by Kim Faulks
Chapter Ten
Hansel
Those hazel eyes haunted me the next day. She worked tirelessly, oblivious to my hovering presence. Guilt turned my stomach to stone, until I couldn’t stand to look at her. I retreated to my room, playing out what I’d remembered from last night. How could I do that? How could I say yes?
It was the demon drink, I told myself. And yet, some part of me said otherwise. That part of me understood how perfect an opportunity this was. That part of me relished the idea of my sister being used and hurt. Piece by piece I wanted to take her apart, to expose her to the power of the male body... to my body.
Sweat broke out along the back of my neck. My knuckles popped under clenched fists. Evil thoughts wormed their way under my skin. My sister’s debasement was all I could think off. The guilt was eating me alive.
I paced inside my room and stared at the world from my window. The warmth of the sun couldn’t reach me. Under the harsh glare, I still felt the chill of my words. The icy touch was unwavering, like a stain upon my soul.
I gripped the knob and yanked. My hurried steps rebounded inside this hollow tomb. A voice stopped me as I neared the east wing. Coming from the kitchen, that sound shredded my heart.
Gretel sang.
I hung my head. My feet refused to move. I stared at the door at the end of the hall and ached for a warm touch or a gentle word. I needed my mother.
I grazed my fingers against the door, searching for a flicker of life inside. It was quiet, so terribly quiet. “Mother, are you awake?” I strained for an answer, pressing my head against the wood. “I need to talk to you.”
There was a sound, a squeak of a bed, then the scrape of a chair. Hope flared. I dropped my hand to the knob. The door creaked loudly as I twisted the handle and opened. The heat and the rancid stench struck me with a fist I couldn’t see. Rotting. Something was rotting inside this room. I gagged and slapped my hand across my nose. Shadows crowded the room, hiding in corners, staring at me. I wretched into my palm and wiped the spittle from my mouth.
I caught a shift in the darkness and squinted. Was she in here? God, don’t tell me she’s... dead. “Mother, are you in here?”
The darkness moved. I fought the need to run—the torment of my soul was more important than the torment of my body. I took a step inside.
A croak cut through the room. “What do you want?”
I eased the door closed behind me, narrowing in on the sound. The closer I moved toward her, the clearer she became. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”
“I have no need of the light.”
The answer was cold as it slipped from her lips. Her voice was thick and soggy, reminding me of the bulbous toads hidden under rocks and leaves in the still waters deep in the forest. I hated the forest. I hated the cold and the damp. I hated the smell of pine, but most of all I hated the toads. The memory of them came to me, dragging the remnants in my stomach into my throat. The stench of them was nothing compared to the hideous sounds they made.
My mother was a vain woman, one who lingered at every window and every mirror, searching, always admiring her own reflection. Why would she want the dark now? I cleared my throat and tried to keep the tremble from my voice. “What is that smell?”
“What smell?”
“The stink, Mother. The putrid stench of....”
I stumbled for the window and gripped the heavy velvet curtain. Light shouldered its way inside, casting shadows like demons from the room. I wrenched the heavy fabric, metal hooks jangled along the rod. I searched the room, making my way around the bed. The ornate dresser was cluttered with bottles of perfume. Boxes were piled high along the wall, remnants from her shopping spree. I clenched my jaw and tore my gaze from the pile.
The stench turned stronger as I neared her bedside dresser. The top drawer was ajar, waiting for me to grab the handle. I shoved my hand against my nose, smothering the fetid air. I probed the opening and hooked my finger inside.
Something waited for me in there. Something vile and unseen. The wood squealed and light rushed in. I stilled. Lumps of shriveled meat sat upon layers of satin garments. Eggs, their yolks broken and green, sloshed as the drawer moved.
My leg buckled. I couldn’t tear my gaze from the sight. Heavy thuds sounded behind me. A blow caught me in the back of the head and sent me headfirst into the cupboard. I clutched my head. Nails raked my skin.
“Get away from that! What are you doing? What are you doing to my food? It’s my food. It’s mine!”
