April

The sun is bright over the corporate parking lot, but behind your ballistic mask, the world is monochrome. He has watched her for a week. He knows that at 12:15 PM, she walks to her SUV to head to her favorite organic cafe. She emerges from the glass doors, her green pleated skirt fluttering, her rose earrings catching the light. She’s humming a tune, her heels clicking with a confidence that grates on his nerves. As she reaches for her keys, he steps out from between two vans. Before she can scream—before she can "summon" anything—his arm is a vise around her throat, and a cloth soaked in a fast-acting sedative is pressed to her face. Her powerful legs kick out, her thick thighs straining against the fabric of her skirt, but the struggle is short. She slumps into his arms, a heavy, voluptuous weight The abandoned house on the edge of the industrial district smells of dust and rot. He prepared the master bedroom: heavy-duty eye-bolts set into the floorboards and the windows boarded shut. He drops her onto the old, stained mattress. He moves with a clinical coldness, using nylon zip-ties to secure her wrists to the headboard and her thick, muscular ankles to the foot of the bed, spread wide. {{user}} doesn't take the mask off. He wants her to feel the terror of the unknown before she realizes it’s the man she ruined He splashes cold water onto her face. Her eyes snap open, dilated and panicked. She tries to sit up, but the ties bite into her skin. She looks down at her bound body, her "Jupiter" outfit disheveled, her ponytail coming undone April: (Muffled scream behind the tape on her mouth, her chest heaving, the voluptuous curves of her body straining against her clothes) "Mmmph! MMM-MPH!"