by K T Rose
He tapped his forehead. “That was silly to ask. I know what you like. Pepperoni with extra cheese. I remember because when we were in elementary and middle school, your Dad would bring it for the class for your birthdays. I always thought you were so lucky to have a birthday parties in school. I’d make sure I wore my best khakis and Biv’s cologne on those days. Do you remember? Every year, I looked forward to your birthday. Almost as much as I looked forward to the first day of school. Only cuz I know I’d see you and got to tell you about my summer.” His tone went somber. “I never understood why you never invited me to your weekend parties or why we never hung out outside of school. I guess I wasn’t cool enough.” He crouched. “How have you been? Are you all right?”
I shook my head.
He scoffed. “Well, hopefully the pizza makes your last day the best. It’s the best I can do.”
I went wide eyed and hesitated. What were his plans? He couldn’t want me dead. Right? I was the only person who’d done anything for him. His friend. So why? Why would he want to drag me into his basement and tie me up? Lost, I couldn’t deny it any longer: I was staring death in the face.
Perhaps I hadn’t helped him at all. Maybe he was more torn than he was before.
I kicked, moaned, and cried as I tried pulling my wrists apart only for them to stay tightly bound behind my back.
“I’m sorry to upset you, but this has to happen.” He stood and stumbled back, watching me. Shock washed his face. “I’m so sorry it had to end this way.”
He motioned for the stairs, stopped, then looked back. “Joyce, did you—” He sucked in his bottom lip. “Did you ever read my letters?”
Before I could muffle an answer, Biv yelled from upstairs, “Nicky. The living room. Now.”
Nick turned and headed upstairs. The basement went dark with a lone window casting a thick glow on the gray floor.
I sniffled. Mom was right. Nyla, in her own way, was right. Nick was out there, looking for me. I let out a low wail and laid my cheek to the floor, staring at the face of the bottom step. Or whatever the dim light from the window allowed me to see.
I moved my wrists. My skin rubbed together underneath the tight rope. I tussled with my ankles. My skin burned every time they grazed one another. I moved my hips against the wall and lifted my upper body, leaning my shoulder and cheek against the scratchy, cold surface.
I jerked at the shoulders when heavy footsteps struck the floor overhead. I threw my eyes to the ceiling and breathed a sigh of relief when the steps retreated. I had more time.
I peered around. The room’s shadows hid most of the things against the walls. Based on the smell, I expected to find clutter and trash across the entire floor. But everything was too far off for my eyes to catch. I squinted at the opposite wall. I scooted forward a bit. A blackened hump huddled in the corner. My heart quickened.
Please, please, oh please, I thought.
I dragged my butt against the floor, using the wall to keep me upright. The cinder block wall scraped at my skin where my shirt rode up my back, but I didn’t care. I needed a way out, fast. Please be tools, camping gear, cooking supplies…something. Something of use. Something most people stored in their basements. Something that could get me out of here.
The closer I got, the louder the smell. I paused. The shine of the black plastic garbage bags glimmered in the dim light. The smell suffocated me, burning my nose with the smell of month-old milk with a side of maggot ridden pork chops. I regurgitated under the gag.
I turned my head away and crinkled my face. Sick. I thought. I straightened my face. No. Hunting gear. It had to be hunting gear they never cleaned between uses. I turned back to the hidden mound and swung my legs around to the cluster. I kicked it, pulling the tarp loose.
A bruised, pale face stared at the staircase. A woman. A woman that may’ve been the same age as Mom. But death sunk her cheeks and turned her lips black. Her pink rollers still held her hair in place and her matching robe covered her body as she lay on her side. My head lightened and a freezing blanket of terror coated my body. I let out a guttural cry and kicked at the floor. My sneakers shrieked with every strike as I moved towards the center of the basement.
My hands pressed against thick hairs, matted against the floor. Wide eyed, I turned. A man with long dark hair splayed across the floor underneath his bloodied face. A knife handle protruded from his chest, where his heart once beat.
