Page 8

I wake up in my car with the worst headache. My entire body hurts as I shift in the seat and adjust to the bright morning sun shining through the windows of my Kia. I look down, and confusion takes over my expression.

Broken glass litters the interior. My passenger window is shattered.

What happened?

What the fuck am I wearing?

Why does everything hurt?

My throat feels raw, and it hurts to swallow.

I am dressed in men’s boxers and a large T-shirt with no shoes. “What happened to my clothes?” I mutter to myself as I try to piece together the fucked-up image that is starting to form in my mind.

Ugh! My head is fucking killing me…

What happened last night?

Where the fuck am I?

I look around and realize I am in the old parking structure a few blocks from my house. Glancing around I find my keys and phone in the cup holder of the car. My purse is on the seat next to me, and the contents are spilled out over the car’s floor between pieces of the shattered window.

Weird.

Was I mugged?

Did I hit my head?

My phone is dead, and the screen is cracked beyond repair.

Fuck!

I inhale in a deep breath, start the engine, and pull out of the parking lot.

What the hell happened last night?

I remember going into the grocery store, grabbing a few things from the store, and feeling like I was being followed.

I need aspirin and water.

I make it to my house and park in my driveway before heading inside. “I need to get the window fixed as soon as possible…” I mumble, making my way into my tiny kitchen. I turn on the faucet, fill a tall glass with water, and down it quickly. I fill it again before popping a couple of pain tablets.

I just need to lie down for a bit, and I’ll feel better. Hopefully.

I survey my kitchen and search for something to eat. The only items in my cupboard are some boxes of oatmeal and a handful of tea bags. My pantry is almost entirely bare, leaving me feeling panicked over what the hell happened last night.

What the fuck?

I don’t remember ever coming home.

I went to the store yesterday… didn’t I? I’m sure I did…

Did I bring the bags inside, or are they still in the car?

I stumble back outside and head toward the car. Popping the trunk, I sigh in disbelief. My groceries are still here. The ice cream has melted all over the inside of my car, and the other frozen food has defrosted.

Ugh! Fuck my life!

As I stand there staring at the mess, I start to remember bits and pieces of last night. I remember walking to my car with the grocery bags in my hands and driving towards my house…then everything became a blur.

The sudden realization hits me like a ton of bricks.

Someone was in the backseat…

I was drugged.

I… I remember masks…

I remember them and their last words before I was knocked out cold: “Sorry, little dove. It’s time you try to fly back to your normal life, but not before we clip your wings.”

What did they do to me?

The memories from the last twenty-four hours invade my mind at full force. My vision starts to dot as I try to collect my thoughts, but it’s no use, and this fucking headache is getting worse.

I clean out the trunk and take the unspoiled bags of groceries inside, placing them on the kitchen counter before I meander to the bedroom and fall onto my bed with a loud, frustrated sigh.

I stretch out on the bed and place my arm over my forehead in an effort to block out the morning sun. As I lay there, my mind wanders, and a sense of desire fills my body.

Images of two men in masks flash in my head, white and black.

Fintan and Kieran.

My body tingles thinking about them. A small smile ghosts my lips before I roll over and close my eyes.

I need to shower and get dressed. Perhaps then I can think about everything that happened last night.

As I lay there with my eyes closed, my subconscious wanders back to the hours of dirty, filthy, terrifying sex that I was a part of.

They made me feel alive. They fucked me without mercy, and they made me feel like I belonged to them. The image of their cocks looming over me flashes across my mind, and just thinking about the way they felt buried deep inside me as they fucked me senseless has my pussy pulsing with need.

I need to find them.

Why did they drug me and leave me back in that parking lot?

Was that part of Molly’s instructions when she hired them, or did they break the rules by fucking me?

She should have a way to contact them.

I instinctively feel around my body, and my fingers brush the cuts. I wince as I peel off the large T-shirt and stare at the markings all over my body in the full-length mirror beside my bed. I was definitely not imagining last night; they are real, and they claimed me.

Marked me .

