by Yuriko Hime
She nodded agreeably. "This proves that age only does so much for maturity. It is the collection of experiences that makes us who we are. I'm writing a book about that. Anyhow, just keep on posted for my messages. A friend called me earlier regarding Holy Angels. She might have found someone."
A surge of hope bloomed in my heart. "That's great!" I said. "I hope your friend calls again." A beep sounded from my bag. I mumbled an excuse me to the Doctor to check the message. It was from Mr. Prestuso. He was informing me the address of our meeting place tonight. I put the phone back in the bag. "That's the client I'm supposed to meet," I said to the Doctor. "I need to tie up loose ends before accompanying Blaze and Uno for the shooting."
Doctor Sanders stood. "In that case, don't keep him waiting. I'm happy you're doing something for yourself. Your mother will be proud."
"You think so?" I asked hopefully.
She adjusted her glasses. "A hundred percent."
After leaving the office, I headed to Carter's milk tea shop. He was acting like I was getting married and migrating to another country. He wasn't even like that when his sister got hitched. Regardless, it was great of him to treat me like family. Before leaving him for my next meeting, he produced a paper bag full of snacks. "It feels like you're entering Survivor," he said. "I won't see you guys for a while. Take care of Bianca for me."
"I will," I promised. "I've packed hundreds of gums for her. Just in case."
"I checked the bags she's going to bring. It's all clean from you-know-what." His brows bumped together. "Keep an eye on her please. Make sure that she eats right. Remind her to meditate."
I patted his back. "Yes grandpa. You can always call her to say that yourself." He turned away, wiping his eyes. "Are you crying?!" I asked incredulously.
"Stop teasing me okay?" he said with a thick voice. "It's hard when your girlfriend and best friend are leaving."
"Cheer up. We'll be back before you know it." It must have been hard to feel left alone like that. Maybe that was why a lot of celebrities break up with their partners. The schedule was unpredictable, and someone who didn't come from the same industry would have a hard time understanding. For once I was glad that I was Uno and Blaze's manager.
For my next meeting, Mr. Prestuso texted me to say that he was running later than intended. One of my employees had an emergency, he messaged. I have to personally see to her. That was kind of him, I thought as I drove to the meeting place.
The meeting point was at a bench near the harbor. It was five minutes to six when I arrived. The place was nearly deserted. I could only see one or two bystanders in the distance, and a couple holding hands, walking away from me. The smell of the sea made me feel at ease. I let the streetlamps guide me to my destination.
My phone rang five minutes after sitting on the bench. Thinking that it was Mr. Prestuso, I answered without looking at the caller. "Hello?"
"Hi baby," Blaze said from the other line. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. It was a pleasant surprise to hear her voice. "When are you coming home?" she asked.
I checked my watch. "Around eight. I'm still waiting for the client."
"Don't stay out too late. It's hard to sleep when my pillow is not in the house." I sensed her smile. "You're blushing aren't you?"
"Am not," I denied, touching my cheek. She laughed. "It's your fault Blaze. You shouldn't call my boobs your pillow." I smiled like an idiot. One day she just blurted that while we were fooling around in the sofa. And by fooling around I meant we were being touchy without trying to go overboard. The recollection made my stomach flip. "I'll snuggle next to you when I get home," I said.
"I'll hold your word to that."
I was just tucking my phone inside my pocket when a deep voice said, "Excuse me." I turned around to find a tall man looking at me. I jumped up. He must be Mr. Prestuso. "It's nice to finally meet you," he said, offering me his hand. I shook it without a second thought. Like a true businessman, his dress shirt down to his black pants were ironed. His shoes were shiny, and he was wearing eyeglasses that made him look smart.
"Nice to meet you too Mr. Prestuso."
"Please call me Geoff." He gestured behind us. "I'm sorry for coming too late, but we can still go to the warehouse." He pulled his sleeve so he could glance at his silver watch. "Some employees who are pulling an overtime are still there."
"Okay," I said. "Should I follow you with my car?"
"No need. I didn't bring mine. If you don't mind, you can drive us to the location." This was why Uno and Blaze wanted me to have a car of my own. It was exactly for situations like this. I was glad that they gave me the Jeep. I nodded my consent to Geoff, and we headed to the parking.
