DYING TO SURVIVE (Dark Erotica)

by Scott Hildreth

  Dana sat on the bench beside where Meghan was standing and began to cry.

  “Throw up then you raggedy assed bitch. I can tell you one fucking thing - I am not going to be that person. Fuck that. I am not going to be that person, so don’t even ask. Anybody asks me, I’ll choke you to death in your sleep,” Elena barked toward the wall.

  Filled with emotion, Elena’s breathing became labored. As she felt a lump rise in her throat, she attempted to swallow. After two failed attempts at swallowing, the bile began to rise in her throat again. As she took the two steps toward the refrigerator, she attempted to recall exactly what Ryan had said.

  Tomorrow at precisely zero eight hundred hours one of you is going to die.

  I will require that someone forfeit their life, willfully. This will allow the remaining women to live. If, when I return at zero eight hundred hours, no one is willing to forfeit their life, I will kill everyone in the room immediately.

  Discuss this amongst yourselves and reach a decision.

  The dark stain on the floor beneath the epoxy coating is an indication of what I am willing to do.

  Sleep well.

  Elena took a drink of her water and looked at the floor. A large stain underneath the grey enamel coating was almost as large as the room itself. In the three weeks that she had been in the room, she had not noticed the stain. Now that it had been brought to her attention, she couldn’t bring herself to stop looking at it.

  “Elena, you can’t say that,” Meghan said softly.

  “I just did. And I’ll say it again. Go ahead, one of you fuckers ask me, go ahead,” she tipped the bottle of water to her lips and choked down another drink.

  “That’s what I thought,” Elena added. As she spoke, her stomach heaved, and the water rose in her throat.

  Quickly, Elena turned, ran to the bathroom and leaned over the toilet. As soon as her head was over the stool, she began to vomit. As she vomited, she began to cry. The sounds of Dana and Elena crying filled the room. As she hovered over the toilet, she thought of her daughter. She would be the first of Elena’s family to graduate high school. The graduation, if Elena’s perception of time was correct, should be in two weeks.

  Satisfied that she was done vomiting, Elena slowly stood and walked to the sink. She rinsed her face and hands in the sink and looked up into the mirror. As she turned back toward the room, she shook her head in a combination of wonder and disgust.

  “This sick fuck. How are we going to do this?” Elena asked as she walked into the room.

  “Draw straws?” Dana sobbed as she looked up from the bench where she sat, crying.

  “We don’t have any straws, and we ain’t drawing straws. It’s one of you three,” Elena hissed.

  “You can’t say that Elena. You aren’t excluded,” Meghan responded.

  “I just said it. He said voluntarily. I will never volunteer to have this sick piece of shit fuck me, kill me, or whatever he’s gonna do. He’ll probably cut us into little bitty pieces and spread us all over the city,” Elena complained as she began pacing across the floor.

  “Okay, fuck it. I’ll just decide. Shellie, it’s you. I hate you anyway. All you do is pace across the floor and whine. You bring Dana and me down. You’re fucking annoying. It’s you. There, it’s decided,” Elena growled.

  “Elena!” Meghan screamed, “You can’t do that. Basically, you’re killing her.”

  “I don’t know her. And fuck you too. I don’t know you, either. Fuck that bitch, she can either agree to do it, or I’ll just choke her out and toss her at him when he unlocks the door tomorrow,” Elena responded as she walked around the perimeter of the room.

  The sound of Dana crying became louder.

  Elena’s remarks made Meghan uneasy. To be so willing to take the life of another human being made Elena no more sane or civil than Ryan. For a moment, Meghan pondered death, and what life meant to her. Thoughts of her daughter growing up without a mother began to trouble her. She thought of her sister, and whether or not she would volunteer to raise Amanda.

  Meghan wondered the effect not having a paternal parent would have on her daughter as an adult. What effect, if any, her mother being murdered would have on her ability to live a productive life. She wondered how many people would come to her funeral, and if the service would be pleasant. She struggled with the thought of whether or not Mark would come to the service.

  “I don’t want to die,” Shellie said.

