“Well, you got what you wanted,” I say, wiping away the tears. “She’s gone, and I’m here.”
He doesn’t answer me; all he does is stand there and watch me. At least, I think he’s watching me because I can’t see anything but that mask.
“So what now? How long are you gonna keep me here?” I ask. “Forever?”
He grunts. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“You.”
Jesus Christ. He couldn’t give a more vague answer.
I get up from the floor and turn my head, refusing to even look at him. I wish I had never fucking danced for him. I don’t give a shit about the money. It wasn’t worth sacrificing my freedom for.
“I wish you never hired me …” I mumble as he walks past me.
He briefly stops in his tracks and looks back over his shoulder at me.
“I don’t,” he says, and then he turns around and walks up the stairs.
I cross my arms over my chest, giving him the dirtiest look I can give. Frustration boils up until I can’t take it anymore. I grab the nearest pot with flowers and throw it at him in rage.
“Motherfucker!”
I don’t know what possesses me to break his shit.
Maybe the fact I lost my freedom to a man like him.
I know it’s irrational and stupid. It only makes me owe him more, and I regret it the moment it happens, but it’s too late for that now.
The pot flies straight against the wall, shattering into a million bits.
I watch him pause and turn toward the mess, not even acknowledging what I did as he grabs one of the shards and looks at it. Then he keeps walking up the stairs, ignoring me completely, the shard still in his hand. I don’t look away until he’s gone from my sight.
Suddenly, thunder roars, making me suck in a breath. I didn’t realize it was raining, but now that I look at the window, I can see the specks. I walk toward it and place my hand on the cold glass, gazing wistfully outside.
From another room, the old man comes shuffling in again. “Come with me, please,” he says.
I turn around as he’s already walking away, and for a moment, I contemplate not going with him at all … but I realize there’s no point. I’m a prisoner here now. If I run, he’ll call the cops and get me sent to prison. If I stay in this huge house, I’m still a prisoner … but at least I’ll have some luxury.
So I decide to follow him up the stairs. We go into a different corridor than the one where the man disappeared.
“What’s your name?” the man asks after a while.
“Alexis.”
“Beautiful name,” he muses, glancing over his shoulder with a smile on his face. “You can call me Winston. I’ll show you to your room.”
“My room?”
“You didn’t think I’d let you sleep on the couch, now did you?” He winks, as if he’s forgotten I’m a prisoner in this house. But I have to admit, I am surprised.
“You know … Viktor isn’t cruel. I know he seems like it from the way he acts, but there’s more to him than meets the eye.”
“Yet he’s still taking me as his prisoner.” I sigh.
“He just doesn’t know how to act … normal.”
“Yeah, I got that already. Is that why he hides behind a mask?”
The man hesitates for a moment. “Ah … Viktor is … shy.”
“Shy?” I muffle a laugh. “Yeah, right.” What a lame excuse.
“He isn’t used to having people in his house. Actually, he’s not used to seeing people at all. Except for me, of course.”
“Does he ever go out or anything?”
“He used to … but not anymore.”
I wonder how long it’s been.
And I wonder why.
But I don’t ask … He won’t answer anything with the truth anyway, so what’s the point? It’s not as if he’s going to tell me his entire history and give me the key to his soul. No, that would make escaping way too easy, and he knows it.
The man glances at me from time to time, but I just look away. I don’t want to talk to him or anyone else in this house. Especially not when it’s still so fresh.
A few lights hanging from the wall guide our way as we walk through the pitch-black house. It makes me shiver just looking around. It’s so dark and … depressing.
Thunder interrupts my train of thought, and the old man stops in front of a door. “This is it.”
He turns the key in the lock and opens it. It leads to a bedroom, which is bigger than the home I share with Alisha. My eyes can’t get enough of looking around as we walk inside. To the left is a closet and a small sink sits in the corner. In the middle is a queen-size bed with a nightstand on either side of it.
“It’s so … big,” I mutter.
“There are some clothes in the closet that you can wear if you’d like. See if anything fits. It’s all yours for as long as you stay here.”
“Clothes? How?”
“Oh, Viktor just wanted to be prepared in case someone stayed over… not that anyone ever did.” He clears his throat.
As I turn around, I notice he’s walking out the door again. “How long will I have to stay here?” I ask.
He sighs and looks at me over his shoulder. “I can’t say. It’s not up to me, unfortunately. If it were, you wouldn’t be in this position in the first place.”
“And why isn’t it up to you? Can’t you let me out?”
“I’m not the owner of this house.”
“But you know what he’s doing is wrong.”
“I know … but please don’t ask me.” He turns his back toward me. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Wait, what?” But before I get the chance to ask any more questions, he’s already walked out of the door and closed it behind him.
A lock clicks into place.
I immediately go to the door and bang on it. “Hey, you can’t lock me in here.”
“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do. Viktor wants you here, and you made the deal. You have to stay here.”
“Unlock the door. Now!” I shout.