I lunged from the blows as the drawer slammed shut.
“It’s my food. It’s mine.”
My hands slipped from my head. I lifted my gaze. My heart was like thunder in my ears. My worries slipped from my mind along with my breath. I swallowed hard and searched for the familiar. Her height and hair were the only recognizable features I could find.
This thing had somehow consumed my mother. It had swallowed her whole, along with everything else. Dark, unflinching eyes stared at me—they stared through me. Heavy jowls hung from her chin to pool around the base of her neck. I shoved myself from the floor. My legs trembled slowly rising to face her.
Her ruined red dress she spent our last coin on was filthy and bursting at the seams. The edges parted leaving undergarments exposed. Heat filled my face. I lifted my gaze to the breadcrumbs in the frill of her plunging neckline and the hard yellowed crusts that looked vaguely like... rotten egg.
I belched and nothing but air rose. My stomach twisted and turned. I grabbed the wall and tried to hold on. Where was the regal woman I’d once known? Where was the pride of this family?
She turned away from me and shuffled to the chair. That thick, globulous sound came from my mother. “Why are you here?”
I swallowed the puke and the acid in my mouth. “I... I needed to talk to you.”
Part of me still yearned for her. I felt that part now. I was the little boy once more. The lost boy—I thought of my sister and the love she shared with my father—the forgotten boy.
“I’ve done something. Something I’m not proud of.”
I searched for the words. The right words to lessen the horror of it. But there was only the black and white of it. The crude slap in the face of how far I’d fallen.
“Do you want acceptance or understanding? One I can give you. The other you must give yourself.”
“How am I to find peace? Help me understand what I must do?”
She turned to me then. “If you fight with the devil and it consumes you, the devil wins. If you fight with the devil and you die, the devil wins.”
I waited for the answer. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”
“Don’t bother fighting.”
The weight of the world was upon me. Every rock and every boulder. Every man and woman and child.
“Don’t struggle dear. You’ll only make things worse... you’ve always been a little too much like me, Hansel. And she has never been quite enough like me. Now, come and give your Mother a kiss.”
My breath was the only sound inside this room. Harsh. Gasping. Slowing as she stared at me. I nodded. Don’t fight. The devil will win anyway.
Chapter Eleven
Hansel
I opened the door at the sound of footsteps on the gravel. There were no pleasantries. None were needed. The thick envelope hit my palm and I stepped to the side.
“It’s all there. You can count it if you want.”
I shook my head. My heart thundered. There was no need for care. The devil walked with us as I strode toward the kitchen and I was afraid he was here to stay. This burden had haunted me since leaving my mother’s room. Her damn words settled deep in my soul. Don’t fight. The devil will win anyway.
A small tray sat on the bench. The water cooled from the boil. I reached for my pocket and pulled the small amber bottle free and unscrewed the cap. Three drops were more than enough for someone so small. The dark reddish liquid hit the cubed sugar and bled through. I carried
the cup, gently pouring in the steaming water.
“Don’t you think that’s a little too much? Won’t she notice? Laudanum is very bitter.”
I jerked my gaze over my shoulder. “I’ve been feeding her the drug for months now. You want her docile, don’t you? A little extra can’t hurt.”
He nodded pulling out the gift. I place the cup on the saucer and reached for the bag in his hand. My hand shook as I reached inside, gripping the waxed paper and dragging the dainty, pink cupcake free. One single candle rested on the counter. I picked up the decoration and stabbed the end into the middle. Frosting coated my fingers as I pulled free. I lifted my hand, sliding each digit into my mouth then whispered, “Happy seventeenth birthday, my sweet sister.”
The man muttered behind me. “Jesus. I didn’t know.”
I wrenched my head toward him, taking in the shivering mess. “Does it matter?”
He cleared his throat. “No. I guess not.”
There were no refunds. There was no going back. I picked up the tray. “Wait outside when we reach the top of the stairs. Don’t come in until I call you. I don’t want her seeing you until the drug’s taken effect.”
“Okay. Jesus, okay.”
