Story 145

In continuation of Story 144.
The story begins here.

When he woke up, he climbed out of bed and walked out to put on his jeans; he left her alone, lying naked in the bed. During her time underground, she had gotten used to being naked; but out here in the open, in daylight she felt too exposed. She curled into foetal position and fell asleep.

She woke up when he came back to the room, sat on the bed and ran his hand through her hair matted with sweat and dirt.
“You need a bath” he said.
He walked out of the room and returned after some time.
“Let’s go” he said and she climbed out of bed and followed him out of the bedroom. She felt too exposed and tried to conceal as much of her nudity as she could. He looked at her, one arm covering her breasts and the other over her privates and he laughed.

He made her stand under the shower while the bathtub filled with water. She reacted to the hot water as it made contact with her skin, it hurt at first but then she gave in and relaxed as the hot water washed away the dirt, tiredness and ache of her body. A stream of blood ran down her legs and into the drain.
“Shit” she whispered as she watched embarrassingly.
“Shit” he said and she apologised as if it was her fault.
She had heard about this from her friends. Bleeding after first-time sex but she was not sure this was right. She tried to recollect when her last period was but the problem was, she did not know how long she had been in this dreadful place. 

“Wash your hair”, he yelled and she snapped back to the moment. Even though he had readied the tub for her he did not ask her to get into it; she knew it was because he had seen her bleeding. He asked her to wash herself under the shower and watched as she cleaned her body. When she finished, he handed her a towel to dry. He let her wrap it around her body, the first piece of cloth she had since she had been brought here.
They walked back to the bedroom. She saw the blood stain on the bedsheet - a harsh reminder of what had happened to her, of what she had lost. 

She felt it again, the wetness between her legs and then the stream of blood. She was having her period. "Gross" the man cursed and walked out. He returned with a rope, which he used to tie her wrists together and then tied her to the bedpost. She sat on the floor, trying not to move.
He went out again and closed the bedroom door behind him and then she heard the front door being slammed shut.

She pulled on the rope, trying to free herself. This is my chance, she thought. She had to get out of here. She was still weak but she was determined to get out of this place. She freed her wrists and stood up. The towel she had wrapped around herself had a blood stain on it. 

She did not have second thoughts of running out of this place in this condition. This was less embarrassing that what she had been subjected to. There was no window in the room, she tried the door knob. It was locked. She fell on her knees. He had not simply closed the bedroom door behind him, he had locked it from the outside.

She heard the front door being opened. He was back. She went back to where he had tied her and was trying to slip her wrists back in the rope when he opened the bedroom door and saw what had happened in the room when he was not around. There were drops of blood from the door to the bed.
“Bitch” he yelled as he ran towards her and slapped her across her face. She collapsed on the floor. He kicked her in the stomach and she screamed in pain.
He threw the plastic bag on the bed; he had brought supplies for her.
He walked out of the bedroom without closing the door and returned with wet piece of cloth.
“Clean” he said and closed the door.
She managed to sit up straight after a while. She saw the plastic bag, he had brought tampons, a pantie and a gown.
After attending to her personal hygiene, she cleaned the room as she was told.

The room was clean when he stepped in with food and water. She spilled water over the gown as she gulped down as much water as she could as fast as she could. She ate like a homeless person who had not eaten for days. She did not remember when she had eaten last. This man had starved her for the first half of her captivity. She almost choked on the food. She tried not to puke because she did not have the strength to clean it up.
He watched her as she finished what he had served.
He picked up the plate and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.  She banged on the door when she wanted to use the bathroom.
He let her use the bathroom while he stood outside, waiting.
She had some pleasure causing him discomfort. Her period had saved her from further sexual assault, at least for time being.
She had heard of men who were not bothered by menses but this one clearly was. 

He let her use the bathroom as and when she pleased. He let her shower and provided change of clothes. The wounds on her wrists and ankles had started to heal, he even let her apply ointment over the wounds.
If someone saw them now, they would think he was taking good care of her; only she knew what she had been subjected to before this.

He came back after a week with a bottle of alcohol in his hand. One week’s nourishment had strengthened her enough to put up a struggle especially if he was intoxicated but he handed over the bottle to her and asked her to drink. She refused and he slapped her. He forced the bottle to her mouth and made her drink and then he pushed her on the bed and climbed on top of her. He was back to his routine.
She had never consumed alcohol before. She felt dizzy but she was aware what was happening to her. She was shocked when at one point her body reacted to the sex and she had an orgasm. “Yes!” He moaned as he came into her. “That’s my girl” he said and laughed. 

