No Happily Ever After (The Fairytale Diaries #1)

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No Happily Ever After (The Fairytale Diaries #1) Page 2

by Amanda Gatton


  But Zoe knew he came from a place that seemed for all practical purposes, enchanted. As a child, she had loved to play in Faraway Forest. She'd been truly at one with nature and would spend sun up to sun down exploring the quiet wood. Over the years, she'd gotten to know every nuance of it and that's how she'd found Benjamin's house.

  It furrowed deep in the woods about five miles outside Faraway. She'd happened upon it once entirely by chance. It was giant; a mansion. By far the grandest structure she'd ever seen, the house seemed to be a three story living creature, reaching up into the thick canopy of trees. Its walls were shining maple wood and its dozens of windows glinted from the few sun rays that snuck in through the tangle of tree limbs. A wrought iron gate loomed at the end of the winding drive leading up to the house, with an ornate sign reading Bar Estates. At times she'd explored there as a child. She'd found a hole in the gate and easily been able to get closer to the house. Even then, before her dreams of thievery had solidified, she'd been a talented sneak.

  The grounds of Bar Estates were sumptuous with lush gardens, a babbling brook and ancient towering trees. She'd spent many an hour there, secretly watching the massive quiet place, and wondering what was inside.

  One week before Christmas, Zoe decided she was going to find out.

  ***

  She happened to be seated within ear shot of Benjamin at lunch. Of course, Benjamin wasn't saying anything, just sitting forlornly quiet among the hub of his so called friends. But then, Mrs. Bar came into the cafeteria.

  The counselor was every bit as striking as her son. She had his same tall dark looks with shining black hair trimmed smartly even with her jaw, and a strong fit body. She dressed stylishly and as usual, she wore an inviting smile. She made her way through the sea of students, pausing to chat with people who addressed her. Finally she found Benjamin and leaned down next to him. She spoke softly to her son, thinking no one was listening.

  But Zoe heard.

  "Hey, bud," said Mrs. Bar kindly.

  "Hey," he said morosely, barely bothering to acknowledge her. He continued picking at his food and staring straight ahead.

  "You excited about your game tonight?" she asked hopefully.

  "Oh yeah."

  "Great!" she enthusiastically exclaimed, even though his agreement was so obviously contrived. "Your dad's gonna be there tonight!" She said this in a tone that suggested being graced by Mr. Bar's presence was a momentous occasion.

  "Great," said Benjamin lackadaisically.

  Mrs. Bar gave a gleaming smile. Among the Faraway student body, Mrs. Bar was generally considered a cool lady and a great confidant. It shocked Zoe to discover she was clueless. She clearly had zero ability to pick up her own son's veiled hostility. And Zoe was completely confident that the dear woman had no idea a nearby student was essentially casing her home that very minute.

  Zoe liked Mrs. Bar even more.

  ***

  Zoe set out just before dark. It was still an hour to game time, but she knew she had about a six mile hike ahead of her, most of which would be through rough terrain of the forest. Plus, snow fell steadily. There was barely a dusting on the ground, but it accumulated quickly. She knew she'd need to move fast to avoid hiking back through a full blown snow storm.

  She didn't even know if she would steal anything from the Bar family. Their home had fascinated her so much, for so long, she often dreamt of it. She mainly just wanted to satisfy her curiosity and explore the place. She doubted there'd be the "leave cash about" sort, and for some reason, she didn't have the strange desire to extract trophy steals like she had with other classmates.

  She walked briskly through town and then plunged into the mouth of the massive forest.

  Zoe was nearly frozen when she arrived. Her timing was impeccable. Shielded by the trees, she watched from the shadows as the Bar family's tail lights disappeared down the lane. Then she slipped through the hole in the gate and trampled through the snow in the back yard to get up to the house, hoping the tracks back there wouldn't be as obvious. She decided on the way out she'd take some time to obscure her foot prints as she left.

  She found that their sliding glass door off a rear patio was unlocked. A delighted squeal escaped her as she slipped inside. She kicked off her snow boots and left them by the door to wait for her return. Then, at long last, her exploration began.

