by Kim Faulks
How long had I been out?
My breath fogged the dirty window as hopelessness circled like a predator. "If you let me go, I won't say anything. I won't go to the police. I won't say a word to anyone, I swear."
The beating of my heart was too fast. Still I waited for an answer. Please. Please let me go. I left the wintery view and turned back to my cage, to the dust covered floor and the stained, striped mattress.
"Please, Belle. The story is important."
I swiped my eyes with my thumb, feeling the slick tears glide away. I couldn't breathe in this damn dress. I couldn't think. I yanked the material and reached for the collar.
"You look so beautiful standing there, you know? Your scowl matches your dress. The moon and the night, that's what you remind me of. Haunting, filled with mystery. He's going to fall in love with you, I just know he will."
"He?"
Mark never answered. Mark. If that even was his name. His full red lips were those of an angel, or a seductive devil. He reached to pat the filthy mattress. "Belle. The story."
I glanced toward the door, eying the pitted knob.
"Don't bother. It's locked. There's no way out of here. Even if you did get out, we're surrounded by the forest. Please, don't run, Belle. Don't make me set the dogs free."
His quiet voice carried all the venom of a rattlesnake. I gripped the brittle wood of the window frame and turned to the grounds. My gaze followed the green spikes all the way to the horizon. I'd never make it. Even if I could get past him and the hounds. With no matches, or food, or water, I'd die within a week.
The thudding of his hand on the bed drew my gaze. The floor felt cold to my feet as I crept toward the bed and perched on the edge.
"You might be familiar with the story I'm about to tell. Maybe not, though. I guess it's changed a little over the years. You see, people want to believe in the notion of good. They want to believe it's always the ending, no matter how dark the road is to get there. People want to believe that love conquers all. But, you and I know that's a lie, isn't it?"
He was waiting for me to agree, to give him absolution for what he'd done to me. He could go to fucking hell.
"Once, there was a man who lost his wife to a riding accident." Mark’s gaze slid down my body. "She was his sun and his moon. She was the air he breathed. He wanted nothing more than to spend his life with her and raise their three daughters in a life only the rich could afford. But when he lost his wife, his whole world fell apart."
I tried to find the connection to why I was here, but his words made no sense. I shivered as the cold seeped into my soles.
"His daughters were a joy to behold. They filled his days and staved away the lonely nights. But they were used to a life of luxury, especially the older two, Beatrice and Selene. Those two thought themselves above everyone else, including the youngest of the three, Belle. You see, Belle was different. She was a quiet slip of a girl. Content with dancing, singing, and being the apple of her father's eye. The two other daughters were green with envy. Not just because she was beautiful, but because she put others’ needs before her own. So, when their father's merchant ships came under attack and the family faced financial ruin, the two older girls sank into a pit of depression, along with their father."
The tale conjured memories of when I was a kid, sitting on a threadbare sofa watching a cartoon re-run. I shifted my gaze to the window. Evergreens filled the view like some outdated Seventies wallpaper. I had to make the connection here, and try to figure out how to get out of this damn mess. Was this an attempt to collect a ransom? If this was, he picked the wrong person. The longer I thought on the situation, the more space it occupied in my mind.
Mark's voice was the only anchor to this room. "You see, he had no choice. His daughters were growing fast. Beatrice and Selene were already courting, and Belle had stars in her eyes when she started seeing a young hunter. He feared he was no longer of use. He had no money, no means to care for his children. So their father was convinced his daughters would be happier without him. So, one night he packed his bag and left."
I swallowed, captured by Mark's words.
"He rode for days and nights, searching for a beast big enough to spear his body and spill his blood. And he did, Belle. He found the beast to do just that. One look and the beast made him an offer. It was an offer of happiness, of heart’s desires. In a moment of weakness, their father took the beast's offer. He dropped and slept, curled around the base of a massive pine tree. When he woke in the morning, he looked upon the face of his dead wife. You see, nothing in this life is fair Belle, not death, not life, not consequences. Not being drugged after a free ride on a lonely stretch of road."
