Dancing With Devils

by Scott Webster

  “If you don’t hurry up, she’ll think you have cold feet,” was what I heard as the door was expertly kicked open. It was my adoptive father, Henry Galleta. We’d become remarkably close as I was growing up and there was no better person to be my best man.

  He spun me around, breaking my gaze with the mirror, and sorted my tie properly.

  “Son, you look horrible. I wouldn’t worry though, I think all good men experience this pre-wedding nervousness. Been there, done it myself,” Henry stated, filling me with reassurance.

  “How do I look?” I stammered.

  “You look incredibly handsome, my boy. I am so bloody proud of you, you know that?” He hugged me and I felt a sense of calm wash over me. I was always comfortable around Henry. He was a rock in my formative years, helping erase the memories of the past.

  He ushered me out of the room and the clicking of our shoes created a symphony down the hall. The inane chatter of the wedding guests buzzed in the air like a busy restaurant. I looked at the clock and we were minutes away from the rest of my life; between me and some large wooden doors.

  I pulled at them to hear an almighty creaking sound, the echo of the rusted hinges breaking everyone into silence. I walked through the doors with Henry closely by my side and the guests turned their heads to see what the disturbance was. Eyes were fixated on me and I scanned the room. I felt like I was a child again, walking into my dormitory when I first went to the orphanage. The comparative thought caused me to inhale sharply.

  “Stay alive, son, stay with me,” Henry chirped in, sensing my discomfort. I looked down the pews at the guests and my adoptive mother, Isabella. She was beautifully turned out and had a tear in her eye as she watched her husband and son walking down the aisle. She smiled and blew me a kiss, which only served to make me smile back in return, weakly.

  As I stood next to the priest with Henry, the guests fell silent, except for the occasional whispers anticipating the stereotypical wedding bells to chime with Here Comes the Bride filling the room.

  Time felt so slow as I stood waiting; I felt as though I was the hangman being led to the gallows and waiting for the executioner to just get on with it already. I was still so nervous, but joyful. It was an awkward nervousness because it was all borne from a positive place. Realising how stupid I was being, and following a fatherly stare from Henry, I gave myself a shake and exhaled. At the end of the day, I was going to marry the woman I loved and nothing, not even the demons on my shoulders were going to get me down.

  The first note from the song hit the room like a freight train. The melodies filled the air and emerging from the hallway and coming into view through the wooden doors, was Arianna. She was beyond beautiful. I was so awestruck by her that I felt a tear forming in the corner of my eye.

  She wore a classy bridal gown, nothing too ornate, nothing too fancy; it was flawless. Her figure was complimented perfectly with the colour of the pure white dress gleaming in the room, radiating her angelic beauty. Whatever demons that followed me were surely scuttling away, incapable of laying their eyes upon her.

  Every footstep she took towards centre stage made my heart thump, every note from the bridal song pulsing through my body as I stood awaiting her. My heart was beating out of my chest because the love I had for that woman was so pure and it was itching to come out. I honestly wanted to ignore everyone in the room, run up to her and just embrace her but obviously couldn’t. This was her moment; it was her special day and every eye was rightfully on her.

  Flattered beyond reason, her eyes didn’t leave mine. I could feel the love in return.

  My jaw dropped slightly, and my lips pursed as though I was trying to form some words. Obviously breath-taking beyond reason as nothing would come out. I mouthed the word beautiful to her, forcing her to smile. Our connection across the room of people and loved ones was infallible and unbroken. I smiled like a Cheshire cat, knowing that the feelings I was feeling were mutual. Our relationship was beyond words that a simple smile said it all.

  Her father released her, and she stood opposite me in all of her glory, smiling from ear to ear. We wrote our own vows, to make them even more special. Any fears I had dissipated swiftly, as I was surrounded by the best people I had in my life and looking into the eyes of the woman I loved unconditionally. My big moment came when I read my vows.

