Welcome to the dark alleyways of hallow city, where slums overtake the posh neighborhoods. The rising cost of living has forced hundreds out into the streets. Unable to buy food never mind pay the rent. Jobs are scarse and the whole place is in disarray, the police doing the best they can to make the place look decent again. Even if it means wiping out the 'scum' that live on the streets.
In the Night :: Allen « Thread Started on Sept 28, 2009, 11:37am »
Amber had had the day off of work. Nick decided to do amateur night once a month. It was a nice break for her, but she still needed somewhere to stay for the night. Tonight was another cold, dark evening in hallow city. She wanted to wear something warmer but knew someone would much rather pull over for a barely clother gal than one all covered up. She did have her coat on, but the only thing covering her legs were a pair of fishnet tights. She wore black heels and short fitted dress that was black. It had a plunging neck and back line and she wasn't wearing anything underneath. As she walked down the street she knew it was only a matter of time before someone would pull up and ask for her to get in.
She was surprised when a man came up behind her. He grabbed her mouth to stop her from screaming and she felt a cloth soaked in chloroform on her lips. She tried not to inhale it but he had it over her prety tight. She fell lim and was dragged into an alleyway and down a set of stairs into a hallway. The culprit then proceeded into a room and tied her limbs to each corner bedpost. She awoke about an hour later to see herself tied up and her clothes gone. The man who had taken her was naked as well and on top of her. He said nothing, simply came over her and pushed himself into her. She moaned and tried to scream but realized she had a gag in her mouth.
She moaned as the man continued to pleasure himself. She felt herself orgasm a few times and she wanted to be let go. When he removed the gag she looked at him. "Please, let me go...I've already climaxed" she stated. He looked at her and pinned her shoulder down. "Shut up whore. You'll be done when I say you're done!" he glared. He slapped her a few times before contiuing his pleasure. He went harder now and began to hurt her. She tried to resist but really couldn't. She screamed for help but no one could here. He put the gag back on her and continued his work. After a few hours, he was finished and cut her free. He left her in the room and proceeded on his way. He left her naked on the bed in tears and with red marks on her face from the slappings.
She saw a phone on the table and wanted to call for help. The cops were no good. She needed someone she could trust. Juliette was busy tonight and Nick was working the club. Then she remembered one person. A name. She had his number. She quickly looked around the room for her purse and found that the little money she had was gone. She searched until she found a small piece of paper with some scribbling on it. It had Allen's number.
She went to the phone and dialed the number, hoping he would answer.
Re: In the Night :: Allen « Reply #1 on Sept 29, 2009, 12:07pm »
IN THE NIGHT I HEAR THEM TALK ...the coldest story ever told --------------------------------------------
far too late into the evening, allen finished the last eighth of his beer in a single, practised swig. the gentlemans club left him utterly dissatisfied. he wasn’t out to find himself a piece, nor was he working, waiting to bust a dirty deal in an equally as dirty a place. he simply was there, existing in the dank shadows as a man would who thought as much of himself as he did the broken buckle on a bar girls shoe. he didn’t want excitement, but he was bored, lougning at the back of the bar while all lights were aimed at the scantily-clad woman swinging her hips onstage, disinterest plastered across his face and one leisurely leg hung over it’s opposites knee. he was watching but not really - evaluating her movements but failing to react like the greasy pimp who owned the place. whomever this amateur was, it was likely one f her last hurrahs. thick peachy cream pooling in the creases of her face and her breasts, tanned dark and low on her chest betrayed her futile cling to youth. nonetheless, allen would have at least bought her dinner.
seeing nothing there to captivate him any longer, the man hauled himself to his feet, not tired but not very awake either. why was he even there, he wondered as he sound of one well-worn black dress shoe scraped the asphalt and announced his entry onto the street. it was quiet, and drizzling, he noticed, before a chilling breeze caught the back of his neck and sent a shiver down his spine, siphoned down to a more human level by the high rises towering overhead. certainly a cold front - he was happy to have a roof over his head tonight. walking alone, hearing a wheeze or plea for change surface from the bowels of every other alley he passed, he couldn’t help but feed into a terrible concern lurking at the back of his mind and working its way forward with every crunch of road grit beneath his feet. not a roof or a plate of food to her name, his thoughts drifted around the image of amber crouched between a dumpster and a wall, seeking shelter from the wind sure to howl through the city ‘till dawn. she’s smart, she would have found someplace safe enough.