My stomach clenched. A vicious howl tore through the floorboards. I felt the vibration through the floor, raising the hair on my arms. The tortured cry for help spiked the erratic beat of my heart. My nails buckled under my grip on the stained mattress. I searched Mark's eyes for fear, but there was none. Sparks danced around his black pupils. Excitement flushed his cheeks.
"He knows you're here. He's been waiting for so long, and so have we. But, I have to finish my story. I have to make you understand why we brought you here. You see, Belle woke that morning to find her father gone. He left no note, nothing to speak of his return. She knew the sadness that had plagued him since the loss of his wife, and now the loss of their land and possessions were too great a burden. Belle feared she'd lost him forever. She set off with her hunter to find him. The young man was fast on his steed and good with a sword. Even though her father had traveled most of the night, they found him."
Another crash sounded from somewhere below. The vibration tore through the floorboards and drilled into my toes. Mark wrenched his head to the door and a small moan slipped from his lips. I could hear the tension in his voice now, a tremor that hadn't been there before.
"Where was I? That's right. Belle and her hunter found her father. His cold body was not just wrapped around the pine tree, but melded into it. The roots had pierced his body before plunging into the earth. So there was no hope of taking him home to bury his body. But when her hunter saw his grief-stricken Belle, he knew he had to try. He drew his sword and hacked into the tree trunk. Something terrible came howling from the forest at a speed faster than any horse could run. He dropped his sword, knowing that one swing would end, not just his life, but his beautiful Belle’s. The beast that crashed through the trees to stop in front of them was bigger than any man he'd ever seen. A hulking mountain of muscle that could tear a man in two. One look at the hunter's beloved Belle and the beast uttered a word that shattered him.
‘Mine’. You see, for the price of forever, her father pledged the life of his youngest daughter, knowing she would be the only one who cared he was gone."
Mark reached out to touch my hand. The movement took me by surprise. I wrenched my fingers backward. In a whisper, he said, "He sold her. Sold her to a beast for the grand old price of death. Can you believe that? He was too damn weak to do the deed himself."
He shook his head, as though unable to understand his own tale. When he started again, his voice was filled with torment. "The beast strode over and lifted Belle, kicking and screaming, onto his shoulders. The hunter was helpless. Without his beloved, he was nothing. But, even if he sacrificed himself, there'd be no hope of getting his Belle back. So he fell to his knees and begged the beast for the impossible, one life in exchange for another. If the beast wanted a Belle, then the hunter would find him one. He would search the roads, the taverns, and every cottage from here to eternity, to capture every Belle he could find, in exchange for the one the beast held."
The air left my lungs. My mind went blank. This sick tale of love and loss swirled in my head. None of it made sense. I slid from the bed and my feet skidded on the dusty floor. Mark's haunted gaze never left me as I stumbled backwards, to the wall.
"I don't understand what this has to do with me. Why am I here, Mark? Is it money? Do you think if you drag me
here that someone is going to pay you to let me go? Is that it?"
He never answered, just sat sideways on that filthy bed, holding me in his tormented gaze. I shifted my focus away. "Stop looking at me like that. Why won't you answer me? Why won't you tell me why I'm here?"
He shook his head. "I just told you, Belle. I—"
"Stop calling me that! My name is Anna!" I balled my fists and hit the wall as my scream ripped through my throat, leaving a scald. I was losing it, unraveling from the inside. The garret room gave me nowhere to run. I spun, staring at the chipped walls, thick from layers of built-up paint. I was caged like an animal.
A feral howl echoed from underneath me, and I whimpered with the sound. "Please, my name is Anna. Just let me go... just, let me go."
The layers of paint blurred into one. Thunderbolt after thunderbolt cracked inside the room, echoing from my blows. The creak from the bed had my mind reeling and the voice behind me shook the terror free.
"Please, Belle. You have to understand that I never wanted this. I have no choice here."
