Silence of the Geisha Horror: Yukis Revenge (5 page)

She could feel that he was holding all of himself back, that he wouldn’t let go until she submitted. And in the haze of pain, and torture, she didn’t care about pride. “Please... come in me. Please, Buck.”

He let out a roar and all of his motion stopped as he rammed into Yuki one last time and held her in place. She could feel him coating the inside of her, but the small woman couldn’t help but feel relief that this round was over.

When he finally finished filling her with his seed, he let her go and straightened. She rolled off the desk and let herself fall to the forest floor.

Time did that funny thing again as Thomas hauled her up and took his turn. At this point, she could hardly feel any of the assault. She knew it was shock, and that she was sure to feel all the trauma should they let her live through their ministrations, but she didn't quite care at the moment. It was a nice reprieve from the horror.

Somehow she made it through Thomas' round, and the two goaded Jean-Luc to batter up, but he seemed to have a little technical difficulty. The two mocked him relentlessly while Yuki merely hung against the edge of the trunk, her head and arms inside the car, and her knees dragging against the wet ground.

Finally, when it was apparent that the Frenchman was not going to be able to give a round two, Buck roughly tied her up again and threw her into the trunk. The last thing she saw was him spitting down at her, before the lid slammed closed.

*

Percentage of
rapists who are never incarcerated
: 97 percent.

Consciousness didn't slowly warm Yuki like a comforting blanket. Instead, it slammed into her with the force of a semi-truck, nearly inundating her brain with information and pain.

Her ribs hurt. Her hand hurt. Her head hurt. She couldn't move her jaw. Everything was a cacophony of torment. And for some reason her left ankle was throbbing insistently.

She tried to open an eye, but one was swollen completely shut while the other could barely open a slit. She was in a small space, and it was dark. Where was...oh yeah. The trunk. They had shoved her into it.

But why did her ankle hurt?

It took all of her strength, but she managed to tilt her head towards the pain. To her utter shock, she realized that her foot was hanging out of the trunk. In their utter callousness to put her away like some sort of defective toy, they hadn't even checked to make sure she was completely in the trunk. Did they think her stupid? Did they think her so weak, and subservient, that she would just stay in their trap like a good girl?

Rage flowed through her anew, mixing with the fear and adrenaline that had been pumping through her body when she was last conscious. How
dare
they. How
dare
they!

Somehow, she found the strength to turn her body. Then to extend her trembling arm. And then, slowly, agonizingly, pulling her beaten body towards the small sliver of freedom.

Finally, her hand touched the cool, night air. It was just the promise of strength she needed, and she mustered the wherewithal to lift the hatch enough to push her upper body out of the trunk. She toppled to the cold, damp earth, and the impact drove all the breath from her body. Yuki laid there, gasping, while her mind tried to catch up.

It was still dark, with no hint of sunrise in the sky, so she couldn't have been out long. She was not bleeding anymore, so exsanguination was probably not a threat. If anything, she had to worried about shock, internal injuries or succumbing to exposure if the night got much colder.

Oh, and her attackers returning for another round of their assault.

That spurred Yuki to pick herself up from the damp, cold earth. Like a corpse rising from the dead, she grabbed onto the edge of the car and pulled herself up. She got to her knees, and allowed herself a rest. Her whole body was trembling, clamoring for her to just lay down and give up. She wanted rest. She wanted peace.

But she couldn't stop.

She took a deep breath, and forced herself onto her feet. Her damaged ankle screamed in objection, but she tucked that away and pushed on. This was just another test she had to pass. Another challenge to defeat.

She had to survive.

Finally, she was on her feet, and she let out a desperate, giddy laugh before suddenly remembering that her attackers could be anywhere. She nearly choked on the sound, and focused. She needed to be aware of her surroundings. She needed to find an escape.

She gripped the spoiler at the butt of the car and looked around. Her heart almost shattered when she saw the unmistakable outline of Buck's shoulders in the front. She froze, waiting for the inevitable end as he saw her in the rear view mirror.

