Chapter Five: Liam

 

                This must be what Hell feels like, that is, if I believed in Hell.  I could hear Jess’s screams, they were piercing and seemingly internal. Now, there are only moments of silence interrupted by the pitter patter of water drops from the leaky roof. My body endlessly shivers. I’m cold, naked, and alone. The only warmth in this s**t hole has been taken from me. “She is dead” continuously rings in my mind. The silence that replaced her screams is more piercing than ever. Thoughts of what the b*****d could be doing to her plague my mind. She must feel so alone. She is probably wondering if I am trying to save her or not. I wonder if the police from town have any clue as to where we are, I mean, I sure as hell don’t.  I begin to wonder about my mother, she must be wallowing in despair. First her husband, now her only son. Tears roll down my cheeks as I picture the warm, glowing face of my beautiful mother. I would give anything to see her once more. I used to think that I would be able to get Jess and myself out of here, but I am not even capable of stopping him from taking her. I realize now that it was just naïve hope, only leading us to more anguish. Maybe it was just a tactic to get Jess to calm down. I mean, did I actually believe I could ever be her hero? No. that’s just it, I am no hero, no savior. I’m just a boy. I’m scared and alone. More than anything I just wish I could see my mother again, just to hug her one last time. I think about Jess’s parents. I wonder about how they must feel the same as my mother. My mind suddenly takes a twisted turn.

                What if I do make it, and I have to be the one to tell them I couldn’t save her life

My stomach tenses up as I began to shake. Images of my potentially dead best friend flutter through my brain. Without hesitation I vomited up the remaining of any food in my stomach. I was literally worried sick, and not to mention physically sick from being naked, cold, and malnourished. Then it hit me; the man who took us must have done so just to kill us. No wonder he isn’t bringing food in for us! I should have been angry, but I was so tired, so ill, that all I could do was roll away from the vomit, and lay my head on the floor.

What must have been hours later, I awoke in a fright from nightmares, with nothing but the dim glow of the moon peering in through cracks in the wall. My head was spinning, and my stomach was flipping. I must have been crying in my sleep because my eyes were puffier than when I had fallen asleep. I had dreamt of my mother and father cooking what would be our last Thanksgiving meal. Of course we didn’t know that at the time. My father was sick, yes, but he wasn’t bad yet. I was just a small boy in my dream, and I was sitting on the counter watch them cook. My mother was singing, and stuffing the turkey. Every so often my father would pull her away and spin her in a circle, then sway back and forth with her. They would laugh tenderly, exchange a subtle kiss, and go about cooking. It was bitter sweet seeing them together again. Somehow I knew that when I woke up my father would still be gone, and I would still be in this Hell hole. The warmth of the dream went cold as my mother opened the oven. What was supposed to be a casserole was Jess’s crisp, burnt body. I screamed jumping from the counters, but I was caught by my father-whose face had morphed into the kidnappers. He held me down with so much force, I actually could feel it. Jess’s seemingly dead corpse rose from inside the oven, and screamed at me; “Why Liam? Why did you have to let me die?”

Footsteps behind the door broke me from my reminiscent trance.

Oh God, now he has come for me.

I couldn’t have been more right. Giddy with creepy excitement, he flung open the door, grinning from ear to ear. Wearily, I pushed myself against the wall, knowing my effort was pointless.  With one giant leap, the man was next to me within seconds. He knelt down, placing his forehead against mine. The stench of his breath hit me like a baseball bat, and my eyes watered almost immediately. He grabbed onto my face, pinching my cheeks with his fingers.

“I have done it!” He cried cheerfully, “I have made my Eve so perfect!”

Confused by what he was saying I grew speechless. My heartbeat pulsed in my ears as he ranted on about perfection. He caught my attention when he shook my shoulders, yelling right into my face.

“And now it is your turn!”

Before I could protest he dragged me by my arms to the door. I weakly squirmed, but stopped knowing it would be to no avail. I protested, but he didn’t seem to hear me. It struck me that we might be headed to where Jess was, and that I would be able to embrace her once more.

I yanked my arm from his grip, and promptly stood up. He seemed pleased by my actions and gestured his hand for the dark little room. Without hesitation I sprinted forward into the room. The stench of rotted blood and flesh was overwhelming, and I clasped my hand over my face. I waved my head from side to side frantically searching for Jess.

“Jess!” I cried frantically, momentarily removing my hand from my face.

The room was dark, strokes of moonlight painted the gravel, but shadows encased every corner of the room. One particular corner differed from the rest; there was a dark lump tucked into the crevasse.  Cautiously I stepped forward, but was immediately distracted by a cracking noise underneath my foot. I stepped back and instinctively looked down. Blood covered my foot, and long strands of brown hair stuck to my toes. Confused, I slowly bent down, and to my horror, realized what I had stepped on.

It was Jess’s hair.