“I can’t. I’m sorry. You’ll have to speak with him in the morning. Good night, miss.”
His footsteps die out slowly as I bang on the door—desperate to get out, desperate to be free, even if only a little. This room … At first, it was beautiful until I realized it was nothing more than a pretty prison.
After a while, I realize it’s no use, and I push myself away from the door and run toward the window. But no matter how much I jerk, it’s firmly jammed in place. Locked in on all sides … If this isn’t hell, I don’t know what is.
***
Viktor
I stare at the glass shard in my hand. When lightning strikes, the flash lets me see the beast behind the mask. It serves as a reminder of who I really am.
She’s so fucking beautiful … and she refused to follow the rules. Her resistance as I grabbed her was intoxicating, so much so that it made me want her more. No one has ever defied me like that. Not when I held them like that, with my fingers wrapped around their throat. But her eyes … her eyes told me everything I needed to know. She’s fearless. And it gives me hope.
Hope that one day, someone will be able to look at me without complete contempt.
Most fear me, but not her. She looked with curiosity … without regrets.
And I fucking loved it.
God, the moment I first saw her, I knew I wanted to have her … but I didn’t know what lengths I’d go to make it happen.
I’m a sick bastard.
She’s the girl who exchanged her own freedom to set her sister free, and I’m the man who made her cry. Who gladly agreed to keep her here instead of her sister just to make a point. Just to have an excuse to make her stay with me.
I didn’t count on her coming back. Hell, when she left, I didn’t think she’d ever want to come to my house again, not even if I paid her to do it. But then her sister came to steal something from me. Just
like that, she gave me an opportunity … and I took it.
I took it because I felt like it. Because I’m greedy. Because I can’t say no to my needs anymore.
She called me a monster … and she’s right. I am a monster.
Thunder is my only companion as I sit in my red leather chair in the darkness. Each boom another reminder of my past. I can see everything in front of me, happening all over again.
Pain.
Searing pain.
I can still feel the burn on my skin, in my hands … on my face. I can still see the scorching sun blinding me. I can still remember the need to make it all end.
All I remember is pain.
I wish it could fucking disappear.
I throw the piece of glass against the wall, crushing it to bits, and roar.
“You’ll wake up the girl if you make that much noise.” Winston walks in and grabs a broom to sweep up the mess I’ve made.
“She won’t sleep tonight,” I growl.
“You’re probably right, but still …”
“Hmpf …” I turn my head away from him and stare off into the distance.
“Viktor, are you sure this is the right thing to do?”
“I don’t give a damn.”
“She’s an innocent girl.”
“A trespasser isn’t innocent.” His whining makes me turn my head.
“She was probably only trying to stop her sister from making a huge mistake.”
“The girl already had my watch in her hand,” I say. “I doubt they’re innocent.”
“You could’ve let them go.”
“No.” My voice sounds more like a grumble than actual words, but he’s pissing me off.
“Right … If that’s how you feel …” Winston shakes his head and continues sweeping. “Well—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, will you just give it a rest?” I frown at him. “I’m not in the mood for one of your lectures tonight, Stan.”
“How many times have I told you not to call me Stan?”
“And how many times have I told you not to fucking piss me off?”
He sighs. “You could’ve called the cops.”
“She begged me not to.” I shrug. “So I listened.”
Winston narrows his eyes at me. “You know, I think you’re just bored … and in need of a friend.”
“A friend?” I laugh, but when I notice he isn’t laughing with me, I stop. “I’ve got more than enough ‘friends.’”
“I count just one … Me.”
“And it’s more than enough.”
He shakes his head at me. “Keep lying to yourself, Viktor. I know what you want.”
“Oh yeah, and what’s that?”
“You may act like an animal sometimes, but you’re still a man underneath. And a man needs affection.”
I throw him a look. “Oh, shut up, gramps.”
He lets out another sigh and puts the broom back into place after cleaning my mess. “You disappoint me, Viktor.”
“What’s new?” I muse, but I’m only saying it to say something back. I hate it when he confronts me like this.
“I know you can do better than this,” he adds. “Be nice. For once.”
I growl and turn my head away but don’t respond. I get where he’s going. I know what I did.
“Good night,” he says, as he leaves the room. “Oh, and if you’re in a better mood tomorrow, maybe you can ask her to eat breakfast with you. To make it up.”
“G’night, gramps!” I yell as he closes the door.
God-fucking-dammit.
Now, he’s made me feel guilty.
But he’s right to … and damn, do I hate it when he’s right about me.
***
Night
I’m outside, striding through the city, hiding under a hood. I’m here but not really. I know it’s a dream, but I can’t make it go away either. I’m forced to witness my own past over and over again as memories flood my mind.
A little kid drawing dragons on the floor with crayons accidentally drops one, so I bend over to pick it up. I smile as I try to give it back to him; our hands briefly touch in a moment where I’m just a man, and he’s just a boy, and we can both be at peace. But he looks up and peeks under my hood, his eyes widening and the crayon dropping from his hand. He screams and rushes off, calling for his mommy.
