Lana's Awakening

by Kristin Elyon

  Of course, he rarely gave the store the attention which might have been expected when she was there anyway. Instead, he usually spent his shift trying to come up with reasons to go by her department. He would even grab some of the wooden toothpicks she used to give customers samples, even digging them out of the trash can when necessary on occasions when she was busy with a customer, only to bring them back later, making up some shit about he found them on the floor in his department, anything to talk to her. But now, she wasn’t there, and it was worse than anything he could imagine.

  He had to get out of there; he couldn’t think. Hell, he couldn’t fucking breathe. His Blueness would just have to find someone else to cover for him. He was undoubtedly going to throw a fit about it, since they were already shorthanded, but Sergio didn’t care about what Ron thought or said, not now especially. If Ron was any kind of manager at all, he would have shut the store down and made everyone spend their eight hours looking for Lana, but he was a clown, a useless fucking clown. Sergio didn’t have time for clowns, not with Lana gone, and he sure as hell didn’t have time for Goddamn ties.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The constant grinding of metal on metal had been annoying, but at least she knew she did not have to worry about him coming into the room and catching her, but then it stopped. She stopped moving and lay there quietly, listening. If he had heard her moving around from the other room, he would be in there quickly. It still surprised her she hadn’t seen him sooner, but he was cooking; she could hear the pans rattling occasionally and even behind her locked door, she could smell bacon. Goddamn it smelled good. She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten.

  It had been pure torture as she had waited earlier, but she didn’t want to risk getting started and have him walk in at a bad time, while she was trying to get free. That would be a shit storm she didn’t want to get caught out in.

  And me without my umbrella.

  Shut up.

  She had waited until she had heard him making all the noise in the kitchen, and had convinced herself she might be able to get free in time to… well, to do something, anything. If she could get free, she might be able to surprise him enough when he came in to get away. And once she was able to get the blindfold off, she might even be able to find something in the room which would pass as a weapon of some sort.

  But when she heard the footsteps coming toward the door, she knew she was in trouble, but the point of no return had already been breached. She couldn’t stop, not now. She pulled feverishly at the restraints binding her hands but they wouldn’t budge. With one leg loose, she was able to twist her body somewhat, allowing more leverage, so she pulled with everything she had against whatever held her remaining foot and thought she felt it giving. It hurt like hell, but she still held no doubt she would feel much worse if she was unable to escape. Had she really allowed herself to see kindness in his voice the day before? Perhaps, but she still was not going to make the mistake of trusting her life to that moment of weakness.

  When she heard the lock on the door release, she was at a most pivotal point, her hips twisted against the binding on her ankle and her hands grasping the edges of the bed. Goddamn it, why hadn’t he tied her hands behind her head, to the headboard like a normal fucker. It would have allowed more leverage, as she could have pulled with her arms as well as her hips. But no, he had them tied beside her, and if anything, it was working against her as she tried to free her other foot.

  She had first tried to free her hands, but had found nothing remotely resembling any sort of success. Whatever held her was wrapped around her wrist in a way that when she pulled on it, it tightened, like a noose, or a slip knot. The way she saw it, her only hope had been to free her legs first, then she would be able to pull her feet up under her body, allowing her to possibly reach one of the restraints with her mouth. It didn’t feel like leather or metal, so her thinking was that it was a cloth of some sort. A secondary hope had been if she could get her feet free, perhaps she could get one of them between her hand and the place the restraint was tied. It would hurt like hell, might even break her wrist, but with enough leverage, she might be able to free a hand, and that meant everything; it meant freedom. She had to try; she had to get out of…

  “What the fuck!”

  She had forgotten the door in her hysterical attempt to free her other foot, and never heard it open. She jumped when he shouted, but all she could do was continue her efforts. The way she saw it, she would never be allowed to get this close to freedom again, so it was now or never. She felt a sharp pain in her ankle and felt what she believed to be the restraint giving. She pulled harder, twisting her hips at the same time, jerking violently against what held her.

  “What the fuck are you doing?!”

  This too went unanswered as she continued her struggle more ferociously than before. She had heard him, she knew he was already in the room, but she was not about to give up now, not so close to freedom. The wetness on her ankle told her she was bleeding, and this allowed even more hope to seep in as she reasoned it would help her efforts, making her ankle slide through more easily. So, she pulled harder. So focused were her efforts, she never heard him crossing the floor. Somewhere in her mind, she knew he had to be near by now, but nothing mattered but getting her foot free.

  The glass shattered on the wall above her head and rained down her, mixed with something hot and wet. She froze as she realized he had thrown something at her, but her paralysis would not be permanent. When she felt his hands on her hip, pulling her fully back onto her back, she grabbed the momentum and used it, swinging her free foot blindly above her hip and connecting solidly against the side of what felt like his ribs.

  “You fucking bitch,” he growled, stepping far enough away from her that her continued kicks found nothing but air. But she kicked just the same. If he got close enough, she wanted him to pay. But he had moved up the bed closer to her head and she was not even close to him as she continued to kick wildly.