  “Arianna, I love you more than these words can ever express. You are my best friend, you are my rock, you are my everything. I’ve always been in awe of you. You are the most beautiful, intelligent, and generous person I’ve ever met. Your heart is so pure that you would give away everything you had if it would help someone else. I admire that more than you will ever know, because I know that you will share your life completely with me. The ultimate gift you could ever share, and I will be as true to that as I can be. Since the day I first set my eyes on you, you have made me smile. Your incredible kindness, unselfishness, and trust is cherished in the highest regard. I promise to remain true to you, to love you, and to protect you. There is nothing we cannot face if we stand together. I promise to be your partner in everything. Know that I also see my promises as privileges, as I get to laugh with you, cry with you, care with you, and hopefully build a family with you. I get to walk, run, and build the best life I can with you, as the luckiest man in the world. I said my words couldn’t express how much you mean to me, so let my actions show it, for the rest of our lives, for as long as we both shall live.”

  Her tearful eyes welcomed the words I had written, perfected, and learnt off by heart. The truest words I had ever spoken. Arianna was very emotional and full of joy, only breaking the moment to speak her vows back to me.

  “Sebastian, my ever-handsome man. The love of my life. I feel as though I have found my best friend, my mentor, my confidant, and my greatest challenge.” The room laughed with us. “But no challenge is too great if we remain true. You are loved so much, more than I ever thought possible to love someone. You make me a better person and I am so lucky to be a part of your life, which from today becomes our life together. I promise to walk with you hand in hand, living, learning and loving. I promise to believe in you, the person you will grow to be, and the couple we will be together. Together, forever.”

  The room erupted into cheers as I was told to kiss the bride and our coupling was complete. It was a very passionate kiss in front of friends and family, but we didn’t care, it amplified the power of our words and our promises. Promises so meaningful it had brought our respective families to tears.

  We became one that day; until death do us part.

  Chapter Nine

  I hadn’t seen Robert in about three weeks, and Alexia was nowhere to be found either. She hadn’t been seen in about four days. Father wasn’t an idiot; he knew exactly what had been going on as he kept looking at me with a wry smile whenever he was around the kids. The cut that Mallory gave me as a cover story was wearing thin and not really believed, perhaps the reason she was sporting a busted lip. The kids hadn’t really talked at all over the last few days, not even in code, or on the blackboard; purely out of fear. I was truly starting to hate my life in Fort Rose.

  We constantly lived in fear, walking on eggshells and afraid to make a small wave. I reflected on my journey out of the dormitory and tried to tap into that newfound strength. I got on with the other kids, but Robert and Alexia were the two people I was sincerely closest to. I’d sort of taken Erin under my wing since Father beat her to a pulp, though it’s not as if she was prone to conversation having had the words beaten out of her.

  Suddenly, the tapping of Father’s walking stick could be heard. The kids were so silent the echo was so great. Kids around me started to retreat to their bedside, masking any shred of fun or joy that might have been going on in the room. For children, we were demoralised, defeated, and alone; we weren’t children, we were empty husks masquerading as children.

  The door swung open and I didn’t even react in fear, I barely reacted at all, numbed by the same old
futile existence. Father walked up and down the room, stopping at Erin who was cowering on the floor. This was when I realised just how much Father desired power and control over people. He towered over her, spouting nonsense about how he could have put an end to her snivelling.

  “Where are they?” I shouted at him. “You can’t keep taking people or hurting them. You’re a monster.”

  Father turned around, infuriated by my act of defiance. He lowered himself to my height and we stared each other in the eyes. I head-butted him and he fell over, his walking stick crashing to the ground.

  “Boy, you exist because I allow it. You’ll die if I demand it,” he snapped at me as he slapped me across the face. He licked his lips, excited with the pain he was inflicting. I protested weakly.

  “Why are none of you grateful? None of you respect me.”

