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Writing Taxi! [R-VL, and grotesque sexual content]


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[size=2]I?ve never liked taxi cabs. In fact, I?d walk city blocks in the scorching, blistering heat before I?d take a cab. The thought of sitting in that rickety back seat, glancing in the rearview mirror to see that nicotine-ridden face staring back at me, just makes me nerves crawl. Climbing into the back to smell the putrid scent of old, sun-roasted leather, the dirt and grime crusted on the floorboards, and to have nothing to look at but the overall horrible condition of the vehicle, makes me gag and cringe.

I?m not a princess, nor am I a ?Daddy?s girl?. I don?t set standards higher than that can be appreciated. I don?t expect, nor want, a limousine service with the red carpet. But there?s just something, something about taxi cabs. Perhaps it?s the car, you sit and expect it to carry you safely to your destination. Yet, there?s a looming clanking in that old engine, and you can?t help the thought of it breaking down. Or perhaps it?s the driver. You have no idea who the person in front of you is. How can you trust a complete stranger with your life, or the life of your loved ones? Has this person had any criminal acts in their past? What exactly are they thinking when you enter their cab? What happens if they had a bad day, and decide to end their life with you in the cab? Or, they take their fury out on you?

?That will never happen to me.? This is what people say to themselves to seek comfort every time devastation rears its ugly face. I once thought this way; I figured the odds of the population were in my favor. There?s so many people in the city I live--well, lived in. I had it in my head that I, out of something-odd-thousand of people, would never see tragedy with jumping in a foreign vehicle made for public service. However, and most unfortunate for myself, my adamant mindset and attitude got the best of me.

[b]April 16th, 1997, 6:49 PM[/b]

?No, go ahead and start the party without me,? pacing the linoleum floor, Kayla flicked her fingers through the blinds of her kitchen window, ?The Accord is dead.?

?What?s wrong? Didn?t you get a tune-up just last month?? Maggie, Kayla?s life-time friend, blared into the receiver, forcing Kayla to reel the cordless phone back.

?Yes, I did. I think the starter is going out. It won?t even crank over, and I had the battery replaced in the tune-up,? she glared at the turquoise contraption that sat useless in her driveway.

?Do you have money? Get a cab.?

?I will not. You know me,? the blinds snapped closed, shutting the frustrating view.

?I?m paying for it, Kayla. You haven?t seen Tammy in three years, and she was like a mother to us. You know she?s leaving in a few days, and you?re not going to see her because of your fucking taxi cab phobia? That?s pretty fucking pathetic,? Maggie groaned.

They had been through this many times. There were countless memories of their friends piling into a taxi, and Kayla refused to take the ride. Instead, she walked several blocks to the final destination. Interviews, family gatherings, hell, if she didn?t have a date, she?d have taken the taxi to the prom. As time passed, and they grew older, this ?phobia? of Kayla?s only became worse; and it got in the way of quality time.

?You?re right. I?m being a douche. What cab do you suggest?? Kayla, obviously unnerved with the idea, scouted her kitchen counter for something to write with and something to write on.

?Call ?Instacab Taxi?, they?re pretty descent with price and drivers. The number is..? Maggie began.

[I]I can?t believe I?m doing this. And it?s supposed to storm tonight. Mick better be able to give me a ride home..[/I] Kayla jotted down the number. Her hand shook with both anxiety and anger; so hard that the pen pressed deep into the notepad, carving a slight canyon rather than drawing numbers.

She glanced through the blinds again. It had started to drizzle.

[b]7:52 PM[/b]

?Where?re you headin? to, Sweetness?? a robust, grungy man shifted in the driver?s seat.

?1827 Sandser Street. It?s just a block away from Shop-n-Go,? Kayla cautiously slid onto the seat. The crackled leather nipped and caught on her satin slacks.

The man was clearly over weight, but not obese, and had no respect for personal hygiene. His face looked like it had not seen a razorblade in weeks. His hair, disheveled and stringy, framed a darkened face. His stench lingered, blending with the smoke and, surprisingly, the scent of liquor. Kayla furrowed her brow and tried to keep her nose from wrinkling. Her eyes scanned the dashboard. She found that it hadn?t been dusted or cleaned. Outlines of has-been stickers littered the faded blue plastic. Air fresheners, designed to make a comfortable smelling atmosphere, hung by the dozen from the rearview mirror. Sadly, and most expectedly, they gave no fragrance.

