Paradise Island: Complete Edition

by DD Cooper

  Once I was in an upright position, my hands still tied behind my back, he let me go slowly.

  “Now, if you try anything...” he started to say. “I really hope I don’t have to finish that sentence.”

  I nodded.

  “Good girl. Of course, you can scream all you want to, but we’re in the middle of nowhere so that won’t be of much use. Anywho, stay right there until I tell you you can move, okay?”

  I nodded again.

  I watched as he ascended the steps and disappeared from view. Then I heard his chilling voice tell me to do the same. I slowly walked up, careful not to fall, trying to reassure myself that he wasn’t going to kill me when I reached the top. It seemed like he had far more plans for me than that.

  Once I was up, he stood behind me and took hold of my arm, while his other hand clearly showed the knife, ready to strike at any moment. I breathed in deep and did as I was told. It seemed like we were still on the island, but maybe on the other side. There wasn’t much to see in this part except for some trees and a cottage in the woods. It looked pretty rough, but as I made my way closer, I saw that all the windows were very well secured. There would be no glass breaking and escaping from this place.

  Henry pushed me to one side and told me to hold still while he unlocked the front door, which seemed quite heavy and hard to penetrate as well.

  I looked around. It was still dark outside, though dawn didn’t seem too far away. I thought about running for my life but quickly let go of the idea. I had a feeling that I wouldn’t be the first to try, and I felt a sickening premonition of what would happen if I did. Henry running after me, catching up, and slitting my throat right then and there. Perhaps my imagination was running away from me, but it didn’t seem like an impossibility.

  Once the door was good and ready, Henry took up my arm again and pushed me inside. It was dark and sooty, but soon the lights were on and it seemed tidy enough, if overly small.

  “I’ll be with you shortly,” he said as he pushed me into a dark room with only a mattress on the floor, otherwise it was completely empty. I fell on the mattress and looked up at him. He smiled and closed the door and I was in pitch darkness. While I was afraid of a lot of things, darkness wasn’t one of them. I didn’t particularly like it, but I didn’t fear it either. But there was something different about the darkness in this room. About the mattress beneath me. There was an air of suffering and despair here that was hard to ignore. Every hair on my body stood up in alarm: this wasn’t the kind of place I wanted to be, much less die in. Time to get to work before that sick bastard came back and showed me what exactly he was made of.

  I had a powerful urge to get off the mattress, but I knew it was more practical than the cold, hard floor in the rest of the room. I stretched my legs behind my back to my hands and reached out with my hands as low as they could go. I was still a few inches from touching my boots. I breathed in and tried again and again until a terrible feeling of hopelessness overtook me and tears started to form in my eyes. I wanted to scream in frustration but knew better than to make too much noise in the presence of such a monster.

  I breathed in and exhaled all the air out and tried again, keeping as calm and collected as possible, and this time I did reach my boots. I smiled and tried again until I could hold on to them for a good amount of time. I felt my way on the right booth until I felt the zipper. I slowly unzipped it and let go only when my fingers had hold of the small blade. I wanted to celebrate, but held back my excitement. This was only part one of my escape plan. Now I needed to work on cutting myself free, which I hoped would be quicker than me getting hold of the damn knife.

  I turned the knife around in my hands carefully but it still managed to slip from my grasp. I searched frantically in the dark, touching that nasty mattress until I finally had it in my possession again. This time I made sure to hold it the right way and much tighter than before. I started to make cutting motions where the rope was. It seemed like nothing was happening, and I wanted to give up in frustration, but this was my only chance at survival, and I’d be damned if I was going to give up now. I kept cutting and cutting, until finally a thread or two gave way. This only urged me forward and I kept cutting more vigorously, hot tears streaming down my face. Finally, I had a chance to be free, and I wasn’t going to waste it. Just as I really got into the task I heard footsteps coming closer and closer.

