ABDUCTED (A Twisted Tale)
By Scarlett Nighte
Published by Quiver Publishing at Smashwords
Copyright 2011 Scarlett Nighte
Cady Roberts is on a road trip to Omaha with her parents in celebration of her high school graduation when a psychotic trucker abducts her for his personal, sexual use. When she finds out that she’s not the first, and he has a stash of girls just like her tucked away in his dilapidated home, she plays along in hopes to save them all…and teach her abductor a lesson he’ll never forget.
Abducted (A Twisted Tale) is an erotic horror about a desire so evil and revenge so sweet.
Content warning: Abducted (Twisted Tales) features a short story about kidnapping, non-consensual sex, graphic sex, gore, and violence. 18+ only…if you think movies like Saw, Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, and Hard Candy were too much, Abducted probably isn’t your cup of tea.
E-book License Edition Notes
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***
I let out a groan of frustration as Dad steered the RV into Lucky Truck Gas and Diner, just outside the North Carolina/Virginia border. I was still trying to figure out how my family’s impromptu trek to Omaha was a graduation present and not a bonafide nightmare.
I hadn’t wanted to dash Dad’s excitement when he sprung it on me a few days ago, but looking at the skeevy truck top we were stopping at for the evening, I was starting to regret my decision. For the twentieth time. In twenty-four hours.
“Everybody out front so I can snap a picture!” Mom said, barely hiding her delight. Everyone always said I was the spitting image of her, even though I’d died my golden hair black a year ago. We still had the same acorn shaped blue eyes and slender frame with exotic curves in the front and the back. Looks were where the similarities stopped…she flaunted her body every chance she got—I tried to downplay mine. She was a housewife and loved spending her days cleaning and pampering me and Dad, I couldn’t wait to study art or film at NYU and live out of a suitcase.
I rolled my eyes and forced a smile as I pushed out of the stuffy cab. My Dad sold luxury sedans for a living—a little piece of me hoped when he’d told me he had a huge graduation surprise I’d open a tiny box with a set of keys inside. Hell, I would have even taken a real family vacation to Myrtle Beach or somewhere foreign. Instead, I was traipsing about the interstate with my camera-happy parents, locked in a smelly old RV.
“This is really something, huh kiddo?” Dad gushed, looking around like he was in the Louvre.
“It’s something alright,” I said sarcastically, ruffling my hair.
Mom’s eyes went wide. “You think they’ll let us park the RV here for the night?”
My mouth fell open. “You can’t be serious. It’s a truck stop. For trucks. And sketchy ass truckers.”
“Language,” Dad said with warning in his voice.
I was eighteen and they still treated me like I was twelve.
Dad threw an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close. “Just look around, Cady! Doesn’t it just feel authentic and magical?”
My eyes were drawn to the rows of eighteen wheelers sitting like dark mountains of metal under the stars. I pulled my skirt from my sticky legs and tightened my cardigan around my chest. What the hell were my parents thinking parading about a truck stop at night?
The harsh fluorescent lights made me feel like I was center stage: Main Attraction-Fresh Meat! I hadn’t liked that feeling when I gave the valedictorian speech last week, and I liked it even less now.
Casting a final scowl at my parents snapping random pictures, I headed toward the gas station.
“Sweetie, grab me a diet Coke!” Mom called after me.
“And a ginger ale for me!” Dad added.
“Vacation, huh,” I muttered as I pushed through the glass door. Every second I felt more and more like I was being punished.
I cast a glance at the shabby interior of the station. The whole lobby seemed to be covered in a dusty haze. Must and sour milk hung heavy in the air, making me clasp my nose shut. It was a pointless gesture…the odor had already sunk down to the bone.
Behind the register, there was an elderly woman whose gray hair hung in dreadlocked clumps, like a dirty mop head. She puffed on a cigarette, the smoke swirling from her fleshy lips.
