'Black and White' - The White Bridge Crime Series 2 - LGBT, manXman

11

Eli --->

He opened his eyes and found himself on a beach.

He heard the gentle whoosh of the waves hitting the sandy beach and shivered a little.

Looking around, he found himself stretched out on a large, fluffy beach towel, striped in red and green.

He was laying a little way up the beach, about one hundred yards from the sea.

He felt his discomfort ease a bit.

The water couldn't reach him here.

The sun was setting to the west, throwing pastel colours into the sky. The white horses far out to sea glittered in the dying light.

He wriggled his toes into the sand, still warm after the hot day.

He heard the soft tinkle of an ice cream van stop on the promenade behind him.

Standing up, he clambered up the steep stone steps and dug in his pocket for some change. The man in the van handed him a ninety-nine with a flake and he walked back down onto the beach.

He licked the creamy, smooth ice cream, before biting the top off the flake and chewing slowly. He walked to his beach towel, happy to sit back down, but found his legs kept walking.

It was as if his legs didn't belong to his body anymore.

He fought to stop walking, but his legs kept going, carrying him towards the sea.

He felt panic rising as he finally stopped, ten yards from the sea.

The waves sounded louder here, crashing in his ears. He felt spray whip up and hit his face, the salt stinging his eyes.

The ice cream had disappeared from his hand, but he didn't remember dropping it.

He stood staring out across the waves, unable to move; even his eyes were incapable of looking away.

To his horror, he felt his legs begin to move again.

The waves were lapping over his bare toes.

Now his ankles.

Now it was halfway up his shins.

The water was icy cold, despite the fact the day had been warm. He felt a strand of seaweed wind around his ankle, making him shudder.

And he was still walking; the water was past his knees now, wetting the bottom of his bathing shorts. The material clung to his body, sending chills down his spine.

A particularly big wave washed right up to his stomach, almost knocking him over.

He couldn't step back to steady himself.

He felt himself fall forwards, head-first into the water.

He clamped his mouth shut, fighting back the urge to scream, and felt the water crash over his head.

His eyes opened of their own accord, and he couldn't feel the sand beneath his feet anymore.

Looking around, he couldn't see the seabed.

His head broke the surface and he gulped in a breath of air thankfully, trying to ignore the saltwater stinging his eyes as he looked around helplessly.

There wasn't a speck of land in sight.

He started screaming, unable to control his fear any longer, before he felt something invisible tug hard at his ankles, dragging him under again.

Water flooded into his mouth and ran down his gullet.

He clamped his mouth shut, fighting the urge to choke and cough.

His eyes were stinging, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

How long had he been under?

Ten seconds?

Twenty?

His lungs were bursting.

He needed oxygen.

His mouth opened, gasping for air, and felt saltwater pour into his mouth.

He started choking, swallowing more water as he did so.

Oh, God.

He started screaming in his head, as there was no air left in his lungs.

I'm drowning. Someone help.

His legs started thrashing wildly, trying to propel him towards the surface.

He felt his world start to dim, the edges of his vision going black.

He opened his mouth to scream-

And found himself in his bed.

His body was slick with sweat; he could feel it trickling down his forehead, matting into his hair.

Thank God.

His head flopped back down onto his pillow as he sighed heavily.

It was just a dream.

His shivered a little, the sweat on his body cooling in the night air and chilling him.

He reached back to grab his duvet, and found his hand strapped tightly to the bedpost. His ankles were tightly bound to the bedposts.

His heart started thumping in his chest again,

"So... Water." A voice said quietly behind him.

He twisted his head around painfully to see the man stood behind him.

He caught a glimpse of a mop of unruly blonde hair, and deep blue eyes; ice, cold eyes. There was no emotion behind them.

A gloved hand pressed his head into the pillow.

"What do you want?" Eli Shan asked, although he already knew.

He knew who this man was.

The White Bridge Rapist.

"You already know, don't you?" The voice said smoothly. "I see it in your eyes."

Eli shivered at the man's voice; it was so... cold. Foreboding.

"I... I don't care what you do to me," Eli whispered. "But please don't kill me."

The voice chuckled softly.

"You know, you're the first to beg for his life. The others begged me not to hurt them. To take anything I wanted. But you're the first to beg for your miserable life."

"Has it worked?" Eli asked, managing, somehow, to keep his voice even.

"No. But it was amusing to hear." The man pushed into Eli's body, drawing a whimper from his throat.

Eli started thrashing, trying to throw the man off, but his limbs were bound so tightly he couldn't gain enough leverage to even move.

The man felt his struggles.

Eli felt a massive fist slam into his ribs, one, twice, three times, leaving him gasping for breath, trying to curl up in pain.

He felt thick fingers curl into his hair and yank his head up.

Eli Shan saw the flash of a steel blade from the corner of his eye and started to scream again.