?Goin? to a party?? he pulled out of the gravel driveway. The small pebbles moaned as they were forced to grind underneath the weight of the car. Headlights passed, illuminating the man?s stubby face for brief seconds.

?I?m going somewhere,? Kayla vaguely replied. If it?s one thing to ride in a taxi cab, it?s another to make small talk with the stranger. Not that Kayla was much of a talker in the first place, but it was none of his business.

?I was just guessing by your clothes, and the perfume,? he threw an attempt of a smile over his right shoulder.
Kayla cleared her throat and tried to concentrate on the lights of the city. Pinks and greens, blues and yellows, reds and oranges, dotted the black of the night. Horns and passing cars actually began to relax her nerves. That is, until she had the sneaky suspicion that the driver kept staring at her in the mirror. She would glance up on occasion and catch his beady, black eyes wander back to the road.

?The name is Roger,? Roger adjusted the mirror, ?But you can call me ?Rog?. And I?ll be your driver for the evening.?[/size]
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[SIZE=1]I like how this story is going. It seems kind of Stephen Kingish, I mean in the sense that everything seems normal at first and then WHAM! There goes the neighborhood. I can't wait for the next post ^_^[/SIZE]
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[Color=DarkBlue][Size=1]Very nice Annie. Just copy Domon's statement.

I do have a question though.

[Quote]hell, if she didn?t have a date, she?d have taken the taxi to the prom.[/Quote]

I was kinda confused by that statement. I'm guessing you meant she wouldn't have, but I just thought I'd point it out.

Great Job otherwise. I apologize about my pickiness, but if I get confused, I get confused. [/size][/color]
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Intriguing, it is. I believe I know where you're going with this, but I hope for the sake of my sanity that I'm wrong XD But interesting, nevertheless, so post the next part so we may get out imaginations pumping, woman! Geruff!

And why are all taxi drivers called Roger? :^/

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[SIZE=1]Interesting, most interesting.

I'd definitely like to see this progressing Annie, it has an almost Jaws like effect to it, in the beginning everything seems calm but queue the music and suddenly all Hell breaks loose.[/SIZE]
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[color=blue][size=1]Wonderful Annie! I'm glad you're writing again! ^_^

This story is very much, like Gavin said, Jaws-esque. Very calm in the beginning, and, like we all hope, a big surprise somewhere down the line. And I really like the introduction, where the main character gives a brief summary of the story without telling the readers anything that would give it away.

Brilliant! Can't wait for more! *huggles*[/size][/color]
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[b]8:13 PM[/b]

?Excuse me, how much longer do you think it?ll be?? Kayla, frustrated with the duration of time, asked, ?I could have already walked there by now..?

?Oh, not much longer, Babe. I have to take a lil? detour. The street?s being re-paved,? Roger, or Rog as he preferred, waved his hand over the steering column. It was as if he were trying to draw a map on his windshield for her.

Kayla sighed and sat back. The window next to her face began to streak with rain. The drizzle had become heavier, perhaps adding to the delay of the drive. Being a Friday night, traffic would be a little crazy. Lanes of vehicles performing a daredevil of ballet mesmerized the young woman. How she wish she could weave in and out of traffic with such grace. Alas, she was incapable of such control. It seems that ?road rage? is something that would hold her back.

?How old are you? You don?t look a day over seventeen,? Rog was able to lay down a smooth, yet discomforting sleazy, compliment.

?Would you mind just paying attention to the road? The rain is starting to come down hard,? Kayla folded her arms over her well-covered chest. She was wearing nothing to attract too much attention to herself. Just a pink sweater , white button-up blouse underneath, and black, satin slacks. Her make-up was conservative; pink eyeshadow and light blush, to match her sweater.

?Actually, Miss, do you mind if I make a pit stop at this gas station? My stomach really doesn?t want to agree with me tonight. You see, I--? began Roger.

