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April O'Neil - One Hell of a Rough Night.	By : Nickamano Category: +S through Z > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Views: 7425 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any related materials are not owned by me. This was created for entertainment purposes only, and I am not profiting financially from the creation of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
Chapter 2.

April unzipped the front of her jumpsuit down to her waist and then worked apart the hooks before shrugging it off her shoulders and unveiling her naked breasts to the lads.
"Holy, shit it's like fucking Christmas!" White-Quiff said gleefully.
April noted that the punk artist chick, Meg, was also staring across at her stripped to the waist with wide eyed impressed expression. Her boyfriend still had his hands on her ass but was also staring slack jawed at April's tits.
In the same second White-quiff and Knife-mohawk both cleared the space between them and April and then took hold of a breast apiece, both essentially performing the same sexual examination - one hand hefting and squeezing their individual orb while the other hand stroked the soft smooth flesh with fingers and palms. Then went after a nipple apiece - rubbing, prodding, pinching, holding the already responding bud between finger and thumb and rolling it back and forth to make it stretch and stiffen.
White-quiff almost at once lowered his head and started to suck on his chosen nipple. Knife-Mohawk took a little longer. In fact, he got his dick out, grabbed one of April's hands and made her jerk him off while he molested her naked breast.
Of course, it wasn't long before April was shoved down to her knees and a cock was pressed to her lips. Though, prior to this there had been a short but noisy disagreement about who's cock was going to get sucked first between White-quiff and Knife-mohawk, which White-quiff won because his switchblade was bigger than Knife-mohawk's Balisong. While all this was going on, April thought she heard the door behind her at the rear of the carriage open, but it was a tiny noise beneath the shouting and scuffling and mixed in with the shunting rattle of the movement of the carriage, so she wasn't sure. And then a dick was pushed deep into her mouth, hands clawing at her hair, pulling her onto it and she got to sucking. The other lad, Knife-mohawk, she assumed, knelt down beside her and fondled her breasts some more. he was still angry and probably embarrassed about being made to back down in front of his prey so he was cruel with her breasts and had April wincing and moaning around the thick cock pistoning in and out of her mouth.
"More tongue, bitch! And suck harder, I thought you'd be better at this!" White-quiff growled.
April, though tired and sore and scared, bridled at the insult and despite it being forced, she found herself working harder on the invading cock.
"Oh, yeah! That's more like it!" He moaned in response. “Go for it!”
April found herself feeling proud of being complimented and then had to berate herself mentally for being so stupid. However, she started to rethink her strategy, considering that if she got these lads off quickly, maybe they would leave her alone.
Besides, at least she wouldn't be getting freaked out and creeped out by that shadow-stranger with these four in the car with her. Which was utter bullshit thinking, she concluded. Christ she was confused! She put it down to tiredness and got on with sucking dick.
Then, apparently, Knife-mohawk had an idea. He came around behind her, his hands on her hips and started to lift her up onto her feet.
"Stand up, but don't stop sucking." He instructed.
"What're you doing man?" White-quiff snapped. "Don't get in the way of my fun asshole."
"Relax, you prick. You carry on fucking that end, I'm gonna fuck this end. No big deal."
April was hauled up off her knees and she had to grab hold of White-quiff's hips to keep her balance. she felt Knife-mohawk reach around and awkwardly work her jumpsuit's zipper the rest of the way down. Then he tugged the garment over her hips until it was gathered halfway down her thighs.
"Holy...! Sweet, peachy fucking ass!"
Unable to protest of beg, April gasped out a series of muffled yelps as an open palm came down hard on her bottom. Four, fast, sparking slaps onto her cold tanned flesh. Then she felt her thong yanked hurriedly down to her knees.
She heard the raw hawking of spittle which was deposited on her bared labia by rough fingers. And then after a panicky second or two of heart-hammering, nervous anticipation, she felt the blunt spongy flesh of an erection pressing between her lips. It was like a hot coal against her, practically burning. He pressured it forward until it split her peach and then slid suddenly and deep into her hot pussy.
