She sat by her window, like she usually did. Imagining, and thinking of the freedom that she had just dreamt of, and how badly she wanted it. Now. Wanted it to be true. But the dream didn't just consist of that. There lied something else: that monster. The monster was him. Her captor. It was his voice. And that made sense. To her he was a monster, and in her dream he turned out to be an actual monster. A literal one. But what he said to her made no sense.
What did he mean we were the same? The same person? That we knew each other. That I knew him.
He's wrong! I only know him from this dreadful experience! We are NOT the same! I am not a monster. I am the victim in all of this. No. I am not like him.
But, right after that thought occurred in her head, it almost triggered something. A memory.
But, but. I helped him bury that girl. I helped him kill her in a way. I contributed. Maybe I am as bad as him. Am I? Of course I am! I helped cover a crime. A terrible, horrible, deadly, scary crime at that.
I am a monster. I helped him. Am I just as bad as him?
What's going to happen if I am found? Will I go to jail too? I did help him cover his crime. I was involved. I aided him. I could be charged. I am as bad as him! I am like him!
And then, with bad thoughts occurring, the other part of her mind kicked into action.
STOP STEPH! You need to calm down. No, you are not like him. He killed her! You saw her wounds. He killed her. Not you! He threatened you into it! He offered you things that you thought could help you get out of here! You were thinking of yourself. You were trying to escape. Trying to get out. The police have to understand that. You have been under his control all this time. They have to understand that you were trying to get out. That you were also responding to the threats he put upon you. You are not a monster. You. Are. Not. A. Killer.
Her eyes began to droop as she felt tired. Exhausted from her thoughts in a way. But she didn't want to sleep. She felt she slept too much throughout the day. She enjoyed that most days though. For if she slept the whole day, the day would go by faster. When she was awake she found time crept by at a very slow rate. Feeling like minutes were hours. And the hours, years.
However that day felt different. For some odd reason. She didn't want this day to go by fast. She wanted to look outside and enjoy the view. Even though the view was only the same group of trees, and sometimes, at very rare times, an animal would appear. She once woke up to find a deer right outside her window, almost looking in. Looking at what type of animal was locked up inside, like a zoo. But the rolls were reversed.
Another time, she saw a deer and two babies. Little Bambi's. The cute, little fury Bambi's with white spots sprinkled onto their coats. And those single animals brought her hope, or built onto the hope she already had.
Rabbits, birds, and squirrels also came across throughout the months. Which she also enjoyed seeing, and watching. She remembered when she was younger, how many times she asked her mother if they could get a bunny. She loved them. But her mother's answer was always no. They both were allergic to different types of animal hair, cats especially. But Steph didn't care, for she knew she would still love him dearly and spend time with him, no matter how allergic she was to him. But their allergies weren't severe.
Her head began to bob to her shoulders and then back up as she caught herself.
Don't fall asleep. Don't fall asleep.
She kept repeating to herself, for reasons she didn't exactly know why. All she knew was that she didn't want to fall asleep that day. She wanted to stay awake. It was nearly four'o clock in the afternoon by that time already. That day felt weird in a way. Almost like she was waiting for something. Expecting something to happen. Only she didn't know what. A strange feeling washed over her as the day seemed to drag on. And on.
Why can't I be like the animals out there in the forest. The ones who wander around and seem to enjoy their life? Why can't I be like that? I know I haven't been here for a very long time, but it feels like I have. I feel as if I've been here for years. My entire life. It seems like day-by-day, my life before disappears, dissolves. Like it never happened. All that's happened to me is this experience. Will I ever get out of here? Is this my life now? What if I tried running away too many times now, and he won't take me out anymore. There's no way out of here! I'm trapped! Possibly forever. I feel like some days, I have such high hopes of escaping, and others, like today, I feel like there is no hope. No hope of seeing my friends. My family. My mum.
Oh.
My mum. Her face is more clear now, since that day when she spoke on the news. What if that night, the night I ran away, the last thing I said to her before I left, was the last thing I ever get to say to her. My last words. The last time I saw her. When I was angry with her and ran out. Ran away from her. And right into the clutches of a monster. A sick human being.
