"You were partying in here with that young man. Surely you can do better." He pulled a ring off and held it out. "Here. Take this as a token. There will be much more if you come with me."
"Tommy!" Kirsten yelled. She slapped at him and the ring bounced into the darkness of one of the corners of the room.
The man's smile was gone, his lips now a dark slash' "Do not yell. It is very impolite."
"I want to go!" Kirsten insisted. But she didn't move, because he didn't move.
He put the vial in his shirt pocket. He pulled out a pair of thick gloves and slid them on, over the rings on his fingers. His hand went to his waist and pulled out a knife. A long, strangely curved knife.
"Would you like to go to my party?" he asked in the same even voice. "Make your decision now."
"No," Kirsten whispered.
"You are very stupid," the man said. "You could have a very nice time. Others have."
"I want to go home."
"Last chance."
"I want to go home. Please."
"Drop the blanket."
Kirsten's fingers tightened on the rough wool.
"Drop the blanket and we will go into the courtyard and talk with your friend."
Kirsten forced herself to let go of the blanket.
The smile was back on his face. "Very good. Now come with me."
"I'm not going anywhere with you."
"Last chance," the man said. "Come with me."
Kirsten backed up. "No."
"Then we will do this another way. Either way, it will be done." The man's voice was irritated. "Take your clothes off."
"No," she said in a low voice.
"To this you have no choice," he said. "You will either take them off and live or I will kill you with them on. Do as I say and you will not be hurt."
Kirsten believed him, at least that he would kill her if she didn't strip. She stared at the blade, trying to see if there was blood on it, Tommy's blood, but it seemed to be clean, the blade clearly reflecting a sliver of moonlight.
The man took one step forward. "Now."
She hesitated and the blade flashed in front of her and she gasped as a line of fire ran down the left side of her face. She reached a hand up and pulled it away. It was covered in blood.
"Nothing major," the man said. "It will heal. Do as I say and we won't have to do that again."
Kirsten pulled her sweater off. She watched her own fingers unbuttoning her blouse, surprised in a distant sort of way how steady they were. Why weren't they shaking? she wondered. She could feel dampness on her cheek but no pain.
She was wearing a black bra, a decision she had made knowing that Tommy and her would be coming up here and how much he liked it and also how he could handle unhooking it in the front. Tommy had gotten very frustrated and embarrassed when he couldn't unhook one of her other ones, and his resulting anger, trying to cover for his real feelings, had ruined the evening. So she'd worn this one so the evening wouldn't be ruined.
She unhooked it. The cloth fell away, exposing her small, pointy breasts. The man had not moved again once she started undressing and there was no sign that he took any interest in her nakedness as she pulled her jeans down. She unbuckled her belt and unzipped her jeans, then pushed them down before pausing. She'd forgotten to take her sneakers off and her jeans were bunched at her feet.
"Go to the window," the man said.
She bent over to pull her sneakers off, but the man repeated his order.
"Go the window. Now!"
She shuffled over, arms crossed on her chest, until she was facing the window. She could feel goose bumps on her naked skin. She could see the entire courtyard now and she saw a dark lump on the ground about thirty feet away. Tommy! He wasn't moving.
"Put your hands on the windowsill."
She could tell from the voice that he was right behind her. She put her palms on the grimy wood.
She flinched as she felt the point of the knife touch the outside of her left hip.
"Back with your feet."
She shuffled her feet back until the knifepoint on her left buttock stopped her. Now she couldn't move, half bent over, her weight caught between her feet and her hands on the sill. She didn't know it, but it was the way police and counterterrorism experts were taught to search a suspect, putting them in a position where if they removed either hand from their forward support, they would fall over.
She heard some noises behind her. She knew she was going to be raped. Beyond that, her mind refused to go. She focused on Tommy's body lying on the stones. Was he dead?
Something looped over her head and she gasped. The man tightened her blouse down over her mouth. She felt the cloth with her tongue as he tied a knot on the back of her head. She panicked, sucking air in through her nose.
Then she felt a hand on her rear, holding her steady. She closed her eyes. Tommy and she had used this position before and she knew what to expect
Or so she thought. She gasped with pain as the man's cock rammed up against her anus. Tears flowed as he vigorously pushed in. Tommy had never done this and she felt as if she'd been skewered. Through her pain, one thought flashed: Did this man have AIDS?
She opened her eyes and blinked out the tears. Her heart jumped. She saw Tommy move. An arm stretching out then the body twitching and shaking.
The man behind her was slamming against her and she had to hold on with all her strength to avoid going down to her knees. She could feel the flat steel of his knife slapping against her right side with every stroke. The pain of his thrusts was terrible but also distant in a strange way.
Tommy was on his knees now, shaking his head. She could see darkness on his face. Blood. Tommy stood and peered about, getting his bearings. Kirsten tried to scream, but the sound was caught in her blouse and all that came forth was a mewling noise.
Tommy froze, his eyes locked into the window. Kirsten met his gaze and she knew he saw her. Saw what was happening to her and the blood on her own face. Tommy looked about, then picked up a piece of two-by-four and came striding forward.
Kirsten wanted to look over her shoulder and see if the man had spotted Tommy, but she dared not. There was no sign that he had, as his rhythm was getting faster, his breathing rough.
Tommy was ten feet away now. Five feet. She could see his face, the anger on it. The blood running down one side.
Then Tommy's head exploded, blood and brain bursting forth, splattering Kirsten with gore. Half of the head was gone as the body tumbled forward lifeless to lie right below her, outside the windowsill.
The man had begun coming as Tommy's body fell. The man slammed against Kirsten, pinning her against the windowsill, grunting in pleasure. She hardly noticed; what sanity she had left was focused entirely on Tommy's body. There had been no sound of a shot, but there was no doubt in her mind that that was what had happened. She looked up, across the courtyard, but could see nothing. It was like a movie, unreal. Tommy had fallen in slow motion. Even the pain in her rear was so far away now.
A voice — a man's voice — echoed in the courtyard, coming from the other side, calling out to the man behind her in a strange tongue, one she had never heard before.
She barely felt his hand reaching around her, his body pressed even more tightly against her back. The hand had the vial in it and the lid was off. He pressed it against her nostrils. With her mouth gagged, her next breath in sucked up the contents.
She felt the man step back from her, the cool evening air against her naked back. Then a spear of pain pierced her from the base of her skull to the small of her back. Her body snapped upright so quickly, bones cracked. She struggled for air, but her lungs wouldn't work. Her eyes bulged forward, blood seeping out around the edges. Her fingers grabbed at the dirty windowsill so hard her nails broke, leaving bloody streaks on the wood.