The Velvet Collar

by C. P. Mandara

  I screamed and began pounding my fists against the locked door. It wasn't to attract anyone's attention, for I knew no one would come running, but I needed an outlet for the rage that had overtaken me. Watching Mark nearly drown had killed something inside me, something I would never get back. If he had died I would have been responsible, and that on my conscience wasn't something I'd be able to drag around with me. Would the end game be worse? Almost certainly. Was there any way we could play Kyle at his own game? Unlikely.

  More fist pounding ensued. It was either that or bawl my eyes out, and if I started that I wasn't going to be able to stop. This wasn't how my life was going to end. God couldn't be that cruel, could he?

  I was shivering in a bedraggled wet heap in the corner when Kyle and one of his goons came for me. Shoving a hood over my head, they twisted my hands behind my back and fastened them with metal cuffs. I couldn't have posed much of a threat to them with the blindfold, but they were taking no chances apparently.

  "Where are we going? Where's Mark? What have you done with him?" My questions were met with deaf ears. Marched down the stairs with little idea of what I was doing, in the end the pair practically carried me as I was more of a hindrance than help. That was their problem.

  They led me through a series of rooms, which smelled old and musty, confirming what I'd already thought. The house was abandoned. No one knew we were there and no one was coming for us unless my mother was a mind-reader. Mark and I were on our own. Hoping he had some excellent ideas on how to get out of the place, I stumbled along blindly until the smell of chlorine hit my nose. Oh God, no. Not again.

  Struggling instinctively my body used its remaining strength in trying to break the hold of my captors. If they thought they were dunking me in that icy pool again they had another think coming. If I had my hands free I'd have gouged out some eyeballs by now, but unfortunately they were firmly twisted behind my back. Think, Jennifer, think. There were no answers to my problem, though.

  Pushed into a chair the cuffs were removed, but before I had a chance to lash out my wrists were tightly bound. This time the restraints felt thicker. A belt, perhaps? When I flexed my wrists there was a little give in the material, so leather was probably a good guess. Waiting patiently for them to take the hood off, I realised it was very quiet in the room. There wasn't a murmur or footstep to be heard. Nothing.

  "Hello?" I yelled. There was no answer, and the only sound that filtered through my ears was that of the water dripping over the edge of the pool and back into the filter. They'd left me? Why? Were they waiting for something? And then it clicked. They were getting Mark. Nothing would begin without my husband in attendance. But why keep me blindfolded? Had they done something awful to him? My mind ran riot as I started thinking about the worst things that could have happened. With Kyle in charge anything was possible.

  As the minutes ticked by I began to assume the worst. My adrenaline levels were already jacked up to an all-time high, and there was a looming threat in the back of my mind that Kyle was going to kill my husband. I knew it wasn't an idle threat. I just hoped he hadn't already done it. What had Mark been thinking, coming to rescue me? If this got him killed I would never forgive myself. Ever.

  "Oh my God. Jen. Get her out of there now, you bastards. Get. Her. Out. Now." Some kind of scuffle ensued, and I heard Mark grunt in pain before he roared, "Get off me!"

  "Stop it, don't hurt him!" I screamed.

  "Shut up both of you, before I decide to gag you. And for one of you that would be almost certain death, so I'd keep those lips zipped if I were you."

  Mark shut up immediately, and as I had no idea what we were dealing with I figured it would be sensible to do the same.

  An eerie silence settled over the pool and the hairs on my body began to stand up on end. It felt suffocating beneath the dark, damp interior of the hood, and I struggled to breathe. My body wanted to kick out and struggle, but I knew the effort would be wasted and would only upset Mark. This was a waiting game, and I'd just have to sit tight.

  All of a sudden my hood was whipped off and Kyle stood next to me, his trademark sneer plastered all over his face. Glancing around in panic, all I could see was water all around me. The chair I was sitting on was suspended on one of the platforms from earlier, and this didn't look good. What was he going to do to me? My eyes anxiously swept the outskirts of the pool, looking for Mark. I found him on the far side, right in front of me, tied to a similar wooden chair. He wasn't in the pool, though. What was going on?