of course, she didn’t have a mobile, so he couldn’t call. none of the regular girls were at the club, either - it was their time off, at least they had a day. he had no way of knowing for sure if she would be lively enough to flag someone down who might take her in, but would amber submit to charity? he wouldn’t know until she called him. it was the only way they ever interacted, really - unless she stumbled upon him outside her dressing room, which had happened in the past, allen wasn’t about to deny. he drove home, his beloved carrera a dream purring through narrow one-ways and back streets. home was a fitting match for his personal vehicle on the outside, but past the solid oak front door, crisp and darkly stained to match a contemporary building, it was alarmingly poor. allen was all about appearances, naturally - so long as everyone believed he lived a life of luxury and refinement, he needn’t go to unneccessary measures trying to drive the point home. the only people to visit him there were hookers, and they didn’t need anything past the car he was driving to feel reassured. of course amber knew better by now, the number of times he opened his door up for her, but he wasn’t out to impress her, nor was she out to ruin him. she was probably to only person, at this point, he shared a mutual respect with.
letting himself in and casting his too-light-for-the-weather trench over the back of an old sofa, the wall clock caught his eye. twenty minutes past midnight - nothing good left to watch on television, no beer in the fridge to speak of. unwinding his tie, he let himself wander in the darkness to his room, knees giving out when they met his bed and letting him fall heavily onto a thick duvet, crumpled and twisted in the same position it was when he tossed it aside that morning. allen never made his bed - who was there to impress? before stripping, he pulled his cell and wallet from his back pocket and set them gingerly on the bedside table, realizing, now that he was mere minutes from shutting his eyes for the night, how tired he really was. he did love working under wilson, evil as the man was, however he couldn’t help but feel the cold in his joints when it came to working late, nor the lack of deep, comfortable sleep. he woke every morning with bags under his eyes, dark and heavy, and a sore back. he used to relish in bar fights and chasing down suspects, vaulting fences or whatever else got in his way. but now, when he very seldomly did throw a punch, his shoulders reminded him exactly how hard he hit his target for several days afterwards. his spine would feel like some venomous, amazonian plant was weaving its way through each vertebrae and seizing the muscles surrounding it. his morning workout far passed excruciating - it had recently become his noon workout, after several advil and watching the six o’clock news with two heating pads strapped around his torso.
falling back and pulling the tangle of sheets over his head, exhaustion fogged his mind and consumed his body, knocking him out instantly. a shrill alarm filled his ears what felt like five minutes later, even though his ringing cell phone told him it was three thirty a.m. a numbers he didn’t know were flashing across the screen, scarcely legible through the heavy squint he had to decipher them with with. it rang again, piercing the silence and hurting his ears, and it took a moment of dumbstruck-drowsiness for him to think of answering in order to make it stop. ”hello...” his voice scratched at the insides of his throat, too quiet to be heard and too painful. he swallowed hard, grimacing to no one in particular. ”who’s this?” more alert now, he realized that someone had called him at three thirty in the morning. who the fuck calls someone at three thirty in the morning?! allen demanded again, hearing nothing but breathing, still, on the other end. ”who is this?!”
Re: In the Night :: Allen « Reply #2 on Sept 29, 2009, 4:36pm »
Amber's body ached with pain. The man who had raped her had used force. His hands had slapped her and caused her a great deal of pain. He had thrusted at her so hard that she felt like he had broken something inside her body. She remained curled up in a naked ball. She suddenly saw the clock next to the bed and saw the time, 3:30. 'Oh great' she thought. 'He's going to hate me for waking him up.' She already felt horrible calling Allen. He didn't need to come all the way to where she was in order to get her. Is that what she expected him to do? Obviously so if she was calling him. But it was more than that. She felt like of the three possible people who would come get her. He'd be the one to do it. Nick would but he was working and Juliette was asleep and her parents would find it odd for her to sneak out at this hour. No, Allen was her best bet.
She lay on the bed and heard his impatient voice on the line. She bit her lip and closed her eyes before speaking. "Allen...i---it's Amber..." she said. "I hate to ask you this...but could you come get me" she said in a soft, scared voice. She gave him the cross roads she had been approaching and said she had been dragged into the alley just before it. She hoped he was able to figure out where. She had been drugged and therefore unconcious when being moved to the bedroom. She lay there, the rope still on her wrists and ankles. She'd been cut loose from the bedposts but the man hadn't bother untying the tight knots around her body.
Amber was shaking, feeling hurt. Contrary to what some might believe, she had never really been raped like this. Most of the nights she spent with otehrs she was there willingly...at least for money. And for those nights she didn't particularly like, she sucked it up considerign she'd get paid. It was quite sad. But this man had done his deed and left her there. Nothing else.No $100 bills left or anything. Just here naked, beat body.
