by Diana Graves
“Gianes,” was all I said. It was a barely audible whisper.
“Gianes?”
“Yes. I think Nanuet may have snuck something into this country.”
Fillips sat back. “What?”
“Nanuet and her daughter are gianes. And, gianes come from larvae, one of the oldest sorts of fae.”
“Larvae? Like caterpillars, maggots, tadpoles?”
“No, same word, two very different meanings. Larva is Latin for ghost. I’ve only seen pictures of them in books. They have an unbelievable amount of wild magic to make themselves hauntingly beautiful to attract their victims. They rape, or devour or both and this is what is left; nothing but a dried husk of a man or woman.
“You’re saying that Nanuet smuggled a larva into America…” Fillips picked up the phone and hit speed dial, option two. “What information do we have on Nanuet? The woman who came in the other day with the muscle. Yeah, her.” She looked at me with the receiver to her ear. The officer on the other end said that they didn’t have much, but he’d make some calls. “Good, good, put together a file on her and have it ready in an hour. I think we have a lead.” She hung up the phone. “Thank you, Raina.”
“And, here I came asking you for help.”
“Don’t worry about Nanuet anymore. We’ll take care of her. Just call me if she comes around again.” Fillips stood and opened her door, making it obvious that it was time for me to leave.
I stood too, but I didn’t move toward the door. “What I don’t understand, Fillips, is why Nanuet is so adamant that I find her daughter.”
She seemed to think about it for a time while she held onto the door handle. She looked to the floor with a pinched brow, as though she might find the answer there. “I don’t know.”
FROM BETTER TO WORSE
FOR THE FIRST time ever my local bank branch was genuinely happy to see me. I filled out all the paper work and together me and my banker watched as my sad overdrawn account went from negative fifty-five dollars and thirty cents to a quarter billion and some change. I opened a savings account for Thomas for the rest of the family fortune and there were happy faces and handshakes all around. I stopped at the mall for a cell phone and lunch on my way home. It felt good to not have worries. I had Raphael off my back, money in the bank, I’d be moving out of Fauna’s house with Katie and Thomas soon. Life was good.
I arrived home mid-afternoon to an empty house. Fauna wouldn’t be home from work until after five and Katie left a note. The note said that she went to Dan’s to pick up some clothes. It didn’t say when she left, but I was sure she would want a ride home at some point. Few prefer public transportation.
After reactivating my old account it was simply a matter of taking the sim-card out of my old phone and putting it in my new smart phone, and whammy, all my pictures and contacts were there. I loved technology. It beat the heck out of magic any day. I went through my contact list to find Katie’s number. I had it attached to a picture of her flipping me the bird. I think that was the first time I actually smiled down at that picture. Who knew, my little sister was growing on me.
I let the phone ring until her voicemail picked up, but I didn’t leave a message. Instead, I just called Dan’s house phone. I didn’t have a picture attached to his number. I never cared enough to do it.
The phone only rang twice before he picked it up. He sounded like he just woke up when he answered, “Hello?” Weird.
“Did I wake you from a nap?” I asked.
Nothing for a beat, and then he said, “Yeah, who is this?”
“Raina.” Why was I not surprised that he didn’t recognize my voice? “I thought Katie was there, getting some of her things. Did she leave already?”
More silence and then I heard him groan. Perhaps he just wanted to get me off the phone so he could go back to sleep. Too bad.
“She came this morning, but her mom already picked up all her things yesterday. She left with her mom a few hours ago.”
Balls! “You let Rachael take her?”
“Yes, Raina. I’m sorry, but why are you calling me about this?”
He didn’t know. Katie didn’t tell him? Was the embarrassment and shame so great? I’d read that rape survivors often have issues sharing their pain, but Goddess damn it! “Fuck, Dan!” I couldn’t help my outburst, it just came out.
“Raina Annabella Kirkland!”
