NationStates Jolt Archive

These infidel girls, thought Mohammed. There little feigning of importance is just so cute.

He was in an international airport in the nation of Lundastal, where their laws were virtually making fun of all Islamic traditions. Men and women drinking alcohol beside him, women not showing respect to Allah and even gambling. It was disgusting, but the infidels would never turn to the glorious Allah. They were forever live in their ignorant cultures, until time ended. Or their lives.

It was a cold night in Lundastal, enough to make him don a winter coat. He had no reason to be here, except to study the infidels for the Islamic Brotherhood, a glorious group dedicated to making Islam global. Thus, he, rather quickly, hailed a cab and started studying the subjects of the Kingdom.

Then he noticed a certain young girl walking down the street, after 50 minutes in the cab. She was walking down the street, listening to what was certainly ungodly music and her legs were exposed. Daryaei couldn't take it anymore. These infidels must die.

"Stop here," ordered Mohammed, handing the cabbie the fee requested. "Thank you."

He got out of the cab right beside the girl, and his thoughts were confirmed. He heard Allah's name cursed on her music player. He bumped into her deliberately, and after a brief exchange of 'oh, sorry's, he started stalking her from behind.

An alley way was just a few metres from them. He would rape and kill her there.

Agneta had been hoping to visit one of her schoolgirl friends during that night for what she assumed would be little more than a study session. Upon her back was a backpack filled with study material she thought would be quite useful. In her ears had been the music of some of Lundastal's best known musicians. Agneta was what you would call a sophisticated young woman but mere labels wouldn't save her from what was about to happen.

If Mohammed listened, he could hear the faint sounds of her singing along to the music. Not loudly, of course, but with passion suggesting she was definately into it. When he had bumped into her along the sidewalk, she just smiled at him and told him that she accepted his apologies. She assumed that he had been a tourist. You didn't see Arab Muslims in Lundastal. There wasn't a chance at all you'd see them unless they were tourists or part of some diplomatic entourage.

As Agneta continued to walk, she turned off her music and stashed the music player away in her pocket because her cellphone had been vibrating. She carried it around whenever she wanted to call her parents or friends. It was her mother who was on the phone. Something about the upcoming party this weekend. A family reunion? Agneta smiled as she put the phone away once she was finished.

She did not notice that a man was following her and this would prove to be her fatal downfall.

As they walked pass the alley, Mohammed brutally pushed her inside the alley wall, with it's dumpster and litter. She looked into his eyes, her infidel eyes horrified of a man displaying power over her, as Allah intended.

He kicked her first, shoving her down on the ground. The darkness of the alley prevented the naked eye seeing anything, but a video camera or CCTV could easily pick this event up. Not that he cared. Allah and the Prophet Mohammed would protect him.

He started unstripping her, and slowly and brutally began the process of raping this infidel woman.

Agneta hadn't expected to be pushed into the alley by the man who had bumped into her a moment ago nor did she expect to feel his feet slamming into her stomach. Pain began to course through her veins. She tried to block him but he was too powerful. In her native tongue did she scream at him in the hopes he would cease and desist. She tried to fight back but he was just too powerful for her to deal with. Although a video camera had been recording the whole event, Agneta certainly didn't think about this. It was her body she wanted to save from this hell.

As he tore off the clothes her mother had just recently purchased, Agneta spat upon his face and tried to kick him in the crotch or anywhere she could in the hopes that she could get away from him. He tore off everything, she noticed, and her escape attempts were in vain. She yelled. No one heard her at all. Man and God were silent.

Once all was said and done, Agneta cowered in fear of the man who was looming over her and she prayed that someone would come and rescue her - she cried out for her loved ones. She cried out for someone to come and save her from this beast. It was all in vain. The end came anyway.

Allah, forgive me. These infidels must suffer greatly before they turn to you. thought Mohammed, while he stood up after raping the girl.

As an operative of the Brotherhood, he could never carry a proper weapon. The infidels had - to his knowledge- made guns and knives illegal, making this task rather hard. He also knew a CCTV camera was probably recording this, but he also knew the glorious Allah would protect him from the infidel dogs.

But he had a pen. A dark blue pen. He didn't know much about pens, so he had no idea if it was a 'biro' - whatever that was - or something completely different. However, he did know that such a pen could end this girl's life.

He took out his pen and threw it towards the girl's moth. If he was lucky, it would jam her throat and kill her in a minute or so. If he was successful, he would run as fast as he could, away from the scene.

As the pen was brutally jammed into her throat to the extent that it was futile to extract it, Agneta saw the entirety of her short life on Earth flash before her eyes rapidly as if it were some kind of merry go round that obviously was having mechanical problems. She could see all the memories she had spending time with her friends, with her family, with herself amidst the company of the stars of the night skies she would study from the confines of her bedroom. She could feel her body collapsing as time went on, weird noises came from her mouth, and she tried to continue looking at the man but her eyes kept flickering and kept getting blurred. Then, ex nihilo, it ended. She was out cold. Her arm draped across her breast while the head was turned just a little - it looked like she had actually been blugeoned.

Agneta had seen the light before she died. At first she was in a pitch black limbo but then heard her mother's tender voice urging her to run to the light. She ran as fast as she could, at her mother's behest, towards the light. When she threw herself into the light, she died. It is unknown if she is in Heaven, looking down on us, but perhaps she is. Perhaps she's wishing her family and friends all a long and happy life. Who can tell?

No one discovered the corpse until there happened to be a man with a woman on what would be called either a date or an unholy abomination in the eyes of Mohammad, had noticed the corpse while they were flrting. It looked pale and disturbingly appealing, the man said, after he had called the authorities. They arrived as fast as they could. Their leader was a rigid man in a coat who looked grimly upon the scene - sorting through the personal items of the dead girl which included her music player and a wallet containing her student identification card. Agneta. His sister had that name. "We're dealing with a sick piece of shit," the detective said as if he was a praying priest. He looked at one of his colleagues and solemnly nodded his head. "Go, now, and find her parents."

Agneta's parents were certainly modest folk who would never have been the infidels Mohammed would likely have made them appear in his mind. They lived in a modest house with a pet cat which Agneta had adopted from the streets in an act of charity by which her parents were persuaded to let her keep it. When the night had passed, Agneta's mother was frantic. It wasn't like her child, the child she spent so much pain trying to even conceieve, to be late like this. The father said she must have slept over at her friend's house - totally oblivious to what had happened. On the day that her corpse was found, a group of policemen went to her house. The father answered the door and smiled. "It's quite odd to see policemen here but come on in. We've got nothing to hide. Haven't done a single crime, yep, haven't sinned civilly yet."

The mother was in the kitchen at the time and from the living room was told by her husband to make snacks for the police officers. As the mother worked on some snacks, the police officers spoke to the father with the usual formula. "Your daughter is.....," one of them began, "dead. They found her corpse in an alley and we suspect that she was accosted by a mugger of some sort."

The mother stopped. Her heart tore immediately into shreds. It was possible to hear her stumbling in the kitchen as she headed over to the others, her eyes suggesting a mixture of outrage and frality as they locked upon the officers while the father kept emotionlessly silent. "Please.....tell....."

It wouldn't be long before they were escorted to the local morgue where Agneta had been stored. Upon the sight of her beloved daughter, the mother screamed so loudly that it echoed. She fell onto her daughter's pale corpse and wept violently while the husband looked on without knowing what he could do. He looked at the child he cherished. It had taken so much time and money to even have her conceived, let alone born, and he felt a tear coming down from his eyes. Agneta, his only child, was gone. He didn't know that, roughly around the same time, they had picked up a description of the culprit and were preparing to launch a search for him.