On my way to Molly’s apartment, I stopped to get a new phone and have the guy at the store set it up for me. He warned me that it would take a while before messages or notifications popped up while it boots and that I was lucky the interior components of my old phone were not damaged.

My heart thumps as I walk up and knock on the front door. I need to tell her about my fake kidnapping, everything that happened with them, and hear how her date with Joel went. I can’t believe the night I had with Fintan and Kieran; it was fucking terrifying—but the orgasms were earth-shattering.

Fuck, I wish I knew their real names. I wish I could see their faces… I need to find them!

They dominated and claimed me. They were dark, twisted, and fucked up. Part of me feels violated, humiliated, and literally scarred , but I also feel fulfilled.

The door opens, but instead of being embraced by my best friend’s cheerful face as I was expecting, I’m met with Joel’s worried, angry expression.

God, did he spend the night? How well did their date go?

Thankfully, Joel’s expression softens, and he hurriedly hugs me.

“Oh, thank God you’re safe. We were worried sick!

” I’m confused and alarmed by his behavior and flinch at his touch as his hand brushes over one of the many fresh scars.

Molly’s eyes are red from crying, and her lips tremble as if she can’t believe what she sees.

Finally, she croaks out a question that jolts me back into reality: “Where were you last night?”

I answer, disoriented by the question, “The uhm… The thing you planned for me was last night… Don’t you remember? Those actors you hired—“ Her face morphs into an expression of pure horror.

“I didn’t hire anyone, Alex. Joel…he told me not to,” Molly stutters, her voice laced with panic.

“You told him?! That was my deepest, darkest fantasy! How could you?” I cross my arms over my chest as she flashes me a pained, guilty look. Joel steps toward me and looks me up and down with white-hot anger blazing in his gaze.

“As soon as she told me what you two were planning, I made her promise not to follow through. This idiotic ‘fake kidnapping’ fantasy shit was planned for next weekend. Over my dead body! There’s no way in fucking hell I’m letting you do something so stupid—fake or not,“ Joel growls as he slams his fist into the door beside my head.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you want to put yourself in that kind of danger?!”

The world crumbles around me as everything from last night comes into question. “Wait… What? What are you talking about? The kidnapping was last night! “ I hiss at Molly, my confusion and sudden anxiety getting the best of me.

“T-they mentioned having a…a list of ideas you gave them…” I stutter, frantically flicking my gaze between them.

Molly’s eyes widen as she audibly swallows through her erratic breaths, “They?! I didn’t even get that far, Lexi… I didn’t give the company any details. Joel stopped me before I could send them anything other than the initial email asking for availability…”

They share a look, and their eyes widen as their gazes fall back on mine. They don’t say a single word. My perception of time slows down, and the memories of my crazy night are now shrouded in uncertainty and horror.

I thought…

Wait…

Molly didn’t hire them?

Who…?

What the fuck?!

My phone buzzes. It’s a message from an unknown number. Attached to it is a link to a video file. Molly and Joel watch as I unlock the message with shaky hands.

“What is it, Alex?” Molly asks, stepping closer. I take a step backward as my mind reels at the attachment.

I don’t remember this… Oh my god! They filmed it. I was drugged. They fucked me and cut me while I was unconscious!

Fintan’s once-white mask is stained red as he paints himself in my blood.

God, I’m going to be sick.

My heavy breaths get stuck in my throat as the camera zooms in and focuses on my back.

Kieran is carving their names into my lower back while Fintan holds the camera and fucks my mouth—his free hand holding my head up by my hair.

His piercings must have caused the raw feeling…

My stomach churns as I tap out of the video before I see any more of it. I can’t.

I scroll past the video, and my expression pales as I read the message.

They’re typing again. My heart thunders wildly as I wait for more horrific messages to flood my phone.

Should I respond?

Maybe I should go to the cops…

Instantly, I feel faint as the memories of last night shatter like glass as I realize the true danger I was in. Everything could have gone terribly wrong at any time, and I’d have never known it was real .

They know my name.

They have my number.

What else do they know about me?

Do they know where I live?

The End…

Thank you for reading this experimental short story. I hope you had fun! Till next time, stay spooky!

~T.D. Craft