  He might have expected her to stop when he slapped her hard across the face, but it only infuriated her more, and she kicked harder still. A second slap was enough to snap her back into a more subdued state, causing the tears which had begun to flow out of anger to flow harder as pain was added to the mix. But she stopped kicking now, her efforts switched from escape to retreat, as she did the best she could to curl up in defense. She sobbed openly, too spent to struggle with any conviction, as he returned her foot to its formerly unmoving place and secured it tighter than before.

  “What do you want from me?” she managed, though it was barely discernable through her weeping.

  “What do I want?” His voice had lowered, and though she could hear he was trying to mask his anger, it was still there. “For starters, it would be nice if you would show just the slightest appreciation.”

  “What?” she managed.

  Had she heard him right? Appreciation? She was about to say more but was unable, as he shoved something forcefully over, and into her mouth. She tried to turn her head, but he grabbed her hair tightly and forced the back of her head deep into the pillow below her, holding it in place, all the while hitting her mouth painfully with handfuls of what she was certain was what had been on the plate he had thrown at her earlier. Little was making its way into her mouth, but the force of his hand hitting her hurt like hell. She could feel her lips swelling and was completely convinced they were bleeding. She struggled to speak, to plead with him, but was unable to get any words out between the attacks.

  “Here’s your fucking breakfast.”

  His voice sounded strained and forced as he spoke, but he quit hitting her. She heard him walk toward the door and slam it shut as he left the room, leaving her there in the mess he had created with her breakfast. She managed to spit out most of what had found its way into her mouth, feeling the pain intensify on her lips. She was in fact bleeding, she now knew, perhaps badly, as she felt the warmth of the blood on her cheeks and chin. She sobbed loudly as the d
awning realization she would probably die here on this bed gripped her mind tighter than the restraints on her wrists. Her anguish would soon be answered, as the door slammed hard against the wall and he entered the room again, crossing the room quickly and deliberately.

  “Plea…”

  But it was all she managed before the tape hit her mouth tightly. She heard the familiar ripping sound more times than she could keep up with, as he repeatedly tore another piece from the roll and slammed it across her face wildly, covering food, hair and blood as well in a frenzied fury. Each piece came down harder and harder and she could hear his breath become labored as he continued to ensure her silence. Every sob that escaped her mouth seemed to enrage him more, but she couldn’t keep them from crossing her injured lips. When he did finally stop, what seemed like an eternity later, she felt him sit beside her on the side of the bed.

  “You will learn to appreciate what I am doing for you,” he said quietly, clearly out of breath. “But right now, I can’t even look at you.”

  With that, he crossed the room and left again. She didn’t expect him to return anytime soon and she welcomed the loneliness. She was definitely in some serious trouble. Any doubt of that was now gone.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Sergio stood beside his car and stared blankly at the mailbox beside the front door of the white, two-story home. He had driven to Lana’s house the night before and she hadn’t been home then, so he thought he would try again, but still her car was gone. He had almost convinced himself Ol’ Ron had actually been right for once in his life and she had found another job. But that was then, and this was now. Now, he saw a mailbox overflowing with mail. Sure it looked to be mostly junk mail, but it sure as hell was more than one day’s worth of junk.

  Don’t be stupid, his mind told him, trying to make some sort of sense to the entire thing. She might have had to leave town for a couple days, a family emergency of some sort.

  Sure, it made sense, but surely she would have called someone before she left, surely. Surely, she would have…

  What call you?

  No, of course not, but she would have called work at least. She wasn’t the type to just take off like that. But at the same time, he wasn’t naïve. They were good friends, but he knew he would not be the first person she thought of in a bad situation. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and stared at. It still wouldn’t ring, no matter how hard he tried to make it, so he pulled her number up out of his contacts and called her again. Straight to voice mail. That was the oddest thing about it. Sure, yesterday, when it was just ringing with no answer, it was frustrating, but ever since the night before it had been going straight to that stupid fucking recording... “The number you called has not set up a voice mail; goodbye.”

  He wanted to throw his own phone onto the pavement in her driveway and scream, but he wouldn’t. No, instead he would keep calling her, no matter how long it took for her to answer. If she had gotten to the point she wanted to leave everything behind, him included, or even him especially, she was going to have to tell him herself. He shoved the Nokia back into his pocket and walked up the steps to her front door, and just as he had done the night before, he hit the doorbell repeatedly before banging on the door itself as hard as he dared. Just in case, he told himself, just in case she was asleep.

  Sure, she’s asleep. She tucked a fucking Ford Ranger under her pillow and is grabbing a few Z’s. Sure.

  The car could be anywhere, he reasoned. Hell, a flat tire, a wreck. The thought hit him hard and he instantly caught his breath. Shit! She could have been in an accident. Dear God, she could be laid up in a hospital, or worse. Shit! He sprinted off of the porch, clearing every step, and pulling his phone back out of his pocket as he ran to his car. As he opened the door and dove in, he had already hit 9-1-1, and as the door closed behind him, he searched for his keys with one hand and hit the send button with the other.

