by Dan Thompson
“Shhh, he’s coming.”
The direct words made Rheanne shriek. Abbey quickly threw herself back from the bars. She didn’t want Stefan thinking she was up to no good. A key rattled in the lock. The squeak of the doorknob turning was cringe worthy, and then the door rattled open, like it was coming off its hinges.
Stefan entered the room, the blue haze ushering in close behind like a pet scrounging after its master.
His footsteps were over pronounced, theatrically defined. His effect rattled Rheanne. Stefan lolled over to Rheanne’s cage and laughed through the bars. She bawled a horrifying scream, which only pleased the monster more. He had his back to Abbey and she was disgusted to see that he no longer had grey hair. When they had first met, he had clearly worn a wig. Mr Montgomery - a caricature, a false identity. Abbey speculated if Rheanne and Kelly had been fooled by his lies just as she had. How many times had he donned the guise of an inconsolable and grief-stricken man to kidnap girls? Somehow, Abbey didn’t believe that the three of them there now were in fact the first.
“Leave her alone,” Abbey said. Her voice steady and affirmative. She held her eyes open wide and refused to blink. Abbey wanted to be taken seriously. She wasn’t afraid.
Stefan abruptly turned in her direction and plodded over. “He he he, what do we have here?” His breath was disgusting and vile. The air caught in Abbey’s throat and she coughed, much to her annoyance.
“Why are you doing this? Let us go.”
“Why certainly. I’m ever so sorry,” Stefan giggled, dramatically patting himself down as if searching for the key.
“I bet you think you are clever, don’t you, scaring and kidnapping young women. Make you feel like a man does it?”
“My, my. A feisty one here, we have. Hmmm.”
Abbey tried to stare him down with the dirtiest stare she could give. Why would she let him win? Stefan jumped at the cage, ambushing the bars and pressing his face through the gap. He hauled Abbey by the arm towards him.
He chortled. “Come and give me a slippery kiss.” He wiggled his tongue, saliva stringing down into her cage. She was repulsed, but she couldn’t escape his grip. With his other hand, he pressed her cheeks inwards and her teeth caught against the insides of her mouth. It felt abnormal and razor-like. Abbey yanked and pulled harder, until Stefan let go and erupted into wild and manic sniggers, which shook her to her very core.
“I’ll teach you how it works in here, shall I?”
Stefan took large strides towards Kelly’s cage. “Thought I’d forgotten about you, did you?”
He slipped back out the room for a few seconds. Abbey breathed hard, her chest felt tight. Whatever Stefan was going to do next, it was her fault. Why did she have to speak up? Rheanne had irritated her, but she was scared for her life. She wasn’t going to let Stefan antagonise the girl for kicks. Stefan returned with four glass bottles. Their milky coloured glass was stained, but Abbey didn’t have time to inspect more closely. One by one, Stefan hurled them onto the floor, where they smashed into jagged pieces. Abbey’s stomach soared with panic. The monster unlocked Kelly’s cage and dragged her out.
Abbey realised why she hadn’t noticed Kelly before. She had dark skin, which refracted the blue haze, rendering her unnoticeable. Kelly was incredibly tall, but thin, deathly so. Her ribs evident beneath her soiled blue top. Her skin looked like poor quality elastic, stretched thinly over a frail frame. Stefan had a handful of Kelly’s long black hair. It looked dishevelled and like the thistles on a broom head.
Abbey was desperate to shout out; urge, beg, solicit with all her might for Stefan to stop. Somehow, she knew it would be useless.
Kelly was bravely noiseless, even as her head was thrust sideways. Stefan - open palmed - slapped her across the face. She grunted, trying to pull herself free. Yet, Stefan had a firm grasp upon her hair.
“Such a beauty, you was. Look at you now. All bones.”
Abbey squeezed her wooden bars, wanting nothing more for them to snap under her grip so she could help Kelly. Stefan looked over at her and smiled, the edges of his lips flicked up like a malicious taunt, an extension of his evil soul.
He pulled Kelly’s face closer to his. “Walk.” He pushed Kelly over to the broken glass on the floor, but she stopped herself inches away from the first piece. Kelly was shaking her head profusely. Abbey held her breath, her mouth wide open. She held her arms out, but Abbey knew Kelly wouldn’t take them. Rheanne was still crying.
