He told her that she was dying. But she already knew that.<br/><br/>But if she was going down for the big sleep, she wasn't going down without a fight. Even if no one were to know, to put it on her tombstone, she would NOT go down without a fight.<br/><br/>But he was so strong. Allison felt her strength drain, like water in a sink. This was it. Soon she would lose consciousness, and that would be all she wrote.<br/><br/>Then he stopped. He stopped suffocating her. He didn't want her to die just yet.<br/><br/>She was up on her feet now, gasping for breath. Her breaths were too convulsive to do anything more than suck in oxygen. She couldn't talk, yet alone scream. Her mouth was free but it was merely a tool with which to breathe. Nothing vocal could be produced.<br/><br/>Her attacker knew that, of course. He knew exactly what he was doing. Allison came to the horrifying conclusion that this wasn't some amateur dude who saw her from the bushes and made a spur of the moment decision to assault her. This man had purpose to go with his great strength. He also had a coldness of heart. Allison could tell in the manner that he spoke.<br/><br/>His voice was calm yet filled with venom. Misogynistic, even. He was getting great pleasure from this and it's as if he had rehearsed everything before she got home.<br/><br/>He slammed her against the fridge, her purple flip-flops flying off her bare feet. Again Allison fought to regain her breath. He was playing with her, like a dog with a toy.<br/><br/>Allison heard her utensil drawer being emptied onto the floor. He was on her, his paw of a hand over her mouth. She blinked up and could sort of make out his face in the moonlit kitchen. If he could see her eyes, he would have seen them wide open, like saucers.<br/><br/>She didn't even hear him tearing duct tape from the roll. Hell, she forgot that there was duct tape in the kitchen drawers at all. He must have opened several drawers. Had she passed out briefly?<br/><br/>He strapped a strip over her mouth and pressed down.<br/><br/>"MMMMMMM!!" was the first thing Allison "said" since she was attacked. She began to sob.<br/><br/>"How do you want it? Front or back?" he growled. Yet there was good humor in his voice. Yes, he was playing. He was having fun.<br/><br/>Allison whimpered. Front or back? She thought he meant sex. He wanted to fuck her and was giving her a choice of front or rear entry.<br/><br/>She shook her head back and forth, the man's weight making it hard for her to breathe. This wasn't a man. This was a monster.<br/><br/>Allison meekly pressed her manicured hands against his chest, and he used that opportunity to grab her wrists and wind tape around them. The sound of tape tearing from the roll filled the kitchen.<br/><br/>Her phone, which had been in her purse, was ringing in the distance. Probably her mother. Or Kayla, her BFF and fellow nurse.<br/><br/>The monster got Allison's wrists taped in front of her. Her mouth was firmly taped shut. Her chest heaved with each breath as she blinked and looked up, her eyes adjusting more to the moonlight. She got a glimpse of him. His face was that of determination and zeal for what he was doing.<br/><br/>Allison screamed. Not to be heard, but to get her fear, frustration and angst out.<br/><br/>"MMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!"