  I immediately stopped the cutting motion and laid on my back, to hide the knife. The light was blinding as the door opened and I had to close my eyes.

  Once they adjusted to the new source of light, I opened them and saw Henry standing above me, observing me without saying anything.

  “Please, Henry, you don’t have to do this,” I pleaded with him, all the while thinking that I was so damn close to getting free from my restraints. And then the little weasel was going to get a hell of trouble.

  “Shh, Sophie. It’s better if you don’t say anything for now.”

  Henry continued to observe me and I wanted so hard to kick him in the legs and bring him down to my level, but that would only be useful if I had a knife in my free hands to use to defend myself.

  I closed my eyes again, fearing the worst, but then Henry started to speak instead. “Why are you fighting this, Sophie? Don’t you know we belong together?”

  I thought about cursing him out and calling him all the horrible things he really was, but I decided to play along instead to buy me some time. If I needed to lie through my teeth to get alive out of this, I would.

  “Henry, I knew you were different from the moment I saw you,” I said slowly, gauging his reaction. I could not see the expression on his face because of the light behind him, which turned the rest of him into a shade. I improvised, pretending that I was in a movie. I was going to play a character who was getting alive out of this. “You were different, just like me,” I said and slowly, I got up on my knees, and then on my feet. I kept my distance but I faced Henry, who was awfully quiet. “I’m going to tell you a story, Henry, one that no one else has heard. Do you want to hear it?”

  Henry nodded, the blade still in his hand. I continued to speak, as I continued to cut away at the rope that kept me incapacitated. I used my voice so that Henry would focus on my face, not on what was going on out of sight. It helped that it was mostly dark in the room.

  “There once was a girl called Sophie and she was happy. But then a man they called Crow appeared, and she was no longer happy. Her father had died when she was still a baby, so it was just her and her mother for eight years. Times were hard, but Sophie thought that she had all she needed in this world. A mother who loved her. Her books. Her friends in school. But then her mother lost her way, and a man named Crow offered to help her find her way. You see, Sophie’s mother was very sad most of the time, and the death of her husband didn’t help. She had to work two jobs to support herself and her daughter, but after years and years of this, she finally broke down. Crow offered to help. Crow was a leader and he had many followers. So Mother took Sophie to a place far away from everything she knew, all so she could follow the path Crow had laid out before her. Sophie was scared, but she didn’t realize how bad things were going to get. A change of schools and loss of familiarity were her two biggest concerns. She did not know what laid ahead, if she did, she might have spared herself the pain.

  “It was a place like no other Sophie had found herself in, and this place had a towering figure who oversaw everyone and everything. This man, Crow, took to visiting Sophie when moon overtook sun, and he did things to her that were unspeakable. This went on for years and years. Sophie’s mother was oblivious, or if she knew, she did not speak of it. For Crow was her hero, her Savior, her one and only, and he was even more precious to her than her own daughter.

  “One day, after years and years, Sophie found herself standing on a cliff, thinking about ending all the suffering she had gone through. It was the day of her mother’s funeral, and Crow had told her that he wanted her to be by his
side from now on, as his most treasured one. For Crow thought he and Sophie belonged together. As Sophie closed her eyes, ready to step off the edge, she heard the wind whispering in her ear. At first she didn’t really understand the words, but as she listened closer, the random sounds formed into a message. Would you like to know what that message was, Henry?”

  Henry nodded again, with greater enthusiasm this time. It seemed my story had done its duty. I stepped closer to him until we were only inches apart. I could hear the deep breath he took, awaiting my next move. I came closer and closer until my lips were close to his ear.

  “The wind whispered:” I whispered, and with one quick motion, as my left hand held his right, the one with the knife, I used my right hand, now equipped with a blade, and stabbed him in the neck. “NEVER AGAIN!” I screamed at the top of my lungs as I fell on top of him and kept stabbing his neck over and over again. Blood gushed out everywhere. It was on the floor, my hands, my face, his chest, his face. “NEVER AGAIN, do you hear me you sick little fuck! Never again!” I screamed over and over as tears streamed down my face, washing the blood away. “Never again will I be at the mercy of a sick fuck like you!” I said between sobs.