"I've been following your work for months," he said later as we were traveling. "It's hard to find a good designer that can satisfy my taste."
I focused on the road while driving. It was unusual to have a new passenger sitting beside me. It was either my girls or Carter. "That's good to hear," I said. "I'm glad you trusted someone like me. Given my age, most clients are content to buy just one or two designs. I was pretty surprised when you wanted to work with me."
"Age doesn't matter at all," he said. "I myself got into my chosen field at a younger age than most." He shook his head. "It's a pity that some of my colleagues thought I was unfit to handle the situation." He pointed at a turn. "Please take that left."
"Unfit? How come?" I turned the car to the left.
He shrugged. "They said I have a bit of a temper. But that's just them being jealous of my creativity." He pointed to another turn. "Take that, then head down the exit."
Mr. Prestuso was an avid talker. He raved about his children with fondness. He said he had to leave them because of grave circumstances, but now he was determined to bring them back together so they could be one big happy family again. I warmed up to the guy immediately. One thing kept bothering me though. It seemed that we were taking a road that I was familiar with. I just couldn't figure out where exactly.
"Take that right and stop by the building," he said.
Recognition dawned on my face when I realized where we ended up. I was too confused that I felt nauseous and wanted to vomit. I turned to Mr. Prestuso. "I don't understand," I said. "Why are we in Holy Angels?"
Chapter 35. Psycho
More than being a mother and a friend, mom taught me a lot too. One subject she particularly liked was human nature. When I asked her about the strangeness of our neighbor, she told me that humans by nature were good. Sometimes it could be a biological reaction of the body, or the accumulation of bad experience that made people react a certain way. In the case of my neighbor, mom advised me to see past the strangeness and focus on the positive traits.
While I tried to live by that guideline, even after encountering Uno and Blaze, I had a hard time following it right now. As I sat in the car staring at my companion, Mr. Prestuso, the strangeness overwhelmed anything else, even the rational part of my mind. It was screaming, warning me that something was wrong. It wasn't until he smiled like a creep that I realized what was about to happen.
I tried to make an escape through the door. Before I opened it, he had already produced a burlap sack from his pocket, which he quickly used to cover my head. My vision was occluded by the thick material in seconds. The small holes made it hard to breathe. I bucked away from him, but the seatbelt held me back in position. "Don't struggle!" he said. "You're only going to make it worse."
"Get off!" I snarled. "Help! Help me!" My screams were muffled by the bag. Though my fingers were slippery, I was able to latch on to his wrist and dig my nails. We wrestled for control. I heard him curse under his breath before something hard smashed at the back of my head. The unbearable ache was followed by white dots behind my closed eyes. Everything turned foggy. Until finally, I was forced to succumbed to the darkness.
Drip.
Drip.
There was a faint sound of watering dribbling somewhere in the distance. I forgot to turn off the fa
ucet in the bathroom, I thought.
Drip.
Drip.
If only I could get myself off the bed.
Drip.
Drip.
I felt lightheaded. Must have eaten something bad last night. I moved, only to be hit with an overwhelming urge to vomit. Ugh.
"Rise and shine!" a deep voice said. Footsteps echoed in the room. Not long after, a cloth was removed from my head. I blinked my eyes open. Everything in the room spun. It took a moment to focus on a lone figure standing a few feet from me, his back turned. Why was he in my bedroom? I glanced around, trying to find my digital clock. It was gone. So was my bed and everything I was familiar with. My blurry eyes concentrated on the water tanks lined to the left. They looked old and rusty, as if they've been in the basement for years.
The reality hit me. I squeaked in shock. I was neither in my room nor the girl's house. This was not a dream but a nightmare. The events that took place before jumped in my head. I was supposed to meet my client, Mr. Prestuso. I turned to the figure in front of me. He was humming low to himself, not a clue that I was already awake. My stomach twisted painfully, remembering how I struggled. He must have struck the back of my head, making me lose consciousness. Oh God!
Drip.
Drip.
