The Girl Thief

by Robert E Cummings

  The window stuck like it normally did halfway up. Sammy ducked in. Faint voices streamed out from the front room. She turned sideways to get her foot in and leaned forward to place it down. She brushed against something. Hollow cans tumbled and rolled. She stepped on one, rolling her ankle and falling into the room. One of the cans rolled toward the door.

  A long, slender figure cast a shadow. “Sneaking in, little bird?”

  Tatiana appeared nine feet tall from the floor, featureless in the dark room like a snake rearing up to strike. Sammy sprang to her feet and hurled a handful of bearings at the serpent. A cloud of darkness passed over the room. Sammy stood transfixed by the spectacle. The cloud passed. A bedsheet dropped, sending the bearings to the floor like hail from a withering storm.

  The serpent struck, grabbing her by the neck and pinning her against the closet door. “You’re so predictable, little bird. You’re starting to bore me.”

  It hurt to swallow under Tatiana’s tightening grip.

  “I have big plans for you tonight, but you’ll have to show me you’re ready.”

  Sammy gasped for breath; her head pounded.

  Tatiana looked her over. Her face twisted. She pulled Sammy away from the door and slammed her against it. “You’re not ready at all. Where’s the dress and wig?”

  “Downstairs,” Sammy choked out as the grip tightened.

  “You brought them?”

  Sammy nodded. She didn’t think she could speak.

  Tatiana leaned into her, breathing in deeply. “First lesson of the night.”

  Sammy clawed at Tatiana’s hand.

  Tatiana bent down. Her face was inches away. “Let go of my hand, or I’ll snap your neck.”

  Sammy let go, hoping she’d ease her grip, but she tightened it. Sammy’s hands shot up.

  Tatiana turned Sammy’s head, digging a knuckle under her chin. “Do you want to make it to lesson two?”

  Sammy dug her fingernails into her palms, fighting an urge to strike back. Her arms and hands banged against the closet door as she fought for breath. The beds disappeared into a fog of darkness. A snake had her by the throat, waiting for death so it could devour her. She fell, knees hitting the floor, but was grabbed from behind and allowed to gently fall.

  Steps tapped away like thunder. She rolled over onto her back, blinking to bring something into focus. Was that a plate stuck to the ceiling? No, it was a light fixture. Yeah, there were four lights in the room.

  The clicking taps were distant at first, then closer like a storm rolling in toward her.

  Tatiana squatted beside her and stroked Sammy’s hair. “Would’ve been ashamed to kill you before you put on the dress and wig.”

  Sammy rolled onto her side and rubbed her knees, sore from the fall.

  “It’ll be a glorious night, little bird.” She pulled Sammy close as if they were bosom buddies. “What a wonderful thing to see my little bird fly.” She reached down for the fallen sheet and ripped off a strip, then tied it into a noose. She slipped the noose over Sammy’s head. “Ready to make me proud?” Tatiana asked, tightening the noose.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  ______________________________

  Tatiana held the back door as Sammy snatched the two bags leaning against the railing. Tatiana jerked the noose. “You’re dillydallying. There are minds waiting to be blown open.”

  Sammy slipped her finger into the noose to loosen its grip.

  Tatiana yanked on it, pulling it tighter. “Did I say you could loosen it?”

  “I can’t breathe.”

  She yanked again. “Did I?”

  Sammy looked away to hide her hatred. “No.”

  “I tell you when you can breathe and when you can’t. Do you understand?”

  Sammy nodded.

  Tatiana stepped closer and slipped her fingers into the noose, loosening it. “Can’t wait to see you in the wig.”

  Sammy forced a smile, lifting the boxes to show her.

  “You’ll be transformed, my little bird. Now lock up. We don’t want to be disturbed.”

  Sammy closed and locked the screen door and back door, fumbling with the locks to delay what was coming. Saving the twins now seemed as likely as growing wings.

  Tatiana pulled on her leash. “Don’t forget the cans. Poor Gladys was madly searching for pots to put all that soup into. We don’t want to have her efforts go to waste.”

