*Warning: This chapter contains material that you may find distressing, including coarse language and depictions related to themes of rape, abuse and violence.
*****
“There are no accidental meetings between souls.” ~Sheila Burke
I'm Rose Cintilar. Eighteen this year.
And I'm about to be raped.
But I don't know it yet. Because right now, I'm knocked out.
The thing about being knocked out is this: you think you're awake—you feel awake—but you're logged out of memory, so it registers nothing except darkness. Black darkness.
But you feel things.
And I feel that something bad is about to happen. I can feel it in my bones. They are trembling with a chilling sense of fear—the kind that you want to escape from, because you know it'll give you permanent damage… but you're too helpless to run.
Or perhaps I'm dreaming… and it's the cold, damp air of the hour blowing through the open window of my bedroom.
A cold wave washed my chest. And a hyena—no, hyenas... there are two of them—they are laughing....
They’re always laughing. They stole what belongs to me and then they called me a thief. They lied to me and yet they called me a liar.
Daddy… I failed you. Mum… I’m sorry. I should’ve stayed with Aunt. I should’ve listened to her and not give up school. I should’ve stayed in class and not attend that fan meeting. I should be happy with that birthday cake and not ask for more. I should’ve told you two that I love you before you left the house.
Should I even be here?
Yes. A voice—so tiny to be remembered—whispered inside me. You're here because of him. You're here to save him....
Save... him? Who’s him?
I'm the one who needs saving.
No. I deserve this. The voice is right. This is where I belonged. Here. This hellhole.
The hyenas are eating me… they're feeling me for flesh… they're gonna devour me.
So this is it, huh? This is the end for me. Shall I surrender? No one will help me anyway. I don't deserve help anyway.
…. hmm?
Not a hyena?
A ray of light seeped in. Blue. No, white. Round… no crescent. What is it? It wants me to open my eyes.
That strange glow… it wants me to push open up my eyelids.
Mmph!
My eyelids felt like boulders. I can only open a slit. And then closed.
Not a hyena. No. It’s a wolf….
...
“Sweet Jesus… this one’s pretty,” the first thug breathed, carefully stroking the rosy cheek with his knuckles, then sliding them down the beautiful jawline of perfect skin. “Fucking pretty.”
“Mmm…,” moaned the drugged girl, her brows knitting in worry.
Thug number two was anxiously watching the entrance of the small lane, keeping a lookout. He heard his partner in crime and glanced over.
The face of the girl arrested his senses, and his nerves instantly vanished. His gaze widened and he stepped away from his post as though in a trance. “Man, she looks like an angel. Why she wear those damn specs? Those thick ugly specs nearly scammed us, hee, hee, hee….” A cackle slipped from his charred lips.
They saw her alone, face down, walking down the street, and decided then and there. And they followed her.
They hurried behind her, watching her every move—that jumper seemed to swallow her, the skinny jeans looked too loose for her scrawny legs, and those sneakers seemed to have come from the sewage.
Everything about her spelled disaster for sex. But the two thugs didn't care—so long she has boobs and a pussy, they want her.
What a hot chick she turned out to be!
“This one’s better than the last one, Carl.” Thug Two licked his upper lip at the thought of that bombshell red-haired college student they had nabbed into their van last week.
They’d accidentally smothered her yesterday. And now, she rests at the bottom of the sea, in a potato sack to keep her warm.
“Told you this is more exciting than the back of a van, eh Nick?” Carl leaned in to the slender neck peeping from the gir’s jumper. He took a whiff and sighed in a daze. “Fuck… she smells good too.” His flustered fingers started unbuckling her jeans.
The girl’s hands suddenly grew stronger and pushed the thick hands away. “Stop… please stop….”
SLAP!
"Mmph!" the girl shrieked in pain and spilled a sob.
“Shut up, you whore!” Carl barked.
And the girl began to whimper in helpless distress while Nick hastily pinned the girl’s wrists above her head.
“Stop that, Carl! Someone will hear you! Hurry!” He was breathing heavily from the fear of being caught and the excitement of what he was about to taste.
Carl impatiently yanked down the girl’s jeans. “Stop rushing me, motherfucker!” He pushed up the hideous jumper and planted his filthy lips on the soft, rosy skin. “Mmm… She tastes like milk and honey. Fucking bitch. Playing hard to get. Let’s free those damn tits.”
“No….” The girl squirmed in a fruitless effort to stop those lustful hands as they pushed the cheap bra up.
Two perky rosebuds stood proudly in the dim light.
Nick swallowed hard at the perfect round globes, aching with lust. “Fuck….” He was stroking himself faster inside his pants. “Damn it, Carl! HURRY!”