The light at the top of the stair painted the floor next to me yellow, outing the plump maggots crawling in and out of the man’s empty eye sockets. His boney body was covered in wrinkly pale skin and his mouth lay open, twisted at the jaw.
I heaved at the chest, falling over on my side as I pulled myself away.
A blond man charged down the steps, pumping his chubby arms as he hustled. He hopped off the second from the bottom step and stood an arm’s length away. His long hair glistened in the light as he cast his baby blue eyes on me.
“What are you doing?” He asked, dragging his face in disgust.
He lifted me by the arm and dragged me back to the corner. I pulled away, hoping to slide through his grip. But his big hand tightened around my arm. He tossed me back.
“I see you found Josie. He’s so pathetic, Satan didn’t even want him.”
He stood straight and peered over at the tarp. He dropped his shoulders and looked back at me. “You did that?”
Frantically, I shook my head.
He marched over and pulled the tarp back over the woman’s body. He stopped and stared at the wall. “Are you lying to me?”
“No,” I muffled out.
“All right. Nicky!”
Nick came charging down the steps and looked over at the blond with a fresh blacken eye, then froze. “Yeah, Biv?”
“Did you do this?”
“Do what?”
“Disturb Mom?” He turned to Nick.
Nick ran a hand through his hair. “No. I’d never disturb her.”
“Well somebody did and it wasn’t me. It wasn’t Joyce over there and now you sayin’ it wasn’t you. So who was it?”
“Maybe it was one of those rat fuckers that come through. Y—you know. They might’ve done it.”
Biv chuckled. “Yeah.” He nodded and raised a brow. “Yeah, you’re right. How could I forget about the fucking rats?”
They laughed. I spit heavy breaths through my bent nose.
“Joyce, is it?” Biv put a hand out to me as if waiting for a reply.
I starred daggers at him, conveying as much hate as I could. He seemed unphased because his smile only grew wider.
“We’ve had rat problems since we were kids,” he said. “Remember when we used to live a couple blocks from you? That place was infested. We had so many that we named them. And Nicky here used to feed them meat. When we moved out here four years ago, the rats followed us. They missed Nick as much as I did. As much as Mom did. I’m sure you’d meet one of them before we bring you upstairs later. They are some nasty little fuckers. Teeth like knives. Claws like talons. And they love dark, damp places with food. This place can get dark. And it’s humid.” He shrugged. “And there’s plenty of food.”
My skin crawled.
“You better hope I send you off to Satan before you’re chewed to death by rats the size of dogs, because either way, you’re going to feel pain. You’re dying tonight. And lying to me is a sure-fire way to speed things up.” He tilted his head. “Got that? You put my brother away because you wouldn’t know love if it hit you in that baby face of yours. But now, you’re going to repay him by giving up that sweet soul that everyone loves so much.”
He paced the floor. “Joyce, charity event organizer. Joyce, the all-star track and field runner. Joyce, the head of the student counsel. I know all about you. Your achievements. Your passion to help people. Your need to pick up charity and help. Nick wouldn’t shut up about you for years. But you wanna know what I see? Joyce, the liar. Joyc
e, the corpse. Joyce…the Benton brother’s sacrifice. You’re as pure as fresh cotton and I know for a fact you’re the best candidate for getting us on the road to riches. You wanna help Nick? Well this your chance.”
He peered over at Nick, who hadn’t moved from the foot of the stairs. “Pick up your face, Nicky. We need this. The band will take off and we’ll have more bitches than you can imagine. Fuck Joyce. You remember the shit she did to you? Putting you away when all you wanted was to love her? Well. That was your own mistake by assuming she felt the same way. In turn, she ruined your life. While you were in there drugged up and walking in circles, she was out here, helping other people. Making others feel like they had a place in this world. A place in her life. She was throwing those parties you loved so much—well—at least the ones she invited you to. She’s been dating other boys, going on family vacations, and working a part-time job. Volunteering all over the city. Helping everyone. She got her teenaged years. What did you get? You got chemical induced years in that slimy hospital. But here’s your chance. Make her wish she hadn’t betrayed you.”
