She Will Be Mine

Prologue

The night was dark and quiet on that one fateful morning. It appeared just like any other morning would, with birds chirping and animals scouring the ground for a small breakfast or snack. The wind was blowing softly through the trees, rustling leaves and letting them flutter to the ground. They created their own dance and twisted around each other as they allowed gravity to hold them to the earth.
The streetlamps shined proudly over the street; guarding the world from the darkness just beyond them. One would flicker here and there, and another would respond, communicating in their own way, enjoying the world as it slowly began to wake up. A cat walked under a streetlamp and proceeded to a morning bath. It roamed up and down the street, sniffing at the ground and the world. A stick cracked behind her, and she took off running. No one was safe in the morning air.
* * *
A man walked down the silent street, dancing under the streetlamps, enjoying the solitude. His heels cracked under the pavement, making him jump ever so often. Sticks cracked as the sole of his shoe made contact with the pavement. He tried to walk lightly on his toes, afraid to make too much noise in the early morning air. The birds began to sing a soft and sweet melody. The world slept by, completely unaware of what was just about to happen.
The man continued to walk down the silent street, breathing slowly. He pulled a pair of latex gloves out of his jacket pocket, and pulled with on with a practiced skill. He was ready for this night. He had been preparing for this night, and nothing was going to make him fail.
The houses seemed to stare at the man as he walked down their street. The shadows they casted threw more darkness at him, but the man walked on. A hat rested upon his head, tilted halfhazardly resting. His jacket was pure black, with a small tear in the left elbow. His beard was made of little bits of stubble, like he had not had the time to shave that morning. He was the master of disguise. He was moving silent as a ghost. Ready to attack anyone that dared to jeopardize this mission.
When he finally reached his destination, he turned to face the apartment that loomed in front of him. It was simple enough, with need of a touch up here or there. The paint was peeling off the front porch, and the railing was sagging after years of use. But it was a classic Victorian, and therefore one of the most coveted apartments in the whole city. The chimney stood tall and proud at the top, as if defying the odds of its existence for so long. Smoke curled out of the top, and fanned out towards the sky.
Windows seemed to stare out at the man as he walked towards the white picket fence that encircled the building. He scaled it easily, and paused for any movement around him. Looking both ways, the man saw that his path was a clear one. He walked towards the front door, but then turned and slithered into the alley next to the house. He jumped over garbage cans, and walked around boxes of thrown away things. He paid no attention to the cat that watched him from the windowsill of the next house, or the old lady that hid in the shadows behind it.
With a practiced skill he looked for the fire escape. He jumped onto a dumpster and pulled the ladder down, all without making a sound. Scaling it, he made it to the roof of the apartment, and his entrance point.
Walking towards the chimney, he turned his attention to the opening of the attic. Pulling a black ski mask, he grabbed a screwdriver out of his back pocket and began the stealthy job of removing the screws from the cover. Once they were disposed of, he neatly replaced the screwdriver in its position and rubbed his hands together in glee. This is too easy, he thought to himself as he took the cover off the roof and slid into the attic. He coughed as dust flew into his face, but moved on quickly. Finding the stairwell the led into the main area of the apartment, he walked down and continued on his real mission.
He found her bedroom easily. She was sleeping without a care in the world. Leaving her there, he walked around the remainder of the apartment, and seeing no one was there, he returned to her to finish his job. Walking over to her bed, he smiled at her pure beauty.
The man hovered over his victim like a lion ready for the kill. He smiled maliciously as he watched her sleep. She was so innocent, so easy. He had been dreaming of this day since he first laid eyes on her those many years ago. His 6 foot frame cast a long shadow over hers. He moved around her, causing no noise. He relished in the moment that he had here. No one knew he was here, and no one would.
He sat next to the beautiful women that would be his next and final victim. He watched as she lay there in her bed, as she inhaled and exhaled to a steady continuous rhythm. After tonight, they would never be apart again. His plans were too thorough to fail now that he had come so far. Chuckling at the simplicity of this whole act, he walked to the foot of the bed. He carefully laid out his tools on the bedspread before him. His knife glistened in the moonlight that filtered through the window.
