Come Closer E-Book

Tom Knocker

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

A Canadian girl takes a nice adventure tourist to her remote villa, which she inherited from her parents. He has no idea that she will soon lock him in the cellar and he will have to serve her desires. Is his resistance futile and is her soul really so black?

Tom Knocker is the English pseudonym of German author Thomas Neukum.

Leseprobe

Tom Knocker

Come Closer

Blonde, Pretty, Evil

BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

Info

Tom Knocker

COME CLOSER

- Blonde, pretty, evil -

Copyright 2023

Prologue

She parked her pick-up truck in front of a snack bar in Vancouver, Canada. Her SUV was by no means a muddy green tin box, but the paint sparkled black in the mild sun. Her hair was golden blonde as she got out of the car in crisp jeans. She was young, of medium height and breathtakingly beautiful.

A school group of teenage girls pattered past between her and the tower blocks. She took off her sunglasses, looked elsewhere and entered the snack bar.

Inside, there were two empty tables and stools, but an illustrated menu board lit up on the wall. Behind the counter stood a fat old bastard licking his lips at the blonde.

"Hi," she greeted curtly.

"Hi!" The little word sounded terribly bloated coming out of his mouth. "How may I be of service, miss?"

"I'd like a vanilla shake with lots of dark chocolate and little sugar, but there you go," she demanded.

He furrowed his eyebrows and set to work noisily. Before he had finished, she placed a ten-dollar bill on the counter.

The guy pushed the cup over to her and wanted to give her the change. But she already turned around and said over her shoulder: "Thank you very much, the rest is for a scratch card. Bye!"

Sitting on a cane chair outside was an attractive guy she hadn't noticed before. He was wearing an open jacket. A backpack stood next to him while he ate a fried noodle dish with vegetables. He smiled at her with his blue eyes.

At the same moment, she sucked on her straw, savored the velvety, strong taste and completely forgot to swallow. But then she told herself that she still had a lot to do. Perhaps she only tore herself away from the sight of him because he seemed too good for her.

She got into her pick-up and drove away.

But two or three hours later, she regretted her decision. On the Lions Gate Bridge, which led over an inlet of the Pacific Ocean to the northern edge of the city, the evening traffic was also jammed, much to her annoyance.

When she finally left Vancouver with her headlights on, the road seemed empty. Despite the twilight, the mountains could be seen in the distance. The young woman drove past a lone hiker with a backpack, looked in the rear-view mirror and slammed on the brakes.

Indeed, it was him! She leaned over and opened the passenger door.

"Hey, get in, I'll give you a lift."

"Oh, that's very nice of you," he said in surprise.

He immediately got in with his rucksack unstrapped.

She drove on. "Where are you going?"

"Anywhere."

"Then you're in the right car," she laughed.

Nirvana came rocking and muffled out of the loudspeakers - the voice of revolt, whistling on its last legs.

"That's my favorite band," said the young man.

"Mine too!" she replied enthusiastically. "And I wasn't even born yet when the musically gifted Kurt Cobain blew his brains out."

"Well, neither do I."

After a minute's silence, she said calmly: "My name is Jeannie. As I'm sure you know, it's a feminine form of the genie 'Djinn'."

"That sounds tough and sweet at the same time. My name is Arvid," he introduced himself. "I'm from Florida, where I was born. However, my mother is from Munich, Germany."

"Really?"

"Yes, I work in an outdoor and sports store, but I'm not a permanent employee. Because I would describe myself as an individualist. I love every adventure vacation."

"You and I will get on brilliantly," said Jeannie. She slowed down to flirt with Arvid with a sideways glance. Then she added: "I'm doing an online degree in information technology, I like to be prepared for anything and I live in a secluded place in the mountains with a forest around me. To be honest, I find the crowds in the city stressful."

"I totally agree with you," Arvid replied. He thought there was a good chance that he would end up in bed with Jeannie and was already looking forward to it.

She offered him a bottle of water that was as crystal clear as a mountain spring. "Would you like a drink? Fried noodles from the snack bar are often salty, aren't they?"

"Yes, that's right." He took a big gulp.

By now, only the quietest, most melancholy song by Nirvana was humming from the music system. Arvid had to yawn.

"Sorry, I'm suddenly terribly tired."

"Never mind," said Jeannie slyly.

Although he made an effort to stay awake, his chin fell onto his chest. He slept like a rock.

Jeannie stopped the pick-up at the side of the highway. Without getting out, she searched through Arvid's trouser, jacket and rucksack pockets. She took all his important papers and switched off his cell phone.

Her lips curled up in a wry smile as she stepped on the gas again and said to her knocked-out adventure tourist: "Don't worry, the fun is just beginning."

Chapter 1

Arvid woke up on a stone floor with nausea, headaches and aching limbs. He groaned and stirred in the semi-darkness. A dimmed lamp hung above him on the ceiling, adding to his confusion instead of providing clarity.

He felt around and recognized bars. Why the hell was he in a cell? The iron bars seemed to stretch right through the middle of a basement, dividing it in half. All four walls were bare.

On the opposite side was a landing with an armored door. Suddenly it was opened and a bright light was switched on.

Jeannie walked in with high-heeled black boots and her hair tied up. She was wearing patent leather and leather.

"Well?" she purred. "How did you sleep?"

Arvid pulled himself to his feet. Only now did he fully realize that he was stark naked. He wanted to hold his hands in front of his hips, but this gesture seemed even more shameful to him than anything else, so he immediately refrained from doing so.

"Tell me what this is about, Jeannie. Where am I?"

"Didn't you want to go somewhere, to me? My slave, you still have a lot to learn. Listen here," she teased him fiercely. "You're far away from civilization in a basement apartment in my villa. I inherited it from my parents. By the way, it wasn't that easy to drag you down the stairs after the knockout drops. I hope you didn't hurt yourself? I would be sooo sorry."

"I can't believe it," muttered Arvid.

He took a closer look around his so-called basement apartment: a metal bed with a woollen blanket, a wooden table, chair, washbasin, a shower hose over a narrow drain, toilet and cupboard shelves full of inedible books such as a heroic epic by Homer - sheer mockery. The cell also contained a supply of nut-fruit bars, plastic water bottles and a Nordic Track cross-trainer.