Re: In the Night :: Allen « Reply #3 on Oct 1, 2009, 12:14am »
IN THE NIGHT I HEAR THEM TALK ...the coldest story ever told --------------------------------------------
her voice quaked through the speaker as she gave him an address - someplace far enough into the bowels of the city he wouldn’t be leaving his car unlocked. he didn’t have to ask her what she was thinking wandering the backstreets so late, he knew well enough, but something still felt very wrong about the whole situation. of course, the fact that she blatantly told him ‘i was dragged into the alley just before the corner’ raised a few flags, but still, why call him? why not her pimp, who certainly valued her monetarily far more than himself and would dash off to fetch a piece of his income before it was harmed any further; a much safer bet than him. even one of her girlfriends would have made more sense. hanging up, he lied still for a moment trying to wake himself up as much as possible just by thinking. what if she’d been raped? allen didn’t fancy the idea of walking in on an abandoned apartment only to find her broken and bleeding. god, his mind was suddenly speeding to conclusions. she was raped, you moron.
bolting from his room and grabbing clothes as he went, allen paused in front of the bathroom mirror for a second to comb his hair flat with his fingers and throw a fist of cold water on his face. moments later he was back in his carrera, the subtly humming engine sounding more like a scream through endless, empty residential roads. buildings grew taller and closer, a route he knew better than the back of his hand looking like a concrete jungle looming around him, unfamiliar in the stillness of early morning and utterly abandoned. he was diverted at the last moment from ending up at hallow’s police department and crept through one-ways and joined parking lots behind condos, taking full advantage of driving an agile exotic and making his own shortcuts when necessary. after what seemed like hours, he found the corner of fifth and baskerville, the corner amber said she could see before being hauled off. as if on cue, directly to his right was a dead-end caged by two brick apartments. there was an entrance to each, however she hadn’t told him which one, and given the circumstances, it was unlikely she even knew.
”eeny-meeny-miney-mo...” allen had no idea where to begin, but ended up darting off to the double-doors on his right as he reached the end of the strip. the door was unlocked, naturally - no one had lived in these apartments for months, run out of rent by his old friend, mayor suttler. it was a shame; they weren’t even that old, constructed just a few years ago. ”what have you done to this city, reamus?” he wondered aloud. maybe amber would hear him, and shout...or something. jogging up a flight of stairs, he prayed for a sound to a god he didn’t believe in and, expectantly, heard nothing. amber was thin, yes, but even a professional boxer wouldn’t have been able to drag her up more than a couple stories. just off the second landing, through another set of double doors, one apartment was left wide open, dust around the framework disturbed by massive hand prints that suggested it’s occupant, or late occupant, had to juggle both the lock and an awkward load. she had to be inside, but what if the offender was still around? allen didn’t have a firearm on him, nor anything else to make much of a threat with; stupidly, he’d forgotten. nonetheless, amber was inside and the girl was in desperate need of his help.
careful to avoid uneven floorboards and touching other surfaces that may betray his presence, allen made a deliberate beeline for a collection of rooms at the end of a short hallway, waiting to be ambushed or stumble upon amber’s presumed attacker passed out on a sofa after his rather brass attempt at a roll in the hay. the era of criminals with class was all but over; he missed those days. just as he neared the first room, allen could make out breathing, and some rustling on what sounded like mattress springs, but it was nothing hurried or dire enough to be what he feared it might. a piece of water-damaged hardwood groaned under his weight, loudly, out of his neglect to watch where he was stepping. shit.
”amber?” he called for her as he would had they simply crossed paths on the sidewalk. no sense in trying to keep a low profile now, way to blow it. there was no heavy stomping, no shapes coming at him and no response from inside. whomever had grabbed her, he was long gone. still, the grizzled police officer of how many years served couldn’t bring himself to enter, afraid of what he might find. ”amber, are you in there? are you okay?!”
« Last Edit: Oct 1, 2009, 12:17am by Allen Coppola »
Re: In the Night :: Allen « Reply #4 on Oct 1, 2009, 12:32am »
He hung up so abruptly that she couldn't tell if he was angry she called and was ignoring her, or if he was in a mad dash on his way. Time passed and her mind began to wander. Why would he come fore you of all people. Your the slut he's slept with a few times. Nothing more. Why the hell did you call him stupid she thought to herself.
Amber remained on the mattress. She picked at the knots, attempting to get them out so she coudl remove the rope from her limbs, but they were tight and she felt so weak. After a moment, she gave up and hoped that if Allen did in fact come that he would have a knife to cut the rope off.
But was he coming? Amber didn't know. She kind of hoped he would. She felt safer with him, protected. Not just because he was a cop, but because he was older. She liked older men, they provided a sense of security for some reason. She felt important to him, special. But it could have all been in her head.
When she heard the floorboars creak, she cringed, fearing that it might be her attacker coming back for more. However, when Amber heard the voice, she breathed a sigh of relief and gave a weak smirk. Allen...he had come for her.
She felt warm all of a sudden and she tried to look over to respond. "Allen..." she said. Her voice was hoarse and cracked a little when she spoke. She felt hurt and so exhausted that she didn't to even lift a finger. She prayed he heard her.
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