by Mason, V. F.
“But you can predict his schedule?”
He shrugs, closing his eyes and lifting his face to the wind. He extends his hands to catch raindrops as the roof of the patio protects us from getting soaked. “It’s not hard. When I lived abroad, he mostly switched to let me know Eachann is alive. Also, he’d say shit so I’d be angry at Eachann. So I wouldn’t seek him out, I guess.” A humorless chuckle escapes him. “Here it was easy to trace him. He would strictly play Eachann during all the church masses and then some duties, allowing me to live my life normally.” For the first time, I hear anguish wrapped at the edges of his tone, and without thinking, I raise my hand to soothe him, but then pause midair with it, stepping back.
I can’t offer him comfort anymore, because we are on a battlefield, fighting for our lives.
Something in his words doesn’t add up in my mind though, despite his clarification. “But if he went to so much trouble to ensure you believe Eachann is alive, how do you know he’s not?” I mean, this plan of Eunan’s seems complicated as hell, but why would he go to such lengths to ensure that, if there was a possibility of Eudard knowing?
And more importantly, why did Eudard go along with it and play the part, essentially sacrificing parts of his life to live as his long-dead twin?
He spins so quickly I don’t see it coming as he wraps his hand around my wrist and pulls me hard against his chest, placing my palm above his heart. Our breaths mingle together while his piercing green eyes drill their stare into me, awakening desires within me that should no longer exist.
But they do, no matter how much I try to shut them up.
“He couldn’t lie to this.”
I feel his pulse under my palm, reminding me that their heart used to beat as one. “You felt it here when he died?” I ask, my heart hurting for him in this moment just imagining Eudard being slammed with such emotions, feeling with his very being that his beloved twin was dead.
“No, my phoenix,” he replies quietly, cupping my chin and tipping it up so I’ll meet his stare, momentarily forgetting our war. “I felt it when he bled to death in my arms.”
Gasping, I fist his shirt, allowing the tears to come and slide down my cheeks, because the sweetest boy I ever knew died in such a cruel way. But also because nothing but pain reflects on Eudard’s face when he says that, stabbing himself with the truth one more time. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, and he groans, pressing his forehead against mine while his hands slide to my hips, leaving no room between us while we are wrapped in each other. “I’m so sorry.” Losing a loved one is an unbearable pain that I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
“I’m the monster born in hell who bleeds every single day of his life,” he tells me, palming my head and leaning back, our lips a breath away from each other. “And you are my only salvation in the dark.” That’s all the warning I get before he puts his mouth on mine, sealing them in a kiss so strong I’m afraid we might not survive it.
A boom rocks from the sky, lightning flashing on us while the pouring rain continues to fall, like nature herself is crying with us, joining our never-ending misery.
For a moment in time, I allow myself to relax in his embrace and give all of myself to him, to create a cocoon of comfort around this bleeding monster who had no one to share his pain with.
For a moment in time, I press myself so hard to him, forever wanting to soothe the anguish in him that I can taste with every sweep of his tongue.
For a moment in time, I open my heart to this monster who placed me in his cage with no way out.
Knowing full well that when the storms end, I’ll do my best to run as far as possible, breaking our bond that’s brought nothing but endless suffering to both of us.
In this story, the monster doesn’t get his salvation.
For how can someone as broken as I am be salvation to anyone?
Eudard
Once upon a time, a monster trapped a sinner.
This started a war with no winner.
Both of them tried not to break.
From their bleeding heartache.
Chapter Six
“The girl is giggling.
Her ponytails swaying.
She is beautiful, like sunshine in the basement.
I want to extend my hand and touch her red locks.
But the monster inside me slaps my wrists.”
Eudard
Eudard, 6 years old
My eyes snap open when the rustling sound of the door echoes in the night accompanied by heavy footsteps hastily walking down the stairs.
By the sounds in the cages, I know Eachann and Liam are wide awake too, probably wondering what the future will bring us.
Liam squeezes the bars hard, keeping his gaze on the stairs as if waiting for who might show up, and I’m once again shocked that he ended up being a boy.
He looks like a girl with his long hair and delicate face, but more importantly, a dress! Why do they make him wear this kind of clothing if he is a boy?
“Satis puerorum,” he says, once again in this weird-sounding language Liam couldn’t explain; he only understood our names. He keeps on babbling about something, raising his hands up and down as if explaining the situation to us, but we only nod to his frustration.
There are two of them; the one with blond hair scratches his head when he sweeps his gaze over all the cages. “Which one does the boss want first?”
“The one who showed resistance,” the dark-haired man replies and then stops next to Eachann’s cage. “But they are so similar, I don’t fucking know which one we are supposed to pick.”
The blond one frowns and then punches the shoulder of the dark one who stumbles back a little. “If we bring the wrong one, the boss will have our asses. Which one?”
Their conversation makes no sense to me, but when the dark one steps in the direction of Eachann’s cage, I cry out. “Me! I bit one of you!” I shout proudly, even if coldness pushes into me, my heart beating wildly in my chest when both of their gazes land on me and huge grins spread on their mouths.
