Desecrating Solomon II

by Lucian Bane

  Hunger and hate knit together to cover Solomon’s bones and coat his tongue till it burned. The sick image of her sewn vagina danced in his mind for several seconds, and he let his hate feast on it. What he wouldn’t give to see that sick fuck get his, even let Chaos watch.

  Solomon realized in horror what he was thinking. She didn’t need to see anymore shit like that. He needed to protect her from that, not pile more of it on.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was plenty dark by the time they made it to the edge of the sick man’s yard, thankfully. “That’s it,” Chaos gasped.

  Solomon stared at the residence straight out of a horror movie. “Which is the house?” Several white structures littered the yard like dilapidated tombstones.

  “That’s the house,” she pointed to the smaller of the two largest structures.

  “What’s that then?” his uncle pointed to the other.

  “His sewing room.”

  Holy Jesus this was stupid nuts.

  He’d kept a tight hold of Chaos’s hand ever since they set out to this hell house on butcher alley or whatever she’d called it. With the freak show animals and the psycho doctor, he could believe they were in a horror movie. “How many times have you been here?” Solomon hated to ask.

  “Many times. I always went with Master. We… we came here to bring those needing treatment.” He heard the guilt in her voice and he bit his tongue on you didn’t know because she’d argue and say, oh but I did.

  “What’s the plan, so we can get the hell out of here?”

  “Well,” his uncle began from his crouched spot while peering all around. “I need to see the layout to know. What’s that building right there?” He pointed through the trees.

  “He does his doctorings in there for the ones that need treatments.”

  Treatments. Must be the ones he helped die or wish they had.

  “And that, what’s that?” his uncle asked. “The building with the one small door.”

  “I don’t know, I’ve never been in it.”

  “There’s the garage,” Solomon pointed to the small, white structure with the single vehicle in it.

  “Wonder if he keeps the keys in it?” his uncle muttered.

  “He has a big key ring with a bunch of keys. He usually wears it on his belt loop. There’s stuff under his house too. Where he stores supplies.” She shook her head a lot.

  “What?” Solomon said.

  “I don’t like going down there.”

  Jesus. Spare body parts and God only knew what else that he didn’t even want to imagine. To think Chaos had been in this horror all her life. He suddenly felt like coming here was a bad idea. They were outnumbered. The three of them against a hoard of demons.

  “How about we just borrow the car and go?” Solomon whispered to his uncle.

  “You can call it steal,” Chaos said, “I’m not stupid. And I surely don’t care if you do.”

  “What about the animals?” Solomon said. “They start barking and then what?”

  “What if I make my way to the other side of the yard and create a diversion?”

  “I don’t know how to hot wire a vehicle!” Solomon hissed quietly.

  “Well, go in and at least see if the keys are in it. Look around for a spare.”

  “And if there’s neither?”

  “Then come back here and hide, and I’ll return after a while and you go distract the dogs while I hot wire.”

  “While I’m a mile away?” Solomon whispered.

  “I’ll pick you up down the road. When you see me leaving, start running parallel with the road as fast and as far as you can.”

  “And me!” Chaos cried, sounding scared.

  “Yes, you’ll come with me.” He grabbed her hand, realizing she was worried he’d leave her. God, he wasn’t about to let her out of his sight in this creepy place.

  Solomon took a deep breath, eyeing the four lit windows on the creepy house. “How about we wait till he’s asleep?”

  Solomon made out Chaos’s nods in the low moonlight.

  “That’s a good idea,” she said. “We don’t want to get caught.”

  The warning in her shaky words was all the convincing he needed. “She’s right. We should wait.”

  “Okay,” his uncle said, sounding happy to agree. “We wait till way after lights are out, and I’ll go create a diversion for the animals. When they start up, wait to see what comes out of the house and go when you are damn positive the coast is clear. Wait… does he live alone?”

  “Yes,” Chaos whispered. “At least… I think so.”

  Great. Just great.

  They crept in reverse and found a spot where they could still see without being seen. Then they waited. They waited for their turn to play chicken on the freeway with death-crazed psychopaths.

