Authors Note from emptyvoices: I want to say thank you to Royalty09 for her contribution in writing some of the more mature themes in this chapter and please if anyone has not had the chance to read either of her stories, Be Still My Beating Heart and the sequel Where Angels Fear to Tread, I greatly encourage you to read them now! This chapter is why our story has an M rating for it's graphic scenes involving the rape.
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Lisa relaxed on the soft, leather couch of her apartment, sipping a glass of red merlot as she attempted to put the strange meeting with Tess into the distant recesses of her memory.
"Either way, he'll come back for you, Lisa. He'll destroy all those that get in his way just as he did to me. You really think you're safe and protected from that?"
"She's definitely lost her mind." Lisa said out loud, shaking her head with disgust. "I don't even know if that's the true story."
Standing up, she walked over to the kitchen and put her wine glass in the sink as she poured herself a glass of water. The humidity in Miami was sweltering, almost unendurable. She smiled faintly recalling all the tourists who upon arrival to her hotel had collapsed from dehydration assuming that the caffeinated and alcoholic beverages they consumed were just as equal to water.
The phone rang startling Lisa from her reverie and she immediately answered it.
"Hey, Lisa? Are you feeling better?" Cynthia's voice resonated with concern over the phone.
"As much as can be expected." Lisa murmured.
"You know, I have an idea of how to get your mind off today. Why don't you come over to my place in a few hours and I'll cook dinner and we can catch the next episode of Boston Legal." Cynthia suggested.
"I don't know. I'm kind of tired."
"Come on, Leese. It'll be relaxing, I promise."
Lisa glanced at the refrigerator as she considered Cynthia's request. It was true that she didn't feel much like cooking not that popping a TV lean cuisine dinner into the microwave required a great deal of culinary skill. It would be nice to actually eat a home cooked meal for once. She thought. Cynthia definitely had Lisa easily beat when it came to talent in the kitchen.
"Okay, you win. Do you need me to bring anything?" Lisa asked.
"Just yourself and maybe a bottle of wine." Cynthia replied.
"No problem. I'll be there at seven." Lisa said as she disconnected the phone. Checking the clock, she realized it was only three in the afternoon. Heading to her bedroom, she decided to take a two hour nap before she headed over to Cynthia's apartment to rid herself of any lingering exhaustion.
As she collapsed on the bed, the phone rang again on her nightstand. She picked it up.
"Hello?" She asked into the receiver. Silence greeted her in response. "Hello?" Lisa asked again. Nothing. Damn telemarketers. "Whatever it is you are selling, I'm not interested." Lisa said into the phone and slammed it back down on the hook as she lay back down on the cool sheets of her bed. Her eyes closed as she drifted off to sleep.
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"Oh dear!"
Cynthia ran over to the stove and quickly turned it off as the smell of smoke permeated the air. Steam wafted from under the pot as the water that had boiled over hit the hot surface. She scowled, sighing at the fact that she forgot to turn the burner down to a simmer. Cynthia had learned in high school how to cook and she was relatively decent at it, but sometimes she forgot about a pot on the stove or a pan in the oven and ended up with burnt food. Thankfully, the pasta she was cooking wasn't going to scorch on the Teflon bottom.
Cynthia grabbed a fork, cutting a string of spaghetti to see if it was done. When it cut easily, she poured the pasta in a colander draining the water from it. The alfredo sauce was finished as well and the lamb still had twenty minutes left in the oven. Now all she had to do was wait for Lisa to arrive and they could eat, drink, and veg out in front of the television.
The doorbell echoed through the hallway. Cynthia rushed to the front door. "Hey you!" she started to say as she swung open the door only to be greeted by a dark, malicious smile. A scream erupted from Cynthia's mouth, and she attempted to throw the door shut in the man's face. He was too quick, and caught it before it slammed closed.
Cynthia dashed through the foyer into the dining room to the back door that led to the open backyard of her town home. As she turned the corner from the foyer though, she slammed into someone. Staring up, she gaped as she looked into a pair of chilling blue eyes. She had never seen them in person, but she knew instinctively who they belonged too.
Before Cynthia could scream or have a chance to run, Jackson Rippner shoved her violently to the unforgiving tile floor where she lay momentarily sprawled out and dazed from the impact. Rippner looked passed her and snapped his finger. Cynthia blinked rapidly trying to clear the haze from her vision as another man came into view. They spoke in hushed tones.
When they both turned to face her, Cynthia began trying pushing her way backwards from her assailants towards the stairs that led to her bedroom, her tail bone felt as if it had been split in two. I need to get up. If I can just get to the bedroom and lock the door…
"Take her, Holmes." Rippner ordered, smiling wickedly.