"Oh fuck! She's tight!" Knife-mohawk grunted through his gritted teeth. “That feels sooo fucking good.”
He kept up the firm pressure until his cock slid all the way home. Unlike White-quiff's cock, which was short and fat, Knife-mohawk was a pencil dick, long but thin and it butted against the depth of April’s unadjusted tunnel like a battering ram.
"Ohhh, yeah...! Now we're talking." Knife-Mohawk groaned.
He revelled in the feel of her tight gripping walls fisting around his meat, now that he was balls deep and knocking insistently at the entrance to her cervix.
He started to rape April with long deep strokes, holding off from taking up the fiery rabbit-pace of White-quiff oral assault, who was now leaning over her head, gripping her pendulous, shaking breasts in his hands, squeezing one and then the other in sequence, as though he was trying to milk her into a bucket. Weirdo.
She had a moment of amusement when Knife-mohawk tried to reach forward for her breasts only to find them already in possession, and there was a momentary attempt at a hostile takeover which devolved into a childish slapping match, that again, White-quiff won.
Knife-Mohawk's hands came back to April's broad hips, then sliding back and laying some extra nasty, probably frustrated, slaps onto her taut ass cheeks.
"Fuck, she sucks so good… I'm gonna cum!" White-quiff suddenly yelled.
He started to slam his hips hard into April's face, bruising her nose and lips with his firm, youthful abdominals. The thrusts also mashed her uvula with the blunt swollen crown a few times, making April gag uncomfortably.
"Ohhh, swallow it all bitch!" He growled, giving her breasts a nasty squeeze. "Swallow it all! Don't lose a fucking drop!"
Engulfed by her mouth and caress by her tongue April could feel the imminence of his orgasm, the extra hardness, the quickened pulsing throughout the thick veins and muscles of his erection. And then April's mouth was utterly filled with hot, nasty tasting spunk. It all came out in one big splurge, erupting in the back of her mouth and then over-flooding so it backwashed over her tongue, coating her teeth and threatening the seal between his slick cock and her stretched lips.
He started to pull back but April knew that if the seal between her lips and his cock was broken the spunk would go everywhere. And that order not to spill a drop was piercing her brain, making it into a meaningful threat. So, she grabbed his hips tight and held him in her mouth while she started gulping down the mouthfuls of his vile spunk. It took two heavy sucking gulps before she had emptied her mouth. And then she suctioned his shaft clean. All so he wouldn’t mistake any slimy residue on his cock as un-swallowed seed and go nuts on her.
He was groaning and sniggering to himself throughout his climax.
"Bigger tits than Meg and gives better head than her too." White-quiff muttered gutturally.
The punk kid, slamming his hips against April's ass with a hard battering pace was now going hell-for-leather inside her, as only teenagers can do. He laughed quietly at White-quiff's comments.
"Don't let the Anal-joe hear you say that." Knife-Mohawk sniggered.
"Heh, nah mate."
"If he found out we'd been black-mailin' her to ball her... He’d blow his top."
"I'm still fixin' to knock the little bitch up!" White-quiff said, with an even lower voice.
"I know it, mate. Get it done... Be a fuckin' riot seeing him bringin’ up your kid."
"Fuck that, I wanna knock her up so she'll come runnin' to me. Then I can fuck the little whore every fuckin' day."
"You swear too much mate!" Knife-Mohawk teased, still hammering hard on April’s ass.
"Ha...! Seriously though. Subservient little cunt, who'll take it in all three holes, hard as you like whenever you like, with just a few tears and those sweet whimpering noises she makes? What's not to want?"
"Think she would come running to you?"
"Course! Amount a'money my pop's got! She'll be all – “I have to do what's best for the baby, and with all your family's money”... blah blah blah..."
The two punks laughed together.
"Fuck that was a sweet suck….” White-quiff groaned in satisfaction. “…After that, I'm going for a smoke..."
Finally sliding his cock out from between April's slick lips, he put it away and then gave her a little pat on the top of her ruffled hair, as though praising a puppy.
"Nice one bitch." He said lightly. "You did a good job cleaning your mess too. Ten outta ten."