?Whatever, just--hurry up,? Kayla rubbed a hand over her mouth before breathing out, ?fuck.?

?Thank you, Darlin?,? Roger, clearly unaware of Kayla?s crude remark, smiled gratefully and slowed the cab to make his left turn.

?I?m just goin? to be a minute,? the repulsive driver grunted uncomfortably as he climbed from his seat. The steering wheel groaned and cracked when he pulled the lever to release it; forcing the column to lift upwards, and giving Roger the room he needed to maneuver his body out of the car. He gave Kayla a wink and trotted into the convenience store of the gas station.

This was the first time Kayla had been able to make out the details of Roger?s characteristics. He was a tall man, probably about a good seven inches above her. He was heavy set, as mentioned before. But once he stood his towering height, the weight seemed to settle around his hips; which to Kayla?s disgust, jiggled as he trotted. If that wasn?t enough to repel her, Roger?s pants were worn and grungy-looking. They were also too short for his long legs. He wore greenish brown T-shirt that was so tight, the bottom edged its way up Roger?s lower abdomen.

?Maggie, I?m going to rip you a new asshole,? Kayla lay her head back against the seat and rest her face against the cool window. The engine made random ticking sounds, indicating it was probably over-run and heated. She looked at her watch, hoping that time was actually passing slowly. The party had been going on for at least forty-five minutes already, and it was getting late.

[b]8:29 PM[/b]

?Sorry ?bout that, Miss,? Roger?s voice broke her thoughts, ?Say, why don?t you come ?n sit up here with me; keep me company.?

Roger rest one hand on top of the cab, the other hung loosely at his side. His body tilted on his right, revealing a hair-covered gut to hang over a large buckle. Kayla reached for her door and shook her head.

?Aw, I won?t bite you,? Roger chuckled and started to walk around the back of the car. His laughter echoed dully and gradually grew louder as he approached Kayla?s side. Impulsively, she slid to her left. Roger scratched at his groin before reaching for the door handle and pulling it open just barely.

?I don?t want to sit in front. I?m perfectly fine with where I?m at, thank you,? she bit her tongue to keep from stammering.

?Okay then, suit yourself,? Roger opened the door to slam it shut. His body language indicated that he was obviously upset with Kayla?s reaction.

The driver spent the next two to three minutes adjusting the steering wheel and himself before starting the tired car. One attempt and it failed to turn over. He chuckled nervously and promised Kayla it was just over-heated and needed to cool down. He waited one minute more, and turned the key; the car fired to life. Taking a breath of some relief, Kayla sat as close as she could to her door. For comfort, she clutched the handle; just in case.

?I?m sorry if I scared you by asking you to join me in the front,? he began, not even looking in the rear view mirror, ?It?s just that--it?s just that I?ve been lonely without my wife.?

?Excuse me?? Kayla snapped her head around, and once again covered her chest.
?No, no,? Roger?s belch-like laugh broke through his throat, ?Not anything like that. I mean, my wife, she used to ride with me from time to time. Mostly at night, so I would stay awake. Didn?t have kids, so I really wanted her to be with me at night. Never know what can happen. Especially in this city, right??

?Yeah,? Kayla relaxed again, but didn?t let her guard up.

?Bet you?re wondering what happened to her??

?It?s none of my business,? Kayla tried to reply kindly.

?Oh, pish posh,? Roger grew quiet for a few moments, ?Today was the anniversary.?

?Congratulations. How long have you two been together?? Kayla decided to lighten up for a little while. What harm would it do to get him on the topic of someone other than herself?

?We were together for a few years. But she left me two years ago. God rest her soul,? Roger fell silent again.

Kayla shifted, a bit ashamed of her gratitude. She opened her mouth to apologize when Roger made a sudden right turn; throwing Kayla into the door. The force of the abrupt turn and the impact of her body flung against the glass resulted in a trickle of blood on Kayla?s chin.

?I?m so sorry! Are you okay?? Roger threw one arm over the front seat to grab the girl by the arm, ?Oh my God, I?m so sorry. Let me pull over and take a look at that.?