  Uncle Joe went over the plan three times, and Solomon didn’t stop him. If he wanted to rehearse it fifty times that was fine by him.

  But the moment of horror never came.

  When the man should have gone to bed, he went out of his house instead. They watched, holding their breath as he limped down the steps. If he left, they could use the phone at least. But he didn’t leave, he went into the sewing room.

  They crept closer to the yard to figure out what was going on. And that’s when the sounds began. Muffled cries and screams that had Solomon rigid in terror at what the fuck might be happening.

  “He’s treating them,” Chaos whispered, panicked.

  Solomon put his hand over her mouth when it seemed she’d scream. “Shhhhh, shhhhhh!”

  She nodded while clutching his hand but she didn’t try to remove it.

  “Jesus,” Joe whispered. “What do we do?”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Of putting a bullet in his head?”

  Solomon thought that was a great idea, if it didn’t involve getting closer than they already were. But it was better to have him dead than alive either way he looked at it. They couldn’t leave him torturing people while they ran off either. Thoughts of Chantilly having to endure something like that slammed him with panic. What if they took her and she was tortured? Like he had been, like those people were being?

  “New plan,” his uncle said. “Devil dog is chained at the front porch. So, I’ll get the dogs barking and that will bring him outside. I’ll stand by the door and wait for him to come out and feed him a couple of bullets. Wait till you hear the shots before coming out of hiding. We’ll get the keys, and get the people being held there, and haul ass.”

  Sounded so simple. And while Solomon couldn’t think of how it could go wrong, he was sure it could and would. “Okay, let’s do it.”

  “You have the gun, use the bullets only if you need to, it’s all we got left.”

  “Right,” Solomon said, his stomach in sick knots.

  He held Chaos’s hand tightly, ready to run with her if he needed, while Uncle Joe ran across. He was at the sewing room now, just a black shadow at the front corner.

  He couldn’t see what he did, but the dogs started barking.

  “Shit, shit,” Solomon whispered when a light came on outside the sewing house. Problem was, it was right where Uncle Joe stood and it lit him up. Thankfully no windows were around to be seen.

  They watched and waited for the front door to open for way too long.

  Chaos gushed in panic, “There’s another side door!”

  The second she said it, a man appeared at the back corner with a shotgun aimed at his uncle’s back.

  Solomon dropped to a knee, aimed his gun, and shot. God, he missed! The man’s shotgun jerked toward them and fired.

  Solomon yanked Chaos to the ground. Another shot fired. He crouch-ran with Chaos toward the back side of the yard.

  Two more gunshots went off and Chaos whimpered as they both crept between the trees, trying to see anything. They ran into the barbed wire fence at the back property line. “Look,” Solomon gasped. The side of the sewing room with the other d
oor was in view now. And open. Panting, he searched around for his uncle, instinct demanding he call his name. He also wanted to hide Chaos somewhere and go find him, help him, but no way would he risk her getting stolen or kidnapped.

  The dogs barked non-stop and Solomon helped Chaos through the barbed wire fence. If his uncle was in trouble, he needed to hurry.

  “Solomon!”

  He jerked up to the sound of his uncle’s voice. Relief hit him at seeing him running toward them. He pulled Chaos and they met in a half run. “I got him!” his uncle gasped. “Shot him in the head, right between the eyes,” he said winded. “He got what was coming, he got it.” He turned and headed back. “We need to hurry, I got a bad feeling. He took long enough to call somebody. We gotta get these people and get the hell out of here.”

  “Thank God you’re okay,” Solomon said, following with Chaos.

  “Where is he?” Chaos whispered as they ran to the side entrance of the sewing room.

  “He’s in a pool of blood at the front door,” his uncle muttered.

  “I-I-I need to see. Make sure.”

  “You go,” his uncle said. “I’ll see what the hell we’re facing in there.”

