hell, don't go all bubbly with joy or anything.
you slay me, claire. honest.
won't happen again, ma'am. she turns and exits. the doors slide shut. meet our rapist.
this is gonna hurt you more than it hurts me. she flails and kicks desperately but he pins her down. the bedsprings strain violently and now he's straddling her, squeezing the plunger into her throat. her eyes welling up:
i've always wanted to do a doctor. she manages to free one hand and yanks the syringe from her throat. it flies to the floor. he grins, enjoying this:
the more you fight me, the harder i get, pussycat -- so pretty please, with sugar on top -- keep still. simon paws at her clothes as she struggles to defend herself. he finally slaps her free arm down. presses his knee against it, immobilizing her once more. now he produces another syringe from his pocket. checks it. miranda shakes her head, pleading. a scream stuck in her throat. but nobody can hear her. simon brings the syringe towards her when suddenly we hear a loud clanging at the door. shaking it off its hinges.