Showing posts with label Week 2. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Week 2. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

FREE ONLINE STORY~WEEK 2

How fast the weeks go by!

Last week I started a new free online story. This week I'm continuing with the next scene. This is a romantic comedy suspense/mystery that started as an example, then turned into a blog series. I have no idea how long the story will be. I just know I'll keep going for as long as it takes to tell it.

I've removed the Captcha from my blog comments, so it's a lot easier to leave comments now. Please leave a comment, I'm looking forward to spending time with you guys over a quick coffee break read! If you didn't read last week's entry, you can find it HERE.


CONTINUATION...
 
(C)Monique DeVere 2012

Lord, she was going to die! This oaf knew exactly how to hold her so that he managed to squeeze every molecule of breath from her lungs and prevented any more from re-entering. Even if he hadn’t muzzled her, she wouldn’t have been able to scream anyway.
 
Spots exploded in her eyes and her head went woozy. This was it — end of her life — end of her hopes, dreams and plans... 
 
What was she doing giving up like some kind of coward? Hadn’t she had enough of being scared?
 
Yes, she had.
 
She just plain had had enough of it all, and she had enough of men like Brutus here. Abusive men who took what they wanted and didn’t care what damage they left behind. She kicked her three-inch heels against his meaty shins as if she was peddling a bike, and she wanted to win the Tour de France.
 
He swore and shook her. “Stop it, bitch.”
 
But she wasn’t done with him yet, she reached her hands behind her head and clawed at his face. “Let me go!” That’s what she meant, even if it sounded like muum um muum!
 
He swore some more as he slammed her against the asphalt with enough force to break bones. Jess didn’t feel anything beyond the satisfaction of knowing she fought back, and if he killed her in this foggy car park on this cold January night, at least she’d collected his DNA under her fingernails. 
 
He leaned over her and she saw two of him. Man, she must’ve banged her head really hard.
 
“So you’re a little hell cat, are you? Good thing for you I like hell cats.” His heavy body landed on top of her. “They taste the best.” His breath and fine particles of spittle splattered her face.
 
His mouth mashed hers, crushing her lips against her clenched teeth. She tasted blood, kicked and scratched at him. She wanted to scream, but daren’t open her mouth in case he decided to stick his disgusting tongue inside. She didn’t think she’d be able to hang onto that chocolate bar she’d eaten half hour ago if he did. Her stomach heaved in protest to his foul breath. He stunk of unwashed male mixed with a pungent chemical scent. A scent that was vaguely familiar yet she couldn’t place.  
 
Refusing to surrender, she fought him, tried to get her knee high enough between his legs so she could knee him in the groin, but he had her flattened beneath his weight.
 
“I said quit it!” One large hand closed around her throat, his thumb pressed into her windpipe as he bared his teeth in a sneer. He shook her by her neck. “You can be living or dead...” His other hand pushed roughly between their bodies, his hard knuckled dug into her belly as he worked to unfasten his belt. “It makes no difference to me.”
 
Her heart pounded. Her eyes stung as though they were about to pop out of her head from the pressure threatening to explode her skull. Her whole body shook uncontrollably. 
 
Oh, God, he was going to rape and murder her right in the middle of a parking lot and she could do nothing to stop him. Jess clawed at the hand squeezing her throat. 
 
Tears fuzzed her vision—or was that lack of oxygen? She opened her mouth to scream, but her brain was a bit slow on the uptake and refused to obey. She needed air. She needed to get this man off her. 
 
She tried to push him away but her arms behaved like cooked spaghetti, her ears rang, and the fuzz to her sight morphed into a blackness that slowly closed in on her.
 
Lord, don’t let this man kill me, and if he does, let him do it quick!
 
His mouth crushed down on hers again—cold, wet, and nasty. She strained to turn her face away but he wrenched her back, his slimy tongue licking over her mouth. Jess only vaguely noticed.
 
Her hands lost strength and fell limply to her sides. Nothing mattered anymore. She was going to die alone, cold and by the hands of a man so disgusting he made her throw up in her mouth.
 
People say that at the point of death you see your life flashed before you, but that wasn’t what Jess saw. She saw a face. An angel in a Mac, and he was almost too handsome to gaze upon. She tried to reach out to him, to speak to him, thank him for coming to rescue her, but the words wouldn’t come and it was an effort to raise her arm.
 
Her body went floppy, her world contracted to a pinprick of light. She lost focus and let her eyes close as blackness claimed her.

To Be Continued...

Is this really an angel Jess sees? Is she hallucinating from lack of oxygen? Or is this a real man? You'll have to wait until next week to find out. Meanwhile, I'd love to hear what you think about angels. Do you think they exist? Have you ever seen an angel? How did s/he appear to you?

Please leave a comment and share your thoughts with us.