A dark caption.

Jessica ran for it, going as fast as her legs and her heels could take her. She was soon out of the house, away from that creepy man.

He said she'd be perfect. She wasn't going to wait to see what he did. She didn't turn around, even when she heard him start to yell. She ignored it, but she was glad to hear that as she ran it faded rapidly. He wasn't following her.

She slowed down once she was far enough away, and soon she had returned to a normal walking pace. Her adrenaline was leaving her system, and she calmed down, even almost euphoric at how she had handled herself, getting away so quickly and easily.

She turned a corner, wondering if she should file a police report, and after that point she was gone. The man was questioned, but he had recorded their conversation and while he admitted he in retrospect should have handled this better, he maintained he just wanted her for a picture he was painting as a model. His story did check out, the police found, and the leads dried up.

A few weeks later, the man got a job offer to paint a portrait and he took up the offer. He went into the bedroom and stopped dead in his tracks. Her body was burned into his mind after all that had happened. Now he knew what had happened to her, he thought as he shakily painted the portrait. Well, she had been in danger, but as for the who and the why, well, now both were known with horrific clarity.