The car slowed to a soft halt. Kayla, a little dizzy from the commotion, blinked and looked outside. She squinted through the blood smear on the glass and examined the surroundings. It was dark and crowded. Silhouettes of buildings was all Kayla could see. It looked to be an alleyway, or a really quiet part of town. A part that she was not familiar with, so it was hard for her to figure out where she might be.

Roger?s voice, shaken not stirred, pierced through the darkness like a knife. The area was so quiet, it was deafening. And the ringing in her ears only muffled whatever noise there happened to be. Kayla was unable to hear her door open, and she tumbled onto the puddle-littered ground. Her strawberry hair soaked up the muddy water she landed in. Rain drops danced on her eyelids, causing her vision to blur. She looked up, shielding the rain with one hand, to see Roger standing above her. He knelt down to stroke her face with the back of his dirty hand.

?You?re so beautiful. Just like her.?

The time is now 8:38 PM.
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[COLOR=Blue][SIZE=1]Very nice addition to the story, Annie. [i]Very[/i] nice. ^_^ *applaudes*

We get a deeper look into Roger's character, and a better idea of what he actually looks like. The descriptive writing is a joy to read. Your writing style keeps developing (for the better). Keep it up!

What's this? A cliffhanger! Damn you, suspenseful story telling.. Damn you. :rolleyes: :p[/SIZE][/COLOR]
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Why can't Roger be good? >:^O

This is getting creepy. It's even more disturbing than Wickersleeves (which was actually meant to be demented...). Nevertheless, I like it. I was intrigued to know more and this Roger fellow shall sure bring in the bizarre stereotype of a fat, lonely taxi driver in the late night city.

Keep at it, fool >:^O

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[SIZE=1]Oh it's getting interesting, more of Roger's mannerisms are being exposed and it's rather chilling. I have to admit that reading this would probably make certain people question getting a cab on a late night, especially if the driver's name was Roger. Hopefully you won't leave us dangling for much longer, I'd like to see what kind of mentality drives the driver.[/SIZE]
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[i]Where am I? What the hell happened? I didn't hit my head that hard, or did I? I'm laying in a puddle, that's all I know. And that man, disgusting Roger. What was he thinking driving like that?![/i]

"Who the hell do you think you are?! Don't touch me!" Kayla scampered away from his hand. She stumbled to stand up straight, leaning on the trunk of the taxi cab for support.

"Easy, Miss. You were knocked-out for a minute," Roger stood and threw up his hands in defense.

"That doesn't give you the right to touch me!" Kayla wiped her lip. The red stain spread into a large circle. The rain came down heavier now, soaking Kayla to the bone.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Roger approached, too quick for Kayla to react. His bulging gut pressed against her body, pinning her to the back of the car.

Kayla, taken back, slapped at the taxi driver in hopes to surprise him enough to move. Unfortunately, her attack only angered the driver. His hands grasped her wrists tightly, causing Kayla to yelp and slump over.

"Now, I'm going to ask you nicely. If you cooperate, I'll be easy with you," Roger's rancid breath, strong of cigarettes and liquor, floated under Kayla's nose.

"W-what happens if I don't like what you're going to ask me," she coughed and gagged.

Roger paused, looking from his left around to his right. His black eyes glazed over, sending out a bone-chilling vibe. He leaned over to whisper in Kayla's ear.

"If you don't cooperate, you'll be greeting my wife," he growled and bit at her ear.

Kayla grunted and tried to pull away, but Roger's strength overpowered hers. His teeth clamped harder on her soft ear and his hand started to make its way underneath Kayla's sweater. The wet material proved to be a slight struggle for him. Kayla closed her eyes as tight as hard as she could force them. Steaming tears of fear and anger squeezed out and ran down her cold face. She couldn't help herself; Roger was too strong for her.

"Your skin is so soft. Tell me your name," Roger tried to coo, his unshaven face scratched against Kayla's neck.

"N-no!" she choked down a heavy sob and sent a knee into Roger's groin.

He leant over her, struggling to regain his composure. Her body began to shake uncontrollably. Roger slowly straightened up, glaring fiercely at her.