  "You two lovebirds enjoying being reunited?" Kyle stroked his knuckle down the side of my cheek, and I winced. Mark's eyes flared with hatred and he shot forward in his seat, but there was nowhere for him to go. "I thought so." Kyle put his hand behind me, and I turned to find two large chains attached to the arms of my chair. "Your turn to get dunked, Jen. It's only fair, right? How long do you think you'll last? As long as your husband? I very much doubt it. Know this, though; I'm not coming back into this room until twenty minutes is up at the very least, so if you want to live you'd better give it your best shot, or say your goodbye's now. Any last words?"

  If there were, Kyle didn't want to hear them. He walked over the little wooden footbridge he'd placed upon the platform and when he got to the other side, pulled it towards him. His retreating back could then be seen, as he and his goons left the room. There were no escape routes left for me. This was happening, and there was nothing I could do about it. You need to stay calm, Jen. If Mark managed to get through his ordeal, the least I could do was try to get through mine.

  "Mark, I..."

  "Save your energy, Jen. You're going to need it. Concentrate on taking deep breaths, and when you go under blow out bubbles really slowly, so you're ready to take another breath as soon as you come up. You need to stay as still as possible and don't talk. This isn't goodbye, you just need to concentrate, okay?"

  The sound of the platform underneath me whirring into motion made my eyes flutter downwards. My chair began rocking as the platform started to sink beneath the water. The chair tipped forward slightly, dunking the tips of my feet into the pool and I sucked in a gasp. It was so cold. So damn cold. I didn't think I could do this again.

  The next noise I heard was the sound of the chains beside me being lowered, and my face bore a horrified expression as the water began to slowly creep up around my waist. Already chilled to the bone, I wasn't relishing the thought of going under. Could I last twenty minutes? Did I have it in me?

  "You can do this, Jen. Don't think about it. All you need to worry about is breathing." Mark tried to keep his expression calm as I began to descend into the water, but I could see lines of angst tightening his features. I guess he had a rough idea of what I was in for, having been through it first-hand.

  When the water reached my neck I began to stutter in panic, nearly losing the plot, as I waited for the water to crawl over my face. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. The words repeated themselves over and over in my head, but it did no good. It was happening, and I had to deal with it.

  "Tip your head up and breathe, Jen. One last big breath. You can do it. Breathe!"

  Following orders I did as he said, and then closed my lips tight as the water closed in all around me. It sucked the light and colour out of my world in an instant. There was no sound down there, just the gentle lapping of tiny waves as the chair continued on its journey to the bottom of the pool. My hair flapped all around me, twisting in never-ending circles around my face, but I kept my eyes tightly closed. I didn't want to see this. If I somehow managed to survive my ordeal, I didn't want any images of this nightmare to haunt my dreams.

  The chair took its time hitting the bottom of the pool, and there was a moment of stillness when its journey was complete. I had expected it to rise immediately, and when it didn't my heartrate began to increase. A few seconds ticked by as caterpillars crawled all over my skin and butterflies tried to escape from my insides. I thought I would explode from fear,
but the chair then began moving upwards again with a jerk, making me release a stream of bubbles from my lips in relief.

  When I got to the surface my lungs were screaming. Tilting my head to its highest point I waited for the water to run down my face before opening my jaws for a giant mouthful of air. Sucking in painful breaths, over and over, I didn't hear Mark. I knew he would be shouting out words of encouragement, but I didn't have time for that now. All I wanted to do was get air into my lungs.

  I felt the moment as the chains tightened and jerked to their highest point. Another moment of stillness, where I swung about in mid-air, contemplating the descent back into the artic unknown.

  "Laurel won't let you die here. She'll come for us. Just hang in there, Jen." His hands were working the leather straps that held him, but there was no chance they would give. "Head back Jen, get in as much air as you can."

