The Journey home...

[Koneko]

I hate afterchool classes. If it's not the fact that there's only five of us stuck in a grubby class room with that perv of a maths tutor (I swear he's tugging himself off under the desk as we work), And if it's not crossing the grounds in total darkness, then it's the train home. Our station is slap bang in the middle of a parade of shops, and when I'm leaving school at a regular time, it's heaving. My friends are all around me. Jessica's tells me off every time I light up, there's noise, and that sense of relief that you've got through another day, but on thursdays..  it's dead. I mean really dead, no cars, no people, every shop is shut by five. There's not even anyone at the station. You just get your ticket from the machine, and go through.
The platform is freezing. I unpin my skirt and roll it back down to knee length. I want to put my jumper on, but that'd mean taking my blazer off and that'd be colder... And the train takes ages to turn up. The timetable says it's 3 times an hour, but it feels like one every three. I am so cold, so tired, and so desperate to get home, that when the train turns up, I just get on. find a seat and drop my stuff down. that little bit of me that feels nervous is too quiet to be heard over the bit of me thats cheering to be in the warm. 
Usually, this time of night I have the carriage all to myself, though now I look around...

[Sprayman]

And see an old man watching you. No, not watching, staring at you and slowly undressing you with his deepset ice blue eyes. He stares intently at your young and tender body, and a slow smile spreads across his face. His eyes are boring through your blazer and blouse and caressing the tender flesh beneath them. I am that man! My eyes travel down to your skirt which barely covers your knees. They try to see what is hidden beneath the skirt. I will you to part your knees and allow my eyes to gaze on the hidden treasures. I know that my stares are making you nervous and that you want to leave this carriage, but my mind compels you to stay. I sense that you also feel other emotions but do not understand them yet. I continue to extend my power and silently command you to part your knees. Despite the warmth of the carriage, a strange chill creeps across you body and you - - -

[Koneko]

I steel myself, and pull my bags together. standing on legs that seem to have turned to ice cream, the heat from the blower under the seat feels like it's melting them. I hav to walk very slowly to the intercariage door. halfway down the aisle, not looking back,not looking back, I think. my hands are filled with bags... how am I going to open the door. The pressure behind me could be a hard gaze, could be a hand. don't stop..don't turn... don't panic

[Sprayman]

Don't panic, but if you leave this carriage, I will have to follow you. The pressure you feel is my stare and the power I project. I silently  command you to return to your seat. And when you sit, sit with your knees apart. You know that if you leave this carriage and I have to follow you, the force you feel will be my hands, not my mind. Do not leave this carriage, for if you do, I will have to harm you. No one will assist you. No one can interfear with my plan. You WILL OBEY or you must suffer the consequences! Make your choice now, for I grow impatient with this game! You . . .

[Koneko]

Every thing I think about turns to shit in my head. I drop all my bags and run. There's a horrible splintering sound behind me as my violin case bounces off a seat, and the instrument hits the floor. I make it to the door unimpeded,  and slam it behind me. I keep running, I am not looking for help, I'm not even trying to escape. I mean.. I can run faster than him right? I just try to put as much distance between me and him as possible. I think about calling the police, but the image of my phone, weighed down by twenty hangers , secured safetly in my satchel... and now way behind me, rules that one out

[Sprayman]

You choose to flee! I will follow, and remember, there is an end to everything. An end to your fear, and an end to this train. There are only two carriages beyond this one. Running from you fate has made me angry! If I catch you before the train reaches a station, I will make you sorry for running. Pain will be your reward. More pain than you have ever known. I may be old and somewhat slow, but I never give up and I am still quite strong. In my pocket is a sharp knife and some rope and other things to cause you concern. I will find you even if you manage to escape today. I have your bags and your instrument. I will find you and it will not be pleasant for you when I do!

[ghostgirl]

...i shrink deeper into my seat in the corner, trying to make myself smaller...invisible, if that were possible..eyes locked on the tall man's back, standing silent and unmoving in the way of predators,his attention still on the fleeing girl, now scrambling up the station steps, putting ever-increasing distance between herself...and us.

i'd been unable to tear my eyes from their silent exchange, squandering precious moments i could have used to effect my own escape watching with horrified fascination, the rancid scent of her fear filling the carriage and making the hairs on the back of my neck rise, her panicky dash for the neighboring carriage appearing futile. All three of us had been so intent on the chase that we froze in concert as the train ground to a halt at the next station; the girl recovered first, bursting from the sliding doors like a dark filly from the starting gate...stumbling...recovering...running....

i swallow hard; my throat is dry and tight, my palms wet and slippery. My face grows hot as i realize my inner thighs, clamped together and trembling with tension, are damp as well. My lungs are burning; i don't dare release the breath i'm holding captive in my chest.

The door slides shut with a pneumatic hiss. He hasn't moved. "Don't turn, don't look at me," i pray silently as the train lurches forward...

[Sprayman]

The bird has flown. Fate has worked against me tonight. Fate opened the doors at this station before my hands could catch the prize! My pretty oriental schoolgirl races up the stairs and is gone into the night. Running after her at my age is futile. Running after pretty girls is for younger men.