Despite the dizziness, I looked down for the first time to take note of my condition. A thick rope restrained me to a pillar, rendering my hands useless by my side. I swallowed hard. It felt like there were barbed wires on my throat. Carter always told me that I wasn't easily frightened or disturbed, but here in this moment, I was scared to death. What did the man want from me? Who was he? Thought after thought ran in my mind as I stared at my captor.
He would kill me. He would do unimaginable things, then dump my body somewhere no one would find it. I tried moving my arms, yanking it even. The rope didn't show signs of letting up. It bound me to the pillar, like I was a bait that was destined to stay on the hook.
Drip.
Drip.
Those were not the drip of water anymore but the sweat on my forehead, trickling down to my chin. I searched for a way to escape. Sadly, there were no instruments in the immediate environment that I could use to break free from the rope, assuming I could move an inch or so, which I couldn't. I took deep breaths to calm myself. The smell of rotting eggs made it hard to swallow the air. My nose rejected it, though my mind acknowledged through the small information that I must be in the basement. No one would hear me if I screamed.
Prestuso turned my way before I could come up with a plan. The maniac sneered, his way of a greeting. "Good morning Riess," he said. "I trust that you slept well?" He unbuttoned his collar and pulled the sleeves to his elbows.
I licked my lips nervously. "I'm not Riess," I said. "My name is Riri Chance. You have the wrong girl." I stared down at the thick rope, trying to get my point across. "Please remove this, Mr. Prestuso. We can talk in a civilized manner."
He leaned back on the sink, looking disappointed at me. "You think you're Riri, but your real name is Riess. Didn't Estella tell you that, or did she enjoy pretending to be your mother too much?" I kept a deadpan expression, even whilst I felt the need to scream. "See?" he said when I didn't answer. "Estella didn't tell you that you're Riess." He chuckled. "Well you are. And now you're home."
"W-who are you?" I asked, my head spinning.
He sighed, as if the question made him bored. "You're my child," he said. "Everyone here is my child. On that note, there is something I have to do. Excuse me for a while." Prestuso didn't glance at me as he went to the far corner on the right. Only then did I see a door that was partly occluded by another pillar.
As soon as he disappeared behind the door, I struggled with the ropes manically. My life depended on the escape. I gritted my teeth and grunted, pulling and yanking my hand with what strength I had left. I seized moving when Prestuso returned, a tray in his hands. In quick strides, he was next to the sink, placing the tray with finesse on the surface. I gasped when he raised a knife. "Stay put while I prepare something to eat for us," he said, grinning at me over his shoulder. His pointy incisors were more disturbing than anything.
I felt a temporary whoosh of relief when he faced forward. For a moment, nothing was heard except for the chopping and slicing. He whistled low while he prepared, masking the dripping of the water. "Finished!" he exclaimed. Prestuso went to me whilst holding a sandwich in his bare hands.
I shrank back on the pillar. He stopped inches from me and held the food in front of my face. The smell of cheese and mayonnaise didn't sit well in my stomach. "Eat," he said. How did he expect me to swallow that when all I wanted to do was barf? "It's best if you eat it before it gets cold." His eyes gleamed maliciously. "Or else I'll be forced to feed it to you."
I took a bite from the bread reluctantly. It was cold and dry like Styrofoam. I chewed mechanically as he stared at me, struggling not to gag. "I'm a good father aren't I?" Prestuso said. He offered the sandwich again, to which I had no choice but to take another bite. He brushed his hand on my hair with a big grin on his lips. I could do nothing but shiver in trepidation. "If only they didn't take me away, I would have seen you children grow. What a pity."
Prestuso removed the bread from my sight and headed for the sink. "Enough with the eating. We don't want you to look like a fat pig," he said under his breath. He dumped the rest of the sandwich on the tray. I spit the remnants discreetly while he wasn't looking.
I shoved the urge to cry aside, putting the importance of survival more than anything. "Why are you doing this?" I asked in a raspy voice. "Why do you know my mother?"
Annoyance crossed his features. He removed his eyeglasses and put it in his pocket. Prestuso looked much younger than I thought. Maybe he was around mom's age when she died, or one to two years her junior. He slicked back his dark hair away from his clean shaven face. "Estella was my subordinate," he said. "To put it simply, I was her boss and she was jealous of me. The old hag."
