by Bob Dattolo
“These are the same parents that you were running away from? Can you tell me anything about that?”
I clammed up and looked down, unsure what to say.
He waited a long time before sighing. “All right. I’ll let that go for now, but we do need to speak about that. Let’s go back to the factory. Can you tell me what happened there?”
That I could do. “I…uhh, I went to the building and sat down against the wall.”
“Can you tell me what you were doing there? Why you went into that factory?” He did some strange things with his hands and I felt a tingle along my skin.
“I’m not sure why that factory. I don’t even know where I was. I barely saw the outside. As for why…I was there to kill myself.”
He grunted, but not in shock. “You went there to kill yourself? How? Pills?”
I shook my head. “No. I took a box cutter from home. I was going to slit my wrists. I started to, but someone appeared and grabbed me. I thought it was my father, but it wasn’t.”
“You started to cut your wrists?”
I held out my left wrist. “Yeah, I…” The cut was gone, making me panic as I rubbed at the skin. “I don’t understand? I cut myself right here! Right here!” I pulled at the pristine skin and lost track of the room as tears blocked everything away.
His hands on mine made me catch myself. “It’s okay, Ms. Driscoll. We have pictures of your injuries and I recall the one you mean. Please continue. We’ll cover what happened to your injury later.”
His calm eyes brought me back to center somehow and I nodded. “Okay.” Several deep breaths later, I was able to continue. “He said something about…I don’t even know what. About blockages and barriers and not being what I should be and something about a keystone, then he bit me.” I fingered my neck, finding it healed as well. “He drank and drank and everything started to fade. When I thought I was going to die, he took the box cutter and stabbed me.” I touched each of the spots he stabbed me. “Then he put me in that bin thing. I would have sworn I died. I don’t even know how I’m still alive. There was some screaming or noises or something from that thing above the bin, then I started getting warm. Then…then I saw death coming for me. Then I remember screaming and guns and then it all breaks up.”
“I see.” He rubbed his fingers together before nodding. “All right. I have some clothes that you can change into if you’re interested? I think we need to talk in a more comfortable location.”
I nodded and he retrieved a bag from the counter before leaving it on the floor in front of me. “There’s a bathroom over there if you’d like to use it. Just knock on your door when you’re done. I’ll be waiting.”
Chapter 3
He walked out without waiting for a response, leaving me on the floor covered in a blanket with clothes in a bag in front of me. Just what in the world is going on around here? I’m a suspect in something or other, then not a suspect, then…what? Seriously, none of this makes sense.
Pawing through the bag shows me a decent selection of drab clothing, including underwear, shoes, and socks. All of it seems suspiciously my size.
Scurrying to the bathroom got me there before anyone else saw me and I was able to drop the blanket to the floor and take in my reflection in the mirror. I would have screamed, except my diaphragm froze solid.
Have you ever looked in the mirror and thought, well, that can’t be me? That’s me at this moment. Unless this is a window with someone messing with me on the other side, that’s me. Yet it’s not me at all.
I tore away the hospital gown and stared at the full-length mirror in shock. I think I’m still the same height, but that might just be it. My skin is flawless. Like totally flawless. No freckles. No moles. Nothing like that. Not that I had a lot to begin with, but I did have some. Even the pores on my face look smaller. No pimples or blackheads in sight.
My hair looked fuller somehow and longer than I recall. Still the same blood red, but now it reaches below my boobs, when it wasn’t that long before this craziness started. As for my boobs…they’re larger than they were. Maybe a small C cup? Hefting one made me feel like a letch, like I’m touching someone else, but it’s my boob, so that has to be allowed, right? Please don’t let me go to hell for this.
Definitely heavier than before. Okay, so somewhere between yesterday and right now I had a makeover? And grew hair? And…my pubic hair is different.
How in the heck…did someone do this to me? I’m not sure what I’d even do for penance at the thought of someone cutting my pubic hair. My parents were very big on “normal” shaving but didn’t think anything beyond underarms and legs was normal. I never had a tremendous amount of hair there, but now it’s shorter and…neater, I guess?
Okay, ignore that, because I’m lost on how or why that would happen. Focusing elsewhere made me see my muscles, which I shouldn’t have. Ladies don’t have visible muscles. That’s for guys to have, but only workers. We work in our family, but we shouldn’t have vulgar muscles. Now I look like the people my parents always warned me about. Not huge slabs of muscle, but well defined and cut muscles reflect back at me.
Did I die and this is hell? Or heaven? It doesn’t feel like either of them, but would I know?
Is this some strange practical joke? I’m not sure how someone would do that, but could they? That doesn’t seem likely. Then again, how did I get thicker, longer fingernails and toenails? They look like short claws, and that’s beyond disturbing.
Getting ready to scream makes me catch my face in the mirror, which stops the vocalization before it starts, leaving me with my freakish fingers pulling my gums back. I’ve always had decent teeth even though I’ve never been to a dentist, yet they’ve never been this white. Or pointy. Not that they’re hugely sharp looking, but definitely not what I had going the last time I looked in the mirror.
