A Date with the Devil

by Adams, Kira

  He cocks his head to the side. “Suit yourself.” He places the bucket back down on the hard floor.

  “So, you have me, what now?” I ask in an attempt to pull more information out of him in regard to what he plans to do to me.

  Chandelier by Sia begins playing inside my pocket and my eyes follow Robbie’s frantic ones. My speakers are pretty dominant, even with the phone cloaked inside of my pocket, and I can see the anger flashing across his face. His eyes shoot up toward the ceiling when we hear audible footsteps headed toward the basement door. There is a creak, and we can now clearly hear someone making their way down the stairs. Robbie races around to me and places the tape back across my lips. He grabs the phone out of my pocket and chucks it at the ground. I can tell without even looking that he has shattered the screen. The sound of the impact is piercing. He turns his back to me, and begins to make his way toward his obstacle. I try to scream with everything in me, but the tape is so tight across my mouth, I’m just running out of breath. The tape is even more restricting this time around. It muffles my scream, but Robbie whips his head back around after a few moments and throws a punch right at my stomach. I feel like all of the air has been knocked out of me, and I am gasping for a deep breath; a difficult thing to do when your mouth is blocked.

  I lift my head just in time to see Robbie grabbing his gun and cocking it. I’m shaking from fear.

  “Hello?” A male voice calls out from the other side of the thin wall. And then we hear the dresser that cloaks the door being slid across the floor. My eyes are wide as Robbie shoots a quick glance my way and then back to the door, lifting the gun.

  I see the door handle slowly turning and I’m accidentally holding my breath, forgetting my circumstances. I see a handsome Hispanic male in his early twenties peek his head around the door. His eyes widen in fear as Robbie steps closer to him, the gun aimed at his head. “If you say another word, you’re dead,” Robbie warns.

  Robbie reaches out and pulls the terrified man into the room. “Get down on your knees,” he orders in a sharp tone.

  The poor guy looks terrified. I’m terrified for him. He shifts his eyes nervously from Robbie to me and then back toward the door. He’s going to flee.

  Don’t leave me here! Don’t leave me with him! Seconds later he is making a run for it. Robbie pulls the trigger before he even makes it past the threshold. The injured stranger lets out a grunt and then falls face forward onto the hard floor.

  There are frenzied footsteps above us and now I can hear a female voice shouting. The door opens with a creak and I hear the sound of heels clacking against the wooden steps. Robbie looks at me with a devilish grin and then he slinks backward into the room so she doesn’t see him right away.

  “Oh my God! Oh my God!” she screams loudly. “No! No! No!” she continues repeating, unstable.

  Robbie quietly approaches the doorframe, but the blond is too focused on the dead male to notice. Her shoulders are heaving up and down as she presses her ear to his chest and her arms wrap tightly around his cold body.

  “Why today?” Robbie asks, capturing the female’s attention immediately.

  She screams so shrilly I have chills running down my spine. She stumbles backward from the door and then spins around taking off in a full run toward the wooden staircase. She’s out of my eyesight when I hear the deafening sound of the gun going off again, and the chilling sound of her body falling to the ground roughly. I wince, squeezing my eyes closed. I’m going to die today.

  Right after I was lit on fire, there were times when I didn’t know if I wanted to go on. Being dead meant life would be easier for me, but it was only because I didn’t know my full potential. Now that I’ve been able to experience what life is supposed to be, I want to savor it. I want know what it feels like to grow old. I want to know what it feels like to have a family. I’m tired of taking the easy way out. I’m ready to take my life back.

  Of course I would realize this during my last moments. I haven’t believed in God in a really long time, but given the circumstances, I’m willing to change my opinion. I press my hands together, which are bound, ignoring the foreign feeling and close my eyes, letting the words spill out of me.

  Fourteen: Justice is Served

  It’s been hours since Robbie shot two people in the basement of our old house. He hasn’t been back to the room I’m in since. The only thing that did happen was he pulled the body of the male out of the doorway so I wasn’t simply sitting there staring at it. I’ve heard terrifying noises such as chopping, a chainsaw, and now eerie silence, and a strong smell of bleach. The sound of crinkling plastic makes my stomach churn. My imagination is running wild with frightening visions of what he’s done to those poor people.

  I scoot my chair quietly across the floor stopping abruptly when it makes a rubbing sound. My heart is pounding against my chest as my eyes stay trained on the open door. I breathe out a sigh of relief when I hear the chainsaw start up again. I scoot once more stopping directly in front of a table where a knife is sitting near the edge. Maneuvering my hands down while they are still tied behind my back is a sight to see, but the minute I feel the blade touch my fingers, I know it’s all worth it.

