by J P Sayle
He strained to grasp what had happened after the blow to his head. Had anyone seen what had happened? “Oh God, what about Joe? Is he okay?” Stuart cried out in frustration when he couldn’t answer his own questions. His blank mind, giving away nothing, added to the torment.
Stuart felt the hysteria bubble up wanting to take hold and drive him straight into crazy town, where his mind could party with all the other wild ideas forming against his will. Stuart willed himself to calm, to allow his brain to function. Think for fuck sake, come on think.
Stuart’s slitted eyes roamed the room, it took him a minute to comprehend that they had adjusted to the darkness and were able to see shadows. Taking his mind off his crazy thoughts, Stuart made a concerted effort to calm his frantic breathing and focus on what was around him.
Where the fuck was he that there was so little noise? Well, with the exception of the wind, and as the island was always bloody windy, how that was going to help him was anybody’s business. His inane thoughts had a hysterical chuckle creep out past his gritted lips.
Clenching his jaw tightly, Stuart refocused his efforts on the room and what he was lying on. Using his fingers, he scrabbled at the edge, feeling along the roughened surface, wood, it’s wood. Okay, sharp wooden edges are my friend, right? Stuart ignored the negative terror wanting to tell him he was being ridiculous. Shaking his head, trying to empty out the crap that was trying to take over, instead he tried to recall Bear Grylls’ survival programmes having watched them with such avid interest.
A memory niggled at the back of his mind about fraying rope. Curling his fingers into his palm he tried to feel up the inside of his wrists, figuring out where the end of the knot was. Exploring the thickness, the plastic coating, and the quarter inch rope buoyed his spirits. How hard could it be to fray such thin binding?
He worked at the rope, ensuring it rubbed against the sharpness. Concentrating solely on what he was doing, he battled to think past the pain as the wood cut his tender skin. Sweat beaded his brow, sliding down his forehead with the effort. Stuart felt the plastic coated rope slide against his torn bloody skin, the movement adding to the pain, making him struggle to keep going.
Unsure how long he had been at it, Stuart curled his finger up to check the feel of the rope. Feeling a tiny amount of jaggedness to the previous smooth surface showing how slow his progress was, he puffed out his cheeks in frustration. The warm breath had goosebumps rising on his cold, sweat-slicked bare arms. Ignoring the chills, he worked feverishly. He was convinced he felt the ropes loosening, pushing him to continue past the aching and tiredness that was making his arms heavy.
Stuart felt the trembles wrack his body, his bleary mind not sure whether it was tiredness or the wind that was rattling against the windows seeping in past the cracks. His thin soaked T-shirt no barrier, it all just added to his abject misery. The urge to give in and sleep battled with the need to escape what was coming. Stuart heaved at the thought of what Joel could do, the bile burnt his nose. Coughing as he gulped back the vomit that threatened to choke him. Exhaling past the weight of the dread inside his chest, he bit his lip hard trying to contain the screams building inside him.
Stealing himself, he made a valiant effort to push it back, gulping in large gasps of air. “I can’t give up, I can’t. Joe is out there now, looking for me and I need to be ready for him. You hear me, Joe? I’m waiting for you.” Stuart couldn’t stop the words as he spoke to the empty room, he pretended not to hear the terror or his own lack of conviction. He clung to the hope somehow Joe or Aaden would find him and stop this torment.
Stuart sniffed up, forcibly trying to prevent his snotty nose from running over his lip. The smell that greeted him had him balking. Underlying damp mildew mixed with something rather repugnant that reminded him of stagnant milk. Taking short shallow breaths he tried to let his mind drift as he went back to his monotonous movements that seemed to drag on endlessly.
He worked his bleeding arms tirelessly, watching the first hint of light creep around the edges of the boarded up windows. His dulled mind calculating hours must have passed since Joel had taken him. The thought had waves of dizziness rocking through his exhausted body while he struggled to swallow past his dried throat. Stuart willed his eyelids to stay open even as they drifted half shut, begging him for just a minute’s reprieve.
