The Way to a Man's Heart

© 2023 PennameWombat

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This is my entry for Literotica's Valentine's Day 2023 Contest. Late, as usual for me, but hopefully not too late.

This story contains scenes and moments of violence and abuse that may be uncomfortable for some readers. That's why it's in Erotic Horror.

*****

She blinked a few times before her eyes settled. Bare trees filled the periphery of her view of a sky with its blue diminished by thin clouds. She moved her eyes in slow circles.

A clearing. She was on her back. In a clearing. In a forest. Or woods. Or whatever.

The motion of her eyes shifted to her neck, as she rolled her head. Trees without leaves. Dead, scraggly grass. A drift of snow to the left, along the trees there. To the right, the same without the snow.

She pressed fingers on both hands against the surface on which she lay. It was soft and wet. And... cold. But not so cold she couldn't push the fingers of her right hand between the dead strands of flattened grass and into the muck.

She wiggled her toes then pressed her heels against the grass. She had the idea the grass under her was a bit thicker than what she'd seen to either side.

Convenient. Well, that was one possible word.

She tensed her abdomen, then relaxed it. The second time she raised her torso to vertical and shook her head as the world spun for a moment and she felt something against her back but ignored that. Ahead and to each side, the limits of the circular clearing were obvious. There were few shadows, the sun low and mostly behind her left shoulder. She wiggled her toes, each nail much bluer than the muted sky.

Nails.

She slid her tongue between teeth that rested lightly above and below it and ran it between her lips as she watched the wiggling blue shapes. She turned her head and her right hand rose from the ground. She spun it. Blue. The same blue.

On nails. Flat, short, nicely trimmed. Nails.

She moved her mouth. Frowned. Nodded.

She opened her mouth and expanded her chest and pulled in air that was cold and dry.

"It is mine now," she said as she let the air flow through her throat.

She pulled air in through her nose. There were subtle smells of grass and trees. Like the sky they were muted. There was one aroma stronger than the others. Odd, out of place here, but all around and even on her. But it wasn't her.

Other than her words, there were no sounds. Not even enough wind to move the bare trees. She forced an 'ahh' sound as she pushed the air out of her lungs. Pulled more in, through her nose, to let it study. Push, pull.

That settled, she scrunched her neck as her gaze ran up her legs. Both bare. A thin, dark strip between them where they met her torso. Her abdomen flat, still tensed to hold her sitting position. Then her breasts and their prominent nipples, dark pink and very erect. She touched, then squeezed the right one.

She was naked.

No. She wasn't. Not totally. She ran her fingers along the curved flesh of her breast and onto her chest and up. To her neck.

She played with her hair. It fell to just below her shoulders. Damp, but soft and not matted. But that wasn't the surprise.

She found something round and fibrous. It was around her throat. It was snug but not tight. She used both hands and followed it. Behind her, she found it knotted, and rotated it.

It was a long... cord... with a portion around her neck, which ran through a tight spiral that ran along the cord. At the top of the spiral one end of the cord ran through a small loop. The other end extended further and there was a red bow tied to it. After a moment, she worked out that she could slide the spiral section against the other.

To tighten or loosen it around her throat. She frowned but after an instant shrugged and left it loose and hanging outside of her left breast.

She used her feet and shifted her buttocks on the grass to spin slightly and twisted her neck. Colors caught her eye. White. Blue. Yellow.

Closest to her were white shoes with the beige soles facing her as they stood upright. Just past them, blue jeans. And then a yellow blouse, its buttons done up. She looked at the dent in the grass. The shoes would've been the width of her hand past her head.

She looked around the clearing again. Sat in silence. Pulled air in.

No movement. No sounds. No smells. Except her.

She bent her knees to put her feet flat. Worked her muscles and at the first attempt was unbalanced and landed on her ass.

"It is mine now."

With focused effort she stood quickly and put both arms straight out as the spinning when she'd sat up was even more intense. She wavered, but after a few moments her head cleared and the world stopped.

She looked at the clothes and took a couple of tentative steps to stand next to them. She bent, but the spinning came again, so she stood then squatted.

That worked.

