The|Rapist Ch. 01

How I arrived here doesn't matter. I ran away, you kidnapped me, I willingly moved in to your isolated house in the wilderness... The point is that I'm here now.

Somehow I ended up in the basement. Naked, chained to the floor, blindfolded... you know, the whole nine yards. I don't know for how long. There were no windows and the walls were soundproofed, the long periods of complete sensory deprivation would have been maddening on their own. When you came in the room to bring me food, drink and rape, I was looking forward to it, just to break the silence. My hunger pains were the only real way that I could keep track of how long it had been since you last visited. I tried counting at first, but... there were some complications...

Sometimes you'd make me take pills before I ate, sometimes I'd have to put something under my tongue; the scariest was when you'd inject me with something. I never knew what to expect. Things start getting fuzzy here. You'd give me acid and turn off any lights, and then you'd start raping me. The psychological torment was beyond description. It wasn't enough to leave me to the monsters in my mind. You made me confess to every dark corner with honeyed smiles, then pulled away the floor to reveal the screams and teeth.

I'm guessing that sometimes it was E, and I'm embarrassed to admit that it felt incredible. I don't know if you tried to be extra soft and sweet just to fuck with me more, but the intensity of my pleasure left me begging. You rotated the drugs constantly; I never knew if it was cocaine, fentanyl, or dried up cum and Pixie Stix with a dash of PCP. If the sensory deprivation wasn't enough to break my mind, swinging between such highs and lows, every nerve ending was shocked. Sometimes you'd play weird music through the speakers. Sometimes children's songs. Sometimes horrifying death metal.

So you'll forgive me if I lost track of time a bit. It was a confusing time. It could have been 1 week, it could have been one year. All I know was that rape = relief. I don't know what I'd be experiencing, but it was better than the dark void that I existed in between visits.

One day you came in the room and took my blindfold off and turned on the lights. I immediately squeezed my eyes shut.

"Anna? What are you doing down here? I've been looking for you everywhere!"

I felt a shockwave ripple through my brain. My jaw dropped and I pointed to the chain that had been holding me there, and there was nothing, no rope, no locks...

"When did...?" I was mumbling.

"Sweetie? Are you OK? You look scared. Here, come upstairs and let's get you showered and dressed, I'll make you dinner. Ok?"

I let him take my hand and gently guide me up the aisle of a stairway, my dirty bed sheet wrapped around me like a gown. It took all of my strength to not pass out. My senses were being assaulted with long forgotten colors and sounds and smells, and I was cowering from the attack.

He scooped me up, I was so light and he was so safe. He was so strong, and I had only experienced the damage that his strength had brought. But as I felt my body melt into him, the only thing that mattered was how safe he felt. He carried me into the bedroom and laid me down so carefully; his broken porcelain doll.

"I should have recognized that you had relapsed sooner."

He spoke with a kindness in his voice that I had never registered. He was laying on his side, next to me, leaning on one elbow while the other hand stroked my hair.

"R- Re- Relapsed?"

I barely recognized the sound of my voice when I wasn't screaming.

"It's ok baby, we'll talk about it later. Whenever you're ready. I'm here for you, ok?"

He reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a bottle of pills. I recoiled and pulled myself into an even tighter ball.

"It's just Klonapin! Look! Here! The doctors said that it will help with the withdrawal symptoms! You must be feeling so dizzy and disoriented, paranoid.... scared...."

He opened my clenched fist and put the pill bottle against my palm, and then wrapped my fingers back around it. Clonazepam. 10mg. Take 3 pills as needed, up to 3 times daily. It had my name on the bottle. But... I had never had a prescription for Klonapin.

"How----?"

"I'll open the bottle for you. Do you want me to take them out for you? Here. There's water on your nightstand."

My nightstand. Mine? I stared at the 3 tiny pills, and then the water bottle. Fresh bottled water.

"They're just going to let you relax and settle down, help with the panic, let you sleep. Don't worry about me, I'll be right down the hall. You take them when you're ready, ok? I'll check on you in a little while."

He kissed my forehead.

"I love you Anna, we're going to get through this."

He left me with the pills, with the water, with a room full of stuff. I could find a weapon. I could fight back. I could get out of here. I just.... have to get my strength back.

Fuck it. I swallowed the pills and drank the entire bottle of the best water I've ever tasted. I let my brain slow down. I fought back sleep, afraid that I'd wake up in the basement again. That maybe *this* was the dream. The pills eventually won, and I faded into nmf...g.gggue

I woke up to the smell of pancakes... and... strawberries? I was warm; weightless; drifting in a world of plush and pillows. It was...incredible. I must have laid awake like that for at least an hour with my eyes squeezed shut. If this was a dream, I wanted to hold on to it, make myself a little safe space to go back to when I needed to retreat. I heard the door click open quietly, and footsteps approach. I kept my eyes shut and held my breath. The smell of... was that coffee? The sound of something heavy being set down behind me. A gentle voice.

"You're so cute when you're pretending to sleep, baby. Snuggle under the covers as long as you want to. Coffee's on your right."

As I felt his breath drawing near, I prepared to flinch. Instead, his lips pressed into my forehead, and the shiver never came.

"Let me know when you want to go downstairs. We'll walk together."

I could hear his smile as he added,

"Can't wait to see how close you get to the chocolate chip total this time."

