Number Fifty Four

woman portrait

(Trigger warnings.  This isn’t pleasant ;) )

I could see the consciousness return to her body.  I knew she’d be mostly lucid since she was waking from normal sleep, the effects of the drug having long since worn off.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Huh?  What?  Where am I?  Who…?”

She was till blurry, but the confusion was to be expected.  She was wrapped up in blankets on the cold soil, the rows of corn seeming to radiate infinitely from our position.

“I.. I can’t move.  I can’t move!  Where am I?”

“Shh, shh,” I said.  “You’re fine, but I had to, you know, bind you so you wouldn’t bolt and hurt yourself.  You’ll be free soon.”

“Who are you?  You didn’t…?”

“Rape you?” I asked.  “No, of course not.  You’re still fully clothed, can’t you tell? No, I didn’t rape you and I promise I won’t.  No, that’s not why you’re here.”

She screamed.

“What was that about?  You’re just wasting energy,” I said.

I reached over and propped her up.  She could sit easily enough, but of course couldn’t push with her hands tied up.  Her tear rimmed eyes were round as she watched me, unable to do more than squirm when I touched her.  I looked deeply into those round eyes.

“Stay away from me, you psychopath.  Stay away!”

“Psychopath?  Maybe.  But just try to calm down a little it’ll all be easier.  I know.  I’ve done this before.”

I captured the eyes and made them hold onto mine.  Her eyes changed and I saw myself.  It’s always a shock.  I know what I look like, and I know how others see me, yet every time I see myself through their eyes I jump.  That can’t be me!  But I know it is.

I could feel her mind struggling as it grew aware of my presence.  She was trying to push me out, but didn’t know how.  Having done this many times, I find ways to stay, to take control, to become her.  She was still there, of course.  It wouldn’t do if she were gone, now would it?  No, I needed her.  I let myself submerge into her mind until it felt like just her.  She relaxed internally, but tensed her muscles.  It was back to a physical fight, not mental.  I suggested she had just imagined the intrusion and she accepted it.  I continued to calm her.   Putting my own body on automation I watched from her vantage.

The strange man reached into a bag she/I hadn’t noticed.  He pulled out a large knife.  She/I struggled, but it just made the cords bind tighter.

“Calm down, my dear, and you’ll soon be free,” the hideous man said.

She/I tried harder, but only succeeded in falling.  She/I rolled, but the corn stopped us.  A hand roughly pushed over to face up, face into the monster’s eyes.  There was a flash of metal and pain.  She/I could feel the life pumping away.  She/I could feel the darkness coming.  She/I…

I was back looking out of my own eyes at the cold, staring eyes of the woman.  With a last spasm she was gone.  I had tried to stay until the end, but I couldn’t.  This was the fifty fourth time and I have never been able to stay until the end.  I wanted to know, I had to know how it felt, if anything happened afterwards, yet every time I was flung back before the last few moments were complete.

For a second the thought of letting the police catch me and forcing them to take me out crossed my mind.  I’d know then.  I’d know.

But I didn’t want to die, just know what it was like to do it.  I had to know.  I must know!

I’d find someone else and try again.  Someday I’d know.  Someday it would work.  I just had to keep trying.  Number Fifty Five wouldn’t be far behind.


10 thoughts on “Number Fifty Four

  1. Pingback: If We Were Having Coffee on the 5th of November, 2016 | Trent's World (the Blog)

    1. trentpmcd Post author

      Hmm, just found this in spam. I thought I already replied to it. Anyway, since the bad guy in the story doesn’t know where you live, you most likely won’t be #55 ;)



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