13 Night Terrors

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13 Night Terrors Page 30

by D A Roach et al.


  “Jenna? Tabitha?” Both of their faces were frozen, and then their faces were replaced by a green icon. Shit. Dropped the call. “Mark, I lost them. Can you help me get them back?”

  Mark came over and worked to reconnect me. “It’s down again. Sorry. We’ll try again in a bit.” As he said that, the lights flickered and then cut off. The room filled with shouts and whistles.

  “Now it’s a party!” Jack hollered.

  “I’ll get the candles,” Brad said, heading back into the kitchen.

  “I better help in case you get lost trying to find them,” Mark teased.

  “Bring more booze!” Jack called after them, sending the girls into a fit of laughter. “Time for some spooky stories!”

  Mark and Brad returned with several large candles they set along the coffee table and mantel. The fire in the hearth also contributed to illuminating the room.

  “Come on, Jessica.” Mark motioned with his head for me to follow him to the couch. “Can’t do anything till the power is back up.”

  And I couldn’t edit my book without knowing what Jenna needed me to do with my secondary characters. I came to the couch we had shared earlier and snuggled against the pillow, far from Mark, who sat against the large pillow on the other end, stretched out his legs, and turned toward me with a soft smile. He made no move to close the space between us, and I was thankful for that.

  “Finish that drink, sweetheart. The stories are funnier with a little sauce in the system,” Jack encouraged. The blonde obeyed and tipped the glass back, finishing her drink. I was glad I opted for tea since I was already exhausted. Alcohol would have pushed me over the edge. “Good girl. Did you know these woods around here are haunted?”

  Candice laid down across the couch she and Jack shared, her head in his lap and her legs curled in close. “You lie.”

  Jack ran his fingers through her long, sleek hair. “No, it’s true. The tale is about a family that went hiking in the area. The couple and their four children had been vacationing in the nearby vicinity and went out to enjoy a day exploring the forest. The parents were confident hikers with a good sense of direction, and they cautioned their children to stay together. They also paired them up to look out for each other, ensuring their safety.”

  Brad stood and left the room, taking a candle with him.

  “Or so they thought,” Jack continued. “But their youngest strayed from the group, and the brother who was in charge of watching after him had let his family down.” Jack sipped at his amber drink. “By the time they realized the youngest was missing, he had travelled too far off the path and could not be found. The mother was sick with grief and refused to leave the area. She spent every waking moment searching the woods for her child. The father and his remaining sons sold their home and built a cabin in these woods, where they lived and continued to search for their child. And even though the remaining family members still had each other, a bitterness grew between the son who had failed to watch over the youngest and his mother and oldest sibling.”

  My eyes felt impossibly heavy, and despite the dramatic tale Jack shared, I found it hard to concentrate on his words.

  “He returned a year later but was no longer the innocent child. No, what returned was something more sinister, blood hungry, and…”

  Sleep finally won and pulled me under.

  I heard muffled whimpers and the sound of creaking wood. I fought to push the fog of sleep aside and will my eyes open. My head felt like it weighed a million pounds, but I managed to get it upright and opened my eyes. The blonde girl sat across from me, hands tied to the arms of the wooden chair she sat in, a gag muffling her cries. She looked terrified. Her mascara had smeared onto her cheeks from tears that had ruined her once-flawless makeup. Her eyes darted to my left, and I followed them to find Candice bound and gagged, still asleep in a similar chair. My hands pulled at the restraints that held me, and I found I was tethered in a similar fashion as the others.

  The room had no visible windows or doors. White painted cement blocks made up the walls and met the gray concrete floor. Large galvanized industrial lights hung by the ceiling, casting violent bright light against the reflective stark walls. The power was back on, but at this point, that didn’t matter. Book deals and stalled cars took a back seat to escaping imprisonment. How long had I been out? And where the hell were we? They must have drugged us, but why? My mind went to dark places, considering their motives.

  “I’ll grab the first one,” a familiar voice said. Jack emerged wearing a black rubber apron. “Well, well, well. Look who woke up. Did you have a nice snooze, my love?”

