Predator In The Storm

This story is one of the creepiest experiences I've had with dating. The guy kind of looked like John Travolta, but blonder. He had the same eyes, the same dimple in the chin, a similar voice even. It was uncanny. I met him on the Internet. He was really funny on the phone. I mean funny in a good way. I laughed hysterically every time we talked. He was a few years younger than me and I wasn't too thrilled about that at the time as I was only 27 and 23 just seemed immature to me.

He kept insisting he just wanted to come "hang out" at my place. I kept insisting that he had to take me on a date. I was getting tired of all of the guys who just wanted to come "hang out". It was like taking the easy way out. I would have to entertain and accommodate and they could just take off when they'd had enough without having to make any sort of effort.

HOWEVER, on this particular night I was in totally casual mode. I wasn't much into the idea of going out anyway. I just wanted to kick back myself. Besides, a storm was blowing in and if he was as great in person as he was over the phone, I wouldn't mind being trapped in a storm with him.

He arrived around 5:30 PM. I opened the door for him and looked up into the sky. It was completely gray, the promising smell of fresh rain on its way filled my lungs. I smiled when I saw him. He was so John Travolta. He even had the same smile. It was irresistible.

"Hey you", he said, taking a casual stance.

"Hey", I giggled. "Come in".

He followed me to the family room and I invited him to take a seat. It was still light enough outside, making indoor lighting unnecessary just yet. I had the blinds open and we both sat there with a front row seat to the incoming storm. I couldn't have asked for a better stage set.

The conversation flowed as easily as it had over the phone. As the minutes passed, the trees outside began to blow harder and the low rumble of thunder was rolling its way in our direction. Intermittent flashes of light danced across the blackening sky.

"We should kiss", he said.

I scrunched up my nose and squinted my eyes at him. "Let's talk. Talking is good".

"Why don't you want to kiss?" He said, leaning in closer and rubbing his hand on my knee. I wasn't sure how I felt about this. I wasn't sure why I suddenly felt uneasy. He was cute, he was funny, and I enjoyed talking to him, but this sudden request and his advances upon me were playing negatively upon my mood. Looking back, I think it must have been my inner voice, but I very irresponsibly brushed it off at the time.

"So", I made a quick attempt at subject change. "Tell me about your life. What do you do with yourself all day?" I began the interrogation.

Seductively raising his eyebrow at me, he slithered in closer. "I think about kissing you."

"Seriously", I warned.

He heaved a sigh and sat back hard against the sofa. "Well, you're no fun", he whined.

"Oh, I'm lots of fun. We don't have to make out to have fun", I reprimanded.

"Whatever." He continued his complaint. "I didn't say make out. I said kiss. You're the one that wants to make out."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, are you going to be immature because I'm seriously not interested. This is exactly why I hesitate with younger guys." My shrinking violet days were over. I had finally learned a lesson or two.

"No. No. I'm not going to be immature". He chuckled. "Okay, what do you want to know about me?"

And thus began a very telling conversation. Little by little, I picked his brain and the dirty laundry began to air itself out right there in my front room. He had "messed up", he said. "Like, what do you mean 'messed up'?" I pressed.

"I have this problem keeping my hands off of women. I'm what you might call aggressive". He grinned at me, but this was no longer a cute little, dimpled chin, John Travolta thing going on.

I suddenly took note of how dark the room was. "I should turn some lights on. It's getting dark in here". I jumped up and headed across the room to the switch.

"Don't turn on the lights", he whined.

"Why not?" I asked, now feeling my way along the wall for the switch.

"'Cause, I don't like 'em, that's why," he replied in a half whiny, half attempt at seduction tone.

"Why don't you like them?" I continued, still feeling clumsily along the wall. Where was that dang switch? My palms were becoming sweaty. I was slightly flustered and extremely frustrated. "There!" I called out. I smacked the light on, victorious.

"Awww", he blurted out in disgust.

BOOM! The thunder seemed to shout out its disapproval and the room went dark. Everything fell silent.