  He grabbed me by the neck and squeezed harder than normal, I was struggling to breathe. I felt the air leaving my body as I punched and scratched his face, trying to get him to release his grip. Other children looked on, fearful for my life but did nothing to help. I started to panic, feeling the air leave my body and life start to dissipate. I felt myself losing consciousness, thinking I was dying and the last I heard was Father telling me I was off to the cage.

  I regained consciousness being dragged by my leg down the hallway, the sound of the tapping of the walking stick banging like a jungle drum against the floor. Father was pulling hard. I recognised the hallway, where the maintenance cupboard was. Father led me further than I had gone before, to an ornate door with a plaque above it. It read: Chapel. I thought this place was devoid of any sense of joy, or God-like omnipotence.

  I was dragged through the door, hitting my head on the wooden doorframe jutting out. A few rows of benches, dusted and untouched for a while, lay there. Father threw me into the corner, groggy and dazed from the previous happenings, I just watched. He pushed a long oak table aside and revealed a hatch. He raised the hatch door and motioned for me to go down some stone stairs.

  The hatch had obviously been built over the entryway to a basement. I stood atop the stairs and arched my head down to see a light in the distance. The stairs were dimly lit from a distant light and daylight creeping through the windows.

  I started to walk down the stairs and Father followed. He closed the hatch behind him, and the dim lights were the only way forward now. He pushed me with his walking stick, if I defied him here; there was no going back, no witnesses. I genuinely felt fear.

  The dim basement corridor weaved around a few corners until I found myself in an open-planned wine cellar. It wasn’t stocked, aside from an old, rusted water tank. Was that the infamous cage? Where were my brother and sister? Father approached a giant bookcase with a solid panel back. He stood and played with it, revealing the shelves were hinged. A small opening concealed a hidden room. I was ushered through the opening in the fake wall, and that’s when the truth unfolded. Rows of cages lined against the wall. Torture tools were pinned to the wall, almost like a shrine for inflicting pain.

  My brother and sister were in cages, unresponsive. I didn’t know if they were dead, or sleeping, or unconscious, or weak from whatever they’d gone through. Robert was leaning up against his cell, his hand reaching through the cage, holding Alexia’s hand. It was hard to watch, but I loved that even what they had gone through, they were together, united.

  As I was taking in the scene, and before I could open my mouth to call their names, Father cracked me over the head with his stick, sending me down to the floor. He watched me recoil in pain, but I didn’t cry. I refused to cry because he wasn’t worth my tears. I was standing strong.

  “You think I am fucking stupid, boy? I know what you kids do, with your coded little messages. I wasn’t born yesterday. I admire that you were quite ingenious, but I despise the fact that you all breathe my air, eat my food, and take my shelter. You will learn to be obedient down here. You will learn to fall in line and respect me.”

  He threw me into an adjacent cage, with my brother and sister still lifeless. I was immediately hit by the smell from buckets littered around the cages; our obvious latrines given the lack of noticeable plumbing.

  “What have you done to them?”

  “Father. What have I done to them, Father? Nothing, boy. Until they learn respect, they won’t get what they need to survive. Same goes for you.”

  “Yes, Father,” I responded, accepting the terms of the game. He paused for a second, then laughed and threw me a bottle of water. Smirking, he left, closing the fake door behind him. A dim light stayed on in the room. There were no windows, just an air conditioning unit, and a small vent in the wall. I clutched the bottle in my hands.

  “Alexia. Robert.”

  There was the slightest stir from Alexia. She turned to face me, letting go of Robert’s hand in the process. It was enough to make his survival instinct kick in and wake up. He was exhausted. He was beaten. He’d been bruised, he’d bled, and he was battle scarred. It wasn’t right. We needed to get out.

  “Seb,” Alexia said, excited to see me. “I thought you were gone. I left to find you but couldn’t.”

  She started sobbing out of sheer elation. She was genuinely so happy to see me. She was like my little soul mate, as I was as equally happy to see her.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come back. I tried to find Mallory. I tried to get someone, anyone to save us.”

