Inferno

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Inferno Page 3

by Yolanda Olson


  My husband is out there somewhere in the woods with our son, a nosy neighbor, and enough rage to punish them both with a smile on his face.

  But what kind of father would that really make him? To punish his child for doing something that obviously makes him happy would be hypocritical of him, and Pater prides himself on being the very opposite of that.

  But where are they? Why is there no sign of life between the trees when I know there are three people somewhere out there in the isolation?

  I sigh unhappily and let the curtain drift back over the window again as I sit on the edge of his bed. This is not a place I’ve ever enjoyed being, and it seems to be more of a hell in the current situation of not knowing.

  “Hello?”

  My eyes widen as I run out of the room and find Vaughn in the hallway peeking into doors. Neither of us should be up here, but it’s more dangerous for him because if Pater gets a whiff of his scent having roamed through his private space, it makes him fair game.

  “Go back downstairs now,” I hiss at him frantically. He stares at me in confusion. He thinks the danger is not real because Pater isn’t in the house, but I know better. I fucking know better and I have to get him back down to where he belongs.

  “If he smells you up here, you’re going to end up in his room,” I say as I walk toward him, grip him firmly by the arm and begin to steer him back toward the stairs. “Get downstairs. Stay there; lock yourself in my room. I’ll figure out how to fix this.”

  “But—”

  “Now,” I say again, firmly setting him on the staircase. I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him until he reluctantly begins his descent. I hate having to treat Vaughn with such false, overbearing anger, but if he believes he’s angered me, he’ll listen.

  And it will keep him safe.

  I don’t know how Pater can tell when someone has been upstairs, but my curiosity got the best of me one day when he had been out buying groceries for himself, and I went up to his private floor. He found me later that night, curled up in my room reading a book, and quite literally dragged me all the way back upstairs and into his bedroom.

  He told me he had been able to smell me in the place he told us was off limits; that he knew it was me because the hallways smelled of lavender and forgotten innocence. He told me that since I had broken his simplest rule, he had no choice but to break me in return.

  I wrap my arms around myself and shiver as memories of that first night in his bed threaten to wash over me and drown me where I stand.

  Pater is an evil man in everything he does, and that night was no exception. However, I cannot allow myself to be lost in those thoughts. I have to rid the upstairs of Vaughn’s scent, then go back to the window and hope that I’ll finally catch a glimpse of Eloy.

  It honestly worries me that I’m so invested in being an actual maternal figure to them now more than ever. It means I’ve accepted Pater as their father and as my husband, but I will do what I must to keep them safe from his misplaced sexual desires. I will take the brunt of his devious needs, and I will make sure they’re kept safe from things they shouldn’t have forced upon them.

  They shouldn’t be here and neither should I, but this is the hand we were dealt and he chose us specifically for this very reason. At least, that’s what he’s told me before, though I don’t know how much I believe of his story.

  As long as it keeps Vaughn and Eloy out of his bedroom and out of his special rooms, I will gladly be the sacrificial lamb. It’s what a mother would do, isn’t it? Lay down her life for that of her children? I know I’ll find out soon enough, but for now I just want some sign that Eloy is alive, and to rid the upper floor of Vaughn’s scent.

  I’ve made it as far as his bathroom when I hear the front door of the home open. He’s laughing loudly, the echo booming throughout the downstairs of the house, and I know I’m too late. I won’t be able to do much to deflect his knowledge that Vaughn transgressed him, but I will still try my damnedest.

  But as I leave his bathroom with a can of air freshener in my hand and begin to vigilantly spray the hallway as I run down its length, something slows me down. Pater is still laughing, yet there’s no other sound accompanying him. No sound of an upset young boy being mocked or praised, no sound of the additional set of footsteps that should have entered in the house with him.

  And as he begins to ascend the staircase, I try my best to steady myself against the wall next to me. Is he laughing because of what Eloy has done? Or because of what he has done to Eloy?

