Delusions
Page 21
“I’ve waited so long for this, Abby. So fucking long. And now you’re telling me that I did all of that waiting for nothing? Do you have any idea how many preparations I had to make? How much I had to do just so we could be together? Huh? Do you?”
The hold on her throat was so tight she couldn’t move. A gurgling noise came from her mouth, and the hold on her neck immediately ceased. Abigale fell forward, gasping for air.
“Abigale? Sweetheart, are you okay?”
She didn’t answer.
“I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Please don’t be angry.”
She barely heard their words as she hacked and coughed until she was no longer deprived of oxygen. It took another few seconds for her head to stop spinning. Abigale straightened in the chair, her breaths still uneven. A hand clamped down onto her shoulder, and a draft blew past her arm. Another settled on her knee.
Keep it together, Abigale, she said to herself as the hand slid up an inch farther. Don’t let him win.
“Abby,” the hoarse voice said, “please forgive me.”
It was a small but stupid sliver of courage that caused her to snap, “Don’t call me that.” If her legs weren’t tied to the chair, she would have kicked the figure in front of her as hard as she could.
It’s probably better I am tied up. It keeps me out of trouble.
“Abby.” The way they said her name caused goosebumps to form over her flesh again. It was steely calm, unlike a few moments before. It reminded her of a person scolding a child. “Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do.”
Before she was able to stop herself, she blurted out, “What are you going to do about it?”
A deep growl emitted from the spot in front of her. “Are you really wanting to test me? Why can’t you just be a good little girl and be happy I took you away from that horrible mother of yours?” Fingernails dug into the flesh of her thigh.
“I didn’t need any s-saving,” she said, hesitating at the last word.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop twenty degrees. “Like hell you didn’t.”
Abigale vibrated in fear. “I didn’t. I had it under c-control.”
A yelp of surprise tore from her throat when a hand lunged out, grabbing a fistful of her dark hair and pulling her forward. Hot breath blew on her lips, and she wasn’t sure whether to cry out, slam her head into theirs, or remain perfectly still. She decided on the third option.
“I don’t think even you yourself believe that, Abigale.”
“I—” she was cut off when a pair of cool lips pressed against her own. The person who owned them was aggressive, yanking her by the hair so she was even closer to them than before. It wasn’t a kiss she’d ever experienced before. It was painful and unwanted.
As her lips were forcefully parted, she bit down on the invading tongue. As if they’d been electrocuted, the mouth tore away from hers and let out a guttural cry. “You stupid bitch!”
Large hands wrapped around her neck. Their grip on her skin was forceful, and the air she’d been sucking in caught in her throat.
“Damien!” she choked out in between short breaths.
The grip on her neck faltered for a moment. Abigale heard the gasps emitting from her throat, felt the burning sensation build in her airway. Then, as quickly as the force ceased, Damien’s palms pushed against her throat even more forceful than before. Blood rushed to her head as she struggled to breathe.
The room was so dark she couldn’t tell when her eyes slipped shut. Her strained muscles relaxed under the oxygen deprivation. Her head lolled to the side, but then the crushing weight on her throat was gone. In the far corner of her mind, a bell of some sort rang, loud and insistent.
“I’ll be back,” Damien growled between heavy breaths. As his footsteps faded, Abigale breathed in deeply, trying to stabilize the oxygen levels that had been depleted after her latest struggle with her psychopathic neighbor.
When Abigale was certain he was gone, she pulled at the bonds holding her down harder than before. She thrashed in the wooden chair, her wrists and ankles screaming for her to stop. Damien would be back soon, and she didn’t want to know what would happen when he did.
The bell rang from somewhere across the house once, twice, three times more. Abigale stopped thrashing for a second to listen. For a moment, the only thing heard was her own breathing, and Damien’s frustrated sigh coming from somewhere in the other room. Then she heard a click and a squealing noise, like a door being opened.
“Where is she, Damien?”
She knew for certain it was her mother when Damien replied, “I missed you, Miranda.”
Abigale’s breath caught in her throat when the sound of lips locking together came from the next room.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX
A moment later Abigale heard a loud slap echo across the house.
Then her mother’s voice, loud and cruel, reached her ringing ears. “I’m not here to play your games, Damien. Where is my daughter?”
For the faintest moment, Abigale forgot she was in another room zip-tied to a chair. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and yet it made so much sense. All of her mother’s late nights; Damien’s absence every time her mother was “out for dinner with a co-worker”; the horror on her mother’s face the time she’d caught Abigale and Damien mid-kiss.
Her stomach turned. Not only had Damien kissed her, but her mother as well. The more she thought about it, the more disgusted she was.
“I don’t know where she is, Miranda,” Damien replied.
Abigale’s fists tightened, despite the strain it put on her bound wrists. He was lying straight to her mother’s face. She thought about screaming, but part of her wanted to see what would happen. She wanted to know how much her mother truly cared because she hadn’t shown evidence of that in the last eight months.
Besides, if she finds you, you’ll be going straight to jail.
