Winter's Fury - Volume Two of The Saga of the Twelves

by Richard M. Heredia

  Finally, last night, when he had brought them what they assumed was their evening meal. Christina demanded he bring them toiletries. She had yelled for something, anything, so they could clean themselves. They were in dire need of washcloths, toothbrushes… toilet paper.

  He had turned away and said, “Eat.”

  When Christina stepped toward him, yelling, fiercely imploring he pay attention, he had rounded on her. His face had frozen for the first time. Every time either of them had laid eyes upon his ghastly visage, it had been in a constant state of flux.

  Not this time.

  The fifteen-year-old had stared up into eyes that did not match. Its' features were half-made from female into male as if he burned from one gender to another. His hair had been no more than stubble. His ears became unformed holes gaping at either side of his head.

  Through one delicate and one harsh lip he had said: “Learn you place, little plaything. You will not last long in the midst of the Seeker. If you do not, and soon… you will perish.”

  The words had been a warning, but his expression spelled nothing but murder. Christina had scurried back toward Marissa. She shielded the smaller female with her body, fearful the terrible man would charge them both.

  In the end, he did not. He just stood there, glowering, towering over them like they were so many insects. He kicked a soiled bag of something at them, spun upon his heel and left.

  Now, as the thick door opened, the Man-with-the-Melting-Face appeared again. He used his shoulder to make headway. His hands full with an all-too-familiar bundle and yet another sack of “food” cinched in the crook of his elbow. He put his substantial weight onto the barrier to accommodate his massive frame, forcing it wider. As usual, whatever he wore it remained concealed beneath his massive robe covering him from neck to toe. Only the front of his rugged boots stuck out beneath the garment’s hem. He had pulled back the hood and cowl. It had bunched along the line of his mantle, his eyes narrowing as his gaze fell upon the two recoiling females.

  His ever-fluctuating orbs settled upon Christina. “I have spoken to the Seeker of the supplies you say you must have and she agrees. You need to maintain a degree of cleanliness or you otherwise might spoil.” He chuckled with wicked glee at the thought of the young girls before him withering upon the vine. Because they couldn’t keep their private parts clean of their own excretions. The situation was ridiculous. To him, humans were so primitive.

  Christina wilted before each word. She huddled against the smaller form of Marissa, trying to get away from the creature’s horrid voice. She had not missed the sexual undertone, and it sickened her to the point of vomiting.

  He chortled for a few more seconds. “As you can see, I have brought another of the Lesser.” He bent to place the bundle upon the floor.

  Marissa realized it was much smaller than the one comprising Christina. Whoever this was, he or she was young.

  “Teach her what you have learned. Explain that she must eat or I will force it upon her. Make sure she understands her importance in the eyes of the Seeker. In this you cannot fail. Or, I will pull the skin from your hides to make sure you do. Is that understood?”

  It was the most he had said to them at one time. Both girls felt overwhelmed by the sheer amount of syllables tumbling forth. It was all the more difficult because the continuous flow of harm they conveyed.

  “Here are the provisions necessary to keep your tiny bodies clean.” His glare was somehow lecherous. He tossed the over-sized sack between the young women and the girl wrapped up in the many-patched quilt. His face was that of a Scandinavian supermodel. Seeing a male expression exude forth from it was as confounding as it was nauseating. “Make sure you eat. Make sure you stay fresh. The Seeker needs you to be as hale as possible for the Rite.” He made for the door, pausing there to look back at them. “Primitive,” he said, his face male once again – African, age-old. He was bald.

  Then, he was gone.

  Marissa moved first.

  Christina was too overwrought. All she could manage was to sit side-saddle-like upon the floor. She supported her weight on the palms of her hands, her eyes peering at the unyielding floor before her.

  The smaller girl crab-walked over to the bundle on the floor. She hesitated for a moment as she tried to discern the “head” from the “foot”. Then she placed her hands upon the blanket and pulled it aside. Her eyes widened when she saw the long, straight hair complete with the bangs. The familiar part down the middle was there as well. And, so were the deep brown orbs, the round face and puffy cheeks – the features of her long-time friend Alicia Provencio.

