Living in Darkness (Bloodbreeders)

by Robin Renee Ray,

  “Answer Me,” she demanded, sounding more animal than human, as she ripped the blade out of my hand. It was more than my mind could take, and most gratefully, I passed out.

  *****

  I came to back in my cage, unaware of how much time had passed. I sat up leaning against the slime covered wall, looking down at my tortured hand. The blood flow from my mangled hand had congealed. It had all but stopped bleeding, but my little finger was still badly misshapen. It was bent and twisted so much that it lay against the back of my hand. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt near as bad as it looked.

  Someone began walking my way very softly, but I could hear them clearly. As the person stopped in front of my cage and bent down, you could hear the sigh as I let a breath out as soon as I recognized that it was Tanda.

  “Miss, you must reset your finger or you will heal that way,” she told me. “If you can’t, I’ll help you.” She kept looking behind her as if afraid she might be caught speaking with me. “Please, Miss, if I’m to help, we must hurry. I don’t have much time before they’ll know I’ve gone.”

  “Don’t get into trouble for me. Go, before you end up in here,” I replied in a whisper.

  “But your hand, Miss...” I stopped her.

  “I can do it, now go.”

  She grabbed one of the bars. “I am sorry for you, miss.” Then stood up and left much faster than she had come. She looked so young, and couldn’t have been more than fifteen when she was turned. I knew she was sincere with the words she had just spoken; I could hear it in her voice. She wouldn’t be stuck down here taking care of those of us trapped in this abominable place, if she weren’t a slave herself. I looked back up and wondered just how long that actually might be.

  I looked back down at my hand, and shook my head. I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes. She’s right, I thought to myself. If I don’t pop it back in place, it will without a doubt heal like this. That was one thing I noticed with great curiosity. My body healed so much faster once I had become this new creature of the night. My lip, two days, the wound on my arm couldn’t have taken more than four, and the break was healed by the time we reached the beach house in Corpus.

  I took several deep breaths, grabbed hold of my finger, and quickly pulled it away from the back of my hand. I stifled my scream, but the intense pain almost caused me to pass back out. It was almost as bad as when my torturer had broken it out of shape to begin with. I gave it one final yank, and felt it pop back into place. This time the scream escaped, as my body collapsed against the wall.

  My mind was once again stirring, and like many other times I found myself wanting my mother. I wanted this all to go away, for things to be as they were before that stranger knocked on our door. I didn’t belong here. Hell, no one did. How could something so horribly wrong go on and no one do anything to stop it? I kept looking at the two misfortunate beings that were chained across from my cage, staring in complete disbelief. I had never heard of such things happening, not even in the worst cases that I heard spoke of concerning slavery in the south. I remembered my father telling us stories about the black slaves, and how his pa and grandpa helped them when they were on the run. He said they would hide them in the cellar during the day, where they would feed them and mend their wounds. Then after dark, they would take the slaves down to Pecan Creek and show them the way to travel in search of their freedom, but never once did he speak of such horrors as these.

  I was grateful that my family would never know the truth of my torment, or even worse, the truth behind my real fate. I needed to leave this place, if only in my mind, so I closed my eyes searching my memories for any route of escape. All the ones that came to my mind included little Johnny, and that only brought back the one memory that caused my heart more torment than anyone in this place could ever place upon me. I tried for a memory that had happened before he was born. Finally one came to mind of when I was eleven years old. My parents let me go spend a month with Grandma and Grandpa Wesley. My grandma had become ill and they needed help around the farm. My brothers were too young, plus they didn’t know a thing about housework and I had been helping my mother with that sort of thing for three years or longer by then. I could even bake her famous blackberry pie. One day while I was there, Grandpa said I needed a break and asked the one thing that I had been waiting on since I had arrived.

  “Wanna go fishin’ with me today, Renee?”

