Prey (5 page)

Her fingers
gripped the sides of the sweatshirt and pulled it over her head,
allowing the wrinkled fabric to unfurl over her torso and hips. She
hugged one hip to the window sill and lifted a foot to line up the
leggings with her limb.

Her standing
foot pulled out from under her. The whole room appeared to vibrate
as her shoulder thudded to the floor, taking the brunt of the
fall.

She furled her
lips in puzzlement. The emotion surged into one of terror. The grip
around her ankle released and the bulk of the bed creaked in her
ears.

Without giving
herself time to protest, Susan shot her gaze to her feet.

Two large,
white-clothed arms bundled out from under the bed.

She screamed
with such intensity, her own ears ached.

A
balaclava-clad head and broad shoulders revealed themselves.

Her limbs
locked by fear, Susan gasped for air.

Raising to his
knees, the attacker ran his gloved hands up his victim's shins. He
pulled her legs apart and worked higher.

The muscles in
the young woman's thighs flexed and strained as she tried to close
them. The effort paled against the strength of the stranger.

Her teeth and
fists clenched for strength. Susan rolled her weight back onto the
bottom of her spine and pulled her appendages free. She propelled
her feet through the air with all her might. The bare heels surged
toward the murderer. One of them impacted with his shoulder and
knocked him off balance.

“
Stupid bitch,” he seethed through the mouthpiece of his mask.
His large hands pawed through the air. His thick fingers clutching
for flesh.

Susan wheeled
her legs as if willing a bike toward the finishing line. One made
contact with the bridge of the man's nose. Her skin drenched in
blood as the bone shattered and erupted with deep red fluid. She
roared. Her features scrunched tight as she fought through the pain
barrier in her leg muscles.

The attacker
rose up on his knees. His torso expanded to double the size. He
plunged an unforgiving fist through the melee. It landed. The blow
pulverised the muscle of the young woman's thigh with one clean
hit.

She howled in
agony and her legs stopped dead. Tears streamed her face and her
mouth hung open, choking on the salty saliva filling her throat.
She attempted to plead with her assailant, but the words left her
lips as nothing more than a panicked gurgle.

The masked man
jabbed his hand toward the prostitute's throat, pausing just short
and chomping down on a fistful of the sweatshirt which adorned her.
He jumped to his feet and tugged her with him. He grunted as he
moved.

“
Please,” she managed, before coughing and spluttering on her
own liquid breath.

He yanked her
forward, holding her face-to-face with the spoils of an earlier
battle. “Look at it, bitch. You're fucking next.” His arm tightened
and twitched. He lifted her off the floor. His eyes blazed in the
sockets and a solid lump prodded through the front of his trousers.
He pushed it tighter against her naked thighs.

The younger woman's limbs flailed, without strength or any
real direction. Her vision darkened as her eyelids narrowed to
slits.
Please. Please.
She struggled to suck air into her aching lungs. Her lips
quivered in terror.

One large glove
reached inside the man's jacket pocket. He pulled out a long
object. The obscene, crimson stains on the blade glared light the
light.

Susan's eyes
bolted to life. They ballooned and threatened to explode through
the sockets. She stretched the contours of her mouth to scream, but
gagged before the intention manifested.

He slipped the
blade beyond his fist and slashed down the material of the young
woman's shirt. Rolling a fat, slithering tongue along his lips, he
leered at her exposed breasts.

She pulled her
arms inward to cover up. They stopped with a grunt as lactic acid
burned through the muscles.

His eyes
feasting on her nakedness, the attacker traced the point of the
blade over the girls collarbone. He teased around the curve of her
breast, and poked against the erect knot of her nipple. The rise
and fall of his chest increased and saliva dribbled from one corner
of his mouth. The rasp of his breath surged through his
nostrils.

Susan closed
her eyes shut. Her body fell limp in defeat. She widened the lids
in surprise, as her fingers clunked against the solid form of the
window sill behind her. Her bicep pulsed and reached back further.
The handle of the knife rattled on the wooden surface, as she
clipped it with a knuckle. She stalled and watched her captor.

The murderer
continued to tease at the nipple with the blade, flattening it hard
against the young woman's body and allowing it to spring back into
shape. “You love this, don't you, whore?” He didn't wait for an
answer, instead moving his attentions to the other breast.

Her fingers
grappled through the air. A pre-emptive grin shot across her lips
as the handle nestled in the clutch of her tightening digits.

“
I knew it,” he grinned back. “You're all fucking whores.” He
slid the point lower, over the slight rise of her belly and around
the twitching knot of flesh in the centre.

The
prostitute's breasts bobbled as she filled her lungs and gathered
her energy. She bulged her eyes and stilled her pupils in
concentration.

He followed the
dipping blade with his gaze. Passing her waist, it tickled a path
across the young woman's shaven pubis. His breath seethed in rapid
bursts as he worked.

She windmilled
her fist over her shoulder like a swimmer in the breast stroke. Her
teeth grated in rage. A demonic groan surged from her lungs and
turned into a seething screech, as the knife crossed her line of
sight.

The murderer
paused his efforts. He shot his eyes up to the source of the
noise.

She plunged the
length of the blade down at his face. The sharp metal slurped
through his eye socket. It popped free as she tugged it back in her
intense grip.

His clutches
released in an instant. He dropped the girl and his weapon. His
eyes stretched in shock. He fell to his knees and roared through
his teeth, with vehemence. His hands clutched to the wound and
blood erupted through his fingers like lava from the top of a
volcano. He screamed.

Susan scrambled
to her knees. The handle pressed so tight in her palm, its edges
threatened to pierce the skin. She Jerked it forward and bellowed
as it plundered into the attacker's muscular neck.

He cried out in
agony as the new wound turned scarlet and wept his life's
blood.

She pulled back
her wrist and struck again without a pause.

His yell
gurgled in his throat.

The young
woman's hungry eyes rounded on the new gouge. She grimaced at the
handle protruding from the gory mess. The laceration erupted
crimson fluid like a bloody geyser.

The colour
drained from the murderer's face. Its skin turned ashy white as he
toppled to the floor. His hands clutched in desperation at the
plugged wound.

The high pierce
of the siren broke through the mayhem. A car door opened with a
resounding click.

Susan turned to
face the window. She narrowed her and flitted her pupils. A gritty
determination surged through her muscles and she snarled into the
cold air.

She tore the
knife from its handiwork, gripping it tight in both hands. Her
snarl rose to an animalistic growl. She drove it with intense force
into the dying man's scrotum. Her fists twisted the handle and the
blade crunched through flesh and bone. She retrieved the weapon and
drove it in at least half a dozen more times before dropping it to
the carpet with a damp thud. Her arms fell limp from the exertion
and she crumpled to the floor.

Her eyes
twitched and fought to cling onto consciousness. Susan watched as a
tall man in police uniform rushed around the bottom of the bed.

The officer
lifted her in his arms and pulled her out of the chaos. His
colleague barged past to deal with the rest of the scene.

The petite,
young woman hugged her naked form against the cold, damp uniform of
the policeman and closed her eyes to rest.

The End.

Prey

By Paulie
Celt

Smashwords
Edition

Copyright 2011
Paulie Celt

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