  It was pointless to try and communicate with the gag in my mouth. I glared at Jack.

  “Since you both are awake, I have a dilemma. Which of you do I pick to go first?” He walked over and traced a finger down the side of my face. “Personally, I like brunettes. If I had any confidence that you wouldn’t try to run off or slit my throat, I’d consider keeping you as my own.” I tried to keep the emotion and fear from crossing my face. “Would you like that? Would you like to be mine and do whatever I ask of you?” I didn’t make a sound, only glared at him. “It’s been over a year since we’ve kept one.” He tapped his forefinger to his lips. “Something to consider.”

  He walked toward the blonde, who sobbed hysterically. “Yikes, you are a mess. You’ve pissed yourself and are blubbering like a child.” He walked over to a hallway behind a wall. “Brad, you picked a real winner here!” he shouted. “Misty’s gone and pissed herself, and I’m not cleaning it up. That’s on you.” Jack came over and stood between Misty and me. “Look, I think it’s best if I do this the fair way.”

  The sound of a whirring saw echoed off the walls. Misty screamed, though it didn’t do much good with the gag. My own fears bubbled to the surface, and I could no longer contain them. Tears fell from my eyes. Jack looked up and closed his eyes to listen. “The saw…” He looked at me and smiled. “That’s for afterwards.”

  Afterwards? After what?

  Brad came around the corner. “What are you going on about?”

  “Your chick pissed herself.” Jack pointed at the blonde.

  “Shit.” Brad shook his head. “Help me get her back. We’ll hose her down. Then Trey can take her first.”

  “Well, I was gonna eeny, meeny, miny, moe to see who the winner was, but fine, we’ll take Pissy Misty back.” Jack chuckled and walked past Candice, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head upright. “How much did you put in her drink? She’s seriously deep under.” He released her hair, and her head fell limply to the side.

  “Same as the others. She must be a lightweight.” Brad walked behind Misty and tipped her chair back, making her erupt in a noisy protest. “Jack, grab the bottom.”

  Jack grabbed the legs of the chair where Misty’s legs were tied down. She fought against the straps that bound her, but her efforts were in vain. The two carried her behind the wall.

  A moment later, I heard the sound of water and Misty’s howls. They laughed at her upset, and although I didn’t know Misty, I felt sad for her. Eventually the water stopped, and Brad returned with the empty wooden chair. He dried it with a towel and sat down on it, sitting between Candice and me.

  Misty begged and pleaded. I couldn’t make out her exact words, but the emotion and desperation in her voice painted a vivid picture.

  Brad stared at me in silence.

  A drill roared to life. What the hell was going on back there? Misty’s sounds of urgency and terror increased. Her horrified screams heard above the mechanical sound became the macabre soundtrack to this fucking nightmare. My head shook as I envisioned what they were doing to Misty.

  “They are getting her adrenaline going,” Brad explained. “Trey prefers it that way—kinda like a drug.”

  Who the hell was Trey?

  Candice stirred in the chair across from me. Her eyes blinked as she became more awake and aware of her surroundings. And the moment she understood the grave s
ituation we both were in, her eyes grew wide with panic.

  “Hey, look who’s up!” Brad remarked.

  “Brad!” Mark yelled from the other room.

  Brad stood and headed toward the hallway. The drill sounded again, and this time Misty’s tortured sounds were joined by Candice’s shrieks of fear as the shock of her situation became evident.

  The drill stopped, and the men’s indistinct voices could be heard. Brad rounded the corner, hurried past us, and ascended a wooden staircase behind me. Candice stared after him. When the door closed, her eyes found mine, and in that single glance, I knew she wanted to attempt to escape while the men were preoccupied. But how? I wiggled each of my limbs to see if any of them could be freed with ease. My left wrist had the most slack so I worked to see if I could free it. Candice worked on her ropes without much success.

  The sickening sounds of gore and pain coming from the other room would forever haunt my dreams, if I made it out of here alive. When I made it out alive. I needed to focus and not lose hope.