  “Sure, if it’s okay with Grandma,” I replied, both of us knowing that grandma wouldn’t care. I remember going in after feeding the chickens to ask, and she already had our lunch packed. “How did you know I was going to ask, Grandma? Are you going with us?”

  “No, child, I ain’t goin’, but the way you were jumping around to get things done early, I figured Pa asked you to go fishin’,” she said with a wink. Then, she leaned in close and whispered, “Plus, he told me last night after supper.”

  “Oh, Grandma, you’re the best!” I threw my arms around her and squeezed. “You sure you’ll be okay while we’re gone?”

  “I think I can manage as long as you fry up what you catch for supper,” she said, smiling.

  “Yes ma’am. I’ll even make cornbread, ‘cause Ma taught me how,” I replied with great joy.

  “Then you best be gettin`, Pa won’t wait all day for ya.”

  “Yes ma’am,” I replied and I was out the door.

  Grandpa took me to his favorite spot at Cisco Crossing. When we got there, he tied the horse and buckboard in the shade, and we took our poles, tin can of night crawlers, and headed down to his special secret spot. On our way down, grandpa said to me quietly, “I’ll tell ya a secret, but you can’t tell no one or they’ll come catch up all our fish.”

  “I promise, I won’t tell a soul. Not even Pa,” I replied seriously, watching his every move while I tried to keep up.

  “Every time you bait that hook, spit on it,” he explained with a chuckle. “These fish round here just love it.”

  “Yes sir,” I said, then after a second asked, “You sure they’ll like my spit, bein’ I’m a girl and all?”

  “I don’t think them fish care if you’re a girl as long as you got the Wesley spit in ya,” he replied letting out a big full belly laugh.

  “Well, them fish best be watching out ‘cause I got lots of spit in me, Grandpa.”

  “I bet you do at that,” he said, still laughing. “I bet you do.”

  We got settled in at our fishing spot, and being a tomboy, I didn’t bat an eye at baiting my own hook. Then, I closed my eyes in hopes for a good spit, and laid a big’un on that worm. Unfortunately, my worm never hit the water. Instead, it got caught in the mesquite next to the creek.

  “Looks like you got yourself a bit of a problem,” my grandpa said. “Here, I’ll get ya undone.”

  “Sorry, Gramps, I meant to hit that little bend right there where them big fish live,” I told him.

  “Glad to know you been listening to your old Gramps,” he looked at me proudly. “You’re right, that’d be the best spot to put your worm.”

  He stepped up to the tree and ended up having to step in the creek to get my line unhooked. As soon as he was on the edge of the water, the bank gave way and in he went. I was sure he would come up mad, but I couldn’t have been more wrong, he came up laughing.

  “Well, give me a hand, girl, don’t just stand there.” I reached my little hand down and told him. “Grab hold and I’ll pull you out.” He took my hand, but instead of me helping him out, he helped me in. We both had a good laugh, and ended up staying in the water longer than we should have. We eventually got out, and went back to fishing.

  “You know Grandma’s gonna have a fit, ‘cause if I look as much a mess as you do, she’ll know we was in the creek,” he said, knowing my grandma would more than likely get as much of a giggle out of it as he did.

  *****

  I was yanked away from my memory by the piercing screams of a young man. The memory had been a relief that I was grate
ful for, but now I couldn’t stop thinking about what they must be doing to that poor person who was making that painfully familiar sound. It wasn’t long before I heard the door open, the same door to the room I had been in a few hours ago. I could hear the young man crying, and Enrique taunting him.

  “If you think that was bad, wait until the next time she gets her hands on you. She’ll take a piece at a time off that little thing between your legs.”

  “Please, please, please, I want to go home,” the young man started pleading,

  I guess we all begged for the same thing down here, I thought as they started coming in my direction.

  “Shut up or I’ll rip it off myself,” Enrique yelled at him.