I didn't dare move one inch. I didn't acknowledge that I was awake. I just stayed frozen, wishing myself invisible. Footsteps leaving the room, the door clicking shut softly, as if someone was making an effort to not disturb me. I counted to 10 and then let out the breath that I had been holding. The coffee smelled amazing, and my stomach was grumbling; My stomach was always grumbling, sometimes days would pass by without me being fed, but the smell of fresh breakfast waiting for me made me feel like a kid sleeping in on Saturday morning. I squinted one eye open and examined the room. The same as where I fell asleep. Clean, cozy, fluffy blankets. I opened my eyes all the way and let the room sink in. It felt so... normal. I rolled over to face "my" nightstand, and there was a steaming coffee cup, babygirl blue with my name painted on, emblazoned with cheerful flowers. Did I recognize this cup? It must be mine... it was my favorite color... my name... he couldn't have known that. But I don't remember ever seeing it before.

I sat up and took a sip. It was perfect! I don't remember the last time that I had coffee. I wrapped my free arm around myself while I drank, and noticed that I was wearing an oversized grey T-shirt. I put the coffee down and checked my legs - soft flannel sleeping pants. Everything was clean, and soft. So was my skin! I'd been smelling not strawberries, but my freshly washed hair. When....? I felt dizzy-- unable to process this. I tucked away this missing puzzle piece. It made me feel scared and wrong and I didn't want to feel like that. If this was a trick, then so be it. It was a trick that smelled like strawberries and coffee and pancakes and soft cottons. Even if it was just for a moment, I would hold on to this day and let it give me strength if I woke up from this dream. And with that settled, I slid off the bed, picked up "my" coffee cup, and opened the bedroom door.

I sat at the table, trying not to make a sound, keeping my eyes down, low-key hovering over my plate protectively, like a starved animal. The pancakes were so delicious that I may very well have attempted to growl at and bite anyone that tried to take them away.

"Slow down babygirl, there's always more where those came from!"

He wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed my head on his way to deliver me a glass of orange juice, and then sat across from me. He had this unsettling confidence about him, his casual touches were so inconsequential that I didn't even have time to react before he had moved on. He looked charmingly comfortable, loose pajama pants and holding his cereal bowl to his mouth to finish it off. It felt like a cozy Saturday late morning. What time was it anyway? I scanned the room for a window to look out of but there --

"Guess what? I took the whole week off so I can keep you company and just take care of you. I know how much you hate being home alone here."

I studied his face, scanning for hints of deception, but only finding boyish excitement.

"I just was so worried about you, and if I went to work, I'd just be thinking about you here."

He was walking to the couch in the living room, flopping down and grabbing the remote. He patted his lap and made a hand motion indicating that I should join him.

"Besides -- we haven't watched *any* episodes of this season of Righteous Gemstones, and we've got to get caught up. I can't wait to see what happens!"

The Righteous who? He patted his lap again. I jumped up and moved to the couch without ever consciously deciding to. Not obeying him immediately always ended in far more pain than it was worth, and I always ended up doing whatever it was that he wanted anyway.

I had never heard him ask before, however.

He pulled me into a snuggle and started the first episode, and my body began to relax into his. We watched the first two episodes of the new season with his occasional commentary, and.... I was entertained, but-- I had never seen this show before in my life.

"So who do you think killed those people in the cabin??"

"I-- I don't know..."

"No theories? C'mon... you always figure these things out before me."

"I... um... I am just.... I don't remember watching Season 1?"

"What? Really? You seemed to be really enjoying it when you were watching last season. You don't remember anything?"

His eyebrows furrowed, seeming genuinely concerned. My brain was screaming not to trust him, not to get comfortable, not to let my guard down, it was a trap. But my walls had already crumbled, and my heart came pouring out of my mouth.

"I have just been really confused... I have all these memories... and they feel so real... and.... I don't remember living here, and I don't remember watching TV with you, and I don't remember having mugs with my name on them, or strawberry shampoo, or Klonapin prescriptions, or...."

I was openly sobbing now, and he pulled me tight to his chest and pet my hair, and, it just...

"It just doesn't make sense! You've been so nice to me and so wonderful and kind and thoughtful... but in my memories.... every time I close my eyes... I just am back in that basement, drugged up, terrified of--"

"I'm so sorry baby, I'm so sorry that happened to you. Your father is a fucking asshole. I would do anything to--"

"--My father?"

He cupped my chin and tilted my head up, examining my face, confused.

"Your.... father, Anna. That's what all those memories are of. Your father had been terrorizing you for years. I'm so proud of you getting out of there. Wait-- you remember the assaults, but not that it was your father? Who did you think was--? Oh... you-- you think it was me???"

I pulled myself back and examined his face, my mind racing to compare it to my memories. His face, his body.... it was seared into my mind. I could never forget it. For the first few weeks I would be on my back getting raped, going limp, and I would just stare up at him, making sure that I was committing every detail on his face to memory for when I was able to escape. It was him! It had to be him!

"My-- my father loved me!! It was here!! It was in this house, this basement, it was you!! I know it was! My dad would never!"

I didn't even sound convincing to my own mind. And he just looked so caring, so worried about me. He stammered for a moment before reaching out to me, scooping me into safety. Rocking me in his arms, soothing words coming out of his mouth about how much he loved me, and how he was so sorry this was happening to me.

I let him save me. His arms felt so familiar, they fit around me so perfectly and he just laid there with me until my sobs began to slow. And then I was just quiet, snuggling with my monster, exhausted, staring ahead at the blank TV screen. He was saying things, almost as if to himself, just softly talking to me in between kisses to my head. He made a funny sound, a slight chuckle, like he had just remembered something amusing. I looked up at his face, curious.

"You know... the crazy thing is... you keep talking about the basement... we don't even have a basement, Anna."