She fought him with everything she’d got, kicking and screaming as he hauled her along the hallway. Her arms flailed desperately, smacking into the walls, searching for purchase. She was nearly at the end of the hallway now, but suddenly her fingers found the radiator pipe and she wrapped them around it, arresting their progress. Instantly, a heavy boot slammed down on them. Howling in pain, she loosened her grip and was yanked unceremoniously into the back room.
She landed in a heap, but as she tried to rise a fist connected with her stomach. Gasping, she bent double, then felt his fat hand on the back of her neck. She heard a chair being dragged across the floor and moments later she was deposited on to it, her backside connecting sharply with the seat. Another hard slap stunned her – she was seeing stars now – then her arms were jerked behind her. Her resistance was feeble and she was soon bound to the chair. With her last vestiges of energy, she tried to scream, but a rag was shoved forcefully into her mouth. She gagged, but didn’t vomit, the dirty fabric tickling her larynx.
Her attacker paused for breath, his chest rising and falling, clearly exhausted by his efforts. He took a moment to gather himself, then hurried out of the room. She heard his progress, as he returned to the closet. Moments later, he re-entered the room carrying a shabby duffelbag.
Ignoring her, he put the bag down and unzipped it. From it, he removed a large cleaver. Turning, he walked over to Kassie, the weapon gripped in his fist. Having been a bundle of nervous, adrenalized energy, he now paused, catching his breath once more, looking at the helpless girl in front of him. Kassie thought he was about to speak, to taunt her, but instead he walked straight up to her, grasping the sleeve of her shirt. Raising the blade, he slit along the seam, until the fabric parted, revealing her bare arm beneath. Kassie started to struggle, to rock backward and forward in the chair, but White ignored her, opening up her other sleeve in similar fashion. Now he teased the point of his blade between the buttons on the front of her shirt, before suddenly ripping sharply upwards. Buttons flew everywhere, then the devastated shirt fell open, revealing her bra and the bare flesh of her torso.
Exhaling heavily, White surveyed his victim.
‘Ready to play?’
Kassie said nothing, glaring at him defiantly. To her surprise, her captor pulled off his mask, revealing his sweaty, pink face. With a gleam of triumph in his eyes, he stared at her, a thin smile creasing his lips. She had seen his face before of course, but now in close-up it seemed even more repellent. The pale, flaccid skin where the goatee used to be, the cold, dead eyes, the thin folds of fat on his forehead and chin. He looked like a slavering hog, one who was looking forward to a good feed. Lowering himself to her level, he looked her in the eye and whispered:
‘On the count of three. One –’
He ripped the blade fast across her stomach. Immediately Kassie was gripped by an awful, burning sensation. Looking down, she expected to see her guts tumbling out … but it was just a nasty flesh wound. Was this it then? The beginning of a prolonged, abominable desecration?
Sensing her anxiety, her attacker locked his eyes on to hers.
‘I’m going to make you beg, girlie. I’m going to make you beg for mercy …’
His tiny eyes blazed at the prospect, the veins on his neck bulging.
‘I’m going to make you wish you’d never been born.’