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She lets out a tiny sigh as my hands pull away. Turning around so that she is now just in front of me, face to face, we pause. Our eyes locked on one another. After a moment she I take my hand and brush her hair to the side, then lean in. Her lips are sweet from the wine and soft as the satin she is wearing. We kiss long slow and gently then I pull away. She looks to be in shock but doesn’t move back. I stand there waiting for her to say or do something, but she is frozen. Finally, breaking the silence, I say “you know, perhaps we could keep each other company tonight while the boys are away…” taking her hand in mine, I interlace our fingers and begin to kiss each finger slowly. She lets out another soft sigh as she slowly lets her other hand begin to explore my satin covered curves. Her hand coming up slowly up my thigh and over my hips to rest at the waist. She leans in and we begin kissing softly at first as she eases into this new, unexpected, encounter. Before long she and I are. Dying.I heard the Painter let out several loud grunts. Then he said, "Now, this is the best part." Moments later, Madeline began to gurgle.My legs still worked. My hips still worked. He hadn't broken me there yet. A small shift of my hips. A roll. Then a sharp upward kick, right there between his legs.My heel struck something hard. A cup? He laughed and swung at me knee. A glancing blow. I rolled. "Fucking bitch!"I rolled more, over my shoulder and onto my feet. I stood and glanced around. The Painter was done raping Madeline. He squatted – his veiny dick hung loose – with Madeline between his legs and pulled the belt tight. She was shuddering, convulsing, turning blue. With such small hands, she tried to get her fingers between the belt and her crushed throat. It was useless.Sara wasn't moving at all. There was a lot of blood."What's happening?" I heard the Professor ask.The Mechanic came at me. His hammer swung. I hurtled backward, right into the Painter and Madeline. The Painter.
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