Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Dark Rapture II
Author: Forgottenidol



   Ff fant slow nc caution mc rough fist

   Summary: Second part of 'dark rapture'....a famous horror writer goes to
the house trying to find inspiration for her new book, what she finds is
something that will eventually consume her.

   Comments and feedback can be sent to novarask@protonmail.com



   Chapter 1

   Marcus and I drove along the narrow roads.  I had my face buried in a
bunch of print-outs of old newspaper reports.  I was excited to be on this
trip.  For months I have been trying to get ideas for my new book, but it
seemed as if inspiration was in sort supply.  My publishers were crawling
up my ass, wanting to know when the next Nova Raskin book would be on the
shelves.  I was tired of dealing with it, that's why I came to this small
New England town.  There was one house I was interested in, one house that
I had heard about on several occassions.  Most poeple I had talked to had
said that they considered this house to be one of the most haunted houses
in America.

   What better place for a horror writer to get inspired than by spending a
few days in a haunted house.

   "I still don't know why you want to go up there," Marcus said to me. 
Marcus was an old man who worked for the company that owned the house. 
Recently they had sold the land to the state who was preparing to tear it
down.  That's why I needed to make this trip right away.  "There hasn't
been anyone interested in that house in years," he continued, "I don't even
like going up there myself.  Something evil in there for sure; my hair
stands up on end when I walk in there...  well, what's left of my hair
anyway."

   "That's exactly why I'm interested in it," I told him.

   "I know, I know.  But I don't think a pretty lady like you should be
bothering with such nonsense.  It ain't good to keep rustling up bad
things. We should just let it be."

   I guess that was charming, in a pathetic old geezer kind of way.  But I
was not concerned with his opinion.  I looked through my notes some more as
we continued driving.  Up until the 1940's the house was a brothel, and it
seemed quite a popular one.  It seemed like people had come here for there
ladies from all over the area.  Naturally, I suppose, they attracted their
fair share of bad company.  But it was not the nature of the house, or it's
former inhabitants that interested me, but rather who, or what, now haunted
it's interior.

   My research had led me to one story that I could not deny as being the
source of the hauntings.  In the summer of 1939, a strange person came into
town and frequented the brothel.  He went by the name, Jona.  Around the
time he arrived in town several of the girls working at the house were
found dead.  They had been raped and slaughtered.  A typical
Jack-the-ripper style case, except of course for the ending.  Jona was the
only suspect, but the police had trouble linking any of the murders
directly to him.  There was; however, not need for any for the people who
ran the house.  It had ties to the underworld, and to them there was no
doubt who had committed the murders.  They dragged him out of his bed one
night, brought him to a hidden basement room built during prohibition and
locked him down there to die.  Months later it was out of people minds for
the most part.

   But it seemed that Jona was not going to be forgotten.  Ever since that
event, strang things started happening.  Objects would move, girls living
in the house were attacked by mysterious forces.  It had become too much
for the house to continue to operate and it was closed down in 1942.

   A few years later it was bought and converted into a residence and sold.
According to what I could find, it didn't seem that anyone had stayed in
the house for more than a month.  The first people to own the house
completely disappeared.  The fortune of all it's future owners were no
better.  Family members would vanish or go insane.  The last people to own
the house, found their daughter naked on the dirty basement floor, rambling
incoherently and masterbating.

   My imagination was already going crazy as we pulled up to the house.  As
I exited the car I looked up at it.  It looked scary, like it had been
neglected for years.

   "Well, good luck to you," Marcus said as he pulled the last of my things
out of the car.  "I'll be back tomorrow morning, miss." With that he got
back into the car and left.

   I grabbed my things and walked into the house.  The air inside felt damp
and heavy, and I noted it as a horrible cliche I too was guilty of using
from time to time.

   "Good one," I said to myself, "I guess next it's going to get really
cold." I sort of laughed at myself saying it.  I was acting as if I was
talking to the damn ghost.

   I walked around the downstairs.  Some old, dusty furniture was still
around, but nothing I would really enjoy sitting on.  I moved upstairs,
bringing my stuff up to one of the bed rooms.  I set out my cot, and threw
my sleeping bag over it.

   I took in my surroundings, like every good writer should, and tried to
picture people walking about, going about there day in and out of rooms,
unaware of any presence gazing at them.  That's what I needed to depict. 
Lure my reader into the innocence of the people, make them stop thinking
about how they know something bad will happen, make them hope no harm will
come to them.