The other man loomed over her causing adrenaline to surge through her veins as Cynthia jumped to her feet and dashed for the stairs. A hand caught her by the hair, yanking her backwards. Cynthia crashed into her assailant as an arm encircled her waist in a grip of iron. She flailed her arms and legs, trying desperately to escape from the man's grasp but her attempts were futile as he pinned her arms to her side.
The man suddenly pushed her to the floor, and Cynthia cried out as her bruised tail bone exploded in agony from the brute force of the impact. In an instant, the man was on top of her. Cynthia became lightheaded for a moment, but as he positioned himself more fully on top of her body, her mind suddenly came into focus and she began to struggle wildly, trying to fight against what seemed to be inevitable.
"I know you can control her better than that, Holmes." Rippner said condescendingly as he casually sauntered towards them, holding a video camera in his hand. Switching it on, he aimed the lenses at her. "What, no smile for the camera, Cynthia? After all, you're the star." He said derisively.
Holmes caught both her wrists, pinning them above her head then shoved a gag into the struggling woman's mouth. He looked sideways up at Rippner whom nodded, and Holmes turned back to Cynthia grinning maliciously.
"Take her up to bed; after all, she is a lady," Rippner ordered.
Holmes instantly maneuvered her over his shoulder and carried her up the stairs, despite her muffled protests. Rippner followed behind, grinning ear-to-ear as he held the camera steady on Cynthia's terrified countenance.
She was thrown roughly onto her bed and her attacker, now brandishing a knife, sliced through her shirt with deadly accuracy. Only a few remaining threads prevented her from being fully exposed.
"Very nice," Rippner said to his partner. "Sometimes, it's what you don't see that's so much more enticing, isn't that right Cynthia?"
She suppressed the urge to vomit while her attacker tore at her pants, but could not control her sobs as he spread her legs apart and forced himself on her. All the while, she had to listen to her self-proclaimed videographer as he encouraged his partner onwards and derisively told her to smile for the camera.
Cynthia made one last attempt at freedom, clawing at this monster even as he raped her. She sunk her nails into his cheek, just below his right eye. He yelled and during his brief period of distraction, she managed to force her way out from under him. There was a glimmer of hope as she focused on the doorway but it was quickly dashed when Rippner grabbed her around the waist and threw her back into the arms of her rapist. Her momentary respite was over and the attack quickly resumed.
"Nice try, you little bitch," Holmes cursed as he pounded into her.
"Trust me, Cynthia; you don't want to make him angry. I suggest you lie there and take it…like any good woman should."
Though it seemed like an eternity, the attack finally came to an end. She felt numb as the reality of what had just happened began to set in.
"Your turn," Holmes said, his breath heavy as he pulled away from her.
Cynthia rolled onto her side, terrified by the prospect that this was going to happen all over again.
"No thanks; I'm not into sloppy seconds. I'm waiting for someone else," he responded and Cynthia was almost relieved, until it dawned on her, and she suddenly found the resolve to sit up. Lisa!
Rippner stood over her and pushed her back down onto the bed. He looked her over, assessing the whole situation while he licked his lips.
"You forgot something," he said to Holmes and extended his arm. Holmes promptly passed him the knife and without a moment's hesitation, Rippner cut into her. Those cold eyes never left her face as the blade pierced her skin, just above her breast. "There, that's better."
"What are we going to do with her now?" Holmes asked.
"That's the best part. Wait a minute. I'll be right back."
Cynthia listened as the blue eyed man hurried down the stairs. For a moment, all was silent, save for her labored breathing. Though she knew he wouldn't be gone long, her heart sank when she heard him bounding up the stairs.
"I'll grab her arms, you take her legs," Rippner commanded as he entered the room again.
Too weak and overcome with despair to fight any longer, Cynthia allowed them to lift her from the bed. When they reached the top of the staircase, Rippner stopped and winked at his partner in crime.
"I get it." Holmes said knowingly.
"One," Rippner said as they swung her dangerously over the stairs.
"Two."
Cynthia began to struggle but her attackers held fast.
"Three!" they yelled simultaneously and released their grip.
For a few seconds, it felt like she was flying, but as the stairs loomed closer, she screamed into her gag. Oh God, she thought when she hit the edge of a step and felt something in her lower back pop. Cynthia suddenly felt nothing from the waist down, as she plummeted down the remaining stairs.
When she landed on the cold tile floor barely clinging to consciousness, she found herself face to face with the lens of Rippner's video camera. Above her, she could hear him clapping slowly while he and his partner laughed. The last thing she remembered before she passed out was hearing the men coming down the stairs. They stepped over her as Rippner picked up the camera and opened the door for Holmes.
"Thanks for the help." Rippner said.