  Chapter Five

  By the time he reaches the top stair, I’ve saturated the hallway as best as I can and I’m standing in a choking fog of ocean breeze. I don’t care that he’ll see me here, as long as I’ve done my part to keep Vaughn off his fucking radar.

  He stops when he sees me standing just beyond the landing and his laughter gives way to a grin. I watch as his head tilts to the left and begin to shiver as his eyes travel up and down my body before resting on the can I’m holding.

  “What are you doing up here, Jocelyn?” he asks in a quiet, sickening tone.

  “I ... I ...”

  He chuckles and walks toward me, jerking the air freshener out of my hand and takes a deep breath. He narrows his eyes for a moment and looks behind me before he nods in understanding.

  “Bad, bad, bad,” he chides, shaking his head slowly. “Why are you all behaving so badly all of a sudden? Do you like being punished?”

  The slight bounce in his step tells me that, regardless of my answer, he’s going to do whatever he deems necessary to correct my misstep, and I can’t fight him over it because it would mean Vaughn would have to take my place.

  “Pater?” I begin slowly. “Where’s Eloy?”

  “Did you ... Did you just ask me a question?” he inquires in a mocking tone as the grin fades from his rugged face.

  Normally, I would back down. I would tell him no and I would await whatever punishment he deemed necessary, and allow him to take the appropriate corrective steps against me. But Eloy is missing now, and I want fucking answers, no matter the cost.

  “Yes,” I reply defiantly. “Where is he? Where’s the boy?”

  Pater walks quickly toward me and I can feel my body stiffen, but I maintain the defiance in my eyes that I feel in my heart for him as he stops in front of me. His breathing is uneven and I can see the fire burning in his gaze, but I refuse to let him consume me in those flames; not until I know where Eloy is.

  His hand flies through the air and lands firmly across my face, almost knocking me to the ground. The sting of it makes my eyes water slightly and I stumble, but don’t fall. This isn’t what he wants. He doesn’t want me to oppose him; he’s told me that so many times before, and that’s why my second home is that abandoned fucking hole in the ground.

  I wish I had the will sometimes to not fight him and just let him kill me, but these boys – who would fight for them if I lay down and died?

  “Now, I’m going to ask you again,” he says in an even tone. “Did you just ask me a question?”

  I put my fingers gingerly to my lip and wipe away the blood from the small cut. He’s never hit me hard enough to draw blood before, because he cares about my outside appearance. I use my tongue to quickly lick away the copper tasting drops still lingering on the corner of my mouth before I answer him.

  “Yes. Where is the boy?”

  His mouth tightens into an angry line as he stares down at me. He should expect this from me by now when it comes to the welfare of the children, and I find myself wondering if he left his common sense out in the woods as well.

  “Let’s get a couple of things straight here,” he says, after letting out a deep sigh. “First of all, he’s not your son. Neither of them are; you’re just the stupid little bitch I chose to play mommy to them. What I decide to do with them, or to them, is really not your fucking concern. Remember that.”

  Pater crosses his arms over his chest and the grin begins to return. He likes
to use words to cut me down; he always said that words would leave a deeper cut than any blade. Words – the ones spoken to inflict harm – will stay with you much longer than any scar worn on the skin.

  If Pater is anything, he’s a master of cutting deeply with his words.

  Don’t let him do this while you still don’t know where Eloy is.

  “Secondly,” he says, dropping his arms to his sides, “You can’t keep secrets from me. Even when you think you’ve got everything figured you, you should know better by now. Which begs a question. You haven’t been up here alone, have you? No amount of that shit you sprayed can hide it from me, which means I’ll give you an option. Even though you don’t deserve it, even though he doesn’t deserve it, tell me. Who’s keeping me company in bed tonight? You, or the nosy little fuck that can’t do as he’s told?”

  “Neither,” I reply, my voice wavering slightly. Fuck. He’ll know he’s getting to me now.

