Rose's POV
My poor little baby was red from the hits with Hugo's belt. That man - that monster - had beaten my baby to the point that bruises had begun to form on his back and bottom.
He was only a few months old! He didn't deserve such hate! How could this have happened?
Jimmy sniffled softly when he was returned to me, Hugo dropping him into my arms without comment and disappearing into the bar - no doubt to erase what he had just done from his memory. Pulling back his nappy, I could see the lines from the leather belt - wide and red - edging with bruises in black and blue.
"Oh, Jimmy," I tucked my face into his little chest, nuzzling his form, "Baby, I'm so sorry... I didn't mean for you to endure that."
Jimmy started to cry again softly, hiccuping and whimpering in pain as I brought him into the safe cacoon of the kitchen. Everyone had evacuated the area - no doubt after hearing Hugo's rage when Jimmy had started to cry. I did my best to get a bit of cream on his back to cool the heated bite from the belt and a plaster to keep his injury protected from the fabric of his clothing. A small ice pack was placed against him as I tucked him into the crook of my arm - walking from the kitchen.
The remaining staff members were now in the main lobby of the hotel, one of them with my torn cloth cradle in her hands.
"Rose," the cook came forward when I appeared around the corner, "What happened?"
"I'm sure you heard," I answered grimly, rocking Jimmy.
Hands flew to mouths, soft gasps echoing in the silent lobby.
It should have come to no surprise that this would happen. He had been brutal to me ever since I brought up being pregnant - but he loved children, it was part of his job as a magician to entertain people of all ages. How could he hurt such a little one? Someone that was only a few months old - and related to him by blood? I couldn't understand it.
"What are you going to do?" one asked.
"Well, she's going to the police and reporting him! That's what she needs to do!" another staff member erupted.
"I can't," my body was shaking now, much like my son's, "If I go to the police... what will they think? Hugo has no reason to show that he hurt Jimmy - he's a teacher, after all - and if they do try something, I know that his family has the money to shut the whole thing down. Then, they'll attack me for making false claims - and I haven't a pence to my name!"
"Hey, calm down," one of the other staff members came around and hugged me and my baby, "One of us will go, then. If there's multiple witnesses, the family won't be able to do anything about that."
"Hence a whole different problem," the cook spoke sadly, shaking his head, "The Hall family will call all of us liars - pressure Rose to admit she told us lies. And, if we're successful at all, Hugo will force all of us out a job - slander the hotel until there literally is nothing left for us or for Rose."
"Well, can't we help Rose get away from here?" another worker suggested, "We could give her a bit of money so she could get away from here - file for a divorce, start fresh."
"I doubt that," the cook spoke up again, "Hugo knows everything - ex-magician and all - he'll find Rose and drag her back here. He'll probably kill her in the process - if not her little one first."
"Then, we have to get little Jimmy out of here..."
"No!" I tucked my son closer to my chest, my heart racing at the thought of losing my baby, "I won't give him up! I carried him for nine months without any help from his father. I struggled through twelve hours of labor to bring him into this world - this beautiful, kind child who should want for nothing. I can't leave him with strangers we hardly know! What if he is hurt worse than what Hugo has done? I won't be able to protect him!"
"Rose, we're only trying to help you," one of the cleaners spoke, "Clearly the boss won't accept Jimmy as his own - which puts both you and him at risk. If Jimmy was to go to another family, he would be safer than he is here. Hugo will continue to harm him if you don't do something! Please, Rose - let us help you."
Something snapped within me - most likely maternal instinct, but I wasn't sure. Jimmy was MY son, MY child. I refused the idea he would be anything but. In my mind, he was safer with me - I made the promise that I would protect him. How could I protect him when he was miles away from me?
"No," my tone was sharp, anger evident, "I am keeping him. If Hugo tries anything, I will always be there to take the punishment. Today was a misunderstanding - let us move past it. Please, I beg of you."