She stirred suddenly, and he paused, his heart in his throat. She pivoted in the bed, and once again was sound asleep. He smiled at her naivety. How clueless she had been! He had been watching her all evening, all week, and even she had not detected a thing. That just shows how wrong she really was about this whole thing. He had been toying with her and her friends for months, tying them up in knots over the whole thing, and not once did they have the upper hand in any of it.
He caressed her foot as it hung over the footboard, completely relaxed. He traced the wrinkles that followed the bottom. She is so beautiful, he thought to himself, and she is all mine.
Smiling, he unwound the rope tied to his belt. His hands were hardened from years of practice. With an effortless action, he thrust his hands around her waist, and grabbed her wrists. She didn't move. He carefully lifted her up and fastened her hands behind her before flipping her on the bed. The women must sleep like a rock, he thought as he continued his action. His next object was her feet. Carefully, so to not disturb her, he took out his wire. He used his knife to cut a sizable amount, and then wrapped it so her ankles were bound together in a manner only he could undo. The women dreamt on. Reaching into his black khaki pants, he pulled out a clear liquid in a small bottle. It was thick and gel like, and swiftly he opened the bottle and poured some into the cloth he held in his other hand.
Crawling onto the bed once more, he leaned over his victim. He smiled above her, and without moving, he just stared at her. For minutes at a time, he hovered over her, knowing at one point she would awake. And when she did, he would be ready for her. He marveled at how her hair shimmered in just the right light, letting the tell-tale red sneak into it. He had always admired her red hair, and now seeing it so close up his breath was taken away by it. He gently stroked her shoulders, loving how her arms lit up in goosebumps when he touched her. She pivoted in the bed, so that she was facing him again. She smiled, as if in a good dream, and he longed to see those eyes open. He was so happy that he would be the first thing she saw.
She did awake, and when she saw the black frame hovering above her, her first instinct was to scream. She didn't even get that far.
As soon as her eyes flashed open and fear registered, the man made his move. Leaning towards her he brought their lips together. She grunted and tried to move her hands, and, realizing where they were, she instead tried to move her body away from him. He smiled against her in satisfaction. Carefully, he moved his hands to her shoulders. With ambition and drive, he kissed her deeper. She tried to bite him, but he was too strong. His tongue parted her teeth, and she was powerless to fight him.
After he had had his fun, he slowly crawled off of her. "There is more where that came from Darling," he called her, allowing his Southern accent to creep through. "I have much more planned for us," he smiled as he gathered his materials and prepared the cloth.
"You monster," she spit at him, hatred oozing from her eyes. She finally could place him. She knew who he was. Her job was done. She tried to move her body to one part of the bed, but he moved faster.
"Not so fast Darling," he whispered as he pulled her ankles toward him. "You aren't getting away that easily." She struggled, but he brought his cloth up to her nose and mouth.
She began to panic. This was not the way it was supposed to go. She wasn't prepared for this! Her pager lay a mere 3 feet away. If she could only reach it, she could alert the help that was only a house away. She pushed against him, tried to get the upper hand, but it was useless. As the chloroform began to affect her, her vision blurred. She was losing energy, and she knew that soon the fight would be over. As her eyes closed against her will, panic registered in her mind.
After her body became limp in his arms, he let out a small laugh. She was never going to learn was she? He thought gleefully. They really made this whole thing too easy, he thought again as he held her in his arms.
Wrapping her up in his arms, he carried her to the window. Placing her on the sill, he climbed out. Grabbing her out of the first story window, he carried her over to his black unmarked van, threw her in and drove off.
* * *
​A cat meowed from the neighboring house. It sat in the windowsill, watching as the black van drove off like it was on fire. The cat's owner sat in a brown leather couch next to the sill, completely asleep. A pager lay on the desk next to her, but she had been asleep for the whole encounter. The plan had failed, and along with that, had the escape route. The man had taken her out of her home, and the one person that was supposed to keep guard had failed.
​The woman was gone, and no one even knew.

Part 1: The Beginning