Page 13 of Shadowed With Fear

Pushing my way through the crowd was just as I had expected, twenty minutes to walk ten feet. It doesn’t help there are no signs directing you to open bathrooms either. Despite how unsafe the place looked; I would be lying if I said it hadn’t been fun. My best friend had been acting like her old self again, and that alone was enough for me to say the night was a win. Coupled with the neon lights, screams of laughter, cheesy music, and the delicious smells from the food trucks in the north parking lot, I would even say I was enjoying myself. Maybe even better than The Twilight Zone, pantsless, and eating Brownie-zillas plan, but I’ll never admit it out loud.

To my left, a gap was open, between a ring toss booth and one of those dart-balloon-throwing things, I made my way to the backside of the festival. You know the place where all the vendors hook up to power and the trash gets piled fifteen feet high and the workers use it to avoid the traffic of the crowds.

“What are you doing back here?”

I turned to the voice coming from behind the ring toss booth. It was a man. Most likely middle aged, with a full gray beard, wearing a gray shirt that had security in bold yellow letters, and a dark jacket with the name Cain stitched on the pocket.

“Hello! I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be lurking around. I’m just looking for a bathroom?” My smile was apologetic, and he seemed to soften a bit.

“I gotcha. You’re just short of it actually. It’s a few aisles down,” he pointed a thick finger behind me. Between the stalls, gaps of light from the festival shone in the alley, highlighting each of the aisles he mentioned. “Right by the exit, but you have to leave the park. It’s in the south parking lot. But if you go back out this way,” he motioned to the space I had walked through, “and head toward the entrance, it’s right between the ride park and food trucks.”

“Awesome. Thank you, sir! Have a great evening!”

“You, too, sweetheart. Be careful in these alleys and such, though. There’s a lot of us around here keeping an eye on things, but dark places still aren’t very safe.” His tone was solemn. Almost like he was upset that he couldn’t promise me the safety his job warranted.

“It’s alright, sir. I understand. Thank you.”

He sent me a small wave and turned walking back up the alley. The security guard’s warning, although a little ominous, kind of opened my eyes. He was right. In all the loud commotion and laughter, I had completely forgotten just how unsafe it truly was here, not just the sketchy ass rides. Almost a year ago, I had been wandering around in the dark, alone, just like I am right now, and I had been assaulted, almost raped. In a fucking kid’s playground, for God’s sake. Some city sanctioned celebration wasn’t going to stop creepy assholes from doing whatever the hell they wanted.

With cautious steps, and a glance over my shoulder every few feet, I made my way around the back of the festival toward the south parking lot. It was getting kind of late anyways, if Liz had gotten her slushie(s), she’d most likely want to leave. I definitely wasn’t helping her carry all the oversized shit she had collected through the evening.

The alley began to curve as the booth formed the circle enclosing the festival inside the park. The blind spots weren’t helping my fear in the slightest. It’s not the dark I feared, but the real monsters that may lie inside.

As I came to the edge of the dumpsters lining the back, that icy chill I had felt at home and now on campus crept into my bones. The small hairs on my neck and arms raised. A sharp inhale cut through the muted noise of the alley. My head swiveled in every direction to find the eyes that were staring back at me, but the dark cast too many shadows. Too many places one could hide. I was right in between two of the aisles, no matter which direction I walked, the distance to reach the crowd again was close to fifty yards. Whoever was there would catch me by then.

I put my head down, increasing my pace, watching from my peripheral for any sign of movement, or shadows by my feet. My ears strained to hear a thudding footfall or a labored breath. Nothing. But the cold only grew, filtering through my veins reaching every point inside me. My stomach churned. God, now I really had to pee.

Just as I was approaching the next aisle, a firm hand whipped out, covering my mouth, squeezing my nostrils between the thumb and the side of their forefinger. The other hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me around the wall of dumpsters.

God, no please. Not again. Please no.

