I knew she wanted to help and felt relieved she had already to an extent, but she wasn’t here. I figured I would head back to my dormitory, so I carefully placed the watch and the diary back in the vent. I felt pain for Mallory. She was as imprisoned as the rest of us here. We were all lambs in the slaughter, waiting to die. Something in me changed that night.
The bravery to leave the room, the adventure I had been on to find out Mallory’s truth, and see my watch; I felt invincible, empowered. I went to the door in front of me and didn’t even count to myself before trying to open it. It was locked. I chose my resting place for the night and settled on the gurney in the room. I had to hope it was only Mallory that found me.
The next morning, I awoke to a rather terrified Mallory, who quizzed me as to how I got there. I told her every single detail. She stressed about how to get away with it.
“I don’t know how to explain how you got here, Sebastian. We’ll both be in trouble if he finds out.”
Knowing how dark and cruel Father could be, she devised a plan to explain how I got to the nurse’s station. It involved smashing the glass on the cabinet full of drugs, then slashing me across the top of my head. I don’t feel as though I had a say in the matter. She did it without thinking, and I gritted my teeth and winced somewhat.
“Sebastian, you brave boy,” she stated as she choked up. “I’m so sorry I had to do that, I’m just as bad as them.”
I reassured her that she wasn’t, as I understood this was the better of any other possible outcome. I didn’t want to end up like Erin. Before long, she was working on my head, stitching me up. I told her I worried about how far things would go before someone had the strength to speak up and protect us, but in a more innocent way given my age.
Mallory began to well up a little at my statement; perhaps realising she had to be the one to do something. She told me I really was incredible, and that Cyril was right, I really would grow up to be something. It was only a compliment because she was the one saying it. We talked and joked a little bit, before she cautiously asked me if I read her diary. I stayed silent, and she told me she promised not to be angry if I was honest with her.
I came clean and said I knew she was Robert and Alexia’s mother. She wept at the revelation, almost as though I was a trusted friend sharing a secret. She begged me to keep it secret for the sake of the kids, as they didn’t know. She was worried Father would use it against her, or the children if they ever found out; not to mention, she was worried other children might treat them differently if their mother was part of the staff. Something hit home with that one, as I knew from our coded messages just how much we felt disdain towards the orphanage staff, excluding Mallory though.
I couldn’t predict how people would react, and I was playing with a big secret, so didn’t want to do anything that might harm someone else. I asked her why she hadn’t left with the kids already and she merely responded it was complicated and patronised me a little by saying that was an ‘adult’ conversation.
Strange considering how we had opened up so much already. She probably realised she was crazy for talking to a child about it all. I certainly didn’t feel like a child. The last couple years made me grow from a child to a teenager. I was nearly seven, going on seventeen, and had the mental capacity and intellect of someone even older, courtesy of my real parents, intuition, and empathy I picked up along the way.
Mallory flustered a little more as she finished patching me up and put a plaster on. She told me to say that I tripped and banged my head on the end of my bed, which was a weak lie in itself, but she beefed it up a bit by saying she came to the dormitory after hearing crying, then noticed I was bleeding so tended to me before breakfast. I bought into it and that was enough for her to escort me back to the canteen where my brothers and sisters were having breakfast.
The other kids looked on in amazement to see me join them at the table. Mallory announced I was silly and that’ll teach me to run in the bedroom and bang my head. The other kids accepted the lie and before disappearing into the building, Mallory whispered in my ear and told me to be patient, she’d see what she could do.
The military march back to our dormitory was swift, and when the door closed behind us, the other children were quick to quiz me on where I had been all night, surrounding me until I came clean. Some of them said they hadn’t slept because they had been so scared. I told them all what happened, minus a few details, and they laughed when I said about the chocolate bar in the maintenance room. That’s when I realised Alexia wasn’t there. I asked the others where she was, and they said when I didn’t come back for a few hours, she went out looking for me and hadn’t come back.
