Truth Out Of Darkness
Chapter 49
Chloe struggled wearily for consciousness. With a great deal of effort, she slowly opened her eyes. A thick fog clouded her brain. It was so hard to think. She slowly took stock of her surroundings. Right away she noticed that she was lying on her side on a cold hardwood floor. It was very dark and stuffy. She wanted to hyperventilate. {Calm down Chloe. Breathe. It's okay.} She struggled to get in an upright position and immediately found that her hands had been tied tightly behind her back. The discovery sent cold chills of fear through her body. {Where am I? How did I get here?} Hot tears burned her eyes. She gradually remembered being on the pier and running into…
"Father" she whispered out loud. {He was behind everything. He's the one who's been after me.} Her heart pounded in her ears. {I've got to get out of here!} Her sore arm muscles screamed when she tried to move them.
"AAAH!" she cried aloud, wincing from the shooting pain up her arms. Apparently, her hands had been tied for quite some time. She moved slowly, gingerly to a sitting position. She then noticed a small, nickel sized bruise on her upper arm. She saw a mark that looked like it might have caused by a needle. {Was I drugged?} That would explain the pounding in her head and her difficulty thinking.
{How long was I out?} Unfortunately, her watch was behind her back. She looked around for some clue. There was very little light to see by, but soon her eyes gradually adjusted. She was in a small room of what looked to be an old house. She did finally make out two windows that were heavily boarded. Starlight poured through tiny slits in the boards. {It's nighttime. I've been out at least five hours.} She tried to calm her racing heart. {I've got to get out of here, before he comes back.}
She struggled to stand on her feet, which wasn't easy with her hands tied. She realized that it would be much easier to escape with her hands in front of her. After twisting and bending in ways that would make a contortionist scream in pain, she finally was able to move her arms down under her feet. She stepped through her arms and they were now in front of her. The pain in her arms subsided until there was just a dull ache.
She was trying to open one of the windows when a door opened behind her. Bright light flooded the room from a handheld electric lamp, carried by a man she knew all too well.
"Ah, I see Sleeping Beauty is finally awake. And trying to escape, no less. How brave, how courageous. How utterly futile. There is no escape, my sweet little Chloe. Not now. Not ever."
Chloe slowly backed away from him, eyes wide with fear. She soon found herself in a corner, with nowhere to go. She looked away from him, she couldn't meet his eyes. The light from the lamp illuminated the room, and with a cold shock she realized where she was.
"I.. I'm back in the house. I'm in the house." She began to cry, as memories of this house, of what happened in this house assaulted her. She was back in her room, her old bedroom, where he used to come into her bed at night. She closed her eyes and clutched her temples, trying to shut out the images. But they were too strong, too vivid.
"I'm glad you remember our special place. I thought this would be a good place for you to die. It's only fitting. You betrayed me here, you should die here." He said, his voice surreally calm. An insane light blazed in his eyes.
Chloe couldn't move, immobilized by fear and dread. She tried to speak, to stall him. "You're… supposed to be in jail."
He laughed. "Oh, they let me out early. Good behavior and all that. Doesn't it make you feel proud to see American justice in action?" He stepped closer to her while he talked. "I thought about you, in prison. I thought about you every day. I remembered how it was when we were together, the love we shared. I could have even forgiven your betrayal. But one day a buddy of mine who had been released a few months earlier sent me some pictures he had found on the Internet."
Chloe's blood froze in understanding. The operagirl.net site that had been set up as a cruel prank on Chloe.
"Imagine my surprise. I'm rotting away in jail because of your vicious lies, and you're flaunting your body on the Internet. You did it just to taunt me. You always were such a little tease. Making fun of me with those pictures. But I had the last laugh. I had my buddy use that site to track you down, find out where you lived. Then as soon as I was released I went to find you. I've been watching you now for three months. I've been everywhere you've been. I know everyone you've been with. I know you already have a new boy not weeks after you dumped the last one. Slut!" he spat at her.
"That was when I knew that you had to pay, for what you've done to me. You ruined my life. I had a good job. I was the head psychiatrist at Chicago General. But your lies ended it all and sent me to jail for three excruciatingly long years. Yes. You are going to pay. And not even your boy Brady will be able to save you from what I do to you."