"You're from Holy Angels?" I said disbelievingly.
"I am Holy Angels," he boasted. Prestuso took a piece of paper from his pocket, which he unfolded with trembling fingers. The man moved closer so I could look at the printed picture. "This is what they did to me," he said a little too loudly. His spit hit me on the forehead. I shuddered and recoiled, not from his saliva, but the photograph of the bearded man the police showed me before.
I was stupid not to recognize him. He looked a bit different now, but his deep set eyes and calculating stare were good giveaways. He was a psychopath, and I was a dead woman. Prestuso shoved the paper on my face before letting go of it. The picture fell slowly to the floor, along with my dignity and hopes. "If I didn't escape from there, they would have let me rot forever," he said, his nostril flaring. Prestuso stared disdainfully at the paper before stomping on it angrily.
"Your mother, and all the other bitches were so jealous that they put me in there!" He thumped his chest. "Me, Prestuso. Can you believe that?!" He raised his hand in the air, then began marching to and fro the room like a broken robot. What the hell? Uno and Blaze had a problem, but they weren't this far off. Prestuso was a full on lunatic.
Think Riri, think! What could help me in this situation? An idea popped in my head. My phone! I put it in my pocket didn't I? If I could reach to it, I would be able to call the police and my girls. I wiggled against the rope, trying to feel for any bumps in my jeans. It was then that Prestuso chose to stop and stare at me with unblinking eyes. He reached into his back pocket and showed me the phone I was looking for.
"I'm not stupid," he said. "After planning this for months, you think I'll let anything slip through? Not a chance." I cringed when he slammed my phone on the floor and smashed it with his foot. The glass gave way, cracking into many pieces. He wagged his finger at me. "I've imagined this scene a million times in my head Riess. I was so happy to finally see you that I even invited a guest over for you."
The man skipped happily towards the door. "Don't
leave," he said before exiting. "I'll be right back." If this was his way of intimidating me, he was met with tremendous success. I closed my eyes and prayed for my safety. Even then, I could imagine the horror that would happen soon after. I've watched enough movies to know that totally insane people like him would resort to torture.
A cold hand touched my cheek. "Please don't!" I squeaked, opening my eyes. Blaze stared back at me. I've never felt happier in my life to see her. Knights in shining armor existed after all.
She hugged me quickly. "Keep it low," she said. I clamped my mouth shut and nodded. We studied each other's predicament. Just by looking at her, I knew that Blaze was trying hard to keep it together. Her clenched teeth told me that she was angry, but her quivering hands said she was on the verge of losing control after seeing me like this.
"How did you find me?" I whispered.
"Uno placed a tracker on the Jeep when we bought it," she murmured. "Don't blame her. I had a hand in it too." Blaze traced the roped with her hands, trying to find the point where it was turned into a knot. "When you didn't go home last night, I called Carter and Doctor Sanders to ask what happened. Carter answered, but the doctor never picked up the call. I kept trying your phone too, but it was busy, so I resorted to tracing the car. I didn't realize I'd end up here of all places. I thought it was a joke." She groaned and returned to me. "The knot is too tight. There's a knife in the Jeep."
"Don't leave me!" I pleaded, feeling the sense of panic linger. "Please! There's a madman out there! Where's your phone?"
"Battery is dead after calling you for hours." Her gaze hardened. "Don't worry, I'll protect you." Blaze glanced around, looking for anything to use. Her eyes landed on the knife in the sink. She rejoiced with a pump of her fist in the air before dashing to it.
She was returning to my side when Prestuso bellowed, "I'M BAAAAACK!"
Chapter 36. Origin
Very few words could leave an awful impression on me. "I'm sorry for your mother's death," was one of them. So was, "All your possessions would be given to charity," or "Uno is suffering from a disorder." Among all of them, the psychopath Prestuso bellowing, "I'm back," frightened me the most. Nothing was more spine tingling than hearing his maniacal laughter, together with the dragging sound he was making as he approached the room.
