Revenge

*Reader warning: This story deals with topics which are very disturbing to many people such as abduction, rape, and revenge. It is graphic but not gratuitously so. I've kept such details to a bare minimum, but one can't write about such topics—topics which unfortunately do happen to very real people—in any pleasant sort of way.

It is primarily a love story, but one in which love is arrived at in a very unorthodox, undesirable, and tragic way.

******

"Can I get you another one?" the bartender asked her.

She wasn't paying attention to him. Her eyes were focused on the television screen behind him. "Could you turn that up, please?" she asked.

He knew it would piss off a few other customers, but she was really cute, so what the hell. He punched the volume up 4-5 clicks.

"So on behalf of the city of Portland, it is my pleasure to present you with the city's highest award." The mayor placed a blue ribbon with a gold medal around the man's neck then shook his hand. The headline at the bottom of the screen read, "Mayor awards Dennis McEvoy for exemplary work helping city youth."

The bartender had turned around to watch and without turning back toward her said, "That's a nasty scar," commenting on the three-inch cut in McEvoy's upper right cheek.

"Can you please be quiet?" she said sharply as she closed her eyes when McEvoy began to speak.

She listened for a few seconds then said almost under her breath as her body began to tremble, "Oh, my God. That's him."

"You know this guy or something?" he asked her. Not hearing an answer, he turned around to she if she'd heard him, but young woman was gone.

Jensyn Taylor had just turned 24 and her last encounter with the man she now knew as Dennis McEvoy had been a little over two months ago. She'd had no idea what he looked like or what his name was, but he'd held her captive for over four months, brutally raping and torturing her day in and day out.

It wasn't just McEvoy, though. There were three other men who were often either with him or who came by themselves. She later learned all of them wore masks and capes and the ritual was always the same. Other than during the ritual itself, Jensyn was kept naked, bound hand and foot, and blindfolded at all times. She was fed twice a day being forced to eat and drink like a dog unable to use her hands. She was kept next to a toilet and able to use it as needed. Properly cleaning herself afterward was another matter altogether. Before each 'session' someone led her to a shower when she was washed and dried before being taken to what felt like a barber chair where she was laid back and her hair shampooed and blown dry.

From there she was led into what she believed was an adjoining room and strapped down to another table, her arms and legs splayed out exposing her to her captives. Shortly after, she would hear their voices and the laughter. At some point what sounded like long shafts being banged on the floor began tapping in unison as the men began to chant. The banging and the chanting grew louder until a final three hard taps rang out followed by a temporary silence.

"I believe I'm first tonight," one of them would say. Jensyn's body would tense in anticipation of what was to come and she would kick and flail and struggle but to no avail as first one and then another brutally assaulted and raped her over and over again. All of them came inside of her, grunting loudly and mocking her as they did so.

She knew no names or faces, but she knew their voices; voices she would never forget. The man she now knew as McEvoy had been their leader. He was often referred to as 'The Great One' or 'Your Highness' while the others had less flattering names like 'Driller', 'Bug Boy', and 'Sarge.'

At some point, another captive was brought in but she was never kept with Jensyn. She was however, laid on a table near her during the ritual, and the same horrible things were done to her. Jensyn stopped screaming after the first month and had made peace with her belief she would either die of some disease or they would simply kill her when they grew tired of her.

The hardest part was listening to this new girl crying, screaming, and begging for them to stop as she had done early on as they mocked and taunted her saying things like, "Oh, look! She misses her mommy. Isn't that sweet?" and many other horrible things too disgusting to think about.

And now she knew who one of them was. She knew because he, or one of his accomplices, had made a terrible mistake one day. After having their way with Jensyn, they released her bonds then seemed to get distracted by something involving the other girl. Sensing they might not be watching, she sat up and pulled the mask off her face. All of the men were standing around the other girl and even though she hadn't even walked since been taken captive, she knew she had to run. The lights were off and the only source of illumination were candles placed in a circle around the two tables and a lone exit sign over a door in what was a garage of some sort in downtown Portland, Oregon.

