by R A Doty
Despite trying to completely alter his personality, there would always be a part of Brian buried deep inside. It came out at random intervals but faded as fast as it appeared. He was once walking down an alley when he heard a weak meow coming from a dumpster. When he looked inside the dark steel box, a feral cat curled in the corner stared back at him. Rescuing the animal got him a scratch to the face, but as he watched it run away he was overcome with a small sense of satisfaction. Soon after, he killed a dog and brought it back to the church to be used for food. There was no way of determining what he would do at any given moment. He himself, it seemed, had no control over it. He sometimes felt regret for his actions as he lay in his bed before going to sleep, but it was easy to dismiss that emotion when he thought of the life he once had—when he thought of Shannon. Those thoughts could easily control Brian for days on end without the slightest hint of remorse.
But then Cain’s new world had changed when David walked into the church holding the hand of a small nine-year-old girl. The child’s face was red and obviously distressed, and her entire body trembled with fear—a cat that had been rescued. He studied the girl as David led her down the aisle before stopping at the podium. Such sadness filled the child’s blue eyes. He remembered entering his apartment and finding Shannon’s body. The pain that stabbed his heart. The will to live without her an option he didn’t want to consider. Similar feelings seemed to be hidden behind the child’s eyes. What had happened to her? Did she, too, lose someone she loved? How could she have possibly survived this long on her own?
The child stared down at the floor as David scanned his congregation. After the last of the whispers had silenced, David began to speak. “Brothers and sisters, I stand before you with an innocent soul in need of our help.” David leaned down to the girl. “What’s your name, child?”
The girl’s lip quivered as she tried to speak. She slowly raised her head and looked at the many faces staring back at her. With her heart pounding so hard she felt like she would faint at any moment, she managed to state her name before lowering her head again. “Janette.”
David placed his hand on her back and continued. “Janette is alone in this world and it’s up to us to provide for her until she is old enough and strong enough to do so on her own. In return for our generosity we can only hope that she will provide for us someday as well. This is what makes us strong. Strong enough to take on whatever evil we face. Strong enough to carry out God’s will by doing what we must to abolish Satan’s warriors.”
A voice from the crowd said, “Amen.” Another cried, “Praise, God.”
“Strong enough to survive on the bounty that God provides for us, and to have the courage to eat whatever is necessary to rise above our enemies. To rise above their armies and to stand together when the final day comes for all of us to be judged on our faith alone.” David stared down at the girl; her terror could be felt through his hand as he caressed her back. “So, I ask each and every one of you to accept this child as one of your own and to help her through these trying times.” He looked back at the crowd.
The girl mustered up the courage to raise her head. She studied each and every face staring in her direction, her head slowly scanning from left to right. And then she locked eyes with a man sitting by himself near the back of the church. His hair was dark and short and his face void of emotion. He didn’t move at all, and she briefly wondered if he was real or if she was imagining him. And then he blinked. Still no movement. Just an occasional blink of his eyes. She had to force herself to look away. As the man standing beside her continued to speak, Janette sometimes glanced at the dark-haired man. His position was unchanged, and his eyes were still locked on her. When the man that led her into the church finished speaking to the seated people, her attention was immediately drawn to the dark-haired man when he stood to his feet.
When the man began walking in her direction her first thought was to run, but fear prevented her from doing so. When he stopped in front of her and extended his hand, she slowly raised her arm.
“No!” a woman shouted, standing to her feet. “She’s too young, Cain.” It was one of the two women Cain enjoyed on his first night at the church—the older of the two. The woman rushed up to the front and tried to release the girl’s hand from Cain’s, but Cain pushed her away and she stumbled backward. The woman faced the congregation. “Are we going to allow this? Is this what we’ve become?” She turned to some of the men in the front. “Robert?” The man turned his head. “Jonathan?” He, too, turned away. The woman stared at each and every man seated before her. “Won’t any of you help this poor child?” A cough in the back of the room broke the silence. The woman turned to David. “David, I beg you. Do not allow this.”