“Just get the drinks and get out of here,” I whispered to myself, steering toward the drink aisle. I stopped as soon as I arrived, right by the Reeses and gummibears. I’d discovered the source of the horrible spoilt smell.
There was an expansive, rusty cooler with a fluorescent light that flickered on and off. None of the machines buzzed or kept the drinks cool. Not that refrigeration would have mattered—I had an inkling that most of the stuff on the shelves were expired.
I gagged as a wave of the stench smacked me in the face as a massive man pulled open one of the coolers, swiping a six pack of beer. He was middle aged, late 40’s if I had to guess, with chin length salt and pepper hair that hung like daggers. His eyes were gray and intent, like he was taking everything in. He was dressed in a red plaid button-down shirt and work jeans with harsh, black boots that thudded against the peeling linoleum as he walked toward me. It almost seemed like the thin aisle yawned and stretched to make room for his domineering stature.
I staggered backward and the man perked a bushy eyebrow.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, kid,” he said, with a hint of amusement in his voice. “You just look a little yellow.”
I tried to smile, but I had a feeling it came out as more of a grimace. “Eight hours on the road with my parents and they pull into the sketchiest gas station they could find. I love them to death, but sometimes I just wish someone would come rescue me.” As soon as the last words came out of my mouth, my cheeks burned hot. Why was I talking to a random trucker in this rancid place? I didn’t know this dude from Adam and I was chatting him up like we were old chums. “I-I mean-” I swallowed. “Nevermind.”
I turned to go, ignoring two sets of eyes boring into my taut back.
When I came out of the convenience store empty handed, Mom frowned. “They were out of Coke?”
“You’re out of your mind to eat anything from that place. Can we just go?” I snapped, heading to the back door.
Dad stopped me, his green eyes pleading. “Come on, Cady,” he begged. “This is our last family outing before you go off to college. One picture.”
I froze and turned back to face them, not even bothering to hide my agitation. “Then we’ll go?”
“Then we’ll go,” Dad affirmed, clutching his camera. “Scout’s honor.”
“Fine,” I said with a groan, marching back to the hood of the RV where they stood with smiles so big they made my teeth hurt. I saddled up next to Mom, forcing a smile.
“Alright ladies,” Dad said from behind the camera. “One, two-”
“Don’t you wanna be in the picture?”
The three of us turned to the interruption. I swallowed hard. It was the trucker from inside the store, still holding his beer. He set his steely eyes on Dad. “I could take the picture for you, if you’d like.”
“Uh,” Dad said nervously. “That’s really nice of you, but-”
“It’s just a picture,” the trucker laughed.
“We don’t want to be a bother,” Mom added.
“Oh there’s no bother,” the trucker shrugged. He gestured at a scarlet rig that sat idly in the line of eighteen wheelers. “My ride’s not going anywhere or anything.”
Dad ran a shaky hand through his short gray hair. “Er, uh-”
“I’m not asking for your first born or anything.”
“Well it’s too late for that anyway,” Dad said with a small smile. “All we have is Cady and she’s headed off to New York in a few months.”
“Dad!” I hissed embarrassedly, my eyes going round. I’d already overshared with the random guy, I really didn’t want him to know my life story. I faltered as the trucker took Dad’s place, holding the camera to his rugged face.
“Alright,” he said gruffly, his finger on the trigger. “One, two, three…smile!”
The flash was jarring and I closed my eyes, pulling an arm to cover my face. I half expected Mom to complain and insist on another, but she just stood beside Dad, speechless for the first time in over a hundred miles.
“Well, uh, thanks sir,” Dad said with a genuine grin. “We sure appreciate it.”
“Oh, well it was my pleasure,” the trucker said, handing over the camera. “You sure have a beautiful family.” When he said the word ‘beautiful’, his eyes locked on mine. I broke his gaze and turned back to the door, suddenly just wanting to get out of there. For once, Dad took the hint.
As Dad revved the engine and pulled out of the parking lot and we were finally putting this whole creepy experience behind us, Mom gasped.