And then he stumbled back to the bench seat where a little metal tin and his lighter had been left.
Immediately, Knife-mohawk, leaned over grabbed April's bare shoulders and hoisted her upright. And then, filling his hands with her breasts, he shuffled them both backwards. And keeping her firm buttocks hard against his hips, dropped them both down into a bench seat. Then he growled at her.
"Start bouncing on my cock, bitch, while I enjoy these fucking humongous tits of yours."
He started to heft and squeeze April's bosom while she obediently shuffled her heels into a useful position and then started to lift and lower her hips, impaling herself again and again on his pencil dick. At least she could look around now.
Gritting her teeth and whimpering from the harsh molesting her breasts received from Knife-mohawk, April looked over at the girl Meg and the usefully nicknamed Anal-Joe. They had both apparently become turned on by the nonconsenting oral and rape of April and were now at it too. Or at least Anal-Joe had grabbed Meg around the back of her neck and pulled her pretty face down into his lap. He shifted slightly, sliding along the seat and April caught a momentary glimpse, before it disappeared between Meg's lips, of a full-on twelve incher. Not particularly thick but certainly a foot long. This guy was a ‘John Holmes’ mother-fucker. The mohawked dominator maintained his grip on the pretty goth’s head and pushed her unrelentingly down its no doubt intimidating length. The girl took the foot-long shaft without complaint, working at the hard cock with tongue and lips. Her cheeks visibly hollowing with her dedicated suctioning. She seemed to have quite a talent.
No wonder all three of these lads had found a way to take advantage of her body. It occurred to April that she might possibly buy her freedom by setting the three lads against each other by letting Anal-Joe in on the other two blackmailing Meg. However, a sudden strange look from the girl, thick Egyptian-style eyeliner running freely down her pale cheeks, caught April's attention and distracted her from her half-baked plan.
Though her head was down and bobbing rapidly, under the direction of the hand on the back of her head, Meg's eyes were up and staring right past April toward the other side of the car. It made April realise that the pretty young cocksucker was staring at something specific. Unfortunately for the girl, her distraction was affecting her performance and Anal-Joe wasn't having that.
Clearly annoyed and very dominant, he put both hands tight on her skull, griping her short, partially shaved hair making fists in its length, then stood up and hauled her to the floor of the train so she was on her knees with her mouth embedded halfway on his shaft. Without giving her the chance to question or protest or resist, he quickly thrust the remainder of his length roughly into the back of her throat, pulled her head back to straighten the bend in her oesophagus, then stabbed the last few inches down the length of her throat from above. She started to panic at once, choking, retching and gagging but he just held her tight, not letting her free and fucked her face relentlessly. The rest of her make-up was ruined in seconds as the overflow of saliva and tears escaped from every possible orifice. She was slapping at him, trying to get him to stop, her arms flapping in panic while cock-gagged squeals escaped her brutalised throat. However, Anal-Joe appeared quite beyond caring.
April had to admit that the sweet youthful shudder and bounce of her breasts because of the violent nature of her boyfriend's throat savagery was kind of cute. Despite the stomach-wrenching aggression he was using. However, she was suddenly reminded of why that had taken place in the first place. What had Meg seen that had distracted her and made her blowjob skills suffer?
Still obediently fucking herself on her rapists' cock, while he mashed her breasts and pinched and pulled her nipples nastily, April turned to her right and stared down toward the other end of the car. Looking for what Meg had apparently seen. She saw nothing, just a lot more shadow where lights had gone out and a flickering bulb near the door.
"Oh, oh, oh fuck! Oh fuck! Fuck!" Knife-mohawk started to groan. "Here it comes! I'm gonna fuckin' burst!”
His pumping hips, driving upward to meet April's hip-drops, speeded up and then became uncontrolled and erratic for the last second or two.
“Shit! Here it comes…! YEAH!"
Perfectly timed with his loud orgasmic exultation, she felt the hot squirting of ropes of his cum flying upward, ascending the height of her pulsing pussy tunnel, three big ones that descended into a follow up little torrent of dribbles, seeping out of her tunnel to trickle down into his pubic hair and scrotum.