“I said walk.” Stefan didn’t need to shout, the tone was deadly.
Don’t do it.
Kelly looked over at her. Her eyes were as dark as her skin, but the whites of her eyeballs were varnished a soft yellow. She was ill. Her stare didn’t give away any fear or ailment, and her high cheekbones kept all emotion from her face. Abbey kept Kelly’s gaze. The power of unity was infectious and Abbey willed Kelly to remain strong. By keeping eye contact, maybe Abbey could help Kelly’s mind lose focus of the pain to come.
Kelly stepped forward. The cracking of the glass, although muffled by her foot, was still profound. Another step, the same sharp sound. Stefan was loving every minute. After the third step, Kelly’s lower lip quivered, and after another step, her eyes gave up the pain she must have felt.
Abbey glanced to the trickle of blood. It was thick and smooth as it slipped in between her toes. Despite her cadaverous facial features, Abbey’s heart ached when she saw Kelly grit her teeth together. Abbey wanted to rip the bars away and pull Kelly safely inside, protect her, shield her from the monster outside.
Kelly sobbed after another step and stumbled sideways. The glass was pushing its way through her skin, slicing through her veins and jabbing at her nerves. Kelly put a hand out to steady herself and she crouched down without falling over. Abbey could see the tiny chips of the milky glass peeking out of Kelly’s feet. It was a ghastly sight.
“Don’t stop now, my pretty. You’re nearly at the end.” Stefan’s voice was sardonic and denigrating, like the walking of barefoot over glass was just the beginning.
Abbey crouched down to Kelly’s level and stretched her arm out. Her reach was just short. Kelly was shaking, but fearless in her attempt to not cry out any more and give Stefan more perverse gratification. Abbey felt a knot in her stomach again and her chest too as she witnessed Kelly’s trembling hand clutch a shard. So sharp, Kelly’s dark skin bled its sticky fluid all over it.
Kelly cocked her head and eyed Abbey with a hard regard. “I’m sorry,” she quavered.
Abbey felt herself scream, but every action became a blur. A dash of hair and blood, the crack of glass, a groan, a bang and clatter, a roar even. A dizzy spell disabled Abbey’s senses. What had happened? She looked down at her open hands, but she couldn’t feel them. The knot in her stomach was gone. She was empty.
The shrill, nauseating cry of Rheanne echoed through Abbey’s cage. It was all she needed to know. Guilt was a cruel friend, one that had attached itself to Abbey like a tumour. If only she had kept still, not outspoken. Kelly’s fate was blood on Abbey’s hands. From this day onwards, no matter what atrocities came her way, and no matter how hard she fought, Abbey would never be free of the stain Kelly’s life had become on her heart. She hadn’t known this girl five minutes, but her disobedience had resulted in the girl’s loss of life.
~ * ~
Abbey was unsure of how long she had drifted in and out of sleep. It felt like a considerable length of time, but everything was a blur. She was thankful for the rest. Her body was sore, it longed for serenity, and her mind too was foggy, not fully cognitive. Tristan’s crude bed was comfy and Abbey savoured the precious moments where she could snuggle into the blankets, all warm and homely.
The harrowing last moments of Kelly’s life stirred a dismaying and depressing emotion that Abbey wanted to forget. Kelly shouldn’t be forgotten, but the painful memories of life inside of Stefan’s grounds were a drain on her. Perhaps, when the time was right, Abbey could pay her respects to all
the girls who had met their end by the monster that connected them all.
She had sensed both Tristan and Ryan in the background, mulling about, but she wasn’t too concerned with what they were up to. They had tried to wake her a few times, coerce her to eat some broth, but she couldn’t remember if she had had some or not, although her stomach was now hurting for some nutrition. It was strange. Stefan hadn’t starved her, but the amount of food she had to survive on for long periods was sparse. And yet as she got used to the routine, her body never once craved for food. Here with the boys, one meal and bam. Abbey did have to admit to herself, Ryan’s broth was tasty and obviously had left an impression.
There was a dull numbness to her arm and shoulder as she sat up, but it was surprising how resilient the human body was, especially after a profound period of recovery. Abbey knew it was science; an educated fascination she would never understand, but it was magical nonetheless.