As she slid off the table, she saw what she later learned were their capes hanging on hooks attached to the wall, capes the men evidently wore during part of the ritual. Being utterly naked, she grabbed one of them and as she did, the man she now knew as McEvoy saw her. "Hey!" he hollered. He, like the other men, was wearing a mask, but the voice was unmistakeable.

Instinctively, she reached for a weapon of some kind and the only thing available was the glass surrounding each of the candles around the tables. Knowing she would burn her hand made no difference as she reached for one of them. The burn still startled her causing her to lose her grip just enough that the glass shattered leaving just a long shard in her hard. As McEvoy came at her she whirled around and swung her arm viciously. He pulled back avoiding the worst of the blow but not far enough to avoid the sharp edge altogether. A deep, three-inch gash was the result and blood poured from his face. It was close enough to his eye that he thought for several seconds she'd hit it, too, and that was just enough time for her to put distance between them.

Only then did McEvoy's screams drown out the din created by the other girl and the men surrounding her who'd been loudly taunting and ravaging her. The loud voices masked Jensyn's exit until she got close to the door. As she pushed, the other men all turned in unison and hollered out, "The bitch is running!"

As she exited the shop, she entered another large building and had to run across it in nearly total darkness. As she closed in on the door on the other side of that shop, she heard the men enter and scream at her. "Fucking STOP, bitch, or I'll kill you!"

Jensyn wasn't stopping. If they killed her, they killed her, but she wasn't stopping. Just as she reached the other door, a shot rang out and something loud cracked just over head. She later assumed it was a round hitting the door just above her as she shoved it opened.

The sunlight was blinding as she found herself on a street with virtually no traffic and no pedestrians. Squinting hard, she quickly looked in both directions and began to run. Her lungs were on fire and she was weak from malnutrition and dehydration, but she refused to slow down. Behind her, she saw two men giving chase and that's when she saw her chance to escape. A trash truck was maybe 50 yards ahead of her and after making one stop, got ready to take off down the street where no more cans were set out. Jensyn willed herself to sprint and just as it lurched forward, she grabbed the iron bar in the back and pulled herself onto a platform normally used by the second man on the truck.

As it roared down the street, she gasped for breath as the two men stopped running. Were she not still afraid for her life, she might have laughed when she noticed they were as naked as her wearing nothing whatsoever but their black masks.

She rode for many blocks before finally hopping off once she got to a part of town she recognized and where she had a friend who lived nearby. She wrapped the cape around her body and walked as quickly as she could another two blocks. When she arrived at her friend's place, she began knocking loudly and furiously.

"Jensyn? Is that you?" her friend Emma said when she opened the door. "Oh, my God! Get in here." She closed the door and said, "Jesus! What's happened to you? Where have you been? Are you all right? You look awful. My God...you're so emaciated!"

Jensyn didn't feel like talking about it. "I'll explain later, Em. Can I just take a shower? Please?"

Her friend led her to the bathroom asking questions the entire time. She showed her where the clean towels were then asked, "You must be starving. What can I get you?"

"Anything," she told her. "I don't care what it is. I just need food and something to drink."

She dropped the cape and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was rail thin. She stood on her toes after moving back and realized her ribs were showing. She was still scared, but she was alive and otherwise felt reasonably healthy.

She stayed under the hot water until it turned cold having soaped up and rinsed off a half-dozen times as though that might somehow remove the shame and guilt and pain she felt. After drying off, she wrapped a towel around her tiny body and tied one off around her head to hold her wet hair.

"Here. I brought you some clean clothes. They'll be baggy on you, but they'll be warm."

Jensyn thanked her then dressed quickly then sat down to eat. It was just a sandwich, some chips, and a glass of milk, but it looked better than anything she'd ever had in her life and was gone in less than three minutes.

"Do you want more, sweetie?" her friend asked as she was trying to chew the enormous handful of chips she'd shoved into her mouth. Jensyn nodded as she gulped the milk to wash it down.

"So what in God's name happened to you? Where have you been all this time?" Emma asked as she made her something else to eat.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said as she tore into the next round of food.