  Pater runs a hand irritably over his face before he chuckles. “I don’t know why you think you have a say in the matter. Now, either you pick, or I will.”

  I let out an unhappy sigh as I turn and begin to walk back toward his bedroom. He knows that, given the choice, I’ll always place myself in harm’s way to spare them.

  “Not so fast,” he says, in a tone that stops me in my tracks.

  I don’t turn to face him immediately because I’m worried about what it is he wants before he subjects me to the level of correction he feels I deserve for talking back to him. For standing my ground against a tyrant and exercising a basic human right that I was stripped of the moment I willingly walked through his door, because I agreed to be less than human. I agreed to be this empty marionette to do his will and now, after all this time, I find myself rejecting the idea, even though it’s too damn late.

  “Yes, Pater?” I ask quietly as I finally turn my body toward the wall. It still can be seen as an act of defiance because I’m not facing him completely, but it’s enough of a submission that he won’t add anything extra to the punishment he’s ready to bestow upon me.

  “I want you to do a few things for me before I do a few things to you,” he says, a wicked smile starting to spread across his lips.

  “Yes, Pater?” I inquire again curiously. This isn’t normally how he does these things, and the worry that has washed over me is being overshadowed with doubt and wonder.

  “Let’s call this little game A List of Tasks. For each task you complete, I’ll go a little easier on you tonight. Of course, if you complete them all, you’re still going to be punished, but not as severely. Questions?” he asks.

  I don’t respond. Not verbally, because I’ve already talked myself into enough shit to have to add more to drown in. Instead, I shake my head and nervously begin to wring my hands while I wait for his first task.

  “My God. If only you knew how beautiful you are when you just stand there with your mouth shut,” he remarks with a wistful sigh. “Alright. Task number one; it’s going to answer your question.”

  My question?

  “The first thing I want you to do is go out into the woods behind the house. Find the mess the boy made and clean it up. I want it so spotless out there you’d never know that anything other than animals shit between those trees. When you’re done, you come back up and we’ll talk about your next task.”

  I run past him and damn near fall down the stairs. If he wants me to cover Eloy’s tracks, then chances are he’s still alive. He may be bruised, battered, and beaten, but he’s still alive and now I have the chance to be the mother he deserves and help him.

  But I can’t shake the chuckle Pater let out when I ran past him, and I know this task won’t be as simple as finding some shit to clean up.

  Whatever it is I find is going to break my heart, mind, and soul.

  Chapter Six

  The most damning thing about what Pater has set as his first task is that I know it will easily break me if something has happened to Eloy. If I’m broken, I can no longer fight for them. I don’t care about myself; I am disposable because I’m not the first wife he’s had, just the one that has survived the longest.

  But for Eloy and Vaughn to be left alone in his care again until he decides he wants another wife is more than I can take. It’s a weight on my shoulders that’s been threatening to crush me for quite some time now, and while my foundation may be slowly crumbling, I will not collapse until they’re safe.

  I’m my own worst enemy in all of this. My constant fear of failing the children is starting to undo me, and the nights I spend in the oubliette would be much more bearable if I didn’t have them to worry about.

  I can see him now as I quicken my pace, the grass crushing beneath my feet. I can see Eloy standing naked, almost completely hidden in the brush that leads into the woods. He has marks on his back, and from what I can tell, they aren’t severe.

  “Eloy!” I call out as I run faster.

  His body is shaking; I can see it now the closer I get to him. The marks on his back look like a series of scratches, but I can plainly see where he has been lashed with a switch. I call his name again, but he doesn’t turn to face me. Instead, he balls his hands at his sides and lets out a sob.

  “I’m here now, it’s okay,” I promise as I finally reach him and put a hand gently on his shoulder. I guide him into the woods to keep our conversation hidden from any eyes that may be watching. Even though I know we can’t be heard out here, I also know he’ll use our body language to deduce whatever the fuck he wants, and punish us accordingly.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to. I’m sorry,” he wails miserably.

