Wicked Game
folder
+S through Z › Street Fighter
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
4,449
Reviews:
16
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+S through Z › Street Fighter
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
4,449
Reviews:
16
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Street Fighter, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter Three
Chapter Three ~
What a wicked thing to say
You never felt this way
What a wicked thing to do
To make me dream of you...
Pain rushed through Rosemarie's head as she struggled to regain consciousness. After several moments of fighting the urge to fall back into land of arms of unconsciousness and dreams, she finally opened her eyes. It took a few minutes for her to realize that she was no longer in her home but in the bedroom of an unfamiliar house. The curtains of the room had been drawn to keep out the fading light of day and only one lamp in the far corner of the room was on so as not to overwhelm her senses once she awoke from her drug-induced slumber.
'Where am I?' she thought to herself as she forced herself to sit upright in the bed. She ran her fingers through her hair, which had been loosen from its updo, as it spilled down her back in a river of pre-Raphaelite curls. Rosemarie blinked slowly several times until her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. The room was decorated in burgundy, gold, and black accents; the carpeting was a deep bloodred crimson. The king size bed was covered with a velvet burgundy comforter with gold trim around the edges and gold thread crisscrossing through out the seams. Several pillows of varying sizes were piled behind her, all in different shades of red, burgundy, green, and black.
Slowly, she scooted over to the edge of the bed and swung her legs over the side and sat upright. Almost immediately, her vision began to swim. Something had to have been either in the wine she drank or in the salad dressing. But who would want to kidnap her? She didn't have any enemies that she knew of...or did she? Rosemarie didn't have long to think when she heard the click of the doorknob turn then the heavy wooden door open. Holding her breath, she scooted back onto the bed and as far up against the pillows as she could, drawing her knees up to her chest. Like a wounded bird watching the snake who is about to strike but not knowing when, the young woman murmured a silent prayer as a tall shadow approached the foot of the massive bed...
What a wicked thing to say
You never felt this way
What a wicked thing to do
To make me dream of you...
Pain rushed through Rosemarie's head as she struggled to regain consciousness. After several moments of fighting the urge to fall back into land of arms of unconsciousness and dreams, she finally opened her eyes. It took a few minutes for her to realize that she was no longer in her home but in the bedroom of an unfamiliar house. The curtains of the room had been drawn to keep out the fading light of day and only one lamp in the far corner of the room was on so as not to overwhelm her senses once she awoke from her drug-induced slumber.
'Where am I?' she thought to herself as she forced herself to sit upright in the bed. She ran her fingers through her hair, which had been loosen from its updo, as it spilled down her back in a river of pre-Raphaelite curls. Rosemarie blinked slowly several times until her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. The room was decorated in burgundy, gold, and black accents; the carpeting was a deep bloodred crimson. The king size bed was covered with a velvet burgundy comforter with gold trim around the edges and gold thread crisscrossing through out the seams. Several pillows of varying sizes were piled behind her, all in different shades of red, burgundy, green, and black.
Slowly, she scooted over to the edge of the bed and swung her legs over the side and sat upright. Almost immediately, her vision began to swim. Something had to have been either in the wine she drank or in the salad dressing. But who would want to kidnap her? She didn't have any enemies that she knew of...or did she? Rosemarie didn't have long to think when she heard the click of the doorknob turn then the heavy wooden door open. Holding her breath, she scooted back onto the bed and as far up against the pillows as she could, drawing her knees up to her chest. Like a wounded bird watching the snake who is about to strike but not knowing when, the young woman murmured a silent prayer as a tall shadow approached the foot of the massive bed...