Alone

The road stretched on for miles. An endless rope of white lines on pavement glimmering through the dark. And the dark so thick and silent, like being under water. Trees hug either side of the road tightly, providing enough cover to hide the girl in white. A thin cotton shift strains over her pregnant belly and full breasts, her tangled hair laying in thick, golden-brown ropes to her waist. He'd find her. She had no doubt in her mind of that. He'd find her and hurt her again. More scars to mar otherwise flawless skin.

The low, haunting call of an owl echoed through the shadows, a faint breeze rustled leaves. The creeping sensation of watching eyes struck across the back of her neck like an axe. Goosebumps followed a shiver tripping down her spine.

I'm scaring myself; seeing murderers and monsters in dark gaps between the trees, wavering shadows. There's nothing out there.

Her slippered feet were covered in mud and grass; broad streaks of the stuff going all the way up to her thighs. And the soft pink of her beloved slippers so caked in the muck that the color was indistinguishable. Even though the night was so dark, she could still see the numerous gashes marring her arms and legs, the blood glistened black in the shifting moonlight and snaked down her limbs like clinging vines. Clouds parted from moon and light vaulted down around her. Tense fear nearly choked the air from her lungs as the snarling bark of a dog rang out, loud and fierce. Heart on overdrive, breaths rapid and almost painful to take, she stumbled and nearly screamed as her dress caught on a prickly bush and shredded the fine linen at the hem. As she struggled to free herself, sharp needle pricks penetrated the soft flesh of her fingertips and left dark smears of blood on the skirt. Panic reached new heights when she saw bright headlights cresting the hill behind her. The roar of an engine had her tearing away from the bush, the skirt ripping to her waist as she plunged headlong into the thick trees.

The man punched the gas pedal to the the floor and swore. " Stupid goddamned whore." His voice was deep and had a raspy quality to it, as if worn out from screaming. He fumbled for the pack of marlboros on the dashboard, stuck one in his mouth and lit it with trembling fingers. Shit. He wasn't shaking like a sissy cuz he was scared. He was so damn mad he saw red. As he inhaled and watched the tip turn cherry red, he flipped the brights on and scanned the road ahead through narrowed eyes. If looks could kill, she'd have been dead. The interior light was dim, casting his face into shadow. Skin unshaven and leathery from working in the sun for long hours, mouth twisted cruelly to one side, eyes as black as coal glittering in the faint light. He was a big man, 6 foot 3 inches with a bounty of muscle to match his impressive height. He'd imtimidate just about anyone, if not by his size, then his malicious demeanor.

A flicker of white glinted at the shadowy roadside up ahead, but it disappeared as soon as he focused on it. The ghost-like quality to that fluttery white substance wasn't something you'd see out here in this rugged country; full of deep forests and rambling mountains. It looked like cloth. Clothing. She was wearing white. He swore again as he turned off the headlights and eased to the shoulder. She was out there, hiding, terrified of him. She'd be a lot more afraid once he found her. He eased the car door open, taking care to muffle the sound as he closed it. This'll be fun, he thought, as he melted into the trees and disappeared.

Her heart was about to pound out of her chest. She was sure of it. That was his car. She knew the sound of it like she knew her own voice. She melted into the shadows, listening hard for footsteps.

He grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth as she screamed. She kicked and punched as he dragged her to the ground beneath him, pushed his body between her legs, and wrapped his hand around her throat. " You'll never be free of me, you bitch." Breathing hard from the struggle and his own excitement, he leaned down and whispered into her ear, " You'll never get away." He felt her tremble and stared at her as he unzipped his jeans and let his aching cock spring free, her eyes were over flowing with tears, her hair tangled around her head. She belonged to him. He never let her wear panties, so no barrier kept her from him. The hand squeezing her throat tightened as he ran his hand up her bare thigh and stroked the warm, wet pace between. She knew if she fought him he'd kill her. Her child would be the one to suffer for it. She inhaled slowly and forced her muscles to relax. She parted her legs more so he could have reign over her body. For a brief moment she could've swore she saw a glimmer of something in his eyes, something other than the hate and lust that habitually shown there. Something softer. It disappeared as if it had never been when he jerked her up by the neck. " Are you gonna be a good girl? " She nodded with a quick jerk of her head and he leaned her back slowly to the ground. " Don't worry Hermione, it won't hurt the kid." The grin that twisted his face was evil. She held back a sob as he rubbed his throbbing erection against her, slipping back and forth until she was wet. She couldn't help the tremors in her lower belly, or the ghost of an orgasm that built as he pushed deep, up to the hilt in her, swiveling his hips to massage her insides. In deep, out, in , out...On and on until his breath was exploding out of his mouth, his thick muscles quivering with the need to come. The slap of skin on skin was harsh in her ears, the bruising strength of his hands on her hips. He entered so hard it bordered on pain, but even to her it felt good. His dark face was tight, eyes glittering as he watched her. The orgasm burst through him so hard he saw stars, she was so wet and hot he couldn't have stopped himself from jerking his hips into her even if there was a gun to his head. She came as he did, hard and drawn out, as they rose and fell together. The time was perfect for her escape. Her hand, damp from squeezing the moist dirt, unclenched and slid down his back and fell to the ground as his insistent fucking intensified. She worked the hidden kitchen knife free from under the leaves and twigs beside her; She'd thrown it to the ground when he'd grabbed her, and covered it as he made his power play before taking her. Just as he came to the end of his release, she plunged the knife into his temple all the way up to up to the handle.

The sickening crunch of bone and the wet slip of blood on her hands made the insistent throbbing of her clitoris fade rapidly to the backgound of her conscienceness, even as his body shuddered against hers, dying slowly while still inside her. One gurgling gasp of breath escaped his mouth and he pushed away from her. She let go of the knife as his still hard cock slipped out and he fell on his back. She lay there for what seemed like hours, listening to his desperate attempts to crawl away, to him collapsing in the soft earth a few feet from her, the labored breathing echoing through the thick night like a scream, the moans that escaped as death snatched him from the furious pain of the blade, it all fading so softly into the background. She zoned-out for hours, staring through the trees at the stars and brilliantly white moon as it arched across the black sky and disappeared from sight. Finally, she snapped out of the trance when the baby kicked her ribs. It was getting closer to dawn and she hadn't eaten for hours. Time to leave. Charlotte struggled to her feet and forced herself to look at what she'd done. He lay on his side, one brawny arm extended, as if reaching for a savior. Blood streaked down his face. The knife was still imbeded in his skull. How the hell was she going to hide him? The man was huge. She was barely 5'2 and extremley pregnant! He probably has a shovel in his trunk. She dug the keys from his pocket and followed his tracks back to the road and his car. There was plenty of stuff to help her hide him. A shovel, rope, a big blue tarp. He probably was planning to kill me after he fucked me. That prick. To kill me and his baby. Asshole. She hefted the heavy shovel out and wrapped it in the tarp and rope. She'd be rid of him for good. She shut the trunk quietly and put the keys in her pocket, struggling to keep everything away from her belly as she headed back to him.

It took forever to dig a hole big enough to fit the jerk, then to roll him up in the tarp and tie it with the rope. He was heavy. She couldn't help a satisfied smirk as he hit the bottom of the hole with a loud thump! Although she had to admit, they had had good sex when he wasn't trying to kill her. Even when he raped her in weird ways that hurt. From behind, her on top of him, against that spiked wall in the basement. She had scars all over her back from that one. He'd loved to inflict pain while fucking her till she couldn't walk. She could maybe go back to her family now. He'd had her for so long, she wasn't sure if they'd even be in the same house. What about Harry and Ron? Would they even care?

She was streaming with sweat by the time the hole was totally filled, and the sky was starting to lighten. She evened out the dirt and covered it with leaves and sticks so it looked normal, then picked up the shovel and walked away without a backward glance.