Caged By Them: Descent Into Darkness

by Callahan, Kelli

  Oh fuck—she’s never called me before. Fuck.

  “Hello? Katie?” I grabbed my phone and pressed it to my ear.

  I wasn’t prepared for what Katie was about to tell me. The phone nearly dropped out of my hand when I heard her words and managed to process them—my brother, Wyatt, was dead. He had taken his own life. I didn’t know how to respond. A numbness swept over me and the words got trapped in my esophagus. I finally managed to thank her for calling me and let her know I would tell the rest of my family. After I put the phone down, Katie ran into my office and hugged me. I didn’t really care for her touch, but I was so overcome by grief that I didn’t care. I wouldn’t be the only one shedding tears. Wyatt was well-loved by everyone at our family’s company. Most of them hoped he would be the one sitting in my chair—but he wanted to get married and have a family. I never thought he would be the kind of man who would take his own life. I couldn’t even process what could have led him to that point.

  “I—I need to call Reynard.” I swallowed hard and squeezed my eyes closed to fight the tears.

  It was the middle of the workday, which meant Reynard was likely at a strip club or balls deep in a whore. I hoped it was the former because he wouldn’t answer his phone if it was the latter. He answered the phone after the first ring and I managed to choke out the words before he told me that he was on the way. The next call needed to be to our mother, and I wasn’t sure I had the strength to tell her that her oldest son was dead. Word spread quickly through the office, and by the time Reynard walked through the door, I had received condolences from several of my employees.

  “There’s no way he fucking killed himself!” Reynard pushed his way through the door wearing anger on his face instead of grief. “He wouldn’t do that! He loved life!”

  “Reynard, you’re just upset.” I held up my hands. “Have a drink—otherwise I’m going to drink the whole bottle before I work up the courage to call Mom.”

  “Open another bottle.” Reynard snatched the bottle off my desk. “I’ll call Mom.”

  “You don’t think we should make that call together?” I tilted my head to the side.

  “And what? Put her on fucking speaker phone so we can tell her Wyatt killed himself?” He waved me off and walked towards the door. “I’ll call her.”

  It was probably for the best, although I didn’t like the idea of Reynard telling her that he didn’t believe Wyatt took his own life. It was going to be hard enough for her to process what happened without him filling her head with a theory when he had none of the facts. I poured another drink and bought three tickets to Chicago. I wanted to leave on the next flight. I called Abigail into my office and laid out instructions for the time that we would be gone. Normally, that responsibility would fall to my brother if I was away, and it was going to be the first time I asked one of our Vice Presidents to step up—I hoped they were able to handle the responsibility.

  “I’ll take care of everything.” Abigail wiped a tear away from her eye and stood. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “We’ll pick up on Mom on the way to the airport.” Reynard stormed back into my office with the bottle in his hand missing half of the liquor it had when he left.

  All we could do was arrange for a car and do what had to be done. I was in tears. My mother was bawling. Reynard—well he just had an icy stare on his face—like he was blaming the world for what Wyatt did. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to reason with him. I gave that up long ago. I could either go along with his delusion or find myself grouped in with the people that he laid blame on. That was how he coped with people. He carried a lot of darkness around inside of him as it was, and if he was forced to feel true emotions, he normally handled them by lashing out at those around him.

  * * *

  One month later

  “I’ve got something.” Reynard pushed open my door and barged into my office—while I was in the middle of a meeting with one of our clients.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Hawthorne. Reynard, I’m in an important meeting right now.” I looked up at my brother, but the determination on his face suggested that he wasn’t leaving.

  “I need to talk to you.” He held up a stack of papers.

  “It’s okay.” Mr. Hawthorne smiled. “I think we’re done—obviously this is important. I’ll assume it’s about making me more money.”

  “Of course—that’s what we do here.” I put a smile on my face and shook his hand before he left.

  “I told you he didn’t just kill himself.” Reynard slammed my door as soon as Mr. Hawthorne was on the other side of it. “Take a look at this shit.”

  “What is it?” I looked down at the stack of papers as he threw them on my desk.

  “He was being blackmailed—blackmailed by some little slut on the Internet.” Reynard pulled a chair close and sat down. “Look at these chat logs. I matched the dates—right after he agreed to her price, he transferred fifty-thousand dollars to a bank account in Wisconsin.”

  “I mean—that’s horrible.” I scanned the chat logs, blinking in surprise at the exchange. “But fifty thousand dollars would have been nothing to him…”

  “I bet she came back for more.” He grabbed a page and turned it around so that I could see it. “Right here, she threatened to tell Katie everything if he didn’t wire her the money.”

  “But—he paid her.” I tilted my head to the side. “Right?”

  “Yes—but she had her teeth in him by that point. She was going to bleed him dry!” He grabbed one of the pieces of paper and squeezed it in his fist. “This fucking bitch is going to pay. I’m going to find her.”

  “Are you sure she was asking for more money?” I started reading through the logs.

  “She blackmailed him for fifty thousand dollars! Do you think she would have quit once she had him against the fucking ropes? There are a lot of video chats—see right there.” He pointed at a spot where the typing seemed to stop and was followed by a note stating they were live chatting. “I bet she recorded him.”

