Hour After Midnight

Part One: Lacey

Lacey ran down the blood red hallway frantically. Trying each door along the corridor, her breath coming out in ragged pants, her legs screamed against the exertion forced upon them. She turned at the sound of her boyfriend’s voice. He hadn’t reached the hallway yet; she pushed herself even further until she reached a door. Turning the knob of a door near the center she literally flew through the wood frame as it opened before her. Lacey quietly swung the door shut behind her as the large grandfather clock struck the hour.

“I know you’re in here, and I’m going to find you. And do you know what I’m going to do once I find you. Well, of course you don’t because only I know that, but let me tell you it’s not going to be pretty. But boy is it going to be fun,” he said purposely walking top certain doors he knew to be locked. “Oh, Lacey, are you in here,” he said throwing the door open dramatically.

Lacey looked around the dark room for a way out or even something to defend herself with. Her hand placed in front of her as a guide. She felt a soft, cloth like material, when it shivered slightly she deduced that they were curtains and logically curtains conceal a window. Being as quietly as possible she felt through the heavy curtains to the windows underneath. Lacey pulled her hand back in surprise when her fingertips slightly grazed the cool metal sheet that concealed her only escape.

Pushing down the feeling of panic that floated to the surface, she calmed down and decided to think rationally. She crouched down and felt around blindly for a weapon, anything she could use to hurt the bastard would be good at this point.

“I wonder if she’s in here,” he said loudly, slowly walking toward the heavy oak door at the center of the hallway. The only door he intentionally left unlocked. Her fingers bumbling around in the dark came across what felt like a cold metal pipe as she heard the doorknob for what seemed like an eternity. Grabbing the pipe she gripped it in both hands as she melted against the wall away from the light that filtered in from the hallway as the door was slowly opened. Lacey fought her instinct to close her eyes and she held the pipe over her head and put one foot in front of the other ready to strike.

“I know you’re in here, Lacey. The question is where are and what do you think you can do with that pipe. Can you kill me Lacey? If given the choice, could you put that pipe in-between my eyes and kill me. I don’t think you can.” He walked in and stood still to try and detect any movement. His steps were sure, as he walked further in. Lacey couldn’t hurt a fly, if her life depended on it, which it does.

Lacey held her breath and watched his shadow, silhouetted by the open door close the gap between them. Her body shook in apprehension just to the right of the partially opened door. She inhaled the slightly stale air of the musty room deeply and brought the pipe down in a swooping arc. But her intake of breath gave her away for instead of the pipe landing its mark on the crown of his head it pierced his shoulder when he moved to dodge the destructive blow. His reflexes saved him from certain death.

The man she was sure she was in love with fell to the floor, grunting to his knees in pain. She cursed loudly, as she ran out of the room and shut the door behind her, not staying to see just how hurt he was.

“Damn, I knew this was going to be fun.” He grinned as he felt his shoulder in the dark room, probing the muscle trying to determine if anything was broken. Shaking his head he decides that it’s not enough to slow him down. “Well, I guess I’m going to have to have fun with her for a little longer.” He brushed himself off and went to the door.

“Oh, lacey, I have to give it to you. You got me good. I wasn’t expecting that. But it was pleasant surprise. If you haven’t learned by now, then I’ll just tell you there’s no way out and only hour left to run.”

She left the corridor before he left the room, a clean escape for the moment. She was free to hide. She ran through the three or four corridors toward the front of the house. Grabbing her hip at the sudden pain of the stitch catching her by surprise she hobbled down the stairs as quickly as her worn out body would allow.

The wide double staircase made up the characteristic dark oak gave her some difficulty, but only slowed her down slightly. Once reaching the ground floor she ran across the large room to the two ornately carved pine doors that led to the outside world. She pushed the tab down and yanked on the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge, which deep down she knew it wouldn’t. It couldn’t be that easy. Crying softly to herself she threw her body against the door, trying to force it open, the promise to herself of remaining clam thrown out the window.

Her hip aching, she slid to her knees on the floor, defeated and out of hope. Her hands covering her face, Lacey cried silently, rocking back and forth just wanting to know why this is happening to her. She looked up in shock as she heard the door slide open about ten inches with a soft click. She climbed to her feet quickly and opened the door a little wider. Leaning on the door, her hand on her bruised hip, she peered anxiously into the deep night. “I wouldn’t go out there if I were you,” her lover said, looking down at her from the top of the staircase.

“And just why would I want to get the police and put you behind bars you miserable sack of shit,” she said standing taller and in an even voice filled with authority now that she just might get out of this disaster.

