Consequences of the Night

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
What happens to this one unfortunate young girl after a night of partying she can't remember?

Submitted: July 30, 2016

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Submitted: July 30, 2016




During the day, Denver, Colorado is a quiet town full of hipsters and young lovers, but at night, when the party girls come out to play so does the devil and his playmates. Sometimes the nighttime fun carries over to the day’s solitude, just as it did on this particular day.


In a hotel 20 minutes north of downtown Denver, on the cities outskirts, a young red-headed beauty is in a room all alone, sleeping. Only it’s not as peaceful as it sounds. The 20- something- year- old woman in that room is handcuffed to the bed poles with her mouth sealed with duct tape, her hair matted and blood caked to her forehead. Surely, last night she had just a little too much fun.


As the morning sun rises, light shines through into the young woman's face, causing her to stir. After many moments pass, she begins to blink, eventually fully opening her eyes for the first time, revealing piercing green eyes. Looking around the room the young lady studies her surroundings, faithfully trying to understand exactly how she got to be here. It’s quite amazing actually how even though she’s been awake for five minutes, she has yet to realize the highly interesting predicament that she is in. It’s only when she goes to sit up that she realizes not only is that not an option but that she is completely covered in bruises reminiscent of a chemistry experiment failed. Navy centers with mauve and black creeping towards the edges, even gnarlier when you take in the sheer amount. The marks that start around her ankles up to her exposed hip bone, leaves her looking more like a galactic painting than the alabaster she is.


Learning not only is she chained to a bed in a strange room but that she has been manhandled by whoever brought her there, causes the party girl to panic. Although she doesn’t make as much noise as she had hoped, as her mouth is still sealed shut. No one comes. No one is coming to save her. She seems to have decided that the next best thing to do is figure out exactly what happened the night before. Maybe she can remember how or who started all of this. The problem lies in the fact that no matter how she tries to concentrate on the activities of the previous night, her memory is hazy at best. Truth is, she only can clearly recall two things: one, she left her condo with an old friend around six, and two, that she had got so blistering drunk that she went home with some guy she didn't know. He told her, "Don't worry darlin'. I'll take good care of you." His southern drawl sent chills down her spine, yet she went with him anyway. Was he the one who brought her here?


A moment later her questions were answered; as a man came out of the bathroom, standing such a height that even a basketball player would have to look up to him. His dark brown hair slicked back and tucked behind his ears. As he stands in the bathroom doorway, he seems not to notice the red-haired beauty on the bed across the room. With her mouth still covered in duct tape, she moans wildly, kicking the bed, trying desperately to get his attention. And that she did. The noise seemed to bring the mystery man out of his reverie, looking annoyed at being disturbed. Turning his head so he looked right at her, he smiled a smile so nasty, yellowing with two teeth missing, the kind of smile one only got from a twisted type of joy. Suddenly she felt, that the center of this man’s attention was not the place to be.


The man calmly crosses the small room, that twisted grin never leaving his face, and rips the duct tape off her mouth. This caused her to cry a scream one could only pair with the sounds of murder. Grabbing her face, with his nails digging into her skin, he brings himself down and kisses her. Her wails and protests go seemingly unnoticed as he continues to kiss her; after a while, she decides there is no point and gives up her attempts at protest. When he finally lift his face from hers, he keeps a firm grip on her face, staring into her eyes, telling her, “You’re mine now.” He spoke in the same slow drawl as the man that inflicted fear from the night before. It was him. He brought her here from the club; he beat her, but why?


Running along rugged rotten fingernail down the side of her face grazing her jaw the mystery man says, "You’re a fighter, and even all bruised and bloody like this you are so pretty. Oh yes, I'll make a criminal out of you yet."


He moves to where he is standing right beside her, leans down and whispers in her ear, "Pretty girls like you really shouldn't be out so late. But no worries I'll teach you how to be a good girl then I'll train you to be a con."


He straightens himself and slides his nail down  her cheek once more yet this time when he reached the bottom of her raw she felt a pressure as he dragged his nail across the base. It wasn’t until he lifted his finger from her skin that she realized, he had used his nail to cut into her skin from her ear down to her chin. They both knew that this was a cut that needed to be stitched up. Leaving her bleeding, he walks away from the girl.


"If you leave me here like this, I'll bleed to death.Then you won’t have any use of me." The girl croaked.


"Not before I get back you won't. I wouldn't dare kill my new protege." With that, he turned and slammed the door behind him.


The girl begins to cry, coming to the realization that she would be paying for whatever she did last night for the rest of her life.

© Copyright 2018 TalMurra. All rights reserved.

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