I'm adding three chapters to make up for my abmismal lack of updates :)
“Gerard.” She called out, relieved that someone came looking, she was rather cold now, and disorientated, a little confused as to where she came from.
“Nope. He ain’t here to help you babe” Aimee knew that voice, she woke up screaming with his laugh in her ears. She stumbled as she rose, and a vice-like grip clamped down on her arm.
“Lemme help you babe”
Jackson leered through a half-healed jaw. He dragged her to the swing sets and wound the chains from two swings around her arms, the metal cutting into her papery skin and raising red welts when she moved. In shock, she didn’t scream, she barely struggled. Her eyes were blank and fully dilated.
“Now, babe, I’m gunna fuck you up the pussy, then up the arse, then with this knife here” Jackson flicked a Bowie knife across her neck and a thin trickle of blood traced the line of her collarbone and down between her breasts. Jackson licked it off with a perfectly white straight smile. Too straight, he had dentures after Gerard had knocked out the majority of his teeth. Aimee’s head dropped back with a pitiful whimper, head lolling on her neck.
“Like that didya? Well, there’s a lot more where that came from.” Jackson began to unbutton his pants, and pulled down his boxers with a meaningful look at Aimee’s body. He used the bowie knife to rip off Aimee’s jeans and undies, positioning himself flush against her body, he held the knife up to her throat again, and grabbed her inch-long hair, dragging her head up to meet him. Quickly, he planted a wet, probing kiss on her open mouth and whispered
“Betcha Gerard wishes he’s in my place right now.” A flicker of life sparked in Aimee’s eyes, then, just as Jackson seized her hips to smash into her, she screamed
“GERARD!” and her right foot swung up to meet the rather swollen area in-between Jackson’s legs. He screamed equally loud and collapsed writhing onto the playground. Without sparing a second thought for him, Aimee wrenched her arms free of the chains, ignoring the raw lesions covering her arms and ran for the second time that night.
She had been outside too long, and the cold was slowing her down; shivers racked her body and the drop in temperature formed dew on her clothes and bare legs, raising goose bumps. She couldn’t last out in the cold much longer, she ran towards the first building with lights she could see. Sobbing, wet, half naked and wounded, Aimee hammered on the door begging for sanctuary. An elderly man opened the door suspiciously, and Aimee fell into the warm hallway in a faint.