  Once I regained a semblance of control, I looked down on the lifeless, bloody body of Henry. I threw the knife away as far as it would go, really seeing what I had done. I screamed in horror at the bloody scene, wanting to wash the blood away. I ran from the room through the house until I reached the shore. I jumped into the water, rinsing myself clean. I scrubbed and scrubbed, until the red was no longer visible. It was only after I’d calmed down that I realized the water was ice cold. If I stayed there any longer, I would surely die. As I exited the sea, shivering, I looked up at the cottage of horrors that held a horror I made within. I slowly made my way inside, and searched for a fireplace. I found one and I went about making a fire, almost on autopilot, as I did almost every day when I lived with Lucy. I wanted to lay down and rest, but I needed to do something first. I got up reluctantly, leaving the warmth behind, and I made my way to the room where his body lay. I searched his pants and found the keys in his pocket. I closed and locked the door behind me.

  I went back to the living room and took off my wet clothes and laid them as close to the fire as possible without setting them alight. I laid down by the fire, letting its warmth soothe me as I closed my eyes. The heat of the fire dried my tears, and I let it take me away, somewhere far away, where I didn’t have to think. Where I didn’t have to exist.

  I let the warmth of the fire consume me and I welcomed the emptiness, the nothingness that followed.

  Chapter Ten

  I woke from a dreamless sleep and saw that my clothes were dry. I put them back on carefully, still aware of the blood that must have dried with them. I hoped I had gotten most of it out. As soon as I got a change of clothes I was going to destroy the ones I wore to commit the unspeakable. I did now know what had gotten into me. All of those years of pent up rage had finally found an outlet, one that had the capacity to destroy me in every way. But as I got up, the tears long dry by now, I felt a certain sense of calm wash over me. There was no stone in the pit of my stomach, for in a way I had faced my greatest fear. Did I regret snuffing out one such as Henry from this world? No. The only thing that I regretted was that I had bloodied my hands by doing so.

  I had a good idea of what would have happened had I not been able to fight back, and I felt no remorse, no sorrow for the life I had taken. I calmly walked and stood in front of the door that held my crime. The only thing I needed to figure out now would be how to get rid of the body.

  I held the key in my hand and I stood there what seemed like hours, but must have only been minutes. I stared at the door in front of me, studying its every feature as if I was a detective looking for clues to the crime. But the only clue to the crime I needed was not to be found on the door, but behind it. Slowly, deliberately, I unlocked the door. I opened it, expecting the smell of rotting flesh, but finding not much difference. It was a chilly room, meant to keep his prey locked away, not comfortable it seemed. And once he got tired of them, I’m sure he thought how more convenient it would be for the room to be cold, to keep the bodies fresh for as long as possible. I looked for a light switch by the door but there was none. So he kept them in darkness all the time, the only light the one he decided to let in. I kneeled down by the body and observed the drying bloody mess I had made of it. His eyes shocked by the turn of events, by my craftiness. Girls like me weren’t supposed to fight. Girls like me were supposed to lie down and take it. No, Henry, I am not the kind of girl you thought I was.

  I took a look around the room and devised a plan, but did not know if I should put it into motion just yet. A fire attracts attention. Even in the middle of nowhere, for doesn’t smoke rise up and up until the whole world can see it?

  I left and locked the door behind me. Henry could wait. He wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

  I decided to explore the cottage of horrors instead. A part of me wanted to run and never return, but another part of me was curious as to what I’d find.