I felt genuine fear. I climbed in my bed, went under the covers, and cried real tears for the first time in nearly two years.
It seemed like anyone I got close to in life ended up missing.
I felt alone.
Chapter Seven
Thoughts of impending doom circulated in my mind. I was screaming a silent scream, full of panic and dread because the love of my life was in danger. Why did this always happen to me?
Thoughts flew back to my childhood where I felt worthless, where I felt conscious of my loneliness. It really was true. Any time I fucking got close to someone, something bad happened. I was a walking nightmare. I felt as though I had broken one hundred mirrors, had a herd of black cats walk in front of me. I felt like the unluckiest man on the planet. Destined to be unhappy.
Arthur Henderson, I will fucking kill you if you hurt her. That bastard laughed down the phone. I’ve been playing his stupid fucking game, almost admiring him for getting my brain ticking, admiring him for almost making it fun. I felt sick. I felt my stomach churning at the fact I had enjoyed our chase up to this point.
He had just taken something from me. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Then it happened. I vomited on the bus station floor. I vomited some more until I was dry heaving, trying to will something up. I pulled myself to my feet and worked my way over to my mobile phone I had thrown across the room. It still worked, thankfully. I curled up in the corner of the lockers and pulled my phone to my ear, in a startling resemblance to my younger self in the maintenance room when I escaped my dormitory.
I tried calling Arianna. Straight to voicemail. No doubt the bastard had discarded the phone as well. I called Michael.
“Hello?”
“I need you, mate. I really fucking need you.”
Realising the desperation in my voice, and that I couldn’t speak, Michael flipped that switch in his brain which almost brought him back to military mode.
“What is it, Sebastian? Talk to me. Slowly.”
I struggled to find the words. “He has her.”
“Whoa, what? Who has who?”
I was fighting back tears of desperation.
“He has Arianna, Michael. Arthur-fucking-Henderson has my wife.”
Michael didn’t know what to say. He was stunned. His words of reassurance fell on deaf ears because I knew there was nothing that could be said or done to make me feel better.
Arthur had been taunting me since the beginning of this case and decided to make his coup-de-grâce a stinging stab to my heart, by taking the person that means the most to me in the world. If anyone ever wanted to hurt me, they’d only need to take away the person that matters most to me or destroy my father’s watch. I clutched on to the latter as tight as I could, whilst listening to Michael ask questions.
“Where are you? I’m coming to you.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t shut down. Focus, Sebastian. Get your head in the game.”
“I’m going to head home. Do me a favour, grab everything you can out of the situation room and bring it to my house. I’m going to find this fucking creep. I won’t catch him if I’m chasing from behind. I need to fucking get in front of him. I’m going to kill him, Michael. I’m going to fucking kill him!”
“I know how you feel. I’ve felt helpless before. Just don’t do
anything stupid. As for the evidence, I’ll make it happen. I can be there in about an hour given the detour to the station.”
“I don’t have an hour, Michael.”
He paused. I felt my voice shaking and screamed again.
“Give me forty-five minutes.”
I ended the call. The nice, friendly gentleman for the bus station staff poked his head around the corner having followed the latest scream. He took his crown back. He was once again the happiest person in the place after I foolishly chose to boast about besting him. He could see I was in crisis and offered to help before assessing the vomit and look on my face.
I briefly apologised for the mess I left on the floor and flashed my badge, so he didn’t feel the need to call the police, or an ambulance. I walked away from the lockers with my mind spinning. I was reliving that moment when Arianna left me again and again, only this time felt worse because of the obvious risk factor. I felt as though she was gone, forever. I was giving up hope of seeing her again. My heart twisted, my stomach churned, I felt genuine pain like I had never felt before.
Stop! Just STOP! You are better than Arthur, Sebastian, you can find him.
