From the start of the night, the atmosphere held a premonition of evil tidings. When later, it started drizzling and everyone went inside early, A hooded figure stood lurking in the shadows between a dilapidated building and the public toilet on Crystal street.
Biola just left her boyfriend’s house and despite all his effort to make her stay the night, even with the rain, she had refused. The last time she tried it was with a guy she was seeing before. They had chemistry quite well, but their compatibility was shit. It had been raining that day as well and she had decided to stay till morning. Against her better judgement, they had had a sweet night, one that felt so right but she knew was so wrong. Once beaten, twice shy…so she was not going to let that happen again.
Her boyfriend, fairly new, but very compatible was the worst person she could stay the night within a drizzling night because the chemistry was mad–crazily mad. Irresistibly mad…
So as it started drizzling, she knew it was time to leave. Rain at night with her in a dude’s place had never been good for her.As she hurried out of his apartment, he offered her an umbrella. “You know you can stay if you really trust me. Nothing will happen.” He said.
“I do trust you,” she said, “it’s myself I don’t trust with you. Beside’s I’ve got work to do tonight.”
As he waved her goodbye, she hurried down the sparsely lighted street. Suddenly a bolt of lightning struck an electric pole as she walked by, sending sparks all around that made her jump and plunged the street into thick darkness.
Biola paused and looked back. She hadn’t gone too far and could still go back to her boyfriend’s house. A careless wind blew then and knocked the umbrella out of her loose grip carrying it high in the air until it was soon out of sight. She should definitely go back now, she decided.
But then, what would he think of her? Would he think she was cheap and without resolve?
So on she trudged.
Her house was not that far, anyway, if she hurried she should make it.
And on she trudged.
She was soon by the public toilet, thank goodness. Her house was just around the corner of the dilapidated house.
Somehow, her mind went back to the ghosts stories that had circulated over the years about the dilapidated house. She had always avoided walking this way by night, but tonight was unavoidable. The alternative was a very very long way she was not going to risk this night. This short-distance risk was better.
Even as her mind conjured the image of a white ghost floating out and blocking her path, she focused on the ground hastened her steps.
Then a sudden movement caught her attention. Her heart skipped a beat. She looked up suddenly and there it was–a hooded figure, not the kind of ghost she was expecting.
But he stood in her path, unbothered by the rain or wind, using the night as a mask.
Biola’s heart began a lonely race.
She took a quick step backwards. He took two sure steps forward and was soon upon her.
Before she could decide on what next to do, he was already reaching out for her. When he hands made contact with her arm, she shivered to the bone. It was not the rain, no rain can make a person this cold. He was the definition of cold.
His cold hand closed around her arm and he deftly swooped down on her. Before the first sound could escape her throat, he was shoving a smelly cloth into her mouth, his forearm was choking her throat and pinning her body down, while his other hand was roaming her lower body, trying to find its way around.
She soon found that struggling was futile and when he finally succedded in pulling off the hook to her trouser, she thought the she was going to die.
But she didn’t. She was fully awake. Fully aware.
The weight of his body pinned her lower body down while his arm still choked her. Her flailing arms were soon subdued and placed above her neck as he resumedpinning it down. She could taste death, sickness, poverty and hell on the cloth in her mouth.
Then he pulled down her trouser roughly, down to her knees. She had never felt someone that strong. But he was.
Then he paused. She felt hope, maybe he was going to change is mind…
Maybe he realised this was a bad thing.
When he ripped her panties off and grunted, the first tears fell from her eyes but it was soon lost in the pool of tears falling from the sky as she also wept for her.
When his cold fingers finally touched her, they were soft and gentle. Uncontrollably, she felt her body come alive.
He felt it too, and grunted as he came down hard on her, ravishing every inch of her until there was nothing left of her.
Five long minutes… Few seconds from forever and he was done.
He got up and slithered back into the shadows and left her to pick up the pieces he had broken on the cold floor right in front of the ghost house.
He left her a souvenir–the cloth shoved down her throat.