Dad pumped the brakes, looking over at her. “What’s wrong, Cindy? You forget something?”
She shook her head. “N-nothing. It’s nothing. He’s just-” Her voice trailed off as she glanced at the side mirror.
When I saw what she was looking at, my heart stuttered in my chest. The trucker stood where we left him, still as a statue, just watching our RV.
“It’s nothing,” Dad assured us. “I’m sure he’s just seeing us off.”
“Seeing us off?” I repeated. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Dad said, waving a dismissive hand. “We’re gassed up and headed to Omaha.”
I turned away from the window, pushing away the sliver of fear that caught in my throat.
***
I lied back on my plush bed at Lilith Inn, giving myself an unconscious pat on the back. I’d played the freaked out card well, convincing Dad that the bizarre trucker had gotten under my skin. He’d acquiesced and agreed to some secure lodging over sticking it out in the RV.
I stared out into the cool dark, watching the shadows flutter and shake on the bleach white walls. I felt a little guilty now that I was alone with my thoughts. Dad had a point…this was our last family thing before I left for school, before I embarked out into the wide world and made my mark. It was wrong for me to wish that I could just fast forward to August and skip this pesky road trip.
It wasn’t my fault. I mean, my parents were playing I spy for crissakes. I’d eaten nothing but fast food gunk and soft drinks for the past few days. And then there was the weird trucker from earlier.
In my locked, comfortable room with my sleeping parents a few feet away, I let myself fully relax. I closed my eyes and willed sleep to come…God only knew when my Dad would drop money on a hotel room again. I needed to enjoy the luxuries of a bed that didn’t feel like a wooden plank and central air while I could.
But when I closed my eyes, I could still see the trucker’s stormy gray eyes boring into mine, staring like some love-struck gargoyle as we pulled back onto the highway. That coupled with the word vomit that I spewed in the store and his unconscious wink when he said beautiful, I was thoroughly bothered.
I pushed back the covers and padded to my backpack, pulling out a wrinkled dollar bill. My throat was parched. There was a room temperature bottle of water, but I wasn’t going to get any z’s anyway, so I might as well drink something with a little kick.
I eased from the room, trying not to disturb my parents as I pushed out into the hallway. It was deserted, almost like we were the only people on the whole floor. There was no hum of the TV, no buzz of the central air. It took me back to that creepy truck stop, just giving me a new wave of the heeby jeebies.
“Stop it,” I ordered myself as I turned into the concession nook. We’d put over a hundred miles between us and that godforsaken place. I had bigger problems to worry about, like spending another couple of days in a musty RV with my folks only to spend a couple of miserable summer days at my grandmothers in Nebraska.
I let out a sigh as I sunk my dollar in the machine. I scanned the rows. What was I in the mood for? There was coke, sprite, fanta-
THUD.
“What the-“ I gasped. I walked over to the closed door, knots forming in my throat. I pulled the door back open and stuck my head back in the hall, trying to find a reason for the closed door. There was no explanation…the hall was as vacant and unsettling as before.
I popped back in the room and punched the sprite button and swiped my drink. When I stepped back in the hallway, a stream of blinding light filtered in from the secured exit door. I squinted through the light. What fucking idiot was sitting in their car with their lights on full blast at 2am?
I took a step forward, feeling the urge to flip the driver off. The lights dimmed and my heart stopped.
It was a truck…the blood red one the creepy trucker pointed out before he snapped our picture.
Panicking, I booked it down the hall, my mind going in a million directions. It had to be a coincidence. Maybe a different trucker. I wanted, NEEDED there to be some rational explanation because if there wasn’t, it left only one other reason. He was following us.
I was so close to our hotel room that I let myself calm down. Breathe…just breathe. I just needed to swipe my card in the-
My whole body exploded with sensation as a rough hand covered my mouth and a plaid arm lifted me with ease and drug me into the adjacent room.
