Hours had passed since her virgin blood and tears had baptized the dusty wooden floor of the strange house with the monster who had hurt her. Jessie had been despondent during the encounter, only crying out when the pain came to be too much, or when he had slapped her to draw her back into the moment with him. The moments of clarity were hell and she preferred the times when she could disconnect from the unimaginable suffering happening to her body.

He had lifted her off the ground when he was done and she had wept as he carried her up a narrow set of stairs and into a bedroom. Depositing her on the bed like a sack of potatoes, and turning on his heel she had listened to the clicking of his boots, cringing at the sound of the heavy footfalls and the turned key in the lock that followed after a slamming of the door.

Numbly she had looked around the room, finding only a boarded window, and a small bed with a filthy mattress, no sheets or pillows. Only a brown wool blanket that may have started it's life as a white blanket. The filth of the room was discernible. She couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since someone had scrubbed the floors thick with dust, and what the bloody stain on the center of the mattress seemed to be.

Realizing pretty quickly that the bed had probably been used for something similar to what had happened to her, but weren't most women virgins when they were taken to bed? Would she beed every time, or only when she was hurt? Her questions mixed with the horror of what had happened to her. Sitting silently as she fixated on things like the crack of the vase on the bedside table. The dead rose wilted and browned. Studying it closely, unaware of how long she had been doing so. It could have been minutes, or hours, and she would have no idea, but the sound of steps on the creaky steps brought her to attention and she drew herself back toward the headboard of the bed. Her body beginning to quiver as the key fit in the lock and she heard the clicking. Raising her gaze to the man who had done this to her silently.

He stepped inside, kicking the door closed behind him. She jumped at the sound and squeezed her eyes closed, drawing her knees up to her chest, the remnants of her dress bloodied and torn from his attack on her. A whimper at the pain of the movement and the terror bubbling inside escaping from her lips. He paused, and growled. "You made me do this. See what you made me do?" Crossing the space between them and glaring at the stain on the bed, mistaking it for her own blood and moving to shove her legs apart to look at the damage sustained there. Her shaking grew and she struggled as best she could to prevent him but to no avail. Even before her attack she wasn't capable of physically overpowering him, and they both knew it.

Sighing after taking a long look at his handy work, and unfolding the stained blanket he threw it over her legs. Muttering. "Stupid bitch. You made me do that. You couldn't just be sweet, and I had to…"

Sounding as if he was half trying to convince himself of her guilt. She was silent, slowly opening her eyes to face the man who had terrorized her. Face pale, and eyes wide. She had lost a fair amount of blood. He seemed to consider the best course of action, and finally sat down on the edge of the bed. His hand digging into the interior pocket of his jacket. Producing from it a metal flask. "This'll help you feel better. We got travelin' to do tomorrow." Turning the top of the flask until it was open and handing it over. She had never drank anything. Even when her brother had stolen a sip of champagne at a New Years party she had turned down the opportunity. Unwilling to do anything so unacceptable. But as it was now, she took the flask and tilted it back, swallowing as much of the liquid fire as she could before he took the flask from her hands and patted her back as she coughed. Eyes flooded with tears as she gasped for breath. Managing weakly between her coughs. "Poison?"

His dark laughter filled the room and he grinned as he answered. "Gin." Jessie coughed and laid back down as the heat travelled from her throat down to the base of her belly. Gazing up to the ceiling as he moved to lay down beside her. She trembled and with drew to the far edge of the bed, before his strong arms pulled her against him again. His voice a little hiss.

"You're gonna be spending the night with men every night for the rest of your life little Miss Jessica. Get used to it." She gritted her teeth, horrified by the promise in his words, but not struggling against him any more. Just laying there, her muscles taut as the alcohol began to numb just the fringes of her pain.

" Now that we know each other a little better, why don't we try this again…" His voice was hot against her throat and smelled of rum. There must be another bottle of liquor somewhere in the house she found herself thinking. Anything to put her mind on something other then him and his wandering hands. And what he had done, and what she was certain he intended to do again. " I think you lied to me, Jessie… And I don't like to be lied too."

Terror coursed through her at the cold malice in his voice, and she gazed up to him. Her brow furrowed. Her mouth opening to defend herself against the allegations. Before she could make a noise his hand had swept up her front and moved to encircle the front of her throat. She peered up to him in horror. Tears glittering in her eyes. She was fairly certain she was going to die on this bed, by the hand of this monster and she struggled as his hand tightened, his tongue moving to moisten his lips before he spoke. " I don't think you're sixteen."

He moved his face closer to hers, his fingers tightening around her throat. She struggled for a breath, a strangled cry escaping her lips. His whisper was oddly tender. "You don't have very long, Jessica. Tell me how old you are, or I'll have reason to start digging a very deep hole in my back yard." He punctuated his words with a light kiss to her forehead.

She blinked back her tears and as his hand loosened, she gasped, her voice hoarse and bearing a quality she had never known in it before. Something she couldn't yet identify. "Thirteen."

Hand twitching and a grimace contorting the features of her attacker, he paused to digest that information and muttered. "Fucking stupid little bitch…" Moving to pull her close to him his hand around her throat still, but just resting there. Not tightening, but a constant reminder of his ability to snuff out the candle that was her life at any moment. He was silent for a few minutes as he held her close to him in the bed. Her fate clearly beginning to sit heavily on his mind.

Finally his voice again broke the silence. "Thirteen. Why the hell did you say you were sixteen? Christ… You made me do this." Jessie just stared up to him. Not saying another word. What could she say to his psychotic allegations?

" You don't look thirteen… and I wouldn't have been so rough with you if you hadn't thrown that lantern at me." He justified his actions his eyes flashing, his closing around her throat. Not tightly, but reminding her it was there, as if she could forget the danger for a moment. " If you'd been honest and sweet to me, well, you'd probably be on your way with your aspirin and a smile on your face. Everything that happens.. from tonight and however long it is 'til you die, I want you to think about that. You did this to yourself."

He held her close to him and loosened his hand from her throat, and eventually stroking her dark hair as she began to cry into the filthy mattress. Not another word was spoken for nearly an hour before a knock on the door interrupted the silence she had finally settled into. The sobbing, and being held in the arms of her rapist as she wept had drained her, and she had somehow mercifully drifted off. She sat up as much as she could with his arms still wrapped around her, he stirred too, having also drifted off in the filthy bedroom. She realized too late that she had missed an opportunity, but she was certain it was the place come to save her. Managing to cry out, her voice still raw from the close calls with his fingers, she still managed surprising volume. "HELP! HELP ME!"

He backhanded her and she fell back to the bed, blinking at the taste if iron in her mouth. She gazed up to him, the room lolling in and out of view, he'd hit her harder then she had realized, and she managed to whisper. " The police.. they've come to save me…." Her words slurring from the alcohol and the impact, and perhaps from the shock of it all too.

Laughter filled the room and it began to shrink on her sights as consciousness fought with her. Hearing his amused words, the hope that had given flight in her heart quickly freefalling, it's wings cut. His words repeating in her mind over and over again.

"Those aren't coppers… they're my friends. They ain't here to save you. They're here to sample the new goods."