“That’s why.” He pointed with his good arm toward the other side of the porch outside. He leaned against the banister for support as Lacey spun around when she heard the growl of an angry animal. The German Shepherds bared their teeth menacingly, their eyes flashing with challenge. The dogs charged the door and Lacey, using all of her weight against the heavy door, pushed with her back and the door snapped closed before the dogs could get in. Her breathing frantic the sound of the door closing reverberated off the walls.

“What is your problem?” she asked her anger getting the best of her.

“I don’t have a problem.” He slowly advanced down the stirs seeing where this conversation was going.

“Yes, you do. Normal people do don’t do this. Hell, abnormal people don’t do this. Only twisted fucks like you do this crazy shit.” She paused seeing the same anger in his eyes that was in hers. “So, what is this about hurting me, the one person who loves you in this world?”

“Be careful what you say Lacey. It might affect the outcome of this.” He continued to advance on her slowly now leaving the stairs and coming across the room to where she stood.

“While we’re having a moment here, can I ask you a question? Okay, here it goes. Did you have a close relationship with your mother growing up? And if so just how close are we talking?’

“I’ll let that slide for now. I understand that your scared and don’t really know what you’re saying.” He came still closer, almost halfway across the room.

Lacey backed away from him, the wheels in her mind turning. “You’re a coward, a fucking coward. So you bring defenseless young women here and you hunt them. Why? To feel like a man? Well, in my eyes you’ll always be a small and weak sack of shit and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

Her lover’s eyes flashed in anger and he charged her from his close position. Thinking quickly she grabbed the blue vase off the table near the wall and smashed it across the right side of his head. The blood trickled down his face and into his eyes temporarily blinding him. In his mind the room started to spin so he shut his eyes to avoid falling flat on his face for if her fell he knew it would be very difficult to get back up.

Taking this opportunity, Lacey walked over to the corner next to the table where she remembered seeing a chair. She lifted the chair and carried it to where he lover was swaying slightly with his eyes closed, and cracked it against his back, the pieces of shattered wood mixing on the once immaculate floor with the blue shard of pointed lass from the vase. “Let’s see you get up from that asshole. Is it still fun for you?” she asked careful not to get to close to the broken, bloody heap crumpled like a pile of dirty laundry on the floor.

“Shit. I’m going to die in here,” she said to herself, turning around her palm pressed to her forehead as she considered her options. “Let me tell you something. I may die in here but I’m still going to hope for a way out. I can deal with that, but I’m going to make it as difficult for you as possible. I won’t go down without a fight.” She looked at the man currently on the ground unconscious in utter disgust.

She spun on her heel and walked up the stairs as silently as she could. She stood there at the entrance to the three hallways all done appropriately in crimson, the color of blood. The answer to her problem lies in one of these doors in one of these hallways. She went to the first door in the hallway to the left and tried the doorknob. She walked through the door when it swung open on rusty hinges.

The light from the hallway barely illuminated the interior of the room. What she could tell from standing in the hall was that his was some sort of bedroom, not used in a few years, layers of dust covering everything. She searched the wall next to the door and found the light switch. She flicked it up and the light came on. She stared at the room suspiciously.

On the surface the room seemed to be just an ordinary bedroom, maybe one a guest would stay in while visiting the owner. But if this situation taught her anything it was that nothing is really what is seems to be. Lacey ran to the small bedside table that held a tiffany lamp and of all things a telephone. Sitting on the hunter green quilt of the bed, she picked up the phone, not really expecting an answer. “Oh, my God. It works,” she said her fingers shaking in excitement as she dialed 911.

“Sorry, but the number you have dialed is no longer in service,” a monotone voice came on and told her after a few seconds of silence. Slamming the phone back into its cradle, she got up and walked to the door saying, “Shit, I knew it was too good to be true.”

Before she left she turned and realized to her dismay that the same metal sheet that covered the window in the other room covered this one as well and probably all the other to boot. She turned off the light and shut the door just as she found it moments before. Lacey checked a few more unlocked doors in this hallway discovering much of the same: telephones that didn’t work, shielded windows, and a series of dead ends. After breaking into a few locked doors to find very disturbing things like locks nailed to the wall, a table of torture supplies, and what looked like electro shock in one room to name a few, she felt a chill run up her spine before she could kick in another door.

She started to feel good about this impossible situation. She’s got this far and is still alive so why can’t she find a way out. She raced back down the hall to the head of the stairs, her feelings of intuition taking over. She prayed silently hoping not to find what she knew she would.

