The Element of Fear

He was pleased with himself and the way the evening shaped up for him. She still looked a bit uneasy, but for the most part, the alcohol seemed to have scattered her misgivings. Darlene told him about how she had thrown Carol off their trail, which amused and satisfied him far beyond her comprehension. She really did live close by, so they arrived at her place quickly.

She swaggered a bit to both sides when trying to get her keys out of her purse and Ron calmly touched her hips to support her. He could feel her arousal and his own. It was a large house with a massive staircase and no elevator as she apologetically remarked.

"Nah, don't worry about it … I am in good shape. You have to be … as a hunter."

"Hunter … yes … I knew it was you … the similarities …"

"What do you mean? My name means hunter, have you forgotten it?"

She looked embarrassed now.

"Sorry, yes … I was thinking about something else."

He smiled at her and looked straight into her eyes.

"Well, who knows … maybe you weren't that far off with your guess … which reminds me … shit, I have forgotten something in the car. Can you give me your key, so that I can get back inside?"

"Oh, you could simply put the wedge in that is lying next to the entrance door – my flat is two more flights up, I'll wait for you up there …"

"Ok."

He ran down the stairs, and found the wedge at the place she had indicated. As calm as he had been before and surely looked like at the outside, the excitement now started to take hold of him. He quickly pulled the rucksack from the back seat, when a fierce blow to his head made him lose his balance. He managed to have a glimpse at the attacker, a tall, brutish looking figure, before his legs refused to support him and he lost consciousness when his head hit the car on his way down.

***

She could hear his footsteps echoing in the staircase, then she heard the door downstairs open. After that, it was quiet.

It took Darlene a few moments to unlock the door of her apartment: Somehow the key wasn't cooperating, and the lock seemed to be moving around. Once the door was open, she just left the key in it, and remained standing in the half opened door, to wait. She had to hold on to the doorframe a bit. Only now that she was alone, she realized how drunk she was.

'A glass of water might be a good idea,' she thought, but somehow she couldn't build up the resolve to enter the apartment and get one.

'How long does it take to get something out of the stupid car?' she wondered, while staring at the dark window halfway down the stairs.

Then the light went off. Darlene had never been particularly fond of darkness, but the switch was flickering orange not far from her. Carefully, since the dizziness she felt had grown in the last minute, she took a step towards it, reached out, and …

… She felt someone grabbing her from behind and pulling her away from the light switch. Before she could scream, a hand was pressed over her mouth, an arm was put around her neck. Darlene's heart was beating wildly, as she felt a body press into hers. Then, there was breath at her ear and she heard a hoarse voice whisper "Don't forget the element of fear."

Ron? Was it him, after all? It wasn't just fear any more, that let her heart beat.

But why hadn't he said anything? What, if he … 'He's a friend of Carol and Roger,' Darlene reminded herself. And besides, he had told her he was a cop, he had told her so himself. Darlene decided to trust him, and when at the next moment his hand let go of her mouth, she didn't scream, she just whispered:

"Ron? Wow! I should have known … Why didn't you tell me?"

He didn't reply, though, but instead pushed her into the dark apartment. Some light was coming in through the windows, and she wanted to turn around to him, see him. Before she could, though, he put something over her eyes, something that blocked out all light and left her in darkness. Then, the sound of the door closing and the light being turned on.

He still wasn't saying a word, but she could tell that he was standing right next to her, she felt his presence. For a few moments both of them remained motionless. Then his hands were there again, taking off her winter coat, then her sweater; her shirt. His movements were quick while he did so, rough in a way, yet careful not to hurt her.

When she felt his hands at her trousers, she tried to move away – more to see his reaction than to really escape. Before she could realize what was happening, he had grabbed her wrists – this time it hurt a bit – turned her around, and was again pressing her body against his. When one of his hands returned to her trousers, she kept still. A moment later, he let go of her, and she stood in front of him only in her underwear. She had turned down the heating before leaving to the party, and the cool air in her apartment made her shiver.