  The chains jerked again, and that meant the descent had begun. Mark kept shouting words of encouragement, but he was sounding frantic. I didn't hear what he was saying; too traumatised by what was about to happen.

  This time Mark didn't have to tell me to tip my head back because I was desperate to get as much oxygen into me as possible before the ride began again. The journey up and down probably wasn't any longer than a minute, but I found it impossibly hard to hold my breath for that length of time. On my first try I hadn't taken a deep enough lungful, so I wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

  As I went under I counted the seconds in my head. One and two and three. Once I knew roughly for how long I had to hang on it would give me something to aim for. This time around the fear wasn't as bad, but the cold was worse. The water bit into my skin like tiny shards of glass, each burrowing as far as they could to do the maximum amount of damage possible. Icy cold water is quite an impressive tormentor, all by itself. Twenty and twenty-one. It wouldn't be long before my fingers and toes were completely numb and after that, my body would start shutting down whatever it could, in order to keep my heart beating. A pleasant thought. Think of something else. Thirty and thirty-one. My lungs were burning. Think of something other than that. You could still be pregnant. Christ almighty. You want to think of that now? For some reason being pregnant didn't scare me as much as it had earlier. I could probably put that down to the near-death experience that was coming. Forty-one, forty-two. My chest was now so tight all I could think about was air and the last ten seconds of my ride seemed like an eternity.

  Bursting up through the water, I took in great wheezing breaths as I tried to replenish what I'd lost. Mark was still talking in the background, but I was oblivious. My ears were full of water, and I didn't have the energy to shake it out. Instead, I opened my eyes and feasted upon him. He would get me through this. If I gave up, not only would I let Kyle win, but I'd lose the only thing I'd ever cared about. I couldn't let that happen. I had to remind myself what was at stake. Laurel would come for us. She'd get us out. We just had to hang in long enough for her to find us.

  Up and down I went. Up and down. The count from one to fifty became very familiar as the icy graveyard tried to claw its way into my body. At first I focused on Mark, my happy place, trying to forget my surroundings and predicament. This worked for a time. Then lack of oxygen got the better of me. I tried to gasp for air before my face was above the waterline, and I'd come up coughing, spluttering and choking. Mark's face now appeared haunted, as if he was bracing himself for the worst. I couldn't bear to see him like that.

  Although I hadn't counted how many times I'd been under, I was sure I must have been halfway by now. Not that it mattered. There was no way I was going to make it past twenty minutes. My lungs weren't equipped to deal with this kind of stress, and I was now lightheaded. My face weaved around in the water, this way and that, and a pleasant euphoria began to settle over me. I didn't need anyone to tell me that was bad. These were all signs of hypoxia, and proof that I was getting nowhere near enough oxygen into my blood.

  Up and down, up and down. My teeth were chattering so hard it was painful to keep my jaw clamped together. When would this end? I couldn't feel anything any more, either, because everything was numb. My eyes were now tightly closed too. Opening them would require me to face what was happening, and I wasn't ready to do that. What should I do? Did I say goodbye? Tell him I loved him? I should probably do one of those before I gave up. It seemed the right thing to do.

  Up and down. Up and down. This time when I came up, Kyle was standing over Mark with a gun, pointing it at his head. There was the soft snick of the safety being removed, and then he turned around to face me, his eyes burning brightly with a rabid look of crazy excitement. So the moment had come. I heard a loud bang that echoed around the room. Screaming my head off I rode back underwater, unable to see any more. That was when I realised I still had my eyes closed. I hadn't seen a thing. This was in my head. I was going mad. The lack of oxygen was causing hallucinations; the beginning of the end. Although I'd never expected my grave to be a watery one, there were worse places to die, I guessed. If there was ever a good place to die, that was.

  The next time I came up breathing would be the last. I was choking so badly there was barely any opportunity to take a breath, but I did what I could. Mark was yelling desperately in the background, but my head couldn't piece together a single coherent word. He then tipped his chair over, struggling to get out, but the restraints wouldn't budge and there was nothing he could do. There were tears in his eyes as he pleaded with me not to give up, but there was no fight left in me. Everything was too cold and exhausted. What kind of sick bastard made a husband watch while he killed his wife in front of him?

