by Scott Young
She suddenly felt slightly drunk and tried to remember the number of cocktails she’d had at dinner. The number wasn’t forthcoming. Her brain seemed to be malfunctioning and her limbs now felt like overdone spaghetti. She tried to sit up, but her muscles weren’t responding. She felt her heart beating rapidly.
“Oh, it’s going to be very special, Linda,” Joshua said, his voice suddenly cold. “Perhaps the most special night I’ve ever had.” He took the glass from her hand just before she dropped it.
Jessica’s mouth felt dry, but she was unbelievably thirsty. She tried to clear her head, but it was as if a swarm of bees had taken residence there. She licked her lips repeatedly and struggled to focus her thoughts. Wait a minute! He called me Linda! she thought right before everything went black.
She awoke with a jolt, turning her head from the smelling salts Joshua was waving under her nose. He was standing over her with a Cheshire cat smile on his face. All the warmth had left his eyes. Now, they were pools of steely blue liquid, devoid of human emotion.
“What the fuck! Jesus! What’s going on? Did you roofie me, you sick bastard?” She wasn’t sure if any word other than “fuck” came out recognizable at all. Drool spilled out of her mouth as she lay there, slack jawed.
“Now, now, Linda,” Joshua said casually. “If you can’t control yourself, I’ll be forced to gag you. Be a good girl, and we can converse like civilized people.”
He definitely called me Linda again, she thought. Somehow Joshua knew her real name, but what else did he know? Did he know about the grift? About Myles? Her stomach lurched at the prospect.
As Joshua moved away from her, she could see he had a half-filled brandy snifter in his right hand. He swirled the amber liquid inside the glass as he walked back and forth. When he noticed her staring at it, he said, “You really should have had the Cognac, my dear. It makes this moment even more delicious.”
“What did you give me?” she muttered, her voice like a sandpaper whisper. She tried swallowing, but her throat felt raw and swollen.
“Just something to make you more, shall we say, agreeable.”
“Why?” she said quietly, managing to enunciate the word properly.
Joshua used his feet to guide the ottoman gently from an antique chair across the room. When he’d maneuvered it three feet away from the sofa, he sat facing her.
“Why?” he repeated in an almost jovial manner. “I’m sure it wouldn’t surprise you to know that’s the question I hear most often. It never ceases to amuse me. The capacity of the human mind to ignore the very reality facing it, all the while attempting to decipher its causality. It’s really quite absurd.” As he spoke, his cold eyes surveyed her body from head to toe, making Linda feel naked and exposed. Finally, he locked his gaze on her again and said, “However, you deserve a response, my dear. In terms you can understand, the answer is...because I can.”
Joshua walked to the mantle and placed the snifter next to his “Seattle Humanitarian of the Year” award. He picked up a remote control device and made his way back to the couch.
“I think you’re really going to like this,” Joshua said. “Let’s get comfortable and enjoy the show.”
He lifted her legs up and sat on the couch before lowering them so that her feet were on his lap. He hit the remote control and a sliding panel in the wall revealed a big-screen television as the lights automatically dimmed. The set’s soft, blue light bathed the room. Joshua took off Linda’s shoes and began rubbing her feet, as if they were a long-time couple settling in to watch a movie on a Friday night. Even though his touch now made her skin crawl, she was incapable of stopping him.
“Pay attention, darling,” he said. “You know how I hate to rewind when you miss something.”
As the first image appeared on the screen, Linda’s blood ran cold. It was her high school yearbook picture. Her mind reeled. The next image was her graduation day. Then a shot of her standing by her new car at age 20. How did he get these? A series of pictures from spring break, various parties, holidays and other get-togethers. Joshua said, matter-of-factly, “Isn’t it awful when someone pries into your affairs? Invades your privacy? That kind of thing is the ultimate betrayal, wouldn’t you say?”
A newspaper article about the car accident that killed her mother flickered onto the screen. Joshua gently rubbed Linda’s calf as if to offer condolences. “She was so young,” he said with false sincerity. “Only 53. A tragedy really.”