The hair on the nape of Abigale’s neck stood on end at the thought of their conversation before she made the stupid mistake of confiding in Damien. She seemed so certain that Abigale had killed Mike. Was it possible she had? That her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her?
But how could I have killed someone I don’t remember killing?
She was snapped out of her thoughts by the sound of heels clicking on the floor. As the footsteps grew louder, Abigale wasn’t sure whether to yell or remain silent. She decided on the first option, knowing that whatever happened to her outside of the house was nothing compared to what could happen inside.
“Mom!” she screamed as loud as she could. “I’m in here! Help me!”
The clicking noise grew louder, the pace of her mother’s footsteps quickening.
“Miranda!” Damien yelled from somewhere farther away. “Come back!”
“I heard her scream, Damien,” her mother said. “Where is she?”
“Miranda, nobody screamed. What are you talking about?” Damien lied. His voice sounded louder than before. He was near.
“Mom, please!” Abigale yelled, straining against the zip ties holding her prisoner. “Help me!”
The moment she stopped yelling, a small beam of light shone into the room, temporarily blinding her. Her heart soared at the possibility that she was saved.
“Oh, God,” her mother said. “Abigale?”
Abigale felt like crying out in relief. Her mother had come to save her! Yet panic rose in her chest. What if her mother had only come to make sure she was carted off to jail?
She pushed away the thought. No, her mother was genuinely concerned about her. She wouldn’t just turn her in after finding her tied up in a dark room, right?
“Mom,” Abigale croaked.
A silhouette rushed toward her, enveloping her in a tight hug. “What happened to you?” she murmured into Abigale’s hair.
A loud click echoed from behind them. It was followed by a sigh. A disappointed sigh.
“Oh, Miranda,” Damien said.
“Let’s talk about this,” her mother said. Her phone was on the floor; it had fallen when she embraced Abigale. The light emitting from the cell was just bright enough for Abigale to make out her mother’s silhouette and the crazed gleam in Damien’s eyes. He held up something dark and shiny.
A gun.
“You ruined everything,” Damien said.
“Damien, please,” her mother pleaded. “Put the gun down.”
Damien was vibrating with anger, the gun shaking in his hands. The light it reflected only disoriented Abigale more. “You know I was just using you, right? To get to Abigale?”
“Yes,” her mother replied softly. “I know that now.”
“And how many times did it take us sleeping together for you to recognize that fact?”
The empty silence that followed roared in Abigale’s ears.
“You were sleeping with him?”
A sickening smirk spread across Damien’s face, and Abigale realized then just how insane he really was. “Go ahead and tell your daughter, Miranda. Tell her about the times you came begging to forget about that husband of yours. Go ahead! Tell her!”
He took a threatening step toward her mother, the revolver level to her nose.
“Please,” her mother sniffled. “Don’t.”
Damien threw back his head and laughed. “Don’t? Don’t what? Kill you?”
Her mother let out a broken sob that almost made Abigale feel bad for her. Almost. All she could think about was how her mother had been sleeping with her love interest for months, and neither told her. The thought made her sick to her stomach.
“You’ve treated your daughter like crap ever since your shit husband went off the deep end, and you used me to forget! You’re nothing but a worthless coward!” Damien pressed the muzzle against her mother’s forehead. Abigale’s heart thumped inside her chest as her mother’s broken sobs filled the air. Was he actually going to kill her?
“Damien, please,” her mother whispered. “Don’t do this!”
His gaze shifted to Abigale. Their eyes locked, and his face sobered a little as he peered into her terrified face.
“Damien, put the g-gun down,” she told him, her voice cracking.
His eyes hardened, his attention focused on her mother again. “No.”
A loud bang echoed through the house. A light flashed. Abigale screamed when the silhouette of her mother fell to the floor. The light from the cell phone illuminated the dark shape on the floor and the cold look in Damien’s eyes. When Damien peered up at Abigale, his gaze held no emotion. “It’s better this way,” he said.
Abigale strained against the zip ties. They dug into her wrists, cutting off the blood flow to her hands. “No, no, no!”
Damien came closer. His eyes, the ones that always took the breath right out of Abigale every time she looked into them, were as cold and as hard as stone. “It’s better this way,” he repeated.
He raised the pistol high over his head and slammed the butt against her temple with such force that her vision immediately went black.
She didn’t even have time to scream.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN
Abigale watched her best friend enter the girls’ washroom from behind a door to a vacant classroom. Her thoughts were foggy. She had a hard time focusing on anything. A bag was slung over her shoulder. She wasn’t sure how it got there, or what it contained. Her fingers drummed on the wooden door as Julia disappeared behind the bathroom wall.
She knows too much, a malicious voice whispered from the depths of Abigale’s mind. Her hands tightened into fists and she stepped forward, away from the concealment of the classroom.
She knows too much.
Her vision was tinged with red. Scanning her surroundings, she concluded that no one was watching her, and crept toward the bathroom door. From inside, she heard a toilet flush.
Glancing behind her once more, Abigale snuck into the bathroom like a shadow, swift and calculated. She reached into the bag slung over her shoulder, gripping a long handle. She wasn’t sure what she was doing. It was like she was watching someone else from inside of her own body. Like her conscience was tucked away in the farthest corner of her mind.
