Cherry Bite

Cherrybite- Miss forbidden 4

Callum <8bite

Callum sat in still silence, his eyes closed and his ears attentive. Just then he heard something...a shuffling coming from the back room. So presumably she was awake. He felt a strange sensation of butterflies in his stomach. He'd been waiting for so long that it almost felt like the moment had passed, and that his enthusiasm for this particular 'venture' had somewhat waned. He could perhaps just leave her there for another night when he felt a bit more like it. It wouldn't matter how much noise she made, nobody would hear anything. Not where they were.

He watched the moisture on the walls glisten with the artificial light from the single powerful halogen flood lamp on the floor by the far wall. No, he thought. It would feel too much like backing down. This wasn't just about the thrill, it was about the significance of it. That's what his father would have said. He closed his eyes and thought of his father...wherever he may be. He'd always followed the same routine, day in, day out, rain or shine, hell or high water. He wouldn't have expected anything less of Callum. Just to think...not doing something just because you didn't feel like it. He'd certainly not accepted that excuse from Callum's mother.

Callum winced in discomfort, as his memory played back the sound of his mother's sobs and screams, and his father shouting angrily about how he couldn't care less whether she 'felt like it'...

He grunted and snapped his eyes open, banishing the spectre of the past once again. His jaw was tight, his chest taut. He knew the memories were there to spur him on. He knew that it was a good pain, a constructive pain. A pain that was sent to test his strength. And once again, it was time for him to show his strength.

Getting up, he walked out of the room with the cistern and into a larger, more cluttered room. This room was set up with a rusted metal table, an old couch, a chest-freezer, a bookshelf with a few old books, yet another flood lamp, and even a small microwave oven. At one end of the room a ladder went up to a solid wooden hatch, and at the other end of the room was the old wooden door to the room in which he'd left her. He walked slowly and confidently up to the door, turned a key and opened it, bracing himself in case somebody ran out. When nobody did, he pull the door out fully and stood in the archway, merely a silhouette to anyone in the room.

"Sound's like you're up," he spoke out, a smirk on his face, though his eyes were still adjusting to the darkened chamber. "first thing's first, what's your name? And second thing, who in their right mind leaves a pretty thing like you all alone outside in the dark?"

Nate <8bite

Nate was keeling over her arms folded tightly around her middle, her breathing harsh and heavy as she struggled to gain control of herself, control of this wild fear blazing like an Australian bush fire; she was half bent over, head somewhere near her knees staring wide eyed at the floor trying to make sense of the situation. She couldn't conjure anything that would steady her and deflate this situation down to something she could swallow. Something she could cope with. She’d been drugged how could you explain that in a subtle manor to yourself.

She felt parts of her flaxen hair already loose slip from behind her shoulders down past her cheeks whilst she wheezed as a small droplet struck the stone floor below. Nate realised her eyes were damp and subconsciously leaking and stood up straight feeling the blood rush to her head. She sucked in a breath and held it.

Taking both thumbs she swept beneath her eyes to clear the wetness and after exhaling, inhaled deeply again in attempt to clear the weepiness. Crying fogged up her senses made her dumb to her surroundings, made her weak and unaware. She wanted to hear everything, wanted to test the area with the small selection of feral instinct she still had as a human being. But she was scared.

Nate was so afraid. The silence that caused her ears to fuzz, the cold that clawed at the inside of her throat and seeped through her clothes to cause havoc upon her skin, the atmosphere of this room hung so thickly she felt suffocated, nauseous and helpless like some field mouse trapped in a shoe box, shoved under some child's bed as a make shift pet that'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She longed to be home, screamed internally for this all to be a dream, a fabrication of the mind. She wanted [Julian], he was big and brawny, he'd know what to do, he was good like that but that wasn’t the point, he was comfort, something warm, something familiar...the last thing she remembered.

She felt more composed, not stronger, there was no strength in anything, the composure she'd managed to force together was pathetically fragile but thoughts of Julian succumbed Nate to sense. Try the door. It was the first step of many and only a small gesture but she had to start herself somewhere to get a sense of where she stood. If the door was locked she was entrapment within. If open...how she hoped it was open.

Nate forced herself forth, leg muscles quivering reluctantly beneath golden skin. She fed her small fingers around the handle, turned it soundlessly and hit a bolt. Locked. That’s when she heard the shuffling outside. She felt her entire body stricken down to the last muscle like a wild rabbit caught in headlights. Releasing the handle she peeled away from the wooden door her heart thudding in her chest. The coldness contrasting against the flush that heated her face. She melted towards the back of the room closer to the bed clenching her hands into fists and feeling how moist her palms were.

The door opened...to a blank space as orange light flooded in reaching just beyond the panel. Then came the silhouette against the light, broad and male Nate forced the lump in her throat back which summoned itself at first sight, holding her mouth closed against both her hands as her teeth clenched; eyes twinkling furiously. "Sound's like you're up"

Nate wanted to bite into her tongue, to stop her heart as it throbbed so loudly beneath her clothes, to stop the need to breathe. She wanted him to think she'd escaped, that the room held only darkness and a bed; she didn’t want to exist anymore.

"first thing's first, what's your name? And second thing, who in their right mind leaves a pretty thing like you all alone outside in the dark?"

Her skin crawled, she wanted to move, felt like he would see at any moment her standing directly left of the bed if she didn’t move but she couldn’t. It was like waking up from a nightmare laying on your side, too petrified to turn and flick on the bedside light in case it was there, watching you, in the back of your mind you'd decide by moving you'd taunt it and every time you'd tell yourself to move your muscles would tighten until you're sweating when all you need to do is turn but the terror holds you still.

Terror held her still.

He'd watched her standing there. Waiting for Julian just outside the cinema. Like some predator licking his lips eager to sustain his hunger. If Julian had seen, what would he have done, where had Julian been. He made it sound like her boyfriend was an idiot, like it was his fault. His fault something like this had happened when he'd nipped inside for 5 minutes. She remained silent eyes glittering wildly in the dark.