Nor did I have eyes that are almost totally black. I don’t mean like dark brown eyes or even black eyes. I mean black all the way across. It’s not pitch black, but darn close to it in the middle, fading to a slightly less dark black towards the edges of my eyes.
Touching one of the offending orbs makes me jerk back in surprise since it hurts. It hurts like someone just touched my freaking eyeball. That thought makes me laugh, but it’s an insane sounding thing before I turn away from the mirror, focusing on the small bag of clothes. I can do this without looking at myself. Underwear and bra fit perfectly, even with my newly enhanced chest, letting me know that someone had a good look at me. Lovely. How long am I going to need to do penance for this? The thought made me want to cry, but I didn’t. I have too many other things to worry about right now.
Socks, pants, shirt, and shoes later, I was dressed. Everything fit perfectly, leaving me with an empty bag that I carried with me, crumpled in my arms like a teddy bear. Not that I’ve had one in years and years. Teddy bears are signs that a child is immature and not ready to learn about heaven. Just like the need for hugs. Contact from my parents was few and far between, since we needed to stand on our own feet in order to ascend.
My hospital room passed by me in vague detail until I knocked on the door, having it open to reveal the young guy once again. “You ready? We need to talk.”
I nodded, but it was numb. “What’s wrong with me? Why am I different?”
“What’s different?”
My voice cracked again. “My skin. My eyes. My nails. My…chest.”
He nodded slowly. “That’s part of what we need to talk about.”
We exited the hospital surrounded by other men in suits all looking different directions. When we reached a huge black SUV in front of the hospital, he moved me into the back seat where I found myself sitting between him and another silent guy as two more got in the front seat. The rest of the men filled into other SUVs in front and behind, and then we were off.
I couldn’t find my voice for almost five minutes. “Where are you taking me?”
His smile was disarming. “Somewhere safe for now. We
need to speak in private, and the hospital is no place for that. You’re safe with us.”
“I don’t even know who you are!”
He held his hand out to me. “Special Agent Andrew Thorne at your service. I’m with the FBI. We all are.”
The guy on the other side of me ignored us and looked out the side window. “FBI? I don’t understand? All I tried to do was kill myself. Why am I with the FBI?”
He tilted his head at me. “That’s all right, Ms. Driscoll. We can call your parents and have them come pick you up if you would like?”
Panic filled me. “NO! No, you can’t do that!”
He nodded, apparently expecting that as a response for some reason. “As I said, Ms. Driscoll, we need to talk. That’s only one facet of what we need to speak about.”
Please don’t let them call my parents! I can’t even imagine what they’ll do to me for running away. Never mind the fact that they want to kill me, the punishment before then will be more than I can handle. It’d be better to dive out of the car right now and let the others run me over. Even as I thought that, the locks on the doors pinged shut, jerking my head up to catch him smiling at me.
“We don’t want to have any accidents now, do we?”
I cradled myself and sat back against the seat as we drove, not really paying attention as I tried to figure this all out. What happened with me? What did that vampire do to me? I’m so lost and so afraid of going to hell for this that I don’t even know where to start with my worries or penance. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to work through being touched by a vampire and then meeting a shifter like that, at least not on top of being naked in front of an unknown number of people.
The ride was over before I knew it, and he stepped out in an underground garage that I don’t recall entering. He held his hand out to me. “You’re safe with us.”
Meeting his eyes should have been beyond awkward, but it wasn’t. At least this time. Instead, I really felt as if he’d keep me safe. How he’d do that, I have no idea, but he’d do it.
I slid out, his warm hand in mine, and we were surrounded again as we entered the building, crowding into a massive elevator with me in the middle of more strange men than I’ve ever seen in one place. I started getting edgy and was on the cusp of freaking out when the door pinged and men moved out, creating space around me again. My new clothes were soaked with sweat as we walked down a wide hallway to a room of some sort. I’ve seen enough TV shows to know what an interrogation room looks like, and this isn’t it. While there’s a huge mirror on the wall opposite, the place looks like a board room, complete with really comfortable looking chairs, a table for at least 10, and a side table filled with bottles of water, a bucket of ice, and a stack of cups.
He laughed when I latched onto a bottle and drained it. I wasn’t even aware that I was doing it until he laughed, which made me look at the empty bottle. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
He nodded at the table. “That’s quite all right. Have as much as you need. That’s what it’s there for.”
Looking over the little table, I gave in and took a huge glass of ice and an armful of water bottles before sitting in one of the chairs that he motioned to. I had the second bottle poured into the cup of ice and then down before he sat down, placing a stack of folders in front of him that he received from one of the other agents that then disappeared, closing the door behind him.
He chuckled as I was halfway through the third bottle, wondering what in the world is going on with me. I’ve been thirsty before, but not like this. It took four bottles before I started sipping at the water, feeling almost quenched.
“Feeling better?”
I nodded, sipping again. “Much. I just wish I knew what was going on with me.”
He studied me longer before tapping the folders in front of him. “Do you know what these are?”