  Solomon crept with her to the front of the building. Even with the gun, he felt as safe as Hannibal Lecter’s next meal. He stopped at the corner and slowly peeked his head around. At seeing the body on the ground, he searched the entire area again before stepping out, gun ready.

  Chaos gripped the back of his shirt, staying behind him and to the left. “He’s dead?” she whispered.

  Solomon took single steps, each with his right foot as he edged closer. He finally reached the fat man in his doctor coat. His face was toward them, eyes open.

  “His eyes, his eyes!” she gasped.

  “He’s dead. Look at the hole on his forehead.”

  “I see it,” she whispered. “It’s small.”

  Solomon went around the body in a wide arc till they had a view of the back. “That hole isn’t.” He pointed to the baseball-sized crater where the bullet exited the back of his head.

  Her sharp breaths trembled out as she stared.

  “Let’s go help Uncle Joe,” Solomon said, pulling her.

  She resisted. “I can’t!”

  Solomon shook his head at her. “Chaos, you can’t stay out here.”

  “I-I-I can’t go in there. I can’t, I can’t.”

  The panic in those words made him sick to go as well. “I need you to help me Chaos, please. We’ll get these people and help them. This is your chance to help them, do what’s right. You understand me? This is what we’re here for, this is who we are. We help people. Save them.”

  She began to nod and never stopped. Both her hands were under her chin in a death clutch and he beckoned her to hold his. She eyed the door leading into the sewing room then slowly reached a hand out to Solomon.

  He took it and held it tight, hurrying to the door. He hated to bring her in there but standing outside in plain view of the demons that were surely on their way needed to end that very second.

  They went from one horror to another, a sick pretense of normalcy in the form of a small waiting room. Two chairs with end tables, and pictures on the wall mocked what lay beyond. Solomon jumped at the sudden appearance of his uncle, haggard and breathless in the doorway leading in to the next room.

  He shook his head, looking ill. “She doesn’t need to go in there.”

  “She doesn’t want to,” Solomon said, dread pumping through his blood.

  “There’s three.” He eyed Solomon. “I don’t know what we’re going to do with them.”

  What did that mean?

  At seeing his confusion, his uncle shook his head. “You just need to see, I’m sorry.”

  Solomon looked at Chaos who stared at the floor, shaking her head now. “Stay with her,” he told his uncle, putting his gun in his back pocket.

  Chaos latched onto his uncle’s hand like a lifeline while Solomon made his way to the adjoining horror chamber.

  The smell in the foyer already had him ready to vomit. Urine and shit and… blood, mixed with other sharp smelling chemicals. When he rounded the corner, he hit the wall of terror at the first woman. She was taped to a gynecological chair, things inside her vagina and she was fucking pregnant!

  “Fuck!” He spun and ran out, gasping for air. “Fuck, what the fuck!” he yelled, leaning over, reaching for something to hold on to. “What is that, what am I seeing?! Oh God!” Solomon put his hand over his mouth and paced in circles then pointed to the room. “What is that Uncle Joe, what’s going on?” His head shook rapidly with wide eyes. “I don’t get what I’m seeing!”

  “I don’t know, son! All I see is he’s shocking them and taking their blood, I can’t tell what else he’s doing!” he yelled back just as outraged.

  “They’re… pregnant!” Solomon gasped the whisper, fighting not to cry. “Are they dead? Are the babies dead Uncle Joe?”

  “I don’t know son, they need a hospital.”

  “We should call 911,”Solomon said in panic.

  “No!” Chaos snapped. “Not the police!”

  Solomon paced and forced all his shit down into a mental box and looked at his uncle. “Then we better hurry.” He nodded a lot. “We have to try to save them.”

  “There’s… more,” Chaos whispered in a wretched, bitter voice.

  They looked at her and she stared at the floor, entire body shaking. “Under the house. He-he keeps them there to prepare them.”

  “Oh Jesus,” Solomon said. “How many?”

  She shook her head rapidly. “I tried never to see them. I made myself not see them!” she nearly screamed, fury in her face.