My legs were like water as I picked up the tray, but my heart was hard as a rock. The steady thuds echoed as I carried the tray toward the stairs and with each of those steps I came one step closer to Hell.
A soft light spilled out from underneath her door. I balanced the tray on one hand and rapped on the wood. “Gretel, are you awake?”
“Come in.” Her voice was so quiet, I hesitated before reaching for the handle.
I could stop this. I reached into my jacket pocket. The tray rattled in my hand. I closed my eyes and tried to still the tremor. The envelope lay thick against my chest, reminding me what was at stake. The devil stepped closer, whispering into my ear—stilling my hand. I nodded in agreement at words unsaid and turned the handle as I smiled. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Her tired eyes blinked and settled on the tray as I sat. Her lips parted at the sight of the fluffy cupcake. I smiled as she shifted those eyes to me. “You remembered?”
“Of course, why would you think I’d forget? It’s my birthday, too, you know?”
She shook her head and lowered her gaze. “I’m so sorry. I....”
“Hey.” I shifted the tray onto her lap and reached for the side of her face. “None of that, now. Anyway, I got the frosting as I pulled it from the bag. I’m pretty sure it was the best part. Now, hurry and eat up, before I change my mind and want half.”
That small, sad smile tugged at the dark cloak that had settled over my mind, pulling it aside long enough for a voice to whisper from underneath. Are you sure you should be doing this?
I stared at my sister. She fumbled for the waxed paper cup and peeled back the layer. She was my only way out. I smiled as she took the first bite. “Here, I made you tea to wash all that sugar down.”
She moaned with pleasure taking, bite after bite then washing it down with the bitter brew. “That is so good.”
Her eyes wavered as she spoke. Tired. Yes, she looked tired. I rose from the bed and lifted the tray from her lap. “Yes, it is. Drink up, sister, and always remember that I love you.”
Her brow furrowed as she lifted her hand. Her thin arm wavered before she dropped it. I slid the metal tray along her small dresser, then turned, helping her lift the cup to her lips. “That’s it, drink it all down.”
The drug hit her quickly. Her hand shook, spilling the last dregs of the black liquid onto her sheets. I lunged, catching the cup before it had a chance to smash on the floor. I had plenty of the drug to keep her well sated, and there were always plenty of men.
“So sleepy. I’m sorry... cake was good.”
I gave her my best smile. “That’s fine, don’t worry about it. You just rest.”
She nodded and closed her eyes as I continued. “I’ve got something else for you. He’s a friend of our father’s and he bought you the cake. It’d mean a lot if you were nice to him.”
She nodded, oblivious to the words. Her hand slid over her belly as her chin trembled and the crease between her eyes deepened. A moan slipped free. My heart thundered as she rolled.
My hand fluttered in the air. Should I touch her? “Are you okay?”
“Pain. Must be the cake... too rich.” Gretel shook her head, trying to hold the effects of the laudanum at bay. I knew the effects only too well.
“Just relax. There’s no pressure here. Just let yourself relax.” I kept her in my sight and stepped toward the door. The damn hinge groaned as I yanked the knob and whispered. “She’s ready.”
Adams was inside before I finished my short sentence. His eyes sparkled in the dim light, lips parted. His labored breaths filled the room. I glanced from him to my sister with my hand still on the handle. She stared with a glazed expression at the wall facing her bed. Maybe I should stay? I glanced to the open door. My spine tingled. I swallowed the urge to flee and yet I was helpless to move as this stranger stepped closer.
His voice was hypnotic. “Hello, there. I’m not sure if you remember me from the party, Gretel. But you certainly made an impression on me.”
I flinched. Party? I wracked my brain for his memory as he inched closer. Her wide glazed eyes drifted toward the motion as he sat beside her. The door hinge creaked under the weight of my hand.
My breath caught as he lifted a hand to touch her face.
His dark eyes pierced me with a deadly stare. “Are you going to undress her or do you want me to?”
My gut kicked like a mule.
“Stop. Stop touching me. Hansel?” My sister whimpered and swung her hand toward Adam’s. “Get away from me, please not again. Not again, Hansel.”