It was the first time I could see that some of the staff were more than willing to leave this job behind - but I couldn't blame them. If I had the strength, I would've left a long time ago - but it was hard when I had no family to protect me, to protect Jimmy. I knew that the staff members didn't want to be any part of it, and I was deeply troubled how Hugo and I had dragged them all into this. Several of them took off their badges, placing them on the register counter, and walked out into the rain. Only a handful of the staff remained - the cook, two cleaners, and several servers.
We all knew that going forward was going to be difficult, but none of us knew just how much.
***
The next two years had been Hell - specifically for me and Jimmy.
Hugo had started beating Jimmy on a regular basis, after the staff members left for the evening. He would take Jimmy away when I wasn't looking and drag him down into the basement of the hotel - so his cries couldn't be heard by the guests. It was his way to keep any more talk about abuse among the staff.
If no one saw anything, they couldn't report anything. I knew that he had overheard my conversation with the staff, which must've forced him to start the beatings in the basement.
I knew what he was up to though, often attempting to catch him in the act and see what he was doing to Jimmy physically. I figured, if I was able to call him out on hurting Jimmy, Hugo would turn around and use his strength on me instead. However, he would always do it when I was trapped - working on forms for the hotel, placing orders for food, setting up repairs for rooms that needed updates, and so forth.
Jimmy was covered in bruises on his arms, legs, and chest. His skin had turned from flush pink to a deep purple in some spots. His eyes were always red and tears clung to his cheeks, snot dripping out of his little nose. There had been at least one strike to the back of his head that I knew of - making me fear that perhaps he would have brain damage.
Hugo always threatened me and the staff that if any of us tried to take Jimmy into the hospital - he would kill us, and he was very persistent he knew how to hide a body.
But, one night, something snapped completely.
I had a secret office in the basement of the hotel - it was where I kept Jimmy's birth certificate among other things from a life that had been more joyful than now. I was in there, trying to make sense of everything in my world, when I heard a familiar crack as a child's cry erupted from the room across from mine.
I had placed Jimmy down in my room for bed as he needed sleep. The past few weeks in particular had been rough on him - his little back now showing scars from the hard impact of whatever it was Hugo had been using. I had suspected it was an old cat-o-nine tails whip that was on display on the third floor - Hugo had collected medieval weapons over the years during our travels before we had gotten married.
I had wanted a moment of silence for myself. I wanted my world to stop spinning and stay still for only a moment. Hugo must've seen me leave my shared room with Jimmy before sneaking into the room and bringing my boy down here. His intentions - in my now opened eyes - was he that he deliberately was trying to kill Jimmy.
But he didn't know that I was down here too, it seemed.
I reached under my desk, grabbing a heavy cricket bat from under the wooden frame. After Jimmy's first beating, I had taken Hugo's cricket bats and locked them in the secret office - too afraid he would use them on our son or me and end up killing one of us. But, with the bat in my hands, it felt like a blanket of comfort - a little push to do what I had to.
If Hugo was so insistent on taking his anger out on everyone, it was time I returned the favor.
I crept out of my office, closing the door quietly behind me as cracking and childish screams echoed off the walls. I could hear Hugo, shouting at the top of his lungs again, shouting at Jimmy to keep still - calling him a little wretch. Hugo was the real wretch. The door opposite of me was wide open - a sort of spare storage room that had nothing but dirt in it with old bags of sand and concrete. Hugo was kneeling on the floor, the old whip in his hand - bringing the offensive object down on Jimmy, who was laying face down in the ground while cries erupted from his little throat. I snuck behind Hugo as he continued to hurt my child, bringing the bat up over my head. It was now or never.
I brought it down hard on the back of his head, a solid - yet satisfying - crack echoing in the chamber. Hugo dropped the whip and began to lean forward, his hand coming up to touch the back of his head.
I didn't give him a chance.
