The Beast And Me

by D. S. Wrights

  I left everything as it was – the blanket flipped over so that I could slip right back in – and leaped past the chairs and table, towards the door, to hold his band against the scanner. And it worked.

  Still can’t believe it.

  I knew the way to Jay’s cage and I knew which room I needed to get to for supplies.

  I was barefoot.

  Peeking out my door, I knew and it was past 11pm now because the lights in the corridor were dim. Luckily my clothes had almost the same color as the walls, so I slid along them. I knew where the cameras were, from the countless walks, and which area they faced. I basically crawled and rolled to get to that supply room.

  I don’t know if those cameras got me. Time will tell.

  I reached the room, and I was so indescribably nervous, as I held Peter’s wristband against the scanner, not knowing if there was a camera as well. As it opened with a hissing sound I didn’t care to look for the lights, but left the door open instead. My eyes were already used to the dim, dark, but not enough to see every detail of the room.

  It wasn’t necessary.

  I had crawled by it several times to know where the closets were and I knew I wouldn’t have much time until someone would check this place. Apart from that I wasn’t sure if I should go through the corridor again. Yet, if I would go through the air system and they had seen me on my way in, they would know about the vent, so that meant: going back through the corridor.

  Then I realized that I had to be prepared in case that they would catch me.

  I would never go down without a fight. So, changing my mind, I closed the door and switched on the lights.

  The first thing I went looking for was something like a bag, but there wasn’t anything. I was in the wrong room for that. Tools were here: nippers, screwdrivers, binders...

  This basically was the janitor’s paradise and nonetheless: mine. But why were there no bags? There had to be something to put all these little helpers into. I couldn’t go with that large worker’s belt, there was no way hiding something big like this in my room.

  And then I found it: duct tape. Better than nothing.

  I used it to tape the nippers and the screwdriver around my body, along with one of two box cutters.

  If they find out that I stole something: it should be this, it would be the most logical: a weapon to defend myself with. I would find a way to address White’s pity with that, to act desperate and melt his wicked heart.

  I wouldn’t take any more, so they shouldn’t notice that I was here in case the cameras in fact didn’t catch me. I taped almost the whole tape around my body, because I needed so secure it, and a roll would be much harder to hide than straps of it beneath my basin. And then I went back, just the same way I got there.

  I still can’t believe that I did that.

  Again, it was too easy and I had learned that everything came along with a price.

  I still can’t believe that I am sitting here having Breakfast and everything is fine and nothing has happened to call on my debt. I know there will be something. It’s like a pitch black shadow lurking in the corner of my eye, vanishing the moment I move towards it. I just know.

  When I came back Peter was still asleep and the first thing I did was put his wristband back on gently, before I stuck one of the two cutters into my mattress and ran for my bathroom, where I un-taped myself from all the rest. This was when I breathed out with half of relief, because if he would wake up right then and there I could simply pretend to have gone to the bathroom.

  Still, I was quick to unwrap all of the stolen presents: the screwdriver, the nippers and the second cutter, and tape them beneath the basin. With Peter in the other room, I didn’t dare to go for the vent. And then I got back to bed as carefully as possible.

  I was freezing and first I had to warm up before I woke him, and calm down my heartbeat. It wouldn’t. Not even when I took his hand and wrapped it around me, or when I scooted closer to him to suck up the warmth that was radiating off of him. It was like my body refused to betray him any further and guilt claimed my bones like ice. So I did the only thing I could think of, covering my excitement, and waking him up: I faked a dream.

  I know, I know... how pathetic. Let’s just say that I imagined being with my Beast, really being with him, and there were just a few things I didn’t really fake, but acted out on, because I wouldn’t warm up any other way.

  However, as soon as Peter jumped up from his nap, I was pretty damn sure that he was instantly embarrassed about the situation, especially about the noises I made, and rushed out.

  At least the way the door closed let me believe that.

  I wish I could say that I slept brilliantly. I should have, but I couldn’t get a wink of sleep, until I dropped into a dead like state from exhaustion.

  Day 83

  So this is day 83 now. I don’t even have a clue what weekday it is. I can’t recall. I don’t know if they took me on a Friday or a Saturday. I think it was at the weekend, but I don’t remember. I’m not really sure, so even if I try to count back, there’s no way I can tell... and then... I mean, it’s been a week short of four months now and it means... my Birthday is soon...

  I can’t see my own writing clearly. I need a break.

  I never expected that thinking of my Birthday would upset me in such a way. I mean, I usually hate it, I despise celebrating it, and I’m happy when no one thinks of it, apart from my family. Not even them, to be honest. And now... no one will celebrate it, I won’t get the chance to roll my eyes, be annoyed, and secretly be happy about some of the presents, not all of them, there are always those that show people don’t know me or don’t care about me. Still... dammit, I’m tearing up again.

  Workout as usual. Ironically, I didn’t have to worry about Peter. He stayed away and he tried to avoid talking to me. And I didn’t look that well either, because I’ve been crying. My eyes are all red and swollen, and of course cold water does only help so much. And because... I thought I had already realized my situation.