I jumped back, unable to remove my eyes from the bloody pile of hair. I gaged and coughed noticing her skin was still attached to it. Without thinking I ran over to the corner screaming her name repeatedly. I stopped as I reached the shadow. My heart stopped. Before my very feet was a familiar beauty, now mangled and dirty. My Jess, my love, was lying dead, and mutilated before me. Tears spilled from my eyes as I fell to my knees, pulling her body into my arms. My forehead rested in the crook of her neck as I breathed long heavy sobs down her chest. An aching pit grew in my stomach, and my mind went blank from sorrow. I stroked her cold skin and screamed her name repeatedly. I slowly lifted my head and moved my eyes to look at her face. My sobs continued as I traced the stitches along her scalp with my finger.  I cupped my hand over her cheek and rested my forehead upon hers.

“I love you.”  I wept.

I was oblivious to the man standing behind me, until he rested his hand upon my shoulder. I flinched, and smacked his hand away.

“You’re tears of joy please me. You are right, she is beautiful now. But she needs her rest, and you need work.”  He smiled imperiously.

The pit in my stomach quickly filled with pure hate and rage.

“Tears of joy?” I barked, “Why would I be happy you killed her?”

A chipper laugh escaped his mouth, as if I had told him a joke.

“She is not dead, she is resting.” He said, matter-of-factly.

I was appalled, and speechless. I turned away from him and began sobbing again. He became impatient with me, and stepped closer to us.

“Let her rest!” he snapped.

I ignored him, making his fists clench. He let out a gusty sigh, grabbed my arm, and yanked as hard as he could. My weak body tumbled in the dirt, but I quickly crawled back to Jess’s body, and draped myself over her. Fury entered his eyes as he rampaged for me.

“No!” I shouted, kicking at him.

He dug his fingers into my skin, painfully pulling me away. I squirmed and reached for Jess, pulling her body into the dirt with me. The man grabbed onto the back of my hair, pulled me to my feet, and slapped me across my face so hard I was seeing black for a few moments.

“I just bathed her!” He shrieked.

I came out of my daze just in time for him to plant another blow across my cheek.

“I didn’t want to have to do this to you, but you give me no choice,” he hissed, “I shall give you another chance to redeem yourself, but I will not hesitate to punish you again.”

I cupped my face with my hands, wincing from the stinging on my skin. He never broke his stare with me, expecting I would apologize or something. I looked down to the floor, awaiting another hit. He sighed, then chuckled

“You cannot fix attitude,” he whispered eerily, “isn’t that right?”

I looked up to see that he was no longer staring at me, but behind me. I turned my head to the opposite corner of the room. Six decayed and mangled bodies, just like the boy in the room- and now Jess, were exposed and leaning against the wall. I looked back to the man, horrified. He just glared into the corner, and listened intently as if the bodies were speaking. He confirmed my suspicion, when he walked over to one-a girl I think, and screamed at her about her tone.

“Worthless.” he grumbled, as he walked back over to me.

Obviously fed up, he latched onto my arm, and hoisted me up onto a bloody table. Knowing I would try to fight him off, he did not hesitate to strap my arms and legs down. He walked over to a makeshift fire place, and within seconds had a glowing fire started.  He mumbled to himself as he picked up a blood spattered knife. Without cleaning it off, he closed in on me, ready to cut.

“Why are you doing this?” I whimpered.

He snickered and his face grew pale in the flickering flames. He set the knife down in a pool of what I assumed to be Jess’s blood. He leaned in close to me, a weird calmness in his eyes. His voice was soft, and frightening. A lump formed in my throat as he spoke.

“My dear Adam,” he began, as he caressed my face, “in the beginning there was darkness, a void in which no light could pass, except for one. A creator, a new light, God if you will, surpassed the void and lit up the darkness. He is said to of created the Heavens and the Earth, even made man in his image. Yet, the creator left a little bit of darkness in each of his humans. Thus, giving us a choice-a choice to deceive him. This choice opened a lot of doors for humans; poison and hate flooded the land. You see, God is flawed. If he were perfect he would have made my father love me. If God is flawed, and we were made in his image, then aren’t we capable of being him?”

My mouth gaped, and my eyes grew wide. The realization of what he was suggesting hit me.

“I was born with the gift of creation, something only God had, “he nodded his head over to Jess’s body, “therefore, I have taken it upon myself to fix his mistakes, to become the new God.”

A single tear rolled down the man’s face, as he turned from me and began to whisper.

“His light could never out shine the darkness. For wherever his light went, the darkness was their first.”

He turned back to me, but I couldn’t meet his gaze. His words spun around my mind, and my emotions flew around my skull. He snapped back into his impatient state, and picked the knife back up. Within seconds the cold metal was slicing into my exposed chest. I screamed and whipped my body around, but the man was in a trance. He continued cutting, deeper, and deeper. Warm blood spilled over my sides. The pain was so great; I was praying to pass out. I lifted my head slightly, pressing my chin to my chest. My body began going numb, and I felt as if I was no longer looking at my own body. The sides of my chest skin was shredded and folded over, and what looked like my ribs were showing. I let out one more, deafening scream, releasing all of my energy. My head fell back on to the table with a slam- and I happily drifted back into the darkness.