  “Nothing we do here is by choice; you know that. Whatever you’ve done, it was because you were made to. I’m just happy you’re okay,” I say, trying my best to comfort him, but the fact that he’s shaking his head and still refusing to face me destroys any hope that Pater hasn’t already defiled him.

  I push my way through the brush as I move around to the front of him. His teeth are grinding together and he lowers his face so that I don’t see how much he currently resembles a wounded animal.

  “What did you do, Eloy?” I ask gently. I place a hand on either side of his face and pull him toward me. His body is covered with lash marks, and the haunting sound of Pater’s malicious laughter when he reentered the house begins to taunt my memories.

  “It’s okay. I promise. I’m here to help you. I’ll fix whatever you’ve done; you just need to tell me where to go, and I’ll fix it.”

  “I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to, but he made me do it,” he repeats desperately. What could he have been forced to do that’s rendered him a babbling mess? I would imagine Laura was already dead by the time they had dragged her out here.

  Wasn’t she?

  “He made me fuck her. He made me do it. I didn’t want to and when I refused he started to whip me. Then he told me—” his voice broke into another anguished sob as he buried his face in my hair and finally wrapped his arms around me.

  “What did he say? He can’t hear us right now, and I swear to you I won’t repeat it. What did he say, Eloy?” I press gently as I run a hand softly over his hair.

  Eloy takes a small series of deep breaths to try and calm himself, and it works long enough for him to tell me what the price of his refusal was.

  “He said that if I didn’t fuck her, he would make me fuck you. He said he would make Vaughn watch us and then he would kill us all. I’m sorry,” he says, as he resumes his uncontrollable sobbing.

  “Don’t cry. It’s okay, I promise it’s okay.”

  I feel a rage starting to intensify deep within. Pater’s sexual appetites are unrivaled and his devious words are always enough to get us to do what he wants, but doing this to Eloy – he’s crossed a fucking line, and he knows it. That’s why he made me come out here; not to clean up a physical mess but to fix a psychological one he knows I don’t have control over.

  “Listen very closely to me right now. Eloy? Look a
t me, please,” I say, stepping back and gently removing his arms from around me.

  He uses the back of his hand to wipe the tears away from his face, but does as he’s requested and locks eyes with me. My heart hurts for him when I look into those beautiful brown eyes. They’re so devoid of any meaning - so dead and hopeless that nothing will ever bring life to them again.

  “I’m going to help you escape,” I say, pulling off my shirt. I quickly wrap it around his waist and tie it securely. “This isn’t much, but at least you won’t leave as degraded as he’s made you. Follow me.”

  He nods as we walk back toward the line that divides Pater’s property from the woods and I glance at the door.

  Empty.

  Good.

  “When I get to the door, I want you to run as fast as you can. Do you understand? Run away from this terrible fucking place. I’ll cover for you. I’ll tell him that you were far beyond reproach and I killed you as a mercy. I’ll tell him I buried your body under Laura’s. He’ll believe me. He has to believe me.”

  With as much as I hate to admit it to myself, killing Eloy would actually be the kinder mercy than letting him run away. He has no chance of a normal life outside of Pater’s rule and he won’t know where to go, but I have to try.

  “Come on, this is our only shot at this. Don’t worry about any of us, just fucking run as soon as I get to the door, okay?”

  He nods and slowly begins to follow me toward the back of the house. As soon as I reach the door, I turn slightly and nod, but just as Eloy begins to run, an upstairs window opens.

  “That’s a bad fucking idea, kid.”

  Nausea quickly overcomes me as I glance up and see Pater at the upstairs window. What makes my blood turn cold, what makes Eloy stop running, is when we see he has Vaughn in the window with him.

  “Come on up. It looks like we need to have a family meeting. And you should probably get a move on. I’m getting hard just thinking of all the possibilities,” he says, giving me a menacing smile.

 

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