Abbey felt around for her necklace. The Saint Christopher wasn’t there; her neck smooth and bare. Oh No. She scooted around the bed, hoping it had unclipped itself and was hidden underneath the blankets. It wasn’t.
The room was quiet. The blue haze too was unvoiced, but Abbey couldn’t sense any eeriness or malice about. It was a calming sort of stillness. She felt a little odd, discovering that the boys must have stripped her down to her underwear. Hung up on some wire however, was her white jumper and back jeans, washed and looking immaculately clean. After slipping them on, Abbey ventured into the room, where she found Ryan sat alone, looking through some old, browning books.
“Hi,” she said softly, tucking her hair behind her ears and encasing her hands within the safety of the jumper’s sleeves.
“You’re awake.” Ryan looked up at her. “There’s some potato stew in the pot. It’s probably still warm.”
Abbey smiled and sat down cross-legged. “Thanks. Maybe in a little bit. What you up to?”
“Just reading some old books,” he sighed. “This was once a school, you know. There’s so many hidden things in all the classrooms. We’ve barely touched the surface.” Ryan handed Abbey a book to look at, but she felt too ashamed to admit she couldn’t understand the words.
“My head’s still a little fuzzy, I’ll pass. Maybe when things are a little clearer.” She handed the book back to Ryan, who looked at her through squinted eyes, as if he could see the real reason for rejecting the book.
There was an awkward pause; Abbey didn’t know what to say. Ryan was a strange boy. She never knew where she stood with him. One minute he was cold and abrupt, and now he appeared to be friendlier. Perhaps it was only when Tristan was around that he became defensive. That was it. Was he jealous of the attention she received from Tristan?
“It was pretty scary back then for a while,” Ryan interrupted her train of thought. “Why the hell did you run away?”
“I’m sorry, I was embarrassed,” Abbey admitted frankly, barely thinking whether or not to be truthful. “You were right. I was spying on him. Tristan I mean. I’d be lying if I say I wasn’t, and I don’t do lying. I’ve never seen – I mean.” Abbey became flustered and she could feel her face burn again. “I – I. I just can’t explain it. It really wasn’t like me.”
Ryan chuckled as he watched her tuck her knees under her chin. “You’re a perv! Admit it.”
“No!” Abbey yelled, shaking her head defiantly.
“Whoa, whoa. I’m just havin’ a laugh. Look – I’m sorry too. I was way too harsh and if it wasn’t for me, you’d never have gone running now, would you? How’s your arm? You’ve been out of it for three sleeps now.”
“Three sleeps? Wow, I never realised. It’s feeling OK actually,” she said, waving her arm around like a fan. “I don’t remember much, if I’m honest.”
“I’ll go and make us a drink.” Ryan stood to go.
“Wait,” Abbey said earnestly. “No, just wait a minute.” She tried to gather her thoughts, deliberating on how to get out what she wanted to say. “I’m sorry. I’ve interrupted both you and Tristan’s routine. I never meant for this, you know. I’ve clearly offended you in some way.”
“Come on,” Ryan butted in. “I’ll make us a nice warm drink. We’ll go outside into the yard. It’ll be a bit nippy, but it makes you appreciate the tea all the more. We can talk out there.”
Ryan made the tea using the stove. He used a strainer of some kind, to which inside, Abbey noticed a colourful array of grasses. Thick cobalt blue strands clung to the sides, but small, thinner grasses were also noticeable, some deep crimson and others a shiny shade of jade. As Ryan poured some water he had already heated, the lemony fragrances were strong and addictive. Just the scent of it warmed Abbey on the inside, and she watched with a knowing smile as the liquid that ran through the strainer turned a gentle brown. She couldn’t wait to taste the infused tisane.
Before long, Ryan and Abbey stepped out into the cold air that had brought a little frost along with it. Abbey held her mug between both palms, catching herself sniffing joyfully at the warm steam now visible in the air as if it were a candle gently simmering. Ryan led her to an area she had never noticed upon her first venture into the yard, on the opposite side to the shower. A small area of wooden decking was tucked into one of the corners, where two benches sat lonely on top, both looking a little sad for wear.
“This reminds me of home,” Abbey said in between sips of the citrus beverage. “I live by the coast, next to a lighthouse. There’s a bench rooted to the ground looking out over the waves.”