He took hold of her wrists again and led her to her bed, pushed her down onto the mattress. The next moment he was above her. The heat of his body helped against the cold, but she was still shivering.

He pulled her hands above her head, and she could feel a coarse rope being slung around her left wrist, cutting into her skin a bit. He secured the rope somewhere, on the bed frame she assumed, then proceeded to do the same with her right arm. After that he moved away from her, and the cold air swept over her again. Darlene tried the move her arms just a little bit, to feel the resistance of the rope. She couldn't move her hands.

"Ron?" Somehow Darlene felt she needed to hear his voice, needed for him to assure her that it was really him, and that he would stop if she wanted him to.

However, he didn't reply, and the fear this caused her did only make her arousal grow.

He was there again, undressed now, and she felt his mouth on her breast. His teeth caught her nipple; she drew her breath in through her teeth with a sharp whistling noise when he bit her. His hands were exploring her body carefully at first, but soon his grip became rougher. Darlene wondered if she wasn't getting bruises, if it was this she had wanted, if she should ask him to stop.

He lay on top of her, and started pushing her legs apart, when another thought appeared in her mind.

"Ron …," she said, trying to focus on a clear thought through the fog of alcohol, arousal, and also a slight fear, "I know this might be a slight dampener on the atmosphere, but …" a moan interrupted her words as he bit her again, this time in the neck. He seemed to not even hear her words. "Ron, we do still need to use a condom," she said quickly, "There are some in the drawer by … "

He didn't react, and she felt him moving his hand to his cock, to guide it to her entrance. Quickly, Darlene tried to turn away, calling out his name again. It came out more fearful this time. And just as quickly he had grabbed her legs, she felt his fingernails cutting into her skin, while he held her in place.

"Ron, wait!"

Why wasn't he reacting? Don't forget the element of fear. The words formed in her mind. Right, they had a safe word, she needed to use it.

"Fear."

It felt awkward to pronounce the word, it seemed out of place somehow, as she almost whispered it. Then, she found some more courage, and spoke louder.

"Fear!"

He still didn't react. She could feel the head of his prick pushing into her.

"Ron!" there was panic in her voice now, "What's going on? Ron!"

The blindfold was removed from her eyes suddenly, the bright light of the lamp above her blinded her for a moment. Then she saw the face somewhere above her, an ugly face covered with acne scars and beard stubbles, with watery blue eyes that bore a cruel look, and very short hair that started growing almost immediately above the thick eyebrows. This was about as far from Ron as anyone could be.

She couldn't even scream, or try to push him off her. She could just stare at him with eyes full of terror and disbelief, as he said with what seemed to be meant as the caricature of a smile:

"Sorry, I'm not Ron. Eric's my name, pleased to meet you."

Then he entered her with one forceful thrust, and without leaving her any time to get used to the invasion, started pumping into her. The force with which he was shoving into her, the feeling of him almost tearing her apart awoke Darlene from her trance. She started screaming, kicking with her legs; trying to push him off her.

The strange guy leaned his body closer over hers, his weight almost crushing her, and again he felt his breath at her ear, heard his hoarse voice whisper, "No chance. You just get what you wanted."

Her cries became a helpless sobbing, she felt tears running down her cheek, as he grinded his body more slowly against hers, his cock buried deep inside her. Then he took up pace again and his breath got quicker. Soon it would be over, would she be free then? Darlene closed her eyes, she just wanted him to stop.

He started to utter short moans, and she could feel the first spurt of his seed inside her – when suddenly the weight from his was body gone, and she felt some of his semen land on her.

Opening her eyes, she saw the strange guy's body being thrown against the wall by something – someone, away from her. Someone she knew. Ron.

***

'Wet. Why is my face wet? That is … blood. Head-wound.'

The accompanying pain spoke volumes. Only very gradually Ron returned to consciousness. His car; he was lying in the back of his car. Someone had struck him down. His hand mechanically searched for his gun in its holster. Gone. Whoever struck him down was even more dangerous now. Ron sighed when he noticed the briefcase. A quick look inside reassured him that he wasn't quite as unarmed as the other guy might think. All his instincts told him that this had to do with her, that somehow someone came right in the midst of their game. A quick check of his pockets revealed that he even left him his car keys. Bloody amateur. Ron opened the door and got out of the car.