I don't care that she lied to me. I should have talked to her. Talked it through instead of walking away. Running away. I didn't mean to hurt her like that. And now, that could be the last thing she remembers me as. An angry girl that ran away from her problems. Who wanted to get away.
No. Surely that isn't true.
And as thought after thought exploded in her mind, she became exhausted just thinking any longer, and drifted off into another deep sleep.
***
"Remember. Remember," the beast repeated to me as we continued to keep space between each other. A good ten feet by then. And I still hugged the tree from behind, gripping onto the sharp, painless bark with dear life. Hoping the monster would not pounce on me, or attack. The monster that was him. It was him. I could tell. I knew.
More fog drifted between the empty spaces, almost making each other invisible. Unseeable. The wind sat still, but the fog was in the air now; spinning and wrapping itself around everything in eye sight.
As we stared at each other for what seemed like awhile, the fog disappearing and reappearing again, he lost his aggressive, monstrous look and stopped clenching his teeth, returning his jaw to the way it naturally was, and stood up straight. The hair all over his wolf body seemed to sink lower towards him. And his dark, pitch black body turned to a silver colour, a colour much less intimidating. Returning back to the natural wolf form.
Werewolf form.
And with his new look, I seemed to let my guard down more, not being as scared of him then. Like my fearfulness seemed to be lifted and went away inch by inch. I stepped towards him a bit, but still stook close by the tree that I felt safety by.
"W-what do you mean, we are alike? We are nothing alike. I know w...what you are. You are a killer. I am not. We are....nothing....alike," I spoke back towards the creature, feeling my confidence grow the more I spoke. The beast only tilted his head a bit, like a dog who didn't understand something.
"Yes. We are alike. Maybe not physically alike, emotionally alike, or mentally alike, but, we are alike, in some way. We are. And I know, deep down, you know it too. Think Steph. I know you have thought about it once or twice. I know you have given the idea some thought. Just think Stephanie. Think real hard. And remember. Remember me."
***
"Steph? Stephanie, wake up," a soft voice whispered in her ear as someone rocked her shoulder gently.
"Mmmmm," she mumbled, not wanting to get up. Not even realizing she had fallen asleep. Her head swung from side to side as she gained more consciousness, but her head felt foggy. Like she was stuck in a daze. That was something she was confused about, for that whole nine months, she had not felt that way before.
She rubbed her eyes as she became more aware, and she realized she was still sitting in the chair.
An uncomfortable sleep.
But the outdoors were no longer bright. The sky had turned to a black by then, the only light coming from the moon that seemed to shine very bright that night.
What is so special about this night?
She would soon find out.
She looked towards her right shoulder, the one someone had just recently shook. It was only him. He looked at her with a certain face. Although she knew what the face was, she had seen it before. That expression read, it's time. Time again. Time to run into the night, towards the cemetery, and start the dig. The burial.
"We must go. It's already midnight. I don't want anyone to catch us," he spoke to her in almost a whisper, although she didn't understand why. No one else was there.
No. I don't want to. I don't want to go again. I don't want to to bury and kill another innocent girl. No. I won't. I feel different tonight. I feel like I can stand up to him. I feel like he won't hurt me. If he was going to hurt me, he would have done it by now. He won't hurt me. He freakin needs me. Needs me to help him cover his sick crimes. His murderous crimes. I won't, I will not help him anymore.
And as he finished his sentence, she only looked away in the other direction, acting like she wasn't bothered by him at all. Almost like she was saying up yours. Screw off.
"Steph? Come on," he spoke again as he began to stand up, assuming she would follow his lead. But she did not. She continued to look straight ahead at the window, an through the window at the forest. She treated it like he wasn't there, acted like his presence wasn't important, because to her then, it wasn't. He walked towards the door, thinking she would be right behind, and when he turned around to check, he realized she wasn't. He gave her a dirty look. The look read 'who do you think you are?'
He exhaled in a temper before he spoke again.
"Steph. Let's. Go," he got out through partly clenched teeth, thinking, or at least hoping that would scare her into following. But it did no such thing. She still just sat there, not bothered by him at all. He gave her another few seconds before he really got angry, walked back over towards her, grabbed her arm and swung her out the door.