  “Okay, okay!” Solomon hurried to her. “We’re getting them all out of here. That’s what you wanted you wanted to save them. Now we are, okay? Chaos!” he yelled, shaking her when she looked like she might lose it. “I need your help!”

  Her hands shook in the air, her eyes wider than ever as they made their way to his. “I’ll help!” she gasped. “I’ll help! I’ll help them! Please help me!” she strained, tears falling.

  “We’ll help you!” Solomon eyed his uncle who only stared in helpless distress. “I need you to sit right here and watch the door, can you do that? Just watch the door and if you see anybody coming, you yell, do you understand?”

  She let him sit her down and she nodded. “I’ll watch I’ll watch the door! Hurry!” she whispered.

  “What about the car?” his uncle said. “I need the keys, he didn’t have them on him.” His uncle looked at Chaos and carefully asked, “Do you remember where else he keeps the keys?”

  “H-h-h-h-hanging. Kitchen.”

  “Just go look for it.” Solomon said. “I’ll see what I can do in here. Please hurry.”

  He went out the door and Solomon gave one last look at Chaos who sat and watched like she was asked.

  At going back in, he tried not to look at anything he didn’t need to. But there was nowhere he looked that didn’t fill him with horror. The first thing he did was cover their lower bodies. He couldn’t stand seeing their feet duct-taped to the stirrups and the wires leading into their vaginas. God why? Something for the baby? He eyed the monitor it led to and discerned nothing he could make sense of.

  He moved to the first girl’s head, afraid to see how old she was. Don’t look at her face. But how? He had to see if they were conscious or in pain. Solomon forced his eyes to her face, and once he did, there was no turning away. His brain did its job and gave him all the data he never wanted. She had green eyes. Early twenties. Agony. So much agony in her near lifeless gaze.

  “Can you hear me?” he whispered, trying to sound calm. “Can you blink?”

  Her eyes slowly shut and he jumped, not really expecting it. “Oh God, I’m going to help you,” he said, wanting her to know he wasn’t a monster. “I’m here to help you, okay? The man who was hurting you is dead.” He realized her eyes had never opened again and
he panicked. “Can you hear me still?”

  Her eyes barely opened and relief hit him as he touched her cheek, “I’m sorry, okay, I’ll get you out. I’ll get you out of here. I just…” he looked at the things attached to her body. “Need to figure out what,” he whispered. “What the fuck is all this?”

  He suddenly needed to vomit and forced it back. Focus goddammit. Get these women out and get the fuck out of here. “I’m going to start… here. Unhooking you.” He untaped the prongs at her temples. Then he made himself look at the prongs on her breasts. “I’m just unhooking you,” he said, fighting a sob.

  She whimpered as he tried to get it off and he shot a look to her face. “I’m sorry,” he cried, trying to understand why it wasn’t releasing. “Jesus, how is this on?” he strained, angling his head to see. He finally saw the skin was melted to the metal. “Oh, my God,” he whispered. “I’ll… I’ll get you out. I have to hurry, I’m sorry if it hurts.” He looked at the lines leading to her arms. Blood. Was he giving it or draining her? He found the pan of blood on the floor where the end of the tube led. Draining her, Jesus Christ. He carefully untapped her arm and removed the needle pressing his finger for a few seconds. He let go, not surprised it didn’t bleed.

  “I’m… going to undo your feet next,” he whispered more to himself as he fought with the gray tape wrapped around her ankles and part of her feet. He searched and found surgical scissors and ran back to cut the tape off. The bottom half of her feet were ice cold and purple from no circulation.

  Please Uncle Joe, hurry up. Come fucking help me. Once he had her feet undone, he fought the bile in his throat. “Okay, uh…” He eyed the wires leading inside her body and realized. “I’m just going to cut the wires, okay? A doctor will fix it, don’t worry,” he whispered, carefully taking hold of the black lines and cutting them.

  “Ready!” his uncle announced, racing in.

  “Thank you God, Uncle Joe, help me finish. I-I can’t undo the things on her top, her chest. They’re stuck, they’re melted to the fucking skin,” he whispered.