Finally, on the screen appeared a slideshow of pictures featuring her and Myles on their wedding day. Linda felt light-headed, and her heart beat so fast that she feared it would burst from her chest like the creature from Alien. She desperately tried to look at Joshua, but she still didn’t have full control of her body from whatever he’d slipped in her wine.
“We’re coming up to the good part,” he whispered as he once again began to massage her feet.
On the television screen, a video feed appeared. It was a clear picture of the entrance to Joshua’s house. Linda could see the marble steps and mahogany door she’d entered barely a half hour ago. Had it only been that long? Suddenly, Myles entered the frame. Was this live? Had Myles come back? Should she yell out to him?
From the video, she heard the song “Brown Eyed Girl” by Van Morrison. It was the ring tone Myles had assigned to her in his phone. Myles reached into his pocket and took out his cell phone. She saw him smile broadly before answering with “Yeah, who is it?” Linda instantly realized she was reliving their conversation from earlier that evening, but this time from Myles’s point of view. She tried not to think about the implication of such a thing.
Just after Myles hung up on the video, Joshua paused the playback. He leaned over and, with a hint of menace in his voice, said, “Just FYI, my assistant is allergic to flowers. I’d go with a nice edible arrangement for her birthday.” Joshua leaned back with a small chuckle and restarted the feed.
Linda watched as Myles made his way into the house after entering the code into the mailbox keypad. Suddenly, the camera view changed to the very room Linda and Joshua were sitting in. Myles quickly but cautiously made his way to the bookcases, sliding the last bookcase to reveal the hidden door. After a quick check of his notes, he inputted the five-digit code for the wine closet entrance. Linda expected to see Myles fail to gain access to the wine closet, thanks to the biometric sensor neither one of them knew existed. However, much to her shock, Myles opened the door easily. She watched with horror as he disappeared inside. Her mind couldn’t comprehend what it just saw. If Myles got into the wine closet, where...?
Joshua paused the video feed again. “Now it’s getting exciting, isn’t it? I bet you can’t look away. Unfortunately, from here on in, we don’t have an audio feed, but I think it’s still compelling footage. Let’s watch, shall we?” He restarted the video.
The video changed views again. This was a room Linda had never seen before, but it wasn’t hard to tell it was the interior of the wine closet. Myles absentmindedly looked over the various bottles before putting down his bag and taking out a few tools, a portable laptop and his notes. Inside her head, Linda was pleading for him to get out of there, impotent to help her love.
Then she saw him react to something behind him. He raced across the room a moment too late. The wine closet door had sealed. Myles futilely pounded on the door in silent rage on the video, but Linda could lip read the obscenities he screamed as he tried to open it. Again, her mind reeled with questions. Why did the door close? Is he still in there? What happened to him?
On the video, Myles finally calmed himself and studied the door for a moment. He then went back to his bag, searching for a specific tool. Linda’s dread grew with each passing second. Suddenly, Myles stood up and began looking around the room frantically, pulling his shirt over his nose and mouth. He noticed a vent on the ceiling out of reach as his legs started to buckle. He tried to steady himself against the far wall of the closet, but it was a losing battle. Linda felt her heart
sink as she watched the love of her life slide down the wall and collapse into a heap. Was he dead? Good God, did this bastard poison him in there?
“The rest of the video is rather boring unfortunately,” Joshua said, clicking off the television. As the lights in the room slowly grew brighter, he removed Linda’s feet from his lap and stood up again. “It’s a security feature of my own design, used exclusively in this house. Rather clever, wouldn’t you say? The code allows access to the closet, but without the biometric analysis, the room seals itself after 30 seconds. Then, an analgesic gas sedates whoever is unlucky enough to still be inside.”
Linda felt a rush of relief as she realized Myles hadn’t perished inside the closet; he was merely sedated. She suddenly felt like there was a chance of them escaping, of leaving this house and forgetting everything about Joshua Constantine. Linda noticed that Joshua had left the wine closet door open for the entire video. With any luck, Myles would regain consciousness soon. Then you’ll get yours, you pompous asshole! She gained courage from that delicious thought.
