Sick Fux

by Tillie Cole

  “That wise?” the guard said. “Not sure we want anyone else in with them. They’re bad enough without adding a third. Don’t wanna make them any more dangerous.”

  The warden paused. “I see what you’re saying. It’ll be hard for the guards to get to him for pleasure, with those cellmates.” He flicked his hand. “But there’s no choice. He was a last-minute addition. It’ll have to do. Anyway, he’s just a kid. What harm can he do?”

  The guard huffed in annoyance and shoved me forward. He led me up several sets of stairs. On every new level, I saw cells holding three or four men. Some licked at the bars. Some pointed at me, threatening to kill me. I felt no fear. I’d kill any of them who came close to me.

  Sick fuck after sick fuck after sick fuck.

  We came to a stop at a cell, and the guard took a gun from his holster. He held it out into the darkness of the cell. He quickly opened the door. When I didn’t move, he shoved me inside, clanging the gate shut behind me, and immediately backed away. I spun around, hands fisted, watching as he walked back down the steps.

  A cold shiver ran down my back when I felt someone watching me from behind. “And who do we have here?” said a deep voice from the corner of the room.

  I heard a rustle as someone else moved from another corner. I was surrounded. “A little Dapper Dan if his clothes are anything to go by. Slacks, shirt and vest. All black. Suave for someone so young . . . impressive.”

  I squinted into the darkness. A single dull lamp sat on the back wall, but whoever was in here with me was shrouded by the darkness. Then I saw a flash of white to my left. Someone stood. I held my ground, my hands grinding into fists, ready to fight.

  “Look at this, Henry. The little Dapper Dan is ready to take me on.”

  “Good. He’ll need that kind of strength in this place,” a rougher voice said from my right.

  Two footsteps sounded on the stone floor, and a man came into the light. A man with long blond hair down his back. He was dressed in black pants and a white shirt—both were filthy. He looked young. Maybe in his twenties. He put a hand on his chest and bowed dramatically. “The name’s Chapel.” He straightened, then smiled. He was handsome, with an accent I hadn’t heard before. He sounded rich, like he had money . . . sophisticated. “Welcome to the Water Tower. The keeper of all things dark. Like the trophy chest of the most fucked-up collector of the underworld.” He smiled wider. “I, as they might say, am a ripper of sorts.” My brow creased as I tried to understand what he meant. “Too much for you to comprehend?” He nodded. “You’re young. You may not have come across stories of men like myself yet.” He came even closer. “I have a, shall we say, unhealthy obsession with women of the night, and like to cut them open in the most delicious of ways.”

  I swallowed, but never let my eyes leave his. He laughed and fixed the gold cufflinks on his shirt. “Lawyer by trade. Something of a young hotshot, you might say. Ivy League–educated, years before my peers. But alas, I’ve been here two years now.” Chapel looked into the far corner and flicked his head. He rolled his eyes when whoever was there didn’t move. “Henry, we have a guest. Introductions must be made. That is proper etiquette.” Chapel shook his head at me. “Yankees, you see. No manners, unlike my southern self.”

  There was silence from the darkened corner, and then someone moved. A tall, well-built, brown-haired man stepped into the light. His hair was long too, but his was brown. He had the lightest brown eyes I’d ever seen. They looked almost golden. He looked about Chapel’s age. Maybe a bit younger? But a lot older than me. “This is Henry,” Chapel explained. Henry glared at me but said nothing. He only pushed his hair back from his face. “Now, Henry here is a doctor.” Chapel tapped his head. “Of the mind. A psychologist.” He laughed. “Quite ironic, no?”

  I was wondering what Henry was in this place for when Chapel added, “Henry here has never done anything wrong. He is an innocent.” Suddenly, Henry’s eyes closed, his teeth clenched, and a strained sound ripped from his throat. His long hair fell back over his face. His shoulders rolled forward, the muscles in his neck and shoulders bulging at the movement. The change in his frame made him look huge. Bigger and more intimidating than before.

  When Henry’s eyes reopened, he glared at me again. But this time he was different. His eyes were narrowed and tense. His nostrils flared and his hands rolled into fists.