For days after that he came and went as he pleased. He made her consume alcohol each time. She realised it made no sense to fight it. She gave in, yet again. She became more compliant than he expected her to be and that pleased him.
For a couple of nights, they had what could be called as consensual sex. Anything to survive she told herself and one night, when he lay sprawled in bed next to her, she took out the broken piece of glass from under her pillow and slashed his throat. She smiled as the blood oozed out of the wound and he gasped for breath. He tried to stop the bleeding by putting his hands over the wound. She climbed out of bed and found the rope she had hidden under the bed and tied his hands to the bedpost. She slashed his wrists and watched as blood spurted out. Soon the pillow and the bed-sheet turned red. 

Since she had become compliant, he had no clue she had been planning this. One night, when he had fallen asleep after sex, she had picked up his glass and smashed it against the wall lightly so as to break it in two and had hidden the sharp piece under the pillow.
That night, she could have tried to escape but she had no idea where she was, how far from civilisation had he kept her captive; she did not know whether they had any neighbours, whether anyone could save her. She did not want to take the risk. She knew that the only way this nightmare would end was if she killed the monster.

“You should have killed me after you raped me the first time” she said as she watched him bleed. He stared at her, wide-eyed. He tried to free his wrists but he could not, the cuts on the wrists had weakened the muscles. He was losing consciousness.
“But you got greedy” she said and smiled.
She watched him die and then she put on her gown and walked out of the bedroom and out the front door. On her way out she picked up keys of his truck. She got in the truck but it was too dark and she did not know where she was. There were no neighbours for as far as she could see. She came back to the house to search for a phone. Found his phone in his jeans pocket and she called 911.

The paramedics arrived at the scene, wrapped her in blanket and attended to her wounds. The police arrived and took her statement; she told them about the dead body inside the house. She realised she was very far from home. The man had taken efforts to make sure she was never found. She was on his farmland. He had intended on keeping her; at least until he grew tired of her.
The thought crossed her mind and the police dog barked in distance.
The paramedics told her that they had found a decomposed dead body and two sets of skeletons buried in his land. She shivered.

She was taken to the nearby hospital where her parents were waiting for her. They were happy to see her; they were not aware of what was coming next.
The nightmares started when she was still in the hospital. She would yell in her sleep and struggle against the tubes attached to her. They had to tie her down but that worsened the situation. She screamed and tried to break free. They sedated her. This was just the beginning.
When the effect of sedatives wore off, she tried to kill herself. The doctors and the nurses did not know what to do. They could not control her, could not tie her down; the only thing they could do was to keep her sedated as long as they could.
She could not believe when the nurse told her that she had tried to kill herself. 
"How could you do that after surviving for so long?" The nurse had asked her. She asked herself the same question. The only possible explanation was she had tried to kill herself during the episode of her nightmare when she believed she was still in captivity. She had reached for the scissors in the medicine tray and jabbed it in her neck. The nurse who had forgotten the tray had come back to get it and had found her bleeding. The said nurse was taken off duty until further investigation was done into her carelessness that had endangered the life of a patient.

When she had killed the man, she thought it was all over. But she was terribly wrong.


The in-house psychiatrist visited her when she was calm enough to talk. He told her that talking would help so she told him everything from the moment she set her eyes on her rapist to the moment she slashed his throat. Talking did not help. The nightmares did not stop. It bothered the other patients; her parents were afraid of taking her home. So, she was transferred to a psychiatric facility.
She was given medications to calm her down, to help stop the nightmares. She was monitored 24 x 7 by the staff. The nightmares did not stop completely but the medication helped, the frequency reduced. 


When she was allowed to have visitors, her boyfriend visited her. They met in the common room amidst other patients and the staff. He moved closer to her before the staff could stop him, because they knew how she would react. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. She screamed and tried to free herself from the embrace; she pushed him and he fell on the floor. 

The other patients stopped their activities to watch what was happening. The staff ran towards them, a few helped him off the ground and the female staff tried to calm her down.
That was the last time she saw her boyfriend.
The medicines and therapy helped. The psychiatrist who took the private sessions suggested that it was time she joined a group.
That’s where she met him; the man who helped her rebuild her life.

She thought she had suffered the worst; she felt her life was ruined beyond repair but meeting him changed everything.

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