  “I’m not going to die,” Elena said in a stern tone.

  “How are we going to do this?” Meghan asked openly to the room.

  Sitting on the bench, her elbows on her thighs and her face in her hands, Dana’s sobs grew louder.

  “I don’t have…” Dana struggled to speak.

  “I don’t have a family,” she continued to try to speak as tears ran down her cheeks.

  “I don’t have any idea of how long I may live, and both my parents are dead,” Dana began to sob uncontrollably,

  “I can’t…do”

  “I can’t…”

  “I can’t leave him alone,” Dana finished speaking and continued to cry uncontrollably.

  “I thought you said you were divorced,” Elena turned and faced Dana with a look of disgust.

  “You did, I know you did. You lying bitch you said you were divorced,” Elena shook her head as she looked at Dana.

  As tension filled the room the severity of the situation weighed heavily on Meghan’s mind. She realized if she wanted to live, she would need to convince someone else to die. Fifteen minutes prior, the thought of doing so was nothing less than murder. Now, as she stood and watched Elena glare at Dana, the thought of persuading one of the others to die seemed to be nothing more than survival.

  Preservation of her daughter’s future.

  Saving herself.

  Preservation of life.

  Meghan looked at Shellie. Emotionless, Shellie sat on the bench and bit her fingernails. Consciously, Meghan decided that she agreed with Elena, Shellie needed to volunteer to die. Meghan would need to determine a way to convince her.

  “I fucking hate liars. You lying bitch,” Elena said as she stood over Dana, who continued to sob into her hands as she sat on the bench.

  “Elena,” as Meghan whispered, Elena turned to face her. Without speaking, Meghan shook her head and motioned to the floor beside her.

  Quietly, Elena approached Meghan. As she stood beside her, Meghan whispered into Elena’s ear.

  “We have to convince one of these two to do it,” Meghan whispered.

  “What…”

  “What are…”

  “What are you two talking…”

  “About?” Dana looked up from her hands and sobbed.

  “We ain’t talking to you, you lying bitch,” Elena barked.

  “Don’t be so mean to her,” Meghan whispered, “Let’s be nice and see if we can talk one of them into it.”

  Elena nodded and took a sip from the bottle of water. Meghan tapped her on the shoulder, turned, and walked slowly and softly to the bench beside Shellie.

  “Let’s talk about this sensibly,” Meghan offered as she sat on the bench beside Shellie.

  “You live in Augusta?” Meghan asked Shellie.

  Shellie looked up from biting her fingernails and nodded.

  “What do you do? For work?” Meghan asked softly.

  “I drive a bus. A school bus,” Shellie responded as he nibbled at her nails.

  Without expressing emotion, Meghan began to consider how to approach Shellie regarding death. As Meghan thought of what to say, she realized that not one material thing she owned was as valuable as life. It seemed ridiculous of her to even try to reason with coming to terms with death. Nothing was more valuable than life, and there was not one thing anyone could say to her would convince her otherwise.

  “So, you’re divorced?” Meghan asked quietly.

  Shellie nodded her head slowly and softly.

  “What do you make drivi
ng a bus? Thirty grand?” Meghan asked.

  “Thirty four,” Shellie smiled as she turned to look at Meghan.

  Meghan paused and nodded her head slowly. As she looked up at Elena, Elena smiled and slowly walked toward Dana, who continued to sob into her hands.

  Elena sat on the bench beside Dana and put her arm over Dana’s shoulder. As she did, Dana looked up. Her eyes swollen, and her face covered in tears, she attempted to speak.

  “I have…” Dana pulled the bottom of her shirt to her face and wiped her tears.

  “I uhhm. I have. Oh God. This is so hard.”

  “I have breast cancer,” as the words escaped Dana’s mouth she became less controlled in her breathing and the sobbing slowed to an uncontrolled gasping for breath.

  Dana wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and coughed as she tried to speak again. Elena slowly offered her bottle of water to Dana. Dana looked up, accepted the bottle, and took a drink.

