Night Crawling by Urs

Suddenly, there was a gloved hand pressed to her mouth. Donna was awaken rudely, aggressively. She opened her eyes but could not see anything. Her first instinct was to scream in terror but there was a strong, hard male hand preventing her from opening her mouth at all. Only mumbles escaped. She struggled, her arms and legs thrashing as she fought to break free of the sheets and the unknown assailant. Strong arms on her mouth and chest pressed her down to the bed. Then: the sound of metal sliding out of the case.

“Be still, I’ll cut your fucking throat.”

The blade was pressed against her throat. It went in deep. The skin held but barely. Donna forced herself to be still. Not easy. Her whole body trembled. The sound of her own heartbeat in her ears was deafening. Her pulse was going through the ceiling and her breathing was irregular, hysterical. Forced to breathe through her nose only, when every atom of her body screamed for air, Donna felt as if she was going to pass out. Only the fear, mortal fear, blind panic wouldn’t let her.

She couldn’t see. The man was kneeling on her bed, leaning close to her as he was making sure she doesn’t scream or fight, but the room was dark. She couldn’t see his face, he was just a dark silhouette, breathing hard.

“That’s better, bitch. Be smart the rest of the evening and you might live through this.”

Donna was trembling uncontrollably. This could not be happening. This had to be a dream. She had those before, she knew that. This had to be a dream.

The man adjusted the blade still firmly pressed against Donna’s throat.

“I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth now. You’ll be able to breathe easier. Do you understand? Do you want me to do that?”

Donna couldn’t breathe and couldn’t speak. She nodded, trying not to get herself cut but still make him see her signalling agreement in the darkness.

“Good.” The stranger chuckled. “I don’t need to remind you there’s a knife at your throat, do I?”

Donna shook her head energetically.

“Oh, you seem to understand well. Just in case, let me point out that I am very much ready to stick that blade into you as soon as you get any bright ideas about screaming. Is that clear? I’m going to fucking kill you the moment you try to pull a stunt on me. Are we clear?”

Donna’s blood was freezing in her veins. The fact that she still couldn’t force her eyes to make out any of his features had to do with the blood pressure and panic that was all over her. She nodded again, feeling him press the blade deeper into her skin, as a way of emphasising his point.

“Besides”, he continued, “your husband being out tonight leaves only your sons to come to your aid providing you can get the scream out. Now, you may be a stupid old broad for all I know but even you can’t be stupid enough to think any good would come out of that. You don’t want your sons hurt or worse, do you?”

Who was he? What? How? How did he?

There were many questions struggling for attention in Donna’s head. But priorities came in natural order. She shook her head left to right and again and again and again. She could hear him chuckle again. Suddenly his hand was not on her mouth any more. The smell of leather and sweat was gone.

“Let me hear that”, he said.

Donna struggled to gain control of her lower jaw. It took some seconds.

“please… please… don’t hurt my children… please…”

She whispered in desperation, in panic, in fear. There was no time to think, to plan, to analyse the situation. There was someone in her bedroom, on her bed, someone strange, violent and dangerous, someone ready to hurt her and her family.

“please… i… please… take whatever you want… just don’t hurt me… please…”

She pleaded in her broken whisper, trying to reason with him, trying to bargain with him. He could have it all. Her possessions, her money, her property – everything. All these things lose value the very second you are reminded your life is finite. Donna was reminded this in the worst possible way. Moreover, the threat to her sons struck her at an even deeper level. Anything, she’d give him anything just to see him leave.

“Now, be quiet, whore and look at me.”

Donna winced and tried to penetrate the darkness but there was nothing there. What did he want? The pressure of the blade on her throat increased. She started shaking uncontrollably.

“no… no… please… no… please…”

He laughed.

“You recognise me, Donna? Do you? Do you know who I am?”

She couldn’t see. The voice… The voice meant nothing to her. But he knew her name. He knew her husband was out tonight. He knew of her sons. He…

“no… no, please, I don’t…”

“Don’t lie to me, bitch!! Don’t you fucking try to play smart with me here!!!”

His free hand grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. Her throat was now even more vulnerable as he slowly started sliding the blade across it.

“Let me hear it, Donna. Who am I? No fucking smart ideas here! Tell me my name, whore!!! I’ll kill you, bitch, do you hear that?”

