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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Other · #1982068
This is a book I am writing.
I woke up on this glorious morning with a feeling of relaxation and endless chances for a great day ahead. My dreams had been vivid and intense. I dreamed of green flowing grass fields and aspen forests plentiful with a bounty of resources. The smells of the pine needles from the ever so moving trees above me seemed to permeate in through my nose and into my lungs with each breath. I was an intricate piece of the nature and life around me. By immersing myself alone in this environment there is a comfortable clarity like no other. I was naked with possessions and lost without nothing. There is a pathway each of us must find to our own blissful destination.

My name is Dalton Grey. This story is an account of anything and everything. I don't have a picture in my mind of how this going to go, so maybe the starting point should be.....

There was a quiet hampered tremble coming from deep inside of her loins. She was alone with only desperation and exhaustion of the unknown. Her legs and hands were bound with strands of old rope that had probably been lying in a dusty dark corner for years. The parched flaky blood remnants still showed its place on her wrists and ankles. The struggle for freedom had been intense and short lived.
Her ultimate goal now was to listen for the slightest movement or sound. The creaks and moans coming from the hard floor underneath felt like a freight train passing by just inches away. Terror had taken over and grabbed her with its sharp crushing claws. The initial adrenaline rush had come and gone. Exhaustion and weakness snuck up on her quickly like a microburst of wind in the early spring.
Then it came. The permeating echo of a heel, then toe, then heel, then toe on the same wood floor she had been trapped on for hours. The feeling of each step coming toward her direction shook and rumbled through each and every pore. As the adrenaline returned the threat became more prevalent. The rush and intensity was inside of her again. Fear turned her weakness into strength and anticipation. Her body and mind were connected and ready as one to take on the threat that approached and inched closer with each step. He had returned.
The stench and feeling of his breath on her face brought reminders and painful memories of the events that had taken place just hours ago. It smelled like a mixture of onions and foul meat left to rot in a scorching desert for days.
Then he grabbed the end of the rope that was so tightly bound around her wrist and pulled. In an instant she was dragged along the wood floor to the other side of the room. She let out a blood curdling scream as her body slid across the floor like a bag of potatoes. This loud noise frustrated the man to the point of anger. It was a bad move for her. As the screaming continued she saw him grab a wooden ax handle that was placed in reaching distance of his dry cracked hands. With a swift blow to the temple she lay motionless and the abrupt silence calmed his desperate nerves.

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