  “But this is Hyde,” Chapel said. “He is . . . not so innocent. Let’s just say he likes to watch people die . . . under his expert hand.”

  “I like to watch that too,” I said.

  Chapel smiled a surprised smile. “Splendid!” He winked.

  “Though not as much as I like to kill them myself,” I added. Hyde stood straighter, a flicker of a smirk pulling on his mouth.

  “Henry and Hyde are two different people living in the same body,” Chapel explained. “One always fighting for dominance over the other. A multiple personality disorder is the scientific diagnosis. Henry is a professional. A straightlaced man. Quiet. Reserved. Hyde . . . is quite the opposite.”

  “What is this place?” I asked, looking around me. I didn’t care what these men were. I just needed to get out. I had to get back to my Dolly.

  “Where those who want us gone have sent us.” Chapel tipped his head to one side. “But you are so young that you have piqued my curiosity. How old are you, Dapper Dan?”

  “Twelve,” I replied. Chapel’s eyebrows rose. He looked down at my hands and smiled.

  “Blood on your hands? Literally? Young Dapper Dan . . .” He tutted, then laughed.

  “They hurt Dolly. They touched her. Touched her like they fucking touched me. Her eyes . . .” I felt my hands shake. “They made her cry. Her papa. Her uncles . . . they made her bleed . . .” I stopped when I felt like I would explode with rage.

  “Then I would say you were justified in spilling that blood,” Chapel remarked, his smile fading.

  “I need to get back to her. I need to save her. Stop them from hurting her more. I’m not there to protect her. She’s all alone. She—” I shook my head, thinking of Dolly. “She’s too fragile. She won’t be able to cope with what they’ll do to her. I know it. She . . . she’ll . . . they’ll destroy her. Not only her body, but her mind. She’s . . . different. Too delicate for this world.” I turned to the barred door and shook the metal. It didn’t move.

  “We all have people to get back to, whether that be for revenge, protection or affection, but we have to bide our time . . .” Chapel said. “I just realized we did not learn your name.”

  I didn’t turn around. I stared at the winding stairs that led back to the warden and his closed iron door. The door that led to the outside world. “Rabbit. My name’s Rabbit. The White Rabbit.”

  “Well, Rabbit,” Chapel said, moving beside me. “We all plan to get out someday. And someday that will happen. Until then we wait. You will soon realize that all we do in this tower is wait. We plan and we scheme. We plan for the day we once again see the sun and seek revenge on those who thought they could hide us from the world.”

  Three months ago . . .

  The guards never came close to our cell door.

  Eleven years. Eleven years I had waited. I heard the guards, of course. Heard them enter the other prisoners’ cells. Fuck them. Torture them. Do whatever the fuck they wanted to them.

  But never ours.

  Hyde and Chapel had made sure of that.

  Hyde and Chapel had nearly escaped a year before I arrived. Hyde had ripped a guard’s throat out when he had come too close to the bars. The guard was too cocky. He had taunted the monster within Henry. Until the monster was freed and killed him where he stood.

  “We won’t fail again,” Chapel had told me shortly after I arrived all those years ago. “When the next opportunity arises, we will succeed.”

  So when a new guard started . . . a guard who couldn’t keep his eyes off Chapel’s good looks, opportunity burst in Chapel’s eyes.

  A smile here.
>
  A wink there.

  The closer the guard came.

  A fly to his sticky trap.

  I twirled the needle in my hand, the one that Chapel had used to draw my tattoos. The needle thrown into my cell when an infection had almost killed me. The infection was bad, but I wouldn’t let myself die. I needed to get back to Dolly . . .

  “Why are they helping me?” I asked Chapel through gritted teeth as I stabbed the needle into my leg.

  “Those who paid a handsome sum to place us here want us to live. For living is punishment, Dapper Dan. A lifetime spent in a dank, dark cell. Most at some point have wished for death. It is easier than enduring this day after day.”

  My eyes were steel. “I haven’t wished for death,” I bit out as cold shivers accosted my body. “I won’t die without Dolly.”

