The Calling. Kim O'Neill

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СКАЧАТЬ clung together, holding hands to bolster their courage. As if he was in no hurry to be on his way, the man sat on the floor across from them and comfortably extended his long legs.

      “I’m goin’ to New Orleans,” he explained casually. “Where d’ya’ll keep your money?”

      The girls stared back at him.

      “I promise I won’t hurt nobody.”

      In rapid succession, each of the girls told him where he could find their purses. He got to his feet, slowly stretched, and left the room.

       Get up! Don’t just sit there! Run . . . while he’s gone! Hurry!

      Instead of attempting to escape, the girls remained rooted where they sat. Frightened glances passed between them. One of the girls looked furtively at the windows that lined the wall behind them.

       Can’t you hear me? Run! Now!

      The man returned holding what appeared to be a meager amount of cash. He was clearly disappointed. “This all?” he asked, his brow furrowed. The girls bobbed their heads. The outside door of the apartment opened and closed. Soft footfalls approached.

      Another girl sauntered into the bedroom. “I’m home from my date!” she announced, her voice giddy as if she had been drinking. When she found five of her roommates huddled together on the floor, she frowned in bewilderment.

      “Hello,” said the intruder. Startled, the girl whirled, saw him, and yelped. The man gestured for her to join the others by waving his gun in their direction. She hastily complied.

      Without speaking another word, he pulled a sheet off one of the beds, removed a large knife from his pocket and industriously began to cut it into a number of long strips. The girls huddled close to one another, their fear mounting as they watched him with wide-eyed confusion. When he had finished, he picked up two of the strips and approached the girl closest to him.

      “Put your hands behind your back,” he ordered quietly.

      “But you’ve already got our money,” argued another girl in a quivering voice. “You said you’d leave.”

      “And I will,” he answered. “I’m tyin’ you up so I have more time to get away. I promise I won’t hurt you. The faster ya’ll do as I say, the quicker I’ll be in New Orleans.”

      Clearly apprehensive, the shaking girl turned her back to him. The man proceeded to wind the strips of fabric around her small wrists in a special kind of knot.

      “Now . . . I’m gonna tie your feet.”

       No! Listen to me! Don’t believe him! He’s lying! You’ll be completely helpless!

      Although her dark eyes were filled with distrust, she surrendered her outstretched legs, tightly clenched together.

      He bound the girl’s ankles with the same intricate knot. When he finished, he began to caress her inner thigh. Whimpering, she protectively drew her knees close to her body.

      The man shrugged, and turned to the next girl. Crying, she shook her head, as if trying to rouse herself from a bad dream.

      “C’mon, c’mon,” he gestured impatiently.

       Don’t trust him! Run away! Why can’t anyone hear me?

      One by one, each of the six roommates reluctantly submitted, allowing him to bind their wrists and then their ankles. After they were all subdued, he stood and surveyed his captive prey. Unnerved and completely helpless, they anxiously stared up at him. The man smiled, clearly enjoying his position of power. Swiftly—without warning—the intruder reached for one of the terrified girls, lifted her into his arms, and carried her out of the room. Her shrieks echoed down the hallway.

      All of the other girls gasped and looked at one another in alarm.

      “Where is he taking Pamela?”

      “He said he wouldn’t hurt us!” cried another in a frantic whisper.

      “God is watching,” said the petite, dark haired girl who unknowingly admitted the intruder. She had an unusual accent. “Have faith.”

      The front door to the apartment suddenly opened again, and two more female voices could be heard chatting quietly as they made their way down the small hallway. The captive girls tried to call out and warn their friends, but it was too late—they had already stumbled upon the intruder. Two sets of footfalls flew down the hallway. The terrified girls escaped into the back bedroom but stopped in their tracks when they saw four of their roommates bound and held captive. The man was right behind them. He looked frenzied, eyes wild. He lurched at them, and they vigorously fought back. As they struck at him, he was able to grab a flailing arm of each girl in a vise-like grip. In desperation, they kicked, cried out, and fiercely resisted as he dragged them from the room. For the next few minutes, there was the sound of a tremendous struggle coming from an adjacent room. Suddenly, it became eerily silent. Then there was the sound of water running in the bathroom sink.

      The girls in the back bedroom became panic stricken. They tugged against their restraints, and several tried to squeeze under the small bunk beds that lined the room. They couldn’t fit.

       Open the window and shout for help! No! He’s coming! Look out!

      The man strode back into the room. He eagerly reached for another girl. She was too frozen with fear to struggle. He untied her feet and marched her out of the room as she pleaded for him to release her. In a few moments, we could hear her loudly moan. This was followed by an ominous, palpable hush. Then . . . the sound of running water.

       What is the man doing to the girls? He’s hurting them! He broke his promise! And what is he washing?

      Heavy footfalls strode down the hallway.

       He’s coming again!

      The intruder returned, now covered in sweat, face flushed. Four petrified girls stared up at him with wide-eyed dread. “You’re next,” he informed the smallest girl, who had dark hair and eyes. She wasn’t much bigger than I. With some kind of accent, she shrieked, “No! Please!” Like a ferocious, rabid animal, he snarled, barring yellow, uneven teeth. His helpless captives recoiled in alarm. He reached down, effortlessly picked up the tiny girl—who was still bound—and swept her out of the room. Endless moments passed.

      The girl’s voice echoed throughout the apartment.

      “What did she say?” asked one of the girls.

      “It ‘hurts,’ in our language. Filipino,” whispered the other slight, dark-haired girl. Her small body quivered as she began to sob. More time passed in silence. Water ran again. The heavy footfalls approached.

       Oh, no! When will he finally go away? Why is he doing this?

      The man reappeared, this time seeking out one girl in particular. He angrily confronted the pretty, big-boned girl. “Are you the one with the yellow dress?”

      Eyes huge, she shook her head, but it was clear that she was lying. The girl cringed as he cut the restraints on her ankles and pulled СКАЧАТЬ