I hit him again, this time across the side of his head from behind, and forcing him to fall to his side - his eyes wild when he looked up at me.
"Rosie-" he started.
But I hit him again, screaming like a mad woman as I continued to beat him with his own bat. Every emotion that had been locked away for three years came flying out - the anger, the stress, the fear - all of it compiled into strong smacks upon Hugo's head and torso. I screamed out everything he ever said to me when he beat me during my preganacy - bitch, arshole, cad, cunt, nutter, devil - then following with what he called Jimmy - wretch, plonker, stupid, prat.
When my arms gave out and my body felt weak, I dropped the bat beside me and knelt beside Hugo, pressing my hand to my sweating brow as I took deep breaths and cried softly. When I pulled my hands from my face, I realized they were covered in blood.
The bat beside me was also covered in blood, sticking to the sand covered floor like water on a swimmer. My heart had caught in my throat as my eyes slowly trailed up to the upper portion of Hugo's still body. It was slumped forward, arms at his sides and trapped in the dirt. Blood rolled slowly down from the upper part of the back of his head - though some had splattered onto his shirt, his face, and his neck as well as the ground below us. Hugo's face, though, was still trapped in that frightened state - frozen in time forever to show that his death had been a brutal one, one that now spoke volumes.
I had killed him.
The thought of it still scared me - I would never have intentionally killed somebody, especially Hugo. I was trying to protect myself and my son from him, to give him a taste of his own medicine. What did that make me now? A killer? A murderer?
Jimmy's whimpers pulled me from the sight of Hugo. My little boy had pulled himself up to his knees, curling his body to sit on his bottom as his eyes connected with mine.
It must have been scary to witness such a thing.
I came over and pulled him into my embrace, cooing to him softly, "It's alright, Jimmy... I'm here now. The bad man is never going to hurt us again."
***
The following weeks after the fight in the basement, I had to tread very cautiously.
I had disposed of the body and the bloody clothing into a long black bag, tucking it into the secret room and sealing it before scrubbing my hands and face clean of blood in the kitchen - the cook was always working with raw meat and the blood from the steak or pork would be no different from my late husband's. Jimmy's clothing and the cricket bat also had to be locked away down there for the blood from my hits with said bat had spread onto Jimmy's clothing in little droplets. I didn't want anyone asking questions about the stains if I had tossed it in the wash.
The only questions I did receive was "What happened to Hugo?" or "Where is Hugo?"
My simple answer: Hugo left the hotel one night to take a walk into town and blow off a little steam and hasn't returned yet.
I filed a missing person's report the night after Hugo died - I needed to make it clear that Hugo had walked away from the hotel and hadn't been found yet. The police understood that I was a mother with a two year old child - whose father had left. They started out a search but couldn't find a body - surprise, surprise.
The case turned cold and - when Jimmy was three - the case eventually became forgotten. The locals seemed to believe that Hugo had simply vanished - either by falling into the ocean to commit suicide or that an act had gone horribly wrong on the stage. Either way, the truth about what had happened would never see the light of day.
It also was during the course of those nights that people searched for Hugo that I took the opportunity to bury the man who had caused all of us so much grief. I mixed sand, dirt, and concrete together from the spare sacks in the hidden room - as I couldn't dig a hole in the hotel, as much as I wanted to. I poured the concrete mixture over Hugo's body, the bloodied bat, and clothing, covering it completely before standing back and smiled at my handiwork. Jimmy was safe now, but I should have done it sooner. The bruises and injuries would fade over time, but the memory of what had happened would always remain.
I hoped Jimmy would have no recollection of his father - that man had already done enough damage to the both of us in a short amount of time that I doubted I would ever forget.
***
I should have known that Hugo's death was just the beginning.
The hotel was slowly starting to return to normal after Hugo's "disappearance." Many of the guests apologized for what had happened, but I could only nod and thank them for their kindness. Much of the staff was relieved that Hugo was gone - it was evident in their eyes - and they fell into an eased state, knowing that the memory of his anger would fade away.