She looked and even though she knew what to expect her eyes widened in surprise as she saw the floor littered with blood, broken glass and bits of wood, but no body. She had her confidence as she slowly descended the stairs. “He’s hurt, badly from the looks of it. Missing a lot of blood, he’s got to be weak,” she thought looking around the ground floor. She knelt next to the puddle of blood, her fingertips reaching for the result of the damage she caused to another human being. She brought her fingers to her nose and smelled his weakness. Holding the large letter opener she wasn’t even conscious of taking from one of the rooms upstairs, she stood up and looked toward the dark corner where the trail of blood led.

She raised the letter opener prepared to strike at whatever she found in the dark corner of the room. Suddenly her lover grabbed her from behind, his arm snaking around her middle and lifting her off the ground. She kicked violently in mid-air, hoping to upset his balance but to no avail. He carried her to the other side of the room with her struggling as hard as she could manage with her arms pinned to her sides. He threw her against the wall, the back of her head bouncing against the hard surface with a loud thud. She was stunned with the sudden blow, her eyes clouding over she balanced delicately on the edge of unconsciousness.

“Nope. Don’t think so Lacey. You stay awake. You can’t miss all the fun.” He slapped her open palmed across the cheek his hand imprinted in red across her left cheek. “What are you going to do now, Lacey? How are you going to get out of this one?” he asked his hand grabbing her throat and lifting her two feet off the ground to meet his eyes.

“Please…” she broke off as the air was cut from her constricted throat and she could no longer form articulate words.

“Please what? Don’t kill you. Oh, alright, but it’s okay for you to do this to me, but I have to leave you alone. Look at what you did Lacey. Look. You have to pay.” He got close to her close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath fan across her face. Even now, with blood dripping from his ears, caking to the side of his head from the vase, and hi shoulder out of place from the pipe, he still had that power to captivate anyone who came close to him. “But you’re right. I can’t kill you yet. We still haven’t had nearly enough fun.” And with that he released her. She crumpled to the floor grabbing her aching throat, her head still pounding. Wobbly getting to her feet she struggled to get away from him, her legs near folding under her twice before he caught up with her.

“I had no idea you were this strong. Or even this determined to live. Lacey, you surprise me. Which doesn’t happen often, I must say. Now we can begin.” He walked to her very casually and grabbing her arm he spun her around. Using all of his might he punched her on the side of her face. The shock from the blow caused her to pass out, which is just what he wanted. He could have used Chloroform but what was the fun in that. He grabbed her before she could fall on the floor and tossing her over his shoulder he carried her up the stairs to a room he had all ready picked out just for her.

She opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was the explosive pain coming from the side of her head. She had to blink a few times because of the fireworks covering her vision. Looking around once her vision returned; she found herself lying on the bed in the green room, back to where she started. “Oh, good, you’re awake. I was starting to worry. Maybe I hit you a little too hard.” Her lover came in from a room adjoining the one she was in, wiping his hands on a green towel. “Now, don’t look at me like that. You really brought this on yourself,” he said leaning against the post at the end of the bed.

“Oh, please, Oh wise one. Explain why this is all my fault. Explain why I am here and not someone else. Is it because I actually loved you,” she snapped a little apprehensive at his close proximity.

Remember your life now belongs to me. I can extinguish it any time I wish. You’re just like the others, selfish drones, going through their lives sticking to a pattern, living their lives hiding who they really are.”

“And just who do you think I am, since you know me so much better than I could know myself.”

He came toward her and using half of his strength he punched her again this time using his other fist. “I warned you. I’m trying to have a polite conversation and you just think you can sass me into killing you faster. See it’s the wait that drives most people crazy. They can’t stand not knowing when it’s coming. You see, Lacey, this isn’t about hurting as many people as I can, like you most likely think. But about the chase, the suspense. Will you escape or will you die? Oh, look at the time. We better get started.”

Lacey had her head rested on the pillow; the damage it has taken was just too much. The bruises on the side of her head and across her face are livid, the purple clashing violently with the green quilt. Her lover got on top of her, one of his large hands imprisoning both of her above her head, his long, sinewy body, pinning her to the bed where she could hardly move to defend herself. “You see, Lacey, I like to pray on the fears of those I bring here. And I suppose you know what yours is. Your greatest fear is to be helpless. And let me just tell you there’s nothing you can do to stop what I’m about to do to you,” he said staring down at her, a strange fire lighting his eyes making him look even more insane than she at first thought him to be.

