There, to Michael's shock and horror, he found upon the kitchen floor a man with a torn white shirt, on top of a woman, whose legs were forced, spread wide open, her arms held down at the wrists, as she kicked and screamed trying to get him out of her. The loudness of her voice concealed the sound of Michael's entrance into the little kitchen where he reached, instinctively, for a long, sharp butcher knife hanging from a magnetic strip along the wall to his right. With the quickness and precision of a surgeon Michael came up behind the rapist as his victim grew silent, in those brief seconds, as she watched wide eyed as the stranger took his left hand, grabbing a hank of her attackers hair, pulling his head back with great strength and force, Michael took the long knife in his right hand and instantly made a deep penetrating slice into the carotid artery, just behind the rapists left ear, and in a profound display of naked, brutal, ruthless power Michael constrained the knife deeply, painfully across, and into, the doomed man's throat, as hot, sticky blood spewed out from the long, thin crimson gash, his victim closed her eyes to the horror and gore feeling the warm, vile liquid, drip down over her face, lips, throat and bare breasts, as she felt the unknown attacker go limp with a hideous gurgling sound as he collapsed on top of her. Screaming, with her eyes closed tightly shut, the violated woman scurried back trying to get away, kicking with her legs to free herself from the blood soaked corpse.
Michael threw the bloodstained knife down, where it slid, hidden, under on of the long metal prep tables, as he reached down pulling the corpse off of the terrified woman who had crawled to the back of the kitchen by the brick wall, where she curled up into little ball, trembling like a frightened rabbit, her hair, face and body drenched with the blood of a criminal. Michael walked slowly over towards her, his hands with open palms, a calmness and kindness in his eyes, saying in English, "It's okay, lady, he can't hurt you now." his voice sounding comforting to her, even though his heart was about to explode from the energy and excitement of what had just happened. Michael did not pause to stop and think about what he had just done, all he knew was he had to help this poor woman, who gazed at him with absolute terror in her black eyes; which peered up through a red mask of bloody death.
Felina Sarafina de la Rosa Diaz sat there on the cold tile floor shivering uncontrollably as she opened her eyes staring out in shock and macabre wonder at the handsome, tall, blue-eyed stranger who had just saved her life. Felina's eyes gazed over at her assailant who had collapsed in a dead heap, the blood and life pooling from his body by the kitchen door all over the floor. Felina had no words, she could not speak, but she gave such a dreadful, disgusted look down at her half naked body, saturated in the blood of a criminal, Felina's handsome savior took great pity on her so he bent down and lifted her up off the floor, bringing her over to the dish washing sink.
She was a little wisp woman, an attractive full bosomed female, in her mid thirties, who could not be more than five feet tall, and she was as light as an armful of feathers. Michael knew the importance of washing the blood off her body as quickly as possible, to prevent any contamination, so he sat her on the edge of the deep steel sink and taking the nozzle, normally used to rinse dishes, Michael sprayed her down with the warm cleansing soap and water as she shook nervously as she used her hands to cup the water over her face, rinsing out any blood that may have dripped into her eyes. She said nothing as the stranger quickly helped to clean her up, he unbuckled the straps of her now ruined snakeskin, high heel shoes; which Michael tossed in the trash bin then he reached down washing off her bloodstained feet. Next he washed off the blood from his hands and forearms, Michael thought how unlike this was to a scrub sink in the operating room, then he could suddenly smell the blood, a fetid metallic odor he remembered from his days in surgery. With a regretful sigh, he went to find some clean bar towels to dry her body and cover her up with,this is when Felina took the nozzle of the long hose as she removed her tattered, torn skirt and used the warm water to rinse out the blood and semen from her body as she controlled her overwhelming urge to vomit as her body grew cold and every fiber of her being was as tense as wire.
Michael turned and noticed her doing this, but said nothing as he realized the horror and significance of a woman who had been raped, that she had been violated INSIDE of her own body, that must be a very difficult memory to hold, and Michael went over to her with great sympathy and condolences in his expression as he tenderly wrapped her up in a few table cloths he had found in the linen closet. Felina took one of the tablecloths wrapping it around her long black mass of wet hair and she looked like a little shepherd girl who had lost her flock in a rainstorm. Felina gazed up at the handsome, blue-eyed American and with tears welling up in her expressive dark eyes she said to him in Spanish "Tenemos que llamar a la Policia."