  My sister looked on quite proud of my attempted heroics. She smiled, and it was the most amazing thing I had seen in weeks. Recounting the story of how that night went made her laugh, something that made Robert stir.

  “Is Robert okay? I haven’t seen him in ages,” I pleaded. “Is anyone else down here?”

  “Not that I know of. He’s not good, Seb. He barely speaks.”

  Robert weakly turned his head, I looked him in his eyes. Void of any sense of joy, or the sprightliness I was used to seeing from him. Despite our surroundings, we were a unit together, and seeing him this way was heart-breaking. He had bags under his eyes, the kind that you would never expect to see on a child. His lips were so dried and chapped. I opened the bottle of water and took a small sip before motioning to my sister to get it to Robert.

  He could barely lift his arm, but weakly lifted the bottle to his mouth and sipped gently. Eventually, realising it was good for him; he started to gulp then coughed a little. What really surprised me was that he put the cap back on the bottle then started to drink from a puddle on the floor.

  “Robert. That is disgusting,” his sister blurted out. He stated that not a drop could be wasted where we were, before returning to the puddle and slurping it up.

  I shuddered at the thought of what awaited us. This was the legendary cage we were always threatened with, only now it was the axiomatic truth behind the words. It was an actual cage where unruly children were kept. It never was an empty threat; it was a promise.

  The concept of time was forgotten in there. Minutes felt like hours; hours felt like days. It didn’t matter how much noise we made, because we were sure no one could hear us. I tried to get an understanding of what happened down here.

  “Does Father bring down food or water?” I asked innocently.

  “Don’t fucking call him that,” Robert snapped. I’d never seen him so incensed and couldn’t recall him ever using the ‘f-word.’ I was surprised that he swore at me. Robert’s sheer annoyance at my comment upset Alexia and she retreated to the back wall of her cage. She curled up and hugged her legs, resting her head on her knees. Robert tiredly rolled his eyes.

  “Why do you call him that, Seb? He hates us,” Robert stated.

  “That’s why,” I said as I pointed at the bottle of water.

  “I might hate him too, but you know what? I’ll play along. I’ll play the game he wants us to play to make sure he doesn’t hurt us. Think, Robert! Acting out all the time gets you nowhere.”

  Robert sat in silence, frustrated with himself by being led by his emotions. He nodded in a
greement.

  The one thing I knew about Father was that he needed to be validated, he needed that respect. Robert’s acting up, or all of ours considering we all ended up here, was out of sheer frustration. Father lost control of us and put us away to think about it. To show his dominance to the remaining children, or staff given what I had read in Mallory’s diary.

  “You are clever, little brother.” Robert laughed weakly, to the point he started to cough uncontrollably following the exertion.

  “You really are clever, Seb. Amazing,” Alexia said, infatuated with my mild, childlike intellect.

  Robert looked up at her and smiled at her smiling towards me.

  “We need to get out of here. I promise, I’ll do what I can,” I said to Alexia.

  It made her so happy to know I was looking out for her and it made Robert calm somewhat, knowing he had some support. Seeing himself locked up, with his helpless sister, broken and unable to do anything probably angered him. He couldn’t be the brother to his sister as he was caged, trapped, and before we had arrived, lonely.

  “Robert?”

  A weak nod followed.

  “What have they done to you down here?”

  Silence followed, so I chose not to press the issue. Faint footsteps could be heard on the other side of the fake door. We all reacted, looking towards the door, as it swung open. I was expecting to see Father but was greeted by the Gardener.

  Like lambs to the slaughter, he paced up and down the cages, eyeing us up. He stopped at the middle cage, which my innocent sister was in. She had retreated back into a position where she was curled up, trying to protect herself.

  “Now, now. Don’t you want to see what daddy has for you, little one?” the Gardener asked, pressed up to the cage.

  “Fuck you, you bastard.” Robert spat at him. It infuriated him, knowing this predator was eyeing up his sister. What little energy he had; he was dwindling it away to bark at the monster on the other side of the cage.