  The conversation was a lesson in retarded redundancy. The bitch on the other end, some crazy lady with the worst attitude he had ever heard, told him the number was for emergencies only, sending him into a rage. He tried to explain how dire he believed the situation to be, but it mattered little to Officer Bitch. He was told to call the non emergency number. When he asked if she could connect him, she informed him she wasn’t an operator and hung up. Then why the hell did she answer the fucking phone?

  Black marks now adorned Lana’s driveway, as did the street in front of her house, as Sergio raced across town to the hospital, hoping beyond hope he would find her there. He couldn’t bring himself to even think of the next place he would have to search for her.

  “Dear God, let her be ok.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Her lips still stung like a mother fucker. The bastard had hit her hard, splitting both lips, but the bottom one had been worse than the top. Every time she adjusted her mouth to wet her lips or even to grimace in pain, she could feel it threatening to open up again. But what was worse, and even worse than the stinging on her upper cheek, was the need to urinate. She had to go worse than she could remember ever needing to go. What she’d give for a toilet was not worth mentioning, even to herself. She tested the restraints again, but it was no good. They were as tight as ever. The blood on her ankle she had once hoped would aid her in her escape had now dried, creating an opposite effect.

  She had eventually swallowed the few morsels of the breakfast which had been shoved into her mouth and she hadn’t gotten a chance to spit out before he had come in with the tape, but it had done little to quiet her hunger. What was worse, she could still smell the fucking bacon. Its scent filled the room, mocking her relentlessly. But even it paled in comparison to the pain of trying to hold her water. In all truth, she wasn’t sure why she was holding it at all. After all the son of a bitch had done to her, what she was certain he would eventually do to her, why should she give a flying fuck about his fucking sheets? The final straw was the bacon, the Goddamn bacon. She could kill two birds with one stone, empty her bladder and cover the scent of that damn bacon. Why the fuck not? What was he going to do, hit her? She doubted she had felt the last of his anger anyway.

  “I want to tell you something.”

  She jumped when he spoke. She had no idea he had been in the room, or how long he had been there. She hadn’t heard the door, hadn’t felt the bed move, but she was quite certain he was sitting beside her.

  Three birds, maybe you can piss on him at the same time.

  Maybe, but the urge had been pushed out of her mind immediately when she realized he was back in the room. She started to answer him, but nothing came out but a mumble. “What" sounded more like “mmm” under the tape which covered her mouth. What was worse, she felt the lip split again. He answered her as though he knew what she had meant, just the same.

  “I did not want to hurt you earlier,” he said. His voice had returned to the even tone from before. “But you are going to have to learn. It might not be something you want to do, but you are no longer allowed to make those decisions.”

  Well, no shit. If she had any choice at all, she sure as hell wouldn’t be here, not with this prick. She could think of a million other places she’d rather be, without even trying. He continued without any indication he knew what she was thinking, or that she even had an opinion.

  “I had first hoped this would go smoother, that you would recognize my kindness,” he said, “that you would want to please me. You would have been rewarded quickly and to a much greater extent. But you don’t yet realize I am helping you, so we are going to do this in another way.”

  He was helping her, seriously? This guy was off his fucking rocker. He continued:

  “From now on, I am going to lay out the rules for each and every moment. It will be give and take,” he said, rising from the bed. “Before, you were good, so I removed the tape, but you didn’t recognize the connection at all, did you?”

  He paused for her to respond as if she could speak with the tape on her mouth. She had no
idea where this was headed, what kind of sick twisted game he was playing, but she needed to hear what he was intending. It might buy her some time, or even better, her life. So she nodded her head to indicate she had not recognized whatever connection he was talking about.

  “So, from now on, I will tell you what I expect and what will happen if you comply,” he said, as she heard him moving something up from the table beside the bed. “I will also tell you what will happen if you choose not to comply. Do you understand this?”

  Hell no, she didn’t understand, but she nodded her head just the same.

  “Good. I am going to remove the tape now. You will not say a word unless I ask you a question, and then you will answer only with yes or no, as there will be no other options. Do you understand?”

  Lana nodded.

  “If you say so much as a word other than yes or no to my question, you will be punished more severely than you were this morning. Do you understand?”

  Again she nodded, though now she was beginning to wonder if there was any way this could be better than death.

  “Do you want to know what the punishment will be?”

  No, she didn’t want to hear it. She could imagine how bad it would be, given the indication it would be worse than before. She was still reeling from that. She moved her head from side to side slowly.

  “Very well then,” he said, and she felt one of his hands on her cheek as he took hold of the edge of the mass of duct tape. Her lips screamed with the pain as the dried blood on her lips was pulled free along with the tape. She began to scream, but managed to stop herself at the last possible second.

  Worse than before, that’s what he said.