Intimate Stranger (Editing)

Chapter 15: Katie

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THIS BOOK OR ANY PORTION OF THIS BOOK THEREOF MAY NOT BE REPRODUCED OR USED IN ANY MANNER WHATSOEVER WITHOUT THE WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR. ANY UNAUTHORIZED COPYING, BROADCASTING, MANIPULATION OR INFRINGEMENT OF THIS COPYRIGHT IS PUNISHABLE BY LAW.Part Fifteen

Saturday, February 13, 2010

I chose to envisage the last few minutes, where I was hurt and violated, like they never happened. The next thing I knew, there was a rough tugging on my arms, as Steve untied my arms from the bed. Then I felt him untying my feet as well.

After I was free, Steve went into the bathroom for a moment, most likely to clean my blood off of his knife.

My blood.

I didn't know why I didn't just make a run for it. It probably had something to do with the fact that I was stark naked. But mostly I was just in denial about the entire situation. No, this evil man didn't just rape me. No, he isn't holding most of the people I care about hostage. No, he didn't just murder Trace.

Sitting up, I stayed there on the bed for a few moments, staring at my nude body, which was now covered in all sorts of cuts. The biggest gash he gave me was on my lower stomach below my belly button, in the form of a giant "X." The blood around the wound was beginning to dry, and every time I moved, I winced in pain. I wondered why. Why in that particular spot? What was going on in Steve's fucked up brain?

Every inch of my body where he'd lain any finger was throbbing. Even if there was a spot where he hadn't physically scarred me, the hurt was still there.

Getting up, tears sprang into my eyes from the pain. I retrieved my panties and bra, and put them back on.

As I was trying to hook the clasp on my bra, Steve came out of the bathroom and saw me struggling with it.

He walked over to me and came up behind me. I cringed when he touched me. Not because I was in pain, but because of the touch of his cold hands against my bare skin.

He hooked my bra for me, without saying a word.

He began to tie my hands back together, and I let him. I felt too defeated to do anything. All I felt was helplessness.

All hope I had once had, was gone.

Steve grabbed me, about to lead me to the door, when he stopped, and looked over at the camera.

I gasped, The camera. The one he turned on before Lilah arrived. Before he shot Trace...

I had completely forgotten about it.

He went over to it, leaving me standing in the middle of the room. I suppose I could have found something to hit him with from behind, but my brain wasn't functioning properly. There wasn't a straight thought in my mind.

Steve pressed some buttons and then mumbled something incoherent.

"What?" I muttered, barely audible.

"This has been on since before I shot that Trace kid."

These confirming words registered in my brain, but somehow I couldn't fathom them. Did that mean he had the murder on tape?

He left the camera to deal with later, and turned his attention back to me. He unlocked the door, where I gawked at the blood stains on the wall and floor.

Trace...

Where was Lilah? Where did he put his body?

Holding onto me still, Steve unlocked my bedroom door, and shoved me inside, with such a force that I fell, and landed on my side. I slid a few inches, creating a burn on my side from the polished hardwood. Lifting myself off the floor, I winced from the now burning sensation on my body. I looked around, and my friends were all looking at me with horror.