He’d been talking while he pulled her along, like a dog unsure how to use its leash.
“David, no,” she yelled. “Let me go.”
“I won’t. Now shut up or I’ll use tape,” he yelled back, pulling a roll of duct tape out of his jacket pocket for emphasis.
Choices, she thought, finally understanding what she had to do. Without question, she was tired of being bullied by him and she knew she didn’t want to die, nor would she let anyone hurt her baby without using every bit of fight in her.
Stopping abruptly, she forced him to stop.
"Knock it off, Sophie, get moving.
Owww!!" he groaned, letting her go, falling to the earth. "Son-of-a-bitch!" He screamed, grabbing his knee.
She'd back kicked him in his right knee as hard as she could. Not sticking around to access the damage, she took off, running fast down the mountain. Several branches hit her in the face, but she barely noticed, the adrenaline flowing through her, keeping the pain at bay. She knew she had to be near the bottom.
"Almost there," she whispered to her baby and herself.
While she’d been running, she’d also been trying to get her hands out of the rope. She knew once she got to the bottom, she’d need them to get into her car.
“Yes,” she cheered out loud. Her car was still there and her hands were almost free. She stopped about twenty feet from her car to pull the rope the rest of the way off. Breathing hard, she turned around to see if he was close when everything went black.
#
“Where am I?” Sophie whispered, slowly opening her eyes. Darkness surrounded her. The scent of wood filled her nose. Her throbbing head felt wet and sticky. She guessed it was probably blood from where David hit her.
Gingerly, she raised it, trying to look around. A soft moan escaped her lips as she rolled onto her hands. They were tied behind her back and the pressure of her body crushed them. Quickly, she rolled onto her other side. Breathing heavily, she noticed a slit of light coming in near the floor. As she looked up, it became evident the light came from under a door. The doorknob looked familiar and she recognized the smell, too. She realized where she was.
“He’s got me in our coat closet,” she spat out angrily. It was the main floor, hall closet, to be exact. Overflowing with coats, it smelt strongly of David’s cologne.
She tried to sit up, hoping to reach the knob and turn, but her pregnant belly had other ideas.
“What am I going to do?”
She wept nervously, even as she began to loosen the ropes from her wrists. She needed a plan, a way to escape or change David’s mind. While she discarded different ideas, she continued to loosen the ropes. It was a painful process, though. The rope, as well as the wood floor, started to burn her wrists and rub them raw. It didn’t matter. Her efforts were paying off. I’ve got to hurry, she thought, ignoring the pain and focusing instead on what David said he would do to her.
Kill me. Death isn’t an option, she reasoned, concentrating instead on her daughter. She wouldn’t allow anything to happen to her.
The sudden thump, thump of someone coming down the stairs sent a shiver of terror through her body. She knew it was David.
“No,” she trembled, pulling on the ropes with even more furor.
The door opened, letting in a bright stream of light.
Squinting, she tried to see who it was, although she’d already guessed.
“I’m glad to see you’re awake,” he drawled slowly, smiling brightly. His smile quickly disappeared, though, and she wondered why. Following the direction of his gaze, she realized her efforts to get the rope off her wrists had caused her shirt to ride up and her ever more protruding belly was fully exposed.
“What’s this?” He questioned, touching her lightly, his voice changing from sardonic evil to a startled wonder. Without waiting for a response, he tenderly asked the obvious, “Are you pregnant?”
“Yes, David, I am,” she hissed, trying to sit up.
Still staring at her pregnant mound, he absently helped her. “How far along are you?”
“I’m five months along,” she responded, trying to stay calm even though she was repulsed by his touch.
“It’s mine, right? You haven’t been with Phillip yet, which means it must be mine.” He looked over at her, his face accusing. “Right?”
“It’s yours,” she stated blandly, wishing with all her heart it wasn’t.
Quickly, he asked, “Is it a boy?”