“I would’ve made another fortune manufacturing the design if it wasn’t for bleeding heart liberals calling the gas a ‘cruel and unusual’ security measure. Can you imagine?” Joshua said with disgust as he paced in front of her. He locked his menacing gaze on Linda again as he continued, “Doesn’t a man have a right to defend what’s his from lowlife scum and petty con artists?”
Joshua’s rage seemed to have reached a boiling point. Linda recognized the signs from years of dealing with her own abusive father. She feared Constantine might do something rash so she quietly said “I’m sorry, Joshua. Truly and deeply sorry.” She hoped her mea culpa would diffuse his anger.
Joshua instantly raced to the couch and sat on the ottoman again, this time with his face barely an inch from hers. Small droplets of spittle rained across the bridge of Linda’s nose as he screamed, “Sorry? You’re sorry! Don’t you dare apologize!”
Joshua turned away, rubbing his hands over his face and through his golden hair repeatedly. When he finally regained his composure, he spoke in a quiet, controlled tone.
“I had such high hopes for you at first. I thought you might be the one woman who could be my equal, who could challenge me and accompany me to greater heights. I’ve been looking for so long, so very long.” Joshua looked past her as if searching for something on a distant horizon. His eyes glazed over, and his demeanor turned to that of a wistful child dreaming of a faraway land. “I don’t think it’s too much to ask. All I’ve ever wanted was someone to whom I can give all my attention, to whom I can show my special love. No one ever lives up to my expectations. Why can’t I find her? Why?”
Joshua was close to tears and, for a brief second, he looked like a man who’d lost his only friend. Linda felt a pang of sympathy for him. But then, his eyes went dark, and his face twisted into a mask of pure hatred. It reminded Linda of The Incredible Hulk, when the comic book character lost all control.
“I genuinely hoped you were special, Linda.” He spit the words out like they were poison pellets in his mouth. “But there’s nothing special about you is there, Linda? Linda. Linda. A common name for a very common woman.”
Joshua stood, and Linda was sure he was going to beat her to death right there in his immaculately decorated living room. She strained to raise her head, trying to look at him, but she was still not in control of her body. As she struggled, she heard a bemused sigh escape Joshua’s lips.
He reached down, grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her hard on the mouth. “Not to worry, my pet. Despite your rather jejune nature, you still deserve at least some of my singular attention.”
Joshua walked back into the wine closet, leaving Linda immobile on the couch. She prided herself on being a survivor, but she couldn’t see any way out of this nightmare. She was completely at his mercy and it was obvious Constantine was about as stable as a house of cards during an earthquake. Her only chance was to keep him talking until the drug wore off enough for her to put up a fight or until Myles could offer some assistance.
When he returned, Joshua was wearing surgical gloves and tinted goggles. That’s not a good sign, she immediately thought. He helped Linda to her feet and put her left arm around his neck while putting his right arm around her waist. Linda’s head rested on his shoulder, and he positioned her head to look straight ahead as they moved forward. “Come now, my dear. You can’t be late for the party,” Joshua said without a hint of emotion.
Linda could feel her feet dragging behind as he carried her into the wine closet. The first thing she saw was the vault door. It was wide open. She could smell the faint remnant of whatever gas Joshua had used on Myles. It reminded her of the dentist office after her root canal. Myles was nowhere to be found, at least not in her immediate field of vision. A mixture of anxiety and confusion swept over her. Damn it, she thought. Why all these games? Where the fuck is Myles?
As they entered the stygian darkness of the vault, Linda felt her feet drag across an obstruction on the floor. Joshua led her to the far end of the enclosure before turning her around to face the entrance again. It was cold, and she could feel the air quality diminish; the vault had all the ambience of a mausoleum. She feared that was how he intended to use it: as her final resting place.
“Lights,” Joshua said, and a bank of high intensity lights flashed on, blinding Linda. Whatever drug was in her system made it impossible to close her eyes fast enough, so she was forced to wait until her vision cleared. As it did, she could make out a large shape on the floor directly in front of her. At first, she though it was a chaise longue like the one she’d had in her backyard growing up. Was it a pile of clothes? A duffle bag? She forced herself to blink, and finally she started to make out recognizable forms.
