The night was cold. Too quiet.
Valeria stepped out of the café, humming softly as she locked the door behind her. Her shift had run late, and the streetlamps flickered in the distance, throwing long shadows across the empty road.
She adjusted her scarf, tightening it against the chill, when....
A hand yanked her hair from behind.
"Ah—!"
She stumbled, her scream cut short by another hand covering her mouth. Panic flashed white in her mind.
A black van screeched to a halt beside her. The door flew open. Two masked men pulled her in.
"Let me go!" she fought, her nails raking skin, but one of them slapped her hard across the face. The sound cracked through the air.
Blood filled her mouth.
"Struggle again, and I'll break your jaw," one of them hissed.
A sharp sting followed. A needle. Liquid fire coursed through her veins. The world blurred, then faded to black.
When Valeria opened her eyes, she was tied to a chair in a dim room. Her wrists burned against the coarse rope. The smell of cigarettes, sweat, and alcohol filled the air.
"Finally awake," a deep voice chuckled.
A tall man in a leather jacket stepped forward the gang leader. His eyes were empty, his grin filthy.
He crouched in front of her. "Such a pretty face. Shame to waste it. Maybe we should play a little before business."
He reached out.
Valeria's gaze sharpened.
Before his fingers brushed her skin, she snapped forward and bit him.
"AHH!"
The man's scream tore through the silence. Blood dripped from his hand.
"You b*tch!" Another man stormed forward and slapped her, so hard her head snapped to the side. The chair rattled beneath her. Blood trailed from the corner of her lips, but her eyes still cold, still alive glared back.
"Touch me again," she rasped, "and you'll leave in pieces."
The gang leader though covered in blood because of being bitten by her " Oh is it? Let me see what you do if I touch you now.... You two hold her !"
Valeria tried to scream, to writhe, but the heavy hands pinned her, twisting her arms hard behind the chair. The leader laughed, a sound like glass grinding rock, as he grabbed the hem of her top and tore the fabric away with a single violent rip.
The cold air hit her bare skin, but the coldness was nothing compared to the invasion of his eyes. They were dead, empty, and utterly triumphant as they stripped her of dignity. His hand, the filthy one, reached out.
The violation was absolute. His fingers, rough and reeking of stale alcohol, closed over her, squeezing, exploring. He didn't just touch; he pawed, treating her body like something cheap and disposable, reveling in her helplessness. Valeria gasped, a sound of pure terror and degradation, every nerve screaming in protest.
The gang leader leered. "What nice tits you have.....it's a pity that we have to attend an important business otherwise you would have been fucked by us already, and we know you like it too... Ha Ha. Enjoy this taste, little bitch. Tie her tighter. We'll see how long she will lasts."
They roared with laughter. They had taken her clothes, they had taken her touch, they had taken her control.
One of them pulled out a knife, another a cigarette lighter. The leader leaned close, his breath hot and disgusting against her ear. "We'll make you remember this night for sure."
Valeria was sexually assaulted, humiliated, and cried harder, the tears silent, the degradation absolute. She felt like filth, a piece of trash discarded after being handled by monsters.
But fate had other plans.
Hours passed. The room grew silent. The men, drunk, had left to fetch something from outside. Only one stayed dozing against the wall.
Valeria's fingers twisted, digging into the rope until blood ran down her wrists. She felt the fibers give way slowly, painfully.
The chair creaked. The man stirred.
She froze.
When he slumped back asleep, she moved again. Her eyes caught something glinting under the faint light a rusted metal rod lying near the window.
She dragged the chair inch by inch until the leg brushed the rod. Another push. Another scrape.
Finally contact.
Her fingers brushed metal. She lifted it with trembling hands and began sawing the rope against the edge.
Minutes later, snap.
Her wrists were free.
She didn't breathe. She didn't think. She moved.
The guard stirred, blinking groggily just in time to see the glint of steel before it came down.
A dull crack. Silence.
The body slumped to the floor.
Valeria stood there, shaking, covered in sweat. She picked up the fallen knife from the man's belt. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
Then....
Footsteps.
More men coming.
She crouched behind the door. The handle turned. The first man stepped in, eyes going wide as he saw the body. Before he could shout, Valeria's knife plunged into his side.
He gasped, eyes bulging. She pushed him down, silent. Another came in .....she swung the metal rod.
Bang.
The fight was chaos and blood. By the time the last one fell, Valeria's arms were trembling, her breath ragged.
She stood among the corpses, the rod slipping from her hand with a dull clang.
Her vision blurred. Her knees gave out.
She sank slowly to the floor, her back against the wall. Her hands, her upper body naked and soaked in blood..their blood, but smeared over the skin they had violated trembled uncontrollably.
Her breathing was uneven, her mind blank.
She didn't know what she had done. Didn't know what was real anymore.
Her eyes were open, but empty.
The profound, crushing shame of the sexual assault and the violation of her body was a physical weight, heavier than the bodies she'd killed. She felt she's been lucky that she was not raped but still felt filthy in a way the blood could never wash away.
She sat there, head bowed, blood pooling beneath her knees, as the terrifying silence swallowed the room. She was a broken thing, utterly alone in the wreckage she had created. The horror of the touch was burned into her soul.