She didn’t dare move or scream. She couldn’t think of anything to do or say. Who was he? What was his name? Why why why why?

“please… please…”, she whispered, trying to buy time. No ideas, no words. “please… no, please, don’t hurt me…”

“I asked you a question!!!! Who am I?”

“I don’t know!!! I don’t know!! I swear I don’t know, I can’t see your face, please, please!!!”

Her whisper almost turned into a scream as she expected the blade to enter her throat.

However, he let go of her hair, let her head rest against the pillow.

“So you don’t, eh?” He chuckled again. “You don’t recognise me. Now there’s a disappointment.”

He adjusted his weight on the bed.

“I guess playing slut has became a second nature to you so it is not to be expected for you to remember every single occasion when you were cock-teasing and being a whore for the hell of it, only to retreat safely back to your family nest once your got enough egofucking.”

Donna didn’t know what to say. Donna didn’t know what to say. His words… His words were hurting her. They were harsh, obscene, unfair. Donna didn’t know what to say.

“no… God… no… who… who are you?”

“That’s what I asked you, Donna. That’s what I expected you to tell me. You fucking SLUT!!!!”

The last word was punctuated with a slap to her face. Sharp, savage, unexpected.

Donna’s head snapped to the right, her cheek starting to burn. Tears gushed forth from her eyes, like someone turned the tap on. The man grabbed her throat and started squeezing.

“You fucking bitch!!! I am not playing fucking games here!!!! This is not a fucking game!!!”

Donna tried pushing him away but he was too strong. She tried scratching his face with her fingernails but he was too close. She tried screaming but only a choked croak would come out. He was strangling her, savagely, brutally, in her own home, in the bed she was sharing with her husband for so long. He was strangling her, panting, breathing his hot breath into her face.

Not like this… Not like this, dear God, please.

As panic exploded inside of her, thoughts ran through Donna’s head, dealing with the ultimate lack of sense of this situation. She was about to die. She was about to be murdered in her own bed by a total stranger. A total stranger angry at her for reasons she was not, even at this moment, ready to analyse. A few more seconds and it would all be over. Her husband, her sons, so far away now, never knowing of what their mother’s/ wife’s final thoughts were. Never knowing she was contemplating her slut personality in her last moments, personality buried so deep in her soul, buried so deep and yet… And yet this… this man, he… he knew. He knew. Like many men knew. Like many men she gave enough hints to let them know. But never to be sure, never. She never did it, never. She only played… games. Only games… Dear Lord, those were just games, never…

The darkness in the room grew deeper as Donna started losing it. And then his hands let go of her throat.

“You fucking move a finger and I’ll stab you through your tits, all the way to your dishonest, whoring heart.”

The threat in his voice sounded real. But it was controlled again, not full of wild rage he radiated mere seconds ago. Donna breathed, audibly, deeply. She didn’t dare move anything but her lungs. The man had her completely under control. After all, he was mere seconds away from ending her life. Donna didn’t move, speak or even think. She breathed and shivered. What, what else was he to do to her? What horror had he in stock for her?

The stranger reached into his jacket.

“Get your fucking arms up.”

She obeyed, slowly. But he was not a patient man. He grabbed her wrist and forced her left arm above her head. There was a short gleam in the darkness then the cold on her wrist, then the clicking sound. Then he grabbed her other wrist. Up. And the touch of metal again.

“Now then. This is better.”

In shock, Donna realised her hands were now cuffed to the bedpost above her head. This… this was strange. He… he obviously planned this. This was not an act on impulse. He planned this.

Donna suddenly felt even more helpless. If there was even a theoretical possibility that she could fight her assailant before, now she was immobilised, completely at his mercy. A large, fully clothed man erupting with rage and ferocious determination and a startled, horrified woman in her nightgown, helplessly cuffed to the bed. One of them held the answers to questions the other dared not even ask.

Donna instinctively tried pulling her arms out of her shackles. It wouldn’t work. She was his for the taking, completely and utterly.

“Oh, God, God, please, no… no… no, please…”

Her voice was cracking, faltering. Her fear was tearing her apart.

“Shut the fuck up!!!”

His order had her even more frightened. She struggled to regain control of her breathing. He was looking at her.

“So you don’t know who I am, Donna, eh? You don’t?”