April was faintly aware of the rapid movements of Meg, working away on Anal-Joe's cock. He was continuing to ram his tool into her throat while she, somehow demure and obedient, carried on with her apparently-talented sucking and tonguing. However, while he was enjoying face fucking his girlfriend, his eyes were on April and Knife-mohawk.
And in the moment Knife-Mohawk had hauled April up off his lap, shoved her over onto the bench seat beside him and then started to stuff his slime ridden, wilting cock back into his black leather trousers, Anal-Joe abruptly dragged his foot-long member out of Meg’s face.
"Right! My turn!" He snapped.
Hauling ass across the car, he elbowed past Knife-mohawk, who like White-quiff was now most interested in a post coital smoke, so he nonchalantly got up and shuffled back to his original bench seat. Anal-Joe grabbed April by the upper arm and shoved her over and around. Then he pushed her back down until she was in the position he required, on her hands and knees along the length of the bench seat. He got up on the seat behind her and aimed his warhead right at her tight little anal sphincter.
"No! Oh, please, no... Don't please, not that..." April wailed in sudden rising panic.
"Shut up! You're taking it, nothing more to say."
And with than he pulled one of her perky ass cheeks away from the other and gripping his shaft just beneath the crown, he pressed it firmly against her anal mouth and started the inexorable push.
No stranger to anal, after Dave and before him, a half dozen others since high school, April knew how to ease penetration. She was just glad it was this guy and not White-quiff. His fat member would have really hurt but Anal-joe's dick was long but not much thicker than the pencil dick of Knife-Mohawk. So, she relaxed and pushed back with her anal muscles, breathing deep and slow. However, the sphincter burn still proved painful and protracted.
Her fingers scrabbled around but then found the edge of the padded bench seat and she gripped it tight, fighting to maintain her relaxed ass. April was having trouble though. It had been a while since she had taken it up the butt and when she wasn't used to it, she often struggled not to tense up against the initial invasion. Though this time she felt the millimetre by millimetre success of the dick squeezing slowly inside her, the constricted crown half crushed by her anal ring, slipped beyond the barrier and expanded back to its correct size and shape. And then, once it was securely up her butt, Anal-Joe increased the pressure even more, grinding his inches into her without remorse, until another three or four inches slid into her rectum and then another three or four. He kept it up, adding groans of pleasure and exertion to his physical pressuring until finally, his body pressed firmly against her plundered ass cheeks, his hands tight around her slender waist, and every inch of his foot-long shaft was forced inside her hot, churning guts.
He started to thrust hard at once, sliding back and then slamming forward, using only half his length to ensure he wasn't forced out by the muscles still trying to repel his length. All too soon he was driving faster and faster, until he was slamming her hard enough to slap his weighty balls against her raped and cum-filled pussy. All April could do was silently thank young Meg's brutal oral assault that provided enough lubrication to at least stop her anal rape from being complete agony, while she focussed on keeping herself relaxed and not tensing up against the quick-repeated invasion.
Remembering Meg, April looked back over her shoulder, half expecting to see the pretty little brunette being quietly forced by one or both of the other lads but she wasn't, she had simply gone back to her graffiti art, though every now and then she looked up, peering over at the far end of the car and frowning, but apparently seeing nothing.
April turned back and looked over herself. She was much closer and she did at last, see something.
She could just make him out, slouched down on a bench seat at the end of the car. One of those dark green boots poking out at the end of the seat, the flap of the trench-coat hanging over it, and the top of the fedora, peeking up over the tarnished chrome of the seat back's metal frame.
April had to drop her head and close her eyes for a moment as Anal-Joe had slightly shifted his ass raping angle and it added to the hot burning discomfort burning her below the waist. Though, once she adjusted herself and her pliant body acquiesced to the hard-thrusting invasive member, April was able to pull her attention back to the shadow-stranger.
Even as she looked, she spotted movement to the left as well and shifted her attention to take in the second source. She immediately realised it was a reflection of shadow-stranger in the smeared glass of the window opposite him. She could see more of him from that angle, she could see that he had one of his green mittened hands in his lap pumping up and down rapidly. And while not surprising, it made her feel sick. He could only be doing one thing – masturbating, while he watched what they were doing to April. It disgusted her even more. She whipped her head back around away from him.