  She was a neighborhood girl, like Elena and Mikalah, who she had known since Kindergarten. And now, she too was here with them, trapped in the same long-lost bomb shelter alongside her.

  Her sharp intake of breath brought Christina scrambling forth. “Is she ok?” she asked, tentative, uncertain of what she would see, trepidatious of the result.

  “She’s fine,” replied Marissa, pulling more of the coverlet from her friend. “I know her.”

  Christina’s hand came to her mouth without thought. “What are the odds…?”

  “I don’t think this has anything to do with chance,” mumbled the younger girl, her face pained.

  The teen’s face bunched in question. She turned her head toward Marissa, but stayed silent as the other continued to speak.

  “She isn’t the first of my friends that this happened to.”

  The admission stunned Christina back onto her haunches.

  Marissa’s tiny face swiveled toward her. “Isn’t the same true for you?”

  The older girls’ eyes danced about as the thought sunk in, as she began to relive the events of the past week. She thought of the shopping she had done with her mother over the previous weekend. She recalled the final three days of school, helping around the house in preparation for Thanksgiving. Then... the Event had occurred.

  Anthony! Her eyes bulged out of her head. She had known someone who was in the same situation as she! Just like Marissa had suggested!

  Her eyes found those of her fellow prison-mate. “How did you know?”

  A hard smile crept across the nine-year-olds’ face. “Seeing Alicia here, with us, was all I needed. After my friends, Elena and Mikalah, were taken, and then me, and now her – it’s all pretty simple. We all live a few blocks from each other. We’ve all been friends since we started school…”

  “Wait. Do your friends Elena and Mikalah have a brother named Anthony?” Christina felt pure dread leech upon her soul when the young girl nodded in affirmation. “Oh my god…”

  Below them, Alicia began to stir; her head lolling from side to side as consciousness began to return to her.

  “Whatever’s going on it’s not over, not by a long shot.”

  The older female scooted closer. “How do you know?”

  “I have a lot of friends…”

  “But, you don’t think -?” began Christina, but never got the chance to finish.

  From the ground, Alicia screamed. She brought her arms up to protect herself, using the heels of her shoes to skid away from the two others. “Stay away from me!” she yelled, digging her feet into the ground as hard as she could. Its inflexible hardness wore away at the rubber of her sneakers, leaving long streaks in her wake.

  “Alicia, stop! It’s me, Alicia! It’s Marissa!”

  The stocky girl continued to squirm away on her back, edging further and further from them.

  Christina stood, her hands before her, palms facing the cold, timeless concrete of the bomb shelter. “We’re not going to hurt you, little girl. We were brought here just like you. We’re all in this together.”

  “Stay back. Stay away. Don’t come near me,” mewled Alicia, her body shaking with revulsion.

  It was obvious to the two others. Confinement by the Man-with-the-Ever-Changing-Face had unnerved her to the point of hysteria.

  Marissa put a placating arm across Christina’s mid-s
ection.

  They exchanged a look.

  “We should leave her alone,” explained the nine-year-old. “Let’s give her some time to get control of herself.”

  The teenager gazed back at her for a few moments, then shrugged.

  They stood there, fiddling with their hands for a few more seconds. Then Christina lit up, her expression exploding with excitement when she laid eyes upon it.

  “The bag!” she shouted.

  It was Marissa’s turn to frown.

  The older girl spun on her heel and made her way to the over-sized sack the Changing Man had brought along with Alicia.

  Then Marissa understood. The bag! she thought, scurrying after. She came up to the fifteen-year-old just as the other pulled forth a twin-pack of toothpaste and a stick of feminine deodorant.

  “Yes!” exclaimed Christina. She squatted at once, placing the items on the ground while she rummaged through the bag with vigorous movements. “Toothbrushes!” she gushed a second later. “Oh my, towels, bottled water – I need this so bad.” She tore at the packaging containing the toothbrushes. Then she ripped open the toothpaste box and applied a copious amount to the brush. She uncapped one of the large, thirty-two ounce bottles of water, pouring a tiny stream onto the bristles. An instant later, she was brushing her teeth. She was so happy there were tears running down her face.

