Hannah


Posted by The Black Knight on March 10, 2006 at 15:16:46:

It was a quiet evening at a pub just outside of London, when a small spritely blonde stumbled out the door. Her name was Hannah Spearitt and she was hoping in this out of the way place that her girl-next-door looks would conceal her celebrity. Much to her surprise and delight no one noticed or cared about her fame and she was left alone to pretty much drink herself into a stupor.
"Depressed over your little sitcom getting cancelled?" a man's voice asked from behind her.
She turned around with a frightened look on her face, she hadn't even heard him walk up.
"Everyone hates to loose a steady paycheck." Hannah said in a slurred cockney accent.
"You lost that and a little extra exposure."
"You're American, I recognize the accent." Hannah said with a faint stupified smile.
"I suppose that here I'm the one with the accent and the way that you talk, charming as it may sound, is considered normal."
Hannah stepped off the curb and stumbled. She was beginning to fall when his arms around her waist caught her. Hannah righted herself and winced as he pushed his hands off her belly.
"I've just spent the last several hours filling my belly with booze. If you squeeze too hard it's hard to tell what might come up." Hannah apologized.
She started to walk away and stumbled again, this time falling flat on her face. The American knelt beside her and lay a finger on her throat.
"Maybe you shouldn't have had those last couple drinks, at least not the last one since it had a sedative in it."
Eight hours later Hannah groaned as she began to regain consciousness, then she grimaced in pain because the sound of her own groan hurt her head.
"When am I going to learn not to do that?" Hannah whispered to herself.
She moved to put her hand on her head, but found that she couldn't, then for the first time she noticed that her hands were tied behind something that she was standing against. With a little wriggling Hannah could just barely see that her wrists were tied behind the post that she was standing in front of by strips of black cloth. Hannah looked down and noticed that her ankles were tied together by black cloth and that her black evening gown that she had been wearing was missing, leaving her dressed in a black bra and panties. Hannah plopped her head back on the steel post and grimaced as if she were in agony.
"If you drink like that, you should be willing to deal with a hang over." the American's voice said in front of her.
Hannah opened her eyes and struggled to focus her eyes three feet in front of her, where the American stood. She blinked her eyes several times and finally was able to make him out and noticed that held a tall white staff. In a few seconds her vision cleared enough to make out the staff as a javelin.
"I suppose the knickers go next?" Hannah asked.
"No, I think you're sufficiently tied."
"This is just a kidnapping and we're not going there?" Hannah asked hopefully.
"You are in many ways still the wide eyed innocent you appear to be. No I have no intention of raping you, it leaves too much evidence behind."
Hannah's lips pulled back in a smile as she let out a low sigh of relief.
"Before I leave you, could I ask your name."
"You kidnapped me, stripped me, tied me up, and you don't even know my name?" Hannah asked.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Hannah."
"Hannah what?" he asked.
"Spearitt."
"If you insist." he said as he pushed the end of the javelin into Hannah's big belly-button.
Hannah stiffened as she grimaced in pain. She looked down and a faint smile showed through her agony.
"That was cute, almost." Hannah grunted.
The javelin turned and Hannah's eyes closed tightly as her mouth fell open in a shriek. He pulled the point free and it still had a loop of gut on the end of the javelin when he threw it down.
"Why are you doing this?" gasped Hannah.
He walked up to her and leaned in close so he could whisper in her left ear:
"Just a little present from your old friend Rachel."
Hannah's eyes widened and the shock of betrayal could easily be seen on her face. Suddenly Hannahs' eyes narrowed and her jaw tightened in anger.
"I-In my bag...my last three paychecks...I want you...to gut her...like...fish." Hannah gasped.
"Nice sentiment, but Rachel's been dead for three days. This was her dying wish, that I impale you and leave you to die."
"How did she get it?" Hannah gasped.
"9mm pistol, six in the belly and one in the heart."
"I'll bet she squealled like a pig." Hannah said with an evil grin on her face.
"Far be it from me to interfere with the last wish of a condemned woman, but the wound that I gave you is not exactly life threatening. You could with proper medical care live to a ripe old age. Unfortunately you have seen me so I guess I have to finish you off."
Hannah's eyes widened in fear when she saw the small caliber pistol in his hand. He walked around beside her and pulled her hair back off her left ear. Hannah jerked when she felt the cold gun barrel touch behind her ear.
"According to most medical accounts this is the quickest and painless way to kill someone with a gun." he said.
"What's the matter couldn't you look me in the eye while you shot me?" Hannah teased.
He walked around in front of her and the gun barked. Hannah tried to bend over as she screamed in pain.
"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?" he asked as he looked down at the bullet hole below Hannah's navel.
"Everyone." Hannah gasped.
"Oh and by the way no, Rachel did not squeal like a pig. She was like you a professional singer and used her abdominal muscles when she breathed. Right now you're wheezing after one shot, so you can imagine that Rachel was completely out of breath after taking six bullets."
He leveled the gun on the spritely blonde's chest and she tensed. Fire blazed from the gun barrel and time seemed to slow down for Hannah Spearitt. It seemed to her as if she could see the bullet flying toward her in slow motion, then she felt the burning stabbbing pain as it hit her chest, went between two ribs, to lodge in her heart. Hannah opened her mouth to speak, but all she could manage was a weak little:
"Oh!"
Her head sagged down on her chest as she slumped forward held up only by the remains of her dress still tied to her wrists. The assassin walked away and left the tiny blonde as she stood.