Okay fair enough, he might not want to put his life at risk for her, going up against three knife wielding punks, would be a big ask for anyone, but to sit there and get off on someone being raped? That was just sick! That was the kind of thing some delinquent teenager might do!
April looked back over her shoulder, toward Meg again who was staring with a confused frown beyond April, into the opposite corner, apparently seeing the shadow-stranger again. Maybe she wasn’t sure what she was looking at? It was hard for April to pay attention or even get a clear look because she was being shunted rapidly back and forward as her ass was pumped, violated. The punk's foot-long shaft sawing in and out of the hot burning pain that was, currently, the entirety of her anus. He was stabbing hard with every inward thrust, bashing into the constricted mouth of her large intestine. And April found herself wondering if her internal organs were being rearranged by his insistent attempts to get all of his cock into her body. Or was that biologically impossible?
But then Meg abruptly shouted something, and April was blessed with a momentary hiatus of her anal rape.
"Hey! Fuck! There's someone back there... Mike, over there! There's someone there, Mike!"
Hearing the girl speak, April wondering if young Meg might have some kind of mental deficiency. She spoke slightly oddly. Not really with an impediment, it was more her speech pattern. She couldn't really put her finger on it. Though it could explain how she could be mixed up with these psychos and how she allowed them to treat her so terribly and just take it. Easily led and taken advantage of.
“What the fuck you on about, girl?” The sodomiser grunted. “Oh, what the fuck…”
So, Anal-Joe was Mike. He paused in his anal rape to order the other two and Meg, surprisingly, to go over and investigate.
They huffed and complained that they were enjoying their high and that Meg was crazy and probably hallucinating but they got up anyway. Meg, surprisingly, leading the way. She unhooked the length of chain from her slender waist and brandished it like a weapon. Yep, altogether Eighties rejects the lot of them, April thought.
"Meg ain't fucking hallucinating. I can see the little fucker from here." Anal-Joe growled.
"So why don't you go and fuck the guy over?!"
"'Cause I'm fucking busy! It's my turn with the piece of ass, and you two shits are lounging about doing fuck all. Besides, tight as this bitch's ass is, I don't think I can pull out anyway!"
The three lads laughed together and then and the two nominated to investigate, carried on down the train car's central isle, to catch up with Meg.
The long cock buried to the hilt up April's ass once again began to stab fiercely into her and April had to take deep breaths to try and calm the fiery pain engulfing her back door and blink away the tears obscuring her vision, so she could watch what happened.
The first thing to happen is that more of the lights at the far end of the car went out. There was a momentary flash of reflected light, something catching in the air, something that might have been vaguely star shaped. And then darkness engulfed the rear quarter of the car, immediately followed by a tinkling sound and then surprised yells and cursing from the punks.
By the time April's eyes had adjusted to the deepened level of gloom, the colour and detail erased from the far corner of the car, Meg had already gone down. Something must have lashed out and struck her hard because she went down like the proverbial sack of potatoes. And either White-quiff or knife-Mohawk almost tripped over her inert form. And then the shadow-stranger rose to his full height, which was unimpressive, probably less than five feet.
White-quiff yelled, stumbling back and tripping over the unconscious Meg. However, even before he hit the ground a chain with a weight on the end burst from the shadows, wrapped itself around White-quiff's throat and then snapped it with a whipping jerk of the metal links.
At almost the same moment, the shadow-stranger erupted forward, there was a slashing movement and then a loud, protracted audible hissing. And then Knife-Mohawk spun around into profile and then collapsed with a shocking spray of gloom-coloured blood bursting from him. April watched dumbly aghast as his almost silhouetted intestines tumbled from a fresh wound across his abdomen. He fell panicking, surprisingly still alive, and trying to haul his guts back into the gaping hole across the width of his stomach. However, his panicked movements were already slowing, becoming lethargic as the lifeblood drained from him.