Now Michael was not fluent in Espanol, but he knew what Policia meant, then a terror, greater than killing a human being, on purpose, was being identified by the Argentine Police, whom Michael was sure would notify the F.B.I. and Michael could not let this happen. His eyes grew wide in fear and he turned to leave, shaking his head saying "I'm sorry, I can't let the police find me here!"
"Wait! You can't just leave me here!" Felina pleaded to him in his native tongue. "I don't even know your name." she began to weep and moan, the weight of this terrible night, the defilement of her precious body, the blood and the horror. "Where are you going to now? Your tee shirt and jeans are splattered with blood!" Felina began crying and wailing like a wounded animal and with every tear drop she shed Michael's heart melted like wax over a flame and he turned back to her saying "Shh, everything is going to be okay."
Michael threw the bloodstained knife down, where it slid, hidden, under on of the long metal prep tables, as he reached down pulling the corpse off of the terrified woman who had crawled to the back of the kitchen by the brick wall, where she curled up into little ball, trembling like a frightened rabbit, her hair, face and body drenched with the blood of a criminal. Michael walked slowly over towards her, his hands with open palms, a calmness and kindness in his eyes, saying in English, "It's okay, lady, he can't hurt you now." his voice sounding comforting to her, even though his heart was about to explode from the energy and excitement of what had just happened. Michael did not pause to stop and think about what he had just done, all he knew was he had to help this poor woman, who gazed at him with absolute terror in her black eyes; which peered up through a red mask of bloody death.
Felina Sarafina de la Rosa Diaz sat there on the cold tile floor shivering uncontrollably as she opened her eyes staring out in shock and macabre wonder at the handsome, tall, blue-eyed stranger who had just saved her life. Felina's eyes gazed over at her assailant who had collapsed in a dead heap, the blood and life pooling from his body by the kitchen door all over the floor. Felina had no words, she could not speak, but she gave such a dreadful, disgusted look down at her half naked body, saturated in the blood of a criminal, Felina's handsome savior took great pity on her so he bent down and lifted her up off the floor, bringing her over to the dish washing sink.
She was a little wisp woman, an attractive full bosomed female, in her mid thirties, who could not be more than five feet tall, and she was as light as an armful of feathers. Michael knew the importance of washing the blood off her body as quickly as possible, to prevent any contamination, so he sat her on the edge of the deep steel sink and taking the nozzle, normally used to rinse dishes, Michael sprayed her down with the warm cleansing soap and water as she shook nervously as she used her hands to cup the water over her face, rinsing out any blood that may have dripped into her eyes. She said nothing as the stranger quickly helped to clean her up, he unbuckled the straps of her now ruined snakeskin, high heel shoes; which Michael tossed in the trash bin then he reached down washing off her bloodstained feet. Next he washed off the blood from his hands and forearms, Michael thought how unlike this was to a scrub sink in the operating room, then he could suddenly smell the blood, a fetid metallic odor he remembered from his days in surgery. With a regretful sigh, he went to find some clean bar towels to dry her body and cover her up with,this is when Felina took the nozzle of the long hose as she removed her tattered, torn skirt and used the warm water to rinse out the blood and semen from her body as she controlled her overwhelming urge to vomit as her body grew cold and every fiber of her being was as tense as wire.
Michael turned and noticed her doing this, but said nothing as he realized the horror and significance of a woman who had been raped, that she had been violated INSIDE of her own body, that must be a very difficult memory to hold, and Michael went over to her with great sympathy and condolences in his expression as he tenderly wrapped her up in a few table cloths he had found in the linen closet. Felina took one of the tablecloths wrapping it around her long black mass of wet hair and she looked like a little shepherd girl who had lost her flock in a rainstorm. Felina gazed up at the handsome, blue-eyed American and with tears welling up in her expressive dark eyes she said to him in Spanish "Tenemos que llamar a la Policia."
Now Michael was not fluent in Espanol, but he knew what Policia meant, then a terror, greater than killing a human being, on purpose, was being identified by the Argentine Police, whom Michael was sure would notify the F.B.I. and Michael could not let this happen. His eyes grew wide in fear and he turned to leave, shaking his head saying "I'm sorry, I can't let the police find me here!"
"Wait! You can't just leave me here!" Felina pleaded to him in his native tongue. "I don't even know your name." she began to weep and moan, the weight of this terrible night, the defilement of her precious body, the blood and the horror. "Where are you going to now? Your tee shirt and jeans are splattered with blood!" Felina began crying and wailing like a wounded animal and with every tear drop she shed Michael's heart melted like wax over a flame and he turned back to her saying "Shh, everything is going to be okay."
No comments:
Post a Comment