“It’s a girl, David, and I’m going to name her--”
“A girl?” he interrupted, obviously disappointed. “Well, isn’t that nice,” he continued, his voice steely and hard once again.
Startled by the change, she replied, “Yes, David, it’s a girl. Your baby girl.”
“I want a boy, not a girl. You know I want a boy, Sophie,” he said. His momentary tenderness completely vanished.
Astounded, she glared up at him. “I didn’t have a choice, David. A girl is what you and I created. A girl is what’s inside of me. Our girl. I can’t change it, nor would I want to.”
“It should’ve been a boy. If it were a boy, things might be different. I’ve got to go. I’ll be back in a while,” he said numbly as he stood and walked away.
Out of sheer human necessity, she yelled after him, “David, wait!”
He reappeared, saying gruffly, “What is it?”
“I -I need to go to the bathroom and I could use a drink of water. Please.” She didn’t want to push, but she knew if she wanted to keep her strength, she needed water.
He looked down at her as if he hadn’t heard her or he’d forgotten she was a living, breathing being.
Carefully, she tried again. “David, please. At least let me go to the bathroom.”
“I guess I don’t want you stinking up the place.” He harshly lifted her off the floor and pushed her into the guest bathroom. “Hurry up.”
“Um, David, I can’t get my pants down.”
He rapidly undid her pants, pulled them down, her underwear as well and stood back.
“Thank you, David,” she continued, sitting down.
Once she finished, he helped her get her pants back up, then put her roughly back in the closet.
“Don’t even think about trying to escape. I’ll be back in a minute,” he sneered.
True to his word, he quickly came back, and to her great relief, held a glass of water with a straw in it. He set the water down on the floor next to her. “This’ll have to do. I’ve got to leave now.” He slammed the door.
Listening to him walk away, she got on her knees to take a drink of water. After she drank it all, she started working again on removing the ropes. David hadn’t checked them, obviously shocked by the pregnancy.
It seemed to have slowed him down momentarily, but somehow she knew in her heart it wouldn’t stop him.
Maybe if I were having a boy, she thought wistfully, slipping back into her old mentality. Swiftly, though, she brushed those thoughts aside, she needed to escape and do it fast.
After what seemed like a lifetime, the ropes still didn’t seem any looser and her wrists were hurting worse and worse. She kept at it, though.
Chapter 20
Sophie was surprised when she woke up. She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep. For a brief moment, she thought she’d died because of the bright light pouring in on her.
Quickly, though, she realized the door to the closet was gone, removed completely from its hinges.
Is he letting me go, she wondered, momentarily excited.
The feeling speedily disappeared when David stepped in front of her.
“Glad you finally woke up. I don’t want you to miss any of this,” he stated, smiling brightly.
Squinting up at him, she noticed in one hand he held a brick and in the other a trowel.
“Miss any of what? David, what’re you doing?” she questioned nervously.
“Just a second. I’ll be right back,” he replied lightly, walking away.
This is it, she thought. He’s completely lost it and now I’m going to die. She heard a sloshing noise, some tapping before he stood in front of her again. Her eyes were adjusted to the light now. Seeing what he had in his hands this time sent a shiver down her spine.
“What are you going to do with those?” she asked, nodding toward the hammer and nails in his hands.
“First things first,” he squawked, setting them down.
She noticed he seemed almost robotic, unreal. His face, although cheerful, seemed empty. She couldn’t see or feel any emotion coming from him. It was as if he’d turned himself off to any feeling. He stood her up, turning her around, untying her wrists. With relief, she rubbed them; glad for the freedom he’d given her.
He picked up a wrist casually. “It looks like you’ve given yourself some sores. To bad, because this is going to hurt.”
Before she answered, he grabbed both of her wrists in one hand and proceeded to tie them up again, this time in front of her.
“Wait, David! Please! Don’t do this,” she cried. Helplessly, she watched him tie her up as tears streamed down her cheeks. She’d actually thought he would let her go.
