Decayed

by Jessica Sutherland

  "Sit them down. Must you be so cruel?"

  I saw a beautiful man sitting in an armchair. His legs were crossed, and he wore rich, dark clothing. The golden cross of his breast pocket glittered in the candles he had lit. I swallowed in fear.

  "Now, now," he shushed me. "Why is her mouth sewn?"

  "She would not be quiet, Judge."

  I blinked up at the man again and felt my insides crawl. His face was young, sharp, and dark. Beautiful hair in an old-fashioned style curled over his forhead. He looked like a British school boy that my cousin would have the hots for. His lips were thin, and his nose was long and sharp. His eyes, however, scared the shit out of me. They were yellow and brown, like a demon's. He smiled, revealing perfect, white teeth and a tongue peeked out from behind them.

  "My, my," he spoke with a proper American accent, "you are quite pretty when you're not bloodied up, aren't you?"

  I glared at him. He laughed, and motioned the two men to leave. I startled at the sounds of Cole coming to, his voice grunting through horrid pain. Thick blood still in his throat.

  "Ah, it's good to see that he's still around." Adelbrecht grinned, taking a wine glass from a tray nearby. "I shall like to taste it," he grasped Cole's face and shoved the glass against where his nose once was.

  "NO!" My mind screamed, and I illicited sounds of fury through my thin bondage.

  Cole's body began to spasm at the pain, and he made several horrific sounds. My insides curled as Adelbrecht brought the glass to his thin lips and tasted.

  "Mmmmm," he moaned. "Very nice, if not a little too full of steroids."

  I growled through my lips, my blue eyes in tight slits.

  "Perhaps," the Judge turned to look at me, "You would like a taste as well?"

  I felt myself gape at the monster. I shook my head, turning to face the fireplace. It was then that I saw the happy faces of the family that lived here beaming down on me. School and christmas pictures hung around the wall, and sat in frames of glass and gemstones. I gasped, my breathing breaking up in short, quick breaths. This could not be happening to me, this could not be happening!

  I whined as he brought a pair of clippers to my face, held me by the nape of my neck, and cut the rubber strands one tiny bit at a time. Shaking, my lips now free but held together at the sides, and covered in the thread, I breathed through my mouth. I regretted it instantly, as he shoved the glass of Cole's blood against my mouth and poured it in. I coughed and spurted, struggling against him, as he clamped my mouth shut and I felt the blood run down my throat. I choked, sobbing, my body trembling. He grinned, grabbing me by my hair, and pulled me off the chair.

  "Come, my dear, we've fun to be had!"

  I fought against him furiously, my small body, now full of adrenaline, punched at his chest and kicked his legs. I struggled and writhed as he dragged me into a bedroom, where two people were sprawled in the floor. I sobbed out hysterically at the sight of a woman with her neck torn open, and the man whose chest had been clawed apart. Fear racked through my body as Adelbrecht threw me across the bed, tearing off his shiny jacket, and then covering me. I cried out, for Cole, but heard nothing but the sounds of myself and the Judge as I struggled. I soon found myself fighting against his hands and teeth, which ventured all over me and tore at my skin. I cried out in pain, and then screamed in surprise as something collided with the back of Adelbrecht's skull. Cole, mangled but peering at us through one blurry eye, had managed his way into the bedroom. Adelbrecht grinned, climbed off me, and saluted Cole mockingly. He then grabbed Cole by the neck and pulled him forward, crunching his teeth into Cole's throat and causing blood to splatter across the bed. I screamed in terror, unable to look away as Cole's eye rolled into the back of his head, and faltered. Adelbrecht dropped Cole, smiling down at him, and turned back to me. "Where were we?"

  I gulped, shaking in repulsion and terror as Adelbrecht towered over me, taking my underwear off slowly and staring at my eyes with cold joy. I trembled with each sob, unable to bear his touch. His ice cold hands ran all over me, toying and tugging at me and he ripped my hair out of its bun. I cried out as he grasped my fake eyelashes and tugged them off, and then my necklace. All my jewlery was flung to the floor, and I stared up at him desperately trying to cover myself. But I knew there was no point.