   I took out my notebook and started to scribble some notes: innocent
family -- possessed house.  No, no, no!  That was horrible!  The concept
had been done too many times.  I wanted my next book to be something great.
I didn't want it to be a cheap horror story, I wanted it to mean something.
I wanted it to be a metaphor.

   There will be no innocent victim.  I thought about the house's history.
It had been a brothel, a place of debauchery, a place many people would
frown upon today.  That would be my background, a brothel.

   I needed it to focus around the real story of the house, but I needed to
make it better.  I had always concerned myself with what was going to
happen next; as I wrote, I would always think about what would happen next,
and try to keep my readers guessing.  This time, it would be different.  I
would not focus on what will happen, but why it happens.  I needed to get
into the mind of the horror.

   Damn.  If only the character of my inspiration were still alive.  I
couldn't do that, I couldn't sit down and get into the mind of the murderer
because he was dead.  I needed to improvise.

   Why would someone kill?  All the classes and research I have done for my
books I've always heard about the bad childhoods and sexual frustration.  I
would have to build something on that.

   I took a break for a moment and put my notebook and pen down.  I went
over to the bathroom and was pleased to find that the water was still on. I
cleaned up the toilet and relieved myself.

   I returned and picked up my notes and I jumped.  There was something
written in small letters on the bottom of the page, and I was not the one
who wrote it.  'You want to know?' it said.

   Suddenly I heard a cracking sound, like the roof was buckling.  I paused
for a moment, looking at the ceiling, wondering if it was going to
collapse. I knew it, I knew this place was haunted.  I tried not to get too
excited.

   "Well, I guess you think your something special, huh?" I yelled, "You
are not going to scare me, is that what you want to do..." I paused for a
second, "...  Jona?!"

   The buckling sound suddenly stopped, which made me just a little
nervous. There was a silence in the house, and a draft ran through it.  I
jumped as a loud bang resonated through the house shattering the silence.

   I couldn't let myself be scared.  "What are you trying to prove, you
son-of-a-bitch!" I screamed.  Maybe they weren't the best choice of words.
Suddenly I heard something...

   "I don't want to be scared..." The words drifted softly from somewhere
in the house, and it sounded like a little girl.  "Mommy, where are you?" I
heard the voice again, it sounded so sad and desperate.  I knew it was
against my better judgement, but I left the room and looked up and down the
hall.  "I want to be brave..." I heard it say again, and I thought that it
had come from upstairs in the attic.

   I knew it was a stupid idea to go up there, but if I was going to try to
understand the presence that possessed this house I needed to jump right
into it and confront it.

   I climbed the stairs slowly, and made my way into the attic.  It was
extremely dark, and as I walked in I heard the door slam behind me.  Oh
shit, I thought.  I walked further into the attic, looking desperately for
some sort of light switch.  I didn't find anything.

   "Are you here to help me..." I heard the voice again.

   "Who are you?" I asked.

   'Haven't you already answered that?' I jumped as a deep voice swept out
of the shadows.  'Don't you already know?  Or is it just arrogance?'

   "Jona?!" I asked.

   'I haven't heard that name in a long time, ' he said, 'Many people have
come through here, but none of them have called me that, but none of them
have called me a son-of-a-bitch, either!  Now what are you doing here?'

   "I...  I'm curious," I said, trying not to sound nervous.

   'Yes...  I know...  I can see it in your head, ' he said, 'your looking
for a story.  You want to make people terrified, don't you?  And you want
them to love you for it?!' I could not respond.  I was lost in the idea. 
'Yes, that's it isn't it?  For that, I can almost like you.  But there is
something else, isn't there?  Something even more you want to know?  Me,
isn't it...  that's why you went out and found out about this place, why
you walked into this hell with confidence?  You want to see through my
eyes, and right it down in one of your books.'

   "I do not.  You're just flattering yourself!" I said, though I knew that
he had stumbled onto the truth.

   'You are lying to me.  I can see into your head, so it is pointless to
try to fuck with me, ' his tone grew more stern, 'but since you seem so
curious, I will let you know anything you want...  but of course, you need
to do me a favor.'

   I was almost afraid to ask, "What is it?  What do I have to do," I
asked.