My walk turned into more of a jog; I had to meet up with Michael and figure this out. I kept my phone handy just in case Arthur called back. He’d crossed a line. Whatever game we were playing before, the rules had just changed. He crossed a line that no one had ever crossed. I was going to find him and be the one to put him down. Not for Jessica, not for little Sebastian, not even for Arianna… I was going to put him down for me.
Fire filled my heart. I felt a deep-seeded rage inside me. Throughout my entire life, I had managed to keep evil thoughts and feelings suppressed. The good in me was enough to rise above. God knows I had every right to have turned into someone like Arthur because of the loss, the pain, the beatings, the abuse, and the loneliness. I let it shape me, but I grew from it. Arthur’s act, taking Arianna, was enough to let the beast inside me out. I felt conflicted as I was thinking dark thoughts that I never knew were inside me.
The drive to my house was quick. I broke a few laws, not caring if I was stopped. I’d have just flashed a badge if I were. I pulled up against my house, seething with anger and brimming with pain.
“Hi, Seb! Thanks for the drink the other day,” said the kind mechanic that fixed my vehicle.
I rudely walked right past him, bumping into him as I stormed by. I said my thank you in the pub, don’t try and be my friend. I turned the key to get in my house and looked out to the world as I stood at the door. The kind mechanic, Al, I think his name was… he looked at me quite flabbergasted. I had obviously offended him, though he did have a slight look of concern given my obvious demeanour. I gave a weak nod of acknowledgement as I closed the door on him, on the world.
I paced up and down the hallway, waiting for Michael. I heard the ticking of the clock as my pacing matched every long, painful tick.
I moved to the dining table, littered with old newspapers, magazines, and letters. There were some envelopes stamped with ‘urgent,’ probably bills but nothing mattered quite like what was going on. I lay across it; arms outstretched and then pushed everything off the table in one fell swoop. The noise of the papers flying everywhere, loose pages gliding in the wind as I’d given them a boost.
I stomped through to my old, unused office and dragged out a whiteboard. The clicking of the wheels as I dragged it through to the dining room and the sudden bang as it hit the doorframe altered me to my current whereabouts. Realising I had jammed it in the door and appreciating my recklessness, I readjusted the whiteboard to manoeuvre it through the door frame.
I looked at some old pictures on the wall, pointless frames with stock photographs of landscapes in them just to fill out the room. She chose them. She felt the wall was too bare and required some colour. I threw them across the room, clearing some wall space, and then stopped suddenly at a photograph of us. She was so beautiful, her bright teeth and smile grinning from ear to ear.
That was the day I proposed. I had taken her to the top of Eidolon Hill, a neighbouring hill surrounded by nature overlooking the city. It was where she would often sit and think, then do her writing. It was incredibly peaceful and high enough to negate the hustle and bustle of the city, replacing the sounds of the city with the sounds of the birds. I asked her to marry me that day and she was so happy she cried tears of joy and hugged me so tightly her makeup ran on to my shirt.
I felt a tear in my eye as I looked at the photo. It calmed me but didn’t shake off how real this was. As much as I looked into Arianna’s eyes, I knew what was at stake. I had to find her. I had to save her, or I’d only ever be looking at them again in a picture.
The door crashed open.
“Sebastian?”
I didn’t respond, as I was looking at the photo.
“Sebastian!” Michael stumbled into the dining room. He looked right at me, frozen in place with a lost gaze. He scanned the room, witnessing the upheaval; as though my house had been robbed.
“Whatever you need, my friend. Let’s find her.”
I couldn’t say anything. I kept looking at her face, the tear that built up in my eye started to roll down my face. The day she made me the happiest man in the world was right in front of me, framed beautifully on the wall like a window to the past. I wished I could jump into the frame just to hold her one last time. I felt as though I could still smell her from our liaison.
“She didn’t deserve this, Michael. She didn’t…”
Michael listened, without saying a word.
“If I knew what she would go through by saying yes to that question. If I knew the pain and the hurt this day would cause, I would have run a mile, saved her from it. From me.”