“You don’t get it,” I interrupted him. I might have promised Katie I wouldn’t tell anybody about Jed raping her, but Dan already knew about the violence. “Jed still lives there, with Rachael. He beat the crap out of her the other day and she’s been staying with me.” He was silent for a time, so I filled the space. “I need Rachael’s address. I’ll go pick her up.”
“Rachael said he moved out,” he said, but his words were hollow.
“I know, some people think their lovers are more important than their children.” I didn’t know what else to say about that. I considered Rachael just as much a monster as Jed because she allowed it. She knew he raped her little girl, and she did nothing. She even went so far as to lie about their relationship status so that he could have his young victim back. She wasn’t a mother; she was a vessel for childbirth, an egg donor; that was all! It takes more than giving birth to be a mother. It takes care, compassion, patience, love and above all a sense of duty; duty to raise an intelligent, strong, feeling person in a safe, loving environment. I was fuming with anger, but more importantly I feared for Katie. “Her address, Dan, please.” He gave it to me and I hung up on him the moment he was done. I didn’t wait a moment longer. Fuck him, too. Dumb shit. Maybe I was being unfair to him. He was after all my real dad, but I’d worry about that later. Priorities.
Rachael’s house wasn’t far at all from Fauna’s; just over a mile. I quickly typed her address into the navigator on my phone and ran out of the door. I jumped in my car and started to back out of the driveway, but Katie was standing in my path.
Katie stood there in torn jeans and a dirty white shirt. Her hands were clasped tightly around the straps to her pink backpack. She looked lost. I turned the key and jumped out of my car.
“Hey, are you okay?” I asked. Her face was dirty, like she’d been playing in mud. “What did he do to you, Katie? Are you hurt badly?”
“I want to see Michael. I miss him, Raina,” she sobbed, suddenly too weak to hold herself up, she fell to her knees.
“Katie?” I went down to her.
I looked into her brown eyes, so big and still holding the innocence of youth. I suddenly understood that the makeup she wore so thick before was a mask. She hid behind it so no one could see the real her, the vulnerable, scared child whose whole world had broken down to a living nightmare of random violent sexual assaults. Everyone who was supposed to love and protect her failed her, and she was in such pain. She was silent but she was screaming inside, “Dirty, I’m dirty! I hate, I hate him! I hate me! Why me? Why did this happen to me?”
I took a closer look at her, she was obviously traumatized. “Goddess,” I breathed as I took in the state of her. The red smears were blood, cracking like dried mud. Her face and upper chest was riddled with bruises. It looked like Jed used her as a punching bag. But, I didn’t see any cuts. Where did the blood on her face come from?
“What did he do to you?” I asked. It took some effort, but I kept the anger out of my voice. She didn’t need it.
“I like you, Raina. I feel safe with you. Can we take a nap together?” Her eyes were red and swollen from crying.
“Nap?”
“I’m so tired.”
“Yes, of course, but we need to get you cleaned. Let’s get you in the shower.” I needed to see the extent of the beating. She probably needed medical care, whether she wanted it or not.
She nodded and I wrapped her arm around my neck to help her up off the driveway. “How did you get here?” I asked, trying to remain composed. I was breathing heavy, unimportant questions helped me focus.
“Walke
d,” she said quietly. Rachael didn’t live too far away, but in Katie’s state it must have seemed like miles.
“They just let you leave?”
“No, he fell asleep?” Katie stopped then, “I don’t feel good.”
Her eyes were pinched in pain. I looked back and saw fresh blood on the driveway where she had been sitting. I looked her over again and her jeans were quickly filling with blood. Her bottom was bright red with it, and it was pouring down her legs. She fell to the pavement, hard.
“Katie!” I yelled. She wasn’t moving and her breathing was shallow. She looked dead, but I could hear her weak heartbeat. “No, no, no.” I knelt down, “Katie!” I brought her onto my lap and shook her until she opened her eyes.
“Am I dying, Raina?”
“No,” I said calmingly as I brushed her hair from her face. My eyes were flooding with unstoppable tears. People were beginning to crowd us, just staring at us. I held my little sister tight against my chest and reached for my purse, for my cell phone. It lay forgotten on the driveway.
