Kidnapped
Nairobi, Kenya;
Sophie left the Carnivore at 6:30 p.m.
and decided to walk home, a fifteen-minute walk away.
Everywhere, and
in all directions, people walked and talked – life a beehive of human activity
– going about their lives like there’s nothing going.
Glancing around,
as though to make sure she was safe, she realized that there’s still enough
light to qualify the time as daytime. Despite the security measures she’d been
told to observe – to be more aware of her surroundings, not to be Facebooking
and tweeting or listening to music while walking – she plugged her iPod
earphone buds to her ears (her foible) and also gave way to the temptation of
Facebooking as she ambled home.
She walked on,
Rihanna’s Russian Roulette playing to
her ears, at the same time chatting on FB, liking what her friends posted and
sharing their pictures as she commented on their status after writing gibberish
electronic social graffiti on their walls.
Sophie was
completely unaware of the two men following her. She took a narrow street, a
shortcut, and found herself walking alone. She looked back and saw the two men,
but she was closer to her destination; home.
She didn’t feel concerned at first, not until
she glanced over her right shoulder and saw the men running, catching up on
her, closing in. Within no time they were onto her. One of the men slammed her
to a wall, and before she could scream, an adhesive tape was stuck to her lips
sealing them as though to keep a secret. Plastic cables lashed her wrists and
legs together.
A sharp prick on
her neck, as that of a hypodermic, brought a thick drapery of darkness that
festooned her vision.
Sophie came to
four hours later. She was lying on a bed, her arms tied and anchored behind her
head. Her legs too were roped to the metal frame of the bed. And then she made
another discovery – she was naked, a white sheet draped between her legs.
A new kind of
fear swept through her like a cold fire and she started to pass out. She
couldn’t be hundred percent sure, but it felt like so – she had been
over-raped.
She tried to
survey the room – it was odd, everything seemingly rustic. That was it – she’s
was at somewhere no one would find her. The only way was to talk her way out of
this nightmare, to survive, to live to fight another day. As all this went
through her mind, she realized that she was not alone.
“Hello,
beautiful,” a hoarse male voice said. “Ain’t it kinda wonderfully romantic?”
That’s when
realization tumbled onto her like a ton of a thousand bricks.
She knew that
voice, knew it very well.
It was her
disgruntled lover. He’d been stalking her, threatening her if she didn’t give
in to his advances (in his wildest wet dreams), driving her crazy.
Well, she’d play
by his rules if she wanted to get out of this nightmare. Sleep with the much
loathed enemy; even sell part of her soul to the devil himself.
“See, Willy, I
could do what you want. You know you don’t have to do this,” Sophie said
desperately. “Sorry I have been a bitch, playing hard to get. It was just a
game.”
But she had a
plan. Once she had the opportunity, she’d kick him in the balls, where it hurt
most. She knew enough judo to disable him, as big as he was. Then she’d run
like hell – for her life.
“You don’t seem
to understand, do you?” Willy said. “This is a game, too.”
With that, Willy
tore away the sheet between her legs and forced himself inside her for the
umpteenth time. He raped her for hours until she could take no more, then
climbed off her.
“Yes, you could
do what I want, but would you do it?” Willy asked her. “The game has just
started. It’s you whom I want. Let’s give dad a call, perhaps he’ll make us
rich.”
“Please,” Sophie
pleaded. “My father will give you whatever you want. Just let me go.”
“That’s the
spirit, dear,” Willy snorted. “Dad’s gonna pay your dowry, then we elope.”
This time round,
Sophie threw up.
Copyright ©Vincent de Paul, 2012.
Comments
Post a Comment
Did you like the story? Leave me your thoughts, please. Thank you!!!