  The Bar home was a whole new world altogether. It was like a cottage, a ski resort, and a castle, all blended into one dwelling. She found herself standing in a spacious family room. Zoe marveled at a magnificent fireplace, big enough that she could've stood at her full height inside. The mantle was lit by twinkling lights and was so huge, it accommodate three six foot Christmas trees. Across from the fireplace and in front of a bay window, there stood another tree that towered every bit of sixteen feet high. And yet, the vaulted ceiling was still far over it. She drifted to the tree and delicately touched the sparkling ornaments with one gloved finger.

  Zoe passed out of the family room and into a dining room. The focal point was a gigantic oak dining table adorned with candles and fragrant Christmas wreaths. She saw at one end of the long table, the family's dinner plates still sat with bits of uneaten food on them. Had they been running behind and had to leave their mess? Or was there a housekeeper who would arrive in the morning to clear away their dinner dishes? Whatever the reason, Zoe couldn't believe the neat and tidy people would so carelessly leave their mess behind. She wandered down to where the dishes sat, strangely fascinated by their food.

  A spoon protruded from an inviting bowl of beef stew. Amazingly, steam still rose from it. Zoe raised the spoon to her lips to taste the delectable looking stuff.

  She hissed and the spoon clattered to the table. "Darn it!" she exclaimed. The soup had burned her mouth. She couldn't believe it was still so hot.

  At the next seat, she saw no steam rising from the stew and decided to try it. But she found that bowl to be ice cold and unpleasant tasting. So she drifted to the next seat and tasted the soup there. She found temperature to be just right, and the soup tasted unbelievably good. Finding it irresistible, she sat down and devoured the entire bowl.

  The next room Zoe explored was a library. The walls were lined with shelves of books spanning from floor to ceiling. In one corner of the room, three chairs were placed facing one another as though the family sometimes sat there relaxing and reading together. Zoe crossed the room and took a seat in a large, leather wing back chair. She found it to be stiff and uncomfortable. So, she moved to the next chair; a county blue, flowered over stuffed. She found it to be far too soft and also uncomfortable. Next she tried the third seat which was an odd contraption of black bars like some aerodynamic office chair. She lowered herself onto it and to her complete shock; she wound up crashing to the floor. The flimsy chair broke into several pieces.

  "Crap!" she exclaimed as she leapt up. Zoe looked down at the mess on the floor and then turned to flee the room.

  She found a dark hallway and crept down it quietly. Though the house was cozy warm, a sudden shiver moved up and down her spine. It occurred to her that she should leave. She wondered why she felt so creeped out all the sudden. But despite her misgivings, she ventured on into the darkness.

  She came upon a door. She stood there staring at the knob for a long time, with an eerie feeling. Finally, she opened it and a dark stairway leading down was revealed. To the right was a light switch and she flipped it on.

  Zoe made her way down a nicely finished set of basement steps. At the bottom, she found herself in a small finished, empty room. It was brightly lit, with beige carpet, stark white walls, and absolutely nothing was in it except for a door.

  Again, Zoe hesitated to try the door. Hairs raised on the back of her neck and up and down her arms. She felt even more alarmed then she had in the dark hallway. Part of her wanted to turn and run. But another part of her said to suck it up and open the door. That, unfortunately, is the part she chose to listen to. With shaking hand, s
he gripped the knob and swung open the door.

  Zoe shrieked and clamped her hand over her mouth.

  Chapter 3

  The unfinished basement cavern Zoe stumbled into could only be described as a torture chamber.

  She stood frozen in her spot, mouth gaping, blood rushing to her head. Every fiber of her being wanted to turn and run away screaming, but she could not move. One thing was certain, this scene had never occurred in her dreams or imaginings.

  The first thing she noticed was in the center of the room. It was an archaic looking wooden rack, suspended from the ceiling, and with restraints dangling at each of its four corners. At the top and bottom of it were rollers and cranks. Though she'd never seen such a thing before, it was easy to tell that a person could be fixed to it and then stretched and torn.