  Teeth bared, Adelbrecht unfastened his belt and trousers. I expected him to crawl sadistically back on top of me, but he didn't. He pulled my ankles and dragged me to him, holding me at the edge of the bed against him.

  "You stand at the threshold of death," he whispered into my ear, removing my sapphire earrings. "So beautiful, my princess."

  I was silent as he thrust himself into me, digging away at my insides. I stared ahead, at the picture of the couple that once called this house their home.

  Pain pierced my throat, and I realized he had sank his teeth into my artery. I gasped in agony, crying out as he dug too deep into my body, and drained my heart of blood at the same time. I collapsed, dry tears now caking my face. The floral bedspread was splattered with blood, and my body leaked fluids that were not all my own. I shook as he took my head again, and held his wrist against my lips. I fought it, but he won. Unable to fight back, he squeezed rusty-flavored blood onto my tongue. I swallowed, partly because I wanted this death to be final. I watched his eyes glimmer a hateful red color, and then fell back into a black abyss.

  Two

  I awoke disoriented and numb. My naked body was covered in something hard and rough. Unable to see, I wiggled experimentally against the object and discovered that it was a piece of tarp. I peered out of it, to see sunlight beaming down through thick forest. Gulping, I struggled to wiggle my aching body. To my horror, I saw ants crawling across my arm. I cried, moving as fast as my slow body would allow to brush them off. I was drowning in them. The shade of the tree hid some of them in darkness, so I moved into the sunbeams. I screamed, panic siezing me as I was hit with a horrible agony under the sun's glare. I brushed away the ants, which had crawled across my face and filled my hair and ears. They clung to me stubbornly, but I eventually managed to get them off. My attention fell upon the tarp, and I saw a swarm of maggots.

  Shrieking, I jumped back into the sun, but was burned again. My skin glared a red hue as I fled back into the safety of the shadow. "Oh my god," I cried, and buried my face into my hands. I could feel my lips, still wounded with thread, were dry and peeling. Their once full shape now distorted by the snaking pattern of the thread. My eyes were sore and painful to touch, and my small, round face felt off for some reason. I sniffled, reaching down and grabbing the tarp. I shook it to clear it of its bugs, and then wrapped it around myself. I covered myself with it like a cape, letting a bit of it hang over my face. Sniffling, I trudged out of the dead leaves and moss.

  I walked for two hours, through rough patches of rock, plants, and vines. My throat was dry and I was starving. I sobbed horribly, tired and scared. Everyone probably thought I was dead. I kept walking until I came to a trailer. It was an old thing, with a small camper sitting near it. The trailer had a tree behind it, swamping most of the yard infront of the trailer in shade. Both were an ugly tan color with small and large brown stripes across the bottom. Wooden steps were built up to them, and they sat around what appeared to be a barbeque area. A man-made well sat at the far right side of the property, which had a "Do Not Trespass" sign posted at every right angle of the square lot.

  Hope raced through me. Maybe someone here could help me. I blinked warily, looking for signs of someone, and saw an old, beat-up truck sitting behind the trailer. Desperately, I hobbled to the small shack and hit the door. I didn't expect it to be so loud. I knocked again and my fist flew through the wood. I gaped. I had just destroyed someone's door.

  "What the hell do you want?!"

  I stepped back as an angry man's voice howled from the back of the trailer. I waited and watched as a gray-bearded man with a ball cap on looked through the hole and went red.

  "You broke m
y damn door, you bitch!" he screamed, his toothless mouth curling in a snarl.

  "I didn't mean to, sir! I need help! Please help me!"

  "Oh, I'll help you all right, just wait right there while I get my shotgun!"

  "No, sir, please!" I cried, and listened as the man's shouts were accompanied by a woman's.

  "Who the hell do you think you are?" An old woman with overlarge breasts and a thin nightgown screamed at me. "You freak!"

  The old couple flung the door open.

  "She's naked, Paul! Look at her!"

  "You get back to where you belong! We don't want your kind here!"

  I howled in anger, "I was kidnapped, you have to help me!"

