by Kim Faulks
Three days. I wasn’t going to last three minutes.
"Please, don’t eat me," I whispered. I cradled the cold steel and waited for the pain.
The heavy breath buffeted my body. The heavy clink of shackles dragged along the ground, edging closer. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t face death, not now—maybe not ever. I could feel him, dangerous, powerful, drawing in my scent and I expected each second that passed would be my last.
A snort blew strands of hair into my eyes. I didn’t move, didn’t breathe. A feral snarl tore through the air, heavy steps followed, dragging the chain backward, away from me. The muscles of my arms knotted and burned. The door was all I had to hold on to. That cold steel warmed under my hands and my breath.
"I. Need." The harsh voice came from somewhere in the shadows.
I flinched at the sound. Holding my breath, I risked a shift of my head. I licked my lips, keeping my voice calm and low. "Lord Bête. Are you down here?"
I waited for an answer, but there was only the heavy breath of the animal behind me. My mind was playing tricks, giving me hope when there was none. Mark was right, three days down here, waiting for this beast to kill me, I’d either be killed, or go insane.
The dark room upstairs haunted me. I could still smell the decay. The stench crawled under my skin and seeped into my brain. I stared into the crevice of the door and inhaled the cold musty stench of this room. All those women. How many women had Mark dragged into this hell, only to murder them once they were here?
Which was the real beast?
The cold floor was hard on my side. I gripped the door and tensed my body, sliding my hip to ease the ache and waited for the reaction behind me. There was no clang of chains, no snarl ripped through the room—only silence.
I seized my lip under my teeth and shifted again, listening for movement. The pain in my hip surged. I had no choice and so I moved again, twisting my body so I faced the center of the room. The bulb flickered, filling the room with darkness, if only for a second.
In those seconds, my heart clawed its way into my throat, fighting for a way out.
But there was no way out. I stared at the naked bulb until my eyes burned and spots danced in the shadows. Please, please don’t let me die down here. The beast was quiet. Only the heavy sound of his breaths told me I wasn’t alone. I slid my spine along the wall, taking one slow step. Easy.
I forced my feet to move, edging toward a bundled shape in the far corner which grew from the shadows. At first, the outline looked like boxes. Maybe packaged food, old stuff hidden away—just like the beast. But the closer I came I realized that the shadow wasn’t boxes at all. It was a bed.
The pallets reminded me of a derelict squat. I slapped my hand over my mouth, gagging at the stench of piss that wafted from the filthy blankets. This was all there was. I kicked the blankets from the makeshift bed, holding my hand tight over my mouth.
I’m going to die here.
I dropped to the wooden slats and pinned my shoulders against the hard wall. I was going to die in this room and no one would ever know. My eyes burned, but there were no tears left. I’d cried all I could in this fucking hell.
I stared into the shadows and my mind wandered. Desperation drove the old man to meet with the beast and beg Lord Bête to marry his daughter. But it was the beast he met with, and the beast knew everything about this place. Did the beast work for the Lord? Where was the master of this house now?
These questions plagued me, in a revolving circle of hopelessness and greed. I pulled my feet higher onto the slats and crossed my legs and stared into nothing. Time became warped and strange. Each breath seemed to take forever to complete. I concentrated on the sound and the frigid air in my lungs, waiting for the night in the room to shift and for this hallucination to end.
The loud snap of the bolt made me jump. A warning growl tore through the room as the door opened.
"It’s okay, it’s just me." Belle whispered.
The vibration didn’t stop, then I realized the growl hadn’t come from the beast in the room. It’d come from me. I swallowed the sound, catching the ting of metal and the scrape of her foot.
"Wait." My voice was a croak. I cleared my aching throat and tried again. "Please, wait."
The splinters from the pallets dug into my fingers. My grip gave out under the pain. Still, I scrambled forward, clutching the wall as I shuffled to the door. "Please, let me out of here."
Belle bent, placing the tin bucket on the ground, along with a folded blanket, then straightened. In the twilight, I could barely make out her face. I grabbed her arm and caught her wince. "Please."