   'To start, I want you to touch yourself, I'll tell you anything you want
to know, as long as your rubbing that pussy of yours.'

   "What?!" I freaked out.  There was no way in hell.  "Now way!" I yelled.

   'If that's what you want, you can just die up here...  ' his voice
trailed off, back into the silence.

   "What the fuck," I mumbled.  I felt my way back over to the door and
tried to open it.  It was shut tight.  I banged on the door with my hand.
"Let me out!" I yelled, "Let me out now you fucking asshole!!!!"

   Just as I said that I felt something hit me hard.  I fell to the dirty
floor, my head smacked against it.  I was pinned down, my body almost being
crushed.

   'I think you are forgetting your fucking place here, whore...  Don't you
fucking forget I'm a murderer and I am even stronger in death than I was in
life...  '

   I was pulled roughly across the floor, and I felt my skirt being torn
away.  "Agh!  Stop!," I yelled, "Stop!  I'll do anything for you, please!"

   'Who the fuck do you think I am?  Making offers to me?  I don't
compromise, and I don't negotiate.  I do what I want.  Isn't that what you
came here for?  So now you know.  I killed, and I raped because I fucking
liked it, and I wanted to do it.  Hard to comprehend, isn't it?  That the
same reason why you write books is the same reason I killed.'

   I felt the force press even harder against me, and my panties were torn
from me.  I couldn't breath.  I wished that I had never gone to that house.
I was completely helpless, I could not force enough air out of my mouth to
even plead for release, and I felt my legs being spread painfully apart.

   'Remember it was you who came looking for me!  No one made you walk
through that door!'

   I suddenly felt something warm and slimely rubbing against my pussy.  I
freaked!  I tried to pull myself away, but it was hopeless.  I was
completely at the mercy of an evil, etherial being.  I tried to gasp, and
my stomach tensed as I felt an enormous pressure against my cunt as the
huge object was trying to drive through my dry opening.  The pressure was
intense and relentless.  I felt my pussy lips stretch and the object jam
inside.  Tears flowed from my eyes as the pain was so intense.

   I tried to scream, but all that escaped my mouth was silence.  It kept
driving forward, making painful, slow progress up my dry passage.  It
thrusted and thrusted again, forcing my body to rub painfully against the
hard wooden floor.  It constantly hammered my sore pussy, tearing the
sensitive tissue in my cunt.  My head felt light, and I felt like I was
going to throw up as it slammed into me so hard.

   Still it got deeper, forcing the slimey thing to slam into my cervix
with each thrust.  It slammed again, pushing me even harder into the floor.
I felt like I was going to die, and a part of me wished that I would.

   There was no stopping it, my pussy was constantly torn open, forced to
accept the huge invader.  I was thankful when my pussy start going numb,
and the pain of my torn pussy lips ceased.  All I could feel was the
constant pressure of the end slamming into the deepest parts of my body. 
The thing swell, forcing my insides to stretch even more, and I felt a hot
flood break out deep in my body.  I was filled with some kind of hot,
disgusting cum.  It filled my cunt completely in a second, and dribbled out
onto the dirty floor.  The added lubrication from it made the thing slam
even harder into me, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back
in, still oozing as it did.

   I felt the pressure increase on my back, and I heard his voice again,
'You are not so curious anymore, are you, bitch...  and now you know what I
am, and why I am...  I'm the consiquence, I'm the proof that some doors
should not be opened because I can not be tamed...  ' The thing in my cunt
was forced hard against my cervix as it continued to cum, shooting it
straight into my womb and I felt my mind going black.

   'But nothing will ever change, no one will learn...  they will keep
coming like they always have...  they need to...  the mystery is
arousing... and I am proof of that...  people will never let the gates of
hell be closed...  they will always be running to be satisfied more and
more to greater extremes, just as I have, and one day they will all be like
me: free.  When they ask you who did this to you, let them know it was me,
the need to be satisfied, the need never to be content, the desire for
glory and power.  Tell them it was the very thing they all want to be!'
The pressure steadily increased, and the pain grew more intense than I

could bear, and slowly darkness covered my face as I passed out.

   I slowly woke up from my haze, cold concrete pressing against my skin.
My body was in terrible pain and I felt a hand press against my shoulder. I
shrieked and pulled myself away.  I turned around and saw a man hovering
over me.  He was a paramedic.