  The man and woman rolled their eyes. It suddenly dawned on me that I had found a pair of outcasts that had some sort of mental disorder. Panic siezed me, and I pleaded. "Please, you have to help me!"

  "I bet," the old woman jeered. "I think you're just another distraction like those other younguns, coming here and trying to steal our money!"

  "I don't want your money!"

  Paul lifted his rifle, "You have until I count to three. One."

  "Help me! I'm begging you!"

  "Two."

  I snarled, reached up and grabbed the barrel. Before I knew it, I was consumed by rage. Adrenaline pulsed through me.

  "Paul, she's a demon! She's not of God!"

  I reached over to the woman and grabbed her throat, and pushed Paul down along with her by his gun. The two old people hissed in rage, and I lost my tarp as I was pushed back. I had managed to push them into the small, dank living room. Seething, I pointed at my mouth, "Can't you see this?"

  "She's a meth addict, Paul! Just look at her!" the woman sobbed.

  I swallowed as their paranoia hit me, and I realized I had indeed stumbled across hardcore rednecks. I gathered my tarp around myself and calmly said, "I need to get home!"

  Paul's partially blind eyes glinted with hatred, "Then get on! Leave me and my wife alone, you pot head!"

  I felt my stomach curl with fury, and Paul pointed his rifle at my feet.

  "Get on!"

  Teeth bared, I stepped forward. Paul's eyes widened and his nose wrinkled, and then he shot once beside me.

  "I've killed a man! If you don't believe me, I'll show you!"

  It then hit me the real problem. This couple was running from the law. I was just another dead person they didn't want to get caught with. I screamed, too angry to care anymore, and flung my hand at Paul's face. My once-perfect nails scratched his face and blood wept from the cut. The woman howled, throwing herself at me, but I caught her. I threw her off, faster and easier than I thought I could.

  "You'll pay for that," Paul chanted shakily, "you bitch!"

  I curled my lip, but found something distracting me. A red glint, a sparkling coming from his cheek. I watched in a daze as time slowed to a still, and all I could see was the dull glimmering of his ancient blood. It pulled at me, made something in me rise up and purr. I blinked, and he was moving again in real time. The old woman moaned from where I had thrown her to the ground. I bared my teeth, and felt my bottom lip get pierced by my teeth. Since when had they reached that far? I licked away the blood, still holding on to my tarp, and watched the hunter raise his rifle to my head. I cocked my head to the side, now fascinated. He had indeed killed a human before.

  Quicker than I'd ever moved, I rushed beside him. He grunted as I ripped the rifle away, threw it aside, and grabbed him by his jacket. Time stopped again, and I watched a tear of blood swim down his ugly, old face. Somehow, the blood was all that mattered. As if in a dream, I lunged at his cheek, licking away the blood. I could hear his screams, distant and blurry, through the haze of my bloodlust. When I drew back, the old woman was standing behind me with the rifle pointed to my bared back.

  "You bitch!" she wailed, and pressed her finger on the trigger.

  I snapped the man's neck and walked to her side, taking the rifle from her and holding it to her head. She whimpered as I pulled the trigger, letting her now headless body crumple to the floor.

  The man's blood still twinkled at me from where he lay, and I crawled to him. Sitting on his chest, I held his head away and sank my teeth into his neck. Thick, warm blood flooded my throat. For the first time, I felt whole. I felt alive. The blood smothered me as I drank greedily from the human well, forgetting who I was or what I had been doing. All that mattered was drinking, even if it killed me.

  I awoke at midnight with a sharp headache. My sides hurt, and the house rank of mildew and death. I had dragged the dead bodies into the camper, and taken shelter in the couple's old home. I blinked wearily at pictures of the old man in a pastor's uniform. Reverand Paul Asscott, and his former-lover-now-wife, stood infront of a church with Paul's first family in one hidden photo. Two little girls in Easter dresses held hands with Mrs. Asscott, while Joanna and Paul stood on either side.

  I climbed out of the bed, which was now covered in mud and blood, and crept into the bathroom. I avoided the mirror, unwilling to look at myself after killing two people. I climbed into the shower and turned on the water, stealing a bottle of cheap, store-brand body wash and scrubbing myself with it. I washed my face and between my thighs, desperately trying to rid myself of the horrors there.