  Apparently I still cannot fully wrap my head around it. Somehow a part of me still is in denial – a part I myself do not know – and I keep wondering when his, Jay’s, birthday is, if he even knows, if he was being able to keep track on time. I doubt that. Unless he has a diary as well, which he probably doesn’t since White doesn’t see him as a human being.

  White... Severin came to visit me at Lunch and ate with me. I instantly knew that something was up, that I was caught. This sick feeling in my gut, I couldn’t explain it in any other way.

  “So does the medicine I gave you help with sleeping?” he asked as if it wasn’t anything special, but it struck me like a frozen dagger.

  I kept my eyes to the table and nodded. I had to think fast and I did, hoping it would be enough

  “But it gives me nightmares”, I lied, peeking at him through the corners of my eyes, I was betting high. “Please, Sir, it’s completely my fault”, I burst out; trying to be the scared little girl he wanted to see.

  Attack was the best defense, sometimes and right then the only way to find out what exactly he knew, if he knew anything. I dropped fork and knife and grabbed his lower arm, doing my best to act like a kid begging for mercy because it had failed, and even worse: disappointed.

  “I thought if he’d stay for a bit and watch over me, I would feel better. I know I’m not allowed to have someone else in my room, but you but I...”

  “Hush”, he cut me off and I was stunned, which I didn’t have to pretend, because he placed one hand on mine and actually smiled gently at me.

  And then... like in slow motion I could watch it happening: he lifted his hand and brushed the back of his fingers across my cheek. I flinched. There was nothing I could do about it, but it seemed to have been just the reaction he had expected.

  “I am pleased that you are honest with me, Meghan”, he said softly, and hearing my name – not my nickname – spoken out by that voice of his gave me goose bumps in more than just an
eerie way:

  The spiders were snaking down my spine again, more like they were racing each other.

  “It’s him who should have known better. I understand that you are very scared at the moment, because I was so unforgiving towards you.”

  Right then and there I remembered Peter’s words: that he would have done everything to stop what White had ordered.

  Realization struck me right in my face, throwing a brick, in size of a watermelon. He had just admitted it. Reading between the lines he let me know that it had been him ordering these three nights in Hell.

  Of course I had suspected it, because nothing happens without Severin’s consent, but I am sure that he had intended to appear as the good guy here – in his very own twisted way – but me surprising him with honesty, playing the part he has written in his mind for me, made him forget that.

  I swallowed down the acid that had snuck its way up to my throat. Finally, he took his filthy hand away from me and I ripped mine off of him as well. Being able to look down again, I glued my glance to the linoleum tiles of the floor.

  “Unfortunately, I cannot be considerate of this right now”, he continued and I shivered again, like someone had spread snow all over me and the powdery cold found its way into every open spot on my clothing, just because of me getting my hopes up. “You promised me that you were able to calm him”, and these words made me stare at White in terror – he got it wrong – yet I wasn’t able to tear those eyes away from his face that were not the tiles my glance was meant to examine.

  His words rung in my ear like fog horns and I was scared, scared for Jay, terrified even.

  If White was talking about me calming Jay, what the Hell must have happened to him? Of course he thought I was scared of meeting the Beast again. He didn’t know that I wasn’t afraid of him, because he was exactly that: my Beast.

  “I’m sorry, but you have to try”, Severin grabbed my hand again and I tried not to look disgusted or appalled, but stare blankly. “You will.”

  And I nodded.

  “Good girl", he got up, and I almost threw up hearing those two simple words that were so disgusting being combined by him.

  Good girl. Good girl. I’m no fucking bitch you pervert scum. I couldn’t finish my Lunch...

  I was too angry and too worried – I’m going to see him, but I’m worried why.

  What happened that White needs me to calm Jay down? Or is he just playing with me?

  Why is White behaving so different all of a sudden?

  Am I that good at acting? Or does he worry about his Ten as well? Is Jay really that important?

  I remember, White telling me that he was more valuable than me or even him. So is this what this is about? Jay is saving me in even more ways than I imagined. And yet W... Severin isn’t afraid of me getting almost forced by his men. However: I’m going to see him tonight.

  I’m back now. I’m sitting at dinner, which is a little bit late, I believe. I’m okay, just... I feel... blank... I don’t know what to think really.

  One can tell that I was beyond nervous as Peter and Gray got me out of my room and escorted me down the corridor. I tried not to stare at the door that I had been through last and I remembered that I hadn’t had any chance to secure the things I’ve taken, like hiding them in the vent and not beneath the sink – I don’t know if I’m ever going to do that. I should, I know, but what for?

  I expected to end up somewhere else. I really did. Like some sort of hospital room, a lab or something. I didn’t allow my thoughts to go to the interrogation room. Still, my heart seemed to have gone there because it was hammering like crazy. But they brought me back to the cage, which is still so much larger than my room. The gate was already opened.

  “He’s at the end”, it was Gray who told me that and I was worried sick, literally worried sick; because he barely ever spoke to me and Peter avoided any eye contact, which I was so desperately trying to make in order to get a hint on what was awaiting me.