  Sammy stacked the cans by the door. A dozen pots and plastic tubs crowded the counter along the wall by the stove. Gelatinous paste in hues of browns, reds, and oranges brimmed the containers.

  “Move along, little bird.” Tatiana nudged her. “There’ll be no soup tonight.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “The plan is to get you out of those and into these,” she said, tapping the bags. “Now up the steps.”

  Sammy turned back to her on the landing. “What happens after I get dressed?”

  Tatiana gave her a backhand wave to keep going.

  “Another appetizer?”

  “If you don’t move quicker, I’ll get in front and pull you up.”

  “My knees are stiff from the fall.”

  Tatiana crept up beside her, straddling the steps. She ran her hand along the back of Sammy’s neck down her back. “After tonight, you’ll be lusting to open other minds.”

  Her breath on Sammy’s neck chilled her. Sammy trudged up the steps.

  Tatiana pulled her past the back bedroom and the bathroom, then stopped at Cindy’s old room. Mark lay on top of the rubber doll with his pants pulled down to the ankles. He fought at the ropes tying him to the bedposts. The doll’s dark hair was pulled back in ponytails, its face eternally etched in glee.

  Tatiana stood in the doorway and smiled. “Aren’t they a lovely couple?”

  Mark turned toward them, his eyes wide with fright. Reddish-brown blood stained his upper lip and nostrils, and his nose was swollen. The swelling arced under each eye. He looked away.

  Tatiana sauntered to the bed. Mark squirmed as she approached. She reached over and squeezed the doll’s ample breast. “Remind you of anyone?”

  Sammy expected the squeeze to make a noise.

  “She’s not much of a talker. Give her a few glasses of wine, and you won’t get her to stop.” She turned toward Sammy with a smirk.

  Sammy smiled on cue. She had to play along until she figured a way out of this nightmare.

  “You can’t please Chocolate Cake by just lying on top of her,” Tatiana said. “Start pumping, Lover Boy.”

  He rose and dropped over the doll in a slow, undulating motion.

  Tatiana tilted her head to look at him from behind. “I think he needs help down below. Want to lend a helping hand, little bird?”

  Sammy shook her head.

  “You’re on your own, Lover Boy. Try pumping faster.”

  If he was moving faster, Sammy couldn’t tell.

  Tatiana sighed. “Faster.”

  Mark moved his head up and down more, but the rest of his body wasn’t keeping pace.

  “I think he needs a nudge.” She pulled out her silver-handled switchblade and flicked it open. She pressed the flat part of the blade against his butt cheek and pulled it away.

  Mark screamed. A thin red line appeared, droplets of blood crested the wound.

  “Want a matching mark on the other cheek?”

  Mark shook his head, pumping furiously.

  “That’s it, Lover Boy. I want to hear screams of ecstasy from Chocolate Cake.” Tatiana smiled, seemingly pleased with herself. “You’re up next, little bird.”

  “Me?”

  Tatiana flickered her fingers. “Change.”

  “Here?”

  “Lover Boy needs all the help he can get. You don’t want him to disappoint Chocolate Cake, now do you?”

  Sammy tugged at the leash. “Can’t change with this thing on.”

  Tatiana stood over her, carefully pulling the strip through the knot as if it were something del
icate. She smiled, holding the strip between her fingers. “You’re free now, my little bird.”

  Sammy lifted the dress out of the box.

  Tatiana leaned against the doorjamb. “Lovely.”

  Mark took glances between his slowing rhythmic pumps.

  Sammy slipped out of the jacket and pulled the T-shirt over her head, then dropped it onto the floor. She picked up the dress.

  Tatiana snatched it from her. “Take those off,” she said, wiggling her finger at the trousers. “You don’t want to deprive Lover Boy of the show.”

  Sammy kicked off the shoes and dropped the trousers. She held her hand out for the dress.

  “Those too.”

  “What?”

  “They’ll just get in the way of my plans.”

  Sammy glared at her, pulling down the panties and stepping over them.

  Tatiana offered the dress, then dropped it.

  Sammy bent down.