"Hey!" She yelled at him, startled by his actions. "Let me go!" She tried yanking away from him as he still had a hard grip on her right forearm. His grip so tight it felt as if he was holding onto bone, not just skin. His grip sinking in. "I SAID LET ME GO!" She then screamed at him, before she yanked one final time, and at the same time, he let go, causing her to be thrown backwards right into one of the wooden walls. A large *slam* noise echoed off the walls, as it seemed to ring in her ears. She crippled and crouched down by the wall, hugging the side of her body that made the impact. The pain was throbbing, but she had felt worse. The pain was on her face, but she tried to hide it from him. Not wanting him to have the satisfaction. He quickly moved towards her and crouched down in front. He grabbed a large chunk of her hair, like on the first day, and pinned her head against the wall, making her look at him. His eyes narrowed, and looked to have the fierce fire she had once seen. The type she had seen in her dreams. His breathing was rapid as well, like he was furious. Like almost times when she stepped out of line.
"YOU LISTEN!" He began to scream at her, like he always did when she didn't understand. "YOU SEEM TO NEVER LISTEN TO ME, BUT YOU WILL NOW! WE ARE GOING DOWNSTAIRS TO GET THAT DUMB GIRL, AND THEN WE ARE GOING TO GET RID OF HER! YOU ARE GOING TO LISTEN AND BEHAVE, GOT IT?! AND IF YOU WON'T..." he trailed off as he reached into his pocket.
For the gun.
She thought to herself. And sure enough, she was right. "I AM GOING TO USE THIS! I MEAN IT!" He shouted before he turned the gun away from the both of them, in the opposite direction and pulled the trigger twice.
*BANG!**BANG!*
The gun went off, firing in their other direction, the living room. The noise sent ringing towards Stephanie's ears as it felt like she drifted off into more of a fog. A daze. And before she knew it, he turned the gun towards her, pressing it down into her right temple. But she didn't shake. She wasn't scared. She only looked at him with dead eyes, and a face that read no expression.
"Do it," she whispered to him, in a voice that she hardly recognized. The voice was utterly calm and focused, no shakiness at all. A far improvement than how she sounded the first day. Her reaction seemed to surprise him, as his expression changed from furious to confused. "Just do it. I dare you," she whispered in a little louder voice as she leaned her face towards his more. The expression of fearless. And the second time, her voice wasn't just calm, but sure. Sure of the decision.
Ready.
His reaction became a little more confused, as he held the gun to her head for a few more seconds, before he finally dropped it and put it back in his pocket.
I knew he wouldn't do it.
He then picked her back up from the ground, held her arm still in his tight grip as they headed towards that wooden door.
The basement.
Passed the old tv. Passed her favourite rocking chair. Passed the brick fireplace, and straight for the basement door.
What's down there? What if it's something I don't want to see? What if there are all dead bodies down there? What if he tortures them, and there are a bunch of deadly weapons and machines down there. What if. What if. What if!
They stopped directly in front of the old, wooden door, as he fiddled with something in his left pocket. It was a key.
The key. The key, in his left pocket.
Remember that!
Two keys jingled and dangled on a rather large ring, making that jingling noise each time they moved. The lock that lied on the door was a pad lock, which attacked through two hoops on the basement door. One hoop was on the door, the other lied right beside it, on the wall. And with that lock put through both hoops, the door didn't budge. The first key didn't work, so he moved the ring to the second key. He juggled the key up and down in the lock, trying to wiggle it to unlock, until the lock gave and opened up with a click sound. He then removed the lock, set it down on the floor, and led the both of them down the stairs. As soon as the door opened, a musty, dirty smell rushed to meet them, making Stephanie cough several times. The stairs seemed a bit steep, even more since she couldn't see, it was so dark down there. Like there were no windows what so ever. And even if there were, it would be no use. For it was nighttime, and the outdoors were completely pitch black.
Creaks and cracks came from the squeaky steps, sounding and feeling like they would break at any moment.
From all that weight lifting and carrying dead bodies.
Steph thought as a shiver went up her spine with that in mind.