Stealth and guile are an old man's way. That, and the power of my mind. A true predator can often freeze prey with a look and a thought! I have done it before, and more than once. The train lurches into movement once more as I consider my options. If I can find this bird again, she will be sorry! She left her bags and her fiddle when she fled. Perhaps something in them will help me find her again. I turn to collect her leavings.

And see that this night may not be a complete lost after all. One bird has flown but another is still perched!

A predator fixates on a single prey. But if fate snatches that one away and presents another . . .

[ghostgirl]

My held breath breaks free, releasing itself in a long, barely audible sigh; i flinch at the sound, loud over my heart thudding dully in my ears. My stomach churns as his head slowly turns, his ice-blue gaze over his shoulder pinning me to the vinyl seat. i freeze, unable to form a single coherent thought, unwilling to look away...

[Sprayman]

My gaze seems to have more power over this bird. She seems barely able to draw breath. The old adage about 'a bird in the hand...' comes to mind but this one shows no sign of taking flight.

I keep my eyes locked on her as gather up the pretty schoolgirl's belongings. Her fiddle is broken, lying part way out of it's case, so I push it under a seat. But her bag holds many treasures and i put it's strap over my shoulder.

My second prize hasn't moved at all. Holding holding her arms across her chest, she stares at me with large round eyes that now have tears growing in their corners. Eyes that almost seem mesmerized by mine.

Once I have the bag secured, I move slowly toward my new prize and see her. . .

[ghostgirl]

...i watch, frozen, as he turns and deals meticulously with the escaped girl's discarded belongings, his stance and movements confident, almost casual in their deliberation. For a heart-stopping moment i think he's going to ignore me....but then he turns again toward me, taking an easy step in my direction, his long legs closing the distance between us in a sickeningly swift manner.

i shake my head once, attempting to clear the fog. My arm rises, reaching for the aluminum pole next to me, as slowly as in one of my nightmares, fingers curling around it tightly, slippery and cold with my own sweat, knuckles whitening. My skin prickles, fine hairs rising at the back of my neck...nipples sympathetically tightening under my thin silk camisole...a soft swish of nylon as my thighs kiss, twisting my hips away, half-rising on rubbery uncooperative legs, wobbling slightly on my high heels. My laptop glows on the seat next to me, it's aluminum case and my neatly folded wool business suit jacket next to it. "i couldn't be less prepared to make a run for it if i'd tried," a soft voice of despair whispers in my mind....

[Sprayman]

At last she thinks of flight, but far too late my little bird. This one can't outrun me, she can barely stand and her fashionable shoes aren't made for running. I move closer. Now she has nowhere to run. Sitting in a corner leaves few choices for escape and  I am positioned to stop any rush!

I continue to stare into her eyes, willing her to sit again as I move even closer.

I reach out with my left hand and grasp the same the same pole that she holds. My right draws the flick knife from my coat pocket. One last look around the carriage to insure we are alone, then I press the button and the shiny silver blade springs into view inches from her staring eyes! Now I command her, "Sit down and don't move!" I turn the knife so the shiny blade flashes. . .

[ghostgirl]

i inhale sharply, sinking and squeezing back against the seat, flinching away from the knife held inches from my face; it looks well cared-for and hideously sharp, gleaming coldly under the florescent lighting. Jesus, he's tall. And close...far too close; i can smell his aftershave and his voice coils around me like a python, a voice accustomed to giving orders and having them obeyed.

Moving slowly, eyes locked on his, i cross my legs, then my arms across my chest, hoping i look more confident than defensive. i swallow hard; my throat is dry and tight. "i'm not carrying any cash, but the laptop is yours." My voice sounds high-pitched, girlish, and strange in my ears, but at least it doesn't waver.

[Sprayman]

"Thank you my dear, but I already have a computer, and adequate funds. You possess other things that I don't have though, at least not yet."

She tries to put forth a brave front but I can see that my knife frightens her. Her voice is slightly forced and perhaps a trifle shrill. This pleases me. I want her frightened! Fear will make her more obedient. The next station is where the van is parked, so we will have to be ready to leave. I need to impose my will on her now and fear will help.

"We will be getting off at the next station. Hold out your right arm. I have a gift for you. A lovely bracelet to wear while we take a short walk."

With my left hand, I reach into my coat's oversized pocket, and remove the stainless steel manacles and hold them out to her. . .

[ghostgirl]

My jaw drops; i stare at the proffered metal cuff, then at his face. His eyes are ice-blue, mesmerizing in their utter ruthlessness. A wave of adrenalin-fueled rage washes over me; i snap my mouth shut and set my lips in a tight line, fighting panicky nausea, mind racing.

"If i miss my meeting, the police will be swarming the area within the hour. i have a high-profile job, wealthy friends with virtually unlimited resources, a fiance with a possessive streak and a rotten temper,and above all, important work to do. i'm afraid what i don't have is time to invest in your little charade. You've had your fun, now back off...while there's still no harm done." i fold my hands on lap, clenching them to hide their trembling, and wait for him to blink.