  Tatiana grabbed her by the shoulders to keep her from rising. “Look at him go. Can’t you hear Chocolate Cake screaming with ecstasy?”

  Sammy bent at the knees and pulled away.

  Tatiana laughed. “That was priceless.”

  Sammy leaned against the wall, covering herself with the dress, her face flushed.

  “You’re still wound too tight, little bird. That’ll have to change.”

  How about a sledgehammer to your face?

  “Don’t dillydally,” Tatiana said, closing the door. “I’ll be waiting with breathless anticipation.”

  Mark lay on the rubber doll, taking quick, shallow breaths. It looked as if he’d been washed ashore.

  “Don’t look,” Sammy said, searching for how to put the dress on.

  “I’m tied up.”

  “Your eyeballs were roaming pretty good.”

  “You think I’m enjoying this?”

  “Must’ve been that doll making all the noise.”

  He groaned.

  There were no buttons or zippers on the dress. It looked like it just slipped on. Sammy wiggled into the dress, then tugged on the skirt. It came down to her knees. She took the box with the wig and put it on the dresser. The stupid wig sprang to life.

  “There’s got to be something sharp around to cut me loose,” Mark said.

  “Why, so you can run out and save your own stinking life?”

  “I’ll get help.”

  “Don’t you think I would’ve done that if I thought it would’ve worked?”

  “I know people.”

  Sammy tucked her hair under the wig, then pulled it down. “Are they real or rubber?”

  “Okay, I’m thoroughly humiliated. Happy?”

  “No, I’m scared shitless, and I look like a stupid chicken.”

  He lifted his head to look at her. “Look okay.”

  “You’ve been staring at that doll too long.”

  Mark sighed. “Look for something sharp. I can help.”

  “There’s nothing in here. Cindy was weird that way. She wouldn’t even keep nail clippers in her room.”

  Sammy raced to her jacket, remembering the knife from the pawn shop. She patted down the pockets and found the bulge from the sheath. Heels tapped along the hallway toward the door.

  Chapter Fifty

  ______________________________

  Sammy flipped the jacket over, searching for the knife. The door handle jiggled. She slipped the jacket on as the door swung open.

  Tatiana scowled. “Take that off.”

  “Feeling cold.”

  “I could cut it off for you,” Tatiana said, yanking Sammy’s jacket collar. “Cutting clothes is like coloring books with me. I never seem to draw in the lines.”

  Sammy pulled off the jacket and bunched it into a ball.

  “That’s much better.” Tatiana ran her hand along Sammy’s neck and back. “I could eat you up.”

  Sammy looked away, tucking the jacket behind her.

  Tatiana turned Sammy to face Mark. “Don’t you think she’s scrumptious, Lover Boy?”

  Mark turned to look.

  “If you’re a good boy, you can have a taste,” Tatiana said, lifting Sammy’s skirt.

  Sammy pulled it down.

  Tatiana stepped behind Sammy, bending over; her breath pulsed against Sammy’s neck. “Lover Boy will help you shed those fluffy down feathers.”

  Sammy slid her jacket in front of herself.

  “And you can send him flying into a new world.” Tatiana rested her chin on Sammy’s shoulder. “You’ll thank me later after you’re free.”

  She had to get the knife out somehow.

  Tatiana gripped Sammy’s shoulders. “Come, little bird. The party awaits.”

  Sammy stood beside Tatiana, bringing them closer in the narrow hallway. She held the jacket in back, feeling for the knife. They passed her old bedroom. She’d never get the knife out before entering Gladys’s room.

  “I haven’t been this excited since the massacre in Milan.”

  Sammy swallowed. “Massacre?”

  Tatiana pulled Sammy close. “Isn’t it exciting? I’m trembling with anticipation, and I have you to thank for it.”

  Sammy’s legs felt leaden. A lone chair stood just past the open door of the front room.

  “I can’t make up my mind if Gladys is the entrée or the appetizer. You’ll be responsible for the finale. I was going to say dessert, but it doesn’t quite fit unless it’s something extravagant. Oh, I know, Baked Alaska. Yes, a fire! You do inspire me, little bird.”