This guy was tall. His touch was just as icy as the feeling that had been following me, if not more. It was almost the physical presence of that stare gripping, squeezing, tearing at me. There was one of those masks on his face that all the bad guys in movies wear. The one where their eyes and mouth aren’t covered by the thick fabric, but then you’re left with nothing to identify them, especially in a poorly lit alley.

His breath blew hot across my skin, thick in his disgusting lust, rancid from his intentions. Intention I could feel poking me hard in the stomach, churning the anxious waves into tsunamis of revolting realization. There was no one here this time.

The first time was a complete fluke. It was late as fuck and the park was completely empty. It was luck and sheer luck alone that the guy in the white mask had been walking around.

Now, though. Even if I could scream loud enough to break through the middle of this man’s hand, it would only blend into the cacophony of joyous screams and laughter from the oblivious crowd.

The fear seized every muscle. My breaths grew ragged. By blocking my nose, and holding my mouth, the guy had almost effectively restricted any air that would fill my lungs. My cries grew more faint with each gasping breath. Soon the only noise in the space between the man and me was the whooshing of air sucked between the thin spaces of his fingers covering my lips.

The man leaned closer, the putrid scent of his hot breath wafting across my cheek. His smell was so strong. It was cheap, slicked with sweat, and something acrid like vinegar. He smelled like the inside of a sleazy strip club. Crude. Perverted.

I stiffened when his nose trailed down my jaw and inhaled deeply at my neck. Saliva pooled in my mouth. Nausea settling deep in my stomach, a lump forming in my throat. The acidic taste of bile lying flat against my tongue. Tears pooled on the corners of my eyes, but I fought to keep them from falling. This monster…a real monster…will never see me falter. Never see my fear. It only spurs them on. My jaw clenched and I jutted my chin against his hand in defiance. I wouldn’t stop fighting. No matter what happens, I won’t stop fighting.

A venomous grin pulled at his lips; the tightening felt along my collarbone. He fought to wedge his knee between my closed thighs, winning only once he kicked my ankle to the right at the same time the hand at my waist moved to push my knee to the left. My glare burned into his face. I prayed I would miraculously gain superpowers, and my stare would blind him, burn his face like Superman’s laser eyes.

He lifted his gaze, eyes hard, full of desire, and triumph.

“I have waited so long for this,” he leered. He spoke low, a rumble more than a whisper, rough in a way that it seemed forced, unnatural in his throat. His mouth latched onto the top of my breast through my hoodie. His teeth gripped at the thin skin. His angle had shifted his hand enough that my painful cry sounded louder than any of the others before. I cried, growled, screamed, pushed, squirmed, kicked, but the position he had me in garnered no leverage for anything to make an impact. My energy was beginning to wane. His hand loosened on my mouth only to grip my wrist and wrenched it behind my back to grasp in the hand on the opposite side. The position left me pushing my chest forward, and leaving him with an empty hand, but also, left my mouth free.

I sucked in a large breath and screamed as loud as my body would allow. The man only chuckled because at the moment my voice had peaked, the sky lit with fireworks. The sizzled screech harmonized with my own.

“Oh, please. Don’t stop on my account. The feisty ones are so much more fun. You leave so many more pieces when we finally break you.” My eyes widened as his mouth crashed into mine, his tongue pushing past my teeth, scraping on each incisor. His smell was nothing like his taste. Like everything wrong in the world. Vile, tinged in metallic blood, thick mixed with bile. I gagged, retching, but he never stopped. Neither did his hand, bruising, forcing its way under my hoodie, tearing through my leggings, groping me over my underwear. As the tips of his fingers brushed the waist band, fury glazed my vision.

Perhaps the red I seen was from my anger, the breaking point of feminine rage turning deadly, fatal, a glimpse at the near future with a limp body lying at my feet, or it was from the blood pouring from his mouth down my chin from the gash my teeth ripped into the tip of his tongue.

He ripped away from me cursing loudly. Instantly my feet carried me as far away as fast as possible further down the back alley. I had to be near the south parking lot by now. The security guard said it was a few aisles down. If I get there, I can lock myself in the bathroom and call the police and Liz.