  “Okay, let’s say you’re right.” I put down the papers. “There’s not much we can do. We can call the cops and tell them she blackmailed him, and they might arrest her—but then what? It’ll end up in the papers—it’ll tarnish the company name.”

  “We made a vow.” Reynard’s jaw tightened.

  Fuck. I was just trying to make him think I was on his side. I never expected it to come to something like this.

  “I’ll honor it.” I sighed. “We’ll find a way to make sure she pays for what she’s done without jeopardizing the company.”

  Hopefully, Reynard never finds her. I’m scared of what he might actually do if he does…

  Reynard took Wyatt’s laptop after his funeral, and once I saw what he found, I was glad that he did. Wyatt didn’t leave a suicide note and while that left his wife with no answers about why he was gone, it was probably better that she didn’t know the truth. As far as she knew, she buried a husband that was faithful to her—loved her with all of his heart—cared for his children. She didn’t need to know what made him snap—what made him close his garage door, drink a whole bottle of liquor, and start his car so that the fumes could end his life.

  * * *

  One month later

  “I found her.” Reynard walked into my office and slammed a piece of paper down in front of me. “Her name is Elizabeth Abernathy—she goes by Lizzy. Oh, and get this shit—she’s right here in New York.”

  “I thought the money went to Wisconsin?” I looked up at Reynard.

  “She has a private LLC in Wisconsin and a bank account registered there under the company name. Once the money is deposited, she wires it to an account in the Caribbean to cover her tracks before she transfers it to her real account.” He nodded. “She’s a smart little bitch, I’ll give her that.”

  “Wow.” I looked down at the paper. “She’s only eighteen?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded and took a seat. “She’s been on her own for about a year n
ow—pulling this shit on people. Wyatt wasn’t the first or the last, and she’s still doing it—think about all the people she’s fucking over right now.”

  “How did you find all of this out?” I sighed as I realized that Reynard was definitely going to do something about it—and he was going to want me to uphold my vow.

  “I spent a lot of money—luckily, we’ve got plenty.” He nodded quickly. “Now let’s talk about what we’re going to do when we get our hands on this little slut.”

  I didn’t want to have that conversation with Reynard, but I had no choice. I made a vow—and I would have to honor it. We never broke a vow to each other, even if it was one I made in the heat of the moment, never expecting it to come to something like what was in front of me. Reynard wanted to take her—put her in a cage—punish her. I knew my brother was twisted and his sexual fantasies were quite—diverse—but what he was talking about was cruel, even for him. I started to worry that he was seeking revenge and using it as an opportunity to satisfy one of his own sexual urges in the process.

  “Okay, make the arrangements.” I nodded and reached for a bottle of liquor.

  Maybe that will buy me some time to change his mind or come up with an alternative. God help us both if I can’t.

  Lizzy

  Present day

  I stared into the darkness and tried to make sense of my situation. The man who put me in the cage definitely wasn’t one of the guys I ripped off. He was too young. I went after older guys—guys that could afford to spend money and would do so to make sure I kept their secret. I also took a lot of steps to protect myself. It would be almost impossible for someone to track me down—unless they wanted to spend a lot more money than what I asked for. After I got the money I was after, I disappeared from their lives. They never heard from me again. Everything associated with the identity that blackmailed them was deleted. I created new identities online constantly and it wasn’t uncommon for me to use dozens of them at one time until I found a mark. Neither of the guys who took me were old enough to land in my scope when I was looking for targets online.

  If this isn’t about the people I blackmailed, what could it possibly be about?

  The only thing that I could possibly imagine being serious enough to land me in the cage was my illicit online activities. If that was the case, I could easily confess to them—but what if it wasn’t? What if the guys who took me were just sick individuals and I would be giving them more ammunition to use against me? I was terrified of what they would do to me—or at least the one I had seen since I was locked in the cage. He resonated darkness—almost as dark as the room I was in when the light was turned out. There was something sinister in his stare—something behind those onyx-colored eyes that I didn’t understand. I had to figure it out. That was the key to my survival.

  I waited in the darkness for what felt like another eternity. I was thirsty again. My shirt got me a glass of water, but it didn’t get to drink all of it. The water that soaked into my clothes had dried, so I knew hours had passed—possibly even another day. If he made me give up an article of clothing for water and food, it wasn’t going to be long until I was naked. Then what would he want? The thought of that terrified me. Would he make me desperate enough to consider it? I wasn’t even desperate enough to sell my body when I left home—not really. I just sold an illusion. I was positive that an illusion wasn’t going to get me out of the cage.

  I wondered if the men I trapped in my lies felt like I was feeling in that moment—trapped—with no way out. I gave them one. I gave them a price. The man with onyx-colored eyes hadn’t named one yet. Or had he? Truth—confession—penance. How could I tell the truth when I didn’t know what truth he wanted to hear? How could I confess when doing so could expose things that could be used against me? How could I pay a penance if I didn’t know my sin? I felt myself sinking into the madness of the darkness again, my lips dry, my body weak—and then the door started to open. He was back—and it was time for me to bargain for something else because I hadn’t eaten in so long that my body was in dire need of sustenance.