As they got to the very bottom step, he turned on a light switch that was located near the stairs, on the left. Two bulbs were directly placed on the ceiling, no frame or cover covering it at all. The lights flickered on and off at first, but then stayed on for most of the time, with the light still flickering ever so lightly. To the right of the stairs lied a wide open space, wide enough to be a master bedroom. And attached against the wall, there was a counter and sink that took up most of the wall. A very large sink at that. And to the left of the stairs, there was nothing but a wall. A wall that possessed stains, scratch marks, and prints.
Scratch marks. From what? From the girls that have been brought down here? Finger nail marks?
Stains. Stains from what? The dried up blood the splattered onto the walls when he killed?
Prints? Finger prints? From all those girls? The girls that tried to escape, but couldn't? Girls like me?
No! No I don't want to be down here! I don't want to see this! I want to go back, I want to go back! I don't want to see all the crime scenes!
"This way," he whispered to her as he lead her to the right side of the stairs, passed the large, open area. And passed that, there laid a hallway. The hallway looked just like the one upstairs, except the wood upstairs had seen much nicer days. Down that hallway, three doors were sectioned on each wall, doors that attached to rooms. The scenery looked exactly like the hallway upstairs, except much darker, and less scratched up. And something else that was different: the doors had little, rectangular cut outs around eye level, with tiny bars covering it. Almost like the dungeons in mid-evil times. And as they passed the first door, they came across the second, and Stephanie's eyes wondered onto the second door on the left. She glanced at the small rectangle for a moment as they passed by, and her eyes locked onto another person. Another girl, locked up inside. She was startled for a moment, not expecting it, but she knew it would be her time soon.
Please. No. Please tell me he doesn't want me to kill her. Please! I am not a killer! I won't kill anyone! He can't ask me to do that! He can't! I need to get her out of here! Before it's too late! I don't want to see anyone else die! I don't want anyone else to die!
But sure enough, they weren't going to her door as they passed right on by, and she sighed to herself in relief, but still, in guilt. Guilt that she was being treated nicer. Fairer. That wasn't fair.
Why me? Why am I treated this way? Why am I upstairs when he locks up all the other girls down here?
And soon, they came to their destination as he stopped at the last door on the left. He grabbed his keys again from his pocket as he reached for the lock on that door. It was a pad lock as well, like every other lock in the cabin. But at that point, it was more of a house. As he grabbed the right key that time, he twisted it and jiggled it until the lock came loose, and then he took it off. He swung the large, wooden door open, and almost right on cue, a girl lied in the centre of the captive room. Steph stood there in shock, but at the same time she expected it. She could feel herself sink and her guilt start to rise as she looked at the teen that lied on the cold, hard concrete. The girls eyes, glued to the ceiling as they opened wide, indicating she was truly dead. The large pool of blood covering the floor around her, indicating the certain cause of death that had occurred. Steph was on the verge of tears as she slowly entered the tiny room, wishing the girl didn't come to the fate.
No! No! Why is he like this? Why does he find enjoyment from this? How can anyone be so sick, so cruel.
She continued to walk towards her, and crouched down beside the cold, deceased girl. Crouched down in an area where the least amount of blood was pooling, as she rose her hand, and closed the girls eyes for her, before she gave her another close look.
I saw her. She was on the news the other day. She was the one taken on the 1st of December. What's her name, Karrie something? I don't remember. But I do know she didn't deserve this. None of them did. They deserve so much more. More to life. More to their lives. It isn't fair. This isn't fair!
"Come on, we better get moving," he spoke, dragging her out of the moment she was having, as he slowly began to move towards the girl. Steph seemed to snap out of her daze she was in at the moment, all the sad and empathizing emotions going away, and anger replacing them. Anger towards him. And only him. The one who had taken her away. Away from a life she should have spent with her family; as she spoke for herself and all the girls that he took. Took her away from a life she enjoyed. And brought into a life that was full of misery and brutality. Making her help him. Making her kill in a way. Making her help him cover a body. Making her see things no one should ever see, or witness. This was all his fault. It wasn't only her he destroyed, it was all of them.
She shot a quick glance at him in a rush, the look saying 'how could you, you deserve to die'. He looked at her with surprise again. Surprise at her expression, and emotion.