As Chloe listened to his insane tirade, one simple truth became abundantly clear to her. {He's insane. It wasn't my fault.} The mention of Brady's name fueled her courage, her strength. She felt her temper rise and smiled. Anger was better than fear. She stiffened her back and clenched her jaw. No matter what happened tonight, at least she would fight. {It's time this @$$hole got a taste of Chloe attitude.}
"How did you ever become a psychiatrist? You're insane. And yet you treat others? Where did you get your degree?" She mocked.
He sneered at her. "If I am insane, it's because you made me that way."
"Oh, I made you rape me?" she accused.
"Rape! Is that what you're calling it now?"
"That's what it was – that's all it ever was." She replied bitingly.
"You're wrong. It was love. The most beautiful love two people can share, and you betrayed that love! I gave you everything and you betrayed me!" He hit her viciously. He screamed at her and rained blows down on her face.
She cowered as memories of her previous beatings assailed her mind. Fear threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted to shut down, run away in her mind. {Keep it together, Chloe. Don't let him win.} She was disoriented by the beating and the drugs that were still in her system. She fell to her knees.
He moved forward, his eyes leering over her body. His voice was soft, deceptively gentle. "Even after all you've done to me, Chloe, I still love you." He ran his hands over her thick black sweater, and began to breathe rapidly.
She tensed, unable to move from fear, assaulted by shame, guilt. She shut her eyes when his hands slipped under her sweater, fumbled with her bra.
"You're so beautiful, Chloe." He breathed in her ear. Tears spilled from her eyes as he sloppily kissed her neck, hands all over her body. "How about it? One last go for old time's sake?" He sneered mockingly, pushing her down on the floor. "Be a good girl, Chloe, and make your father happy." Father. Chloe remembered her adoptive father, how much he had loved her. She then thought of Craig, who was as much her father as any man could be.
He fumbled with his belt, and for a few brief seconds, his hands weren't on her. He shifted his weight off of her so he could undo his belt. At that moment, she acted.
She brought her knee up into his gut while giving him a swift hard kick in the groin. The pain was multiplied greatly due to his arousal. As he hit the floor, she got to her feet and kicked him repeatedly in the stomach and groin.
"You are NOT my FATHER!" she screamed at him. "This isn't LOVE! You don't know what love is!" She cried, venting years of rage, shame and grief at him. "Love gives, it doesn't take. It places the other person's needs ahead of your own. It is kind, gentle, thoughtful, and CONSENTUAL! You don't know what love is. And you never will." She gave him one final kick in the ribs, and took off running out the bedroom door.
She was severely hampered by her bonds. Blood trickled out of her eyes due to the beating he gave her, and the drugs made her dizzy. She finally made it to the kitchen and the back door. Her joy quickly faded when the door refused to open. She desperately pulled on it and pushed, twisting the knob until it burned her palms. Nothing. It was locked. Then she saw the new deadbolt lock on the door. There was no getting out without the key.
She quickly ran to the front door. It was locked as well, but also boarded. She ran to the living room window. It was also locked and boarded. She kicked at the glass, and was relieved when it broke on the third try. She ignored the deep cuts on her ankle and cleared the rest of the glass out of the windowpane. She grabbed a large shard of glass and tucked it in her black skirt. She began kicking at the boards, but they were made of a very heavy solid wood. She looked around for something heavy to beat against it. Her heart sank when she saw that the only items left in the room were a large sofa and chair. It was then that she heard footsteps.
She ran out the other entrance to the room and ran up the back stairs to the second floor. She hid in a small linen closet. {I've got to untie my hands.} She took out the piece of glass and set about untying her bonds. By the time she was done, many minutes later, blood flowed from cuts on her hands and wrists. She tore off scraps from her skirt and fashioned makeshift bandages.
She sat, squnched up in the closet, and tried to calm down. {What's my next move?} {I have to get the keys from him. There is no other way out. I can't break down the boards.} Then a thought occurred to her. {What about the windows on this floor? Would they be boarded also?} She listened for any sign of her attacker and quietly left the closet.
She had taken five cautious steps down the hall, when she was suddenly tackled from behind. As she fell to the floor, her head cracked against a hall table. Bright flashes of light sparked in front of her eyes. Confusion crawled over her. She couldn't move, couldn't think, and couldn't react.
"Bitch!" He yelled at her and kicked her hard in the ribs. Pain shot through her chest as they cracked. Her breath came in ragged, painful gasps. She could do nothing as he tore at her sweater. She couldn't even cry her tears of despair, hopelessness. No, she cried silently. Not again. As her 'father' moved closer to her, she cried out in her mind.
