Author Note: Blatant portraya and Guest #1 I understand your concern and agree with rape being ethically and morally wrong, as every sane human should. This was only meant to be fiction, I didn't plan to accurately portray hypnosis nor did I want to 'glorify', 'put in a good light' or 'eroticiz' rape. An unfortunate experiment into extreme domination led to unethical themes. I have on reflection decided to take the story onto a new direction starting with this addition as chapter one.
Doctor Cullen was dead.
The bullet passed through his skull, his brain turned to paste and the small piece of lead hit the wall of his office behind him. The young Doctor lay limp in his chair. Only a small hole on his head; the giant red spray of blood behind. It covered all framed degrees and dripped slowly down each glass pane.
The clock on his desk beeped, the electronic alarm echoed through the office and the young doctor's body became quickly cold. His black tie was askew on his shirt, his pendulum was swinging loosely from his pocket before the gloved hand grabbed it.
The killer dressed all in black, they had made sure to cover every part of themselves up. Even the eyes were covered by tinted black ski goggles. The killer looked at the pendulum with cold brown eyes from behind his goggles. The killer wanted to crush it, bury it or just burn it.
'Don't be silly,' she'd said, 'hypnosis doesn't work like that'.
The killer checked the clock, did they have time to burn the place they thought?
'Doctor Cullen is nice, he just helps me relax…nothing more,' she said.
He cursed to himself that he hadn't, the secretary, the blonde bimbo would be arriving soon. He put his gun back into his jacket pocket and made for the door.
As he exited out into Forks, he bobbed his head about. Nobody, nobody yet.
'You worry too much,' she said, 'I'm fine.'
He ran for the woods, if anybody saw him, they'd never catch him in the woods. The killer knew them too well to be caught.
Charlie Swan had heard the shot. Even halfway across town, even at the dead of night, he had heard the shot. He had hardly ever had to listen to the sound; not in his town anyway. He laid on his bed, a cold sweat across his brow as he waited. He waited but nothing, quiet. The wind was quiet and the dog that the neighbors owned was silent. Charlie groaned as he pushed the damp sheets away. In the gloom of his room he looked to the bedside phone, his mobile just next to it. The shiny flat thing that Bella had convinced him to get, he shook his head at the memory. Charlie wasn't a man who liked these new shiny, bright stores. Store clerks moved about and talked to you as if they know everything. Most far too young and clever for their own good. Then again at least they were better than the idiots that ran drunk through the streets of Forks.
Charlie had heard the shot, he was sure he had. A clear noise he knew but it didn't seem likely. Before Charlie could think about it anymore, the phone rang and then his mobile. Both loudly ringing as if truth had dropped down the barrel of a bell.