  Still upon the floor, Marissa continued to pull forth items from the sack. It was pleasing to find they now had everything they would need to keep themselves clean.

  And, their kidnapper had brought real food this time, nourishing and fulfilling. She felt tears of her own began to fall. She placed the cold cuts, the cheeses and the long loaves of Italian bread wrapped in wax paper upon the floor. She would have used brain-surgeon-like care if she had not seen something else within. They fell to the floor when her hand came about a two-liter jug of Coke. She knew the sugary goodness would be like wine from heaven going down her throat. She wasted no time and uncapped the bottle, taking huge gulps of what had to be the best tasting substance on Earth. She did not even care when some spilled from the corners of her mouth, swilling upon her t-shirt, staining it for all time.

  Along the wall of the tunnel-like structure, Alicia’s mutterings continued. Even after the other girls had freshened up and consumed their first healthy meal in days. Alicia’s murmurs went on unabated.

  Alicia was not built in the same fashion as Marissa. She had always been a much gentler child, kindhearted and meek. She carried none of the other girls’ rambunctious approach to life or her outgoing nature. She preferring to stay in the background, to let the other kids explore while she watched.

  Alicia was nothing like Marissa.

  Her mindless droning continued for a long, long time.

  ~~~~~~~<<< ᴥ >>>~~~~~~~

  ~ Interlude ~

  A Continuous Event

  Sunday, November 28th, Within Minutes…

  I wonder if she found out anything new, thought Juanita Papilon as she came from the shower. She had a towel wrapped around her body, rubbing with half a mind at the remaining moisture from her hair with another. She had awakened late. Her head pounded after yet another Saturday night out with friends. Although this time, she had not gone to the party with her usual “road dogs”.

  Vanessa had stayed the night with Lynn instead of going to the party their friend Luke was throwing to celebrate his birthday.

  Juanita had been too worked-up to hang-out with them. She had cringed at the thought of nestling in Lynn’s bedroom trying to dig up scraps of information on Andrew Ibarra.

  Lynn had been crushing on him for more than half a year now and still hadn't jumped his bones.

  She could not sit by and watch them obsess over the dude. She knew inside, it was a futile act. The government had placed a strangle-hold on all news related to the abductions. Moreso now that they had continued to occur all over this side of town. It did not matter that Lynn’s aunt Denise worked for the police or the 911 Emergency Dispatch Center even. She would be just as tight-lipped as everyone else investigating the Event. They had likely entangled her in so many confidentiality agreements crucifixion would be in order if she dared to fart sideways. Sure, her aunt was nice enough to agree to meet with Lynn at her house, but she would not say much. She could not.

  There was no use.

  Juanita, or J.J. (as she preferred) was not one to sit around. She needed to be out. She needed to interact, to mingle, to dance, especially with all the bullshit of the past few days. She needed release, respite from the tension, the bad vibes. Or whatever the hell it was she felt crawling down her spine every time she thought about all those kids taken against their will. The thought of some old, horny dude feeling her up made the muscles in her jaw clench. The idea sent the heebie-jeebies coursing through her like she had tasted something bitter.

  Fucking gross!

  Still though, in the back of her mind, she wondered what the Lynn’s aunt had told Lynn and Vanessa. Maybe she shouldn't have gone out with the rest of the Franklin High School Party People. Maybe Denise had been circumspect, vague like in the movies. Maybe she had strung together clues of what the government knew on their own without her having comprised her vows of secrecy. Maybe they had found something out after all. Maybe they were insane with dire news. Oh god! she thought of a sudden. What if they got proof someone had hurt Andrew? Or killed him? Oh, poor, Lynn.

  She walked to her bed, tossing a towel upon it satisfied with the dryness of her hair. She bent, retrieving her panties and, with a well-practiced hand, put them on one leg at a time. She unraveled the other towel from around her body. She twisted to look into the full-body, wall-mounted mirror toward her left. Her eyes darted over her Philippine features. She lingered over her light brown irises, above her broad nose and well-spaced cheekbones leading to a full jaw. She liked the characteristic. It was distinct for a young woman.