The multiple murder, all within less than five seconds, was enough for Anal-Joe to freak out. He hauled his cock, painfully, yanking free of April's guts and turned to run in a screaming panic in the opposite direction. April turned as he pulled himself free of her gripping and savaged anus, already trying to shove his wilting cock back into his pants. As April took in the ridiculous image, a spray of white liquid burst from the inflamed head of his ludicrously proportioned cock and dashed itself all over his jeans and the floor in a big explosive arc of uncontrolled bodily fluids. Which he slipped in as he ran, bouncing off a railing with his hip and almost hitting the deck.
April automatically started to drag her clothing back on as she watched the punk make it to the far end of the subway car, only for more of the silent flashes whip past her face to pin themselves deep into the backs of his legs. She saw them in the light, half a dozen of them around the size of the palm of her hand. Star shaped and metal, buried halfway into his legs including the backs of his knees. Of course, he had stumbled and fallen on to his face under the obviously painful impacts. And then something much bigger whipped past April's face. It was some kind of vaguely familiar East-Asian weapon, about eighteen inches long and daggerlike. However, the blade was a rounded shaft rather than pointed and the cross-guard was like bulls’ horns and it had been thrown handle first, the weighty looking pommel striking Anal-Joe perfectly in the base of the skull and laying him out flat on his face.
April half backed away from the shadowy horrors at the far end of the car, while equally terrified to put herself in the eye line of the shadow-stranger and his weaponry, but she slid backwards onto the floor on her ass while unconsciously pulling her jumpsuit back up over her naked upper body. She stared into the darkness in heart-stopping, abstract terror, shuffling backwards along the floor of the car, wanting to scream and yet finding no voice.
The shadow-stranger was bent low on the ground. A wide, faintly rounded hunchback pronounced by the trench-coat's taut stretch. Ignoring the chain throttled White-quiff, he grabbed the almost halved body of Knife-mohawk and dragged him away from the still laid out body of Meg. His strangely shaped green-mittened hands reached out and tore at her slashed t-shirt, exposing her attractive naked torso beneath, he peeled off the tape from her nipples and then started to feel around for the fastenings of her mini skirt.
The lowered fedora lifted slightly, looking up and April glimpsed the eyes, glowing clear whites surrounded by dark red, the pupils and iris's inky black, catching and reflecting highlights of the still-working bulbs in the remaining two thirds of the car. There was an inhuman animal savagery there, and mixed with it a very human lust, blazing white hot in those eyes. The mouth-covering scarf moved as though from the working of a jaw, though somehow it seemed wrong to April, though she couldn't put her finger on why.
"Go!" He said.
The voice was a snarl, low and guttural and strangely accented, ‘New Yorker’ and yet not.
"Leave, babe!"
The fedora dipped again and the mittens reached out and pulled the mini skirt down the girl's shapely thighs, revealing the G-string and fishnet pantyhose beneath. The three-digit mittens reached up for the crux of the girl's shapely legs and tore the two gussets away revealing the pale shaven pussy beneath. There was a small black tattoo of a butterfly to the right of the girl's bare pubis, barely visible in the gloom. The shadow-stranger reached for the buttons of his coat, obviously about to commit a rape of his own.
For a moment those eyes found her again. She thought he was going to tell her she was next, but instead it let out a strangely youthful and slightly manic high-pitched laugh.
"Spoils of war ain' it!" He said. "Go now, babe! Go home!"
April turned and ran.
<><><>
She ran along the carriage, essentially finding no one else. One car held a homeless man but he was asleep, his face buried under a newspaper. She hurried on but before she knew it, they were coming into her station anyway. She dived off the train the second the doors parted and then sprinted up the stairs, until she found her way to surface streets she recognised.
She felt immediately better then. The rain had eased up and the wind had died down. And familiarity went a long way to calm her beating heart. She considered stopping off at a bar for a drink or three to calm her nerves but decided her home, her triple locked door and her bed were better options. She started walking. Quickly.