"Tell me, bitch!" he roared, reeling a heavy hand into Kayla's cheek.

The force of his slap sent Kayla to the ground. There she coughed and tried to crawl away. Her attempt failed as Roger bent down to pick her up around the waist.

"I told you to cooperate with me, Sugar," estranged and pleased with Kayla's struggling, Roger lifted her over his shoulder and opened the trunk.

Kayla groaned, her breathing restricted from Roger's shoulder digging into her diaphragm. With one swift movement, Roger hefted Kayla into the empty trunk.

"You're goin' to pay for that," he pointed down at the trembling body.

And with a mischievious laugh, Roger slammed the trunk shut; leaving Kayla locked inside and in the dark. All was silent for a couple of minutes, all except for Kayla's staggering breath. The trunk reaked of gasoline and oil. There was no carpeting, only a large piece of fitted plywood. Kayla fanned her hands around, hoping to find something to use as a weapon, or as an aid in escape. There was nothing. Not one tool, bottle, or even a sheet of paper. Kayla was alone inside that trunk.

[b]8:50 PM[/b]

The car still hadn't started. Kayla gave up on looking for [i]anything[/i]. Instead, she lay in the fetal position and sobbed for a good part of the ten minutes she had been in the trunk. Her throat dried up, ceasing her sobbing short. Had Roger left her there? She didn't hear any footsteps or rustling around in the car. In fact, she didn't even hear a door open. That may be because she was too caught up in her racing thoughts.

[i]My cell phone! I can call help![/i] Kayla reached for her hip pocket, only to remember that she didn't pay the bill last month and Sprint had shut it off. Dismal and helpless, Kayla punched the plywood. She wanted to cry. She wanted to just lay there and cry. That's what she wanted; but she knew she couldn't do that. She had to calm down and pay attention to every little noise around her.

[i]Okay, take a deep breath, Kayla[/i] she chanted to herself. She went over details in her head. Where she could possibly be, what time it was, if Maggie had attempted to contact her, and if she'd ever see her best friend again. Branching from these thoughts, the usual happens; regretting things that had been done, thinking of how things could have/should have been, and praying to God for help. Praying for Him to forgive her for all that she had done wrong, praying that if she weren't to make it out alive, to protect her family and friends; if she were to make it out alive, to help her on the path of a better outlook on life.

If she were to make it through this situation with her life, she vowed to God that she would straighten her life out. She would call her family and settle disputes. She would apologize to Tammy and tell her how much she appreciated her for being there all of those years. She would take Maggie out to dinner and ask for her forgiveness. In the past year and a half, Maggie and Kayla had been fighting; and it was all Kayla's fault. It was Kayla that chased away Maggie's only love. Jealousy? A little, yes. It was mainly out of fear. Maggie was Kayla's world; the two were inseperable. They had planned on moving out of the City and getting a house together. They had many plans, and Kayla wouldn't have anyone ruin them. It's more out of selfishness that Kayla sent Maggie's boyfriend packing.

Kayla was a rotten person for the things she had done in her past. Thinking of her past made her angry. She turned the tables and blamed everyone for her past. She cursed God for putting her in this position. He was punishing her, and she just knew it. She started to cry again. Kayla knew the truth; God wasn't punishing her, it was no one's fault. But her anger kept her from believing the truth.

Just as she was starting to doze off from exhaustion, the creak of a door piqued her attention. The car bounced softly, suggesting Roger was climbing into the driver's seat. Kayla froze as the engine cranked over and roared. Without warning, the car jerked forward and took a sharp right turn. Kayla's body slid to the left side of the trunk, smashing her head against the frame, and filling her back and forearms with splinters. She tried to brace herself with her hands and feet, but Roger's deliberate, reckless driving tossed her around like a rag doll.

The tires screeched and squealed over the slick street. Her body slowly slid to the end of the trunk. This told her that the speed of the car was picking up. She heard horns blaring and other vehicle's tires squealing. Yet, the sound of sirens weren't there to relieve her. And speed bumps; what speed bumps? Roger flew over any obstacle in the road. The car swayed and road the bumps and potholes of the street, bouncing Kayla up and down harshly.
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[COLOR=Blue][SIZE=1]Oooh.. Bad.. Go Kayla! Fight the prick off! xD She may not have done a good job, but at least she tried. ^_~ Traveling in a trunk must suck. Especially when a possible rapist is driving the car. My.. what a gruesome tale.

