Nobody ever knew how easily the hearts of men could be so corrupted by lust in order for them to act out their sick, perverted, twisted fantasies, but she did. She did nothing to lure those disgusting pigs to her attention or tempt them into raping her, those four bastards who hassled her with their distasteful howling and whooping at all hours of the night when she was all alone. She never knew what was going to happen that summer, that a peaceful vacation would turn into her worst nightmare. All she wanted was to write her first novel and not be disturbed, but those four men, if you could even call them that, invaded her privacy, robbed her of her innocent, sweet-hearted nature, and left her for dead after they finished what they started. In the end, those bastards paid for their crimes. Not with currency, but with their lives.
Jennifer Hills, the survivor of this horrible ordeal, drove the motorboat further up the river, heading back towards the cabin. Her revenge had been carried out successfully, and now it was time for her to go home. The result was gratifying, one wrong of the past made right by her own doing. Those four bastards who tore up the pages of her manuscript the same way they tore up her body got just what they deserved, and Jennifer made sure that none of them would harm another woman ever again. Maybe they weren't so bad at first, just a bunch of simple-minded, country hooligans with very little manners, but Jennifer would never allow herself to accept that.
Coming to the riverbank, Jennifer stepped on grassy land and walked up to the cabin, opening the door and stepping inside. She went upstairs to the bedroom and threw on some conservative clothes over her bikini, then she grabbed her suitcases and laid them on the bed before she went to the dresser and started packing everything she brought with her, taking the gun as a souvenir.
On her first night in the cabin, Jennifer noticed there was something stuck in the back of the drawer and expressed little emotion upon finding a loaded weapon hidden in the back of the dresser. Looking back on it now, finding the gun turned out to be a blessing in disguise. She hadn't much use for weapons before, but luckily for Jennifer, her father taught her how to shoot a few rounds back when she was a little girl. Jennifer never forgot the lessons she learned in her youth and thanked God that Daddy taught her at a young age how to defend herself against a dangerous animal. If only she had been taught how to defend herself from a different kind of animal years earlier.
Jennifer brought the suitcases downstairs and took them out to her car, placing them in the trunk, then she went back inside to gather up her writing utensils, notepads and typewriter, loading them in the backseat as she took one last look at the cabin. Glancing out at the lake for the final time, Jennifer opened the door and slid her caboose into the front seat of her car, taking the keys from her pocket and inserting them in to the engine to start it up.
Driving away without ever looking back, Jennifer reflected on the events that occurred over the last couple of weeks: Her arrival at the gas station, to the moment she stepped out of her car and ran down to the lake for a swim, how she was enjoying a well-deserved sunbath when those maniacs circled her canoe and dragged her back to shore to have their way with her by raping her, one by one. Her legs closed automatically just thinking about it, and a wave of nausea found itself wanting to crawl up her throat and make her vomit, most violently.
Finding the memories too painful, Jennifer pulled over to the side of the road and turned the engine off before folding her arms over the steering wheel, burying her head into them to have herself a long, good cry. She broke down in sobs, not caring if those who drove by saw her balling like a baby. They didn't know what she was going through, or what she had been through. They would never understand how she felt or what she was feeling.
Before she went to stalk her targets, Jennifer went to church to ask God for forgiveness, already formulating her plan to kill the four men who wronged her. She could have gone to the police and file out a report, but a small voice convinced her to act out alone. The grocery boy was the first and easiest one to kill. He had a puppy dog crush on her from the first moment he saw her, and Jennifer knew just how to lead him into a trap. She called in an order for delivery, knowing he would have no choice but to ride out and deliver food to her door. When he arrived, Jennifer lured him into the woods, wearing nothing but a long, flowing lingerie, testing him to see if he would resist temptation. When he failed to restrain himself, Jennifer fashioned a rope around his neck and strung him up, watching him twitch and convulse until he struggled no more, then disposed of the mentally ill, recently-deceased man into the lake, along with his bicycle.
The next day, Jennifer drove to the gas station to seek out the attendant and took a drive with him out to the woods, where she forced him to strip off his clothes at gunpoint. He tried explaining the reason why he and his friends raped her, claiming she had brought it upon herself by dressing in revealing clothes without a bra and showing off too much skin, but Jennifer was smart enough not to believe his lies. It wasn't how she dressed that made him and his three friends do it, it was themselves. When they looked at her, all they saw was a set of tits and a nice ass to have fun with, but to Jennifer, it wasn't fun at all.
Jennifer feigned acceptance for her "actions" and invented the gas station attendant back to the cabin for a bubble bath, massaging shoulders before using her hand on his manhood, her other one reaching for a knife to slice off the offending appendage. Before he realized what happened, Jennifer got out of the tub and left him locked in the bathroom to bleed to death. His screams of agony were drowned out by loud, opera music, while she sat in a chair and listened, reveling in his death. Afterwards, she dumped his body in the basement and burned his clothes, cleaning up the bloody mess left behind in the bathtub.
By the next day, there were only two left to be dealt with. The remaining men took their boat out to the lake, but what they didn't know was that Jennifer was watching them close by. One of them stayed on the shore in case she showed up, but Jennifer was way ahead of their little game. Swimming out to the boat, she pulled herself in and pushed the dark-haired one into the water, circling him a few times before stealing an axe from the blonde-haired one, plunging it into his back before dealing with the dark-haired one, who begged her to spare him. Her response was repeating back to him the same, foul words he said to her when he assaulted her and pulling the cord on the motor to mutilate him with the boat's propeller.
Jennifer sniffled as she brought herself back to reality, straightening up in her seat and wiping away salty tears from her baby blue eyes. Pulling back onto the road, she turned the radio on to some music and continued nonstop on her way back to New York. She would finish writing her novel at home, then, once she was finished with that, begin working on another novel, a story of truth and vengeance, one that would make the reader cringe from the contents of the gruesome tale or cry in sympathy to the lead character's plight. Either way, the story would be memorable, if not controversial.