He's kissing her while slipping the short nightie over her head. Crazy in lust, he uses his strong hands to stroke her with them and his mouth. His bare chest rubs against her nipples, he cannot believe how good it feels to have her body sliding beneath his. He pushes into her sweet warmth, driving into her over and over again. This girl is great at sex, he may have to keep her around. While dropping his mouth to hers, he snakes his hand between their bodies and tweaks her clit. Moments later he can feel her coming, her walls gripping him like a vise.

Wanting more, he pulls out and flips her over, claiming her ass. She's so hot and tight, he groans to the sounds of their skin slapping together as he slams repeatedly into her. "Holy fuck," he screams when his own release bathes her insides.

As soon as he can feel his legs, he rolls off of her. She winks at him as she gets out of bed and walks over to the bar. The way she swings her hips in her nakedness makes his cock harden again. This is going to be an enjoyable night.

Moments later she returns carrying a glass for each of them. Handing him one, he nods and throws back the amber colored liquid. Before he can set the glass down, his eyes start to roll as blackness surrounds him.

He wakes up in the darkness. He can't move, not properly, he's wrapped up in a rope like a baby in its swaddling blanket. Finding it becoming hard to get enough air, he squirms and after much difficulty, he somehow manages to get onto his left side. It allows him to breathe deeper, which is at least a bit comforting. He can feel the sweat drench his skin, the throbbing of his own eyes and the thrumming of his heart against his chest.

Fear engulfs his conscience, tears at his guts, churning his stomach in tense cramps and shoving away all other thoughts.

He's in a small room, he can't exactly see how close the walls actually are, but he has a feeling if he could turn around, he'll brush up against it. There was something in his mouth but luckily he was able to spit it out. Cold air is now flowing in his chest freely which allows him to relax for a moment.

The smell is dank... it reminds him of musty dungeons or freshly wet buildings. Confused, he tries to remember how he ended up in this dire predicament. He was at the club, talking to his friends and acquaintances, he took one of the girls upstairs with him, they had a few drinks and he remembers having sex...

Is this some kind of a sick joke?

Somewhere from the depths of his soul, deadly fear starts to creep and pop on the surface. His breathing quickens as there's not much air to breathe. A cold sweat beads on his skin, the low temperature immediately chilling it and his body starts to shake. He lets out a strangled cry, not recognizing his own voice. It sounds muffled, like in a vacuum. Paralyzing fear spreads though his body like icy liquid metal. He bites down hard on his lower lip, not even realizing it till he can taste his own blood.

Someone must come for him soon, he's certain they will, it's the only thing he can think about since he woke up in this unknown place. He tries to calm himself so he can start trying to figure this out. He was at the club. He managed to negotiate some deals. Tyler! What did he say?

"You can't keep doing this. Do you realize how messed up you are? You need them, you need your friends..."

"I don't have any," he refused to listen, grabbing the almost empty bottle of a fine bourbon. Tyler was not having it. "Stop it, you need to collect yourself and get rid of everyone who's trying to take advantage."

Not wanting to get into it with Tyler, he grabbed the girl's wrist and dragged her up the stairs and into his bed.

It could have been hours or even days ago, he simply doesn't know. His hands shake as he tries to reach the ropes to escape. He's not supposed to die here. He can't die here. They wouldn't let him die, would they? Dread creeps down his spine like a spider weaving its web.

Whoever it is, they wouldn't dare. Do they have any idea who he is?

He thinks about it again. He'd been at the club. Tyler was there. She was there that night too... And then his swirling mind focuses on the last thought. She was there.

You fucking bitch! This must be her work. He starts screaming so loudly that he barely recognizes the sounds escaping his own mouth. As soon as he gets his hands on her, she's dead. She's fucking dead.

It doesn't take that long and he's silent again. He's short of breath and yet he can't inhale because he's bound so tightly. It's just an illusion, right? Because the alternative is too scary.

And that's when it dawns on him. No one is coming.

He breathes in and out but air won't enter his lungs. Starved for it, his heart races like a tremendous machine.

He's being murdered.

It's his last conscious thought ever...

I hope you like the prologue. This and chapter 2 pretty much set up what's to come. I will try to post chapter 2, hopefully on Wednesday. Thank you so very much for all of the support you give to Eva and I. You are all the best.

Thank you Eva for everything. I love you dearly.

Special thanks to my dear friend, Florencia7 for the beautiful cover image. Special thanks to Charlotte, Bonnie, Vidhi and Alaze for helping me out last week. My dear friend 'Short on words' started to repost her wonderful story, "Scars Beneath the Surface".

Chapter title: 'I Love the Dead' by Alice Cooper.

"November Rain" continues.

I hope you all have a fabulous day and a wonderful week ahead.