Midnight Dream – Book One
by Ramz Artso
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Copyright ©2014 by Ramz Artso
http://ramzartso.blogspot.com/
Cover art and design by Laura Gordon
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This book is entirely a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used in a fictitious manner and are in no way to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations and locales is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, copied, scanned, distributed or used in any printed or electronic form, or any other manner, without written permission from the author.
Chapter 1
I lit a cig and blew out white smoke into the dank autumn air of Geneva, Switzerland. It was already pretty late in the night; just over two o’clock to be precise, and I was headed back home after an unsuccessful night of clubbing. All of my friends, most of whom were senseless drunk, had decided to keep partying until five in the morning. As for me, I just didn’t have it in me that night to keep them company.
Moving at a brisk pace, I passed a few blocks and turned a sharp corner, now only about a ten minutes’ walk away from my studio apartment that I rented out for one thousand and six hundred francs a month. Coughing, I chucked away my fuming cancer stick, which was exactly when I noticed a flicker of movement from the corner of my eye. All of a sudden, I started developing a growing sensation that I was being followed. My fears were only intensified when I heard a steady beat of boots right behind me.
Frightened, but still able to think rationally, I looked up and down the gloomy street, catching a glimpse of two hooded men as I scanned my surroundings over my shoulder, but there was no one else to be seen. Just to check whether or not I was being paranoid, I decided to quicken my step. Much to my horror, the boots seemed to pick up speed as well.
I was already steeling myself for a frenzied dash across the street, where some twenty-four hour neon sign was blinking in and out of existence, when, completely out of the blue, someone covered my mouth with a gloved hand and pulled me backwards into a dark alley.
Adrenaline kicked in like a jackhammer. Without any tarrying, I bit down on the leather glove and started to sprint. Too shocked to scream, I barely managed to make it to the curb, when I was, once again, yanked back into the shadows by a big, husky man. His companion, who had a slightly smaller and thinner physique, snatched my bag and took to emptying its contents out onto the cold pavement.
Eyes all wild, I watched him go through my purse as well as other belongings, all the while asking myself one earsplitting question: Is this really happening to me? My entire life, I had always feared something of the kind. That said, never would I have for one second believed that I would end up being the victim in one of these horrendous stories.
The smaller guy produced a butterfly knife from one his many pockets. I couldn’t really see his face as it was dark all around, but I heard his voice loud and clear. ‘Listen to me, sweetheart, my friend and I are gonna have some fun with you. If you’ll be a good girl and play along, we’ll let you live. But if you resist, I’ll freaking cut you. Is that understood, my little piggy?’ Finding it heart to breathe through my choked throat, I attempted to stop my streaking tears, failed miserably and then nodded a shuddery nod. ‘That’s a good girl,’ he said in accented French, unzipping his pants in a single movement. ‘I knew you’d come along. Now, my pal here is gonna remove his hand, but you won’t scream, will you?’ He pressed the blade to my throat. Hands trembling, I shook my head spasmodically. ‘All right then,’ he looked at his accomplice. ‘Let go of her mouth, she’s gonna have to put it to use. Won’t you, my little piggy?’
The moment my lips were set free, I breathed in as much air as possible, and yelled, at the top of my lungs, ‘He-e-e-e-elp!’
‘Freaking swine,’ the skinny sleazeball cursed through gritted teeth, and before I knew it, he lodged his glistening weapon right in my heart, after which he broke into a crazed sprint.
I felt a sudden pang of pain in my chest at impact, like something inside me had exploded, and then again and again. Looking down, I observed a spreading stain of blood. The dark, warm liquid poured down my stomach, and as I tried to cover the wound and take a step forward, I tripped and fell flat on my face instead.
The suffering continued for a few lengthy seconds, and as I my body finally failed me and stopped functioning altogether, I was thankful – thankful that I no longer had to endure the agonizing pain.