  It hadn't been twenty minutes. This was it. The next time I came up I would not be breathing. Blinking my eyes open one last time, I drank him in before diving to my death.

  Chapter Twenty-Four - Mark

  I remember screaming. I screamed so loud I made myself hoarse, but I kept on making as much noise as I could, hoping against hope that someone would come running. They didn't.

  I would have given anything in the world to trade places with my wife. Watching her suffer had been the cruellest torture imaginable, made even worse because I was utterly helpless to prevent it. I just sat there, watching her choke and freeze to death. The last time she came up she'd coughed up a lungful of water, so I knew she wasn't coming back. She hadn't had enough time to take any air in. Besides, she'd be so cold by this time she'd barely be able to keep her eyes open. I knew exactly what she was going through, and how much effort it took to stay alive under that kind of pressure. Even so, I anxiously watched the waterline, hoping that somehow she was still breathing while praying for a miracle.

  It was the longest minute of my life watching those chains move up and down, and I'm not ashamed to admit tears were pouring down my cheeks. This was more than any human being should have to endure, and there were no limits to the lengths I would go to in order to reap my revenge. If Kyle killed my wife I would make it my mission in life to kill him or die trying.

  When the chair came up my eyes were blurry, and I had to blink several times for them to clear enough so I could see again. I was now sideways on the floor, having managed to knock my chair over, and my head was resting in a shallow pool of cold water. I didn't care. My eyes were focused on the top of the chair that was now being pulled out of the water.

  As soon as I saw her slumped shoulders and head I screamed in agony. Jen's skin had taken on a bluish pallor, and she looked like a ghost, with her wet hair whipped all around her face.

  "Know what this is?" Kyle barged into the room with a large yellow case and waggled it in front of my face on the floor. I went mad, kicking and clawing at the restraints that held me, needing to get my hands around the bastard's neck.

  "Pay attention, Mark. This little box might bring your wife back to life. It's important that you listen to me because every second you waste will mean there's less chance of getting her back."

  I shut up immediately. It was a
defibrillator pack, judging by the big green medical symbol on the box. As the water had been bloody cold there was a very real chance that little box could get her back for me.

  "You need to sign over all of your worldly possessions to Jennifer. We have a will drawn up; all that's required is your signature. As soon as you've done that we'll do what we can about bringing her back to life." Kyle looked at Jennifer's slumped body and shook his head. "I wouldn't think too long about it, though. She doesn't look good, does she?" The concerned expression he was trying to adopt made me see red, but thankfully sense and reasoning somehow managed to win the day.

  "I'll sign anything you want and right now, just get her back," I yelled.

  Kyle motioned for Harry and Freddie, who had just got Jennifer out of the chair, to commence CPR and he set the box down beside them. Righting my chair, he then held out a sheaf of papers in front of me and pointed to several places where I had to sign. I did so as quickly as I could, with a hand that was shaking so badly I feared it would fall off.

  Meanwhile the thugs had dragged Jen's T-shirt up and were applying electrodes to her chest. They'd pulled her clear of the pool and had her on the deck at the end of the room. One was doing chest compressions and breaths, while the other switched on the device and began following the computerised instructions. The whole thing felt completely surreal, like an out of body experience, but unfortunately I knew for a fact it wasn't.

  Signing on the last dotted line I handed the papers back to Kyle, but I didn't take my eyes off Jennifer for a second. Please come back, I begged silently. Please come back. We'd been here once before, Jennifer and I. She'd come back to me then, but could she do it again? The law of averages were probably against it, but I wasn't going to think of that now.

  When it was time for them to begin the first series of shocks they stood well back and waited for the machine to do its job. Waiting on the opposite side of the room with my heart in my mouth, I watched her body anxiously for any kind of response, but there was nothing. No, no, no. The next series of shocks began and ended with the same result. This was it. I had better brace myself for the worst.