   "It's ok.  Were bringing you to the hospital.  Just try to stay calm."
He said.

   I looked around.  I was outside on the street, and I had no recollection
of how I got there.  The man pulled me up and lead me to back of the
ambulence.

   I spent a few days in the hospital, but trying to free my mind from what
had just happened would take a lot longer.  There was something I could not
put my finger on, but I felt so different, but not in a bad way.  I didn't
want to write my next book anymore, my publishers can just go fuck
themselves, those goddamn, stuck-up motherfuckers...  Shit, what was I
thinking!?  I needed to write that book to satisfy the last of my book
deal. Fuck It!  I thought...  I didn't need to do a fucking thing, I'll go
down to those people and tell them were to put that contract!

   I just tried to relax.  I sat in my bed and read the paper until I got
to a story that read: "Alledged Haunted House Bought/...  James Walsh, a
wealthy stockbroker, bought the house from the city just days before it was
scheduled to be torn down.  "I've always been a sucker for the paranormal,"
Walsh said yesterday, 'I think it will be interesting to own a house that's
supposedly haunted.  I bet tons of people would like just to spend a night
in one.'"

   I stared at the picture of the house, and tears came to my eyes.  Still,
through the tears now running slowly down my face, there was a part of me
that was laughing.  Chapter 2

   Something had changed in me.  It had been several weeks since my ordeal
at the house, and there was something eating at my mind ever since.  As if
some alien idea had become lodged in my head, but I couldn't quite get it
out of my head.  I had been doing a lot of research trying to track down
anyone who had any contact with the house.  It took some time, but I
eventually found some names.  It was a good thing I had some money saved up
because I was going to do a lot of travelling.

   I thought that the best place to start was with the last people to own
the house.  They had lived in the house for only a few days when there
daughter went insane.  Their daughter was the one I was interested in. 
Though it had been several years she was still admitted to a hospital in
upstate New York.  It took some phone calls, but I finally got permission
to see her.

   I was greated at the hospital by a nurse, who introduced herself as Mrs.
Jennings.

   "I was kind of startled when you called," she said after she greeted me,
"No one has asked about Jenny in months." She picked up a clipboard and led
me down the hallway.  "It's quite sad actually, not even her parents come
to see her anymore.  I don't think that could handle it.  Jenny doesn't
really talk to anyone, so when I heard you wanted to speak with her I was a
little skeptical." We stopped to wait for the elevator.

   "She never really says anything to us, it's like she's in her own world,
constantly fighting with something," she continued.  "She doesn't pay much
attention to anything."

   "In her own world?" I asked her, "What do you mean she's fighting with
something?"

   "Well, in most cases like her's the people believe they are being
possessed," She said, "Jenny rambles to herself all the time, nothing you
can really make out; it's like she's talking to something she believes is
inside her."

   The elevator opened and we stepped in.  "When she first got here," Mrs.
Jennings continued, "she was very aggressive.  We were forced to sedate her
several times.  But eventually she calmed down, and sort of retreated into
herself."

   We got off the elevator at the next floor and she led me down another
hallway.  "We've moved her to a different room so you can speak with her in
private," she opened up a large, windowless steel door.  "Here she is, good
luck."

   I walked into the room and Mrs.  Jennings closed in behind me.  Sitting
on a bed in the corner was Jenny.  She looked as if she had not slept in
days.  As I approached her, I could hear her mumbling to herself.

   "Jenny?" I asked.  "Hi, Jenny.  I'm Nova."

   She looked at me.  Her eyes were bloodshot, and looked heavy.

   "I know," she said.  I was a bit startled.

   "Oh.  How do you know that?" I asked.

   "Because.  It told me.  It told me that you were coming to see me."

   "It?" I asked.

   "Yes.  You know what it is.  You felt it, you still feel it." She told
me, her eyes looking almost hollow.  "You looked startled."

   "I'm just surprised.  They told me that you don't talk much." I said.

   "Why talk to those who can't understand." she said to me, leaning over
in the bed towards me.  "But you understand, you've felt it before."

   "That's why I'm here.  I want to understand."

   "I don't.  I want to forget.  I've had years to think about it.  I was
young when..." her voice trailed off and she mumbled, turning her head from
me.

   "What is it?" I said, placing my hand on her shoulder.