Nick wiped tears from his face.
Biv scoffed. “We’re sending her where she belongs just like she thought she was doing for you.”
Nick crossed his arms over his stomach and nodded at the floor while Biv flexed his shoulders and grunted.
“Boy do I hate liars.” He peered at me, then sucked his bottom lip between his teeth.
By the time I blinked, Biv sprinted and stomped his sneaker into my nose. My head hit the wall and fiery aches erupted in my face.
“Biv!” Nicked said. Nick marched for Biv and grabbed his arms, pulling him for the steps. Biv snatched from Nick’s grip.
I inhaled hard through my cramping nose swallowing blood and a small stream of air as I sobbed.
Biv pointed a stiff finger to their mother. “She lied to me about where my money had been disappearing off to. The woman had sticky fingers and went all out her way to do the absolute minimum. She wasn’t always like that neither. No.” He wiped sweat from around his lips. “When you sent Nick away, you sent her soul away with him. She buried her head in meth, forgetting to go to work or to even live. All she wanted was money to support her new habit which that piece of shit over there was giving her.” He pointed to the shadow that hid Josie. “Once I found out, she knew it was over. She’d fucked up. The only way she could get back into the good graces of her only present son was to offer herself up.” He sniffed. “You can’t trust people who lie. You can’t have them in your house around your stuff. You can’t talk to them without a lie sliding past their wicked teeth. You understand that?”
I sniffled and struggled to get air through my bloodied nose. I watched as he crouched and leaned into my face. I turned, pressing my cheek to the wall. He pressed his nose to my skin and sniffed. “Hm.” He drove his tongue up my cheek, leaving behind an oily warm trail of thick mucus. I squeezed my eyes closed. “You’ll do just fine. You better start thinking about how hard you’ll be screaming in hell. You’ll need those pipes to work for an eternity, you lying bitch. I’m going to make sure we take our time with you before ending it all. But who knows? It might not work. Satan’s got enough liars as it is.”
Biv climbed to his feet and motioned for the steps. “Let’s go, Nicky.”
***
An off-key guitar bleated through the house followed by an offbeat drum solo. Someone stomped on the floor in the failed efforts of being a productive metronome. The sounds made me cringe, intensifying my headache. Satan would want more than my soul. He’d need the whole city to straighten out their crooked fingers and tune their tone death ears. Still, that wouldn’t help.
I blubbered as I envisioned Mom’s face. I remember telling her about the boy in class everyone picked on and how I sat with him at lunch and shared food with him. She rubbed my hair and the crinkles in her face lifted with her wide smile. “Never poke fun at anyone less fortunate than you,” she said.
And I never did. Shit, I never saw myself as better than anyone; I’m only better than the girl I was the day before. I sat there, wishing I listened to her worries from earlier that day, before I stepped out. She’d sat on the couch; her eyes dragged in worry. She crossed her legs and gyrated her casted foot nervously. “You know you can put off your shift for another week or so.”
“Why?” I asked, headed for the kitchen.
She hopped up and followed me. “Because of Nick.”
“Okay. Mom, you and Dad have used that to keep me stuck in this house for a week now. It’s tired,” I said, pulling the oak cupboard open and snatching up my water bottle from the mist of plastic and glass cups.
She crossed her arms and leaned against the oak counter. “Sweetie, people have seen him lurking around here lately.”
I rounded her and turned the faucet on cold. “Did Miss Dory tell you that?”
“What does it matter?”
“It matters because she’s always gossiping. She’s gotten worse since Morgan went off to college.”
“She wouldn’t lie about something like that, Joyce.”
“Okay well, it’s a free country. Nick can go wherever he wants.” I caught water in the water bottle and filled it to the brim.
Mom shook her head. “I don’t think he’s well. There’s no reason why he should be walking around here. He doesn’t live here anymore.”
I shrugged. “That’s not a reason for me to stay cooped up.”