He felt a bit dizzy, but it wasn't any major impediment. His head had suffered harder in these past weeks. The wooden wedge still kept the front door ajar. If his attacker really wanted to take advantage of that situation, that was very short-sighted. Ron stormed up the stairs, until he reached the floor where her flat was supposed to be. He noticed immediately that there were keys in the lock on the apartment door on the left. He pressed his ear against the door, but only a low moaning or murmuring was audible. He cautiously entered the flat.

His guess was right. Someone else had helped himself to his prey. Big mistake. And from the familiar look of his back, not only to that, but to his other belongings when intruding into his home. In any case, time to settle this little matter of ownership. Ron took a small end of rope out of the briefcase and approached the stranger who was too engrossed in his experience to notice him. Ron made a point by breathing into his neck twice before slinging the rope around it. With all strength he could muster he pulled as hard as he could and used his entire body to support this move. The brutish fellow had a very muscular neck, maybe he was a rugby player after all, most others would have snapped under this force, but Ron established enough momentum to smash the guy head first into the next wall. The man collapsed and sank to the floor.

Ron went over to Darlene to reassure her.

"Bear with me, my love. I will be with you in a jiffy. Let me first take care of our uninvited guest."

He returned to the man who was in the process of regaining consciousness. The rope was still around Eric's neck. Ron grabbed both ends and started pulling. Eric's eyes opened and protruded already from the onset of the struggle for breath and life.

"Well, well, well. What have we here? Poaching in my territory? Sniffing around my hard drive I suppose? Big mistake."

Eric's mouth was wide open, but apart from a stifled gargling sound nothing escaped his lips.

"I am so glad you joined our little party. Hope you don't mind when I cut our quality time together here short, do you?"

Eric was in no position to answer. His whole body thrashed and convulsed in the last death throes. Then it went limp. Darlene, who had observed the scene first with relief, then with mounting anxiety let out a shriek when she realised what she had just witnessed.

"Ron … you … you killed him."

"Hunters kill. And he deserved it. Oh my dearest. What has he done to you?"

Ron came over to her and sat down next to her head. He smiled reassuringly, then kissed her on the forehead.

"He cannot hurt you now any more. It's just you and me. And a present of utter sweetness that I brought for you … Happy Valentine."

A dreamy, melancholic expression appeared on his face.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:"

***

Darlene's relief was slowly replaced by renewed panic. She had believed herself finally free, and even Ron's brutality towards the rapist didn't shake that belief – after all she had felt quite an urge to revenge herself in a similar way. Now, all she wanted was to get the necessary call to the police and all that involved behind her, and then take a long shower. And be by herself so she could cry all she wanted.

"What are you doing?" she interrupted Ron, trying to not let him hear how much his behaviour unsettled her, "Hurry up, untie me, please."

Ron's face distorted into a mask of mock indignation.

"Now my sweet prey really disappoints me … I took you for a cultured person, a lady who might appreciate the fineries of life with me … like good literature. And so much more …"

For a moment the room seemed to disappear in front of her eyes. Did he really just say that? Was she awake? This couldn't be, not after all she had already gone through. It took Darlene a few moments to gather the strength to speak again.

"But Ron, what do you mean? How …"

She felt tears welling up in her eyes, one was running down her cheek, it felt strangely hot on her face. Too real for a bad dream.

"Why are you crying my little prey?" his melodious voice was dripping with cynicism, "You are all the same, confused about what you want and scared when you are going to get it. But I will help you remember …"

His hands stroked her wet face, he picked up a tear with his finger and licked the drop of its tip.

Darlene tried to turn her face away from him. She could still see the same features that had attracted her so much at the party, but it seemed like a different life. All she felt now, looking at him, was fear. She was scared of him to touch her, even if it was just his fingers touching her face.

