She tries kneeling and getting up, but she can’t: both her ankles are chained. She looks over at the boy and realizes that his are too.
Another confused gaze. “I was at home, in my bed, I remember going to sleep…What am I doing here?”
He’s still silent, to the point the girl gets angry, puts her hand on his knee and shakes it. “Wake up, idiot! What are we doing here?”
She gets no reaction, so she stands up and looks around. She’s suddenly aware of everything that surrounds them: it’s a very large and dark cellar. The chains are fixed to the wall and allow minimal movement, just two steps. There is only one source of light, an unenclosed bulb, hanging on a wire just above the door, at least five feet from them. There is nothing else in that cellar, apart from the bumpy floor on which they stand and so much dust.
She returns her attention to the boy. “Did they kidnap us?” And then: “What’s your name?” And finally: “How old are you?”
He doesn’t speak.
She tries to pull the chains, looks for a window or a connection to the outside, but it’s useless, so she gets ready to call for help, opens her mouth to do it. But then her gaze goes back to the boy.
She stops. “This is not a good idea, is it?” she asks him.
The boy give his first sign of life and shakes his head. So, the girl sits down again, she settles right next to him, in the same position. She’s wearing some unisex pajamas and is without shoes, red socks on her feet. “I’m Daria and I’m thirteen”, she introduces herself, in a very formal way, giving him her hand, but he doesn’t react.
She snorts. “Great, you sure are talkative!” She pretends not to look at him. “Did they hurt you?”
Still no reaction.
“But this is unacceptable! Just tell me something! Do you want me to go crazy, do you want me to scream? Tell me what’s going on!”
The child points at the door with a nod.
“Do they come from there? The people who brought us here, who kidnapped us?”
This is not the right question, and she realizes it. “What then? What are you afraid of?”
She hears the boy’s voice for the first time, hoarse and so low she almost can’t hear it. “Cats.”
She frowns. “Cats? Are you afraid of cats?”
She stays silent, listening. “Yes, there are cats, I heard them too. So, what? What does it have to do with this?”
He turns to look at her and the girl holds his gaze. “Is it a maniac? Some kind of maniac? Does he want to hurt us?” She doesn’t wait for an answer because it’s useless. “Speak, please, tell me something, don’t make me go crazy!”
The answer comes in a breath. “Yes.”
“Ah, that’s awesome.” She looks him up and down. “I can see you’re in a bad shape. Did he…did he…did he touch you?”
The boy looks uncertain, then he shakes his head.
“How can you say he’s a maniac then? Maybe he’s interested in something else, maybe he’s doing this for money.”
He seems to be struggling not to talk, but loses the battle. “Others.”
“Others? You mean there are others, besides the two of us? Where are they?”
He nods towards the door.
“He took them away, is that what you mean?”
He nods.
“Speak! You still have your tongue, right? Let me hear how you talk!”
His voice is uncertain, as if he hasn’t spoken for so long that he has forgotten how to do it. “He took them away.”
“Ah! And not you?”
He shakes his head, going back to his muteness.
“And who were they? Boys, girls, like you, like me…”
“You’re old. The oldest I saw.”
“Ah, kids!”, she deduces, with a tip of superiority in her voice. “And you said he took them away?”
He nods.
“And not you. Have you been here for long?”
He nods again.
“How long?”
“A lot.”
“But you don’t know how long exactly. Well, there certainly isn’t a calendar to mark it.” She looks around anyway. “And where there many? Many others?”
He nods.
“How many? And don’t say a lot. You know it.”
“Six.”
“Six others? All together or one at a time?”
“One at a time.”
“And he took them all?”
“Yes, all of them.”
“And not you.”
He shakes his head.
“Why?”
She sees him stiffen and insists: “Why not you? Why take all the others and not you? Did you wonder? What does he want from you?”
He shrugs.
“Are you…a reserve? Does he keep you as a reserve?”
He sits firm and tries not to look at her. The girl understands that he’d like to talk, open, but is forcing himself not to.
“Soon it’ll be my turn, is that what you mean? Is this why you don’t want to talk?”
Finally, he nods.
“Ah, well!”, replies the girl. “Better and better. And who is he? Do you know? You must have seen him, if he came to take the others.”
“He wears a mask.”
“What mask?”
“Black, leather.”
“Just like a horror movie, then. And he’s a man? Are you sure he’s a man?”
He nods. “He’s… big. Very big.”
“I know the type, wearing all black, maybe even with an ax in his hand.”
The boy looks at her, upset. “Yes, black.”
“Well, sorry if I don’t fill my pants, but that’s not what I do. I’m not the type to give up easily.”
A soft voice. “Me neither.”
She smiles. “Yeah, if you’re still here there must be a reason. What’s the trick?”
“What?”
“How are you still alive? And how do you know he kills them, did you watch?”
He shakes his head. “He does.”
“Did you hear them scream? Ask for help?”
He stares at her and keeps silent.
The girl goes back to looking in front of her. The boy keeps an eye on the door and she does too.
“So, how do you do it?”
“What?”