  After that, all I heard were sobs. Enrique brought the male and chained him on the wall across from my cell with the other two. When he saw the corpses hanging next to him, he went crazy, writhing and screaming. The bastard that put him there just started laughing and walked away. I tried to get the young man to calm down, but when he saw me, his screams only got louder. That was when I knew he was a normal.

  “Please, get a hold of yourself. If you don’t, they’ll come back,” I said to him. He continued screaming, as if he never heard me, so I spoke more firmly, “Do you want him to come back and do what he said would happen next?” That got his attention.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he cried. “I was supposed to work the tables, but they brought me here.”

  “They don’t care. They did the same to everyone down here,” I explained, scooting closer to the bars of my cage. Now that he was still, I could see his face more clearly. “I know you. We’re from the same area.”

  “You’re as crazy as them,” he said, slowing his fearful squall as he looked at me. “I ain’t ever laid eyes on you.”

  “You’re going to get us in trouble if you don’t stop raising your voices,” a small voice said. It was the boy in the cage next to me, and the fear in his voice was undeniable.

  “If they come in and hear you, they’ll punish us all,” another voice spoke out. “Please, just stop.” The voice was female. I couldn’t tell where she was, but she was obviously afraid as well.

  I didn’t want to get caught, but I couldn’t just let this young man scream in vehement fear. I knew him, and I was a little desperate for him to realize that he knew me. I leaned as close to the bars as possible and whispered, “You’re one of the Brown boys, ain’t you? It’s me, Renee Crocker from Burkett. Our Pa’s traded goods.”

  “You can’t be Renee, I went to her funeral.” He had stopped crying, and just stared at me in disbelief. “You’re a liar, just like them.”

  “I’m different, but it’s me.” I racked my brain to figure out how to convince him I was actually who I said I was. “Okay, remember when your little brother broke his arm at the fair last year in the calf-roping contest?”

  “Yeah, I remember,” he said, slowly starting to believe that I was telling the truth. “But, but how? I mean, I was at your funeral...”

  “I don’t know how, or why, but we’re here now, and we have to deal with it, okay? Have they told you anything?” I asked.

  “When I asked why they were doing this, the lady told me that I was a special order,” he shook his head. “What’d she mean?”

  “When did she tell you that?”

  “She would open up the long wood box they made me stay in to give me food and water. She always said, ‘we need to keep your strength up’, ‘growing boys need to feed’, strange things like that,” he explained through sobs while straining desperately on the restraints that held him firmly by the wrists. “I’ve got to go home now.”

  Now I knew what were in the crates on the boat. “Are you hurt?” As soon as the words left my mouth his head shot around the side of his chained arms looking back at me with a sight of pure distain in his eyes and seeing the look on his face, I quickly rephrased my question. “I mean, physically? Do you have any broken bones?”

  “No. They told me to take off all my clothes in front of a bunch of people. I said I wouldn’t do it, but then the big man started ripping them off...” he began to cry again, softly. “I started hitting him, trying to make him stop, but he’s so big, he just laughed. That’s when the two women came up and started hitting me. They told me they would make sure I did what as I was told next time.” He paused and looked at me pitifully. “I’m scared, Renee… really scared.”

  “I know, babe, me too.”

  “You don’t understand, that woman told me she was going to cut off my... my...” he stopped, curled in on himself as best as he could, and began sobbing even harder.

  “Robert, Robert that is your name, right? Do what they say, no matter how hard, or embarrassing it is. They’ll kill you if you don’t,” I said, doing my best to try and make him understand something that I couldn’t even explain to myself. “Do you hear me?”

  “I just wanna go home. I want my Ma,” he cried. “She lied to me. She said I was gonna to be working on her farm. She said she just bought it and needed help.” I knew who she was, and it only made me hate her even more. Rebecca.

  I tried to comfort him the best I could through my own encasement, but I knew we were both in this hell together. I couldn’t even help myself, much less this poor innocent young boy, who was the only normal down in this nefarious dungeon. Robert suddenly got very quiet, and I was praying that he had passed out.