Michael placed his hand on my shoulder reassuringly, adjusting his stance to face me, his back to the photo I was gazing into.
“I can’t bear the thought of losing her again, Michael. Arthur Henderson is as good as dead. Why the fuck didn’t you shoot him? Why didn’t you put that beast down?”
Michael looked at me with a slightly defeated face. I knew it wasn’t his fault, but I was projecting my pain. I was projecting my anger.
“I…”
He turned to me.
“I didn’t mean that, Michael. I just wish that bastard was dead. She doesn’t deserve this. I dread to think what that fucking animal is doing to her. It kills me. My heart is sinking so fucking low that I don’t know what to feel. I need to save her. I need to save her to save myself. If I lose her.”
I stammered, unable to find the words. Michael’s hand tightened on my shoulder, as impishly comforting as it was. My gaze hadn’t left Arianna’s eyes in the photograph.
“If I find him, Michael, I’m not sure what I’m capable of doing. I want to kill him myself.”
I snorted, as though accepting my fate and the path laid out in front of me.
“You have to help me find him.”
The angel on my shoulder was starting to contend with the demon on the other.
“Michael, just promise me that if we do find him and she’s not–”
“Don’t think like that, Sebastian,” he scolded me.
“Just promise me you’ll save me from myself.”
Michael nodded silently. He knew the stakes. He knew how serious I was. I probably had the same look in my eye he was used to seeing when he served in the military. I had entered a battleground, and for once, I was happy with the company. Michael would likely save me from myself.
The angel on my shoulder didn’t want me to lose myself in the process. The smallest part of me thought about what Arianna would think and want. I was already thinking as though she was dead. I knew what Arthur Henderson was capable of. I knew what he could do to her and part of me hoped that if death was fated for her, it would be swift and painless.
That single thought that entered my mind was enough for the devil on my shoulder to silence the angel once again. The single tear that had rolle
d down my face dropped and the newfound silence in the room allowed it to be heard as it crashed against a loose newspaper page from my earlier manhandling of the room.
Michael let go of my shoulder and turned away. He started heading towards the exit and swung the door open. I finally broke my gaze from the photograph. Fuck him then. If he doesn’t want to help, I’ll do this myself. As I pictured how it looked, he stormed out. Thoughts of when Arianna left caused me to switch my gaze back to the photograph. I exhaled deeply, only this time as I looked into the past, I didn’t look at Arianna, and I looked at me. I looked at the man I was, and who she helped me become. All the pain growing up, the way I was made to feel in Fort Rose, to the panic attacks and anxiety I had felt throughout the years; I felt alone.
That’s when Michael walked back in the room, clutching a box.
“I grabbed everything I could from the situation room,” he said as he kicked the front door shut.
I smiled, realising that I hadn’t lost my partner after all. I was quite taken aback with my negative thoughts. Interestingly, I also just referred to him as my partner. Maybe I was okay with the idea of it. I mentally scolded myself for assuming he was leaving, though appreciated its just that I was used to being left alone.
The box was thrown on to the dining table and we emptied the contents, inanely chatting about what our strategy would be.
“What do you think you’ll find in all this stuff? It’s just crime scene photos, riddles, and red herrings. He taunted you, Sebastian. You can’t expect to see much, surely?”
I walked over to the whiteboard and flipped it over to reveal what was on the back. I had left images, Polaroid photographs, and theories regarding Arthur. Michael assessed them jaw-dropped, picking up one of the photographs of Arthur outside his house, smiling. He then grabbed a second photo, one of Arianna casually shopping.
“What the…?”
“He’s been taunting me for a long time, Michael. It almost became a game. A game I enjoyed playing. It seemed that whenever I started to get close, he’d send a new photo, which is what would make me get lost in the chase. I’d look back at crime scenes, but, I’ve been going stir crazy trying to make the pieces fit. I’ve been going mad.”
Dancing With Devils Page 13