His heavy-lidded eyes shot open, wheeling to the window at the sound of an engine in the distance. Stuart sobbed, squeezing past the heavy dread that sat on his chest, making it impossible to breathe through the terror of what was coming. His tired mind wanting only to run and hide, but his body taunted him for his own stupidity for unwittingly using all of his energy. Leaving him like a sitting duck waiting to be blown out of the water at any minute.
Stuart felt his body’s visceral reaction, groaning in utter despair when his bowels turned to water at the sound of the engine cutting off outside the building.
Fright had him freezing before the pain in his wrists reminded him to hide them. Seconds later dim light casted shadows over the room as the door burst open. Chills wracked his body, not only from the blast of cold air, but also from the sing song voice that bellowed menacingly.
“Hi, honey, I’m home. Did you miss me, because I missed you so much while I was tucked up warm in my lovely bed, but you needn’t worry, I’m going to show you just how sorry I am for leaving you.”
Joel’s scary presence had him shrivelling back, choking back the moan that wanted to escape. The thudding door closing behind him left an ominous silence, making Stuart think of a coffin lid closing, shutting out the light forever.
Stuart choked back the screams at his macabre thoughts. His gritty eyes were glued to Joel’s every movement. The jarring chuckles as Joel approached Stuart made his blood want to freeze, but his hammering heart had other ideas. Stuart was convinced he was going to stroke out, his heart was racing so hard, feeling it pulse up in his throat, almost choking him.
“Well, now what are we going to do with you first?”
Joel’s menacing words had Stuart feel his skin shrink two sizes, he was absolutely sure it was too small for his body, making him struggle to escape its constricting hold. His insides quaked at what realities that question held. A cold sweat beaded across his damp skin, Stuart could feel the cold penetrate not only his clothes but his very soul as Joel leant over him.
Stuart’s nose twitched in revulsion at the smell of rank body odour and bad breath. Joel’s foul breath touched his chilled face, making his muscles lock in terror. He felt the air back up in his lungs as large beefy hands snaked across his body, making his stomach revolt. Stuart heaved, his empty stomach wrenched and twisted in agony when Joel squeezed his crotch unrelentingly. His howls rent the air leaving him hoarse, the pain making his eyes roll back in his head hiding from the reality.
Stuart strained back into the wood beneath him, not finding any escape. His shocked system unprepared for the solid punch to his abdomen, spittle flew out of Stuart’s mouth as air whooshed out on a wail. Gasping, Stuart felt the intensity of the pain bloom inside him, hitting targets left, right, and centre. His brain struggled to adjust to his new certainty: that this was only the beginning.
Joel’s large hands unapologetically headed back to his groin, yanking hard. Stuart felt Joel’s heavy scrutiny with each twist of his large hand. Stuart writhed, feeling his tears leak past his scrunched eyes, unbearable pain morphed into a continuous monster as Joel made his penis twist and bend in ways no man should ever feel. His throat raw, each scream feeling as if they were ripping his throat to shreds.
Stuart felt his whole being was just a large ball of suffering, no beginning and no end. It was almost as if he was floating out of his body, his mind ceased to function under the onslaught of heinous suffering. Joel’s tormenting hands allowing no respite, time ceased to exist under the blanket of agony.
He barely registered the viciousness dripping from Joel’s smile as he moved around the table, before a massive f
ist connected with his face. Stuart could feel the darkness tugging him away, as his body turned to a jellied mess. Stuart felt a momentary second of relief that the darkness would take him away, before his mind shut down.
Stuart felt his awareness creep under the layer of indescribable pain, he froze playing like a musical statue when his body sang from even the merest of movements. Swallowing past the razor blades stuck in his ripped throat, Stuart whimpered in agony, frantically wishing the darkness would suck away his reality. He wondered how he still had any tears left, but he could feel them fall down his tight swollen skin, the salt adding to his misery as it stung.
Besieged in misery, Stuart felt the dread rise when he couldn’t open his right eye. Light filtered into the slit that was his left eye, moving his head gingerly he wept to see the blurry room.
