Fan Fiction by VTW
|The storage facility was huge. It boasted rows and rows of identical
garages with red painted doors and padlocks. It was like a maze and incredibly
easy to get lost. Peter Manning had rented a huge one, with air-conditioning
and harsh florescent lighting.
He leaned against the wall inside the garage, and smoked a slim, dark cigar. He squinted through the smoke and waited for the girl to regain consciousness. He smiled. She had put up quite a struggle. She was a little spitfire. It was too bad he had to chloroform her. He wanted her alert and wide-awake when he fucked her.
He took one last drag on the cigar, flicking it across the room, and pushed himself away from the wall. He squatted down beside her. Her face was translucent and pale. That lush hair was spread out around her like a halo. It shimmered blue-black fire. Her light breathing drew his eyes to her soft cleavage; the curve of her breast was just visible. Peter flexed his long fingers and ran them down in between her breasts.
He lightly slapped her cheeks. "Come on kitten, time to wake up."
He yanked her up into a sitting position. Her head lolled against his chest as she mumbled incoherently. "I said wake up!" He snapped. He slid his hand around her neck and jerked her chin up with his thumb.
Clarice fluttered her eyes and slowly opened them. She felt a wave of nausea hit her. She moaned slightly as the dull throbbing in her head increased. She focused and stared straight into Peter Manning's cold, ice blue eyes. They were as sharp and piercing as a bird of prey. She shuddered and let out a weak little cry.
Everything came back to her in a rush. She walked into her apartment, and out of nowhere he came at her, knocking her down. She screamed and kicked her way free trying in vain to escape. He was incredibly strong and fast. He lifted her bodily and threw her against the wall, knocking the breath out of her. Her last memory was of him covering her mouth with a white cloth. He obviously used chloroform on her.
Her eyes were dilated in fear. "Who are you?" She whispered.
He looked at her and smiled a dazzling white smile. "I'm Todd's Daddy," he purred.
Clarice shook her head in confusion. "Who's Todd? I know no one by that name," she trembled.
Peter Manning threw his head back and laughed. It echoed throughout the garage eerily. "Why sure you do Clarice. Just who did you think you were fucking all night long?"
Her breath barely escaped her lungs. "I don't know what you're talking about! I was with Thomas. Not this Todd person."
Peter pulled his lip through his teeth. He was enjoying himself immensely. "Oh, it was Todd alright. Thomas Todd, Pete, Tom, Rafael Manning. He has a whole shitload of names, honey. But it's anyone's guess which one of them was doin' you last night. I'd put my money on Pete, though. He appreciates fine pussy, just like I do."
Clarice put a shaking hand to her head. She had no idea what he was talking about.
Peter abruptly released her and rose to his feet. She started up at him cowering. He was easily six feet tall and powerfully built. He had on a tight black shirt with short sleeves. His tan biceps bulged like rocks. His forearms were dusted with white blond hair and were corded and sinewy. He black linen pants did nothing to hide his muscular legs. The man was in excellent physical condition.
He raised an arrogant eyebrow. "I can see that Todd has been less than forthcoming with his past. But trust me, it's mighty interesting." He paused to gauge her reaction. "Ever hear of Llanview, Pennsylvania?"
She shook her head. "No," she whispered with dread. Whatever she heard from this point on was going to be horrible, she knew it.
Peter crossed his arms. "Our boy Todd was a very colorful figure there. He made quite an impact on just about everybody he met." His eyes were alight with venom. "Did you know he was worth about uh upwards of thirty million bucks?"
She shook her head slightly.
"That doesn't surprise me," he sneered. "Todd has lots of secrets. All of them ugly."
"Why are you telling me all of this? Why do you hate your son so much?"
Peter glared and took a threatening step towards her. "I'd shut up, and let me finish my little story if I were you," he whispered. His lips barely moved.
Clarice shuddered in fear and said nothing.
"As I was saying, Todd made enemies with just about everybody back in Llanview. They all hated him," he smirked. "Did he happen to mention he has a criminal record?"
"I don't believe you!" She cried. Thomas was the gentlest person she'd ever met. He was sad, complicated and vulnerable. Yes, but sometimes he's like a different person or people, you know that. Sometimes you've been a little scared. Her mind whispered.
Peter watched the doubt race across her face with delight. He wanted to shatter her illusions. "Trust me Clarice he does, you don't have to take my word for it though." He walked over to a silver briefcase on a small card table in the corner of the garage. He popped the locks and pulled out a thick stack of newspaper clippings.
He strolled over to her and dropped all but a few at her feet. "Read 'em. Then talk to me about your precious Thomas," he rapped out.
She slowly picked up the newspaper clippings. She put a hand to her mouth and stared at the papers. He was accused of murdering a young woman. He held a bunch of people captive, threatening to blow them up. He stood by and let an old man have a heart attack. He kidnapped his baby daughter. He had a child? Tears blinded her. He was in article after article. None of them had anything but horrible things to say. He stalked a blind woman?
She abruptly threw the papers aside. "I don't want to read anymore," she choked out. "All I'm seeing is one side to the story, I want to know Thom Todd's side, because I KNOW HE HAS ONE!" She shouted fiercely. She was not going to believe the worst of him, not yet.
Peter put a hand to his heart. "Your devotion to him is touching," he said slyly. "Truly a thing of beauty, but there's more," he said in a sinister voice.
He dropped the last few pages at her feet. "Go on kitten," he softly said. "You know you're dying to."
She swallowed hard. She glanced down and read, horrified. She felt nausea claw it's way up her throat. He had brutally raped someone. He orchestrated a gang rape of this poor woman. He tried to rape her again and that's how he'd gotten his scar. She saw white spots in front of her eyes. The paper had slipped out of her numb fingers. The man she loved beyond reason was a monster. Clarice slumped on the hard concrete as unconsciousness claimed her once more. The only thing that was heard in the garage was the loud ringing laughter of Peter Thomas Manning.
|To be continued|
Peace and Love,
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