  “Sweet Lizzy.” He walked around to the back of the cage. “My, you’ve made a mess in your bucket.”

  “I didn’t have a choice.” I swallowed hard.

  “Would you like for me to empty it?” He tilted his head to the side.

  “Yes.” I nodded, keeping my eyes focused on him.

  “What price will you pay not to smell your own filth?” He leaned down and tapped the bucket. “I’ll even make it worth your while and agree to empty it every time I return—if you meet my price.”

  “What price?” I exhaled sharply.

  “Your shoes.” He motioned to my feet. “Give them to me.”

  If I refuse, will I anger him? I don’t like the smell, but my shoes could get me food—water.

  “One shoe…” I squeaked out and hesitated when I said the words, afraid of the repercussion.

  “Now it is going to cost your shoes and your socks.” He responded without even blinking at my offer. “Do you want to keep negotiating?”

  “I’d rather have food or water.” My shoulders slumped forward.

  “Fine, I’ll give you food and water for your shoes, socks and blue jeans.” His jaw tightened. “Then we’ll see what price you have to pay for me to empty this bucket tomorrow.”

  This is just getting worse… I better quit while I’m ahead.

  I didn’t want to have to pay the price, but I realized it was my only choice. If I refused his offer, I was running out of things to bargain with. Food and water were necessities, even if he just threw them on me like he had the first glass of water. I removed my shoes, socks and blue jeans—which left me in nothing but my bra and panties. I felt more vulnerable without my jeans than I did without my shirt, but when he left the room and returned with a tray—I was no longer upset with his price. The tray was filled with food. Fruits, vegetables, cooked chicken, and there wasn’t just water—there was a can of soda as well. I was still distrustful though, even as my mouth salivated—he had tricked me once with the water. There was a chance he would trick me again. I held onto the bars as he got closer—and then he put the entire tray down in front of me.

  “Thank you.” I reached through the bars and grabbed a piece of chicken with my hand, immediately biting into it.

  “Enjoy your meal, sweet Lizzy.” He started walking towards the door—but he didn’t turn off the light when he left.

  I devoured everything on the tray, even the stuff I didn’t like—I didn’t even stop eating when the food made my stomach hurt. I didn’t know when I would get a chance to eat again. I couldn’t waste the food. The water was like sweet nirvana on my lips—and the soda—that was heaven. I hadn’t gone more than a couple of hours without caffeine since I was a kid unless I was sleeping and having a little bit in my system was like tasting an addiction, I didn’t realize had left a dull ache in the side of my head until it was gone.

  Now what?

  I started looking around the room, looking for any sign of where I was. I hadn’t had much of a chance to do it previously when he was in the room and I was so focused on what I needed at the moment. The room had plain white walls that were empty and a marble floor. There was no furniture in it except for three chairs and a small table. The cage itself had been bolted to the floor as I suspected, and the marble around the bolts was cracked. The most disturbing part was the fact it had no windows—just empty white walls all around me. I assumed it had to be some sort of interior room of a house, just based on what could see. The door started to open again, and I turned my attention towards the man with onyx-colored eyes as he entered the room.

  “I trust it was a good meal?” He sat down in the chair closest it to my cage.

  “Yes.” I nodded and looked up at him.

  “Are you ready to confess one of your sins to find out if it’s the one that put you in the cage?” He chuckled under his breath.

  “I—um…” I looked down at t
he floor.

  Oh god. Think of something. Think of something fast.

  “I’ve stolen money…” I swallowed hard and slowly lifted my head.

  “Go on.” He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes.

  “That’s—that’s my confession. I’ve stolen money.” I nodded quickly.

  Maybe I’ll get a hint—something that tells me if I’m on the right track.

  “Such a vague confession.” I heard a growl resonate from his throat. “I guess a vague answer is all your looking for—you’re in that cage because you’re a very bad girl.”

  “How—how do I get out?” I had him talking—I prayed I could keep him talking—I had done that before with guys I talked to online.

  “Confess all of your sins and atone for them—accept your penance.” He chuckled again. “But you’re not ready for that yet. You still have a glimmer of hope in your eyes—one that says you might get out of this without giving in. You won’t.”

  “You’re just talking in riddles.” I sighed and shook my head. “If I have to atone for something, then tell me what I’ve done wrong. Give me a hint—something.”

  “Fine.” He nodded. “Give me your bra and I’ll give you a hint.”

  Oh god. I only have two pieces of clothing left on my body. But if I refuse—the price is going to go up. This may be my only shot at figuring it out with giving him more than my bra.

  “Okay.” I reached behind my back and unsnapped it—then I let it fall around my arms before finally removing it and exposing my breasts.

  Now the only thing I have left to bargain with is my panties.

  “Good girl.” He nodded and picked my bra up off the floor once I tossed it outside of my cage. “So pretty—such a gorgeous body.”

  “You promised me a hint.” I looked up and crossed my arms across my breasts.