He struggled to think what he’d been doing before Joel had come back. His sluggish mind taking a second to catch up, he frantically searched the dim lit room, listening for any sounds to alert him where Joel was. Stuart wheezed out an agitated breath at the feeling of emptiness in the building, ignoring his screaming body at his sudden movements, he sagged back in relief. Groaning, he sucked in greedy mouthfuls of stagnant air willing his agonised body to behave, to give him a moment.
He wasn’t sure where one agony started and another ended, but the painful numbness in his hands and feet frightened him witless. Stuart tried valiantly to ignore his shouting thoughts of how much more he could take of Joel’s idea of play time.
Sobbing past the shrieks of agony that escaped his cracked lips, he worked his swollen wrists to the edge of the wood. His thoughts motivating him to keep trying no matter how much it hurt, images burnt into his mind of what would happen if he didn’t. He let them besiege his mind, encouraging him past the torment he was putting his body through.
Stuart blinked his sticky left eye repeatedly attempting to stop it from drooping, fighting with everything in him. He brought Joe’s beautiful smiling face into his mind, seeing his melted chocolate gaze clinging to his after their last kiss. His mind clung to the love he was convinced had shone out of Joe’s eyes, he may not have said the words but his eyes couldn’t hide from him.
Stuart felt endless tears slide from his battered eyes, acknowledging the painful truth he’d hidden deep inside since Joel had kidnapped him, he had no intention of letting him go. The injustice had shouts of rage ripping past his raw throat, thrashing, no longer able to keep the anguish in. He howled and wailed at the injustice, his hope demolished under the grief. His loss devastating, his fragile control allowed his rage to consume him whole, feeling nothing other than the white heat of his anger.
Stuart felt the dense weight of exhaustion hit, his heavy gasps rang in his ears, taunting him for his own stupid behaviour. Stuart held still, distracted by a scraping noise hardly penetrating through the chaos inside him. He tried to quieten his ragged breathing, was someone there? Had he got it wrong and Joel hadn’t left at all? Immobilised by his fearful question, Stuart jerked at the sound of a voice shouting through the door.
“Hello, hello is there someone in there?”
The stranger’s voice left him breathless as hope flared to life drowning out everything else. Disregarding his shredded throat he yelled out using every bit of strength he had to answer. “Yes, in here, please help, please help me.” Stuart willed his unrecognisable voice to be loud enough to be heard.
Listening for a few seconds he felt his fear grip hard when the silence lengthened. Where had they gone?
Stuart’s heart raced at the sound of wood splintering behind his head, squealing in agony as light blinded his slitted left eye.
“Hello, can you hear me?”
The timid voice sounded like nirvana to his ears, he physically forced his one eye open a fraction to look at the blurry face floating above him. Not able to make out his features, but the freckles smattered across his nose and cheeks stood out in stark contrast to the white face. His hazy perusal interrupted when the man spoke.
“Oh my fucking God, what the hell is going on in here? What the hell happened to you, man? This is some freaky shit, really, when does this ever happen to people that live here?” The melodic voice rambled, but his pale blue eyes seemed to take over his whole face, pale skin blanching in horror as they took in the state of him.
Not sure he wanted to know how bad he looked, Stuart felt the urgency to get out push him to speak past his ragged throat. “Please untie me quickly, I don’t know when he’ll come back.” Stuart’s hoarse begging sobs had the man pulling back. Panic flared so deep he struggled to get the words to leave his mouth. “Pleaseeee …. pleaseeee …. don’t leave …. me here.” Stuart wept inconsolably, his swollen eye barely able to see what the man was doing, his fear eating at his sanity.
“I won’t leave you, but I don’t have anything to cut the rope with, just give me a second to find something to help me get you free of those bindings, okay?”
Not waiting for Stuart to respond the man scuttled away. Stuart breathed a huge sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to leave him there. Puffing his swollen cheeks out, Stuart cringed grinding his teeth together to hold onto the whimpers as his bruises sang out a tune of pain and misery. He held on to the determination he could hear in the man’s voice. A voice that, for some reason, niggled at him but not able to grasp why when nothing seemed to want to get past the one repetitive mantra his mind was fixated on, hurry, hurry, hurry.