I spun at his words. "What are you saying? You do have a fucking choice here. What you're doing is wrong, Mark. It’s wrong, and making up some fucking story to make yourself feel better about it isn't going to make it right. Just let me go, please. I have no money, I have no family. Isn't that what you wanted to hear? No one is going to miss me. I have no one left... I have no one."
Through my blurred vision, I saw him nod and stand. He rounded the end of the bed, heading for me. "I know, Belle. I knew the moment we stopped by the side of the road for you. I knew the minute you climbed into the car with your worn shoes and your bereft expression. It's time now. I've told you all I can. I've tried to help you understand."
"You haven't told me anything. You've told me some made up children’s story I don't understand. I'm not your Belle. I'm Anna, and I want to go now." I looked toward the window. "If you let me go, I'll take my chances out there. I'll take my chances with the dogs."
Mark reached for my face. The wall gave me nowhere to move. I whimpered and turned my face from him. His touch followed the slippery trail of my tears to hover on the edge of my jaw. "He's going to love you. You’re different from the others. I just know you're the one."
He trailed his fingers along my jaw to encircle my neck. "It's time now, time I took you to him."
"No."
I clenched a fist and swung, aiming blindly. The blow caught him on the shoulder. One word resounded in my head. Run. I lunged for the door. My feet left the floor as Mark swung, using my own momentum against me. His hands were vicious, gouging my breast with one hand and gripping the back of my neck with the other. There was nothing more I could say. Nothing that would make him understand.
"Are you going to be good? Or do I have to shackle you?"
I trembled with his words and shook my head. I forced the whisper past my stinging throat. "I'll be good."
His grip on my neck tightened, pulling me from the wall. My bare feet made no sound on the floorboards as Mark led me around the end of the bed and toward the door. How many women had suffered this exact moment? How many had felt my sense of fear and abandonment? My tears slid freer now, thinking of the many pairs of bare feet that walked these same floorboards. How many women had wondered these same things?
Mark gripped the battered brass knob and twisted. The door slid back with a click. I wrenched my gaze to him. The bastard had lied. The door had been unlocked all along. What else had he lied about? The door opened with a creak. I stepped out onto a balcony, staring up at the broken chandelier, hanging lopsided, then scanned the many rooms on the other side of the stairs.
I glimpsed the drop below. We must’ve been at least two floors up. A decent fall, but was the distance survivable? I eyed the edge of the balcony, measuring the distance from where I stood as the door clicked shut behind me. This might be my only chance to escape. The pain would be worth it. I let my body drop like a stone, despite knowing the fall would be a hard one. The dress cushioned my hip, but the garment did nothing for my head as I hit the floor.
"Dammit. Why faint here?" Mark snarled above me.
From the sound of his breath, I followed his movements as he squatted over me, sliding one arm under my leg and the other at the hollow of my back. Air replaced the hard floor against my spine as Mark lifted me. My hip knocked against his stomach, my shoulder nestled against his chest. I dropped my right arm from his hold to reach for the floor. The faint whiff of strawberries tickled my nose as he carried me along the balcony.
I controlled my breaths, keeping them slow and my lips parted. Each jolt of his gait made the stampede inside my chest surge. Could he hear the sound? Thud after thud, I waited for a chance to move. I clenched my fist, praying this would work. I opened my eyes and swung, aiming for his nose.
My blow caught him on the cheek instead. Mark’s eyes slammed shut in response and his arms fell from underneath me. Pain flared in my hip as I struck the wooden railing. I clawed for a grip and whimpered at the sight of the floor so far below before I was yanked backwards. "You stupid fucking woman, you'll get yourself killed."
I held onto the pine bannister until my elbows popped with the strain and kicked, catching him in the stomach with my heel. The steps were all I saw as I raced down the stairs.
CHAPTER TWO
A roar ripped through the house, shattering the silence. Each stair was a blur as I raced down one set and lunged across the landing to hurtle down the next. Thunder followed in my wake, chasing me like a tornado. I didn't have to look back to know it was him.