“We’ve been over this, Sophie. You didn’t think I changed my mind, did you?” he asked, laughing mirthlessly.
Ashamed, she lowered her head, unable to believe he knew her as well as he did and hating him for treating her this way. She wanted to tear his eyes out, twist a knife deep into his heart, and bash his head to bits with a large bat. It sounded sick, but she couldn’t help it. Her hate for him boiled her blood.
Roughly, he pulled her face up, making her look at him.
Surprised, he chuckled. “Hey, I guess it’s a good thing I tied you up. You look ready to kill me. I had no idea you had such fire in you.”
She stood there, steaming.
There’s got to be something I can do, she thought.
David continued, “I’ll tell you, the pregnancy threw me. I had no idea.” He stopped a moment, pushing her back farther into the closet, whispering with a tenderness that would’ve sounded sincere if she hadn’t been able to see his cruel, twisted face.
“Now, I want you to lie on your back for me.”
“No, David, I won’t,” she yelled, allowing some of her anger to escape.
“Either you do it of I’ll make you do it,” he replied coldly.
Full of fury, she spit in his face.
His mouth opened in shock, as if he couldn’t believe she’d had the gall.
“Bitch,” he yelled.
She regretted what she'd done immediately. He grabbed her by the neck, slamming her down on her back. She literally saw stars from the force of the blow. Her throat throbbed where he’d grabbed her neck.
“I can’t breathe.” She gasped.
“Like I care,” he responded calmly, once again in control of his emotions. “Now hold still or one of these nails might be hammered into your body.”
Ferociously, he nailed her shirt into the wood floor. When he was finished, he looked directly into her frightened eyes and whispered, “These are because I don’t want you getting away.”
“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with.” She sobbed hysterically, her voice coming back a little, but still raspy.
“Absolutely not. You’ve made me suffer these past several months and I intend to return the favor,” he declared, chuckling, before he went on, the cold, unfeeling stare back in his eyes. “You see, I have a plan for you.”
“A plan?” She gasped.
“Of course,” he replied, sitting in front of her. Crossing his legs, he rested an elbow on his leg and his chin on a fist. “Want to hear about it?” he asked, gushing like a child ready to tell an amazing story. When she didn’t answer, he went on, “You know, I’ve thought a lot about what I want to do to you.” He halted a moment, as if waiting for a response.
When she didn’t say anything, he continued, “Torturing you was my first idea. I thought it seemed fitting, with all of the pain you’ve caused me.” He leaned his head and an arm out of sight for a minute. When they were back in her view, she was horrified to behold a large butcher knife in his hand. “As you know, I have a knack for one of these.”
He held it up in the light for her to see. “I can cut through almost anything with it. Chicken, lamb, or even you.” Lingering over his words, he regarded her a moment, gauging her reaction. He touched the blade to her leg.
She yelped. “No.”
He smiled. “I was thinking I’d start with your ears and eyes, followed by your scalp.” As he spoke, he touched the knife to each area, causing Sophie’s limbs to quake. “Then, I’d slowly work my way down and up, cutting off your hands, your arms. Your feet and thighs.” He touched the sharp edge to her cheek. “Get the point.” He laughed, like he’d told a cruel, dirty joke; full of emptiness, but forced and loud. When he noticed she wasn’t laughing with him, he stopped, looking intently at her. “Are you still with me?”
The scream came out of its own accord. She hadn’t meant to do it. Inside, though, she seethed, a combination of terror and rage boiling up inside of her. Her heart raced rapidly. Her pulse quickened. It seemed her hearing became sharper. Her eyes clearer, and even her pain more excruciating.
He responded swiftly, pulling duct tape out of nowhere, ripping off a piece and placing it firmly over her mouth. He didn’t even seem bothered by her outbreak. He looked, in fact, like he relished it. “Can’t have the neighbors hearing us, now can we?” He smacked off. Then he sat back down again. “Now where was I? Oh, right,” he answered for himself, picking the butcher knife back up, spinning it deftly on his pointer finger.