Looking at them speculatively did nothing for me. No sudden insight occurred. “No? Should I? I mean, folders, obviously, but I have to assume that’s not what you mean?”
He flipped through some before turning two in particular around and sliding them to me. I flipped open one to find a picture of my sister, Donna. “Donna? Why do you have…” I looked at the information on the other page, trailing a finger down it. “What do you mean missing? She’s at school!”
I shoved it away and grabbed the next, not shocked to find that it was for my brother, James. Reading the information on his page brought tears to my eyes again and I sat back, not really seeing the room.
“So it’s all true? They’re not really going out to school, are they?”
He shook his head and picked up six more folders. “These are all your brothers and sisters. None of them have ever left your family compound. Ever. You’re the only one we’ve ever seen leave.”
My heart fell into my feet. “They’re dead. They’re all dead. My parents really killed them?”
“Is that what they did? Did they kill them?”
“I don’t know! We’ve been told our entire lives that they’re going out there and going to school or travelling. They’ve never come back and the letters stop. We’ve been wondering about it for a long time, but it’s not something we can really talk about. I…we set up an e-mail address for Donna and James to respond to me, but neither of them ever responded to my e-mails or sent me anything. Even their letters were weird.”
His lips pressed together. “Ms. Driscoll, none of your sisters or brothers have ever left the compound. You have never received any letters from them. We monitor every piece of mail going into or out of your compound. None have ever been received and very few made it out. Two from you in the past four years, but not from anyone else. We tracked the e-mail you sent and they were never picked up. The addresses were never accessed from outside the compound.”
More tears. “No letters were mailed? But we wrote letters every other week! We all did!”
“Be that as it may, none have ever been mailed. How were they going out?”
“They were dropped in the mail!”
“By who?”
“My mom!” I couldn’t stop my mouth from hanging open. “Why would they lie to us?” Their conversation came back to me again. “They were really going to kill me on my birthday, weren’t they! They were going to do it…just like they did to my brothers and sisters? Why would they do that? They’ll go to hell for that! Murder is a sin!”
He sighed and took the folders back, leaving a small selection left. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Ms. Driscoll. I really am. I’m not sure what to say about your parents that way. We’ve long had a concern about what might be happening on your compound, but we didn’t have any probable cause to enter. We’ve been monitoring everything and trying to record conversations and even follow them when they leave, but not much has slipped.”
I shook my head. “My parents don’t leave the compound.”
He grimaced. “They left the compound at least twice a week each. Alone each time, although not always.”
“What? When? They couldn’t leave, that would put them at risk of going to hell! They might run into supernaturals and get tainted!”
Another sigh from him. “Ms. Driscoll…can I call you Carrie?”
“Umm…it’s Ceri. An s sound.” It feels weird to correct him about that.
“Okay, Ceri, then. Can I call you that?” I nodded, so he continued, “Ceri, If I understand it correctly, you’ve been raised to believe that supernaturals are evil along with a variety of other things, correct?”
“Yes! They are evil!”
He waggled his hand. “I’ll admit that some supernaturals are evil, but most aren’t. Most are normal people that just want to live their lives. Even vampires. Not quite demons, since that’s their nature, but every other supernatural covers the gamut of possibilities.”
“No! They’re evil! They take souls to hell!”
His head shake was adamant. “Ceri, other than demons, they do not. Most supernatur
als don’t know hell from any other place they’ve never been. Some Catholic priests are supernaturals, now that the church allows them to enter seminary.” He held up his hand. “Let me say this, the people that told you supernaturals are evil are the same ones that were going to kill you, you said? Can you tell me about that?”
Those questions made my brain freeze for a moment before it kicked back into gear. “They did. My parents taught us all that. They taught us that supernaturals are all evil and trying to taint good folks like us and that’s why we have to remain safe at home. So that none of us are forced to go to hell.”
“They also told you that you can’t be naked? What else?”
I nodded. “We can’t be naked in front of anyone. We’re always required to call our parents Sir and Ma’am. We have to listen to them. In bed by 8:30 every night and up by 4am. Chores done before 6am. We had to read from the bible every morning for three hours before we were allowed to eat.”
He nodded with each piece. “We knew some of that based on tracking records and things we’ve overheard. But I have to tell you that most of what you were taught are classic controlling techniques meant to force people to obey. Even the amount of food you were seemingly allowed to eat was gauged to be just enough to keep you from being sick, but not enough to flourish.”
“But…why would they do that to us? They love us! They’re trying to get us into heaven!”
He cocked his head again. “Yet you just told me they planned to kill you, right? Tell me about that?”
Again, I was frozen before I was able to speak. “I…I overheard them talking. I was supposed to be out tending the cows, but my youngest brother fell and I was trying to wash the blood off that got on my hands with the hose before I stained my clothes.”
“Okay, what did they say?”
My mind fled back to standing at the spigot on the side of the house beneath their open window.
“What did you tell that stupid bitch again?” My dad’s gruff voice demanded.
My mom laughed. “I told her she’s been accepted to a college.”