  Mud, bugs, stray ants, and blood covered the bottom of the yellow and mold-covered tub. I peeled back the ugly, pink shower curtain and stepped into the foggy room. Dirty towels covered the floor. I found a clean one in the cupboard, and used it to dry myself. I finally went to the mirror and sank closer to it. I wiped away the fog and stared blearily at my face. My round face was bruised, with small cuts everwhere. My round eyes were bloodshot, and the blue in them was darker than usual. My once nicely-shaped nose now had a bump where it had broken. My mouth was a nightmare. I did have pretty lips, not to thin and not to full. Now, they were covered in scabs and threads. I hesitantly pulled at one of them and squinted as pain shot through my lips. I shrugged. Better now than never.

  I gulped, grabbing them one by one, and pulling the threads out from the small holes. Blood poured into the sink, and I cried out curses as I threw each one away. I finally emptied my lips of the horrid pieces of plastic, and held a wet towel across my mouth. After I cleared my body of all its uncomfortable fluids and threads, I grabbed a bottle of alcohol and headed to the bedroom. I poured the liquid over my wounds, and waited for the burn. I narrowed my eyes as the liquid remained cold, and did nothing. Wary that I was doing something wrong, I doused my mouth again, but felt nothing but coolness. I recapped the bottle and went to the closet. Nothing but ugly old-lady clothing looked back at me. I fumbled miserabley through the closet before finding an old, button-up dress. I put it on, and then put on a gray t-shirt over it. I took out a pair of shoes that were too big and threw them back in.

  I stood in the awful bedroom for a while, just staring at my hands and bare feet. I didn't know what had happened. Would my family find me? Surely the cops were looking. They would find me here and think that the people that had killed Cole killed the couple as well. My heart thumped miserably against my chest. Unless they thought I was all ready dead. I wimpered and went to the living room. An old television set sat against the window by the door. I turned it on and flipped to a channel that had news on at five.

  I waited through a rerun of some talk show program for the news to come on. Blaring numbers and letters announced that that breaking news had erupted from Fultdon. My heart pacing erratically, I waited to hear news that they had caught our attackers.

  "Students at Fultdon Valley High School in Cid County are mourning the tragic deaths of three classmates. Here with the latest news, is Drake Devins. Drake?"

  A handsome black man in a blue and white pinstriped shirt appeared on the screen. He stood infront of where we had crashed. Police officers and some men in important looking uniforms walked around him.

  "Good evening, everyone. Today, families and friends are mourning the tragic loss of thre
e of their own."

  The screen changed to show Cole's, Chloe's, and my school pictures.

  "Twins Cole and Chloe Ryans as well as their close friend Georganna Blake have been announced as dead by the Cid County Police Department early this morning. The suspects for these deaths have not been identified, but invesitigators believe that someone here might have some answers."

  The screen changed again to a screenshot of the house where we were taken.

  "This is where the body of Cole Ryans was found, alongside the owners of this small, rural home. The DNA of Georganna Blake was found in the bedroom, and officials have confirmed that she was murdered. Her body has of yet to be discovered."

  I turned off the television as the camera focused on my mother and brother, who stood surrounded by yellow tape, clinging to each other.

  My nose and eyes burned, and I shook with sobs. I was lost. They weren't going to look for me. Racked with guilt over what I'd done, I curled up into a tight ball.

  "Hello, Cinderella."

  I screamed in fright. My eyes darted wildly to the doorway where Adelbrecht stood grinning at me. "May I come in?"

  "Hell no!" I screamed, terrified.

  "Oh well," he held his hands up, "You've got to come out sooner or later."

  I whimpered, scampering away from the door. "No, please don't come in, oh no, oh no--"

  "Shut up, stupid girl." he called from the dark. "I won't come in and hurt you. I wouldn't hurt one my own, after all."

  I sobbed into the filthy bedspread, waiting for him to come kill me. I waited for thirty minutes, in silence. I crawled off the bed and crept back into the living room. Adelbrecht stood leaning against the door, a smirk drawl plastered across his face.