The Dream

Posted by Barbanne on August 01, 2002 at 23:58:48:


Its always the same.
The dream.
Like a movie running in my head.
I see myself in bed with Sam. We have been fooling around and I am down on him my mouth filled with his rampant cock and I am sucking and tonguing and humming and my head bobs up and down and he moans in pleasure.
We are finished and I can taste his cum in my mouth. He kisses me, thumbs my nipples and then he is gone. I am walking around stretching and exercising in my undies and then I get the call from Sarah. She sounds desperate and I throw on shorts and an outsized tee shirt and wheel out my bike and cycle over to her flat. I park my bike and walk up the narrow stairs to her door on the third floor. I knock and the door opens and then..................
Its like the film is still running, celluloid sprocketing through the gate but all that happens in my mind is heaps of flashing blackness. Like a video that's worn out. I try to remember, to see pictures but nothing. Then it starts to clear. Vague shapes form and I see the outlines of faceless people. Sarah? Is it Sarah. Someone else...........a man??
Then it goes black and flashy again and then I seem to be in a confined space and I hurt and my hands and feet are bound and I can smell the sharpness of urine and the coppery heat of spilt blood and fear, the stench of my own fear. Then it's totally blank. White screen. Nothing. And then the police are at my bed and they are questioning me, putting words in my mouth and I tell them what I think they want to hear and then they tell me Sarah is dead and I wake up sweating and screaming. Always sweating and screaming.

It's always the same dream.
The police have asked me what happened and I tell them what they tell me happened.
I can't remember.
I can't remember anything but setting out and going to the flat and being in hospital.
I know though that Sarah is dead and that they found me hanging from a hook in the ceiling of her bedroom, slowly rotating, my bloodied, battered, nude body above her dead and nude body. She had been savaged and I had been bitten and beaten and repeatedly raped and presumably left for dead.
But I can't remember what happened.
Sam is so wonderfully helpful. Without him I would have been unable to cope. Many times I have considered killing myself. I am damaged goods and were it not for the amazing comfort and support he gives me I could not go on. He and Brad have been friends forever, mates and true buddies in that unquestioning way that men can be and women must envy. So when Brad comes to take me to meet with Sam I go with him knowing that I couldn't be safer. He takes me to the cabin Sam and he have in the woods north of the city. It is their hideout, their getaway place. I have been before and have felt priviledged to be asked into this inner sanctum, this place where males bond and where they go to do a little shooting and plenty of drinking.
Sam isn't there.
"He'll be along soon," says Brad.
"Are you sure?" I ask, "you said he was waiting." I feel slightly uneasy.
"He will be here soon Barb. I don't know what is holding him."
I feel even greater unease and the movie is running in my head. I get off my bike and walk up to Sarah's flat. The door opens.
Swirling forms, shapes, people, a person and then it clears. It has never cleared before.
"YOU!!!!" I scream and then I am screaming and screaming.


A woman walking her dog beside the upper city reach of the river today found the body of a young woman lying on the bank. The body was nude and smeared with mud and was lying partly hidden amongst rubbish some three metres from the water. Police were called and described the death as suspicious and advised that it was being treated as a major crime. Your correspondent has been told by reliable sources that the woman had been repeatedly raped before being strangled with a fine ligature, most probably a wire and that she died some ten hours before her body was found. The identity of the murdered woman has not been revealed but it is understood that she is known to police and had been the victim of a previous vicious sexual attack.
This is the third time this year that a young woman has been killed in this manner and police are investigating the possibility of a link between the murders.

Sam folded the paper and put it aside.
Damn Barbanne. Why hadn't she died the first time? God knows he had hit her hard enough and when he had left her hanging from the ceiling she had been bleeding enough she should have just bled out. Oh well, it was done now. Damn it though, now the police were looking at all of them. And what about the othes they hadn't linked yet? Some smart arse would no doubt find the common similarities between the women. After all there were twenty of them.
Damn Barbanne.

The photographer was finished.
The pathologist stood by waiting while the diener used his hand held hose to wash away the river mud revealing the cold, white, marbleised flesh of the dead body.
She lay on her back. Eyes closed and mouth open.The warm water trickled over her breasts and tummy and between her legs. Her pubic hair slicked down in the in the stream of water.........................