  I entered a bedroom that I assumed to be Henry’s for when he had late nights. What I found shouldn’t have shocked me. Pictures upon pictures, all no doubt taken by Henry, decorated the walls and the ceiling. Some alive, some obviously dead. The sickening air and atmosphere of the room got the better of me. I ran as fast as I could, and didn’t stop until I was outside. I breathed in deep, wanting to retch, but there was nothing to vomit. My stomach was empty. The bright, sharp-toothed sun shone above the trees, making the whole scene even more surreal than it was. I thought I could handle Henry’s darkness, but I could not. The pictures had told me all I needed to know: Henry deserved to die, and the death he got was far more merciful than he deserved.

  I looked upon the water and saw the wooden dock that I barely noticed before. The boat was parked there, waiting. It mocked me, for I did not know how to drive the damn thing. Maybe it was time for me to give it a try. But how many girls had had their last boat ride in that very boat? How many of them woke up groggy, not knowing what was happening, and listened and waited as footsteps made their way down? How many had to look up into the smiling face of a monster without any hope for survival? I did not know, and I did not want to know. All I knew was that I needed to get as far away from this place as possible, even if it meant walking step by step until I found my way back to some semblance of a civilization.

  I went back inside the house and sat down by the burnt out fire. Then I noticed the camera sitting on a table. I took it in my arms and after figuring out how to turn it on, I looked at the screen showing all the pictures it contained. Sunsets, sunrises, me, me, me, me, me. I could not believe how many pictures of me he had on there. There were even several of me and Jack together outside his house. Inside. I dared not look any further. I knew now that Henry was obsessed with me, but to know he was a part of so many of my private moments, lurking unseen in the shadows, made my skin crawl. I threw the camera hard against the wall and watched as it broke into pieces. Then I smashed the pieces until I was sure the memory disk or whatever it was called was completely obliterated.

  I searched every nook and cranny in the house, but to no avail: I could not find any gasoline. Then I remembered the boat and I scolded myself for how stupid I was. I made my way to the little dock, which judging by its size and shape, I wouldn’t have been surprised was built by Henry himself, and unlocked the door. I looked and looked until finally I found two full canisters of gasoline. I took them one by one to the shore and after getting the second one and putting it on the ground, I was sweaty and tired. Then I looked up at the cottage ahead. I imagined it burnt to the ground.

  Then I thought of all the girls that had met their ends here. Perhaps some of them had no one to miss them, but perhaps some of them did. I thought about their families and their sorrow at not knowing what happened to their sisters and daughters. I made a third trip to the house and went back for s
omething I had already known was there. Henry’s phone. The reception was shit, but at least it was in my possession. All I had to do was walk until a signal had appeared, but I highly doubted one would. The island was well known for its shitty reception, much to the chagrin of folk like Lucy. Oh, Lucy, I hoped she was okay, but my mind could not figure out a scenario in which she got out of the explosion alive. Maybe Jack, but probably not Lucy. I tried not to think about all that and focused on the task at hand. I had a boat at my disposal.

  I looked back at the canisters of gasoline and made my decision. I could not let this place stand, and I could not bear the thought of Henry’s body being found the way it was. I opened the door to the cottage and went straight for the dark room. I unlocked the door and, and as the light behind me shone on his body, I knew I made the right decision. I doused his body liberally with the gasoline and his surroundings, including that nasty mattress. Then I moved on to the picture room. I asked for forgiveness of all the girls in those pictures, and I hoped that if they could, they would understand my actions. I could not get involved in a high profile case involving a serial killer. I came to the island to get away from my past, to hide from the man who took so much from me, and if I were to end up plastered on every newspaper and television show in England, I had no doubt he’d find me.

  I went back for the second canister and doused the rest of the house, including some of the exterior for good measure. I took the knife Jack had given me and put it into my jeans pocket after it cleaning as good as it could get. I did not want to risk Jack being tied with this. I lit a match, and threw it into the gasoline. The fiery blaze hissed almost immediately. I got as far away from the house as I could and watched as it burst into flames, seeing it burn making something in me a little bit better. I climbed onto the boat and put the key in the ignition.