“My God! Myles!” Linda screamed as she was finally able to see her husband’s limp body lying before her. He was on his back with all four extremities splayed out around him. Myles’s eyes were wide open with his mouth agape. Then she saw it. His neck was at a grotesque ninety-degree angle. It was broken. He was dead. Myles was gone.
“No, no, no, no,” Linda muttered over and over as her eyes filled with tears, her head spinning from the realization that Joshua had killed her husband.
A wave of adrenaline hit her, and she was able to push away from her demented host. It took all her strength, but she fell with a “thud,” unable to break her fall. Linda had landed directly on top of Myles, and her face was less than a foot from his tormented visage. His dead eyes looked at her without any of the love they once shared. She felt weak all over, and light flickered about her eyes as she struggled to understand what was happening. Finally, overcome with emotion, she lost consciousness.
Linda awoke with a start as Joshua again used smelling salts to expedite her return to consciousness. “Welcome back, dear. I hope you like your new accommodations,” he said. He waved his arms to show off the surroundings. As Linda regained her bearings, she soon realized she’d entered an entirely new level of hell.
Linda was in a room she’d never seen before, strapped to a chair at her wrists and waist. Despite her severely limited motor functions and blurry vision, Linda could see all of the incredibly bizarre scene unfolding before her from where she was sitting. The room was enormous and decorated in a fashion befitting a cotillion or some sort of insane masquerade ball. A hardwood dance floor was surrounded by 7 oval-shaped dining tables replete with fine linens and ornate centerpieces. The simple white of the tablecloths and napkins were counterbalanced by large, festive tapestries and huge floral arrangements festooning three walls. The fourth wall, directly opposite the tables, had a seventy-two-inch flat-screen television playing the local news channel with the sound muted. Underneath the TV was a modest, black entertainment center, filled with a vast collection of DVDs.
At each table sat an odd mannequin of some kind, looking more like the doll from Lars and the Real Girl than any department store dummy. The “girls” were unique with
their own hair colors and styles, ethnicity and body types, each adorned in an individual ball gown. Linda was situated at the seventh and final table, nearest to the door. The room had no visible windows. Linda assumed she was in a sub-basement or bomb shelter. The entire scene was so surreal, Linda couldn’t help but wonder if it was all just a bad dream after too much Thai food. Then she remembered Myles’ empty face in the vault, and knew it was all too real. She was in the clutches of a murderous lunatic with a major grudge against her. She began to scan the room for a weapon in case she ever got free. Just then, Joshua stepped into her line of sight and squeezed her face hard with his hand.
“Now, now. I think introductions are in order, don’t you? We must always remember our manners,” he said, retreating to the center of the room. “From left to right, we have Cynthia at table one, a remarkable concert cellist. Rachel is seated at table two. She’s a wonderful dancer. Tamara, our resident mathematician, is at table three. Table four is occupied by the lovely Nicole, a very talented journalist. Martina, hailing from the Baltic State of Latvia and a world class sculptor, occupies table five. Directly to your right, at table six, is Sophie, Seattle’s preeminent civil rights attorney. Ladies, this is Linda, a grifter, con artist, and all around drain on society. Linda and her dearly departed husband concocted a rather pedestrian plan to steal from me. As you can see, it didn’t quite work out the way they planned.”
Linda stared in disbelief as he went from table to table chatting up his imaginary friends. Joshua stroked their hair, caressed their cheeks, and kissed their hands as he flirted with each “lady.” When he got to the table next to her, Linda lost sight of him, but she could still hear what he was saying.
“Don’t worry, my spectacular Sophie, this changes nothing. You’re still very, very special to me,” Constantine said with all the charm at his disposal. “Have you been watching the news for any new information? Don’t worry, my darling. I’ll always be here for you, just as you’ll always be here for me.” Linda wasn’t able to hear the rest of it as Joshua lowered his voice to a whisper. But after a few minutes she could hear him kiss Sophie passionately.
