Spirit (Monsters Series #3)

Chapter 9: Twists and Torture

I awoke on a small, firm cott. I felt a single tear run down my face for no apparent reason. Then, I remembered.

I saw my Juliette tortured by a woman Finn called Grandmother.

"You alright, dude?" An unfamiliar voice asked.

I turned my head towards the voice. I saw before me a large, muscular man with dark skin and eyes just as dark. His expression reminded me of Emerson after he realized I was Gatlin's son, only slightly different. His aura held confusion, contentment, and most of all...

Love.

"I-I'm fi-fine." I stammered, the man's fragrance assaulting my senses in waves, a mixture of earth, musk, and bliss.

"You don't have to be nervous." He replied.

"The st-stu-stuttering is ne-ner-nerves. I-I've be-bee-been stu-stuttering since I sta-started talk-talking. No one is sure why." I explained. "I guess I never grew out of it."

"That's crap."

"Ex-excuse me?"

"I said that's crap."

"Wh-why is it-it your bu-bus-business?"

"I have an obligation to know whether or not my sister's boyfriend is lying."

I narrowed my eyes at the irksome boy warily. He seemed...strange to me, foreign. Something about him peaked my interest in a way.

"How's our patient, Olly?" Emerson asked perkily.

"He's up." Olly answered, chuckling. "He's glaring at me too."

I didn't notice my face was stuck in an irked scowl. I relaxed my face to portray neutrality.

"Wh-where's Ju-Juliette?" I asked my future father-in-law.

Right on que, Juliette comes bursting in the door.

"Dee!" She exclaimed. "You fainted again!"

"I-I-I g-g-g-guessed that." I replied icily.

"Man, Jewels, your Bond's a wimp!" Olly jested.

"Shut up!" Juliette and I exclaimed in unison.

Olly's obnoxious laugh boomed across forests and seas. Juliette glared at him with her obsidian eyes that camouflaged her pupils, giving her a mystic air. Olly's chuckles faded out of intimidation at the sight of his older sister's morose expression.

"You..." Juliette breathed, looking toward me. "You didn't stutter."

"I didn't?" I exclaimed, clear and precise. "I didn't!"

At first, I was happy, but then, I started to wonder.

What changed?

~

I was in a dark room. I felt like my wrists and ankles were strapped to a table. I was strapped to a table. I squirmed, trying to get free. The efforts were in vain. I heard small footsteps tapping along the floor.

I heard a young child clearing her throat melodramatically. I felt the table fall a few feet closer to the ground. A scream slipped from my lips as I beheld a child with long, scraggly black hair that once must have held spiraling curls. Her smile showcased gritty yellow fangs, and her eyes were of an unsettling gold.

"Finn?" I exclaimed.

"Guess again." The child responded.

"Melody?"

"Try again."

"Who are you then?"

"Your worst nightmare."

Her trill brought shivers down my spine.

"Why am I tied to a table?" I asked her.

"For our game, silly!" The girl giggled. "We will play together until you have to wake up.

I heard a lever click, and I felt my limbs stretch from their sockets. I screamed and screamed until my throat bled and my voice grew horse. The little girl laughed hysterically, enjoying my painful suffering.

"Do you know my name, denial?" She asked me, teasing. "If you know, you can guess the the very extent of my power."

She yanked the lever, making me scream once more.

"I'll take that as a no." The girl trilled.

Before she answered, the little girl gave the lever another yank once again. The name she whispered sent shivers down my spine.

"Croatoan."

~

I awoke with immense pain in my chicken-like arms and legs, as if the stretcher's firm pulls occurred in reality. I was in my own bed with Felicity, Kaya, and Stella staring down at me. Stella reminded me of a less frightening interpretation of the girl in the dream with her light skin and dark curls. I could have sworn I saw her blink, but I was still drowsy.

I walked downstairs,mand what my eyes beheld was the most horrifying scene that hardly seemed real but was so utterly vivid that I couldn't help but scream like the sissy I was. Blood was splattered everywhere, and the disembodied heads of my family slowly rolled on the hardwood floor of my living room. I spotted a couple arms and legs limp on the floor. It all felt real yet impossible.

I heard a trilling chuckle that could only belong to Croatoan.

~

"Dee! Dee! Princess!"

I woke with a start, tears slowly dripping down my face.

"Bad dream?" Juliette asked.

"Yeah." I responded.

Suddenly, I heard voices outside the room.

"What are you doing with my boy?!" I heard Dad growl.

"Calm down, Samuel." Emerson argued. "We will explain everything. I promise."

"You are honestly telling me that I can't see my own son? And how do you know my name? I don't know you!"

"In due time, Samuel. In due time."

"We'll explain everything. Calm down, Sam." Lyle echoed.

"Huh. Lyle Ford is telling me to calm down. I guess, if this were a story, this is what my Gatlin would call irony?" Dad retorted in monotone, acting smart.

I heard a growl rumble from Lyle's throat. I could picture Emerson's hand on his chest, keeping the beast at bay. I could picture him muttering in his ear and his other hand laced with a large, meaty one. I pictured the breath of the intimidating broad steady to a calmer rhythm.

"I want to see my boy!" Dad protested.

I knew what was about to happen.

"I want to see my boy!"

Dad has a habit of repeating things until he gets what he wants.

"I want to see my boy!"

He has been slipping into old habits of his youth.

"I want to see my boy!"

He will never truly understand a mind outside of his own, apart from Papa, that is.

"I want to see my boy!"

Papa is one of the first and only minds that he has truly understood.

"I want to see my boy!"

I fear it will always be the case.

"I want to see my boy!"

"I want to see my boy!"

"I want my boy!"

"I want my boy!"