A woman who had been gang-raped

A woman who had been gang-raped

Past midnight, in that familiar narrow alley, the rain had just stopped and the ground still glistened with water. I came out the back door of the “Night Owl” bar, having drunk quite a bit, my head spinning, wanting to take a shortcut home. The alley was so quiet that only my footsteps could be heard. Halfway through, I saw a woman leaning against the wall.

She was truly beautiful.

Her long hair was slightly wavy, cascading over her shoulders. Her features were exquisite like a magazine model’s, her skin glowing white under the dim yellow streetlight. Her figure was exceptional: more than half of her breasts spilled out of her bra, her waist was slim and her hips rounded, her long legs looking especially alluring wrapped in flesh-colored stockings. She wore an extremely short black tight skirt that barely covered the tops of her thighs, one high-heeled shoe still twisted and hanging from her toe.

“Miss… are you okay?” I swallowed hard, my heart racing.

I had fantasized about scenes like this—picking up a beautiful woman who’d gotten blackout drunk outside a bar. But when I approached and squatted down, a strong mix of perfume and a fishy smell hit me.

I reached out to support her shoulder and discovered her ultrashort skirt had been pushed up to her waist. The flesh-colored stockings were torn in several places at the tops of her thighs. On the soft white inner sides of her thighs were thick, semi-dried white stains. A sharp, pungent smell of semen mixed with her body scent went straight up my nose.

She had been raped.

And it had clearly happened not long ago before she was dumped here. Her panties were nowhere to be found; her lower body was a complete mess, and there were red scratch marks on her stockings. Her breathing was weak but she was completely unconscious, her head lolling to one side, two dried tear tracks still on her pretty face.

My mind went blank with a buzz. Most of the alcohol instantly cleared.

I immediately took out my phone to call the police, but… should I? In this chaotic city, would calling the police even help? The police always arrive late, and sometimes they even extort the victims. I silently put the phone away.

She was just too ...