  Henry moved to sit beside me, throwing his shirt over my body for warmth. “And that is what makes you different. You and Chapel.” He huffed a humorless laugh. “And Hyde. I would like nothing more than to be put out of my misery. I welcome the peace that death would bring. But Mr. Hyde within me won’t ever let that be . . .”

  I sat back in the dark. The pack of cards I had drawn was safely in my pocket. All but one. The one of my Dolly. The one Chapel had used to draw the tattoo on my back. Her perfect image and likeness. The picture that kept her alive in my head as every day in the Water Tower grew longer and darker.

  I looked up as the new guard passed by our cell for the third time in the last thirty minutes. Chapel was already on his feet, waiting for him. His shirt was off, his chest and torso bare. The guard’s eyes flared when they landed on Chapel. Chapel walked slowly to the bars, running his hand over his chest. Then his hand dropped further down to his cock. Hyde stifled a laugh beside me as the guard almost fell over himself at the sight.

  When the guard moved away, Chapel came and sat beside me, waiting for him to return again. Every day, he amped up the seduction.

  “You like him?” I asked, narrowing my eyes on Chapel. I owed him, Henry and Hyde everything. The guards never once touched me, out of fear of them. Chapel taught me math and literature and art. As an artist himself, with only sharpened stones and walls for his tools and canvas, he had taught me everything he knew. Henry prepared me for what state I might find Dolly in.

  Hyde had taught me how to kill.

  All I needed now was to put it into practice.

  Chapel rolled his head my way. “He is young and not too hard on the eyes.” He smiled, then leaned in closer. “I can appreciate the male form, Dapper Dan, but I’m afraid cock does nothing for me. I am partial to a whore’s hot, wet pussy . . . then her dying in my arms afterward, of course.” He shrugged and sat back. “Though I am not opposed to using my . . . God-granted wiles to help our cause.” His brushed back his long blond hair. “I am the quintessential narcissist, Dapper Dan. I believe my unrivaled looks can win anyone over.”

  He was right.

  As the days passed, the guard came closer and closer to the bars. Over the months he had snuck us paper, card, pencils and pens. I had created my cards. Chapel had used the ink to draw my tattoos.

  All at the request of Chapel. All because of his seductive efforts with the cock-hungry guard . . .

  “You will not kill me for touching you, will you, Dapper Dan?” he asked as he hovered over my bare skin with the needle and ink.

  “Just do it,” I said through clenched teeth. As his hands touched my skin, I thought of Dolly. It was the only way I could stop myself from attacking the man that had kept me alive and untouched this far . . .

  I awoke with the sound of something clattering against metal. I shot up, my eyes trying to see what was happening. Chapel was naked . . . and had the guard by his throat against the bars. Chapel’s hand covered his mouth. The guard flailed, trying to get away. I jumped to my feet, but Hyde had charged to the bars, my needle in his hand, before I could even move. He stabbed the needle into the guard’s neck.

  Hyde held the guard as Chapel reached for the keys on his belt. In seconds, the door was open. I stared, fucking stared at the open door, heart slamming in my chest. Chapel seemed to be as shocked as me as he hovered on the invisible line that separated the cell and the freedom beyond.

  Chapel glanced back at me, and a huge smile began to pull on his lips.

  He stepped over the threshold and relieved the guard of his knife and gun. The guard’s blood trickled from his neck wound and ran down his body. My breathing increased in speed at the sight of the blood. Unlike most people, blood didn’t repulse me . . . it made my dick hard.

  I walked to the falling blood like it was a magnet drawing me in. Hyde looked back as the guard’s eyes began to drain of life. I was no longer paying attention to the open door, too focused on the seeping wound on the guard’s neck.

  Hyde smiled, showing all of his teeth. “End him,” he instructed. His neck cracked as he rolled it from side to side. “Use the darkness that lives inside you. Think of the all the things I taught you… and finally use them.”

  A knife was suddenly in front of my face. I looked up. A still-naked Chapel was holding out the guard’s blade for me to take. “We need to be quiet,” he whispered. “Best not let the other guards know we are free. Surprise will be the key here, Dapper Dan.”

  I took the knife.

  I stared into the guard’s eyes.

  And I plunged the blade right into his heart.