  My hands are tied so tightly behind my back there is no possibility of me being able to cut the duct tape without immediately dropping the knife. The only thing I can really do with 100% certainty is to grip it like my life depends on it.

  My thoughts shift to my family…how they are going to react when he cuts me up into tiny pieces and ships me to them one by one? My imagination is obviously running wild, but I can’t help it. The mixture of stenches coming from the other room is making me nauseous. If I ever get out of here, I am going to tell my brother I love him. He’s annoying, that’s just what brothers are, but I do love him. I remember the first time I ever held him in my arms. I remember how tiny he was and how scared I was that I might drop him.

  “What should we name him?” my mother asks weakly from the hospital bed.

  I glance back at the tiny creature in my arms. His ears are big and round and a name instantly pops into my head. “What about Mikey?” I offer up. He reminds me of Mickey Mouse, but this way he won’t be bullied over his name.

  My father chuckles. “I like that.”

  I nod, my eyes fixated on my baby brother.

  “I think it’s perfect,” he says, walking over and kissing me on the top of the head.

  Hours later, after losing myself in a series of memories, Robbie pokes his head in with a disturbing smile. “Gosh, you have no idea how good it feels to finally have our house back.”

  I think I’m going to be sick. He killed two innocent people without a second thought or any remorse. There’s nothing to say that he won’t do the same to me. He reaches his hand out to the back of my neck and slips it around, chills immediately following. Robbie stares down at me beneath furrowed brows and then darts his eyes around the room nervously. “Where is it?”

  I swallow knowing that I’ve been found out. He’s going to kill me with the weapon I’m using to protect myself, how ironic is that? I keep a stone face as he backhands me brutally and my head whips backward. I feel a pop beneath my skin and then blackness begins seeping in obscuring my sight.

  * * *

  I come to, the pain in my face intense, I feel like someone is stabbing me in the face repeatedly every time I blink. Unfortunately for me, that’s every few seconds. My eyes stroll around the room, taking in the familiar wallpaper and trim. I never thought I’d be in this room ever again.

  My wrists are aching from the ties around them. I’m tied to bed posts this time, the rope digging into my skin. I can feel someone watching me and I shift my eyes to the corner of the room where a small chair sits. Robbie has been seated there the entire time, watching me. It’s sickening.

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask, hysterically.

  Robbie leans forward in the chair, his elbows resting on his knees. “I told you, I made a mistake before
, but we have a second chance now. I was confused, but we are meant to be together, Bryce. I’m the only one who will ever be able to accept your body the way it is now.”

  I squeeze my eyes closed, tuning him out. Manipulation, his favorite game. “I have to go to the bathroom,” I mutter, upset with myself. I can’t hold it any longer.

  “No problem! Let me go grab the bucket,” Robbie says hopping up.

  “Robbie, please, if you really want to give this a solid try, you’re going to have to loosen the reigns a little. I promise I won’t run.” I will say just about anything to end up in the bathroom.

  He seems to be pondering his options when he finally gives in, nodding his head. He unties me from the bedposts, freeing my wrists and ankles, and then walks me into the bathroom. “Do you mind?” I ask staring at the open door, but Robbie just smiles back at me.

  I know that I can’t hold it any longer, and that I’m going to have to suck up my pride and pee in front of him. I keep my eyes trained on the ceiling as I sit on the toilet and do my business. I feel naked. When I am finally finished, Robbie walks me back to the bedroom, where he insists I lay down so I can be tied back up.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I say gently. I know the only way I am going to get a leg up is if I play his game. Even though it makes me physically sick to do so, I run my hand through his longer hair and over his unruly beard. “You have no idea how much I have missed you,” I lie.

  He cocks his head to the side. “You have?”

  I nod. “I’ve been so depressed and lost without you. I lie in my bed and cry myself to sleep every single day.” I pause, exhaling sharply. “Why did you leave me?”

  He runs his fingers across my face gently, tingles prickling up my back. “I thought you hated me. You’re not mad?”

  I shake my head. “No. How could I be? We’re soulmates, remember?”

  His shoulders relax and he leans in to kiss me. I can think of no better torture, but if I want to live, I have to play along. I give him all the passion he would expect and even suck on his bottom lip a little for good measure.

  My eyes travel down his body to his right hand where he is clutching his gun tightly. I grip his shirt between my fingers and pull him down toward me. “Put the gun down,” I whisper seductively into his ear. “I want you,” I add in knowing it will put a fire under his ass.

  He sets the gun down and then climbs on top of me on the bed. The position of our bodies still feels familiar, but now I feel terrified as well. Robbie rips off his shirt and throws it on the ground. His eyes are dark and cold. “Make love to me, Robbie. We don’t have sex, remember? We make love.”

