The Pastor's Side Piece

Prologue

I don't even know what time it is anymore. All I know is that whoever placed me in the trunk of this car has been driving for a long while. I'm starting to feel claustrophobic and not knowing what's going on is scaring me. I've never been afraid of the dark, but this darkness is a different thing, something heavy and sinister. I try to get comfortable, as comfortable as I can get with my arms tied behind my back and some sort of gag in my mouth. I can't scream even if I want to.

I can feel every bump in the road as the car tires travel over them. The driver has no consideration for the person being held in their trunk. He or she cuts corners so sharply that I get jostled around like a bag of spilled oranges.

I try to look around to see if I can make out anything familiar, but the blackness only invades my ears and nose, almost smothering me. I feel soreness in my thighs, side, and back from being tossed and smashed around from one side to the next. I don't know where this insane person is taking me. I just know if I make it out of this alive, I'll always sleep with the light on because I'll never view darkness the same again.

Why is this happening to me? I don't have any enemies. Maybe it's a case of mistaken identity and they have the wrong person. That has to be it. I haven't done any wrong to anyone that I can think of. Earlier today, I cut this guy off who was driving a BMW, and he gave me the finger. I understand he was upset, and rightly so, but cutting a person off in traffic wouldn't warrant being blindfolded and thrown in a trunk. I have no way of finding out if I'm in the trunk of a BMW because I can't see anything.

It's taking so long to get to wherever our destination is that I nod off. I awaken abruptly when I feel the car come to stop. I can hear the person open and close the driver door. A few seconds later, when the lid of the trunk opens, I hold up one hand to shield off the brightness from a flashlight. I blink rapidly trying to get my eyes to adjust to the sudden change.

"Get out," the person hisses in a woman's voice. I feel a little less afraid because I know at least that I won't be raped. But who is she and what does she want with me?

I try to wiggle my way out of the trunk but with my hands secured behind my back it's a difficult task. I finally manage to make it to the end. As I'm contemplating a way to maneuver my way out, the woman snatches me by my hair and drags me out. I hit the graveled ground with a thud, landing on my back. She hits me across the back with the flashlight and begins to viciously kick me in my ribs and side. She stomps on my head and kicks me in the face, all the while beating me with the flashlight like it's a baton. I'm trying to scream but any sounds I make are muffled due to the rag in my mouth.

Once she finishes her tirade, she kneels down and stares me in the eye.

"You picked the wrong woman's husband to mess around with, you little harlot." My eyes widen when she holds up her hand and a butcher knife is clutched in her fist. "I'm afraid that the cost of being a preacher's whore will be a very high price you'll have to pay."

I tremble in fear and shake my head from side to side, as trails of tears trickle down my face.

"There's no point in crying now, harlot. Your salty tears won't save you from karma."

She grips the large knife with both hands, raise them up high and brings the weapon down, piercing my abdomen. She continues to stab me over and over so many times that I lose count. After what seems like an eternity, she stops. She removes the gag from my mouth and flips me over onto my stomach to untie my hands. She steps over me, and I lie there on the ground leaking what feels like gallons of blood. I hear the trunk close. A few seconds later, the driver side door slams shut and she drives away. I'm left alone in the dark, to die a slow death.

God, no. God, please don't let me die like this. Please. I don't deserve this.