“You’re a long way from home then. We must be what? Two sleeps in land, at least.”
“Really?” Abbey questioned. No wonder she didn’t recognise any of the streets when she had escaped Stefan’s grounds earlier. “My father sold me. I was brought here by an evil man.”
Ryan shuffled on the spot uncomfortably. “When I undressed you, I saw the bruises. I guessed something bad must have happened to you. Nobody gets those sorts of scars through choice.”
“Did you not think it may be because of my fall?”
“No. Some of the bruises looked like they had been healing for a while. Bruises go through a colour change, see. Some of yours are yellowy. That’s how I knew.”
Abbey rubbed at her arm, her cigarette scars now tingling with the mere mention. “I escaped. Though, other girls weren’t as lucky.” She stared up into the blue haze filled sky, thinking of Rheanne and Kelly - who she never had the chance to know. The moon was just visible, although it was too miniscule to notice properly. Stefan had talked of the moon, almost as if he had a romantic relationship with it. He was sometimes angry at how far away it seemed to be. Abbey didn’t blame it for retreating; Stefan was a monster. He repelled everything that came into contact with him.
“I would hate to have been in your shoes. I obviously don’t understand the pain you’ve been through,” he said, as if he understood where her thoughts had taken her, “that wouldn’t be fair, so I’m not going to try. I do remember Tristan saying something to me once though. About scars that is. He does that sometimes, comes out with one liners. He’s a soppy sod.
“‘A scar is nothing but a battle wound to remind you that you were stronger and greater than your assailant’ – I think that’s how it went anyway.
“Abbey, look,” Ryan said, pausing to get her attention. “I’m really sorry if I’ve come across uncouth and a bit of a dick. There really isn’t any excuse, but you’ve got to understand that me and Tristan, we’ve been on our own for, well, for as long as I can remember. We came across this school and made it our home. We’ve scavenged, built, rebuilt, fixed – you name it.
“I just didn’t like how you sort of invaded. Do you know what I mean? We have a routine going and happening across you was a surprise. I feel like I’m not getting my words out right.”
“Ryan, stop. I get it.” Abbey smiled at him, showing her forgiveness, but she couldn’t quite shake the niggle in the back of her mind that he was only apologetic because he had se
en her bruises and scars, Stefan’s handiwork. Paranoia was starting to cement its ugliness, and yet, it didn’t feel wrong or alien. Maybe this distrust was a decent defence mechanism. She didn’t trust Ryan, not fully and being sceptical of his sudden change of heart towards her would stand her in good stead for any reprisal he may have. It’s not like she had made any definitive plans to stay with the boys permanently. Life didn’t work like that. Things might not work out, they may ask her to leave. She may choose to leave.
“When you both undressed me, did you remove my necklace? It was my grans and I’d hate to have lost it.”
“No, sorry. I don’t think there was a necklace. I certainly didn’t take it off. You’d have to check with Tristan.”
“Where is Tristan?” Abbey asked, taking another sip of her drink. It really did fight the cold and warm her up.
“He’s out at the market. We need some things and I’m useless when it comes to haggling. You may not have noticed that we certainly don’t have many Tokens lying about the place.”
“I’ve never been to the market. In fact, I don’t know much about what happens there. Maybe you could take me next time?”
“Oh no,” Ryan laughed, spilling his tea, “you won’t learn much from me. Tristan’ll have to take you. He’s practical like that, has a real shrewdness when it comes to dealing with the stall holders. Tristan knows an object’s worth. He can trade expertly. Me? No, I’m hopeless.”
“I don’t quite understand how it all works. How do you even get Tokens? What do the stall holders do with them if you can only use them at the market? It all seems a little backwards if you ask me,” Abbey shook her head lightly. She had relaxed into Ryan’s company rather unexpectedly but she watched him with a close eye. This was a chance she could use to her advantage – question him, learn how the world worked. That way, she wouldn’t need to depend on anyone. Maybe it was obvious to Ryan, but Abbey was too humbled to admit that her life had been sheltered, especially when compared to Tristan and Ryan’s, who evidently were able to live by themselves. Abbey’s father always provided the food, the necessities. Even Stefan provided for her – she was just his toy.