My heart started to pound a little harder in my chest. I could feel the perspiration starting up in its usual nerve-triggered regions of my body. "Wow", I blurted out. My voice slightly cracked. "I guess we lost the power".

"Mmm hmmm", I suddenly felt his warm breath on my neck.

I shuddered with a chill. "Whoa! What are you doing?" I couldn't see a thing. The room was pitch black. I could only feel the warmth of his body closing in around me.

"Hey there", he said in a seductive, slithery tone.

"Okay, go sit down", I ordered.

He touched his hands on my shoulders. "Why do you want me to sit down?" he asked, the slimy suspicion slithering around me, binding me tighter like a small, helpless creature in a spider's web.

"I just want you to sit down." The crack of my voice betrayed me.

"I can't", he whispered, breathing harder on my neck and into my ear, binding me in his encircling arms.

I tried to swallow, but the lump in my throat made it difficult. I couldn't think straight. My head was spinning.

"I have a problem", he continued to whisper, his breath tickling through my ear canal and deep into my head.

"What do you mean you have a problem?" I said, trying to sound annoyed. I began to push my arms against him, but he wouldn't budge. "Seriously, you need to let go of me right now."

"I told you. I can't. I have a problem", he reminded me.

My breathing was heavy now, my palms and soles cold and sweaty. "I'll scream", I threatened.

"Don't scream", he sniveled.

I began to whimper. "Don't do anything to me. You better not do anything to me".

"I don't think I can help myself", he whispered.

I attempted to beat my arms against him, to break free of his bonds, but he closed in on me tighter. I tried to scream, but he pushed me against the wall, pushing his lips hard against mine. I continued my weak attempt at fighting him off with my arms. My upper body has always been the weaker half. In desperation I kicked my knee up into his groin.

"AAahhhh!!" He shouted and doubled over. I slapped my hand against the wall and began to run away from him, feeling my way along the border of my condo. Suddenly the wall was gone and I slapped my hand down on the counter top. I ran my hand along its perimeter until I reached drawers. I felt along the first drawer, the second...

"Where are you? Why did you do that to me? Don't hurt me?" He cried out. "I"m not going to hurt you. Where are you? Come back?" He continued to whimper and beg.

"NO!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. STAY AWAY FROM ME!" I felt along the third drawer and then the fourth. This was the one. I threw it open and carefully reached my hand in blindly. This was the knife drawer. The sharpest, largest knives I owned.

"I have a knife", I screamed. My voice beginning to go hoarse. "I have a knife and I'll stab your heart out with it, you creep!"

There was no sound. Just silence. I could see nothing. The storm was violent above us. I've never felt so vulnerable in my life.

"Where are you?", I growled. No response. I moved my eyes about, but the darkness won. I held my hand up in front of my face. Nothing. I could see nothing. My breathing was heavy. I could hear the throbbing of my beating heart in my ears.

"I'm not going to hurt you", I heard the whisper, stinging at my flesh like needles.

"Gaaahhhh!" I waved the butcher knife wildly in front of me. "I have a knife! I'm not kidding!"

"I can't help myself. I told you." He continued.

I fell to my knees and crawled to the corner of the kitchen, huddling and holding the knife high in front of me. I closed my eyes and held my breath, praying a silent prayer. "Please help me", I screamed in my head.

Click. The lights flew on. He stood a few feet from me. "There you are", he flashed a grin. "What are you doing? Calm down."

"Get away from me", I growled through gritted teeth. "I swear I'll kill you".

He hesitated for a moment, assessing the situation, then threw his hands up and began to back off. "Okay. Okay. Calm down".

I stood up and walked toward him, knife still raised. He continued to back out of the kitchen and toward the family room.

"NO!" I growled. "The other way. To the front door. NOW!"

"Okay. Okay." His hands still raised, he continued to back up toward the door.

"Now turn around and open it and get out!" I ordered.

"You're not gonna' stab me, are you?" His eyes suddenly widened, the lump in his throat bobbing up and down.

"Not if you leave", I growled.

And he left. And I slammed the door, double locked it, fell against it, slid to the ground and lay in a heap, shaking and bawling. It was over. He was gone. I was safe.