It was pitch black and my whole body shook as I struggled and tried to scream. His grip was solid and while I was hollering, biting, gnawing beneath his calloused hands, barely a strangled whimper filtered out.
“You said you wanted to be rescued,” the trucker whispered. “Consider me your Prince Charming.”
I shook my head and tried to choke out a scream but he only tightened his grip, hurting me.
“You can scream all you want, bitch,” he said cruelly. When his other hand trailed down to my breasts, my blood ran cold. “You’re mine now. All mine.”
***
My eyelids fluttered, but they felt so heavy. It reminded me of senior prom when Scotty and I drank those wine coolers in the limousine. I'd always had a thing for Scotty but never had the guts to come right out and say it. Everything had gone topsy turvy and my body moved with a mind of its own. The alcohol gave me liquid courage and before I knew it, my fingers were lifting my dress and pulling at his fly. I'd told my body to go slow and savor my first time, but it had other plans.
Right now, I told it to wake up. Clearly, I'd had a really, really vivid nightmare about that creepy trucker following us to the hotel in West Virginia, dragging me into his hotel room and sticking me with a syringe. But that couldn't have really happened. Mom always said I had an overactive imagination. It would serve me well at NYU, but right now, it was just freaking me out.
I heard a familiar voice.
"...this is a picture of her. She just graduated. She was valedictorian of her class."
"You must be so proud," a gruff voice responded.
"I am. She's our baby. Our only daughter. This road trip was her graduation present. But now...I'm really fucking worried."
My eyes snapped open. Dad only cursed when things were really bad. Like when he found the cigarette butts in my jeans or I got a B- on a test.
"I mean she just turned eighteen so legally, she's an adult, but it just isn't like her to just leave without a word."
Leave? What was he talking about. "D-" I gasped. Why weren't the words coming out? And why could I barely move?
Oh god. Oh no.
I realized that this wasn't a bad dream. I was butt naked and hogtied, my body twisted into some perverted pretzel. Some sort of rope dug into my wrists and feet whenever I moved, sending spasms of pain over my body.
My mouth was covered in duct tape and I could barely move my lips. The room was pitch black but a slow, steady drip told me that I was in a bathroom. I was bound and gagged in a bathtub.
"Well, I'll certainly keep an eye out," my abductor said smoothly.
"Daunh!" I said through the tape, banging my feet. If I made enough noise, maybe he'd hear me. "Heramp!" But he didn't burst into the bathroom to save me. The figure that stood in the shadow was too tall, too burly.
Fear set in my bones as he walked over to the toilet.
He unbuckled his pants.
Oh god, I thought, squeezing my eyes shut. He was going to rape me.
But instead, he unzipped his fly and started peeing in the toilet.
"I have to train you," the man said thickly. "I hate to have you bound, but until you learn your place, it is what it is."
"Heramp!" I repeated, banging my feet against the porcelain tub.
"Suit yourself."
"HERA-" My words caught in my throat as the man turned toward me, blasting my face with his urine. It was warm and stung my eyes as I felt bile rise in my throat.
Words failed me. My whole body was numb and then I felt a building in my groin and a rush of liquid. I was peeing myself. I was eighteen years old and I was wetting myself.
The golden shower was never ending, his spray coating my back, creeping between the cracks of my ass. The smell was sour and repugnant and made my stomach tumble.
When he was done, he jiggled his member for good measure then crouched down and clutched my face. "Are you going to be sick? Most girls are sick the first time."
I swallowed the vomit and shook my head. I didn't want to say or do anything that would draw his ire.
"Good girl," he grinned, standing back to his feet. My body shook as I watched him walk over to the sink and wash his hands. "Once your new station sinks in, you'll get privileges. We’ll train here for a few days, and I may take you home. To a new life.
Once I trust you, I won't have to keep you bound, though eventually, you'll beg me to tie you up. With some girls it takes a few days, others a week or two, but eventually I'll break your will. And when you're completely mine, when you're my bitch, then the fun will really begin."
I gagged. It looked like I had to throw up after all.