This post is later than I usually plan to publish them, but was unsure what the post would be today, until I listened to a song and heard a few words that inspired my short story. The words that I heard were, “….in a short black dress.”
This then came with questions. Where was this woman? What were her intentions? Was she the victim of the assailant?
These questions had answers and led to this short tale. I managed to write this up on my phone with little editing, but the idea has stuck with me, so who knows if there is a feature length horror story in me. Please let me know what you think.
*On a side note, beware of the barrage of likes and comments on the blogs that I follow as I will be catching up in the next couple of days.
Faye walked along the halls in a silky black dress, the hem swaying over her thighs as her curves danced in the moonlight. The sound of her heels echoed throughout, the arched stained glass windows offering enough light to focus on the wooden door in front of her. The round metal door knob was cool to touch, and with a quick glance over her shoulder, she pushed the door open and snuck in with a delicate grace.
The room was how she had left it; cool, dimly lit and deathly. The light source came from a lamp on a wooden desk in the corner of the room, illuminating the concrete walls and the wooden floorboards that ran the length of the room. At the centre of the room, a wooden chair was placed with Jacob Bligh sitting tight.
Faye rested against the door and regarded him as she bit her lip. The beautiful smile he charmed her with had been covered with a ball gag and rope, the short silver locks that suited him so well had been shorn to reveal a scarred scalp. Jacob’s expensive suit was removed, left to soak in the blood from the cuts over his chest, the tin bucket with the contents in the corner of the room. Faye had protected his modesty and allowed him to continue to wear his underwear.
Faye moved toward the limp and disoriented Jacob, straddled him and ran her fingers along the rope that tied him to the chair. His head jerked back, eyes open with the only response being a vacant stare. Faye brushed up against him, feeling the bulge beneath his underwear brush against her laced panties, the power she held arousing her.
“Once the drug wears off, dear Jakey, we will have some fun,” Faye whispered to him, her mouth close to his ear. “But first, I must punish you, for being such a naughty little liar.”
Faye dabbed him on the nose as if playfully reprimanding a child, then reached down in to the duffel bag that was left open by the side of the chair, pulled out a small hammer and two nails. She danced it in front of his eyes and laughed, the maniacal sound echoing around the room. Delicately, Faye placed a nail at the centre of the back of his hand, rested the head of the hammer against the nail and with one swift motion, pounded it into his skin.
Jacob jerked back, a scream muffled by the gag in his mouth, as the nail plunged into his hand and into the cheap wooden arm of the chair. Faye laughed once more, the sound of his distress a pleasure to her ears. She always loved to punish her victims in such a manner, but Jacob was a very special man. He was the love of her life, the man every women in the office block desired. It would be the last time such a man lied to her, breaking her heart in such a cruel fashion, leaving her in the rain as he drank the night away with his friends. Women like Faye was never one to tolerate being stood up. The emotional pain came flooding back, Faye screaming at the thought, placing the nail on the opposite hand and pounding it hard into his flesh.
Jacob screamed once more, followed by the laugh of Faye and the sound of the hammer dropping to the floor.
The night had just started, and Faye was looking forward to the main course.