“I had it all planned out, but you surprised me with the bump on your belly.” He’d stopped twirling the knife on his finger and pointed it at her instead, like a father scolding his child. “I have no desire to torture our baby, even if I don’t want her. Instead, I’ve come up with another plan. One, I think, which is even more fitting.” Pausing, he looked away, as though he were deciding how much he wanted to tell her.
After a few moments, he looked back at her.
“Did I ever tell you I had a sister?”
She could only stare.
It seemed he wasn’t expecting a response because he went on, “I did. Her name was Hazel and she was beautiful. She was three years younger than I and had such spirit, such joy. Even with all of the evil and hate that prevailed in our house, she never let it get her down for long. She kept me from going insane.” He stopped again, seemingly lost in childhood memories.
Sophie’s mind caught hold of the name. Hazel. Where had she heard the name before? It wouldn’t come to her. His sister hadn't kept him from insanity or premeditated murder. She also realized this was the first time he’d shared a memory of his family with her and wondered, absently, why he told her now.
“She was only here six months when she died in a car crash.”
Sophie was startled by what he said.
How awful for her, she thought. Her head was still spinning, trying to put together the pieces. Hazel, and a car accident, she thought. This seems familiar.
“The thing is, she didn’t die immediately. You see, I’d just bought her a new car and she wanted me to go for a drive with her. I was apprehensive because it had been raining hard all day, but she talked me into it. When the other car struck us, I was thrown from the vehicle. My sister, however, was caught behind the wheel. While the paramedics and the police were waiting for the Jaws of Life to get on the scene, the car exploded and she burned alive inside.” He stopped again, obviously experiencing the pain of the memory, before he went on, “Sophie, she was trapped inside the car. Understand?”
She would’ve shrugged she had no idea, but couldn’t. She sensed he blamed her for his sister's death. Was she to blame? She would’ve questioned him further; she had a feeling she should know what he meant, but realized it didn’t matter. He was gone, lost in his own thoughts.
Rat
her than saying anything, she stared at him through her tears, watching his sick, twisted face contort with pain or pleasure at whatever feelings were going on inside his head.
“Well, let me show you,” he gushed excitedly, getting up and walking away. When he came back, he no longer had the knife, but held a brick. “What I’m going to do instead is brick you into this little closet. Trap you inside, like my sister was trapped.” He hunched down close to her, letting her get a good look at the brick before he continued, “As you know, the way this wall is situated under the stairs, I can easily do it and no one will ever know.”
She tried to shrink away from him, the evil emanating from him cutting into her.
“After a while, I’m sure the stink of you might offend someone, but since no one knows I’m here and no one knows you’re here, it’ll be a good long while.”
The horror of his words engulfed her. She would be left here to die. It wouldn’t be a quick death, but a long, slow death over many days. And the thought of her baby suffering, starving to death inside of her, it was almost too much for her to bear. She had to get out of there.
If I try to escape, maybe he’ll kill me quickly.
Without preamble, she started to kick her feet, shake her head and body. Her shirt ripped in several different places, giving her the encouragement she needed to continue.
“Stop it now, Sophie, or I’ll crush her,” he hollered, placing a booted foot on her pregnant belly, pressing down.
Immediately, she stopped. She couldn’t allow him to hurt her unborn child.
She shook her head no. She started to feel a little lightheaded.
In his revoltingly calm voice, he asked, pulling the knife out of his back pocket, “You don’t want to be tortured with this, do you?”
She shook her head no again.
“All right then,” he continued, taking his foot off her belly. “Hold still and keep your whoring mouth shut. I’ll get to work making your tomb so I can get on with my life.” He paused, tenderly looking into her eyes. "You know, it’ll be nice to know you’re here, safe and sound, in our house with our baby. This way, you’ll always be mine.”
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