Page 9 of Hysteria Rises
The release of a wretched,jagged cry from my parched throat is accompanied by a series of gasps for air. Somewhere in the recesses of my semiconscious mind, I know something is very wrong, but the struggle to wade through the thick sludge clogging my pounding head seems an unbeatable foe.
But the unmistakable sensation of a finger probing my vagina, has my eyelids beginning to flutter and fighting to open.No. On instinct, my thighs snap together—or try to close, anyway, but there’s something stopping that from happening.
A breath heaves from me, and I jerk, clawing my way toward awareness as my eyes fly open only to connect with an intense hazel stare—a burst of blue-green and gold with an inner ring of deep, unsettling brown. They’re what I would assume looking at a solar eclipse is like. They belong to a man—one who has no right to be between my legs. He’s got a hand on mybare stomach, and my gaze casts upward all along a full sleeve of intricate tattoo work, across his chest, and back down the other arm, also decorated from the elbow down to his wrist, then to his fingers which remain deep inside my body. I open my mouth to scream at him to get his hands off me, but all that escapes is a tortured croak.
My heart thumps hard as the reality of the sick situation I’ve found myself in floods through me. I’m lying before a man I’ve never seen before, completely naked. My mind stutters like an engine that doesn’t want to turn over. Is it playing tricks on me? This twisted scenario has all the hallmarks of one of the horror flicks I’m addicted to watching. The sort in which the female lead wakes up and has no idea where she is, nor any recollection of how she got there… only that she’s been abducted. And shit gets real, fast, when she understands she’s at someone else’s mercy.
I’m in the same miserable, desolate position as the heroine of the movie: completely at some sicko’s mercy. Every angle I examine this situation from, I find myself in deep fucking shit. With that terrifying thought, I begin to tremble. Weak and dazed, I attempt to bring my arms around my torso, not comprehending why moving is difficult.
How did I come to be in this room, on this table? The last thing I remember is fear. From the minute I ducked off the road, everything has gone terribly wrong. A series of mental images flashes before my eyes, some of which make absolutely no senseat all. My brow furrows and my gaze darts around, landing on a tray of medical supplies on a cart at my side.
Holy shit. Lie still, Delilah. Act like you’ve passed out again. Or died. If only it were that easy. But I try, letting my lashes flutter as my eyelids close, and I play dead. Fuck. I will my body to relax, knowing that if I don’t calm the shaking of my limbs, of my lower lip, of every part of me, he’ll figure out I’m pretending.
Cautiously, and ever so slowly, I take stock of everything, peering through thin slits. I can hardly make out what lies beyond the circle of bright light that is cast downward on me from above. But from what I can tell, it’s a spacious area, high ceilings, cabinets lining the wall to my right. Full bookshelves along the wall to the left. And the guy between my thighs, he’s still there. Still has his fingers inside me. Like this is no big deal. I swallow slowly, barely moving the muscles of my throat.
My inspection of the room continues as I search for an escape route. My heart rate ratchets higher. Panic descends. I can’t find a door. Maybe it’s behind me. How am I going to get out of here? And even if I do… where ishere? My ears prick, picking up on thunder rumbling through the sky. And where would I go? Back out into the storm? Into the forest?
My eyes halt on the man between my thighs, and I flinch with a sudden intake of breath.
“Awake, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his voice raspy and low. It makes my skin crawl. The muscle at the back of his jaw twitches at the same time a shiver racksmy body. My lip quivers as my gaze darts around the room, finally landing squarely on the creep between my legs again.
Fear consumes my every thought. What kind of hole into hell had I fallen down out there in the dark? My chest jerks. Did I run from those masked freaks only to stumble upon something worse?
But what could be more awful than the misery my life has been up until now, anyway?
I begin to struggle in earnest, yanking frantically with my arms and legs. But my efforts are futile… I’m shackled. “Let me go!” I thrash, firmly anchored to the table beneath me—and with each passing second, I become more like the wild animal that finds itself in the clutches of a predator.
In hopes that the ruckus I’m raising will signal to someone—anyone—that I need help, I flail and scream until my throat is raw from my efforts. With every second that passes, it’s clear that not a single soul is coming to my rescue, so I fervently wish for my angry cries to bring the walls of this place down around us.