  The idea of being intimate with Robbie makes me sick to my stomach, but the dangerous look in his eyes tells me that it isn’t going to be gentle. He lowers his lips to my neck and as he stays occupied, I reach around his back to the nightstand. He perches himself up on his palms when I slide from beneath him, headed straight for the gun. My fingers curl around it and I hold it up, directly in his face.

  Robbie looks shocked. “You don’t want to do this.”

  I cock my head to the side, “I don’t? See...that’s where you’re wrong. You made me weak when you tried to take my life from me, but I’m taking it back now.” I stand tall, stepping off of the bed.

  Robbie lifts himself up as well, taking a hesitant step toward me with his hand outstretched, reaching for the gun. He’s going to have to pry it from my cold, dead fingers. When he gets too close for comfort, I don’t think about the consequences, just pull the trigger, a bullet dislodging from the gun and hitting Robbie right in the chest. He staggers backward, falling onto his back on the floor.

  “You shot me!” he exclaims surprised.

  I drop the gun to the ground with a thud. I’m as shocked as he is. I’ve never hurt another human being in my life, at least not on purpose. He is breathing heavily, his eyes rolling backward. I know he will die unless I call the police. I step back toward the bed and take a seat on top of the gold comforter. Robbie looks so harmless as he bleeds out onto the ground. He’s not intimidating, and for the first time in a long time, a weight feels like it’s being lifted off of my shoulders. As soon as Robbie takes his final breath, I go searching through the house for a phone to call 911, still shaking uncontrollably.

  Fifteen: Progress Report

  “I know we’ve already been through this, but I have to ask you again, what took place in your old house?” Officer Jenkins scoots in her chair, readying herself with a notepad and pen.

  I’m tired of explaining it. I feel like I am having to relive the nightmare over and over again. I know I have a right to an attorney, but the only thing I can think of right now is how badly I want to see my mother and father. I know the police called them, but the waiting is torture.

  I glance up at the two way mirror facing me in the interrogation room. I know someone is outside listening in; probably watching me and my behaviors. Maybe I should be punished for this. When has killing someone ever been okay?

  “Bryce?” Officer Jenkins pulls me out of my trance.

  I rub my hand over my face, sighing. “Can I have some coffee?” I ask.

  Officer Jenkins exhales deeply, standing up. “Sure, I’ll be right back.”

  She heads for the door, her long strawberry blond ponytail bouncing back and forth.

  “Bryce?” I hear my mother’s familiar voice outside the door. I jump up and run toward the sound. She is standing beside my father and Mikey, and they all have matching worried expressions. I rush to my mother first, feeling comfort and safety the moment her arms wrap around me. I am shaking from happiness and fear and she squeezes me tighter, rubbing her hand soothingly up and down my back.

  “Are you okay?” she asks, glancing down at me.

  I keep my arms tightly wrapped around her as I burrow my head further under her chin. “I will be.”

  I release her from the tight embrace and my father wraps his arms around me, pulling me into him. “Your mother and I were so worried when you didn’t come home. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you,” he says softly pressing his lips to the top of my hair. I pull away, tears trailing down my face. “It’s okay, Daddy, I learned how to protect myself.”

  Mikey surprises me by wrapping his small arms around me. I can’t remember the last time he hugged me. It feels strange, but it feels nice.

  We remain at the police station for another hour while my parents are witness to the story. After the police have retained all the answers needed, they allow me to leave with my family. I have blood on my clothes and the minute I get inside our house, I race upstairs and into my bathroom, stripping myself of the violent reminder. I climb into the shower, letting the scalding hot water trail down my spine. I can’t believe it’s finally over. No more having to look over my shoulder. No more fearing for my safety.

  I have no idea what the outcome is going to be for the police department and if I will eventually be arrested for killing Robbie, but they have all the documentation from the hell he put me through. They took photos of my bruised wrists and ankles, and I am pleading self-defense. Officer Jenkins showed me kindness for the entire ordeal I’d been through. Something tells me that she has a very interesting history.

  The only thing I really know at this moment is I no longer have someone trying to kill me; someone obsessed with taking away my freedom. I don’t have to be the victim any longer. I plan to take advantage of that. After my skin is prune-like from sitting in the shower for so long, I exit my bathroom in my bathrobe and head for my bedroom. Once I have dressed, I open my door and my mother is ascending the stairs. “Hey honey,” she says with a small smile. “Tyson called while you were in the shower.”

  “He did?” I ask. I had nearly forgotten about everything Robbie did to him as well. She nods. I debate calling him back, but think better of it. My life is mine again. I need to start acting like it. I throw on my warm wool peacoat and rush past my mother and down the stairs.

  “Bry
ce?” she calls out from behind me.