She remembered clearly the moment he took off his clothes. Time was still. Her weight tugging down at the metal cuffs, she could feel the edges cutting into her skin. Though a smile was foreign to his face, he watched her with the biggest smile she had ever seen. He was a stranger now. He always wore layers of black all over himself, even his eyes; it was about the only thing anyone knew him for. It was part of who he was, since there wasn't much to him.
As she looked up with tears in her eyes, begging once more for him to let her go, he started to shed his many layers of black, holding his perverted smile. He took his clothes off anxiously. He had her right where he wanted her. In those moments, he shed his identity. She had never seen him before. He was no longer hiding behind his clothes, his many layers of black. His body was brown, unimpressive, and sloven. His hair was long, nappy, and unkempt so that it almost resembled dreadlocks.
Even though it was a revolting sight, she couldn't help but stare. Time was so slow, and she stood quiet now, realizing this was the first time she'd seen a man nude. Her attention was on his skin. His skin was very brown all over. It was something she had never seen. She hated it. He wore it proud without his layers of black. He was now wearing nothing but his evil, eager smile. Moving just as hastily as he had removed his clothing, he approached her. Time began again.