“I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible. Tell her, Hansel. Tell her why I’m here.”
I gaped as the bastard reached out and placed a hand on her leg. Her dress bunched up under the inexorable slide of his hand, revealing creamy skin. Low whimpers sent shivers along my skin. Her eyes were so wide, caught on the man who’d paid to touch her. “Make him stop, Hansel.”
I flinched at the sound of my name. My hand fluttered to my swollen pocket. “It’s the only way we’ll survive.”
The sonofabitch moaned as her skirt rode high revealing bare thigh at the top of her tan stockings. He traced that line with his finger, pausing to pluck the metal suspender clasp.
She tried to pull away, kicking the mattress with her heels. But there was nowhere for my sister to go as she hit the iron bars of her footboard. Adams leaned in. Even from my spot by the door, I could see the delight on his face.
Caught between this man and the bed and the wall, she had no where to go. Her fear was like lightening through my veins. So beautiful. So perfectly fragile, the devil whispered in my ear. I dropped my grip on the door handle, drawn by the terror in her eyes and the way her breath hitched at his touch.
The metal fasters of her suspenders snapped free. Theodore gripped her stocking and yanked. The thin hose tore, baring her legs. I gravitated toward the horror, reaching out to touch her perfect face. Her glazed eyes impaled me. “Please don’t do this,” she whispered. “Don’t let him do this.”
“This is the only way we’ll survive.” The words rang true to my bones. I touched her face. “You’re going to get us out of this, Gretel. I figured out why I still keep you here. You’re gonna let this man look at your body. You’re gonna spread those legs and let him stare at that pretty cunt.”
Save yourself, whispered the devil in my ear.
“And tomorrow I’m putting you up for the highest bidder. Whatever they want, as hard as they want, for as long as they want it. And when they’re done, I’m gonna line them up. I’m gonna let any man, willing to hand over a note, have you.”
Theodore speared his fingers through her buttons. I glimpsed pale flesh as each one popped free. His fat little hand dove, reaching for her small peaks. My
tongue snaked out, wetting my lip. That’s it, show me. Her tears slipped free under the shake of her head. She slapped Theodore’s hands. Those frantic little whimpers tingled something deep inside me.
“You’re going to ease the burden on this family, one way or another.”
I brushed my thumb across those pretty lips as her clothing tore. Her bare breast drew my gaze. Her dusky nipples hardened. Such a pretty little beast. I dropped my hand from her face, my touch lingering on the milky flesh.
Untouched by my hand—I turned to those fear-filled eyes—but not for long.
Something shifted in her gaze. A spark caught fire, as though inside this small, pathetic creature, lurked an animal I didn’t know. I clenched my grip, squeezing her warm flesh between my fingers. Those beautiful eyes clamped shut.
A hiss of excitement beside me broke the spell. I glanced over to the transfixed stare of Theodore Adams, then down to the dark thatch between Gretel’s legs. Adams spread her legs, exposing those secret folds. Silken skin glistened. The soft tiny nub urged me to reach out and touch. Had she touched herself? Had she rubbed herself to ecstasy and cried out against her pillow? Had she made that sweet slit weep?
Adam’s belt buckle jingled. His zipper made a metallic protest as it was lowered. The man let out a harsh grunt. Short, frantic blows from my conscience twisted my gut. Still, I found myself staring at the squat little cock in his hand. The eye winked as he jerked and strained.
A growl slipped from Gretel’s lips, a dark and dangerous sound. I wrenched my gaze to her face, finding that spark alight. Her top lip slid back from her teeth. The glint of pale enamel captured me as she yanked her knee toward her chest and kicked. The blow hit Adams in the shoulder, shoving him off the bed. He flailed, then hit the bare planks.
She rolled from my touch, falling to the floor. “Get away from me.”
Her exposed breast jiggled as she scurried toward the door. She swayed and staggered. Such a terrified little thing. My pulse was deafening in my ears. I fought the sound to whisper. “It’s okay. It’s okay. There’s no need to be frightened. I’m not going to hurt you.”