"I can’t. He’s watching."
I shook my head. "I can make it. All you have to do is turn the other way. I can hit you, if you want?"
"Belle, come out now." Mark’s impatient growl rang down the stairs.
I glanced to the opened door. How far could I get? Belle shifted her glance from my face to the room. "Please don’t. He’ll kill us all."
My grip softened. To risk my life was one thing. To risk the lives of everyone in the house.... The fight seemed to leak from my spine.
Belle kept her voice low. "Sometimes the escape we so desperately need is right in front of our eyes, but we don't realize it until it’s too late. I can’t come back until tomorrow, so make the water last."
Then she was gone, leaving me alone with the clang of the door echoing behind her.
I bent to the pail. My hands shook as I took greedy gulps, drinking my fill. The water tasted earthy and fresh. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stared at the pail.
"I’m not sure how this works. You need water and I need to stay alive. So, I’m gonna take another drink of this and push the bucket close to you. Please don’t bite me."
I bent and drank until my belly was an icy balloon, then dropped to my knee and eased the pail closer to that dividing line between light and dark. I couldn’t help but cower as the pail scraped along the ground. The water splashed against the sides, wetting my hand as it disappeared into the gloom.
That’s far enough. I yanked back my hand, licking the droplets from my fingers, and shuffled toward the doorway, then made my way back to the corner and crawled up on the bed. My belly was hard, but at least my thirst was quenched. Hunger had become a constant companion. I felt the ache as my body warmed the water.
What wouldn’t I give for a burger right now, or a steak with the works? Maybe tomorrow Belle would bring food. I closed my eyes and prayed for sleep, listening to the pail drag along the ground. Or, maybe the beast would end me as I slept. I pondered that thought as my breathing deepened. This time the thought didn’t shock me.
I woke with a scream resounding in my ears. My throat was on fire and I felt the burn all the way into my chest. I still felt Mark’s hands around my throat, the feeling lingered as I opened my eyes. There was no rising of the sun, not even a glimmer of light. I lost all sense of time huddled on the crate. The cold air seeped through the blanket, smothering me with an icy chill. My teeth gnashed, chattering so hard my jaw ached. I tried to hold my face to stop the pain, but there was nothing I could do.
The hard timber slats were cruel on my ass. I tried to move to find some relief, but no matter which way I shifted the ache drifted into my hips and back, forcing me to my feet. My mouth was dry. The water I drank seemed like days ago.
The heavy breaths of the beast were like the ticking of the clock and the soft snores rose and fell like waves at sea. I scanned the darkness and used the sound to keep track of his movements as I shuffled toward the end of the room. My fingers traced the cold steel of the door.
I reached with my right hand and touched the metal handle of the bucket. I snagged the end, dragging the pail closer. The grating sound of metal on dirt tore through the room. I held my breath, careful not to spill the contents and wrenched the bucket toward me.
I felt so cold, yet I craved water, and drank my fill, then wiped my hand across my mouth. The room
was quiet, gone were the heavy breaths of the monster that lived in the dark, now only silence lingered. My bladder was aching. I tried to force the need away, but there was only so long I could hold on. I stared into the darkness and swallowed, turning my back on the beast was a bad move. Still dignity overruled. I turned and faced the wall as I gathered my skirt and dragged my panties down. Humiliation took a second seat as I squatted. The steady stream of urine splashed onto the ground.
That silence followed me, as I stumbled to my bed. I stared into nothing and yet, I felt everything. Every nail of this godforsaken bed, every cold draft of this hell. I closed my eyes and tried to force the horror away and slept.
My dreams were cruel, warm sunshine and food. I woke to cold, shuddering I closed my eyes again. Sleep was easy, taking me under, whispering that everything would be better. But each time I woke I knew they weren’t. There was a harsh wheeze that resounded in my chest. I coughed, forcing the spittle into my mouth before I spat.