"Jensyn, if something illegal happened, if someone did this to you, you have to go to the police! My God, the police have been looking for you since the day after you went missing. They've been here three different times asking me questions."

"No, I don't," she said with a mouthful of food. "I don't have to go to the police and I don't need to talk about it. Listen, I truly appreciate your help, but I'm fine. Well, I will be. Let's...can we just leave it alone? Please?"

Her friend wasn't happy, but she did leave it alone. At least for the time being.

Four months ago, Jensyn left work and realized she needed cash. She rode public transit to and from work so she had to walk to her bank which was maybe a block from work. She stopped at the ATM out front and withdrew a hundred dollars then headed back toward the bus stop. The area wasn't abandoned by any means, but there very few pedestrians or cars on that particular street.

She wasn't paying attention to traffic and never really saw it coming. At one point, a van slowed, pulled over, and before she knew what was happening, someone wearing a black ski mask jumped out, put a hand over her mouth, and dragged her into the van. She remembered smelling something for a fraction of a second before her world went dark. When she awoke, she was bound, naked, and blindfolded.

"Do you have a place to stay?" her friend asked.

"I don't know. I haven't paid rent for four months so I'm sure my apartment is gone. Can I stay with you for a while?"

"Yeah, sure. But if you're in trouble with the law, you have to tell me."

"I'm not in trouble," she said. "I didn't do anything wrong."

Physically, Jensyn was weak and frail, but mentally she was more alert and aware than she'd ever been before. Her mind was now free to recall everything that had happened to her and it willed her to see those events coldly and rationally. Revenge became the driving force in life—the fuel that pushed her to keep living.

She had no idea who those men were but she vowed to find out. She also vowed the police would never learn any details of what had happened unless they could somehow help her exact revenge in an up-close and personal way. One day, at some point she'd learn the identity of one of her tormentors. She had no idea how or when it would happen, but she knew it would. And when it did happen, she would be ready. Mentally, physically, and emotionally, she would be ready.

Her physical strength returned slowly and gradually over the next several days. She was afraid to go outside and walk, so she did laps in Emma's small back yard. She climbed the four steps on the back porch dozens of times a day starting with one or two difficult attempts. She lifted small objects and then heavier ones inside the house adding more resistance as the days ticked by.

After a month, she knew she could no longer sponge off of her friend and she knew she would have to find a new job and a place to live. She also knew that entailed talking to the police because as soon as anything with her name or social security number on it was entered into the system, they would come calling. But that didn't mean she had to provide details.

Emma drove her to the Portland Police station several blocks away and went inside with her. They stopped at the front desk where Jensyn said, "My name is Jensyn Taylor and I went missing five months ago."

The desk sergeant's facial expression changed immediately. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. It is you." Jensyn had put nearly five pounds back on but was still much thinner than she had been. "Hold on, Ms. Taylor." The sergeant picked up a phone and in less than a minute an officer in plain clothes introduced himself.

"Ms. Taylor, I'm Detective Dawson. I've been working your case since we learned you were missing. Can you please come with me?"

On the way to his office Emma grabbed her arm and said, "Oh, my God! He is to-die-for gorgeous!"

Jensyn rolled her eyes and said very quietly, "I have no interest in men. Unless it's the ones who kidnapped me. I'm very interested in them."

He opened the door and asked, "Can I get you ladies anything?"

Jensyn managed a smile and told him, "If you guys really do have donuts, I'd love one. Or two. Oh, and some coffee, please."

"Coming right up. Ma'am? Anything for you?" he asked Emma.

"You're not wearing a ring so how about your phone number?"

Jensyn elbowed her and the detective just smiled. "I'm afraid coffee is the best I can unless you'd also like a donut."

"Fine. I guess I'll have a cup of coffee. Cream and two sugars, please. Or you can just stir it with your finger."

He came back with the goodies then said, "Do you mind having your friend in here, Ms. Taylor?"

"No, she can stay and please call me Jensyn, detective."

"Sure. That's a rather unusual name."