  I twisted the knife, hot blood coating my tattooed hands. “I want more,” I rasped, only removing the blade when the guard’s eyes froze in eternal sleep.

  “Then we should proceed,” Chapel said and readied the guard’s gun. Hyde lowered the guard to the floor, keeping hold of the needle. And we moved. One by one we took down the guards until there were none left.

  We stopped at the door that led to the stairs that promised our freedom. All of us were silent as we stared at that fucking door. Eventually, Chapel threaded the key into the lock and clicked it open. Turning, he took all the keys he had gathered and threw them into the other cells. The sound of doors opening accompanied us as we raced up the stairs we had been led down so many years ago.

  When we burst into the dark night, I gasped, the fresh air scalding my lungs. Hyde moved beside me, and I caught his hands clenching into fists from the corner of my eye. He broke into a sprint, heading for a house. “The Warden,” Chapel said, then followed Hyde.

  Feeling my blood thrashing through my veins, I let the adrenaline take hold and ran too. As I burst through the door, I heard the sound of screaming from upstairs. Chapel made it to the bedroom just a second before me.

  The Warden and his wife were lying in bed, their blood seeping from the stab wounds Hyde had inflicted on them. Hyde was panting, out of breath, eyes lit with bloodlust.

  Chapel walked to the closet and pulled out a shirt and pants. When dressed, he said, “We need money and a car. I’ll get the keys for the car, you two find cash. There’s no way this fucker kept what he was being paid in a bank.”

  Thirty minutes later, we were in a truck, Chapel in the driver’s seat. Hyde called shotgun, and I took the back, bags of the Warden’s money surrounding me. I stared out the window as we crossed states, driving to one of Chapel’s secret houses. I thought of Dolly, and the plan I had concocted with the help of Chapel and Hyde.

  For the next few months I planned my return, gathering the information I needed to make it all go without a hitch. I trained to kill with Hyde. I worked on my detailed plan with Chapel. Bought clothes. Had weapons made. Conversed with the corrupt private investigator Chapel knew from his days before the Water Tower.

  After three months, I was ready.

  Ready to come back for my girl.

  Ready to lead her down the rabbit hole.

  Ready to kill with her by my side.

  Chapter 5

  Heathan

  Rabbit

  I took the box from the trunk and stood at the bottom of the stone stairs that led to the ma
in door. My hand flexed around the rabbit head of my cane, my teeth gritted together and my jaw clenched.

  Dolly, I reminded myself. You’re here for Dolly.

  Cracking my neck, I narrowed my eyes on the front door and took the first step. With every footstep taken, I smelled the smoke from their cigars. I heard their breath in my ear. But I kept going. I kept going even though I heard their grunts, their laughs . . . felt them above me, rocking back and forth.

  “You’re ready to get your darlin’?” Chapel had asked me several days ago.

  “My Dolly,” I had shot back.

  “Your little Dolly darlin’”. He had smiled and bowed like he always did. “Then, young Dapper Dan, send her my loving regards, and Godspeed.” A slow smile. “May the devil be firmly on your side . . .”

  “Dolly darlin’,” I repeated under my breath, glancing up to the high windows I knew were hers. I turned the knob on the door, the old wood creaking loudly as it opened. A cloud of warm air hit my face. Air filled with a thick, stale dust. I stepped into the hallway, my eyes immediately relieved by the lack of light. My eyes didn’t like the light after being in the dark for so long. I looked to my left and saw a mass of white sheets covering the dining furniture. The first living room was the same. Everything was covered. Hidden away, like they had never existed. Like this fucked-up house of hell didn’t have secrets and screams trapped in its walls, pulsing as one passed. Didn’t have the echo of kids’ cries and pain.

  Didn’t vibrate with depravity.

  Brow furrowing, I looked down at my hand on my cane. It was shaking. I hissed, my head tilting to the side at my body’s rare display of emotion. I never felt anything. Nothing, save the urge to kill and destroy those who destroyed us.

  But then there was Dolly . . . there were the memories of this damned place. The shadows that sought me out at night, forced me to constantly relive the feeling of violation. The demons of the past that made me replay each moment, every puff of breath on my ear, every sliver of sweat-soaked skin sliding against my own.