The jeans were flat with their legs set to end at the shoes before she bent to pick them up by the waistband. She stood and held them out. Something was missing. She shrugged and undid the button and zipper, their state matched the buttons on the blouse and now that she saw them, the tied laces on the shoes. She tested her balance and pulled the jeans on, they were tight but comfortable. She snorted and paused with the zipper half way up. Then she used her fingers to shield the black strip.

Something was definitely missing. But she couldn't work it out.

She moved to the shoes, untied them and pulled them on. Another thought about something missing.

She grabbed the blouse. It was a deep yellow color in a soft, thin cloth, nothing like the jeans. She liked it. She undid the buttons and pulled it on and worked the cord around her neck over it. Buttoned, it was tight across her breasts and she liked its pressure against her nipples. They poked through clearly. She adjusted the cord to again rest against the outside of her left breast.

She looked around the clearing. Where to go? She'd not planned well. In truth, that she was here was enough beyond expectation that further planning had been... she shrugged.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply and slowly and shuffled her feet to spin slowly. After not quite a complete circle, she opened her eyes and smiled.

"That seems to be a trail," she said aloud, "might as well."

Her first dozen strides were wobbly and her pace was slow. Then she quit thinking about it. She sucked in air and held it and let her legs do their job. She walked smoothly toward the trees.

*****

"Hey, Marlene, you there?"

The response came through the speaker on the mobile phone in the man's hand.

"Where else would I be, Ken? This a social call or you doing your job for a change?"

"I dragged him outta the diner, Marlene, so we're at the site."

"Shove off, Ty," Ken said, "I dragged your ass from there."

Laughter came through the speaker. "Blow each other later. You at the site?"

She slowed when she heard the voices. She'd followed what had become a clear trail once she'd made it to the trees. It'd wound a bit and all she'd found were more trees.

Until now. She stepped carefully and hid behind a large tree.

"The report wasn't bullshit," Ty said as Ken held the phone between them, "someone definitely hit the pole."

"Doubt they were speeding, low enough seems musta been a car, not a truck," Ken said as the men shuffled around the bent, wood pole and one broke off a shard of wood and tossed it into some bushes, "it's pretty well snapped. Barely holding together. But fair amount of rot in it, whoever hit it got lucky with that."

She peeked. The two men had orange coverings around their torsos and white hats, no, helmets it seemed, on their heads. A pickup truck with a colorful and stylized 'Lakeside Electric & Gas' on the door was parked near where they worked. One of them picked up two pieces of something, one silver and the other black, from the ground.

"They left behind plenty," Ken said as Ty held up his trophies, "but there's only the one set of skid marks and tracks. My bet they drove off. Car was, uh, silver with a black grill, best guess. Bits of glass, headlight bought it I guess."

She listened closely. Confused thoughts ran through her mind. Silver? Black? A crash?

"Sounds right," Ty added in a tone to carry. He walked quickly to put the detritus in the bed of their pickup truck.

"Huh, rot. Well, that area on tap for inspection in the summer. Might need to pull that ahead, so not goin' that fast then," Marlene said through the speaker, "any sign of injuries?"

"Nothin' obvious," Ken said and both men shrugged, "at least, no bodies and no one left pools of blood. 'Less you count the pole. It's done for."

"Well, I'll give Shirl a call soon as we're off," Marlene said, "let her decide how serious the cops'll take it. As to the pole, really bad?"

"Done for," Ken said, "more wires holdin' it up then the pole holding them. Got a crew? Or need us to come back in and switch equipment?"

"Hmm, no, you two gotta check that generator at the dam, had you check this 'cuz it's not much outta your way," came through the speaker before typing could be heard and more hummed breaths, "ah, yeah. I can redirect Jacobsen. Hold 'till after lunch?"

"If the weather holds. Big wind kicks up, we'll lose it. We can brace it, but that won't hold."

"Storm comin' tomorrow night. Hold, gonna send Jacobsen a message to hit the depot and meet up with Stuart and Janey soon as he finishes on Fifteenth."

Ken set the phone on the hood of the truck as Ty pulled a board as long as he was tall from the bed of the truck. Ken opened a compartment perched along the top of the bed. Ty set the board at an angle against the bent pole. Marlene's distant voice came from the mobile's speaker as she spoke to someone else.

She made her decision. As Ty met Ken at the front of the truck and accepted some tool from him, both men froze.

"Hel... uh... hello," she said in a tentative voice, "can you... uh... help me?"