"My mother's maiden name was Jensen so my parents got a bit creative with the spelling and...whump der it iz," she said gesticulating like a rapper with her hands and fingers as she used the word from a well-known hip-hop song from the past.

The detective laughed at her sense of humor then began asking questions.

Jensyn relayed everything that happened to include her escape, but left out the location as well as how she'd cut one of their faces. "No, I don't have any idea where I was, detective. I hadn't seen the light of day in four months. I was weak and dehydrated. I still don't know how I got away."

"I know this won't make any sense at this point, but we'd like to have our in-house doctor and a female officer examine you. Would you consent to that?"

"Yeah, sure. Why not?" she said wanting to be cooperative to avoid arousing undue suspicion.

When it was over the detective gave Jensyn his card with his phone number and let her know she was no longer on the missing persons list. "Within 48 hours you should have access to bank accounts and be able to apply for a job. If not, call me and I'll personally take care of it."

"Does that offer extend to me too, detective?" Emma said unwilling to give up.

"Sorry, ma'am. But if you're ever kidnapped and held for several months...." He looked at Jensyn and said, "My apologies. That was very unprofessional."

"No offense taken. Someone needs to make my friend understand she's embarrassing herself here...along with me."

"What? Are you saying a hottie like this detective wouldn't be interested in someone like me?"

Emma was cute but not beautiful. She was also 24 and at 5'9" rather tall for a women but at 105 pounds, also very thin. She had a reasonably pretty face along with what was sometimes called a 'sunken chest.' Some men found that very attractive; most did not.

Jensyn, on the other hand, at least when she was at her normal body weight, was a very attractive woman. She was 5'7", normally 115 pounds, had very nice full B or small C breasts, long, pretty, very dark hair, and an amazing smile. She'd had no shortage of boyfriends over the years, but for now the last thing she could imagine was having sex with someone—even a man as attractive as Detective Dawson. Perhaps one day that interest would return, but it seemed to her that wouldn't and couldn't happen until she'd exacted revenge on the animals who'd done this to her. Even then, she wasn't sure she could ever love or be loved again.

She took the detective's card, thanked him, and told him she'd stay in touch. That had been a little over two months ago and since then Jensyn had been welcomed back to her old job and with some help from a very persuasive detective, gotten a new apartment in her old complex in spite of having been formally evicted from her original place.

The first time she'd felt confident enough to walk across the street to have a drink at a very familiar bar, she saw him on TV and thought she'd throw up. A few minutes later, back at her apartment, she knew she not only wouldn't throw up, she knew she'd find him and when she did, she'd kill him.

"Detective Dawson? Hi, this is Jensyn Taylor, your formerly missing person."

"I remember you, Ms. Taylor. I never forget a face. Especially one as pretty as.... Sorry, what can I do you for?"

"Do you know anyone in the mayor's office, by chance?"

Jensyn called his point of contact and said she was so moved by that 'nice man who helped those children' she felt she just had to get in touch with him.

"You mean Mr. McEvoy?"

Jensyn bristled at the sound of his name but said, "Yes. That's the one. The man with the scar on his face."

"It's actually kind of sexy, don't you think?" the other woman said. Jensyn didn't respond so the woman moved on. "I can't give out personal information, but I could take you number and pass it on to him."

"Oh, that's such a shame! I represent a group that wants to thank him and we would love for it to be a surprise. Is there any way you could help me out? You know, for the sake of 'the sisterhood' and all that?"

"I shouldn't tell you this, but I suppose it's public record. He sells commercial real estate. That's how he was able to find such a great location for our new Boy's Club. That's really I can tell you, though."

"That's fine. You've been very helpful."

A quick Google search found one William McEvoy in a few seconds and she now had a location where he worked and a business telephone number. Coupled with the plan she was formulating, the possibility of revenge was now becoming very real.

Another quick search, this one of his property listings, sent a chill through Jensyn's body. The building, or rather complex of buildings, where she'd been held captive, was for sale. Google maps showed her the building in context with the surrounding area and she immediately realized why that particular location had been chosen. There was virtually nothing but empty or abandoned buildings in all directions for two full blocks and no traffic passed through it.