   "The emptiness.  It feels greater than it ever has now, doesn't it?" she
looked at me again, "when you are in bed alone at night, the hollowness is
even stronger, more prolific.  And you stroke your cunt," her hand drifted
between her legs, "hoping that some sexual fulfillment with erase it, but
it doesn't, it only deepens it."

   Her hand stroked herself, and her tone grew in force.  "But you know
what that emptiness is, don't you?  It's fear...  and it knows it...  that
force that tried to take you, that for some reason let you go, but trapped
itself inside me."

   "And what is it?  What was it in that house?  Wasn't just a pressence, a
ghost of some kind?" I asked her.

   "NO!" she yelled, and jumped off the bed.  "You don't get it!!!  You
don't understand it because it let you go!  It's not just in that house,
it's in me, and in everything it touches and it spreads.  That's why I can
never let myself leave this place.  I would do such horrible things, it
would make me do them!" She jumped back down on the bed and put her face in
her hands.

   I put my hand back on her shoulder.  "When I was there, I called it
Jona, and it recognized the name."

   "That's what it once was.  Jona...  it mentioned it before.  When I'm
trying to sleep the voice of it in my head rambles on and won't shut up."

   "A voice in your head?" I asked her.

   "Yes.  I told you, it's inside me.  It speaks to me, and controls me."
she said, "I can't stop it."

   "But what is it.  Is it just Jona?" I asked her.

   "No.  Jona was the soil something much bigger grew out of..." her hand
had drifted back down to her crotch and she was lightly rubbing it.

   "But what is it?" I asked.

   "An idea, a feeling, a need, a desire...  oh," she gasped as her hand
rubbed wildly against her cunt.  I tried to stop her, but she pushed me
away.  "...  think of it...  like this...  ask yourself...  what if.  What
if some need, or desire...  became so strong, that under the right
circumstance...  or in the right enviroment...  it developed...  a sort of
substance...  like a form etched in the essence of life itself..." She
looked up at me, looking almost desperate.  "...  that's what it is... 
Jona was just the catalyst...  it wrapped itself around his will...  and
now, it just grows stronger."

   Her hand lashed out and grabbed mine, and before I knew it she had my
hand pressed into her crotch and she was humping against it.  I could feel
the heat of her cunt on my hand.  I tried to pull away from her, but she
seemed extremely strong.

   "Oh...  ahh...  please...  I don't..." her voice trailed off, and her
thighs locked around my hand as she bucked wildly into it.

   I pushed against her and tried to pull my hand free, but she grabbed me
by my throat.  I tried to scream, but couldn't.  The next thing that I knew
I was almost off the ground.

   "Fucking bitch!" she said, "I should have taken you when I had the
chance, you stubborn whore!"

   "J...  Jona?!" I shrieked.

   "Stop fucking calling me that!" as she said that I was thrown down onto
the bed.  I was laying on the bed, with her over me.  I was pinned down by
her legs.  "Now pleasure me, bitch!" I felt her hand pull my head up as she
pulled up her gown.  My face was mashed against her wet panties.  Her hips
jerked and her pussy was pushed against my mouth.  It scraped against my
teeth, and the juices from her pussy were spread along my face.

   "AAAAAHHH!!  FUCK!!!" She screamed.  Both her hands were on my head,
grinding my face into her crotch.  It was hard for me to breathe.

   Suddenly she let me go, and I fell back onto the bed, and she rolled off
of me.

   "Please...  get out of here...  PLEASE!!!" I heard her beg.

   I quickly got up and headed for the door.

   "Just give up!!" I heard her say as I opened the door and slipped out. I
stopped in the hallway to catch my breath.  I wiped my face and
straightened out my cloths.  I panted.  I felt weak, and it felt like I
needed to vomit, but the sensation quickly left.  I felt a pit in my
stomach, a deep hollow feeling.  There was still something I needed to
know...  But I had no idea where to find it.  Chapter 3

   I don't know why, but for some reason I found myself turning back, and I
stood in the door frame, the door open just a crack.  I peeked in to see
Jenny, kneeling on the bed, tearing strips out of the sheets.  I slowly
opened the door more, until I was able to slip past it.

   With great caution I approached the bed.  Her back was turned towards
me. As I got within an arms length of her I spoke.

   "Jenny?  Jenny, are you ok?" I asked her.