"Shi...," Ty muttered.

"Oh my god," Ken added.

Both men stared at the woman who'd appeared from the forest. She stopped midway between them and the trees from which she'd emerged. Ken grabbed at the phone and it thudded against the hood before he had it firmly in hand.

"Marlene," he hissed, "we... uh... holy shi..."

"Uh, huh, Ken. Say again. What?"

"We got, uh... woman... a woman."

"What?" A sharp question through the phone. "You shittin' me?"

"Uh, yeah. We... can." Ty said, then he raised his volume. "Are you cold? What's your name?"

"Uh... cold? Um, yeah," she looked down at her body, "kinda."

"Get her in the truck, Ty," Ken said firmly, "get her a blanket."

"Oh... uh, yeah. C'mon, young lady, we've got blankets."

"And give her coffee," Ken said as Ty walked to the side of the truck nearest her and quickly opened the rear door on the crew cab.

"What is going on?" It was the third time Marlene's voice had made the statement and this time it was loud and hard, but controlled. Barely.

Ken watched as the young woman nodded and followed Ty to walk to the truck. Ahead of her, he bent and stood with a blanket he shook out before he stepped back and let her climb into the rear seat. Then he arranged the blanket around her. Ken spoke in a low but forceful tone.

"Call Shirl. Tell the cops to get their asses here fast. Like, ten minutes ago. And an ambulance."

"For what, Ken?"

"That missing brunette. I think it's her. And... she's got a noose around her neck and a hell of a mark on her throat."

"Oh... fu...," Marlene whispered.

"It's just hanging on her. She just walked out of the woods. She's in... bad shape, but she's walking, but seems, like, barely awake. Get the cops and EMTs. We'll keep her warm."

"On the way," Marlene said firmly, "keep this line open."

*****

"Chief?" A young officer knocked at the open door and waited for the face surrounded by dark hair in a bob to look at him. "Task force reps here."

"Thanks, Shep. Take 'em to the conference room and I'll meet 'em there."

"Which conference room, ma'am?" He said as he fought a smile.

"The one on the third floor that doesn't exist," she said as she stood and closed a beige folder on her desk and picked it up, "and get Artie over there."

"He's just parking, was at the hospital," Shep said, "Nancy's taking them to the room."

The two seated figures turned their heads when she entered the room, papers and folders and an open laptop on the table in front of them.

"Chief?" The male figure in a suit which had no particular style to it said as he stood ahead of his companion.

"Got it, Shirley Malden, at your service," she stepped into the room and offered her right hand, "you're Marx?"

"Samuel Marx, State Police, call me Sam," he said, "and this is Rebecca Engels."

"Good to meet you, Chief," Engels said as the two women shook hands.

"Marx and Engels," Malden said, "we're not going to argue the dialectic, are we?"

Both faces took a moment, then Marx chuckled. "Well, if your case gives us a break, might not need to."

A thin man jerked to a stop in the doorway and took a puffed breath. "Sorry to be late, Chief. Took a bit longer at the hospital than planned."

"Not a problem, just got here," Shirley said, "Sam Marx, Rebecca Engels, Arthur Ambrose, my lead detective. Call him Artie."

"Only detective, you mean," Ambrose said as he shook hands with both of the State officers.

Malden led Ambrose to one side of the table and the others returned to their folders and laptop.

"Ah, Shep, thanks," Malden said as the young officer walked into the room and handed her a laptop, "if it's not news from the hospital, tell 'em I'll call back."

"Ma'am, I'll have coffee here in a minute." He pulled the door closed.

"That won't be nec—-," Marx started.

"I need it," Malden said as Ambrose attached a cable to the laptop and opened it up, "I haven't slept since Marlene called me yesterday. Ready, Artie?"

"Yeah, Chief," he tapped a button and a picture appeared on a large screen at the far end of the room. It was a young woman with hair that was almost black, and wearing a snug, yellow blouse and blue jeans. She sat sideways with her legs over the rear seat of a pickup truck's crew cab. Her expression was a soft smile, her posture relaxed.

"Nadine Lewis, junior at the College here. But everyone calls her 'Nadi,' girlfriends who reported her missing say they already had a 'Nadine' in the group, the first one graduated but 'Nadi' stuck. This was when the EMTs first arrived," Ambrose said as he rifled through a little notebook, "the utility guys had put her in their truck and covered her with a blanket and given her coffee. EMTs took this, the Chief had told them to document everything."

