Calling Mr. Nelson Pugh ✔️

*** BREATHE IN *** Part Two

A shuffling sounded over the phone, and then came Eleanor's  moans. They grew louder, but soon they mixed with the man's voice. I  could hear him speaking to her.

"It's for you." Again that childish quality slipped into his tone, so filled with glee at his little game.

"nelson...?"  Her voice barely held above a whisper, yet its soft quiver screamed of  pain. Any moment I would break completely. Elly was my world, and  hearing that quake of fear and agony in her every word threw my very  being off axis. The sky was falling.

"It's me, Elly," I said, doing my best to keep the tears back. I needed to be strong now. Worse, I needed Eleanor to be strong.

"...why..."

"Don't,"  I interrupted. I stopped forcing back a lump that had returned to my  throat. I coughed clearing the obstruction, and sputtering through my  bloody lip, and then continued. "Help is on the way."

"...please..."  She couldn't finish. If the knife had hit her stomach, then her  digestive acids would likely be seeping out by now, working their  corrosive magic on her internal organs. Of course, that is if I  could trust what I was being told by the maniac torturing my  family, and his was not the most trustworthy of characters.

"I'm  so sorry, Elly." This time the tears came through and I could not  restrain them. With no other choice, I plowed on. "I'm so sorry but I  have to know... this man, he stabbed you where? Just below the ribs?  Lower? Higher?"

I hated myself for having this  conversation, but it mattered. If it was lower, then he had likely hit  the intestines, in which case she might survive. Higher, and perhaps the  bone had minimized the damage. Just below the ribs, however, and  chances were stronger that he had hit the stomach and all the worst  scenarios were in play.

"yes..." she said.

"Yes, what? Higher? Lower?  Did it even matter? If she had a chance, then I had to ask this man to  leave her alone. Of course, if I did that, the man could move on to  Erica or Marie. The only choice left was to keep the man focused on  myself and Eleanor until help arrived, but that meant keeping Elly in  pain. I still shake thinking on that choice. No man should ever be  forced to choose such a fate, but wasn't that the point of it?

"Elly, I know you're in pain, but can you bear with me until help arrives?"

I could hear her trying to speak, only to be shushed by her tormenter.

"Quiet now," he whispered in a soothing tone. "Time to go."

Any  moment he would take away the phone. I knew it. Yet in all that time  with my wife I had done nothing to comfort her, and now this bastard was  taking away that chance.

"I love you, Elly," I  screamed. "Can you hear me? I love you!" What was I doing? What comfort  would that be faced with the violence that confronted her?

The man's voice responded, interrupting my thoughts. "I need your answer."

"My answer?"

"Yes." That childish glee waned, choked off by a rising tone of impatience. "A mercy death, or I leave her in pain."

No good response existed. I couldn't answer him. I couldn't choose.

"Don't do this," I began. "I'll do anything."

"No," he said. He had already heard this refrain and would not tolerate it any further. "That is not the game!"

Eleanor screamed and I heard the suction of the knife being plunged and pulled from her body once more.