Cain started walking away with Janette’s hand held tightly in his. The girl stared back at the woman before vanishing behind a door leading to the hallway.
“Cain means her no harm,” David said to the woman, whose hand was now covering her mouth as she stared at the closed door. Deep inside, David wished that were true, but he could easily assume what evils Cain was capable of. If not for the man’s size and brute strength, Cain would have been one of the sinners David so eagerly sought to abolish. But David needed Cain, and if a sacrifice had to be made to keep him around then so be it.
JANETTE waited quietly in the dimly lit hallway while the large man opened the door. When he motioned her into the room, she walked past him and stopped at the foot of a bed. The bed was neatly made, and a single pillow that matched the floral bedspread lay perfectly centered at the top of the mattress. The man brushed past her and walked into what she assumed was a bathroom. A woman’s bathrobe was draped over the top of the door. Janette’s hands trembled as she crossed them in front of her waist, waiting for what was to come next. As terrified as she was, wondering what the man was going to do to her, it was nothing compared to the horror she had just experienced less than an hour earlier. She tried to hold in her tears, but the memory of the moment forced them out. She raised her hands to her face and sobbed hard with closed eyes. Her legs felt like rubber, and she dropped to her knees.
Cain heard the small chirps coming from the bedroom but thought nothing of it at first. Just the sounds that small girls sometimes make, he assumed. But then it became obvious the girl was crying. He zipped his pants and flushed the toilet. When he got to the bedroom, he was surprised to see the girl bent over onto the floor with her face pressed into her lap. He walked over and reached for her head but pulled his hand back. She looked so young and frail, and to touch her would most certainly break her. The girl continued to cry. He stared around the room, looking for something that might soothe her sadness, but saw nothing. And then he remembered the bottles that were once on top of the dresser. He walked over and opened the top drawer. The first bottle he grabbed was clear and had a strong flowery scent. Roses. He quickly pulled it away from his nose. He reached back into the drawer and pulled out a transparent pink bottle in the shape of what looked like an ice cube. The sugary scent pleased him as he breathed it in deeply. It smelled like something a small girl would like. He slid the drawer shut and walked back to the girl, who was still crouched to the floor. After three taps to the child’s head, she finally looked up at him. Her eyes were puffy and wet, and her face was red. He handed her the bottle and sat on the bed.
Janette sniffled and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. When she turned to the man, he nodded, glancing at the bottle. She took it, pulled off the cap and raised it to her face. It was the most pleasant thing she had smelled in months. She raised it again and took another sniff. It was as if the scent was washing away all of her worries and nothing bad had ever happened. For a moment, she forgot all about her sister. But then she remembered the scent of her sister’s favorite perfume: cotton candy. That’s what the bottle in her hand reminded her of. She placed it on the bed and ran into the bathroom. The door slammed shut.
Cain furrowed his brows. Did the smell offend her? Did it make her il
l? He shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to figure out what a young girl could possibly be thinking. When no other reasons came to mind, he lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. An hour later he awoke to the bathroom door opening.
Chapter Twelve
JANETTE walked out of the bathroom, wiping her nose with a wad of tissues. She needed that time to herself. Time to grieve the loss of her sister. But to grieve was something that needed to end quickly if one was to survive. Now that it was over she was ready to face what life had in store for her. Nothing could possibly be any worse than what she had already been subjected to. She walked over to the bed where the man was now sitting up against the headboard. “What do you want from me?”
Cain studied the girl. She was small but tough, her arms crossed in front of her chest, leaning slightly on one leg. He thought about her question and realized he really didn’t want anything from her. In fact, he wasn’t quite sure why he brought her into his room. Perhaps she reminded him of the small girl he knocked over in the hallway while trying to escape from the island-city. If one looked closely, you might have even seen a slight smile forming in the corner of his mouth. Of all the people that he had met since joining the church, none had the courage to stand up to him like this tiny girl was now doing.