  “I found out two months ago,” Dana continued, “It doesn’t look good. My mother and my aunt have both…”

  Elena took the bottle of water from Dana’s hand and patted Dana’s shoulder, comforting her. “I’m so sorry,” Elena offered in a soft voice.

  “I’ve been thinking about dying for two months, and I don’t want to die,” Dana sobbed onto Elena’s shoulder.

  “None of us do,” Elena breathed into the back of Dana’s head.

  “It really doesn’t look like we have a choice, it’s just a matter of time,” Elena continued.

  Dana raised her head from Elena’s shoulders and nodded slowly. “I know, this is all so crazy. I’ve been two months fighting this and now it looks like it really doesn’t matter. I suppose it’s all God’s will.”

  “God has nothing to do with this,” Elena shook her head as she spoke.

  “Why would you say such a thing?” Dana asked as she wiped her eyes on her forearm.

  “It’s true. Look around you. God isn’t here, Dana. If God were here, we’d be on a beach somewhere, or shopping. Or I’d be at my daughter’s graduation. This is El Diablo.” Elena said as she looked around the room.

  “God is always present,” Dana offered as she fought to catch her breath.

  “No. No. No he isn’t. Not my God. He isn’t watching this shit and letting it happen. Sorry, chica.” Elena said as she released Dana’s head from her shoulder and stood from the bench.

  “Your God? Are you a Christian?” Dana stood from the bench as she spoke.

  “Yes, I’m a Christian,” Elena said over her shoulder as she walked toward the entrance door.

  Elena walked toward the door, thinking of her attendance at church as a child. Her family was raised Catholic, and as a child she attended church regularly. Her parents required that she attend church. It was part of her family’s schedule of weekly requirements. Her family grew up close in Texas, close to poverty, and she had become pregnant at seventeen. The religious belief of her family and the church prohibited marrying outside of the religion, premarital sex, or the possibility of abortion.

  Feeling trapped and alone, she left her family, moved to the mid-west, and abandoned her religious beliefs. For the last seventeen years, she had lived with her daughter. Although she had boyfriends on and off, she had never been in an actual relationship with a man as a live-in partner or a husband.

  Now, standing in the corner by the door, Elena began to wonder about her separation from God and church. She began to wonder if she were closer to God if this situation would potentially be different. She stared at the floor and tried to remember the last time she had attended church.

  “And you don’t think God has anything to do with this?” Dana asked as she approached Elena.

  “Shut up, Dana. I’m not going to talk about this anymore,” Elena said sharply as she turned away from Dana and faced the opposite wall.

  “Maybe it’s what we all need to talk about,” Dana stated as she wiped the remaining tears from her face.

  “Bitch, you keep nagging at me, I’ll make sure your dead ass is lying at this door in the morning,” Elena barked as Dana approached.

  Dana ran her hands through her hair and scratched her scalp with her fingertips. It was difficult for her to process someone claiming to be a Christian yet demanding God had no involvement or knowledge of events or happenings in their life. Raised in the mid-west, and a Methodist, Dana believed that God was forever present in her life.

  “God is our refuge and our strength, a very present help in trouble. Psalm 46:1,” Dana said softly.

  Elena turned, raised her right arm, and punched Dana in the mouth. As soon as her fist made impact with Dana’s face, Dana fell to the floor and began crying.

  “Holy shit, Elena,” Meghan shouted as she stood from the bench.

  “Oh my God,” Dana said as she wiped her mouth and looked at the blood on the back of her hand.

  “Yeah. See? Your God let you get your ass smacked, bitch. Keep it up. You’ll be waiting by the door in the morning. In a fucking pile, pendeja,” Elena shouted.

  “What the fuck?” Meghan said as she approached the two women.

  “Fucking bitch was God this, God that, God, God, God. I fucking told her. Bitch,” Elena spat on the floor beside Dana and took a step in the other direction.

  Meghan walked into the bathroom and returned quickly with a wet washcloth in her hand. Sitting upright and against the wall, Dana held her hand to her mouth. Meghan knelt beside her and handed her the washcloth.

