Then he was gone. She didn’t feel relief
with his departure. In the quiet dark, her chest shook with silent sobs
as she lay waiting, unsure of what to expect. The only external stimulus
came from the rough strips of sheet biting into her flesh. It wasn’t
enough to keep her imagination from torturing her. Would the vampires or
Morgan kill her? Her stomach violently threw butterflies at the inside
of her chest. If it wasn’t for the gag lodged in her mouth, she’d throw
up.
A shrill scream broke the silence and
stilled Delores’ breath. An eternity seemed to pass before the next
sound. A crash, closer than the scream, came from downstairs. Another
crash and then a scream…The eerie silence followed.
Her heart pounded, filling the void of sound
until something clicked in the room. It was a soft tap of metal on
metal, like a door handle turned very slowly.
Delores tried to shrink deeper into the bed
as if she could hide. The restraints dug into her flesh and tugged on
her limbs.
The floor creaked. There was someone in the
room.
It could be Morgan, a small part of her
hoped for the lesser of the two evils but she couldn’t be sure. She
couldn’t smell his cologne but her sense of smell was ruined from
crying. She couldn’t see, couldn’t move and couldn’t speak. Whoever or
whatever it was, she was defenseless to him.
Slowly, the comforter slid from her. Anxiety
grew to throbbing thuds in her head. Cold air stole her heat and forced
small spurts of breath to escape her in shivers. A hand touched her calf
softly and slid up her leg with the same torturous slowness. At her hip,
the touch disappeared. It reappeared on her cheek. Fingertips caressed
her skin.
It had to be Morgan, her brain assured her.
The tingling sensations of the touches felt almost good, ignoring the
fear.
Palms pressed against her neck and pushed
down her collar before roughly tearing open her pajama top. Buttons
popped against the walls and skittered across the floor. Delores sucked
in air with surprise. Would Morgan be so rough? He had tied her to the
bed and gagged her.
Her nipples beaded and her breasts firmed.
She shouldn’t want this.
Another scream sounded in the distance but
it was the hands on her chest that held Delores’ attention. A cold palm
lifted the side of one breast as if readying it for a mouth. Her body
arched up, expecting a warm tongue. Instead, a single fingertip tapped
against the soft flesh. It was a cold, methodic touch, like when a nurse
prepares to draw blood from the crook of an arm.