  Sammy stuttered to a stop about a foot from the door. What had she done?

  “I know the thought of it all is breathtaking. When I’m finished with you, you’ll be flying high, circling your prey.”

  She had to keep the horror from blinding her and get the knife out.

  Tatiana fluffed up the wig’s feathers. “I envy you now. I’ll never forget my first. It changed me into the person I am today.”

  Sammy stared at the chair. “What am I going to be doing in here?”

  “You’ll be on the bed getting comfortable. I have a few toys that’ll get you in the right mood.”

  Focus! “Are you going to be on the bed too?”

  Tatiana ran her fingers along Sammy’s chin. “Wouldn’t that be a delight?” She looked back into the room. “I’ll be in the chair directing the show.”

  “If I’m going to learn, wouldn’t it be best if I could stay by your side?”

  “You still haven’t flown yet, little bird,” Tatiana said, studying her. “I suppose you can keep me company until the third act of Gladys’s little tragedy, or is it a comedy? I can’t decide where it falls.”

  Sammy had to get the knife out by then.

  Tatiana glanced at Sammy’s hand. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the coat.”

  Shit! “This?” Sammy said, showing the balled-up jacket. “I took it in case I get a chill with all the excitement.” She tossed the jacket to the side of the chair. “Probably won’t need it.”

  “You’ll be hot if I have to warm you up myself.”

  Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.

  Tatiana stepped aside, her hand out. “Shall we?”

  Gladys was tied to the chair in the middle of the room but close to the front window. The side of her face was slightly swollen. Her head remained down, but her eyes were up and glaring at Sammy. The twins sat huddled between the bed and the wall, arms tied to the bedpost. They looked like castaways from an indifferent world. Two wooden spoons lay at their feet.

  “Hi, guys,” Sammy said, her pitch rising to feign cheerfulness. She wondered if a wooden spoon could impale the psycho bitch.

  They both looked up. Their dull eyes brightened. “Sammy?”

  It was spoken in a chorus that momentarily lifted her. “How do I look?”

  Justin crinkled his nose. “You look funny.”

  “Couldn’t tell it was you, Sammy,” Jenna said.

  Tatiana sat down behind her. “Take the spoons and give them t
he screwdrivers.” She pointed to a dresser drawer behind Gladys.

  It looked like four screwdrivers, but two of them had sharp-pointed tips. She knelt beside them, giving each a screwdriver.

  “I don’t want to play this stupid game anymore, Sammy,” Justin said.

  “Just a little longer, sweetie.” She tried to smile.

  “Do you want to lie in the bed or sit by me, little bird?”

  Justin sneered at Tatiana. “She’s bad. She hit Momma Gladys.”

  “I know, sweetie. Play along just a while longer.” Sammy rose, collecting the wooden spoons. She offered them to Tatiana.

  “I don’t want them,” Tatiana said, her tone noticeably colder. “You can use them to warm yourself up for all I care.”

  Sammy tossed them under her chair and sat on the floor beside her within reach of the jacket.

  “Comforting the little darlings?” Tatiana asked, glaring at Sammy. “Did I say you could comfort them?”

  Sammy looked down at the spoons. “I don’t know what you wanted. You didn’t tell me anything.”

  “You’ll see soon enough.” Tatiana waved her hand for them to stand. “Uncover the nasty lady.”

  The bedcover was flipped over a long lump. Was someone on the bed?

  They stood, trudged to the bed, and pulled back the bedcover. It looked like clothes stuffed into one of Gladys’s tops and a pair of her trousers.

  Tatiana glanced at her. “Gladys picked them out herself.”

  The twins tapped the dummy with the blades of the screwdrivers in a motion typical for hammering a nail. Some strikes sounded hollow, others silent.

  “No, you’re doing it wrong. It’s like how I showed you with the spoon. You drive down.” Tatiana held her hands together and made a thrusting-down motion. “Remember, she’s a nasty lady.”

  They imitated the motion but with little enthusiasm.

  “No, harder!”