April realised she should really be calling the police to report the incidents on the train but what could she say? Someone was bound to find the bodies and report it. Besides, she couldn't identify the shadow-stranger. She just wanted to head home and sleep. She felt bad for the goth girl, in a way she was as much of a victim as April herself but then again, she didn't try to help April when her friends were gang-raping her...
Random moments replayed through her mind, flashes, images, things that she didn't want to think about, that made her stomach lurch, made her feel queasy and disturbed. However, when those strange weapons popped back into her mind, they gave her sudden focus and her journalistic instinct took over.
The weird dagger-like weapon stuck in her mind most and she Googled 'east asian weapons'. She scrolled past spears, one of which looked similar to the dagger with long semi-circular prongs and a spike tip. There was something called a 'Kris', that looked like a curvy dagger. 'Samurai swords' came up. And then she found a photograph of a weighted chain attached to a kind of sickle, which looked very familiar, and clicking the link brought up a website referring to 'ninja weapons and gear'. This link gave her the name of the chain weapon a 'Kusarigama'. And then, there it was, right underneath, an 'Octagonal sai'. That was the dagger-like thing the shadow-stranger had thrown. A Karate weapon from Okinawa.
Some kind of vague human-interest story started to seed itself finally. But where was the angle? "The dangers for women alone at night"? "Even vigilantes can't be trusted"? "Rapist vigilante on our streets, criminals beware"?
April's head spun with more and more ‘less-than-real’ feeling memories, as though the things that had happened to her tonight had actually happened to someone else.
She finally made it to the steps to her apartment. She quickly punched in her access code, getting it right on the third attempt, and stepped through into the lobby. And there, inexplicably, was her purse. Just sitting there on the carpet tiled floor, next to the fire extinguisher.
There was a piece of paper tucked under the purse’s flap, beside the latch and she pulled it out. It was a receipt, one of those you get from a cash machine. And on the back was a note written in small blocky handwriting, not neat and tidy but carefully scrawled all the same. April was pretty good with handwriting. The author was someone young and inexperienced though not elementary school level, older. And there was a degree of discipline and control to the penmanship. Teenager?
She opened her purse and rifled through its contents, not seeing anything obvious missing. Then that horrible feeling of hairs on the back of her neck bristling, grasped her and she felt once again as though eyes were on her.
In sudden fear, she spun on her heel, half expecting some psycho to be standing right there at the entryway glass, staring at her but there was no one. She peered into the night, pushing her focus past the reflections of the lobby behind her and looked out into the night time-orange glow of the street light illuminated exterior. And after a second’s searching, there was the figure, half in the shadows of the entrance of a little alley, half a block away down the street opposite. Of course, it was the shadow-stranger, in his trench-coat and fedora. An arm came up in a greeting, not quite a wave. April found herself returning the gesture before she realised what she was doing, then forced her arm back down in alarm. He knew where she lived. He had followed her all the way to her home.
And then he was gone, just vanished, the line of shadow bisecting the alleyway was now a smooth vertical slash, no longer incorporating the shape of the shadow-stranger.
April bolted. Across the lobby and up the stairs, to her floor and then her own apartment. She triple-locked herself safely and securely inside, then checked every room and closest and under the bed. Finally reassured, April looked at the clock at her bedside and realised there were only three hours before she would have to be up again.
She stripped off, showered, dried off as quickly as she could, put her pyjamas on and then slid into bed.
She read the note one last time. Her head spinning still, with shock and yet also with those story seeds that weren't giving her an adequate angle. So, she found an app on her phone that played soothing ocean sounds and drifted off to sleep. As she drifted off April, sleepily realised she would probably end up sleeping in and that meant she would be late o work again and would have to give Burne Thompson another blowjob tomorrow to keep her position at Channel Six.

"Dear April O’Neil,
Glad you're home safe. I wanted to give you your purse back earlier but I didn't get the chance. Nothing's missing, well, I did take twenty dollars for pizza but I figured it was a fair exchange.
Don't worry about the girl on the subway. She's fine. A pussy full of spunk from a stranger and a bit of a headache. Something tells me it ain't her first or last time.
Hope I don't give you nightmares.
Raphael."
The end.
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April O'Neil - One Hell of a Rough Night.