But nothing happened.

Was he toying with her?

Tentatively, she used the support of the car to slowly, agonizingly slowly, to move around to the side of the car. Still nothing. Heart now drumming like a full percussion line, she slid/walked to the driver's door, trailing streaks of red and muddy brown in her wake.

Finally, she reached his door, and it took all of her will to look directly at his profile. This was the moment when he broke whatever twisted game he was playing, and looked at her. This was the moment she met her end. This was...

He was
asleep!?!

For a moment she stood there, incredulous. How could he rape her, torture her, film it like a sadistic bastard and then
fall asleep
at the scene of the crime? Was he an idiot? Or was he just so arrogant, and assured of his utter infallibility?

Yuki liked to think of herself as a practical, hardworking, intelligent woman. But in that moment, she became a creature of pure hate, and frenzied malice. She threw open the door and yanked the massive man out of his seat.

“What, Jean Luc? Yuki!?” He sputtered in shock, trying to wake up as she threw him to the ground.

She gave him no heed and slid into the drivers seat. Of course he left the keys in the ignition. What an arrogant, delusional prat.

She didn't even bother to shut the door before igniting the engine and peeling off. She could see Buck scramble to his feet and try to chase after her, but she was gone. Long gone.

For a brief moment she contemplated reversing and dragging his carcass across the forest floor, but she knew survival was her first priority. Survival trumped all.

Pressing her foot down on the pedal, she sped towards the closest hospital. She contemplated going to one she didn't do her rotations at, so none of her colleagues or fellow students would find out, but she didn't have the time. She was well aware that she was running off shock and adrenaline. Very soon those would give out, and she would most likely lose consciousness again. She was also aware that she could succumb to her injuries well before she reached any sort of medical facilities.

She made the gamble.

By some miracle, she hit no traffic jams, or construction or any other hang ups. It was almost as if fate was trying to say sorry for the hell it put her through. But fortune, fate or luck, she peeled into the ER lot and practically tumbled onto the ground as soon as she opened the car door.

“Ma'am you can't park he-Ma'am, are you okay?”

“I've been raped,” She managed to wheeze between bloody lips. “I...I stole his car.”

The hospital aide didn't listen to her. “Don't worry, ma'am. We'll take care of you. I need some EMTs out here, STAT. I have a woman, on the ground, and she's pretty battered.”

Suddenly the person was kneeling beside her. He didn't try to move her, which was good protocol on his part. But he did slip he large, warm hand around her non-bruised one. “It's okay. They're gonna be here any second, and they're gonna get you to a doctor. Can you tell me your name?”

“Yuki Kobayashi. I do my rotations here. I'm a third year med student”

“You do? And you are?”

“Uh-huh,” She wheezed. She needed to focus on the talking. On his face. Distract herself as the comforting effects of shock fell away.

“Oh, well then do you have a doctor you'd prefer to see? You got any favorites yet?”

“Not really. But...Harrison's kinda a dick.”

“Gotcha. So no Harrison. How about Rivera?”

“Yeah...Rivera's good.”

“Awesome. Oh look, they're coming. You know what happens from here, right?”

“'Fraid so.”

“Alright, you be safe Yuki. I'll visit you once you're admitted.”

“What was your name?”

“Dwayne.”

“See ya later Dwayne.”

And then she was swarmed by medical professionals as they swept her up and got her on a stretcher. Finally, Yuki let myself give in to the darkness at the edges of her mind.

She was safe.

For now.

Intellectually speaking, Yuki knew exactly what was going to happen to her. She had taken the tests, studies the protocol. Even assisted by running labs and working clean up.

But actually living the nightmare? That was an entirely different story.

She had woken up in a standard hospital room. After a few brief seconds of panic, she realized it was the third time she had roused in a place that was not her home. Not her bed. She abruptly understood why so many victims begged to be able to go back home. After her trauma, she was aching for the comfort of familiarity. Of a safe haven that the clutches of her trauma could not reached.