  Something held me back, back from running towards him, blindly, unprepared. Still, I’m not sure what exactly I was afraid of: catching one of the thousand thoughts that wheezed in my head was close to impossible.

  There was some kind of tension in the air, like it was electrified. The thin hairs covering my body were already standing up straight as I turned around, but the door already was about to be closed. Peter looked at me before he shut it. His expression... it freaked me out. Only then I realized that he was there with me, in the cage, and the door was locked from the outside.

  I don’t know why I wasn’t able to comprehend this situation. I can’t tell why it didn’t confuse me, that I didn’t think twice. It didn’t make any sense that Peter would be there with me. And my mind, which usually would come up with a logical explanation, was like it is now: blank.

  Peter was my shadow in a room made of shadow as I slowly, hesitantly stepped forward and my hand twitched as I managed to stop it from taking his hand. My pulse echoed in my head. I moved step by step until a wall of bars severed my path.

  I froze the second I could see that figure at the wall. Not because I recognized him, but because of what I saw, what I perceived. Jay wasn’t himself, he was changed. They had shackled him to the wall by his wrists, at the height of his head that now hung almost lifelessly down to his chest. The room was dim, but lit up enough for me to see all those cuts and bruises, dried blood. He wasn’t really there with us.

  Seeing him like that paralyzed me. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t tear my eyes away, and I couldn’t breathe until I saw how his chest heaved slowly. He was breathing. Jay was still alive. I exhaled in relief.

  “He’s out” Peter’s voice was much closer than it should be; I hadn’t noticed that he had stepped beside me, exactly one step behind me so that he could speak lowly into my ear; and I could imagine that he was looking at the picture in front of me, while talking. “Can’t tell for how long. It’s the only way we can keep him restrained.”

  Something about his voice, something about the way he spoke, the way he explained, slid slowly down my spine like goo. I swallowed and moved my eyes only to look at him, Peter, because he was so close, while Jay wasn’t.

  So, I stepped as close to the bars as I could. Still, it was too far for me to reach through and touch him, which was why I didn’t even try. I gripped the metal tightly and almost pressed myself against it.

  “I’m here”, I said softly. “Jay, I’m here, I’m okay.”

  There was a lump building in my throat. It was so excruciating to see him like that and not being able to touch him, to soothe him. Yet more terrifying was the fact that he was still changed even though they had obviously sedated him. I always thought that when he was sleeping, calm and relaxed, that he would change back to his human appearance.

  “White thinks he is still aware”, Peter was standing behind me. “That he can be awake, that he is just paralyzed. So maybe he can hear you.”

  I thought that he wanted to encourage me to continue talking. He knows that I call Severin White but still it gave me goose bumps hearing him say my nickname for this man. It seemed like he didn’t want to use the real name for him either and still it felt like some kind of intrusion right now.

  “I don’t know what to tell him”, I heard myself whisper, even though he would hear that as well if he was awake.

  He was. I knew it.

  I knew he could listen to me, because for me it seemed as if he was breathing a little bit faster, because of me speaking.

  “Tell him what you did”, Peter stepped closer; that close that I could feel him against the fabric of my shirt.

  This was too close and I instinctively pressed myself against the bars to evade him, which of course was wrong.

  “Tell him that you were rebellious”, his mouth was right next to my ear now, and my hair was electrified.

  I was caged just like Jay was now, but if I moved Peter would probably pull me out of this room and I wouldn’t see Jay.
I just knew and I had so much to lose right now.

  Still, my mind was working on an explanation. My eyes searched the cage for a camera, a window, for me to know that White was here. But it was just Jay, Peter and me. Yet, Peter felt so much like White right now, he even sounded like him, even made me feel sick like him.

  I swallowed, this time it was the acid crawling up my throat. Something was wrong, so utterly wrong. My heart was suddenly hammering so heavily that it felt like it was beating against the bar my chest was pressed against.

  Why I still thought of him as a friendly person, I don’t know. I still don’t. I think, it was me fighting to keep a part of me innocent, a part of me naïve, unspoiled, and most of all pristine. I think, I just needed that piece of hope saved, hope that there was someone else still good. Not just Jay and me. Though he obviously doesn’t feel like this and I know that he has probably killed. Even though I never witnessed it. Yet, he’s not evil, he’s been stained, yes, cursed - if you want to say it, yes, but he’s not beyond saving.

  Everyone else here... they are lost.

  I thought Peter was one of the few still on the brink of being good, but... it’s like I’m trapped in Hell and all of them are demons, and all of them try to devour me, to make me one of them. I feel like I have to in order to save myself, but it’s like I will give up what makes me different from them. And somehow... somehow I know now that Peter is one of the worst of them.

  “Tell him what you did”, he repeated and I expected him to press himself against me, like all the others probably would have, but he didn’t.

  He is the worst of them because he plays with my hope. White isn’t able to do that, he has failed, and now I know why, because he was always the open, the obvious opponent. He was the face of the devil. Even though he told me that he wasn’t the head of the snake, the king on the chess board, he always acted like he was at least the queen. And now, now I’m not even sure if he’s a bishop. I’d say he’s a tower, always threatening, always present, and always predictable.