"You are a monster," she spoke between clenched teeth, imitating the way he did it. And with that comment, he only continued to look at her, not daring to move as their eyes didn't leave each other. "You. Are. A. Monster. You killed them. You killed them all. You don't deserve to be on this earth. You don't deserve to have a life. You don't care about anyone. Not me. Not anyone. All you care about is yourself," she went on, speaking with clenched teeth as she began to rise to a standing position. "You took us all away. Away from our families, friends. You don't deserve to be here. You deserve to die. Not us. Not them. But you. You should be killed."
But again, all he did was stare at her. The expression not changing, staying on surprised and shock the entire time.
Shock that someone was standing up to him? Perhaps. "And I wouldn't mind being the one to do it," she spoke her final words, and with the last sentence, it seemed to trigger him, and he shot into action once again. He charged towards her in a hurry, knocking her against the wall in the tiny room.
"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!" He shouted as he reached for his gun that was in his pocket. But Stephanie didn't freeze either; she shot into action as well.
"I SAID I WOULDN'T MIND BEING THE ONE TO KILL YOU!" She screamed back as she kicked his hand away from his pocket, making his gun spill out from within and sliding to the far end of the room. They both struggled for a bit against the wall, him trying to threaten and hurt her, and her fighting him off.
"YOU STUPID BITCH!" He shouted as he attempted to punch her, but she dodged it. And that made him more angry.
Remember! You know self defence! Protect yourself! Fight back Steph! Fight back, when you couldn't last time! Like the time he took you! You froze then, don't do the same thing this time. FIGHT HIM OFF!
Her mind screamed at her, and that's all it took to get her into it. And this time, instead of her being in a state of frozenness, she was running off pure adrenaline, and anger, as she fought back with all that built up rage and aggression she had kept inside for months. As he tried to hit her again, she grabbed his arm and hit the side of his neck, a move she had learned awhile ago. A basic move. An expression of shock came across his face as he stumbled away a bit, but not enough. He charged at her again, and she quickly dodged his grip, kneeing him in his side hard, knocking him off balance a tad bit. His anger grew and grew. He turned around again, as she dodged it like the last time, turned around to his back, grabbed his arm from behind and pushed him against the wall face first with as much force as she had. As the impact came, his nose was the first to hit, and he fell to the floor with a loud thud, but he wasn't hurt too badly, only shocked. He laid there for a few moments, but was fully awake.
I need to get a weapon. I need to kill him! Or at least knock him out!
She looked around for the gun, but it was no where in sight.
It was just right here!
She thought to herself. And that panic feeling came back into play. But knowing he would be up at any moment now, she gave up on the gun and ran out of the room.
She fled down the hallway and straight towards the open spot, by the sink in the main area. She searched and searched among the cupboards and counters, trying to find something, anything. And then suddenly, close to the sink, something caught her eye: a large piece of wood. She made a beeline towards the wooden stump, and quickly hid behind the corner as she heard footsteps coming from the hall. Stuttering, stumbling footsteps at that.
"Stephanie!" He shouted in a raspy, horse voice. "Steph!"
She held onto the board in her tight grasp, waiting for her chance to strike. Her heart racing fast, her nerves spiking high as she was the most terrified she had ever felt. Those clammy nerves spreading within her, as she swallowed a large lump in her throat, and those nerves of terror only spiked higher with every footstep she heard coming closer. "Stephanie!" He shouted again, but much closer at that point. And with all those nerves inside her, she held onto the wooden board tighter, holding onto the grasp and waiting for the time to attack. "Steph!" And with that last shout, Stephanie turned the corner and swung the piece of thick wood at him in full force.
*WACK!*
The board made a big, loud sound as it made impact with his head. Then he fell to the ground with another loud thud.
Success.
Steph looked down onto him as she dropped the board as well. A small pool of blood began to pour from the side of his head where the gash was as he laid there unconscious. And a sigh of relief escaped her mouth. But she didn't stop there. She got into action again, remembering the keys he had in his pocket. She quickly reached into his left pocket, pulling out the two keys on the silver ring. With the keys in her hand, she ran towards the second door on the left of the hallway, where she saw that girl through the bars. She grabbed the pad lock in a hurry as she inserted one of the keys into the lock. And that one was the right one. The lock opened with another click sound as Steph quickly took the lock off and dropped it on the floor. She then yanked the door open, and right there in the corner, was the girl she saw before.