Katie had passed out from the pain just as the emergency dispatcher picked up. The dispatcher was calm, and I was panicked, and his calmness irritated me. I felt like he didn’t care at all. I was screaming at him over the phone. I was being crude and insulting and angry and later I’d feel bad about it. It was his job to stay calm. We couldn’t both freak out. I was cradling my dying sister in my arms, with her hot blood soaking through my clothes and I didn’t have it in me to be kind or composed.
The ambulance came first. They took Katie out of my arms and strapped her to a gurney with an IV and hauled her into the ambulance within seconds of their arrival. Katie was gone and I was left on the sidewalk covered in her blood and surrounded by police officers. I told the police she just showed up like that, and I didn’t have a clue how she got that way…I lied.
BLIND RAGE
I DIDN’T TRUST myself to drive. My head was spinning too much, so I walked to Rachael’s instead. I was going to confront Jed; maybe I’d rough him up a bit, maybe kill him. Because, that would be so easy? Who did I think I was, Arnold Schwarzenegger? You raped my sister, big mistake. But, I had to do something. Jed made Katie bleed inside! He ripped her open, forced himself inside her. He deserved worse than prison. And, what punishment would he get anyhow; three maybe four years behind bars? Fuck that. I could still hear her screaming inside my mind. It was her screams that propelled me forward in a distraught haze.
I was coming up on Rachael’s McMansion of a house. It was new construction; a big canary yellow colonial styled house with tall pillars. I walked up to the front door. It was open. I could see bloody hand prints on the door knob, and I was careful not to touch it. I’d never been there before. It was spacious and full of tasteful furniture. The house was quiet. As I made my way through it I noted how immaculate it was. Everything had its place, everything was clean and perfect, save for the blood I found here and there; a smear on the wall or a few drops on the white carpet. Bread crumbs.
The blood led up the stairs and to the master bedroom. The double doors that led into the room were also left open. I peered into the room and found Jed sleeping on the king sized bed wearing nothing but faded jeans. Thankfully I had the presence of mind to block him from my clairvoyance. Even though a part of me wanted to know why he did what he did to my sister, I didn’t want to hear him inside my mind; I didn’t want to see events from his perspective. Call it cowardice or self-preservation, but I was pretty sure his thoughts would make me puke.
I walked to the bed and stared down at him. His curly blond afro was all a mess as he laid face down on the pillow. He didn’t seem like much. He was pathetic really, but to a young girl he was probably pretty intimidating.
Adrenaline and rage were still flowing through me, but I didn’t know what to do with myself. My anger had taken me this far. It had given me drive, but I couldn’t attack a sleeping man. Even a monster like him, it seemed wrong. What good was this murderous drive, this very clear direction, if I couldn’t bring myself to do the deed? My nerves were failing me as I stared down at the sleeping monster, and suddenly the idea of cops dragging him out in handcuffs seemed better than what I had planned, because I had no plan. I lied to the police and walked all the way there so that I could have my revenge, feel it in my hands. I let my rage fill me so completely. What did I think would happen? Did I think my hate alone would kill him?
But, no permanent damage was done. Jed was still asleep. I could still sneak out, and tell the cops what he did. I could tell them I lied because I was scared for myself. They’d come and take his ass to jail. No harm, no foul. I started to turn away from him, but something caught my eye. Lying next to him was a pile of red blankets and sheets. They weren’t dyed red, but drenched in blood, browning with age and stinking of metals. The fact that I hadn’t noticed it right away meant I was probably in shock, and I was probably not noticing a lot.
I tried to look away. I told myself, “Just get out of there you stupid bitch! Move!” But I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t move. That was where he raped her. That was her blood; her innocence bled out. I wished I couldn’t imagine the nightmare of it, but I was an empath and more, and Katie’s pain, self-hate, and cold drying blood were all too real to me. I wouldn’t have chosen then to breakdown and weep, but I couldn’t control myself. A full on panic attack was emanate. I tried to breathe slowly to calm the building hysteria.