.. More please! ^_^[/SIZE][/COLOR]
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[b]9:05 PM[/b]

Sweat beaded and rolled down the side of her neck. The trickle of cold liquid sent goosebumps up her spine, and reminded her that she was not having a nightmare. Unfortunately, she was living her nightmare. Unlike the teenagers in ?Nightmare on Elm Street?, Kayla?s living horror wouldn?t simply go away with the phrase: ?I don?t believe in you.? or ?I?m not afraid of you.? No, this was no movie. The people are real. And she was afraid of Roger.

The fumes of gasoline and exhaust plagued Kayla?s nostrils. Her thoughts drifted as a headache, obviously due to the unhealthy amount of carbon dioxide, pounded at her temples. It began as a dull beat, much like the soft beat of a bass drum. Then, the pounding gradually peaked to the pitch of a snare. Roger?s lead foot, and crazed driving, was relentless. Sending Kayla?s throbbing head into a spiral of pain.

But just as fast as Roger had taken off, he swerved the cab to the left and slammed the breaks. Kayla, along with her headache, tumbled into the backside of the rear passenger seat. The car bounced and rocked violently; significance of the taxi driver?s growing anger. Kayla expected the worst, and solemnly began to accept that. She prepared herself with thoughts of what horrible things would be coming to her in a matter of minutes.

A dull Swiss Army knife jabbing and digging into her abdomen; grinding and twirling her internal organs? A rusty razor carving into her pretty face? Or, perhaps an aluminum baseball bat to every bone in her body. It would be a slow, and very painful process; especially when you reach the shoulder blade. It?s the strongest bone in the body, and very hard to break. Kayla winced at these, and many other petrifying, thoughts while she waited for her dim fate. She expected the trunk to fling open at any second. She expected Roger?s brick of a hand to reach in and slug her in the nose. She expected, but nothing came.

[b]9:12 PM[/b]

Impatience began to sink in, even though it had only been a few minutes. Kayla, knowing she will be injured, if not killed, grew tired of waiting. If Roger was going to do anything to her, then what was he waiting for? He?s not in the car, there was no dull shuffling sounds; what was he waiting for?

?Roger, you sick fuck! What are you doing?! What are you waiting for?!? Kayla belted at the top of her lungs. She settled down when her headache shook with every syllable.

There was no answer, nor a sound of movement. Furious at her assailant, the red-head started to kick at the top of the trunk. However, she quickly became exhausted and dizzy from the lack of sufficient oxygen. A wave of nausea swept over her moistened body. Her sweat seeped into whatever dry bits of clothing she had left. After gaining a minute rest, Kayla prepared to call out again. But the sound of voices filtered into the trunk.

She couldn?t be too sure, but she thought she heard another person. Male or female, Kayla?s conscious clouded and fuzzed, adjusting to the flow of adrenaline and gradual oxygen intake. The voices slowly became louder, and seemingly closing in on the cab. There was in fact another voice, and it was definitely female. The female?s voice was strong and robust, but not manly. There was a sort of accent, a twang. Kayla thought it may be Southern. Roger?s mumbling became clear and crisp. The back of the car dipped and did not bounce up; Roger was sitting on the trunk.

?Do you know if he?s still around these parts?? Roger asked the second party.

?I?d imagine so. I don?t see no reason why he wouldn? be,? the woman replied unsure, ?Why?s you wanta know??

?I just got a special delivery for ?im, is all. I was supposed to drop it off a while back, but I got caught up in court,? a repulsive grunt and snort was painfully audible.

?What?d ya do this time, Rog? An? didn?t I tell ya?s once before to stop doin? that shit in fronta me? I hate that fuckin? snot snortin?!? the woman sounded just as disgusted as Kayla was.

?Sorry, Momma,? Roger mumbled, ?Anyways, I just had a speeding ticket. I promise, Momma!?