“The fucker came to us himself.” Then the blond one laughs, walking toward me and inserting a key into the lock. “The boss will teach you how to keep this mouth shut or wide open. Depending on his mood.” The cage opens with a sharp sound that irritates my ears, and I cover them up before his hand snatches my arms, pulling me to my feet. “Let’s go, boy.” I want to twist in his hold, grab the keychain from his fingers, and run away, but the earlier words of my uncle stop me.
What if my actions bring pain to Eachann?
And besides, maybe Daddy is here. That’s why he is calling us, right?
Liam whispers, and I look at him when he shakes his head, tears streaming down his cheeks, and he extends his hand to me, but the dark-haired man kicks the hand away.
“Get under control, Liam. Or do you want to take his place?”
Liam gasps and then rushes toward the rear of the cage, pressing his back to the wall and trembling, his teeth chattering against each other.
“Thought so.” The dark man leans on the bar and rattles it a little so Liam starts to cry, which only earns him a laugh from the men. “Not so brave now, huh?”
“Stop it!” I scream, and the man slaps me on the cheek, my skin burning from the contact.
“Shut it, kid.”
They drag me to the stairs, and I see Eachann extending his hand to me through the cage, but I ignore it, hoping he will see in my eyes to stay away.
I don’t want him to get hurt more than he already is.
“He’s too slow. Pick him up and move your ass. The last thing I want is for the boss to get in a sour mood. Last time, he killed Johnny for less!” The man listens to him instantly, scooping me in his arms and then jogging toward the door. The light blinds me for a moment, until I block it with my arm.
They take me back upstairs, where I see several men lounging on the couches, playing cards and smoking, laughing hysterically over something they see on TV. Weird sounds come from it,
and I see a woman on screen, right before the blond guy speeds up until we are on the second floor, and he goes straight to huge double doors.
He stops by them, takes a deep breath, and then motions with his head for the dark one to knock, I think.
He does it five times, and they both tense while I hold my breath, not knowing what’s going to happen.
I hope Daddy is waiting for me on the other side of the door, so he can give our uncle whatever he wants and we can go home to Mommy.
Away from these evil men.
“Enter” comes the reply, and they go inside. Hope that was still blooming in my chest like one of my mom’s roses in her garden shrinks, stepped on by the reality of this room.
“Leave,” my uncle says, and I see him standing by the huge open window, the curtains blowing in different directions as he sips something, the ice cubes clinking in his drink.
The man drops me on the floor, and I groan again, but stifle it so I won’t show my weakness to my uncle. He doesn’t much like it, if the earlier scene is anything to go by.
The door shuts behind them, and I sit on my knees, trembling from the wind swirling around me and wincing at the classical music playing in the distance somewhere, hating it, because Eachann plays the piano every day, so it is always on repeat.
He turns around, wearing only his white shirt and pants, his bare feet slapping against the marble as he walks toward me. I can’t help it. I get up and run to the door, but his voice stops me midway to it.
“Nah uh uh, darling. Should I call for Eachann?” I freeze, breathing heavily, and slowly spin to face him while he comes closer, unbuttoning his shirt for some reason and then rolling his sleeves up his arms. “He seems to be more compliant than you, pretty boy.” He calls me that name again. Revulsion rushes through me, and I have the desire to vomit. His brow lifts. “Answer me.”
“No.” My voice shakes, croaking the word, and I shift back when his hand goes to his belt and he removes it from his pants with a loud whoosh. My shoulders sag and I rub my arms.
Does he want to hit me?
He extends his hand and then waves at me to come to him. I’m still frozen on the spot, so he exhales heavily, hunching down, twisting his head so that he catches my stare, and his cold eyes send more fear down my spine, where different things play in my head. I want to run away so badly.
So, so badly.
My hands sweat and my heart beats harder like in cartoons where it’s about to jump out of their chest.
“You are a strong boy. I like it,” he says and then grins. “How about we make a deal?” A deal? “If you do as I say, I won’t hurt Eachann.”
I blink at him, not really understanding what he is asking.
“I’ll give him good food, and we can act like today never happened for him. Or he can suffer.” He waits a little before asking, “Do you want your twin to suffer, Eudard?”
I shake my head, my heart breaking just imagining Eachann’s suffering.
“Then come here, and I promise you I won’t touch Eachann. But you have to do as I say. Always.”
Maybe I should allow him to hit me as long as it means Eachann’s safety. Maybe he is like Ethan’s father, who needs to hit his children from time to time to let some steam out. At least that’s what he said to Daddy, who kicked him out of the house after those words, promising to speak with Ralph’s father over this.
It’s a small price to pay until Daddy gets here and saves us from this man.
Swallowing back the bitter taste in my mouth, I take a few steps toward him and stop in front of him, while he studies me before grinning again.
“You are indeed so pretty. Just like your mother,” he whispers and then puts his hand on me, running his fingers through my hair, and it takes everything in me not to duck my head. “Silky black hair,” he says with joy then pulls it hard, and I cry out. He orders, “Kneel.”