  This was more than just insane. How could this be allowed to happen? I knew I would be asking myself that very same question until someone answered it. I swore to myself right then that if I ever got out of this, I would do everything in my power to bring these people down.

  Chapter 13

  The next night, after being hosed down with the painfully stinging salt water, Enrique came down, and headed straight for Robert. The boy started screaming hysterically as soon as he noticed him approaching. When Enrique started unchaining him, he threw in a few kicks to the boy’s stomach, because he was thrashing about too much for Enrique’s liking. I couldn’t stop myself, I had to intervene.

  “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, you piece of shit?” I yelled.

  Enrique looked over at me, while binding Robert’s hands with rope, and laughed loudly. “If you weren’t already paid for, I’d gladly take you in his place, but the one that you hit paid a handsome price for one night with you. Sounds like you’ll be having all kinds of fun.” He laughed again, and turned his attention back to Robert who was struggling ineffectively.

  “Renee, don’t let him take me,” he screamed, as Enrique stood to drag him out.

  “I’m sorry, Robert. Be strong, do what they say,” I replied reaching my arm through the bars as far as I could.

  Enrique slapped my hand away, but it only made me reach harder. Robert continued to cry out for help, and I frantically tried to reach him, if nothing more than to offer a touch that was not one of torment, but perhaps to offer a little hope. As they passed my cage, Robert swung himself bodily towards me, momentarily catching Enrique off-guard, causing him to drop the boy. He reached his bound hands out and our fingers brushed for a brief second before Enrique yanked his foot, lifting him into the air, then dropping him onto his back. Robert hit the ground hard, and without missing a beat, Enrique took hold of his bound hands and dragged him towards the door leading upstairs.

  “Help me! Help me, please,” Robert screamed, his wide eyes staring straight at me.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” was all I could say. Then they were gone, taking away the only familiar face I had seen in what seemed like an eternity. I fell back and cried, not only because I knew the suffering he was going to endure, but because I was unable to stop it. I will never forget the terror I saw on that boy’s face that night, or the sheer terror that I heard in his voice. I believe that was the last night anyone ever saw Robert.

  *****

  Many nights passed, though I lost count after ten or twelve, because the weakness of not feeding was
setting in. I hadn’t fed since my first night in Cuba. The longer I was here, the angrier I became. I replayed the whole scenario over and over again in my mind, the faked friendship, the lies, the betrayal, and the horrific screams of a frightened child. The angrier I became, the more I wanted to hurt—no, kill—each and every one of them. It was definitely a fantasy I was hoping I could one day fulfill. The only thing that I was anywhere near grateful for, was the fact that they never came for me like Enrique had said.

  As always, I awoke to the hose. I didn’t know why they bothered. My skin was constantly wet, because the ocean water never completely drained. Plus, this place was so full of filth it remained polluted no matter how much they sprayed. The stench alone was to the point of being unbearable. When I had arrived, I was unsure whether the man across from my cell was alive or dead, but now there was no uncertainty. His body was decaying right along with the corpse that hung at his side.

  Clashing with the horrible odor, I suddenly smelled something wonderful. Blood… fresh blood. I licked my lips just thinking about it. Tanda came walking up to my cage and leaned down in front of it, with a small metal cup in her hand.

  “Here, Miss,” she said, holding the cup out for me to take. “The Mistress says you must feed.” She then leaned closer, and whispered, “They are coming to take you tomorrow. You’ll need your strength.”

  “You can tell your mistress to shove it up her backside.” I replied as I pushed the cup away.

  “But... but Miss, if you don’t do as they say, they will force you...” she said a bit taken by surprise, before I interrupted.

  “Do you really think I care what they do anymore? Go tell your mistress I would rather die.” I sat back against the wall and turned my head away from Tanda, hoping that she didn’t notice the ravenousness look of hunger on my face.

  “You are a brave woman,” she replied. “But bravery in this place will bring on rewards of dire consequences.”