Stuart worked harder than he had ever in his life to keep the dread at bay when his body gave a constant reminder of what would happen if he didn’t get out of that room and soon. The sound of feet clattering back in the room, had a wave of relief so huge hit Stuart his body causing him to jerk, agony again dancing inside him. Uncaring this time when the man held salvation in his hands, something, he thought that maybe a pair of pliers. Praying he wasn’t wrong and his one good eye wasn’t playing tricks on him, his lips curled up bursting open his lower lip. Giving it up as a bad joke he swiped at his wet lip tasting the coppery flavour of his own blood, balking he spat it out. Stuart almost laughed at his own stupidity when pain morphed across his battered face.
So lost in his own misery he hadn’t noticed the man grab at his swollen left wrist cutting at the rope, making him cry out in agony. “Arghhhhhh.”
The man never wavered, his apology sounding heartfelt to Stuart’s battered hearing. “Sorry, but your wrists are a mess, I don’t think I can do this without hurting you. Take a deep breath and hold it, this bit, I think maybe worse. It’s really embedded in your skin. Ready?”
Stuart’s left eye tried to focus on the shiny eyes above him, following his instructions, he drew in a large gulp of his own putrid smelling stench. Trying not to gag, he gave a small nod, gritting his teeth. Holding as still as possible, he let the other man work. His muscles quivered under the strain to stay in place as the man yanked the rope, finally freeing his wrists. Relief had Stuart moving too fast, retching he hugged his heaving stomach, pleased for small mercies that his arms obeyed. Gulping in large deep breaths through his mouth not wanting to get another sniff of himself, he held on letting the man free his ankles, his slitted puffy eye imploring him to hurry up.
The distant sound of an engine had Stuart freezing, his gaze glued to what he thought looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights. The man unmoving stared at him, the hands holding his now free ankle, quivered. Motivating Stuart into action, reminding him neither of them wanted to be there, regardless of who was coming.
“Oh fuck, quick, please. We can’t let him catch us.” Stuart’s strangled voice pushed past the razor sharpness in his throat. His mindless fear taking control, he pulled carelessly at the remaining rope around his foot. Not giving a shit what damage it might cause, his need to escape the only priority. His legs buckled as the man attempted to help him stand, the rush of blood too much to bear, the numbness filled with endless burning as his nerves fired back to life. Stuart wheezed, uncertain he could stay co
nscious as pain yanked ruthlessly at him, trying to suck him back into oblivion.
Stuart gripped on to the man’s body, willing the warm human contact to help steady him, and fight off the urge to just curl up into a ball on the floor to die. He leant against the smaller man, taking comfort in his presence for a second longer before he took a deep breath, making the hair raising agony that were his limbs, move towards the open window. The few steps had his already drenched shirt sticking to his even clammier skin. The giddiness making his head swim so viscously he felt he was on a boat in a force ten gale, stomach pitching violently, he had stop to hold on to the wall for a second before he collapsed in a big heap.
“Come on, man, you gotta move faster than this. Otherwise whoever is coming, is going to catch us both. And I for one do not want to end up looking like you, that’s for sure.” The man’s hands dragged at him as his shrill words drilled holes in his pounding head. Stuart struggled with all his might to push past the waves of nausea and dizziness, throwing his body over the ledge of the window. Landing with a thud, his teeth clattered in his head as his bones rattled making him howl, his mind begging for mercy when painful sensations gripped tightly, holding him hostage in his own body.
Pale small hands dragged at Stuart not giving him a second, he staggered up, weaving drunkenly around, unsure his feet were even on the ground. His greying vision making it difficult to comprehend which way was up as he felt a sturdy shoulder shove under his arm. The smaller man’s strength encouraging him to lean on him, giving in to temptation he leant against him, following his lead as best as he could.
Stuart tried to take stock of where they were, hoping it would help determine how they could hide or get away. The rising sun hid behind the large mountain in front of him, making him realise he was at the bottom of Snaefell mountain. Hardly having a chance to process, his mind froze in terror at the sound of the bike engine shutting off behind the building he had just left.