“Alright! Fucking weed whore….,” grumbled Carl as he pushed down his own pants. “Hee, hee, hee….” His eyes fixed on the beautiful creature, her exquisite features strained with distress. “Daddy’s gonna make your pussy feel reeeally good….” Carl nervously positioned himself at the entrance—.
“Grrrrr….”
An animalistic snarl rumbled over their heavy breathing and the girl’s pathetic moans.
Nick squealed, “Erm, Carl…?”
“Shut up, Nick! I need to concentrate!” Carl pushed aside the girl’s panties and moved closer.
“GRRRR… GRRR!!!!”
His thing couldn’t go in. Impatience skyrocketed in him and Carl jerked up a furious face.
“ARGH! WHAT THE FUCK, NICK! Wait for your fucking turn, man! What are you, a fucking werewolf?”
But Nick was shivering in the corner, his feet shuffling and sliding backwards frantically to press his back against the wall, as though he was desperately trying to get away from something.
“WHAT NOW!” Carl slapped away the shaking finger that was pointing at something behind him. “ What the fuck is wrong with you!”
“Not me… him… a giant wolf,” Nick continued in a tiny squeak, barely audible amidst the loud ferocious, animalistic growl. “A GIANT ASS WOLF!” He looked like he was about to pee in his pants.
“GRRRRRRRR….”
Then Carl heard it.
The air around him turned deathly cold. A chill seized the hairs on his arms—a chilling sense of premonition that his throat was about to be slashed wide open and blood would spurt from it like the fountain of death.
Slowly, he turned around… and his heart jumped to his throat.
A giant wolf. As dark as the shadow from which it emerged. Three times the size of a full-grown lion with fangs as sharp as icicles. Its blue eyes were glowing in the dark like the devil's gaze… burning with rage—cold, killing rage.
A scream of pure terror ripped from Carl’s lips…
High up above the dark alley, in the vast curve of silent darkness, the wispy cloud drew apart like the curtains of a stage, revealing the divine beauty of the round, silver moon—glowing warmly, shining peacefully as it watched over all those borne from her strength and kindness.
Finally, the lost wolf had reconnected with his Moon Goddess.
Come home, Keithen... The deity's whisper of motherly love silked through the breeze, becoming vapour as it lowers to the surface, condensing to morning dew everywhere. Come home to us... We're waiting for you... We need you...
*****
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ROSE 12 hours earlier… A tear slipped under my thick brown rim of specs and rolled down my left cheek as I stared in yet another disbelief at my work, beautifully blown up on the screen, presented by the head of the styling team to B.A.D’s management team as another one of her creations. They did it again. Those so-called stylists—veterans in their own rights of knowledge, skills, and years of experience—had once again played me. Just to steal my styling idea. An idea that was woven from my father’s gift of creativity. My name is Rose Cintilar. Eighteen. Three years ago, I came to B.A.D, the top talent agency of the U.R.T, with hopes of becoming a famous stylist. My father had always wanted to be one when he was alive, and since I inherited his vibrant creativity, I saw it as my life goal to make his wish come true. It was the least I could do to make amends for what I'd done. If it wasn’t for me, my parents wouldn’t have died. This, I heard from my aunt ever since she took
*Warning: This chapter contains material you may find distressing, including coarse language and depictions related to themes of abuse and violence. ***** ROSE I can’t believe this is happening! This is my chance! Imagine working for Rum! I can carry his bag, tell him his schedule, talk to him… watch him as he crafts his music… as he eats and drinks… exercise… I wonder if he exercised. Oh! I can be backstage while he performs—I get to have an exclusive view of him! “Assistant? Me?” The model laughed in a glorious chime. “I’m too good for that, don’t you think?” The bombshell swivelled back to the front and her finger stroked her phone screen once more as she continued mooning over Rum. “But I do like the idea,” she muttered absently. “Those electrifying blue eyes. Being near them 24-7… ooh! Just the thought of it makes my skin tingle! But why are they getting someone from the company staff? Rum's a superstar! Shouldn’t they hire a professional from the outside?” The stylist ch
*Warning: This chapter contains material you may find distressing, including coarse language and depictions related to themes of sex, rape, abuse and violence. ***** RUM An hour earlier… “HARDER! HARDER, RUM BABY!” My hand shot out to cover those pretty red lips as I continued slamming into her, hard and fast… and wild. “Shut the fuck up!” I hissed. “You want people to hear us!” She shook her head as more moans slipped through her greasy lips. “Oh God… fuck, you’re so good, baby! It’s so big… it’s tearing me apart!” “Really?” I got onto the conference room table, clamped her knees together and pressed her down, and pounded into her, swift and rough. “How’s this? Like this, Annie?” “Mmm!!!” She nodded fiercely. “Mmmm!!!!” “Who says you’re loose down here, huh?” I lifted and plunged into her, deeply and viciously. “Take all of me, you slut.” “Yes, I’m your slut! Give me, Rum baby. I love it so… OOH!” The thirty-something divorcee groaned, tormented bliss spread across h