Thoughts of the end crowded me. I forced them away. Sleep would help me heal. Sleep was what I needed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I woke with a roar, the darkness, the cold shredding what was left of me. My fingers were numb and there was a deep rattle inside my chest. I tried to inhale and coughed, drawing mucus from deep inside. My chest burned. I clutched my body to stop myself coming apart. I gripped my arms and licked my lips. The corners of my mouth burned. Cracks broke through the soft flesh and I tasted my own blood. How long had I been done here? Thanks to the curse on this house, I couldn’t trust my instincts. Could be hours, could be days.
The snap of a lock jolted me from my thought. The hinge squealed as the door opened, and light flooded in. The rattle of a chain next to me sounded like it was my own as I scrambled forward, stopping as Mark barged into the room carting two buckets. I could smell the food and my mouth watered. I swallowed and forced the urge to crawl for the bucket. There was something else I needed more—survival.
"Please, I’ll do anything." My throat was raw, each word brought fresh blood into my mouth. Still, I had to try. "I’ll give you anything. I’ll be anyone. You can call me Belle."
Mark stared down at me as though I was nothing more than a mirage. He blurred with my tears. "You can call me Belle."
The tin bucket scraped along the ground. The chink of the handle tore through the room as Mark straightened. He swept the room with a cold stare, and turned away without a second glance.
I scurried after him, like the rats I’d left upstairs. My fingers grazed the back of his pants, then fell to the ground. The door swung closed behind him. I yanked my hand backward in time for the steel door to slam shut. "You can call me Belle!"
My screams rebounded inside the cellar. I slammed my fist against the door, my throat blazing with the strain as I screamed. "You can call me Belle!"
I listened to the faint sound of his footsteps fade through the door and felt something inside me break. There was no hope, not for me and not for this beast. How long would it take for me to die down here, weeks? Months?
I crawled forward, searching with one hand in the dark, and touched the cold edges of the pail. The rice was soft, barely warm, mixed with something that resembled bits of meat and gravy. I scooped the gruel into my mouth and gulped as the heavy padding of paws stole my attention.
I stopped swallowing, waiting for the animal to react. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew the beast wanted more than just food. My heartbeat was too loud, my breaths too harsh, swallowing even the slightest sound inside the room. The beast could be across the room, or standing right in front of me. There was no way to know. Icy fingers trailed up my spine, standing my hair on end as I lifted my hand. Even blinded in this room I felt his eyes on me, watching my every move.
The slop in my mouth turned tasteless and gluey. I forced a mouthful down, clenching my thighs tight, then pushed the metal pail along the ground toward the beast. "Eat while it’s warm. You’re bigger, and you need the food more than I do."
The empty drum of my chest rattled as I coughed. I fell forward, bracing myself on the ground as the burn spread all the way into my lungs, then used one hand to scoop the frigid water into my mouth.
I wiped my lips and whispered. "I’m not here to hurt you, okay? So, please don’t hurt me."
A whimper came from somewhere in the middle of the room, stilling my hand. My fingers trembled. The quake raced through my body. Then the animal moved, dragging the chain with heavy thuds to stop beside me. Something warm licked my hand, then it was gone... a tongue? The pail pinged and scraped as the chain hit the sides. The cellar was filled with the ravenous gulps, and the grating sound of the bucket along the dirt as the animal consumed every last morsel.
I crawled back to my bed as fire burned inside my chest and rubbed away my snot and tears with quaking hands. There had to be a way out of here. Agony was all I felt. There was nothing else for me, not here. Grain by grain, I clawed under the rubble until I wore a hollow against the wall.
The earth refused to move. I speared the dirt with my fingers, hissing as my nails tore free. The animal beside me whimpered, padding toward me.
"I can get us free." I mumbled as my body shook. "I think I can get us out of here."
I clawed the dirt, convinced I could get us free, while part of me whispered there was something wrong, the burn in my chest was dangerous. But I left the human part of me behind in this dark hell. The rumble of the beast flowed through me, became me. The harsh sound tore through my chest, blending with the hacking cough as I scratched.