His hand moved over her body. Ripping her shirt to shreds, he throws the now useless rag that used to be her shirt across the room. As he fondles her breasts roughly through her white cotton bra, a single tear slips from underneath her eyelashes and down her cheek. “Please, stop, I‘m a virgin,” she said her voice shaking with fear, trying to plead with him which she knew was useless.

He got close to her ear, they were cheek to cheek. She could feel his hot breath on her neck become rapid as he became excited; the bulge in his pans the only measure of just how excited. He whispered, “I know. And I’m going to give it to you good. You just might like it,” he bit her ear, not hard enough to draw blood but just hard enough to hurt. She winced in pain as he worked he jeans down he long, slender legs. A thought suddenly came uninhibited into her mind. “He must be pretty good at raping women to be able to do all this with only one hand. He’s even developed a technique. There could have been others before me. I can’t let him do this to me. I can’t just lie here helpless as he takes me.”

She starts to writhe and struggle in his iron like grip, paying no attention to the pain in her head that resulted from the sudden movement. “There we go. That’s the fighter we all know and love. Keep struggling. It’s better when you struggle, it turns me on.” He ripped her underwear painfully. She knew he wanted her to struggle and she didn’t want to do anything he wanted her to but she couldn’t help but try. She rubbed against him, pelvis to pelvis trying to buck him off her, her hand twisted in his grip, her arms straining against his hold.

His face turned red when she rubbed against him, the tears now streaming like a river down her face being the last straw. Her body shook convulsively when she heard his pants being unbuttoned and his fly coming down. His other hand joined the one that was holding her hands prisoner as he dove into her violently. She cried out in pain as he started the rapid back and forth motion, going deeper each time. She bit her lip to hold back the screams that tickled the back of her throat, her entire body moving with his as he struggled to get deeper with each violent thrust. He held himself back as he rode her like a wild stallion for a few minutes longer. “I know this hurts, but climb with me, don’t let go,” he said out of breath trying to direct her. He felt her climb with him, the mountain becoming higher and higher with each passing moment. “Okay, now let go,” he said as he came explosively inside her.

He lay there still inside her, holding her prisoner for a few moments, to catch his breath. He pulls out and sits up releasing her hands as he straddles her to keep her on the bed. “Now, did you enjoy that? Even just a little bit?” he asked looking down at her, his hand on her chin he turned her face toward him so he can see her eyes.

“No,” she expelled, her breathing returning to normal, glad that the pain was gone. Now it was just a dull throb that she could deal with. She was mostly numb.

“See that you have to lie to yourself. Because I was the only one that had the guts to do what we both wanted. Yes, you know you wanted it. No use denying it.”

“You’re right I did want it. Just not like that. You son-of-a bitch, it felt like someone was impaling me from the inside,” she said her anger getting the best of her. She figured she was going to die anyway, what’s the use of being nice about it.

“Have you ever felt pain like that before?” he asked and getting no answer his voice rising as he asked again, “Well, have you?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Exactly. Through pain we see ourselves. That’s the only way we can tell we are alive is through pain. There’s truth in pain. You never thought you could withstand pain like that did you?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“See, you learned something new about yourself. We are born through pain and we die through pain. Pain enriches any experience and takes it to a completely different level then thought humanly possible. I didn’t feel the pain you felt but knowing you felt pain like that and that I was the cause of it gave me a rush greater than I feel at any other time. Thank you for sharing it with me. Not like I gave you a choice in the first place, but thank you just the same.”

His hands slipped around her all ready tender neck and squeezed that air out of her throat. Her hands shot up to his to try and pry them away from her neck, but he was stronger than she could ever hope to be. “You see, Lacey, I know you can hear me. Strangulation is a crime of passion and what a perfect way to end what we just shared but in passion.” He bore down and watched as she turned a shade of blue, her eyes bulging in her head. Her hands fell away from his as she died. She watched him as if she were falling down a long tunnel remove his hands from her neck and stare at her for a few seconds. Lacey saw him then bend down and kiss her cheek. “Thanks for a great time,” resounded in her head as the last words she ever heard.

He climbed off the bed and walked into the room adjoining the bedroom. He looked into the mirror of the bathroom to assess the damage that was done to his face and back. He undressed, dropping his clothes into a pile on the floor. He climbed into the shower, turning the water onto as hot as he could stand and washed the blood off his bruised body. Lathering up he sang “Here comes the Reaper” and he smiled to himself as he thought of poor Lacey, his eyes alight with the sweet memories she afforded him. Yep, he was definitely going to miss having Lacey around.