Just A Little Mad.

He wasn’t like any other man I’ve met before. He was tall, about 6’4 and always had his dark brown hair slicked back with gel. He looked like a successful businessman when he wore perfectly ironed blue shirt, slacks and jacket to match. He was handsome, too. I was surprised when he said he wasn’t married.

I met him at a bar – Gordy’s Bar, on the corner of Brookman Street and Wales Street. He sent me a drink from the stool across the room, while I was sitting in a booth with my friends – Carly and Anna, gorgeous girls. We giggled when he sent me a wink as I drank his drink. My cheeks had gone pink. He grabbed his drink and walked up to me and my friends.

“Excuse me, ladies,” he said, “but I was wondering if I could have a chat to your lovely friend here.”

My friends all nodded and said sure. He had lent his free hand and I smiled as I slipped my hand into his. I grabbed my other drink and he had led me over to an empty booth.

We sat and talked about what we did, who we were and answered each other’s questions. It seemed as if he got more and more attractive as I talked to him that night. By the time we called it a night, it was two thirty AM.

“Would you like to get out of here?” He gave me a devilish smile and I gave him one back, knowing he was all male and wanted to sleep with me.

“Sure.”

He took me to an apartment, very expensive and flash-looking. He was a rich bloke. I was excited to sleep with him, excited to see what he could offer me afterwards. As I inspected his apartment, his presence behind me appeared. He was close; I was comfortable with him being close. I could smell alcohol on his breath as he breathed and a stench of rich cologne.

“What are you going to do to me?” I asked.

“What’s my name?” He asked me and my brows furrow in confusion.

“Victor,” I said.

“You may sleep with Victor, but Greg wants to punish you.”

My heart pounded in my chest. My hands felt clammy holding my purse. Something pointy and sharp slid down my spine, and then the straps of my dress were cut.

“W-Who’s Greg?” I asked, my voice wavered.

“Me,” he stated in a dark voice.

This guy, the guy I met in bar wasn’t who I thought he was. I was scared, my lips trembled and voice hitched in my throat. His hands held my breasts and I could feel his erection behind me.

“Please don’t do this.”

“This is what you want isn’t it. To sleep with a guy who’s rich and will give you anything,” His voice is velvety and smooth, but he has a dark edge that could make anyone trembling in fright.

“Not like this. Do not twist my words around, either.”

He ignored my words as he walked me to the couch; it was in front of me. He breathed in from behind me and cuts off my clothing till I was naked and without any underwear.
“I don’t want this, Victor.” I said.

“You see, madness, as you know, is like gravity. All it takes is a little push.” At the word push, he had bent me over the couch and had his way.

I didn’t cry, I didn’t scream. I was fine, in peace. I wasn’t moaning, I wasn’t groaning. I was silent and still.

Because this is his mind, this is his thinking. I’m now a ghost, because he killed me. I said nothing to him. Nothing at all, except for when I was alive at the bar.