I collapsed on the ground. My body trembled, my back seized, and the cold seeped into my bones. The hacking cough jerked my aching spine. The spasms drove pain down through my leg. There was blood in my mouth, the scent was all around me.
And if I could smell my blood, so could the beast.
I lay on the floor, shuddering and left the cold behind, feeling the flush spread from my chest. Beads of sweat cooled against my face, but the brief respite wasn’t enough. I was burning. Sleep called. I lifted my arm. The movement, which seemed so effortless minutes ago, was now a strain.
My hand fell to slap my face and I felt the sting in the center of my palm. Blood coated my lips as I used my tongue to probe the wound, but there was nothing I could do as fire raced through me.
The animal clawed the ground next to me.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
"Please stop." I whispered and closed my eyes.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
I roused enough to feel my dress jerk tight and the ground slide underneath my body. So hot. I shuddered. I needed the cold, craved the cold.
My back seized, wrenching my hips from the ground. Electricity raced through me, stealing my thoughts. That white light was all I saw, blinding me. I slapped the cold dirt as my jaw clenched tight. There was something wrong with me, something really wrong.
A weight pinned my arm to the ground, a whimper echoed somewhere off in the distance. I couldn’t reach that sound agony speared my chest with a hot iron.
The room slipped away until harsh breaths dragged me back.
A soft blanket wrapped around me, smothering me with heat. Something wet lapped my face. Please, I’m so hot. I slapped the heat with a weak swipe, pushing it away. The heavy rug never budged. Instead, the thick weave wrapped me tighter. The thudding of a heart was deafening inside my ears. I nestled my head against the fur, listening to that rhythmic sound and slept. The beast’s golden eyes haunted me in my dreams, they followed me everywhere I went. I woke with a harsh cry that tore talons down my throat. The heat was suffocating, still my body trembled, and I slept.
Fragments of my memory came to me, the forest, the ghost—the old green car and sweet tea, tasting faintly bitter. Mark smiled with those soft full lips and he reached for me, dragging me, kicking and screaming, into the darkness.
I caught the dull thud of a door. The blanket was yanked away, leaving me to feel every bump in the hard,
icy floor. I swept my tongue through my arid mouth. The flesh was hard. There was no moisture. I opened my mouth, my words no more than a harsh wheeze.
Footsteps sounded, moving closer. The heavy boots stopped no more than an arm-span away, there was a moment of silence before Mark spoke. "Why aren’t you dead yet?"
The cruel question was answered with a warning growl and the scrape of paws as the beast moved between Mark and me.
"It’s been three weeks. I guess this one’s going to last longer than we thought."
His parting remark blended with the agony I felt. Three weeks. I’d been down in this hell for three weeks. I turned my face away, as I tracked his heavy steps heading for the door, then the metal clanged and the bolt slid shut, leaving us alone once more.
The scrape of the pail filled the cellar. Inch after inch I listened to the grating sound move to my feet. I could smell the water, cold and crisp, almost sweet. Desperation pulled me to my knees and I crawled on weak arms until I could move no more.
The animal whined. I felt a shove under my arm, urging me to get up and survive. I drew my knee up and propelled my body forward until my fingers touched the metal. My arms shook as I shoved my head from the floor, leaning over the lip I dipped my chin into the water. Icy liquid rushed into my mouth. I took what I could, slowly gulping before I dropped to the ground.
The cold water sat heavy in my stomach, but soon enough I was thirsty again. I lifted my upper body off the ground, this time a little easier and drank, taking long pulls until I was filled once more.
I coughed. The hacking burn was still there, although the fever had broken. But I was weak and weak meant only one thing. "If you’re not going to eat me, then why are you keeping me alive?"
The thunder that tore from the room sent a charge along my skin. In my desperation to live, I forgot he was still a beast and I was at his mercy. Just don’t panic. I tensed my stomach, lifting my head from the floor. I scrambled forward, my foot slipped against the ground as a weight fell on my leg, pinning me to the floor.