Tears form in my eyes, but I don’t let them out, doing as he says, because his words about Eachann ring in my ears.
He can never come here and be as scared as I am, because he wouldn’t survive it.
I’m the protector here.
Only me.
I land on my knees, keeping my eyes on his calves, and watch him walk to the table where he picks something up. He twirls the thing in his hand. “I prefer longer hair.” Then he comes back and places it on my head—a black wig!
It covers half my face and falls down to my spine, almost touching the floor since I’m kneeling. “Ah, beautiful.” He lifts my chin with the tip of his finger, angling my head back and forth. “Those eyes of yours are something else. I can almost pretend it’s her.” He squats in front of me, and before I can do anything else, he palms my head and puts his mouth on mine.
Shocked, I scream and push him away, twisting in his hold.
“Stupid shit,” he mutters and slaps me across my cheek. My head swings to the side and pain shoots through me. “When I love you, you have to be still.” He grabs me again, trying to put his mouth back, but I shake my head, wanting to vomit all over again and not understanding what he wants from me.
What is he doing? He is not supposed to touch children like that! The only kisses I’ve seen are done between grown-ups.
I turn around and dart to the door, wanting to get away from him, not thinking about anyone or anything, just his hands on me and this crazy look that reminds me of Liam.
No wonder he got scared so much in the cage.
A leather strap wraps around my throat, making me stumble back, and I lose my balance, landing on my knees once again. I cry out when the hold on me tightens, my fingers digging into the leather, and I hear a thud sound behind me, right before he presses himself to my back and his harsh breathing fills my ears. “You promised me, Eudard,” he whispers and then bites on my skin while tears stream down my cheeks. I struggle in his embrace, trying to get away, but the leather is wrapped so tightly around me I can barely breathe.
“You’ll be my favorite toy, boy. I can feel it already.” I hear a tearing sound and then feel his hand on my bare bottom, his fingers digging into my skin. “You can make any sounds you want, pretty boy. No one will hear your cries, and those who do… will enjoy them right along with me.” The wig slides a little forward, blocking my vision, and I don’t see anything, but that’s when unbearable pain slices through me as something pushes inside me, bringing so much agony I shout, tearing my throat, and sob loudly, begging.
“Please stop.”
But the only sound from him is laughter and grunting, while he pushes and pushes.
The pain doesn’t stop. It builds and builds with the leather still sometimes taking my oxygen away, and I gasp for it, fisting my hands and trying to get away, but it’s no use.
His other hand continues to touch me, squeezing parts of my body that make me want to barf. I gag, but his hand covers my mouth, and he seethes in my ear, “Don’t you dare get sick now. Or do you want me to bring your twin here?” The idea of Eachann being here sends so much fear through me, almost stilling my movements and resistance.
I swallow harshly the bitter taste that threatened to vomit all over the floor while the pain continues to come.
Closing my eyes, I try to count to ten, praying for God to stop it, for Daddy to come to the rescue, for anyone to interrupt this.
The wig falls off, and he mutters, “Fuck.” Then his fingers lace in my hair, pulling it back while the agony stays, and I silently cry in his hold, begging someone to help me.
But help doesn’t come, and nightmares remain where the evil man continues to grunt and grunt, bringing me so much pain I’m surprised I can stand it.
I imagine I’m back home with Arianna on her ice while she slides on it, laughing so loudly that it rings in my ears, instead of all other noises surrounding me in the present.
She waves brightly at me and motions with her hands to follow her on the ice where she can show me her latest trick so we could practice together. That’s one hobby I share with he
r.
And focusing on her as if I take steps toward her helps me not feel or hear anything besides her, calling my name.
But then she vanishes from me.
I’m brought back to the present with a violent tug of my hair, and he groans, “Yes, you will be my favorite toy. I won’t share you with anyone. They’d tarnish you.” More pain comes and comes and comes before he groans and pushes me forward where I drop and hit my chin, biting my tongue and filling my mouth with blood.
Pressing my head into my arm, I sob into it, my shoulders shaking while he barks above me. “I don’t want tears, Eudard. If you want me to keep your twin safe, don’t cry anymore.” Then he pats my head. I see his shiny shoes walking to the door, and he opens it then shouts, “Henry, call Clarissa here. Tell her to clean him up.” He waits a minute and the scent of a cigarette fills the space, so he must have lit it. “Also, free the other boy and take him back to his room. Clarissa has to clean him up too. From now on, bring this one to me every night except Sundays.” Then he must shift his attention to me, because he asks me, “Right, Eudard?”
I weep inside just imagining him doing this to me again, his hands touching me, his mouth and… other things he did that I’m still sticky with.
But if I don’t agree, then he will touch my brother.
How can I subject Eachann to this?
I’m already broken; he doesn’t have to be.
Without raising my eyes, I nod, and he chuckles lightly, apparently happy with my choice.
He was right.
I was nothing but his favorite toy for a long time.
And that ironically became his and my ultimate downfall.