Hero

Chapter Thirteen

Adelle Smith awoke with a start. Her hand flew to her throat. She’d had a dream that she was being strangled. She looked around her room, reassuring herself that it was just a dream while taking in deep breaths to calm her heart rate.

The room smelled horrible, and there was a burning itch centered in the small of her back now. Definitely a bedsore. Maybe several. Her left side ached and her entire body throbbed from the contortions her muscles had been put through while the stun gun and the cattle prod had dumped agonizing currents of electricity into her body.

She was relaxed now, the dream forgotten, reality once again impressing itself upon her with far more urgency and intensity than any nightmare ever could. And for the first time she realized she was naked.

Naked and lying in her own filth.

And Natsinet was standing at the foot of the bed, that evil look on her face again.

Please, no, Adelle thought, not even knowing why she silently begged the nurse to not torture her anymore. She was just going to do it anyway.

“We’re going to start a new therapy technique,” Natsinet said. She was leaning forward, her features impassive. No emotion in her eyes. “It’s very similar to the therapy we’ve been engaging in but this one is…well, not only less painful but a little more…how shall I say? Invasive.”

Natsinet held up her right hand and Adelle saw with mind numbing horror that she was holding a black pistol. Adelle recognized it immediately. It was her Sig Sauer nine millimeter, the one she kept stashed in her magazine rack. Tonya was supposed to have—

“Did you know that gun crimes in this country, in this part of the city, stem from criminals that break into homes only to use weapons like this against their owners? Ironic isn’t it?” Natsinet raised the Sig. “Most of the guns used in the commission of a crime are stolen from people like you.”

She wouldn’t dare shoot me, Adelle thought, her mind racing. She wouldn’t dare!

“Let’s get you tied down.” Setting the gun down on the bureau, Natsinet tied Adelle’s right side to the bed rest and then bound both legs to the lower part of the bed. Adelle struggled and was able to muster a loud “Waaahhhh!” sound.

“Shut up!” A hard slap to the face cut off her feeble attempt at a cry for help.

When Natsinet was finished she resumed her position at the foot of the bed.

“Once again, this is very similar to the therapy we’ve worked on before. Only there’s a big difference this time.”

As she spoke, Natsinet pulled Adelle’s right leg away from her prone and lame left leg. With her groin exposed, Adelle felt more vulnerable than ever.

“As you can see, I didn’t tie you down that tight. You have room to move. In fact, you have room to scrunch yourself back a good five, maybe ten inches. If you do that, you can use your right leg to maneuver yourself out of this rope I’ve got strapping you down and if you get that far, we can call it a day. How’s that sound?”

Adelle’s heart was racing. Somehow, she knew that what Natsinet had in store was going to be worse than all of her other so-called therapies combined.

Natsinet retrieved the Sig from the bureau, brandishing it coyly.

“I found this and the other gun in the closet. You’re one mean old lady, Mrs. Smith. How many times you ever had to use one of these?”

If I could get my hands on my nine now I’d empty the thing in your head!

“Of course, if I lived in this shithole you call a home, I’d be armed with one of these too. In fact, I’d carry it everywhere I went in this neighborhood. You got some mean-looking motherfuckers that live in this neighborhood, Mrs. Smith. A bunch of them have been hanging out across the street from your building. Oh, I got them pegged, just like I got you pegged first time I saw you. Bunch of grown men wasting the day hanging around doing nothing when they should be out there doing something with their lives. They’re probably the local pimps and drug dealers, aren’t they Mrs. Smith?”

She’s talking about Mike Simmons and his crew, Adelle thought. She knew the streets had claimed Mike but whenever she saw him she still tried to steer him in the right direction. She had the feeling Mike appreciated and respected that gesture; for as long as she’d lived in this neighborhood she’d never been the victim of a crime, nor had her apartment been broken into. She tried to look after Mike and his crew and they looked after her.

“I bet you know exactly what they do and you don’t do shit about it,” Natsinet continued. Adelle realized that Natsinet was on one of her psychotic rants again. The thought of how this was going to end up made her heart race faster. “So much for being a community activist and being a big ‘ol Civil Rights leader, trying to save your people from the streets. You didn’t save those thugs from shit!”