*Warning: This chapter contains material you may find distressing, including coarse language and depictions related to themes of sex, rape, abuse and violence. ***** RUM They took the first turn. Which means they'll end up at the alleyway a few lanes from B.A.D's back alley. That's the darkest corner around here, easy to miss, and even easier to rob, take a sniff, kill… and rape. I stepped out from behind the lamp post. Stingy motherfuckers. Can't pay the hookers so they grab any pussy from the streets. I clicked my knuckles and turned my neck. Yeah…it's time for these powerful fists to meet some flesh and crack some bones. I've got nothing against thugs, but I hate people who don't pay for sex, especially when I have to pay for it–with every bit of what I have on me. I halted as a familiar voice sprang out like jack-in-the-box. Mind your own business, Rum… Stay out of trouble…. I gripped into fists and winced with a reluctant obedience. "Argh!!!" Fuck you, Danny! I s
ROSE Something warm and glowing fell on my eyes. I pushed open my lids and my small, cluttered desk greeted me. I was back in my own room. What happened? I rubbed my eyes and tried to recall the most recent events. I sent out my application to be Rum’s assistant… then I left B.A.D by my usual route… and then… and then something–someone– covered my nose and mouth, and there was a strange smell, and… voices! My eyes flew open in aghast, and I screamed a piercing scream. “AH!!!” The door flew open and my roommate, Joy Fairchild, a 24-year-old chemistry grad student of M.A.D. University, crashed through in her pink piggy-print pyjamas and boyish short hair, shouting frantically, “What is it? What’s wrong?” She knelt in front of my bed and I grabbed her arms. “They took me!” “Who’s 'they'?” “T-the team!” Joy jolted upright to hug me and started rubbing the back of my head soothingly. “Those half-ass carbon monoxides? No. They didn’t get you, Rose. Not this time.” But I coul
*Warning: This chapter contains material you may find distressing, including coarse language and depictions related to themes of sex, abuse and violence. ***** RUM “YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!” Annie’s screams blasted from my phone. “YOU JUST INSULTED ME IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE ENTERTAINMENT INDUSTRY!” I stared at my own reflection in the mirror of the male restroom, my face deadpan, my arm stretched far enough to keep my ears away from the horrible blaring. Another screamer. What the fuck is wrong with these people? Why can’t they come to me and scream in my face? Why must they always scream into their phones? Did my ears do something wrong to them? I placed the phone to my ear again and said calmly with the smile of Mother Mary, “Calm down, babe. You know I never mean to insult you.” Fuck you, bitch. If I was truly insulting you, I wouldn’t be this kind. She scoffed condescendingly. “Then give me one good reason why you chose that dipshit over me.” My eyes narrowed into
ROSE “Where the hell were you?” Those electrifying blue eyes glared at me. “And–.” A hand clamped half his face as his brows furrowed in horror. “And what the hell is that smell?” Shit water. A special concoction made by an extraordinary team of professional stylists. That’s right. Instead of perfecting their concepts of style for their artistes, they perfected their recipe for dirty water—the stench is stronger and more powerful; it doesn’t come off even after multiple washes, which was what I had been doing in the past hour since Rum called. But standing before him, I find myself stumped. I can’t tell him the truth. I don’t want him to think that I’m full of excuses. I’m having a fresh clean start with my next favourite person on Earth. He stood. And all movement and sound halted. “Did you hear what I said?” His voice was soft, yet low and threatening. I couldn’t look away. A chilling fear was creeping up my back. “Y-Yes…M-Mr.—.” “THEN ANSWER ME!” he roared. Terro
RUM Don’t smile like that. It’s revolting…. Revolting? Far from it. I literally can’t feel my face when she smiles. Damn it! That's some swag lyrics. And it’s already taken. Why didn’t I think of it before that guy? “That’s good, Rum. Intense gaze…,” the photographer coaxed. “More intense.” I did accordingly, working my thick, manly brows and fierce eyes. But I found myself stealing glances at my new assistant. I knew she was here the second the door opened. Her powerful scent could never be missed. Then, I saw her at that loser spot behind the staff, between the stylist and the PR exec. Rose Cintilar… just a dab of gloss and her lips are glowing like cherries. They must be blind to not have noticed it. Her eyes… they sparkle like the purest crystals; those large ugly frames can’t even hide an inch of their beauty. Drowned victim? Ha! The longer I looked at her, the wilder the pounding in my chest. Yeah, she looked ghastly. But I knew what was underneath all those fabrics.