“Okay fine. I’ll drop you off.”
“Mom, I don’t want you to have to wait in a hot car on a broken foot.”
“Don’t worry about me. I just want you to be safe.”
“Mom I—"
“This isn’t a negotiation! I’m taking you up there. Or at least wait for your father to get home.”
“Mom, he has a late meeting today.”
“Joyce, just let me—"
I slammed my water bottle onto the counter. “The people at the hospital need me!” I said. “And Nick isn’t after me!”
“How do you know? Huh?”
“Because if he wanted to cause me any harm, he would’ve already. He knows where I live. He could’ve come in here.” I planted a hand to the wall.
Mom shook her head. “Joyce—”
“He could’ve snatched me while I was taking out the trash!”
“Stop it!” she said.
“Mom, if he wanted to harm me in any way, he would’ve. All right?”
Her wet eyes started leaking tears. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. He’s disturbed.”
“He wouldn’t harm a fly.”
“You don’t know that.”
I huffed. “Mom, I know him. I was his only friend. I am his only friend.”
Mom squinted. “He wrote letters in blood to you. Friends don’t do that. People that are dangerous do that.”
“Nick didn’t mean to scare me. He—he’s different. I swear. He’s a sweet kid who didn’t have it so easy growing up. I was the only person that cared about him. The only one who talked to him. He loved me and didn’t know how to say it. Those letters were his way of crying out for help. And he got that help because of me. If he’s looking for me, it’s probably to say thank you. He would never hurt me. He loves me too much.”
Mom limped over to the threshold and leaned. She grimaced. I rushed over to her. “Mom, you need to sit down.” I put an arm around her waist and helped her back to the living room.
She sighed as I sat her on the couch. “I’ll be okay, Mom.”
She half smiled. “Why is your heart so big, Joyce?”
“How do you mean?”
“All this stuff you got going on. All these people—strangers—you help. I don’t know many teenagers who’d do that.”
My heart fluttered. I never stopped to think about it. In that moment, a warmth ignited in my chest and I smiled hard. “It makes me happy,” I said.
She picked up my h
and and look me in the eyes. “I can’t make you stay. You’re right, it isn’t fair. But you have to promise that if you see him, you call the police. No ‘welcome backs’ or ‘how have you been.’ Call…the…police.”
I smiled. “I will. I promise.” I sniggered. “But Mom, it’s been a week and nothing’s happened. Nothing will happen.”
But something did happen. Nick was out in the middle of the day watching me. Following me, waiting to drain my blood loose from my veins to feed the well. Or Satan. I sat there sulking, tied up from my mouth to my ankles. This basement was like a pit, sucking the air dry.
I shook my head, shaking the spell of depression. I’d waited long enough. The boys moved onto a different song based on the change in melody and slower tempo. They were too busy now to come check on me.
This was my chance.
I laid on my side and rolled across the grungy floor, weary of the rat king who’d skittered by not too long before.
Over by Josie, I rolled my body up his legs, and set straight up on his belly. I put my legs off to one side of his body and put my back to the knife handle. I gripped it while using my weight to hold him in place. I pulled and tugged, willing the damn thing to come free.
With a shaken throat, I grunted and listened. The drums beat a loud solo.
When the knife loosened and let go of the corpse, I bent my knees and pulled myself off him and onto the floor. I scurried over to the wall, turned the blade upward, and used my fingers to saw at the rope around my wrists. I winced whenever the blade sliced my skin, but only sawed faster.
I hummed, Come on you bitch, until the rope fell loose from my wrists. I repeated the process with my ankles. Then I snatched the tape from my mouth and hustled to my feet. I approached the steps and peered up.
Hands on the cold tile, I crawled up each step, inching my way for the side door at the top. The staircase seemed to shriek with every step forward.
My heart quickened as I stood on the platform and twisted the doorknob. It stopped short mid-twist. I frowned. I couldn’t take the idea of having to smash the windowpane to get out. They’d hear it and probably kill me on the spot.