I had thought so too - until one night.
The day had been long - so, Jimmy and I had gone to bed early, tucked into the warmth of our little room where I would raise him until he was old enough for his own room. But, something had been tingling up my spine all day - like my nerves were telling me something was wrong. I awoke to hear Jimmy cooing close to two in the morning. I pulled myself up from the bed and turned the light on, thinking that Jimmy was hungry.
My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at the sight of Hugo leaning over the cradle, his hand clutched by the fingers of his son.
"YOU!" I screamed, jumping up and grabbing an umbrella from the rack, "GET AWAY FROM HIM! YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH TO US!"
"Hardly, Rosie," Hugo's spirit spoke - but it didn't sound like Hugo.
At first glance, the figure - or spector - looked like my late husband; same curled dark hair, pale skin, grinning features, and dressed in his performance clothing - a white puffy shirt, black pants, black boots, and a deep purple cape with embroidered white stars.
But, his eyes and voice were different. Hugo had more of a baritone voice - deep and, at times, hypnotic - but this voice that came from him was more lighter, filled with mirth. His eyes - that were once a playful sky blue - were yellow like a snake's, slitted and hungry.
I felt my body shake as I looked upon this creature who had come to me in the guise of my husband.
The creature pulled his hand away from the cradle, indicating for me to come closer. It was as if a rope had been tied around my waist - the strength of whatever this thing was pulled me to my son's cradle.
"Quite a beautiful boy you have," the creature spoke again, eyes shifting to look at the toddler, "It's a shame that his father couldn't look at him and see himself in him."
"I'm not sure what you mean," I answered, my voice thickening.
"My dear sweet Rosie," the creature spoke again, "Did it ever make you wonder why Hugo was so insistent on getting rid of this child - why he had to kill him, either by hurting you during your long pregnancy or after he was born?"
"I had wondered why he could hate a child with so much passion," I felt myself admit.
"The truth is because this boy is mine," the creature spoke.
The way he said 'mine' made my skin crawl - dark and alluring, possessive. But, this thing couldn't have been Jimmy's father, could it? Hugo and I were the ones to share a bed together - I never saw this creature in my life.
"I can tell you're confused about it all," the creature spoke, pulling me to look back at him, "Allow me to shed a bit of light on the subject: do you know what an Asmodai is?"
When I shook my head in a negative way, the creature continued, "It's an ancient demon that is passed from generation to generation - usually by the eldest born and male. Hugo was the eldest son in his family, thus he inherited me from his father. I am his father's son as well - although I can only be seen when I wish to be seen.
"As much as your little James here is Hugo's son, he is also my son - he carries my offspring that will grow with him as he matures. The Asmodai that has been implanted in him has also been protecting him - keeping his bones from severe damage, protecting his vital organs - it keeps him safe during his most vulnerable moments in life."
I reached in and picked up Jimmy, holding him close as the two of us looked at the stranger, "But what about the bruises? The scars? They must've left some damage at least..."
"No harm shall come to that boy until his body is strong enough to protect it self," the Asmodai spoke, a hand coming up and stroking the skin of Jimmy's head, "I often wished I had the chance to hold such a marvelous child such as he - he will go on to do great things in life."
"You're not going to take him from me, are you?"
The spirit laughed, a cold dark chuckle, "Dear Rosie, I am no longer a part of this world. After you killed your husband, you also killed me in the process. My spirit will linger - forever connected to Hugo's mind you - until the time comes for us to leave this place."
I didn't like what he was getting at, more so when he came around and placed a kiss on my forehead.
"A protection seal for you, as his mother," the demon spoke, "You've done well in saving him from Hugo. But know this - in time, Jimmy will become solely mine. You may own the hotel and be this boy's mother, but I am the true master of this place. Should you try to be rid of me, I will find you and kill you in the most painful way possible."