?Mhm,? his mother sighed, unconvinced of her son?s story. Although, Kayla wouldn?t doubt that he had ever received one.

?Anyhow, I?d best be off to deliver this package to Mark,? the car bounced back into its original position, ?Thanks for letting me have the scissors. I?ll buy you a new pair next payday.?

[I]Scissors? What the hell does he need scissors for?[/I] Kayla asked herself. But the confusion dissipated quickly into fear.

[I]He?s going to use them to cut my skin into pieces and use them as a new skin! I knew I should have never watched that movie..[/I] Kayla grumbled. She promised herself, if she got out alive, no more cannibalistic/horror movies ever again.

The car started once more, this time, no take off start. Instead, it was a smooth, long ride to wherever ?Mark? was.
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[color=blue][size=1]Ooh! Plot development! More characters! The story grows more interesting every chapter-ness, Annie. I love your style.

Kayla's gruesome imagination is all the more funny (for me, anyway.. >>;; ). New chapters, pwease! =D[/size][/color]
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[COLOR=Blue][SIZE=1]Only a few books/stories in all existence have intrigued me and put me at the edge my seat, and your story has accomplished this feat, the other was Star Wars Republic Commando: Hard Contact, and it did so because it was in fact, Star Wars!
Nevertheless, keep up the good work and I can't wait to see more!

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  • 3 weeks later...
[size=1]Sorry for the long wait, work has been hectic.[/size]

[b]9:43 PM[/b]

The minutes passed like hours. Kayla?s eyes remained closed through the trip; there was nothing to look at, and the fumes began to burn. She assumed Roger had been driving through a suburb due to the fact that the turns and straight-ways were smooth and short-lived. Quick stops at a four-way intersection gave no noise. All was quiet. No horns, no screeching tires, no speed bumps; thank God.

The car came to a slow stop, and sat there for a moment or two before the vehicle bounced. Kayla heard the driver?s door open and close lightly; as if Roger didn?t want to disturb the peaceful environment. Kayla?s thoughts raced to find a way into the back seat of the car; Roger had left the cab at an idle. If there was a way to get through the back of the seat, Kayla had a chance to steal the car.

Cramped up and sweaty, Kayla painstakingly shifted and turned to press her feet flat against the back seat. With a deep breath and a brace against the roof of the trunk, Kayla brought one leg up as far as she could and delivered a kick to the back of the seat. It barely budged and a crackling sound gave her hope that she had broken something loose. She pulled her leg back again and slammed her foot harder against the old plywood. It cracked again and gave way about an inch beneath her foot.

[I]Yes, just a few more..[/I] Kayla thought excitedly as she drew back both legs. But her joy was shattered by the sound of Roger?s voice. She paused to listen for an estimated distance. He sounded faint, but that could also be that he was keeping his tone down to let neighboring people sleep. She decided to just push on the seat with all her might, hoping not to attract attention. She pressed her hands on the roof and began to push the back of the seat. All of her muscles ached from being confined and stretched with the abrupt force.

Her veins pulsed with strain, her thigh muscles began to spasm, but she was not about to give up. No, not when the seat finally gave way and her feet fell through. She lay still for a minute to listen for Roger. No movement or sound encouraged Kayla to slowly scoot herself through the small space. Luckily for her, she was just small enough to barely fit.

[I]Man, all of those trips to the gym actually work..[/I] Kayla giggled to herself as she slid to the floor of the backseat. She carefully peeked her head to glance out of the window; Roger was standing in front of the house?s front door. He was knelt down, talking lightly into the mail slot. His tight jeans squeezed his body, the raggedy belt he wore stretched disdainfully causing his fat to bulge over. Roger had no care for his lack of underwear, the small of his back showed more than what Kayla had ever asked to see.