"I wouldn't have believed it," Engels said, "but it's right there. The noose. But she looks so... calm."

Ambrose clicked through a series of pictures as the EMTs put her on a stretcher and took vitals. Two police cars arrived and uniformed officers appeared and disappeared. In the third picture, Chief Malden was near the stretcher.

"I saw it," Malden said, "she WAS calm, hell, almost chipper at moments. But as soon as they tried to take that noose off... shit hit the fan. I told them to leave it, worry at the hospital. Certainly save it from going missing."

"Contamination," Marx grumbled.

"And I had a twenty one year old woman who'd apparently gone through thirty three kinds of hell," Malden snapped, "if she wanted to wear the noose, let her wear the noose. Anyway, your lab has it, and samples from everyone who was around her."

Marx exhaled audibly. "How'd you get it off?"

"I'd called her roommate, one of them who'd reported her missing. A Jane Taylor, same age, they're part of a pretty tight bunch. Along with keeping an officer on guard, they're taking shifts with her. But Jane convinced Nadi to let us have it to test. She was kind of freaked out having to do that, but as good as I could hope."

"Family?" Marx asked.

"Orphan, none known, according to the College. Foster system, mostly. She rotates breaks staying mostly with the girlfriends, with one of them's family over Christmas. But about the noose, there's a condition."

Marx and Engels both leaned back at the force of the last words before the former spoke. "Condition?"

"She gets it back. I had to promise, pinkie swear, whatever else. But, do we have proof that this is another victim? We're a hundred miles from the nearest."

Her glare alternated between the two State police officers until they both nodded and looked down.

"Can I have that?" Engels pointed at the cable. Ambrose unhooked it from the laptop and handed it over.

"Come, just leave it," Malden said to a knock at the door. It opened and Shep carried a tray with a carafe and four coffee cups and set it next to her. The Chief gestured at Engels, who nodded and held the cable. The young officer pulled the door closed as he left.

"Milk? Sugar?" Malden said as she looked at the State officers. She poured a mug of black coffee and pushed it toward Ambrose and put a dash of milk in a second and kept that.

"Couple with milk," Marx said as he and his partner shrugged.

"Go," Malden said as she filled the last two mugs to order.

"You said your girl—-," Engels said as she attached the cable to her laptop.

"Nadi. Her name's Nadi," Malden interrupted.

"Ah... so, Nadi," Engels slid a paper in front of her, "said she woke up naked, with the noose and her clothes laid out."

"Like someone was in 'em," Ambrose said, "shoes, jeans, shirt. No underwear."

"Jane and the others we've interviewed," Malden said, "all say Nadi never went braless. Said she was a bit self-conscious about her nipples. Also, she'd been wearing a navy blue coat, that's missing."

"Yeah," Marx said, "nipples rather clear in the EMT pics."

"Anyway, that's consistent," Engels said firmly to forestall Malden's response as she tapped a key and a picture appeared on the screen, "like this."

The photo was side-on, a naked woman's body, with ankle-high black boots on their heels just beyond her head and a sprawl of dark hair. Grey slacks with the legs ending at the boots and a black blouse laid out past them. A cord was around her neck, but no noose was visible.

"Consistent, no bras or panties or socks or coat, noose always under them," Engels said, "and from the initial look at Nadi's that was the same."

"We found the clearing, flattened grass, all fit," Malden said, "we just roped it off, your people are there now."

"Yeah," said Marx, "but initial tests it's the same cord."

"One that's sold nationwide, in big box stores and corner hardware stores," Engels said as she flipped to a photo of a coiled cord, "same with that red ribbon."

"That doesn't look like it'd be strong enough to hang someone," Malden said.

"Isn't," Engels said, "we've tested it."

"End wasn't snapped," Ambrose said, "it was cut clean. But, docs say they're pretty sure she wasn't actually strangled by the noose."

Engels flicked through four close-ups of throats, all with angry marks around them.

"That'd be consistent then," she said, "the noose is... ah... a fetish, or something, psych profilers say. Not a weapon."

"Shit," Malden said, "we've been tracking the reports, we have the college here with, ah, plenty of potential targets. But this is a hell of a move."