“Yuki?”

Blearily, she turned her head to her door to see one of her fellow students at the door. It was Mandy, a pleasantly plump blond who was thinking of specializing in pediatrics. I liked her just fine, but we weren't exactly close.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“I was working in the pits when you came in. Are...are you okay? Do you want some company while you wait for...?”

“Wait for them to cart me off for a bunch of tests that are the last thing that I want?”

“
Sometimes it sucks having the inside scoop, huh.”

“You can say that again.” I tried to smile, but she felt a tug at her cheek. “Stitches?” She asked.

“A few yeah. But mostly just spot bandaging and glue from what I see. I don't think anything will scar.”

“Great. Every time I relieve this trauma, I can always be grateful I still have my pretty face. Because that's what's important.”

“Sorry, poor choice of words.”

“It's alright. The sarcasm felt good though. You wanna come have a seat? I promise I won't bite....I don't think I can bite, actually.”

“Yeah sure.”

She came into the room, and settled down. The two of us settled into a comfortable sort of silence with the occasional question or conversation. It was

nice, and expectation-less, and the calm before the store I was about to endure.

But then it was time.

“Are you ready for your tests?” A nurse at the door questioned. Mandy shot me a regretful look, and excused herself.

“By all means, take me to the party.”

Post-rape examinations were awful. Every med student knew that much. It always started with the doctor or nurse asking questions about the victim's general health. If the victim was female, she would be asked about her menstrual history and her use of contraception. Yuki was luckily enough to have gotten the three year implant several months earlier. So at least she was most likely safe on that front.

Then she would have to answer a millions questions about the assault. It was going to be difficult to recall some of the details considering the trauma and violence she had experienced, and it could possibly trigger an emotional breakdown to discuss what had happened. Yuki knew this. She had studied it. But now it was her reality. And it wasn't like they could just...
not
as her. The medical personnel needed the date to find out what to look for when they examine her and provide thorough medical care.

Then the doctor or nurse would look for injuries and all the other indicators that extreme force had been used. And then they would ask consent to photograph the injuries. It would be invasive, and awful, but it was solid evidence that was necessary. Documenting all of the repercussion of their vile is important because by the time your assailant is prosecuted in a court hearing, the injuries may have healed.

In addition to checking her for injuries, the doctor or nurse would collect other evidence of the sexual assault. Depending on the types of sexual contact that occurred, the search for physical evidence may include taking samples from the vagina, mouth, or rectum to test for sperm cells and semen. Other evidence may be obtained from fingernail scrapings, foreign matter on her body like the mud and dirt. And since she was in a hospital gown from being admitted, she could assume that they had already taken her dress.

And then she would have to explain the whole entire thing again to the police officers that would show up towards the end of it. She would need to get used to telling the story too. Because after the police officers took her statement, she would be released to recoup and recover. Then she would have to go down to the station and give her statement again. Then, eventually at the trial, she would have to retell and retell her story again while rich men in suits tried to pick apart her every word to prove her a liar.

The rape may have been over, but its effects were just beginning.

*

The FBI’s definition of “forcible rape” in their Uniform Crime Report (UCR): "The carnal knowledge of a woman forcibly and against her will.

Yuki stared up at the ceiling of the examination room. She was cold, and anxious, and the pain meds were just beginning to wear off. She knew in the back of her mind that that was a good thing, that masking the pain would make evaluation of her injuries less accurate, but she didn't care. She just wanted to give into the drug-born haze and sleep. Escape her reality for even just a little bit.

There was a knock at the door and both Rivera and a nurse came in.

“Yuki.” He stated flatly.

“Dr. Rivera.”

He nodded as he put on some gloves. “I know you know exactly what's going to happen. And I also know you know that I have to follow procedure exactly. So I figure there are two ways I can play this. I can treat you just like any other patient I've never met before, or I can be your friend. Whatever is best for helping you deal with the stress of this process.”