   She was quiet, but as I reached my hand out to her she reached back and
grabbed, squeezing it tightly.

   "I knew you were coming back," I heard her say.  Just as she said it,
she pulled at my arm and turned to look at me.  Her look was cold and
calculated.  "...  You idiots always come back!"

   She pulled harder on my arm and I was forced down on the bed, my head
banging against the concrete wall.  The next thing I was aware of, I was
once again on the bed.  Everything was sort of in a blur, but I felt one of
the strips of the sheet being wrapped around my neck.  It was pulled tight
around my neck, barely allowing me to breathe.  I struggled but the strip
was tied down to the bed, and Jenny (or was it?) was on top of me holding
me down.

   I looked up at her, and she looked down at me with a small grin on her
face.

   "First, I think I'll need your clothes," She said as she undid the
buttons of my blouse.  She forced the thin fabric from my arms and slipped
the blouse off of me.  She looked down at my breasts, and I felt her
fingers dig at my bra.  She pulled at one of the cups and my tit popped
out. "You have some nice tits," she said as she squeezed it roughly.  Her
other hand reached up and grabbed one of her own.  "No, mine are much
better," she smirked.

   Then I felt her hands undo my skirt.  I tried to kick at her as she
slipped them from my legs, but she held them down firmly.  When she had it
off, she got off of me and stood next to the bed.  I tried to pull at the
fabric around my neck, but it was just too tight.  I couldn't talk, I
couldn't breathe, and I felt light headed from it constricting my veins.

   "Come on, don't struggle..." She said as she slipped by blouse on and
buttoned it, "...  You had your chance to run away.  I mean, Jenny even
told you to..." she then slipped my skirt on.  "Well, they are a little
big, but they will have to do." She said and looked at me, "but now what am
I going to do with you?"

   "Maybe I should just kill you," She said, placing her hand on my flat
stomach.  "No...  we can't do that, you've done so much for me already!" I
looked at her, a puzzled and frightening look must have been on my face. 
"Yes...  it's true, I used you so well.  Little Jenny here only had one
small thread of will left with which to fight, and I knew you would come
here, being as curious as you are," her hand began to slowly slide down my
stomach.  "I have to thank you for coming here and stirring up so many bad
memories.  With your help I was finally able to push that little bitch to
the side.  And now, I'm little Jenny." She stood up, a leg on either side
of me, and ran her fingers through her hair.

   "See, now I'm a pretty little girl," She said, then kneeled down putting
her face just inches from mine, "I want to be a princess when I grow up,
mommy!" she said with a big grin on her face.

   I tried to speak, but my voice was held back.

   "What's that?!  You need to say something?  You having a hard time
breathing?" Her hand once again moved down my stomach, "You know, I think
I'll enjoy being a young girl.  It's going to be so much fun, and I think
I'll have some fun with you first."

   When I heard her say that I freaked out, and tried to kick her off of
me, and tried to pull myself free.  Suddenly I felt a hard smack against my
face.  I felt the insides of my cheeks slam against my teeth and I tasted
blood leaking into my mouth.  I was completely dazed.

   "And to think I was going to be nice to you and let you enjoy it," she
said as she pushed herself down my body.  She grabbed on of my legs and
tucked my thigh under her arm.  She pushed my other leg off the end of the
bed so that my legs were wide open in front of her.  I was still dazed, and
felt uneasy with the blood slowly sliding down my throat.

   Then I felt her hand squeeze at my covered pussy.  The palm of her hand
mached down hard, forcing the fabric to rub roughly against my skin, and
drag aloong my clit.  I was startled and jumped a little as she did it. 
She roughly twisted her hand down hard against my cunt.  A heat spread
across my pussy from the friction.  I tried to yell, but nothing came out.

   "Oh, this will be so much fun!" I heard her say as her hand wrapped
around the base of my panties and I heard them tear.  In one flawless
motion, they were torn from my body, and the cool air rubbed against my
exposed cunt.

   I looked down at her, finally finding enough courage to look, and I saw
her spit on my pussy.  I felt her warm saliva slowly creep down between my
lips.  Suddenly I felt two of her fingers slam into me.  The sudden
sensation forcing my hips to lurch upwards, and my stomach to tighten.  In
and out her fingers slammed into me.  I could hear her knuckles smashing
against my crotch.