My steps raced my heartbeat as I headed for the bottom. The thick dust was soft, like powder under my feet. I tried to turn at the base and lost my footing. I clawed the railing, searching for a hold as my ankle buckled.
Something in my ankle crunched, driving shards of agony into my leg. I gripped my shin, swallowing the pain, and crawled.
"Don't move, Belle." Mark called out above me. "I'm coming. Just don't move."
My grip on the floor left gouges in the filth as I scrambled forward. The stairs shuddered under his booming steps. He's coming. I shoved off the ground with my good leg and once upright, tested my weight on the other. Something vicious tore into my ankle with each fumbling step I took, but I didn't stop, rounding the base of the stairs to plunge into the shadows.
"Come back Belle! There's no escaping. It's this house. You don't understand, Belle. It's this house. Don't listen to it. Don't listen to this goddamn house. Belle. Belle!" His roar ripped through the hallway. I jumped at the sound and limped as fast as I could go. The dim light lit my way as I waited for the sonofabitch to haul me back. Step after agonizing step I shuffled deeper, gripping the wall for balance.
This can’t be happening to me. This isn’t real.
I tried to shake myself awake from this nightmare, but its claws were in deep. I raised my hand, palm out, and struck my face. Fire lashed my cheek and I sucked in the musty air.
Wake up. Wake up now.
The seconds were mapped by the thudding inside my chest. I waited, shuddering in the darkness until I could think, just get away from him. I hobbled deeper into the decrepit house.
The fading light left behind an inky blackness. Vague outlines waited through a doorway. I squinted and focused on the dark room. The shadows in there seemed like a lighter shade of grey. Was this some kind of trick? I turned to glance over my shoulder, straining to hear Mark’s steps behind me.
Only silence returned, as though I’d pierced a void which stole even the smallest of sounds. My fingers trembled as my hand disappeared. Cold kissed the tips of my fingers and travelled along my palm the further I reached, until I could take no more. I yanked my hand back and gripped my skirt. Jesus, what is this place?
My ankle throbbed under my weight. I swallowed the pain and turned right, moving through a doorway. Through the faded light, I glimpsed table settings and bent to peer closer. Tatted placemats topped with plates, saucers and
dainty cups separated each seat. I reached out, fingering the moth-eaten material. The threads dissolved into a pile of ash at my touch. My stomach clenched. Needing to wipe the filth away, I moved too fast and knocked into the table. A place setting slid over the edge, shattering on the floor.
I spun toward the doorway, straining to hear over the thunder of my heart, listening for the footsteps that would mean Mark had found me. Instead of heavy tread, music drifted from nowhere. The faint notes of a violin grew stronger the longer I listened. The haunting tune wrenched a sob from my chest. I shuffled backward, knocking into a wall, and clapped my hands over my ears as something crunched under my foot. Pain shot through my heel. I hissed and jerked my foot up. A tiny fragment jutted from the middle of my heel. I probed the shard, and yanked the piece free.
"Wake up." I whispered. "Please, just wake up."
What little I could see blurred. Hot tears slid down my cheeks as my knees buckled. I hit the floor with a thud and slapped my hands over my ears. Through the cracks between my fingers, the music wormed its way into my ears. My heart fired. I was lost on the rise and fall of the music. The hypnotic melody of the violin turned deeper, blending with the bass of the cello, until a man's voice wrenched me free.
"Is anyone there?"
I froze at the sound. An icy breath touched my cheek.
Don't move. I trembled, blinded by the night. I waited for a touch to follow. I could almost feel the brush of fingers. Seconds ticked by as my ankle throbbed. I kept my movements slow as I reached under the skirt to feel the joint. The flesh was hot, swollen under my touch. I winced, but dared not cry out. One thought stilled my hand.
Can you feel pain in a dream? I closed my eyes and willed the thought away. The answer would be enough to bring me undone.
"If you're there, please help me," a man whispered. The sound of his sorrow was so real I felt it pierce my breast.
"I'm here." I licked my lips. "Can you help me?"
There was no answer. But this voice wasn’t Mark’s, so I had to try again.