I keep walking, trying not to let the dagger of his screams puncture my heart.
But he isn’t the only one who stares.
As I walk through the market, people stop to stare.
They don’t just look because they’re curious … They look because they’re scared.
They hide their kids behind their hands as if seeing me will scar them for life.
Some guys make disapproving faces while others growl. A car nearly hits me as the driver focuses so much on my face that she fails to see where she was going. I barely manage to jump away, but my hood falls down, exposing my scars to the world.
Everyone around me stops in their tracks, their eyes only on me.
When I look around me, none of them feels ashamed of staring at me. But I do.
“Monster,” one of the kids yells at me, and the mother shushes him quickly … but not fast enough.
“What are you doing here, freak?” a kid says, and then laughs as he passes me on his skateboard.
Grinding my teeth, I try to walk, but another man bumps into me.
“Watch it!” he says, but when he really sees me, his eyes say everything. “S-sorry.”
“Leave me alone,” I snap.
I can’t do this anymore.
I can’t pretend everything is okay.
“Oh, my …” he mutters, still gaping at me as if I’m some sort of show.
“Stop looking at me!” I yell, shoving him.
The people around me collectively gasp.
“Mommy, he hit that man,” the kid says again.
“Don’t talk about that dangerous man,” she tells him softly, but I can still hear her.
Dangerous man.
Because that’s what I am.
My scars make me a dangerous man.
They don’t even know what I’ve done, and still, they know I’m the bad guy.
I guess it’s what I deserve.
“Yes, I’m fucking dangerous,” I growl, grabbing the man in front of me by the collar. “You want a piece of me? I’m a fucking monster, right? Look at me!” I yell. Then I throw him to the ground again. “Take a good look, everyone! That’s right; I’m a fucking monster. Now, leave me the fuck alone!” I yell.
The whole street seems to have grown quiet, except for me.
I’m breathing loudly, blood rushing through my veins as I come to the realization that nothing will ever be the same again.
My life among the people is over. They won’t accept me the way I am.
So I pull my hood back over my head and start walking, determined to live out my life in the shadows.
Like a real monster would.
Chapter 5
Alexis
Morning
I wake up with salty tears streaked across my face in a bed that smells of roses and expensive perfume. Its softness surprises me, but when I don’t hear Alisha’s snoring, I feel gutted. My stomach growls, but I turn over and bury my face in my pillow.
Closing my eyes helps me remember her, and I picture her waking up, yelling my name, and telling me to get a real job.
I smile. Then another tear escapes.
My sister’s voice resonates in my ears. Don’t you fucking cry, Alexis. Don’t fucking miss me… Just get out. She doesn’t even need to be there for me to feel her presence.
So I push myself up from the bed and brush the tears away. It’s time to accept what I’ve done and get over it. First, I need to get out of this room, and then … maybe I can find a way to get out of this house.
I wonder if he’ll keep me here forever.
If so, I’ll just have to escape.
Then again,
if he has pity me … he might set me free.
I shake my head … pity is just not my style.
I contemplate picking up the only chair in my room and throwing it at the glass, but then I remind myself that it would only land me in jail, which is the last thing I want. If I can’t escape without getting charged with something, I’ll have to figure out a way to make him release me. Play to his feelings. Yeah, that’s right. Except right now, I only want to punch his face in. But I guess that won’t do me good.
Suddenly, someone knocks on my door, and I’m pulled from my thoughts.
“Miss? Are you awake yet?”
It takes me a few seconds to reply. “Yes.”
The door is unlocked, and a familiar head pops in. “Hope you slept well.”
“Like a princess,” I say, frowning, trying not to show any emotion.
He smiles. “Good. Well, I have something for you.” He walks toward me and hands me a packet of pads and a pack of birth control pills. “I bought these just in case you needed them.”
A bit weirded out, I place them on the nightstand. “Thanks.”
He nods, turns around, and walks back to the door. “Oh, before I forget”—he turns back toward me—“I just wanted to let you know that breakfast is ready. Viktor is waiting for you downstairs.”
“Oh, he is?” I muse, raising a brow. “He can keep waiting then because I’m not coming.”
Winston clears his throat. “I’m sorry, miss, but Viktor asked that you’d have breakfast with him.”
“Good for him, but I’m not going.” I perch on my bed again. “We done here?”
Winston’s lips part but then he closes them again. His face disappears, and the door closes again, but he doesn’t lock it before I hear him walk away.
I quickly pick up the pills and take one, determined to stay on my regimen, even if it feels weird. I open the closet and search through the clothes until I find something that fits. I change my clothes and check myself out in the mirror. My makeup is smudged, so I grab a tissue and wipe away the excess. It’s not much, but it’ll have to do. If there’s one thing I don’t wanna do, it’s go out there looking defeated.
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