{Brady! Save me!}
Chapter 49
Chloe struggled wearily for consciousness. With a great deal of effort, she slowly opened her eyes. A thick fog clouded her brain. It was so hard to think. She slowly took stock of her surroundings. Right away she noticed that she was lying on her side on a cold hardwood floor. It was very dark and stuffy. She wanted to hyperventilate. {Calm down Chloe. Breathe. It's okay.} She struggled to get in an upright position and immediately found that her hands had been tied tightly behind her back. The discovery sent cold chills of fear through her body. {Where am I? How did I get here?} Hot tears burned her eyes. She gradually remembered being on the pier and running into…
"Father" she whispered out loud. {He was behind everything. He's the one who's been after me.} Her heart pounded in her ears. {I've got to get out of here!} Her sore arm muscles screamed when she tried to move them.
"AAAH!" she cried aloud, wincing from the shooting pain up her arms. Apparently, her hands had been tied for quite some time. She moved slowly, gingerly to a sitting position. She then noticed a small, nickel sized bruise on her upper arm. She saw a mark that looked like it might have caused by a needle. {Was I drugged?} That would explain the pounding in her head and her difficulty thinking.
{How long was I out?} Unfortunately, her watch was behind her back. She looked around for some clue. There was very little light to see by, but soon her eyes gradually adjusted. She was in a small room of what looked to be an old house. She did finally make out two windows that were heavily boarded. Starlight poured through tiny slits in the boards. {It's nighttime. I've been out at least five hours.} She tried to calm her racing heart. {I've got to get out of here, before he comes back.}
She struggled to stand on her feet, which wasn't easy with her hands tied. She realized that it would be much easier to escape with her hands in front of her. After twisting and bending in ways that would make a contortionist scream in pain, she finally was able to move her arms down under her feet. She stepped through her arms and they were now in front of her. The pain in her arms subsided until there was just a dull ache.
She was trying to open one of the windows when a door opened behind her. Bright light flooded the room from a handheld electric lamp, carried by a man she knew all too well.
"Ah, I see Sleeping Beauty is finally awake. And trying to escape, no less. How brave, how courageous. How utterly futile. There is no escape, my sweet little Chloe. Not now. Not ever."
Chloe slowly backed away from him, eyes wide with fear. She soon found herself in a corner, with nowhere to go. She looked away from him, she couldn't meet his eyes. The light from the lamp illuminated the room, and with a cold shock she realized where she was.
"I.. I'm back in the house. I'm in the house." She began to cry, as memories of this house, of what happened in this house assaulted her. She was back in her room, her old bedroom, where he used to come into her bed at night. She closed her eyes and clutched her temples, trying to shut out the images. But they were too strong, too vivid.
"I'm glad you remember our special place. I thought this would be a good place for you to die. It's only fitting. You betrayed me here, you should die here." He said, his voice surreally calm. An insane light blazed in his eyes.
Chloe couldn't move, immobilized by fear and dread. She tried to speak, to stall him. "You're… supposed to be in jail."
He laughed. "Oh, they let me out early. Good behavior and all that. Doesn't it make you feel proud to see American justice in action?" He stepped closer to her while he talked. "I thought about you, in prison. I thought about you every day. I remembered how it was when we were together, the love we shared. I could have even forgiven your betrayal. But one day a buddy of mine who had been released a few months earlier sent me some pictures he had found on the Internet."
Chloe's blood froze in understanding. The operagirl.net site that had been set up as a cruel prank on Chloe.
"Imagine my surprise. I'm rotting away in jail because of your vicious lies, and you're flaunting your body on the Internet. You did it just to taunt me. You always were such a little tease. Making fun of me with those pictures. But I had the last laugh. I had my buddy use that site to track you down, find out where you lived. Then as soon as I was released I went to find you. I've been watching you now for three months. I've been everywhere you've been. I know everyone you've been with. I know you already have a new boy not weeks after you dumped the last one. Slut!" he spat at her.
"That was when I knew that you had to pay, for what you've done to me. You ruined my life. I had a good job. I was the head psychiatrist at Chicago General. But your lies ended it all and sent me to jail for three excruciatingly long years. Yes. You are going to pay. And not even your boy Brady will be able to save you from what I do to you."