  Misty’s screams sounded weaker, and I knew she would soon be dead. I hated thinking that way, but at some point you realize death is imminent, and you just want it to take hold, do its thing and be done with it, stop prolonging the inevitable.

  The door atop the stairs behind me must have opened since Candice froze and shot a side glance my way. Two sets of footsteps descended the wooden steps. I couldn’t see anything from my position, but Candice began to tremble, transfixed on whomever or whatever was behind me. I tried again to turn and see what had her terrified, but the restraints held me so I couldn’t.

  I smelled it before I saw it—the stomach-turning smell of rot and decay. Candice’s eyes tracked to the left, and finally Brad came into view, holding a metal leash. I followed the metal chain from Brad’s hand to where it attached to a collar secured around a tall, emaciated creature’s neck. Its profile resembled a human, a very pale human, yet it moved like a feral and hungry tiger stalking its prey. Was that chain enough to hold him? As if it could read my thoughts, the beast turned toward me with a threatening glance. Now I understood what had made Candice so terrified. The demonic white face stared at me with all black eyes. Its sunken in face had no visible nose, an elongated chin, and its lips were cracked as though it hadn’t had a drink in years. The thin, muscular creature slowed its pace behind Brad as it took interest in us. The beast put its spindly finger in its mouth and bit down hard in a rapid repetition until a current of blood flowed down its chin.

  Brad noticed and pulled the chain with force, commanding his control over it. “Trey, enough! Mark and Jack are waiting for you in the other room. Everything’s prepared.” The beast lurched forward and licked at his crimson-covered hand, where one bloody finger was now missing its tip.

  Brad led the foul thing away, and Candice slumped forward and began crying. She needed to keep fighting—we both did. Moving my jaw and tongue in different directions helped loosen the gag. If Candice worked on her restraints and one of us managed to get free, we’d be able to untie the other person and fight against these insane people.

  My gag loosened enough that I could move it away with my tongue. “Candice, look at me,” I pleaded quietly.

  She slowly raised her head. Her eyes were red and swollen, snot dripping from her nose she was unable to wipe away.

  “Listen, we have to stay calm and positive. Can you work on your ties?” I asked.

  She nodded and began trying to loosen them by moving her legs and arms. The sounds emanating from the other room were horrifying, but Misty did not last long once the creature was taken to the back. Her cries were replaced with the sounds of ripping flesh and blood splashing the floor.

  Brad returned and froze at the sight of me and the gag that hung loosely around my neck. “Hey, wait a second.” He shook his finger at us, circled around us, inspecting our restraints. “You two are trying to get out of here.” He shook his head. “Not cool. Two of you are enough to keep Trey set for two weeks.” He checked my arm and leg restraints, tightening them to the point of pain. He didn’t bother with the gag. “Better take you back before you two work out a plan against us.” He grabbed the chair with Candice on it, tilted it back on two legs, and dragged it toward the horror room. Candice thrashed and screamed while I shouted and pleaded with Brad to stop and leave her be.

  “Please, Brad. You don’t have to do this! You are better than them. Let us go, and we won’t tell a soul.” He dragged her away. “Brad!” I yelled louder, but it was no use. He returned a few minutes later with the empty wooden chair and sat across from me. Candice cried out repeatedly while I worked to remain strong in front of these killers. “Brad, are you all brothers?”

  He nodded.

  “I saw how Mark treated you. He can be a real jerk sometimes,” I sympathized.

  He didn’t say anything, only stared at the floor and fiddled with his hands.

  “You know they do it out of jealousy.” This caught his attention. He looked at me and leaned closer, holding on to my every word. “It’s clear, at least to an outsider like myself. You have the most power and influence in this group, and they know it. They are scared of letting you have that much power, so they hold you back.”

  Brad nodded as he began to see it my way. It didn’t matter that I had filled his head with lies; it only mattered that he believed them.

  One of the brothers called out to him, but Brad didn’t reply. He appeared to be processing my words.