  Next to the rack was what appeared to be a medical examining table. Next to that was a table set up with every imaginable variety of rusty metal instruments. Scalpels, syringes, speculums, and a myriad of other items that appeared to come from a time long forgotten by modern science. Worst of all, the table and instruments were all covered with dried blood.

  Looming in one corner was a large black box that was vaguely human shaped. It hung ajar, and inside it was full of ugly, vicious looking spikes. Any poor soul who had the misfortune of being shut inside would be impaled hundreds of times, simultaneously over his or her entire body. And judging by the blood on the spikes, she had no doubt that somebody had met that fate.

  She noted a wall where dozens of horrific looking devices hung neatly. A chair with metal spikes and that appeared to be electrified as well. Nooses and hand cuffs that dangled from the ceiling in various spots. Along the opposite wall were two small prison cells adjoining. There was no one in the cells, or in the horrid room, but the blood stains everywhere revealed the awful truth. It may have been empty at present, but it was most definitely well used.

  And then, the sound of a door opening upstairs and voices, snapped her from the nightmares of her mind, into the hell her reality had just become.

  "I can't believe we made the trip in just to have the game canceled," a man's voice complained.

  Every muscle in Zoe's body constricted. She spun and bolted backwards to hit the light switch at the bottom of the steps she'd just descended. Once again, she stood shrouded in darkness.

  Zoe shook uncontrollably, desperately clinging to any coherent thought. She had no idea just what sort of twisted hell on earth she'd gotten into, but she knew she had to escape. And fast. Because her boots were sitting right inside their back door. Soon, they'd know there was someone in their home.

  Zoe crept up the basement steps and back into the pitch dark hallway.

  "Mother! I think someone ate our soup!" she heard Benjamin Bar cry out.

  She couldn't breathe as she tip toed down the hallway.

  "Hey! Ben, did you break your chair and not say anything?" came his father's voice from dangerously close outside the door that had led her to the very hallway where she stood. She began frantically feeling the walls, searching for another door. She stumbled when she encountered an opening, and realized she'd found another stairway. This one led up. Oh so quietly, Zoe mounted the stairs. Just as she came to the top of the stairs into another hallway, Mrs. Bar's alarmed voice rang out again.

  "Someone's in the house right now! Her boots are by the back door! Find her!"

  The woman's voice was urgent and angry.

  Zoe began to sob and she darted into the nearest room. She heard their footsteps clamoring below. They shouted to one another as they searched the downstairs.

  She found herself inside a bedroom and she looked around not knowing just what to do. She hadn't even explored the entire ground floor and knew there was no way she could go back downstairs and somehow slip past them. Her eyes landed on the window, showing the sparkling full moon outside.

  Then, she heard the distinct sound of rhythmic footsteps on the stairs.

  They weren't on the stairway she'd just come up, so maybe they were far enough away to give her a precious few seconds head start. Without a second thought, Zoe darted to the window, threw the lock, and slid it open.

  And then she jumped.

  ***

  Despite the blanket of snow that had formed, the ground was unforgiving. Her right leg snapped and she crumpled into the snow. She bit into her own hand to keep herself from screaming.

  Her consciousness waivered as the pain threatened to take over. Glancing down, she saw bone had torn through her flesh and her jeans.

  But unfortunately, at that point, her broken leg was and her stocking feet in the snow, were the least of her troubles. She would move, or she would die. There was no doubt about it.

  Zoe Locke somehow hauled herself off the ground. The woods were a mere ten feet from where she'd landed. She hopped as fast as she could, dragging her broken leg. The movement caused pain so sickening; she could almost fool her mind into not feeling it. She took to the trees.

  Inside the forest, there was far less snow on the ground, as not much had been able to find its way through the tree limbs. She tried to stick to snowless ground and head toward the road. Eventually, she heard them outside, still yelling to one another, but she'd managed to put some distance between herself and them whilst they'd searched their home.