Disgusted and flowing with anxiety and fear, Kayla fumbled to climb into the front seat of the car. To her dismay, Roger had stood up and pointed at the car. Maybe she hadn?t been seen. Maybe Roger wasn?t paying enough attention. Maybe she was ducked down far enough. No. Kayla?s frantic hopes had been crushed as Roger bolted from the small, concrete porch and sprinted for the cab. Trying hard not to scream, Kayla shifted the cab into drive and slammed on the gas pedal. The car skidded and took off, leaving Roger just feet behind. Excited and somewhat relieved, Kayla sped through a four-way intersection; she was heading straight for the nearest police station. She glanced up in the rear view mirror to see a small speck under a far off street light. A small chuckle erupted in her throat and she brought her attention to the road in front of her to see a stray dog in her headlights.


With a quick jerk of the steering wheel, Kayla veered to the left of the dog. She spared its life, but only added more chaos to hers. The wheel wretched free from her grip and spun the car into a parked sports utility vehicle. Fortunately, Kayla?s momentum deployed the tired airbag. The car?s radiator hissed and the sweet smell of antifreeze drifted into the cab. Kayla?s vision blurred and swirled. She cursed herself for being so stupid.

She attempted to move her legs, but the impact pinned the steering wheel just above her kneecaps. The radio Roger used to communicate to central dispatch fuzzed and an exhausted voice mumbled the identification number of the now dismantled car. Kayla tried to call out for help, but realized that she had to first grab the mic. Her bloody hand trembled forward; her fingers barely able to touch the old communications device. Her strength proved worthless against a small button that required no major movement. But her body hurt all over from the accident, even a simple push of a button was agony. She finally mustered enough to press the button; now the hard part, to talk.

[b]?H-help..some-some body help..?

?Who is this? What?s your number??

?H-elp..ple-please..?[/b] Kayla?s voice cracked. Her eyes stung with tears and blood that had seeped from a wound to the forehead.

[b]?What?s your location??

?I..I don?t know?I was..in a c-car accident..?

?Sweety, you?ll have to give me a landmark or street name,?[/b] the once annoyed voice became a bit more concerned.

Kayla muttered the street and cross-street and tried to control her breathing. The cab dispatch instructed her to stay calm and remain still. They promised help was on the way. They coached her into keeping brief contact. But nothing could comfort her; paranoia set in. Where was Roger? Did he see the accident? Did he hear it? Would he come for her? How far had she really driven?

[b]10:24 PM[/b]

Kayla?s consciousness faded, and she pinched herself to keep from going to sleep. Impatient, scared, and paranoid, she tried to wriggle the steering wheel up enough for her to slide out of the driver?s seat. However, she was too weak. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Hopelessness crept up on her like a hungry panther. She was alone in the pain, the dark, and the silence. But not for too long, the distant sound of sirens grew louder and louder. Soon, Kayla was able to see the strobes of blues and reds. She couldn?t move to see, but she assumed it was a police officer. One door was heard and one stream of a flashlight was seen darting back and forth; bouncing with the step of the approaching officer.

Help had come.
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[Font=Garamond] [Color=Red] Interesting, so far. My only problem[s] is the inclusion of such offhand remarks such as, "Man, all of those trips to the gym actually work.." Frankly, I feel like it breaks the mood into something far less serious - More of a parody in and of itself. I also felt that while the beginning sequence was good, you hinted far too much of what was going to happen. Instead of me being in a state of suspense, I was waiting 'till the guy pulled off something weird. Whether or not this was meant to be done is a mystery to me.

Otherwise, I enjoyed it, for the most part. I do have a few things that puzzled me, tho. Here they are:

[Spoiler] 1) Where in the world was Kayla when she got in the car accident? Normally, people would be around to witness & help. Was she like, say, in a deserted place, or something of the sort? The like doesn't make much sense due to the, 'She was heading toward the nearest police station'.
2) Heading toward the nearest Police Station.. Whether or not she knows where shes going, I find it a little odd that coincidentally she's heading towards the nearest means of help. Unless she knows her way around, or something of the sort.[/Spoiler]

Anyway, in spite of my questions, it was still a good read. [/Color] [/Font]
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[color=blue][size=1]Yay! I've been waiting for an update, Annie. Glad to see you're still writing. ^_^

Very nice installment. It leaves me wondering what happens to Roger? Has he seen everything? Will he follow her? All that wonderful cliff-hanger jazz. ^_~

Can't wait for more! x3[/size][/color]
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