  “Brad! Dammit. What’s taking so long? Bring her back.” Jack came into the room, covered in blood. He looked annoyed at his brother.

  Brad stood in front of me in a protective stance. “Not this one. I’m keeping her for myself. Trey only needs two, not three.”

  “Brad, you don’t get to keep them. Only Mark is allowed to do that,” Jack reminded him in a condescending tone.

  Brad straightened himself and stood taller, ready to challenge Jack, when Mark ran from around the corner covered in blood. “Jack! I need help! Trey’s choking!” Mark hurried back to the horror room. Jack followed behind him while Brad stayed with me.

  As soon as Brad and I were alone, he started to undo my restraints. “I have a large room, big enough for the both of us to live comfortably. You’ll have to be tied up at first, but in time you’ll learn to obey me, and then you’ll be allowed more freedom.” He held my arms tight behind my back and escorted me up the wooden stairs. “Mark’s been the only one to keep girls, but I claimed you first, and that makes you mine.”

  There was no way I would stay in this house with these monsters. I reached the top step and kicked my leg back with all my might. Brad’s grip on my arm wasn’t enough to keep him from falling down the staircase.

  I ran for the nearest door but found it locked. I tried several others, also locked. Finally, I tried the back door and found it unlocked. I ran out into the rainy night and found my car parked beside the cabin I had seen earlier. Sprinting toward it, I didn’t dare turn around to see the source of the fast footsteps following and the curses yelled my way. I already knew they belonged to Brad. Thankfully, the car was unlocked. I climbed in and locked the doors, searching for the keys. My hands shook from the high dose of adrenaline pumping through my body. The rearview mirror showed my pursuer approaching the car. I pulled the visor down, and the keys fell into my lap. I shoved the key into the ignition and cranked it forward. The engine made a grinding noise but wouldn’t turn over. I tried again and pushed on the gas pedal in hopes it would catch, but it only sputtered.

  Boom! Boom! Boom!

  Brad pounded on my window. “Open the door, Jessica! Get out of the fucking car.” He jiggled the door handle and continued pounding on the window. “You were different than the others. You saw me for who I am.” He shook his head as he stared at me.

  Please, God, let this engine turn over.

  “But they were lies, weren’t they? You lied to me, and I fucking hate you for it!” he yelled at me. “We could have been s
o happy together.”

  “Go away! Leave me alone,” I yelled and tried the engine again and again and again, until Brad smashed a big stone through my driver’s side window and reached in to snatch me.

  I screamed and hit at the arms trying to extract me. The light in the rustic cabin turned on, distracting Brad a moment, long enough for me to reach beneath my seat and wrap my fingers around the handle I sought. I pulled out the Cobra weeding tool my mother had stashed beneath my seat on my first long-distance car trip and struck Brad in the temple. His face fell as blood spurted out of the wound. I continued striking his body until he collapsed in a bloody heap. Keeping the Cobra close, I opened the car door and ran for the dense woods.

  “Come back here!” New voices called after me. “Brad! My baby, what has she done to you?”

  I didn’t dare look back at the source of the feminine voice.

  I raced forward, tripping and falling along the way but staying out of sight until I reached the road. The world around me was beginning to signal the start of a new, and hopefully better, day. I huddled down in the dense foliage near the road shoulder and waited for a vehicle to drive past. I don’t know how long I sat and waited, but eventually a truck came by and pulled over at the sight of me.

  The trucker was an older man. “Are ya hurt?” He looked me up and down, wearing a concerned look.

  “No. But can you take me to the police?” I looked down and saw Brad’s blood splattered across my shirt. “Please?”

  “Climb in.” He introduced himself as Frank and handed me a small towel to dry off with, peppering me with questions. “How’d you get out here?” and “Where do you live?” were just a couple he’d asked me, though I was thankful he never asked what happened or how I came to be splattered in blood. Frank drove me to the police station, where I told my tale to the local authorities.

  The police officer, Officer James, took detailed notes regarding our imprisonment and sent out a search party to the Tabott Hill property. Officer James said he knew of the Emory family.

 

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