“How do you survive. You know it, otherwise you wouldn’t have lasted so long.”
“You can’t.”
“I can’t survive? How do you know?”
A long silence. “If you do, he takes me.”
The girl smiles. “Great answer. Is that how it happens every time? He chooses?”
“Yes.”
“You always win. He leaves you here and takes the others.”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure you’re the luckiest?”
He frowns and looks worried.
She pretends not to notice. “How do you do it?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“Of course not, you can’t, or I could beat you, and then you would be in trouble. What do we have to do, some sort of race? Against each other?”
“I’m better!”
“You’ve been so far, yes, but you never had an opponent like me. I’m very capable, you know, I never lose.”
“You can’t do it.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t know what you have to do.”
“Oh, there are rules! I should have imagined. And if I don’t know the rules, I can’t win, I guess. I could always ask him.”
“He won’t talk to you.”
“And how did you find out? Were you lucky? The first time you were lucky, I’m sure, then it was easier for you, you knew what to do.”
“I know how to win!”
“And you won’t tell me.”
“I’m not stupid.”
“Would you let him take me away? Kill me?”
“I don’t want to die.”
He said it without emphasis, without emotion, almost
resigned. As if living was more a requirement than a prize.
“If I beat you, will he take you away? What will he do to you, will he kill you?”
“You can’t beat me.”
“Don’t bet on it, you could lose. What does he do to you once he takes you away?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you must have heard something! You must have an idea! What’s behind that door?”
His voice trembles. “Cats.”
The girl snorts. “Well, I’m not afraid of cats.”
He doesn’t comment.
“How does it work?”, the girl asks again. He doesn’t answer and she insists. “He comes here, I guess, he opens that door, and then?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“This isn’t fair, you should at least give me a chance.”
He shakes his head.
“Did you do this to everybody? Did you let him take them away, without ever trying to help them?”
“I couldn’t.”
It’s almost difficult looking at him, in that condition, looking like a skeleton with the skin still on. “Doesn’t he give you any food?” she asks.
She sees him pale and look away.
She relaxes her legs and sighs. “Do we have to wait a lot?”
The boy turns, upset. “You think I’m lying?”
The girl shakes her head.
“How are you not scared?”
“They’ll find me, sooner or later. I just have to resist until then. You’re thinking the same thing, I guess.”
“He’ll take you away, he’ll kill you. Soon, very soon.”
“Or he’ll take you away. One of us. You could say we have an equal possibility.”
“You don’t know what you have to do to survive!”
“Oh, I’ll find out. You didn’t know either the first time, but you still did it. Don’t go thinking you’re better than me, flea!”
“You’re crazy! Totally crazy!”
The girl’s eyes are serious, focused. “I’m ready to face him. I’m sure I can win!”, she says aloud, then smiles at the boy. “No grudges, it’s not personal, only I don’t feel like dying either.”
The boy trembles. “You can’t do it.”
She keeps smiling and lays down. “Soon we’ll find out. Let’s hope we don’t have to wait long.”
And so, it is: they hear the door open after just a few minutes. The boy stiffens suddenly, while the girl sits.
A man enters, all dressed in black and with a black leather mask on his face, closed on one side with a zip.
The girl doesn’t look at him, not even for a second. All her attention is directed to the boy: she studies his every reaction, every little movement, his expression, his eyes. In him is hidden the solution, the way to beat him, to win.
The boy looks at the man who came in, then his gaze lowers, and he’s looking at the door, as if expecting someone else to come in. But the doorframe is empty. She knows there’s darkness, beyond it, darkness and silence. There is nothing, nothing exists: only the three of them in that cellar and the game that’s about to start.
But is it really so? The girl wonders. What’s he waiting for, what’s he afraid of? The answer leaps into her mind with ease: the cats, the boy is afraid of the cats.
She goes back to looking at him. The man is approaching, he stops. The boy’s muscles tense, then relax, then tense again. He’s waiting for something, but it’s not the time yet.
The girl lays down languidly and smiles at the masked figure. “Hello.”
She immediately understands that she made a mistake, because she sees the boy loosen up a little. No, that’s not the way to win.
Why is nothing happening? What are they waiting for? Yet she can see the boy is ready to act, to play his game, to move.
She suddenly understands and frowns: the man is still too far away, they’re chained, they can’t get close enough. Whatever he needs to do, that man must be closer.
The girl stares at him, dedicating her attention to the man, now. His terrifying leather mask, his muscular arms crossed behind his back and out of sight. A black threadbare sweater, a pair of wide pants, also black.
And hair.
A lot of hair, on the sweater, on the pants, white hair, red hair, tabby hair. Cats. So many cats. The house is full of cats. But what’s the meaning of it? The cats follow him, do they come here with him? What do the cats do?
The man makes one step and the girl sees the boy’s muscles tense to the spasm. He’s so skinny it seems impossible he can still move, and yet he’s about to leap. He must be about to do something he hates, that disgusts him, but he can’t not do it.