She was also on the news. I saw her. She was the one who disappeared on the 14th of December, only a few weeks ago. Valerie something.
She looked up at Steph in utter shock and confusion. But another look also shined in her eyes. A look Steph knew, and had felt herself.
Hope.
"Come on," Steph said to her as she walked over and held out a hand towards the frightened and terrified girl. And she took it with no hesitation. The two girls ran out of that room in a rush, and towards the stairs in almost a flash of time. The girl locked up looked a few years younger than Steph, but not too much. She had her dark hair in a ponytail, but knots and scruff consumed it. She looked filthy, but that was expected considering where she had been for the passed few weeks. Steph on the other hand looked clean and fresh, considering she showered almost everyday.
As they got up to the main level, they walked quickly towards the front entrance as Steph unlocked the pad lock.
"Wait. I've seen you before," the girl suddenly spoke up to Steph as she tried to get the lock to budge. "Aren't you, that Stephanie girl? The one who went missing in March?" She asked as she tilted her face more towards Steph more, trying to get a glimpse. And as Steph finally opened the front entrance, she met the other girls eyes. And they stared off at each other for only a few seconds, the only two surviving girls, until they snapped out of it quickly, and realized there was no time.
"Yeah," was all Stephanie said before opening the door towards her. "Now go. Run. Run away from here and get help," Steph spoke to her as she could feel the wind from the chilly, night air creep into the cabin. But the other girl only gave her a confused look.
"Aren't you coming with?" She spoke in a gentle, and nervous voice. Her eyes full of concern.
"No. There's something I need to do first."
And with that last sentence, she pushed the girl out the door as she ran off into the dark forest, and Stephanie hoped, and prayed she would find help soon.
As the girl ran off into the night, Steph left the door wide open as she went back to the basement. She slowly stepped down the steps, hoping he was still on the ground, and sure enough he was. The pool of blood increasing since the last time.
Did I kill him?
She thought as she slowly made her way towards him. She crouched down slowly beside his motionless body, lifted his ski mask ever so slightly, and placed two fingers on the side of his neck, checking for a pulse.
*BumBum**BumBum*
His pulse still detected. That was not what she was hoping for. But inside, she hoped he was dead, however at the same time, she wanted him alive.
Who is this man?
She thought to herself as she looked down upon the hooded man. She gulped down hard at the bile she thought would rise, and among the bile butterflies flew in her stomach. With a steady hand, she reached down to the bottom of the black mask, and in one swift move, she tore it off fast. She glanced down at the man, her captor, with curious eyes as she studied him more closely.
Who is he?
A hint of familiarity came to her mind as she focused more.
I swear. I swear I have seen him before. Just, where?
Is that why he wore a mask? Because he knew I would recognize him? Except I don't know where I've seen him. I forget. All I know is that I have see him before.
And she had. Perhaps way in the beginning, before any of that had started. Before she was taken. Maybe on a day where she visited the cemetery, looking at a specific little girls grave. Cindy Miller's grave. And as a man in the cemetery spoke behind her, which scared her a bit. He knew her name.
But with none of that coming to her mind, she still looked down at him in curiosity, thinking and trying to remember. She studied his features more, looking over his hair and shape. His hair was cut short, like most guys wore it. But, a hint of wave came from the roots and it flowed slightly. And the colour of honeysuckle lifted within it, adding a bit more texture to it. And his face. How it pointed down into a triangle almost, a very soft triangle at that. Features she had also thought she had seen as well.
Only, where?
Ugh.
You know what?
I don't care. At this moment, I don't care where I've seen him, or where I've seen those features. I just want him dead. I want him to suffer the same way we have all suffered.
To get back at him. Only, how?
She thought to herself as she looked and glanced around at all the equipment and objects around her.
I can't use the board again. That won't kill.
And then suddenly, her eyes fell onto two jugs of gasoline. And almost in an instant, an idea sparked up in her head.