honey?'
Marie nodded. 'It was a pretty bad dream.'
'I know, hon.'
'He came in and-'
Her mother took Marie gently by the shoulders and said, 'It's over, hon. Why don't we talk about something else?'
Marie nodded. 'You're probably right. I think I'll go wash my face and maybe brush my teeth.' Marie was an inveterate brusher. She liked the clean cool taste of toothpaste.
'And being lazy,' her mother said, 'I'll wait right here.'
Marie smiled at the notion of her mother being lazy, and padded into the bathroom.
She sat briefly on the chill toilet seat, peeing, and then stood over the sink. She ran hot water until it steamed and then took a fresh washcloth and let it soak in the hot water. Marie liked to apply a hot cloth to her face like a compress. Afterward, her flesh always tingled and felt alive.
Finished with the washcloth, the nightmare finally receding, she opened up the medicine cabinet, took down her toothbrush and toothpaste, and set to work developing a foamy cleansing solvent for her teeth. She was careful to brush properly to get the maximum benefits from her work.
Done brushing, she ran water over the teeth of her brush, put brush and paste back in the medicine cabinet, and then returned to the living room.
A policeman stood next to the couch. He smiled at her and said, 'Good evening.'
She recognised him at once for who he really was. Even in the uniform, even wearing a hat, it was clear he was the killer she'd seen earlier tonight in the bookstore. 'Your mother was nice enough to let me in.' He smiled again. 'Women are always suckers for uniforms.'
'Where is my mother?' she said.
'She's in the bedroom.'
'What have you done with her?'
He stared at her. 'Calm down.'
'I want to go see her.'
'You're really starting to lose it.'
She turned, and started hobbling down the hallway to her mother's bedroom. Her crippled foot slowed her down considerably.
She heard and felt him right behind her.
Her mother was on the bed. Her clothes had been ripped off her. Her small breasts and tiny thatch of pubic hair gave her a vulnerable look that broke Marie's heart. The gag in her mother's mouth kept her from saying anything. She watched Marie come into the room.
'Did he hurt you?' Marie asked her mother.
Kathleen shook her head. Her face was pale, her eyes frightened.
'Untie her,' Marie said.
He slapped her hard directly across the mouth. Marie soon tasted blood in her mouth.
On the bed, her mother made sounds of protest lost in the gag as she rocked uselessly back and forth, straining at the cloth in her mouth.
'You've got a very nice mother; very co-operative,' the killer said. 'But we've seen enough of her for now. I want to go back to the living room.'
Marie started to complain again but her mother shook her head. Comply, the gesture said. Go along, the gesture said.
Marie stared back at the killer. 'You're going to kill us, aren't you?'
'I don't want to talk right now,' the man said.
He grabbed Marie's shoulder and pushed her toward the door. 'C'mon, now.' Then he wound her hair round his hand and put the knife to her throat. 'And don't try to scream or anything foolish. Do you understand?'
Behind her, Marie heard her mother cry something plaintive behind the gag.
He pushed Marie out into the hall.
When she was halfway toward the living room, he reached for the back of her nightgown and tore it in a single violent motion.
Marie didn't have time to grab it before the two halves of the gown fell away from her entirely. She reacted instinctively by covering her breasts with her hands.
He shoved her into the living room.
He kept staring at her breasts. She could not entirely hide them behind her hands.
At knifepoint, he forced her across the room to the couch. He said nothing. He smelled of sweat and blood. His eyes were crazed. His breath made her nauseous.
He pushed her down on the couch and then dropped down himself and straddled her.
She could feel his sizeable erection pushing against her vagina.
'You're a virgin, aren't you?'
She said nothing. Beneath her shoulder, she could feel the shape of her father's gun.
There had to be some way to reach it-
He pushed his hips tighter into her. 'You are, aren't you?'
'Yes,' she whispered.
He smiled. 'Good.'
He reached down to the warmth between her legs.
His knuckles brushed against her softness.
'Do you like how that feels?'
'No,' she said.
'No?' he said. 'Maybe not right now. But when I'm inside you, you will. I promise you.'
Again her shoulder rubbed the gun. She had to distract him some way.
He brought the point of the knife blade to her throat. 'Do knives scare you?'
'Yes.'
'I kind've thought they would.'
'You could run. I couldn't stop you. You could get away before the police come.'
His face was huge in her eyes. He had yellow, slightly crooked teeth and he needed a shave and blood spattered his nose and cheeks and he smelled oily and filthy. Now his mouth opened wide as a cavern and he laughed. 'Oh, you're real concerned for my welfare, aren't you? That's just what you'd like to see, isn't it? Me get away.' He laughed again, the sound rolling around the dark cave of his open mouth.
He put some pressure on the knife.
She felt the tip of it cut her skin. She felt a tiny drop of blood roll down her neck.
'I'm going to lay this knife right next to me while I'm fucking you. And if you make any noise at all, I'm going to kill you right on the spot. You understand?'
He took his knuckles again and traced them across the shape of her vagina.
'You'll want to get wet, otherwise it's going to hurt a lot.' He grinned with yellow teeth. 'I'm sorry there isn't time for foreplay.'
It was then she brought her knee straight up between his legs and had the satisfaction of feeling her knee collide with his testicles.
He let out an almost amazing groan of pain. He jerked up off her momentarily, just enough so she could roll over on her stomach and touch the shape of the gun with her fingers.
He collapsed on her back, ripping out a handful of hair as he did so. 'You cunt; you're going to pay for that.'
She wanted to cry but she felt so many emotions-terror, pain, rage, uselessness-that she could do nothing but lie there.
And let her fingers gently touch the gun.
He got another handful of hair and started pulling again. Steadily, so the pain would be constant.
'You try that again, and I'll kill your mother first. You understand me, cunt?'
She nodded, sobbed.