There you go generalizing again, Adelle thought. What if they weren’t thugs and were just guys from the neighborhood hanging out? You’d still brush them under the same rug because that’s how you see all of us. As thugs.

“Anyway, you shouldn’t have guns in your house, Mrs. Smith, because low-lifes like the guys outside are liable to break in here, beat, rob and rape you and then kill you with this thing and then use it to commit other crimes.” Natsinet’s left hand began massaging her clitoris and Adelle recoiled from the touch.

My God! What the hell is she doin’ now?

“So we’re going to up our therapy a bit so we can get you back in shape again. That way you’ll be physically fit to deal with the lowlifes outside. So here’s how we’re going to do it.” Natsinet’s index and middle finger worked their way into her dry vagina. “I’m going to slowly insert the barrel of this gun up your old shriveled up vagina and you have to get away. If you can get away—”

“Naaaaaaooooohhhhhh!” Adelle yelled, the muscles of her neck straining as she exerted all her strength in trying to get away. Her right side felt the straps and rope give way slightly, but her left side was still sluggish to respond.

“—then you’ll be able avoid me pulling the trigger. Now if— ”

“Aaaaaaaauuuuuughhhh!” The sore at the small of her lower back screamed in pain along with the various brush burns along various parts of her body as she tried to avoid Natsinet’s fingers.

Natsinet moved the barrel of the gun forward, close to the lips of her clitoris. “—I do pull the trigger, well then I’m willing to bet the police will believe me when I tell them those guys across the street broke in here, knocked me out and did this to you. I bet they got police records a mile long.”

“Naaaaoooghhhhh!” Adelle was yelling no and it was being articulated the best way she could under the circumstances. Her heart was beating so fast, her breathing was coming on so quick, that she felt light-headed.

No, no, please don’t do this, oh God, I can’t breathe—

“So just try to keep this gun from invading your vagina by moving your body back five, maybe ten inches and you’ll be fine.”

A sudden burst of adrenaline poured into Adelle’s system and she pushed herself back, momentarily avoiding Natsinet’s probing fingers. She felt herself swoon. Her breath was coming in harsh, heavy pants. Once again, she felt Natsinet’s fingers probe at her clitoris and she felt the cold steel of the Sig Sauer’s barrel begin to force its way inside her.

“Naaaaaaooooohhhhhhh!” Adelle yelled, her throat searing in pain at the intensity of the scream. She felt hot, feverish, like she was going to pass out.

Natsinet was on the bed, working the barrel of the gun further inside her. Adelle saw that the nurse’s finger was on the trigger.

Then there was a sudden hot burst of pain exploding inside her as the barrel tore into the soft, dry tissue of her vagina. Adelle’s muscles, already overworked and still sore from the past two weeks, refused to move. Adelle screamed again, her vision clouding in darkness as she fought to catch her breath.

And then Natsinet grinned and pulled the trigger.

And the darkness consumed Adelle and took her down.

The pain woke her up.

She came to suddenly, taking in a great lungful of air, eyes flying open. Natsinet was still at the foot of the bed, grinning that evil grin of hers. Her private parts were on fire.

She saw that in her panic she’d soiled the bed again.

The suddenness of everything, the over-exertion of her muscles, her nervous system, her emotions, sent her stomach roiling. She leaned forward and threw up, the vomit spattering in her lap and pooling at the sides of her thighs, stinging the healing burns along her flesh.

“Oh, you didn’t throw up!” Natsinet said.

Adelle’s stomach clenched in on itself. She threw up again, unable to control herself.

“You fucking bitch!” Natsinet was standing at the side of her bed now, on her left side. “The goddamn gun wasn’t even loaded!”

Adelle struggled to catch her breath. Her head was still swooning and she could feel her heart racing. Please don’t let this send me into another stroke or—God forbid—a heart attack!

“Goddammit!”

Adelle caught a glimpse of Natsinet out the corner of her eye as she raised her hand over her head and brought it down. Time seemed to slow to a crawl for a brief moment as Adelle realized the nurse was holding the gun by the barrel. She tried to throw herself forward, tried to get out of the way, but the grip of the gun caught her hard on the back of the head, this time sending her into a much deeper pool of darkness.

But not so deep that she was unable to hear the sound of keys unlocking the front door to her apartment, nor hear the door open and a voice call out, “Natsinet, you there?”