No. I won’t be taken out like this. My apparent abductor stares at me with curious multicolored eyes. They remind me of a firecracker bursting in the night sky. Under normal circumstances, I’d think they were beautiful. But that observation is fleeting.Leave me alone.As if he heard my thoughts, he pulls the hand away that’d been branding my stomach with his touch. My hopes that he’s almost done with me are dashed. Not only does he not remove his fingers from insidemy body but his hand slides slowly from my knee to my ankle.
“Stop touching me!” A sob rips from my throat to accompany my distressed shout, and tears well in my eyes before they cascade down my cheeks. With a wild swing of my leg, my foot connects with his jaw, the sharp crack bouncing off the walls like gunfire.
The sudden emptiness when he yanks his fingers from inside me is a relief, but it only lasts a moment because the entire exchange between us causes the atmosphere in the room to change. There’s no denying the perturbed look in his eye. His head cocks to the side as he slowly brings his hand to the spot where I kicked him. Trembling, I follow his movements as he rubs a few fingers along his jawline, then suddenly stops. He’s still. Unmoving. Drawing in one deep, careful breath after another.
I have no idea what’s going on. His voice is pure gravel as he murmurs, “That wasn’t very nice. Butthisis.” I shudder at the unsettling look in his eye. He brings his fingers closer to his nose and inhales. One side of his mouth lifts into a mocking half smile, and those mysterious eyes lock with mine as he places two of his fingers—the same ones that were inside my pussy—into his mouth. The expression on his face as he sucks on them is devilish, his tongue swirling.
I’m strangely captivated. My lips part, unsure what he’ll do next. The longer this goes on and the more he seems to enjoy it, the more I tremble. The more my hopes sink.
“There’s something wrong with you,” I barely manage, my voice merely a harsh whisper. And then, I kick out again.
He dodges this time, but the shock on his face is priceless. Huffing out a laugh, he shakes his head but says nothing.
I press my lips together, scowling at him. As his eyes trail away from mine and off over my shoulder, I realize I’ve made a mistake. A second guy comes into view at my side, and I forget to breathe. I startle as he speaks, his voice hard. “That’s my son you’re talking to like that, bitch.” He pauses to chuckle, low and dangerous. “We’ll see later whether or not you feel that outburst was worth it.”
A shiver works its way through my limbs, goose bumps rising because in my peripheral vision, I see what’s in his hand. A needle.
I hadn’t even realized there was more than one person in the room with me. Horror reverberates through every cell of my body. The father of the man who has had his hands all over me watched the whole thing. He did nothing to stop him. And for all I know, while I wasn’t aware, he may have had his hands on me, too. What kind of sickness swirls inside their brains?
I study him, my lip trembling, if only so that I can accurately describe him when I find a way out of this insanity. His hair is mostly dark with gray at the temples, but his beard is near white. Piercing eyes of a darker hue than his son’s train on my face. He shakeshis head grimly while observing me in a way that makes it clear I’ll regret lashing out. “You’ll stop before we’re forced to take other measures. I guarantee you won’t like the consequences of stepping out of line.”
There’s something about the way he’s looking at me that makes revulsion slide down my spine. Little does he know I won’t ever stop—not when it comes to protecting myself. His words only make me want to fight harder. Unwilling to bend to anyone’s will, much less this psycho’s, I draw in a deep, gulping breath before I demand, “Take these cuffs the fuck off me! What is this place? What is wrong with you people? Where the fuck am I?” On the other side of the room, I finally spot the large door, and suck in a breath before shouting some more. “Help me! Somebody help me! Please!”
Like some miracle, there’s a loud bang from somewhere outside the room. My eyes widen.Oh my god. Please.“I’m in here! Help!”
Ignoring me, Hazel Eyes gestures in the direction of the noise. “Want me to find out who it is?”
His father huffs, jerking his head in a single movement in the affirmative. “Get rid of them.” His mouth curls up on one side, then takes another step toward me. “You’d do well to listen, girl.” He draws in a deep breath as he swabs my arm carefully with something cold.