Her heart pounded in her ears as she turned the corner, coming face-to-face with her best friend.
She knows too much.
“Abby?” Jules looked at her with a confused expression. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Isn’t your class on the other side of the school?”
She knows too much!
“Yes,” Abigale told her. She stepped forward, and Jules stepped back.
“Can I get by you?” Jules laughed. “I need to get back to physics. I’m doing a review test.”
Abigale’s hand tightened around the handle of the knife still concealed in her bag. “A review test,” she mused.
“Yes,” Jules said. She eyed the bag Abigale was holding. “What’s in the bag?”
Taking another step forward, Abigale felt her lips curl into a sneer. “You know too much.”
“What the hell, Abby?” Jules said, her tone edged with fear. When she reached for the phone in her back pocket, Abigale struck.
The knife she brandished dug itself into her best friend’s stomach. Abigale slapped her hand over Jules’ mouth to muffle her scream. Her eyes reflected pure fear as she fell, the knife still lodged in her stomach. She gasped, grabbing at the knife with slick fingers. Abigale dropped to the floor beside Jules, gripped the knife’s handle, and yanked it out. A cruel smile flitted across her lips as she stabbed down again, this time twisting the blade inside of the fallen girl’s flesh. Jules let out another horrible scream.
A satisfied feeling came over Abigale as Jules’ eyes glazed over and her head lolled to the side.
She knew too much, the voice confirmed.
Abigale lodged the knife in Jules’ chest once more before she pulled a piece of paper from her bag and stuck it on her stomach. The blood acted as an adhesive. Her lip curled into a sadistic smirk as she read the typed words on the page. DarkHeart434’s note.
“Yes,” Abigale muttered, examining her handiwork. “She did know too much.”
***
Abigale awoke drenched in sweat. Her hands were shaking, causing the zip ties to cut deeper into her flesh. She wasn’t shrouded in darkness anymore. A window behind her was open. Light drifted in through the glass, illuminating the horrors of the previous night. On the floor, a large blood splatter, along with remnants of human flesh, stained the wood. Her mother’s body was gone.
Bile rose to Abigale’s throat as the dream, mixed in with the horrible mess on the floor, plagued her mind. Her mother’s still body was burned into her eyelids. Denial stabbed at her very being. She couldn’t convince herself that her mother was gone. It was too surreal.
Abigale looked down at her wrists and her breath caught. The zip ties had dug themselves so deeply into her flesh she was bleeding. It was no wonder every movement felt like someone was slowly sawing her hand off.
She scanned her surroundings wildly. She was in a bedroom. A bed, one that looked like it hadn’t been used in a long time, was tucked against the far wall. The light color combination mixed with the blood splatters lining the walls were enough to completely unhinge her.
“Damien!” she yelled without thinking. The blood was everywhere. It stained all the furniture, the floor, and the darkened entrance. She knew her mother hadn’t been the only one to die in that room. The only area clear of blood was covered by a large photo of a swan in flight, its wings extended to catch the air beneath it. It bothered her more than the blood did. The bird itself didn’t trouble her, but its freedom did. She longed for the freedom it had. Hunger, pain, and dehydration had taken over all other needs. She was willing to do anything to get a drop
of water or a crumb of bread.
No, Abigale! Pull yourself together! You can think about eating when you have escaped.
“Ah, you’re awake just in time.”
Damien was grinning.
This is really bad, Abigale thought to herself.
Behind the bright smile, Damien’s mesmerizing eyes glittered dangerously. Abigale knew she had to tread lightly.
“What do you mean?”
“We’re leaving, Abigale,” he said. “We are going to start a new life together. You and me.”
Abigale shrank against the back of the chair. “What?”
Damien was standing right in front of her now. He reached for her, his fingers brushing her cheekbone with the faintest of caresses. “We are getting out of Arcata. Isn’t it exciting?”
She couldn’t help but think about her mother when he brushed his lips against hers, and how she too had kissed those lips when Abigale wasn’t around.
“No,” she croaked. “Get away from me!”
He grabbed the back of her head, tugging her up by her hair. She whimpered at the sharp pain, her eyes forced to look at him.
“Are you saying you don’t want to be with me?” His smile was gone, his voice so low it sent alarm bells ringing in Abigale’s mind.
“You killed Mike and Jules,” she said. The words felt foreign on her tongue. She felt like she was telling a lie.
Damien’s bewildered expression confirmed Abigale’s worst fears. “I didn’t lay a hand on either of them.”
“But,” Abigale swallowed, wincing at his grip on her hair, “you’re DarkHeart434, aren’t you?”
Now Damien appeared even more confused. “What are you talking about, Abigale?”
“You…you sent me messages on Facebook. You were threatening me.”
Damien released the hold on her head. “I sent you a couple of handwritten notes. Not once did I threaten you. I don’t even have Facebook.” He wrinkled his nose. “I’m not a fan of social media.”
Abigale’s heart lurched. “You mean you aren’t the one who killed my friends?”