  “Thank you,” Dana said as she accepted the washcloth.

  Dana wiped her mouth and looked at the bloody washcloth. She shook her head and wiped her mouth again with the wet cloth. Now regretting her having mentioned God, the pressure she placed on Elena, and mentioning her religious faith entirely - she began to question her ability to remain in the room safely and peacefully. With a heart full of regret and sorrow, she attempted to stand. As she stood, her legs wobbled beneath her.

  “Here, let me help you,” Meghan said as she reached under Dana’s arms to help her stand.

  “Fuck that bitch. Leave her ass on the floor,” Elena shouted across the room.

  Meghan shook her head slowly as she held Dana upright.

  “Thank you,” Dana whispered as she stood.

  Meghan blinked her eyes in acknowledgement.

  “I was just explaining to Shellie my reasoning in all of this. Trying to make the best sense of it,” Meghan said as she turned toward Elena and Shellie.

  “And?” Elena asked.

  “Well, without a doubt, someone is going to have to volunteer tomorrow morning to die. If not, we all die. I think we have to look at both sides of all available options. Hear me out, okay?” Meghan said as she faced the bench that Shellie and Elena were sitting on.

  Shellie nodded her head and continued biting her fingernails.

  “Whatever, okay,” Elena sighed.

  “Well there are really three scenarios. Correct me if I’m missing something,” Meghan paused as she stood before the two seated women, with Dana standing immediately behind her.

  “He kills one person and stops, that’s an option. And if he stops, he may keep the remaining people in here forever. That’s one scenario. The second one is this - he kills us all one at a time. Either of those two options, really, are the same as dying. It just gets down to which one of us has the guts to be the first - but the end result is the same, pretty much. The last option - he stops after the first person agrees to die, and releases the remaining people.” Meghan paused again and looked at all of the women.

  “So, let’s assume death or a life of captivity. None of us will ever see any of our friends, family, or anyone ever again. None of this really matters. Who’s first, who’s last, who has the guts or who doesn’t. But, if one person dies, and the others live, we should consider this, as a group,” Meghan took a deep breath.

  “Whoever agrees to die? Whoever that person is, the rest of us must agree to take care of that person’s daughter
or family or whatever. Whoever doesn’t die, whoever lives through this - they must be able, willing, and have the resources to take care of the deceased persons daughter. So, in my opinion, the least capable should consider going first. You know, in hopes of the rest of us, or at least one of us living. And that living person or persons will care for the deceased person’s family,” Meghan stopped speaking and rotated her head to the three women, waiting for a comment.

  “Sounds reasonable, I’m very capable,” Dana said in a muffled tone from behind the washcloth that covered her mouth.

  “Bitch, I am tired of that mouth. You’re dying of breast cancer, you should be first,” Elena barked as she shifted her weight on the bench.

  Meghan slowly turned and faced Dana. Dana pressed the washcloth tightly to her mouth and nodded her head. The small amount of sorrow Meghan felt for Dana was soon overcome with an intense feeling of relief that Dana was dying of cancer. Her imminent death, if left in the room for any period, would certainly make Dana a prime candidate for the first or potentially second victim. Meghan released a slow inaudible sigh of relief.

  “I’m sorry, Dana. I truly am,” Meghan lied as she closed her eyes and attempted to appear to be stricken by grief. She raised her right hand to her face and covered her mouth.

  Softly, Dana began to cry. She cried for reasons other than her cancerous breast. She stood knowing that once she begun to speak of God, she felt she had gained the strength to forfeit her life. She didn’t like thinking of it, and naturally she fought the thought of dying altogether. She stood before the other women knowing that when the time came, she would be willing to give up her life to potentially save the lives of the rest of the group.

  As Dana held the washcloth tight to her now swollen lip, she looked down at the floor, closed her eyes, and said a prayer for the group of women. She prayed again for the well-being of her family; and lastly, she prayed for Elena. She opened her eyes, raised her head slowly, looked at the group, and softly spoke three words.

  “I’ll die first,” Dana said without a tone of emotion in her voice.