subway station is dark and devoid of any people. The area is completely silent except for this low hum.
Little hairs on my neck stand as I descend the stairs and my chest tightens. Slowly I turn my head but there's no one there. This is stupid, you're just being paranoid. It's all the beers. Shit, I knew I shouldn't have had so many drinks. My skin feels hot and the air is sticky. These hot and humid summer nights are killing me. A trickle of sweat drips down between my breasts.
A sharp click sounds to my right.
My heart rate accelerates, and my hands shake. I stop walking. Turning around I check my surroundings. There's no one with me. The shadows in the corner begin to loom slowly. Jesus Christ. Stop this, stop freaking out for no reason.
My nails dig deeper in my palm. Breathe just breathe. You're being ridiculous, you're being-
A hand slaps over my mouth as an arm snakes tightly around my chest.
What the fuck? My legs thrash, my mouth opens to scream, but no sound comes out.
My phone goes flying across the concrete.
He chuckles. "You're quite the fighter," he says. "It's useless."
My body tightens. My heart rate explodes. The fuck it is! I immediately go limp in his arms.
"Good Girl," he whispers in my ear.
His voice is warm and patronizing. My fingers curl into my palm so hard it cuts my skin. I drop my head and slam it backwards.
"Goddamn it!" He bellows, propelling me face forward into the dirty, stone wall. He presses hard against me as blood pours into my mouth.
I gasp, pain blossoms from my chest. This isn't happening!
"So you want it rough?" His voice is husky and I can feel his arousal digging into my back. "Don't worry, I won't disappoint."
I thrash harder against his hold. Sick motherfucker. Fight. I have to fight him off.
He twist me around and slams me back against the wall again, my head cracks against the stone. His other hand pushes my right arm against wall while his shoulder pins my other arm, his knee is digging into my groin.
Black spots dance across my vision. His face is blurry. I try sinking my teeth into his palm.
His hand is cupped against my mouth preventing my teeth from sinking into the flesh. Something sharp sticks into my neck. His lip curls into a sadistic grin.
"Oh Pet, you have no idea what I have in store for you."
Shit. Fight. He's going to hurt you if you! My legs start tingling. I can't, I can't I can't! He's going to hurt me. I have to do something. Anything!
"Shhh now, it'll all be over soon," he says.
My heart accelerates. Calm down and think. THINK! My brain is fuzzy, my legs are numb. He's probably going to rape me. Pee. Pee. Spots dance across my vision, my eyes feel heavy. PEE! Something warm flows down my legs.
His knee immediately retracts a little. His lip curls, sneering at me.
A loud, obnoxious sound erupts to the right of us. Mike is calling. It's his special ringtone.
I hear myself giggling. It doesn't sound right. Why am I laughing? It's the drugs. The motherfucker drugged me. I can't stop laughing. My legs go slack against him. I feel sick. I'm going to kill him if I live.
"I'm going to kill you," I slur.
His green eyes darken.
Such pretty eyes. My vision blurs and I collapse in his arms, giggling. Everything turns black.
Well damn. Bet he wasn't quite expecting that. Please let me know what you think. Review please!