As Chloe listened to his insane tirade, one simple truth became abundantly clear to her. {He's insane. It wasn't my fault.} The mention of Brady's name fueled her courage, her strength. She felt her temper rise and smiled. Anger was better than fear. She stiffened her back and clenched her jaw. No matter what happened tonight, at least she would fight. {It's time this @$$hole got a taste of Chloe attitude.}
"How did you ever become a psychiatrist? You're insane. And yet you treat others? Where did you get your degree?" She mocked.
He sneered at her. "If I am insane, it's because you made me that way."
"Oh, I made you rape me?" she accused.
"Rape! Is that what you're calling it now?"
"That's what it was – that's all it ever was." She replied bitingly.
"You're wrong. It was love. The most beautiful love two people can share, and you betrayed that love! I gave you everything and you betrayed me!" He hit her viciously. He screamed at her and rained blows down on her face.
She cowered as memories of her previous beatings assailed her mind. Fear threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted to shut down, run away in her mind. {Keep it together, Chloe. Don't let him win.} She was disoriented by the beating and the drugs that were still in her system. She fell to her knees.
He moved forward, his eyes leering over her body. His voice was soft, deceptively gentle. "Even after all you've done to me, Chloe, I still love you." He ran his hands over her thick black sweater, and began to breathe rapidly.
She tensed, unable to move from fear, assaulted by shame, guilt. She shut her eyes when his hands slipped under her sweater, fumbled with her bra.
"You're so beautiful, Chloe." He breathed in her ear. Tears spilled from her eyes as he sloppily kissed her neck, hands all over her body. "How about it? One last go for old time's sake?" He sneered mockingly, pushing her down on the floor. "Be a good girl, Chloe, and make your father happy." Father. Chloe remembered her adoptive father, how much he had loved her. She then thought of Craig, who was as much her father as any man could be.
He fumbled with his belt, and for a few brief seconds, his hands weren't on her. He shifted his weight off of her so he could undo his belt. At that moment, she acted.
She brought her knee up into his gut while giving him a swift hard kick in the groin. The pain was multiplied greatly due to his arousal. As he hit the floor, she got to her feet and kicked him repeatedly in the stomach and groin.
"You are NOT my FATHER!" she screamed at him. "This isn't LOVE! You don't know what love is!" She cried, venting years of rage, shame and grief at him. "Love gives, it doesn't take. It places the other person's needs ahead of your own. It is kind, gentle, thoughtful, and CONSENTUAL! You don't know what love is. And you never will." She gave him one final kick in the ribs, and took off running out the bedroom door.
She was severely hampered by her bonds. Blood trickled out of her eyes due to the beating he gave her, and the drugs made her dizzy. She finally made it to the kitchen and the back door. Her joy quickly faded when the door refused to open. She desperately pulled on it and pushed, twisting the knob until it burned her palms. Nothing. It was locked. Then she saw the new deadbolt lock on the door. There was no getting out without the key.
She quickly ran to the front door. It was locked as well, but also boarded. She ran to the living room window. It was also locked and boarded. She kicked at the glass, and was relieved when it broke on the third try. She ignored the deep cuts on her ankle and cleared the rest of the glass out of the windowpane. She grabbed a large shard of glass and tucked it in her black skirt. She began kicking at the boards, but they were made of a very heavy solid wood. She looked around for something heavy to beat against it. Her heart sank when she saw that the only items left in the room were a large sofa and chair. It was then that she heard footsteps.
She ran out the other entrance to the room and ran up the back stairs to the second floor. She hid in a small linen closet. {I've got to untie my hands.} She took out the piece of glass and set about untying her bonds. By the time she was done, many minutes later, blood flowed from cuts on her hands and wrists. She tore off scraps from her skirt and fashioned makeshift bandages.
She sat, squnched up in the closet, and tried to calm down. {What's my next move?} {I have to get the keys from him. There is no other way out. I can't break down the boards.} Then a thought occurred to her. {What about the windows on this floor? Would they be boarded also?} She listened for any sign of her attacker and quietly left the closet.
She had taken five cautious steps down the hall, when she was suddenly tackled from behind. As she fell to the floor, her head cracked against a hall table. Bright flashes of light sparked in front of her eyes. Confusion crawled over her. She couldn't move, couldn't think, and couldn't react.
"Bitch!" He yelled at her and kicked her hard in the ribs. Pain shot through her chest as they cracked. Her breath came in ragged, painful gasps. She could do nothing as he tore at her sweater. She couldn't even cry her tears of despair, hopelessness. No, she cried silently. Not again. As her 'father' moved closer to her, she cried out in her mind.
{Brady! Save me!}