"Anytime," Holmes responded, taking a moment to lean over Cynthia's prone form. "Have a nice life," he taunted before he left.
Rippner stepped over her again, as though she weren't even there and made his way into the living room. The bait was about to be planted.
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Promptly at seven, Lisa arrived at Cynthia's apartment with the two remaining bottles of merlot within her grasp. I'll need them after the day I had today. She thought as she gently rapped on the door. There was no answer and she attempted to knock again. The door suddenly creaked open to Lisa's surprise.
It's not like Cynthia to leave her door unlocked. Walking through the entrance into her apartment, she glanced around hesitantly. "Cynthia?" She called out as she walked through the living room area into the well lit kitchen. The smell of burning meat permeated the small space as Lisa headed over to the oven finding the blackened remnants of a lamb roast inside. Quickly, she turned the stove off and started to head to the back of the apartment towards Cynthia's bedroom upstairs and gasped in shock at the horrifying image before her.
Cynthia was lying across the tiled floor; her torn flannel pants were dappled with blood as a series of bruises covered her body. Her white t-shirt had been cut open with deft precision leaving little to the imagination. Lisa looked at Cynthia through the surreal haze of her mind, thinking initially she was dead until she heard her emit a muffled groan and instantly she raced forwards. Grabbing a jacket out of the nearby closet, she started to cover Cynthia's exposed figure noticing for the first time a fresh, jagged cut which mirrored the location of Lisa's original scar.
This can't be happening. She told herself, feeling a surge of nausea overwhelm her. She leaned against the wall briefly as she clutched her stomach hoping the sensation would pass.
From the outer hallway, Lisa distinctly heard footsteps that ripped through the silence resonating from the family room. Instantly, she slammed the door to the foyer closed realizing that there was no lock to engage. She grasped Cynthia's shoulders as she tried to press against the door frame.
I won't be able to hold the door closed forever. She told herself. "Cynthia? Can you hear me?" Lisa asked desperately. Cynthia's eyes fluttered open as they focused on her momentarily.
"Lisa…" She whispered her voice filled with latent terror.
"Cynthia, we need to get out of here now. Can you walk?" Lisa asked desperately.
Cynthia looked at her pleadingly. "I can't….they….I can't feel my legs. Oh, God Leese, they…"
"It'll be okay Cynthia. Just stay with me." Lisa consoled not fully trusting her words. "Did you see their faces?"
"I…one of them, he forced me…I couldn't see him." She said softly as her eyes filled with tears and she moaned quietly.
"And the other?" Lisa asked gently.
"Just his eyes…chilling blue eyes that looked right through me. He…" Cynthia started to say.
"Jackson." Lisa muttered as she instantly looked around the room for a weapon. Seizing a heavy vase, she started to walk towards the door. There was no way out of this apartment except the way she came in. The small backyard had a high cement barrier which would be impossible to climb with Cynthia in tow and the only phone which she could use to summon help was located in the kitchen.
"Lisa…" Cynthia murmured as her eyelids closed.
"I'll get help Cynthia, I promise. He won't make it out of this alive." Lisa said to her. It seemed more of an oath to herself then to Cynthia, Lisa realized as she put her hand on the doorknob.
He's obsessed with you. That's why I need your help.
"I should have listened." She muttered, shaking her head. There was no time for that right now. Slowly, she opened the door and silently crept into the darkened hallway just as she heard noise starting to emanate from the family room area. As she approached the room, she saw diffuse light coming from the TV set. Why is the TV on? I know it was off when I came in. Lisa thought as she came closer only to have a sudden wave of disgust soar through her as she finally saw the images captured on the television.
In vivid detail, a camera managed to capture the graphic details of Cynthia's attack. Lisa's body froze as she witnessed the brutality of rape that she thought was only a distant nightmare from her past.
"That was great Cynthia. I really believe the camera loves you. Sure you don't want to smile for your audience? After all, you have Lisa to thank for all this.
"Oh my God. It can't be…" Lisa whispered in shock as the vase tumbled out of her sweaty palms.
The crash echoed throughout the apartment and she noticed a figure suddenly stand up from his original position on the couch turning to her with a malevolent grin, his soulless blue eyes were empty of any warmth or compassion.
"Jackson." She murmured softly as a surge of dread coursed through her. He started to walk towards her. I'm frozen! I can't move.
"A stunning piece of cinematography isn't it, Leese?" He asked her casually. "Perhaps I missed my calling."
"Why?" Lisa asked as she choked on the lump that lodged in her throat. "Why did you do this to her? She didn't deserve this, you sick bastard."
"Retribution, Lisa." He said lifting the camera as he was rapidly the closing the space between them. "And now it's your turn."
