The walk back from the final felt markedly different from Elara Finch's race to class earlier. Of course, the sun was setting, and the cool autumn air was turning brisk. She shrugged deeper into her sweater, cursing herself silently for forgetting her jacket. Elara was only thankful that she left her depressingly heavy backpack at the dorm, since she only needed a pen for her psych final. At the thought of that, Elara's head perched just a tad higher. That final had been easy for her, almost too easy considering the late-night cram session she'd endured. Her stiff neck and shoulders wouldn't let her forget it soon, either. A nice, warm shower and some hot tea sounded like the perfect way to cap off the evening. Tomorrow, Elara would go back to see her family for winter break. She hadn't seen her parents since they dropped her off at the beginning of the semester, and as cliché as it sounded, she missed them terribly.
The sun hung low on the horizon, the history building just barely blocking the view. However, the purple and golden haze still managed to flood the courtyard, a remarkable view that tempted Elara to stop at one of the many benches and relax. She shook her head silently and marched towards her room. A shiver cut through her, reminding her about the reward of a warm shower if she arrived before the rest of the dorm got into full party mode. Her parents had both been legacy graduates of the college, so she earned the privilege of a private dorm with an en-suite bathroom. However, a quiet shower would be most preferable to the ruckus that would soon fill the halls, as everyone would be leaving for their own families within the day or two. Elara had plans to ask her parents for an apartment after the first year. It couldn't be much more expensive than the private dorm room, but Elara would even settle for roommates if she could only get out of the dorm. The smells, sounds, and sometimes tastes of dorm life were something Elara could not wait to put well in her rearview mirror.
The hallways of the dorm were already filled with people, and Elara had to weave between them to make it to the end of the hallway. The smell of cheap beer, perfume, and aftershave clung to her sweater, causing Elara to roll her eyes as she tossed it into her hamper. She sighed heavily and took in the air of her dorm. It took weeks to remove the previous inhabitant's stench, something akin to processed cheese and bean farts. However, now, she had settled on an "ocean breeze" air freshener she picked up at a gas station. A car clip that she strategically clipped onto the radiator. She doubted that little air freshener could keep up with what was brewing outside, but perhaps her hot tea collection could help. She filled the electric kettle, set her glasses on the table next to her bed, and finished undressing for her shower. If she timed it right, the water should be ready by the time she finished her shower.
Once safely cocooned inside the shower's hot embrace, the world's stresses always seemed to melt away. Her aching muscles relaxed, and she felt both oddly energized and a sense of calm. Soon the room filled with steam and she could scarcely hear the party anymore. Her pale skin was red and blotchy by the time Elara managed to turn the water off and step out of the shower. It was then that she noticed an odd feeling. It felt as though the barometric pressure in her bathroom dropped, like it would before a storm was about to hit. This unnerving feeling intensified as she reached for her towel; something odd caught her eye in the mirror.
Without acting, Elara continued to dry off. She mentally checked to see if she remembered to lock her door. Yes, it was something she had always done. She glanced again, making sure to only look out of the corner of her eye, a practice she had mastered as a child prone to a bit of mischief. There was someone in the other room watching her. She couldn't quite make out the shape of them; they seemed to have stuffed themselves into the nook between her bed and desk. If it weren't for the slight angle of her bathroom mirror, she wouldn't have spotted them at all. Unfortunately for Elara, that location also blocked the only way out of the room; she was trapped, and what was worse, her glasses were at most 2 feet from the stranger in her room.
She only had a few more seconds to make up her mind before the stranger would figure out she knew they were there. It was then that she heard the beeping sound of her electric kettle. She wrapped the towel around her, but before she could turn towards the doorway, she heard what nearly sounded like a growl from the other room and a smashing of what Elara could only assume was her electric kettle against the wall.
'Fuck!' Elara thought to herself, panic filling her lungs. A strange stinging sensation ran down her arms, followed by a pulse surging energy through her body, urging her to run. But she held still for a nanosecond before she peered around the open doorway to where she believed her electric kettle was. Her eyes met a rather strange sight.
Next to her bed was a man in a dark coat, or not a coat. Was it a dress? A robe? Elara couldn't quite make out what the man was wearing, but he was a man. Even hunched over her dresser, the man was taller than her and seemed to be looking through the shattered pieces of her kettle. He grunted something unknown to her and then stood up, placing a ring on what appeared to be hands bigger than an arm wrestler's ever dreamed of. 'Fuck!' Elara thought again. He was facing the main door, blocking her only escape route. Straightening herself, Elara looked to the closest thing to her, her computer desk, and spotted her hole-punch still out, notebooks littering her desk from last night's frenzied studying.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." His haughty voice held the same condescending tone as too many of her professors. He hadn't even turned to face her. She took a breath to reconsider her choices. On the other side of the desk were her glasses. Without losing sight of the man, Elara reached over, and as she did, her eyes tracked the man as he crossed the small room to stand in front of her. What shocked her was the actual size of the man's hand on her slender wrist, entombing it with his thumb pressing deeply, enough to cause pain, and would surely leave a bruise there later.
"You won't be needing those, either." His voice held an accent that Elara hadn't heard before. It was like a melody, with some Germanic sounds that, if she had heard it from anyone else, she might have enjoyed. The man's hand forcefully guided Elara around the desk, removing the obstacle between them.
Elara kept her eyes away from his face. His presence loomed over her, and her instincts were battling for her to fight. She had met her fair share of drunk frat boys and "Nice Guys" to sense danger, and this man was worse than anything she had ever known. Still, she kept her head down, clinging to her towel around her with her other hand. She lifted her head enough to see that, yes, the psychopath in her room was indeed wearing a robe. It was a deep indigo color with gold embellishments. There seemed to be a pattern sewn into the trim, but before Elara could make it out, she felt the cold flesh of the man's finger, lifting her chin upward.
"A shy sparrow, eh?" His chin dipped, and he lifted his hand more, forcing Elara to look up at him. "Don't worry, this part only hurts for a little while." His smirk grew into a Cheshire-like, grotesque grin. His finger slid along the line of Elara's chin, up her jaw in a mockingly affectionate way. She closed her eyes, unsure of where he was going with this, but knew it couldn't be anywhere good.
His hand cupped her jaw, though his palm was big enough that her entire face fit inside of it. His muscles flinched, and then, without any effort, he slammed her face into the table. The shock of it caused Elara to lose her balance completely, dropping her towel and scraping her shoulder against the table ledge. The man's hand held her face still against the table. Elara groaned and grunted. Her hands flat on the table, she tried in vain to regain herself. She soon found her footing once again, but the leverage the man had on her made it impossible for Elara to stand up. She was pinned.
"Why are you doing this?" Her small voice croaked. The man moved beside her. He said some words that Elara assumed were in a different language. His head lowered and he whispered into her ear, "It's my job." he said. Then planted a soft kiss behind her ear. "Now, I don't want to minimize how much this IS going to hurt." His other hand slowly caressed down Elara's back, rounding along her ass and stopping just short of her thighs. He applied pressure on her inner thigh as an obvious sign to open her legs. "No, please..." Elara hesitated. His arm knocked her thigh again, this time forcing them open. Immediately, Elara's whole body flushed with embarrassment.
