DARK SEDUCTION

Chapter:41

As I made my way into the isolated, poorly lit area, I could feel the unnerving silence pressing in on me. The muffled sounds of the party faded into the background, leaving me alone with the shadows and the increasingly disquieting presence of the man trailing behind me. My instincts screamed to turn back, but I pushed the thought away, focusing instead on the cool breeze against my skin. That small comfort was short-lived, though, as he closed the distance between us.

"How about we skip this whole party stuff and go do something fun?" he smirked, stepping closer to me. His tone was laced with something dark, a glint of malice in his eyes. "I think I’m in love with you."

"Yeah, right," I scoffed, rolling my eyes. My heart raced, not with excitement, but with a growing sense of unease. I knew I had to put an end to this before he got any silly ideas. "Look, my boyfriend is here, and it would be wise if you excused me so I can get back to him. He’s extremely huge and possessive, and I’m sure he’s already looking for me."

His grin widened, turning wolfish. The playful facade dropped, revealing something more sinister beneath. "You and I both know that’s a lie," he said, his voice lowering into a menacing whisper. "I promise to make you feel good."

Before I could react, he suddenly lunged forward, grabbing both of my hands in his iron grip as I tried to sidestep him. Panic surged through me as I struggled against his hold, my mind racing. I screamed, my voice echoing through the empty space, but it was no use. He silenced me by leaning in, his breath reeking of alcohol and tobacco, his lips aiming for mine.

As he pressed against me, a wave of nausea hit me. I had thought Max was a sick bastard, but this man standing before me tonight was something far worse a devil’s pawn. The urge to vomit was overwhelming. If I could, I would have bleached my mouth to rid myself of the foul taste of his kiss. I was terrified, my thoughts spiraling into a dark abyss. Why me? Why wasn’t anyone coming? Tears welled up in my eyes as despair threatened to take over.

But then, a small flame of resolve sparked within me. Drawing strength from the pain I knew I would endure, I relaxed completely, waiting for the right moment. He finally pulled back, probably to gloat over his perceived victory or to see the look of defeat he expected to find on my face. That was his mistake. He let go of my hands, convinced I was enjoying his assault.

"Go to hell, you bastard!" I screamed, my voice trembling with both fear and fury. Without waiting for his reaction, I slapped him as hard as I could. The force of the impact stunned him momentarily, giving me a chance to turn and flee in the other direction.

But he was quicker than I anticipated. Recovering swiftly, he grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking me back and trapping me in place. Pain shot through my scalp, and I winced, knowing I couldn’t run without losing a chunk of my hair.

This was when true terror set in. His chuckle, dark and twisted, echoed in my ears as he leaned in once more. But by then, any sense of restraint I had was gone, discarded like the useless notion it was. He had bitten off more than he could chew, and I wasn’t going down without a fight.

Still holding my hair in a death grip, he slammed his lips against mine again. But this time, I was ready. I bit down hard on his lower lip, tasting blood as I did. He let out a pained groan, caught off guard by my ferocity. I prayed silently that he wasn’t HIV positive as I mustered all my strength and kneed him squarely in the groin. He wasn’t expecting the attack, and he crumpled to the ground, writhing in pain.

A whirlwind of emotions flooded my senses rage, hurt, disgust. I wasn’t done yet. Stooping down, I slapped him again, this time harder. My nails raked across his face, leaving angry red marks. "You bastard! How dare you force yourself on me?" I spat, my voice trembling with fury. The force of my slap caused him to crack his head on the concrete, and suddenly, he was no longer responding.

Fear gripped me as I stood over him, panting. What if I had killed him? My mind raced, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Grabbing my purse, I turned and bolted from the scene, not sparing a glance back. I had to get out of there, away from the nightmare I had just endured. I hailed a taxi, my hands shaking as I climbed in, praying silently that I hadn’t just ended a life. My DNA was all over him, and the implications of that realization sent a cold shiver down my spine.

As the taxi sped away from the scene, my thoughts turned to Max. He had been the catalyst for my terrible luck tonight, and I vowed then and there that I would make him pay for it. That was my last coherent thought before exhaustion overtook me. When I finally reached home, I collapsed into one of my dark blue velvety chairs, too tired to care about anything else.

But sleep wouldn’t come easily. I brushed my teeth over ten times, trying desperately to rid myself of the lingering taste of his kiss. I showered with water so hot it scalded my skin, all in a futile attempt to wash away his disgusting touch. But no matter what I did, I couldn’t shake the feeling of his sweaty hands on me or the gnawing fear that I might have killed someone. A shudder ripped through me, and I wished for the umpteenth time that I had just skipped the party altogether. What terrible luck. Another wave of disgust washed over me, and I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold the pieces of my shattered composure together.

The night was long and restless. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his leering face, felt his hands on me, heard his sickening laugh. My mind replayed the encounter over and over, each time worse than the last. I tossed and turned, unable to escape the memories that now haunted me. The fear, the anger, the helplessness it all mixed into a toxic cocktail that churned in my stomach, making sleep impossible.

Finally, as dawn broke and the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, I felt my body give in to sheer exhaustion. I drifted off into a troubled sleep, my mind still plagued by the horrors of the night before. But even in sleep, there was no peace. My dreams were filled with shadows and dark figures, and no matter how fast I ran, they were always right behind me, reaching out with clawed hands, their laughter echoing in the distance.

When I woke, the events of the previous night came crashing down on me with the force of a tidal wave. The fear, the disgust, the guilt it all came rushing back, and I felt like I was drowning in it. I could still feel his hands on me, his breath on my skin, his voice in my ear. I wanted to scream, to cry, to tear my own skin off just to get rid of the feeling of him.

But there was nothing I could do. I was trapped in this nightmare, and there was no escape. All I could do was sit there, curled up in my chair, and pray that the memories would eventually fade, that the horror would eventually go away.

But deep down, I knew it wouldn’t. This wasn’t something I could just forget, something I could just move on from. This was a scar that would stay with me forever, a constant reminder of the night I came face to face with the devil himself.

And as I sat there, the cold light of morning washing over me, I made a vow. I would never let this happen again. I would never let anyone have that kind of power over me again. I would fight, and I would survive, I went to shower trying the scrub away the thought of his touch from my body, the area were my skin had scrubbed against the concrete still burned , and from time to time shivers of pure disgust racked through me at the disgusting encounter I had tonight, I was not only sexually assaulted , I could easily have been raped tonight or worse still killed.