Floor Five (Koray, Shadow_girl)

[Koray]

City lot #12, across the street from Rosemont Apartments. It's early afternoon; the minivan has been parked here for four days. And during much of that time, it's been occupied, not that anyone could see that through the darkened windows. Occupied, as now--a lanky man sits cross-legged in the back, watching a video on his laptop.

In the video: just a hallway, seen from the ceiling at one end. The man speeds along, stopping suddenly at any flicker of motion. Whenever a human figure appears, he zooms in, and stares for a long moment--or not so long, if the figure belongs to a man. Or to someone obviously elderly, or obviously fat.

Then, each time, he moves on.

The computer is set up on some kind of a strongbox. Piles of loose clothes and other stuff clutter the surrounding space. There's barely room for a person to sit.

Even at high speed (aside from the pauses), it takes an hour for the video to end. As soon as it's over, the man closes it and unceremoniously deletes the file (called "rosemont fl4"). He sighs and stretches a little and scratches among some of the clothes until he's dragged out a uniform: a brown jumpsuit with the logo "A.J.'s Electrics" stitched on the front and back.

He clambers outside and crosses the street absentmindedly--then through the familiar lobby and into the familiar elevator, up to the fifth floor. It looks like all the others, and the light fixture comes off pretty easily like in all the others, and of course there's just enough room in it for the camera, like usual. Nobody even comes by.

Next comes a cheap, early dinner, a walk downtown and back--and then downtown again, just to pass the time. Then bedtime in the minivan... all while the camera does its job. He wonders whether it will catch anything worth pursuing, this time. It's exciting to think--at any moment, somebody really nice might be coming home....

 

[Shadow_girl]

There is one thing about shit that is certain, if it wants to hit you then there is just nothing you can do about it but walk right in to its trap. And the same thing happened to Alicia Adams, a pretty young girl of 20 years of age, an African American with a brownish complexion.
Alicia was 5'8" and 130 lbs with a curvy body and an ass to die for. Her brown curls with a golden highlighted bangs that framed her face perfectly. She had moved in to the city a month ago and had got herself a nice apartment and a job.
The job was a bit demanding though and often kept her working till very late in the night. And it was another such day. Compiling all the details of that contract for her boss meant that she only arrived at her apartment at 11 in the night. Dressed in black slacks and a white blouse with a leather purse hanging over her shoulders, she walked towards the door to her apartment in the empty hallway. The sound of her leather boots echoing there. She looked quite tired and disheveled.

 

[Koray]

In the tomb-like minivan, he experiences a moment of wakefulness... nothing special; he'll fade back into sleep and forget it... except his mind happens to touch for a moment on the image of the camera across the street, quietly recording--he hasn't much else to think about, after all; it's the main reason he's here--and in the relaxed freedom of half-asleep imagination, he easily sees the machine's near future, and the huge problem there: He forgot to recharge the battery this time. It won't run for a day, not even close. It might be dead already.

Ohhh but he's trying to sleep.

But... there's nothing to wait for, and no reason to be here, unless he fixes the camera. No matter how tired he is. The public parts of that stupid apartment are unlocked basically all the time, that was the point of choosing it. There's no excuse not to go fix the camera. He struggles back into the jumpsuit and steps out into the night. And across the street, up the stairs, it feels perfectly normal by now....

Turns out the camera isn't quite dead. It's not even 11:30 after all. He ducks into the hallway's bathroom and takes a look at the little screen--why not. Nothing, nothing, bald guy, nothing, nothing... what is that. That is a woman. The young, fit kind. The right kind.

He's not tired anymore. He should go back to bed. He should spend another day watching for men going through her door. But she's right across the hall from the bathroom. Right now. He steps out, fully intending to go back downstairs. In a moment the lockpick is in his shaking hand; the lockpick is in the lock. Jiggling, jiggling, CLICK....

 

[Shadow_girl]

The tired girl unlocked the door of her apartment and stepped in and locked the door behind her. She sighed as she switched on the lights to the confined one bedroom apartment. She would move out of this place soon to a nice and clean neighborhood. Walking over to the small kitchen area in the living room itself, she fixed herself some left over pizza and a can of chilled beer from her fridge and then walked back to sit on the couch.
Through the small window in the living room, the flickering lights of the Neon sign outside danced themselves on the walls of her living room, once she switched off the lights. It gave the room a sense of some kind of night club. She had just moved in a few days ago and was yet to clean and fix the bedroom. So she has been sleeping on the couch itself. But first she must change in to something comfortable.
Her clothes were still in her suitcase placed in the corner of the room. Walking over to it, she pulled out a pair of pajama bottoms and a loose v-neck t shirt and then went to the bathroom down the hallway.
(OOC: sorry for the delay...a few real life troubles had me surrounded..)

 

[Koray]

He watches himself turn the doorknob but what he sees is in his mind: his hand on her ass, that round jutting ass. The door swings gently inward, pleasingly quiet. Thece's a scent of pizza, maybe some sort of perfume or shampoo or who knows what girly thing; it's like an invitation. This is the right door, it says. This is where you belong. His nerves ease, and he strolls almost relaxedly into the entryway. But he's not relaxed; this is no time for that. He sees the couch, gets ready to lunge--and nobody's there. He silently closes the door, and peeks out into the main area to view it fully. Nobody. He listens. Someone is running water.

He locks the door behind him without looking at it. His eyes are fixed on what must be the passage to the bathroom. Nothing to be seen--but there's a small sound, yes, the prize must be in there. Her luscious body is so close, so defenseless. His mind seems full of heat. It's hard to think. His penis half-stiffens. Hurriedly he pats the biggest pockets of his jumpsuit. Duct tape, good, and some other tools, good, it's enough. He'll be able to control her. He fishes out a short knife in case of trouble. At worst he can always kill her. He doesn't want to do that but it's good to remember that he can.

Almost unknowingly, he begins walking toward the bathroom or whatever it is. He's ready to fuck, ready to fight. He feels tall and strong in this dim little apartment. He reaches the corner, and there's the door... should he open it? He hesitates, poised to grab.

 

[Shadow_girl]

She gets in to the small bathroom though she leaves the door half ajar. There was no need to lock it. She was the only one that lived here. Slipping out of her work clothes, she quickly slipped in to the tight pajamas that hug that ass of hers tightly and the loose t-shirt. She then brushed her teeth and washed her face clean. She hated getting pimples on her skin, so she washed it regularly with the best face products.
Alicia looked in the mirror one last time, running her hands through her golden brown hair straightening them out. Turning off the lights, she walked out of the bathroom and in to the hallway. As she was to step towards the living room, she was suddenly grabbed from behind.

 

[Koray]

The stranger girl folds right into his arms like she was made for it. He wraps her up quickly and tightly, hooking one elbow around her neck so as to be ready to choke any fight out of her. His other arm crosses her abdomen, allowing him to crush her body back into him, and perhaps to drag her off balance. He loves how light she feels--how small. Her head nestles into his collarbone, and he presses his face into her hair. He inhales hard, out of exertion, out of hunger for her scent. How much will she struggle? He didn't even bother with the tape yet, it's still in his pocket. She could scream, and that wouldn't be safe. But he isn't afraid. This is her first chance to perform for him. She's delightful so far; he can feel her plush butt even through the jumpsuit. And her boob squashing against his arm--ah, this is a catch to be proud of!

"You're mine, bitch," he growls commandingly into her ear. His tone and his accent (Bavarian) mangle the words almost to unintelligibility--but his meaning may only be the clearer for it.