He gently turned her face back into his direction and placed a piece of chocolate on her lips. His eyes gazed at her with the same dreamy melancholy that almost had a quality of innocence.

"Don't worry my little prey. After the ordeal with that … amateur, you deserve to be treated to the most delicate sweetness - for that is what you are to me."

Realization dawned on her face, it made her almost feel a bit more secure – not safer, but at least she believed to know what was happening, what she was facing, and the words just blurted out of her mouth before she could stop them:

"You are crazy. You are absolutely mad. Let me go now, and I promise I won't ever tell anyone."

"Oh you won't. And crazy … mad? Because I give you what you want? Because I'm going out of my way to make this Valentine's Day special for you? Open up … let the sweetness return to our little tête-à-tête."

Ron's fingers pressed hard on her jaw and forced it open.

She wasn't expecting him to do that, and opened her mouth almost without resistance. The sweet taste of the chocolate overwhelmed her for a moment. It didn't seem to fit with the moment, with her fear, it tasted too real. She tried to concentrate on the sweet taste, forget all around her, but the painful presence of his fingers on her jaw made her return to reality.

His eyes beamed with an odd glee as he made her chew on the piece.

"That's it, my sweet little prey. Now, don't swallow … open up again … we will need this to anoint you."

Before she could protest he forced her mouth open again and dipped two fingers in the creamy melange of nougat and saliva. His eyes feasted on her expression of terror and disbelief. Ron's hand moved swiftly between her legs to smear the brownish substance on her mound.

"For this part of our journey, you will have to forgo the accompanying bliss of words from the great poet …," he snickered.

With these words he climbed onto the bed and settled between her legs. She tried to wriggle away and close her legs, but his merciless hands would not allow it, as they dug deep into the flesh of her thighs to force them apart. He made exaggerated sounds of delight as his tongue slowly traversed up and down her labia.

Darlene calmed down a bit, she stopped trying to move away. Whatever he was planning to do, so far he hadn't hurt her, and the touch of his tongue awoke feelings deep inside her that made her fear retreat into the background, at least for a few moments.

Ron's tongue trailed up and down lapping up the sticky substance to the last remnant.

"Sweet, so sweet …," he muttered and continued to lick her for a short while longer.

He toyed with her clitoris, but then suddenly commenced a kissing trail up to her belly button, where his tongue darted in and lingered for a few seconds. He watched her attentively when he reached her breasts and calmly started to nibble on each of her nipples.

A slight shivering went through Darlene's body, she saw him looking up at her, the same dark eyes that had fascinated her so much. And yet, she remembered, she didn't want him to touch her, she wanted to get away from him, from all that had happened before. Her body seemed to think differently from her, it liked the attention he spent to her breasts. At the last moment she could repress a moan that wanted to escape her mouth.

She gazed at him, still not able to comprehend what was happening to her. Her mouth was slightly open but no protest escaped her lips. He moved even further upward, attempting to kiss her, but she managed to rip herself out of her suspended animation and averted her face.

Smack!

It took a few seconds before the pain registered in her brain: A blow into her face had made her head hurtle back on the pillow, everything had gone first white, then black in front of her eyes. When she opened them again, it took a few seconds for her to focus. His face was right above hers, his hand that had hit her, still hovering in the air above her. The echo of a scream lingered in the room: Her own scream, followed by an almost unbearable silence.

Ron placed a finger on his lips and seemed to listen into the silence. Without ever taking his eyes off her, he slid down her body. He pressed his erection against her pubic bone, then slowly drew his pelvis back making her feel where he was heading. Just before the tip of his penis reached her labia, he pulled back the foreskin. The head was slick with pre-cum. He slowly rubbed it up and down her labia, then poised it right at her entrance.

"Th'expense of spirit in a waste of shame.

Is lust in action, and till action, lust"

The last word was drowned by her second scream, as he entered her with a single thrust.

His voice gained dramatic momentum when resuming his recitation, violently lunging into her as an emphasis for each word.