   A pain shot up from between my legs as her fingers turned and spread
inside my cunt, and s third finger joined them.  All three of her fingers
were forced into me, and I jumped again.  My eyes watered as I relized that
my cunt was doing the same.  I felt my moisture leaking out around the
invading fingers, and I felt ashamed.

   "Oh, looks like someone's enjoying herself!" she said, and laughed,
making me feel even more ashamed.  "Isn't that just so shameful!"

   I tried to cry out in pain as I felt yet another finger spread my lips
apart.  My pussy ached as all four of her fingers twisted and spread apart
inside me, trying to open my cunt even more.

   "Hell," she said, "We've gone this far, why not go all the way."

   I tried to gasp as I felt her thumb press into my pussy.  She pressed
hard and I could feel my pussy sliding up her fingers to the first, then
second knuckle.  She twisted her hand, pushing even harder at it, and I
felt her hand slide deeper, and the widest part of her hand press against
the sore lips, begging to be allowed in.

   "Come on," she said, "You can take it!" As she said that she pushed
hard. Tears welled up in my eyes as my pussy was torn by her fist and my
lips were sealed around her wrist.  My pussy was in agony, but she wasted
no time at all and punched at my cunt, trying to drive her hand even deeper
into me.  My pussy went dry from the pain and I felt the sides of her hand
pulling at the soft tissue of my vagina.  A lump formed in my throat as I
tried to scream.  I tried to drag myself up the bed away from her, but she
kept driving forward.  I felt her hand burrow further up into my cunt, and
still she punched at me.  I could feel my hips jerk, and my insides twitch
with every thunderous push forward she made.  I was in absolute agony.

   Suddenly she stopped, and I felt my insides being sucked as her hand
slid back.  My mind was put at a little ease as I felt her hand pull free
from my cunt with a horrid slurping sound.  An empty feeling in my cunt was
never so welcomed (what was I thinking?!)

   "You know, I think I'm going to take you with me," she said as I felt
her untie the strip and pull it free from my neck.  I rolled on the bed,
coughing and gasping for air.  She pulled me off onto the floor and pulled
up the mattress.  I watched as she undid some of the metal strips that
supported the mattress.

   "You'd be surprised," she said as she noticed me looking at her, "at
what you can use to kill someone."

   The very ends of the wires were quite sharp, and she rolled up the wire
until it was a few inches from the end, and it looked like a very crued
dagger.  She picked me up of the ground and dragged me to the door.  She
put the make-shift dagger in my hand and held it firmly.  I was scared
about what she would make me do.

   She peeked out the door and looked at the clock on the wall.  "Ok, in a
few minutes nurse Jennings will be making her rounds," she whispered in my
ear, "when she comes up here, your going to call for her, and if you don't
this thing," she squeezed my hand that held the dagger, "is going into your
pretty little head." Then she just smiled at me.

   I was completely trapped.  I was lost in the situation, and I was only
concerned about my own saftey.  I was scared and this maniac knew it!

   The elevator bell rung and I saw Mrs.  Jennings step out.

   "Excuse me, Mrs.  Jennings, could you come here for a moment?" I said
through the door.  I heard her foot steps draw nearer.  It seemed to take
an eternity, but suddenly the door opened.  I had my eyes open just long
enough to see the look of shock on her face and my hand being dragged
forward and the dagger digging into her neck.  My eyes were shut, and tear
ran down my face as I felt warm blood ooze down around my hand.  I let go,
and I heard her choking as she slid down with a thud.

   I was pulled from the door, and we were halfway down the hall before I
opened my eyes.  I was in shock as I saw the blood on my hand.  She pulled
me into the elevator.

   "Why?" I asked her, "Why did you make me do this?" I tried desperately
to wipe the blood from my hands.

   "Just tell yourself that she was evil, and you'll feel better," she
said, "make up something, just keep telling yourself that she molested some
of her patients or something and all that guilt will go away." She stared
at the numbers on the elevator.  "Besides, you're the one doing to
kidnapping...  because, remember, I'm an innocent mentally-ill girl, and on
top of that, you murdered a nurse.  I needed to do it, just in case you
wanted to turn against me."

   I put my face down in my hands and cried.  "Now we need to find you some
clothes," she said.

   I felt her face move close to my ear, and I felt her hot breath as she
spoke, "And remember, as far as the world knows you're now the sick fuck,
not me..."