The girl is betting everything on this, it’s her only chance, if she makes a mistake every hope will be lost. With a catlike reaction, she moves before the boy, slips sinuously towards the man, rubs against his pants, his head and shoulders, then again, smoothing him, and finally she lifts her languid gaze and says: “Miaow!”
The boy is as pale as a dead body, paralyzed. She keeps turning around the man and purring against his pants, even trying to snore.
The boy shakes himself, but it’s too late, he lost precious seconds. He goes to them and starts doing the same thing, on the man’s other leg.
His eyes are desperate, he already feels defeated.
“My kittens!”
The man’s voice is metallic, syncopated, under that adhering mask. “Good kittens.”
They keep spinning around purring, the girl and the boy, and there’s no doubt that she’s better at it.
Then the man turns and goes away.
The girl is dumbfounded, surprised. She addresses the boy. “What…?”
He’s not surprised at all and ignores her. Looks at her with hate.
The man returns almost immediately, announcing. “I have so many goodies for you!”
He holds two large bowls in his hands. He goes to them and lays them down in front of them.
The girl doesn’t look at them, her eyes are fixed on the boy. She reads horror in his eyes, disgust, repulsion. She doesn’t need to lower her eyes to figure out what’s inside those bowls. Something awful, maybe offal, maybe even the guts of those who preceded them there.
She doesn’t lose a single instant, bows her head and sinks it into the bowl, avidly eating its content, chewing loudly and even trying to purr in the meantime.
The boy has death painted all over his face. She’s beating him, even if he thought it impossible. He knows his turn has come and there’s nothing to do. Terror is annihilating him.
He leans over the bowl and closes his eyes. He tries to eat too, but after two bites he can’t do it anymore, he starts coughing and vomiting.
The man’s mechanical voice makes him jump. “Bad cat! Is this how you thank me?”
The boy starts shaking, unable to stop.
The girl cleaned the bowl, and now is leaking it, then goes back near the man and starts rubbing against his pants again. She purrs relentlessly. The man leans down and pets her head. “Good kitty, you know how to satisfy me.”
He then takes a step towards the boy. “This bad cat we take away instead.”
The boy goes crazy, starts screaming, moves back against the wall and tries to kick. But he has no strength left and the man frees him of his chains easily, then lifts him up and locks him in his arms.
The boy keeps screaming, desperate, tries to punch him, but the man ignores him, turns around and goes to the door.
The boy weeps and sobs, looks at the girl still sitting on the floor. She smiles at him and greets him with a hand. She says: “Miaow!”
He goes totally crazy, kicks and shouts like a damned, but it’s too late, they’re already crossing the door. He tries to cling to the jamb but he slides away.
The man advances a few steps, then turns and puts him to the ground. He stays behind the boy, holding him tight.
The boy’s eyes are full of tears and he’s shaken by sobs. He has no idea what place
is this, he’s never seen what’s outside the cellar, what’s waiting for him, where the ones who preceded him went.
He’s dazzled: there’s white, so much white. So, white his vision is confused. There are people, many, who look at him, men and women. They’re just halos, at first, then they gain consistency, he sees them through his tears. There’s a man in front of him, a woman at his side, clinging to his arm. He looks at the man and feels dismayed. He’s seen him before, he knows him. Something emerges from the depth of his memory. He stutters: “D-dad.”
The woman clings even harder to the man’s arm, and her voice is shaky. “He recognized you! He said dad! I heard him!” Then she talks to the boy. “Do you remember me? Do you know who I am?”
The boy is dazed. He repeats it without meaning to. “Dad… mum…”
The woman bursts into tears, sobs that she’s unable to stop. “She did it! She actually did it!”
The man beside her doesn’t console her, as if he’s forgotten her presence. She bends in front of the boy and takes his hands. “You may leave him”, she says. “I got it now.”
The boy lifts his gaze and sees the man with the leather mask still behind him. He trembles. The man lets him go and steps back.
His father squeezes his hands and tries to attract his attention. “He’s not there anymore, they arrested him. They freed you, almost a month ago. He can’t hurt you anymore!”
But the boy keeps following the man with his eyes. Now he’s removing his mask, helped by a woman dressed in white. A cable hangs from his ear, a headset.
“You’re in the hospital, now, and that’s just a nurse, he’s not him.”
“He’s not him…” the boy repeats.
“Do you remember? Do you remember what happened?”
“What… happened…”
“They freed you! The police broke into the house and freed you. But you…”
The father can’t keep going and breaks into sobs, hugging him. “You wouldn’t believe it, you were still in that cellar. Everywhere we tool you, you couldn’t get rid of it. You refused to eat, you were dying. We didn’t know what to do. Your mind refused to accept reality.”
The boy looks around, his mouth open. Now his eyes are dryer. The people around him almost all wear a white overall. Even the man in the black mask has stripped completely and is now wearing an overall. There’s a large counter and a blackboard, many photos hung on it, he recognizes some of then and shivers: they’re photos of the cellar. And then monitors and all kind of equipment. On the monitor, he can see a hospital room, and a girl sitting on the ground, framed from different angles.
The Prison Page 42