  Zoe kept moving. Their voices faded. They weren't following her.

  Eventually she made it to the road. She blubbered incoherently. Her functioning foot was bitterly cold and she knew soon she'd lose sensation and be unable to walk anymore. However, the cold also served to lessen the pain of her broken leg. So, on she went.

  She stayed in the trees close to the road and kept proceeding back toward town. She prayed for a car to happen by, but also feared the Bar's perhaps taking to the road in their car to seek out their escaped intruder. So, she remained hidden. And quickly, her strength and speed diminished.

  Then, she saw headlights. And, a spotlight.

  Zoe dropped to the ground and watched. The car approached slowly and when it finally passed, her heart exalted to see that it was a police cruiser.

  With the last bit of will Zoe could muster, she scrambled on her hands and knees. She crashed out of the trees onto the snowy road.

  "STOP!" she screamed, crying wretchedly. "PLEASE! STOP!"

  She dropped herself up on her knees and waved her arms.

  The lights of the cruiser washed her in bright red. And then she collapsed, stone cold unconscious in the snow.

  Chapter 4

  Zoe woke up screaming.

  Images of herself suffering unspeakable violence in the torture chamber remained vivid in her mind's eye for several moments as she woke. Nurses rushed to soothe her as she thrashed wildly.

  When finally the nightmare dissipated, and the oppression of slumber lifted, she realized she was in a hospital bed.

  And she was handcuffed to it.

  "Where am I?" Zoe gasped.

  A police officer who was seated in the corner of the white sterile room rose and approached her bed. He was tall and stocky. He wore long shining dark hair pulled into a neat ponytail. He had a dashing mustache and goatee, and an eye patch covered his right eye. She recognized him as Officer Hook, a man who'd operated the D.A.R.E. activities in Faraway school for as long as she could recall. She'd always thought him quite smarmy to be a cop, and suspected he didn't always have the best interests of the public at heart. She'd often wondered what dastardly event had cost him his eye. And had he deserved it?

  "Ms. Locke, are these your boots?" he asked pointedly, holding up her black snow boots.

  She shook her head groggily, trying to free herself of the dizzying confusion in her mind. "Yes. But, where-"

  "Ms. Locke," he said again, in his brief snippy way. "What do you know about a series of break ins here in Faraway, ending with the Bar residence last night?"

  Zoe frowned. "I… Uh…" Once again, visions of the awful lair in the Bars' basement assaulted her. "Li
sten, Officer Hook! They're horrible, rotten people. Murderers! Their basement-"

  "Ma'am! Answer the question!"

  Emotion bubbled up inside Zoe. She began yanking against the hand cuffs, so hard that the cold steel bit into her flesh. "PLEASE! You've got to listen to me!"

  "Zoe Locke, because you may have been incoherent before when I did this, we'll go through it again. You have the right to remain silent-"

  "THEY HAVE A TORTURE CHAMBER IN THEIR HOUSE!"

  "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

  "PLEASE! PLEASE LISTEN TO ME!" she screamed, weeping.

  "You have the right to an attorney."

  "P… Puh… PLLLLLEEEEEAAAASE just LISTEN!"

  Officer Hook paused to glare coldly at her. But then he resumed his somber reading of her rights completely ignoring her screams.

  ***

  Zoe told everybody she encountered about the Bar's basement, but nobody listened to her. They treated her accusations like the lunatic ramblings of a criminal desperately trying to stay out of jail.

  Contrary to what Zoe had believed, many of her burglaries had been reported. And during the sixteen hours she'd lain unconscious in the hospital being treated for her broken leg and frost bite, authorities had collected DNA to link her to the crimes. She was arraigned the following morning and sentenced to six months in a juvenile detention center just outside of Faraway.

  As officers escorted her inside the big stone building that day, she looked over her shoulder at the last she would see of the outside world for half a year. But she did not feel sad to be going to juvie.

  For she knew if she couldn’t make somebody believe her about the Bars, the real tragedy would be waiting for her when she was released.

 

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