“Katie?” Jed asked. His words were cold, and I turned my head to find him sitting up. “What are you doing in my house?”
And, just like that, I had thrust myself into Katie’s nightmare. I’d only met Jed twice before, and each time he was a douche; a petty, pro-human, crass fool. But, I’d never been alone with him. I never had the full weight of his attention on me. Yes, he was small in stature, yes he was lanky and boy-like, but his eyes were huge, aggressive, and wild. And, as if that wasn’t enough of a reason to second guess my being there, there was something off about him. He smelled ripe, and his skin looked clammy and thin. He was high on something unnatural.
I bit my lip and in a show of bravery or stupidity, I gave him my back. “I’m leaving.”
“Where’s Katie?” he asked. I didn’t answer him. Instead I quickened my pace. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?” he said. “I said; where are you going, witch!”
Out of the master bedroom, I made a mad dash for the stairs. I heard him slam the doors wide open behind me and seconds later I was shoved to the floor. The air was knocked out of my lungs. Then I was up, thrown across the hall. Jed slammed me into the wall by the double doors that led to the bedroom. He slapped me hard across my face several times before he tossed me to the floor, just inside the room. He kicked my stomach repeatedly, each kick forced me farther into the room. When he stopped beating me he turned to shut the door behind him. The attack happened in a matter of seconds and only then was I able to catch my breath. How could a man of his size toss me about like that?
“We’re going to have fun,” he spoke softly.
He looked down at me and the look in his eyes said it all. There was nothing feeling or rational home in there. Holding my stomach I got up and ran for the windows. I was two stories up and even though I suffered from severe vertigo, I was planning on jumping to safety. I threw the curtains open and I found the window covered in bloody hand prints. Katie had also tried to escape this way. I tried to open the window, but it wouldn’t budge! There was a screw in the window track to keep it from being opened. Fuck!
Jed grabbed me from behind and slammed me down onto the bloody bed. I bounced and he caught my legs in midair. I thrashed back and forth, digging into the blankets. I couldn’t let him hold me down.
He grabbed me by my hair. “You might be a piece of shit witch, but pussy’s pussy,” he said an inch from my face.
I growled more than screamed through gritted teeth as he pulled me up by my hair and threw me down on the floor. I hit the ground hard and Jed pinned me befor
e I realized it. He wedged his body between my legs and flung up my dress while holding me down with an elbow at my throat.
“Red underwear, I like it. Bet the bra matches,” he said as he pressed his groin against my panties.
I screamed, “No, stop!” It was an order, and I expected him to follow it, but he didn’t. Why hadn’t it worked? Why didn’t he stop? My mind was racing but panic made it work slower.
He worked eagerly at unbuttoning his pants as his upper body’s weight held me down, his chest pressed against mine. I fought hard: hitting, biting, clawing at him, making him bleed, but he didn’t seem to mind the pain.
“You’re fun. Katie just freezes the moment I touch her, but I miss her cries,” he breathed into my ear. My panic level rose when I felt his nakedness press between my thighs.
“Get the fuck off me!” I screamed.
He punched me in the face twice. “Don’t talk back!” I was dazed. I felt like I was going to puke. He grabbed my arms, limp and without an ounce of fight in them, and placed them both over my head. He held my wrists with one hand and used the other to pull my panties down.
“Yes, yes,” he breathed into my face.
I started to scream and I couldn’t stop. I was becoming hysterical. My screams were so raw and desperate that they scared me to hear them. I lost my careful control. I could no longer block his mind, and I was thrown into a world of sexual sadism and inflated ego. Images and knowledge ran through my mind, frantic and fragmented. He loved the look of terror in a woman’s eyes. He loved the screams and cries. He lived to see us trembling beneath him, begging him for mercy. What he did to Katie he did to Rachael as well. Burning her, raping her, beating her. He once left her gagged and bound for two full days, locked away in his car’s trunk with the threat of death to keep her quiet. Her spirit was broken, but every now and then she defied him for her daughter’s sake. And, she was harshly punished for it.