  Her skin was burnished-brown throughout the year, except when her and her family went camping in the summer. Then, it turned near-black. She had dyed her hair bronze a few weeks prior, its’ shade complemented her complexion well she thought. She wore it parted down the middle, flared at the sides and curled outward at the bottom.

  Thoughts of Andrew forgotten, she turned. She gazed again at her reflection in the mirror, admiring her curves. The flare of her hips matched the width of her shoulders to perfection. Her breasts were firm and large, but not overly so. Though she did nothing to maintain her body – its’ tone or perkiness – she had a flawless figure. She allowed a small smile, continuing to turn, weight on her back foot, the other with toes pointed at the carpet.

  “You still got it, girl,” she muttered to herself, turning back toward the bed to gather the clothes she had laid out. She had already decided. She was going to walk over to Lynn’s house to see if her friend had made any progress in her quest to find out what had happened to Andrew.

  Andrew, she thought. He’s nice enough, just not for me. Still, I hope nothing bad happened to him.

  J.J. liked her boyfriend’s built, good looking and a little dumb. That way she could control them without them realizing she was doing so in the first place. Andrew was good looking enough. He was handsome in a boyish sort of manner. As far as she was concerned, he was just too skinny, too much arms and legs. Maybe he would grow into his body one day. Maybe then he should hit her up, if he was not still with Lynn.

  Yeah, if he filled out, then he’d be my kind of guy, she said to herself. Aloud, she said, “Yeah, fat chance,” as she pulled a loose-fitting, knit blouse over her head. She knew damn well if Lynn got her claws into the dude, he would never leave until she finished with him. Lynn might have a few too many pimples, but she was tall with beautiful blond hair and a megalithic set of tits. Andrew would be in heaven. He wouldn’t have eyes for any other girl in like decades.

  Besides, Lynn was kind-hearted, somewhat of a prankster once you get to know her. But still, she would have Andrew besotted within an hour of t
elling him she liked him. J.J. knew this like she knew the back of her hand. Lynn had the best of both worlds – a rockin’ body and a good personality.

  She wiggled into her jeans, peering about for her socks. She was going to wear comfortable shoes if she was going to walk the nine blocks to Lynn’s house on Baltimore Street.

  She thought she had left them on the bed with the rest of her clothes, but now she could not find them. She frowned as she finished buttoning, glancing about. She made a full turn. She saw her slip-on, blue and white-colored Nikes lying near her desk across from the bed. They were exactly where she had kicked them off days ago. She had not recalled doing so. She stepped to them, walking on her toes – something she tended to do when barefoot and striding over carpet.

  She was halfway when she saw one of the cotton athletic socks lying on the floor, near the threshold of the bathroom.

  “What the heck?” she asked herself. How in the hell did it get over there? And how come I didn’t see it when I came out of the bathroom?

  She clicked the roof her mouth, aggravated, ambling, her jaw set. She stooped to scoop it up, but froze in place when her eyes caught sight of the boot next to it. The shoe was no more than two feet away, resting on the molding that covered the transition from her bedroom to the bathroom. With her hand extended, she trained her eyes upward, seeing the hem of what appeared to be a black robe. She craned further upward, methodical, following the thick fabric. It seemed to go up for miles.

  Then, she saw its’ face. And, right before her eyes, it melted.

  She tried to scream, but the blood-curdling sound never left her mouth. It remained stuck deep in her throat.

  Something noxious struck her in face, smelling worse than a used pair of underwear. She blinked and sputtered, moving back. But her feet tangled beneath her and she flopped hard on her backside, her teeth chattered, jarring her senseless. Through the gray-green fog enveloping her, she saw the thing in the black robe saunter toward her, blotting out her vision. It was huge.