“Well?” the girl said. “What do you want? I don’t care anymore, so I’ll do whatever you want.” She waited for an answer that never came. “I know your name is Cain. I heard them call you that.” The longer she stood, the angrier she became. “Can you please tell me what you want, or are we gonna stay here all day staring at each other?”
In order to mask his smile, Cain had no choice but to slide off the bed. He grabbed the girl and sat her on the mattress. Her face looked terrified, and he felt bad for frightening her. He wanted to know her story and what brought her to the church, but asking questions was something he could never do again, at least not verbally. He remembered seeing a pad and pencil in the dresser drawer, but he wasn’t in the mood to get into why he couldn’t speak. Maybe in the future he would feel comfortable telling his story to somebody, but for now the thought of his past just filled him with rage. He walked to the door, and before opening it he pointed at the girl as if telling a dog to stay. He then left the room and headed for the kitchen.
Janette was disappointed she never got her answer. Was he toying with her? She sat on the bed, as expected, for all of five minutes. After that, she took it upon herself to explore the room. She opened every one of the drawers in the dresser and examined their contents. A pink blouse caught her eye, so she held it against her chest, studying her image in the mirror. It was too big. She put it back and pulled out a pair of light blue, satin pajamas. They, too, were probably too big, but to feel the slippery material against her skin would be heavenly. But she was filthy and to put such material against such filth would be a sin. She remembered seeing a shower in the bathroom and hoped with all her heart it worked. She grabbed the pajamas, shut the drawer and headed for the bathroom. She smiled when she turned the faucet and water spurted from the pipe high on the wall. When she removed her clothes, and stepped into the shower, a sudden thought entered her head: she couldn’t remember the last time hot water had splashed against her skin. Her and her sister had bathed regularly with cold water, but to completely cover her body with hot water and soap was a memory that had long vanished. Every wipe of the washcloth cleansed away another bad memory. It was time to move on and forget the past as quickly as possible. It was nothing new to her. She had to do it when her parents died, and now it was time again with her sister being murdered just hours earlier. She somehow came to accept it as a part of life. There were no more little-girl dreams, just thoughts of surviving.
After washing away a crappy life of bad memories, Janette turned off the shower and opened the glass door. The room’s temperature felt like winter air against her pale skin. She shrieked at the sight of a man standing in the bathroom doorway.
“Well ain’t you a pretty little thing,” the man said.
Janette covered as much of her body as she could with her arms.
“I guess Cain’s finished with you for now, so now it’s my turn.” He walked closer while unbuckling his pants. “I promise not to be as rough as he probably was.”
Janette stepped back into the shower and slammed the door. She squeezed her fists with her back pushed tight against the cold tile wall.
“You can run but you can’t hide, sweetie.”
Janette waited for the door to open, her heart throbbing in her throat. She jumped when a dark figure slammed against the outside of the opaque glass. He’s angry and he punched the door. With her arms raised up to her chest, and her fist pressed tight to her teeth, her entire body trembled uncontrollably. At any moment, he would open the door and drag her from the shower. It was going to happen, and she had to prepare herself for it. Just do whatever he wants and he won’t hurt me. Before long it’ll be over. She then heard a cracking sound, followed by a loud thump. Her breathing quickened when the door slowly opened. An arm appeared, holding a towel. The arm shook the towel until she grabbed it. The door closed.
After drying off, Janette wrapped the towel around her and stepped out of the shower. The bathroom was empty. He must be waiting in the bedroom. She peeked around the doorframe and saw Cain sitting on the bed with a plate of food on his lap. A trail of blood started from just outside the bathroom and ended underneath the door leading to the hallway. It didn’t take long for her to realize what had happened; she was officially Cain’s property. Cain patted the mattress and grabbed a second plate of food. After carefully stepping around the blood, Janette did as he instructed and sat on the mattress. She took the plate he was offering. It looked like meatloaf and potatoes and the aroma was fabulous. She hadn’t eaten a decent meal in a long time, so there was no hesitation for her to begin. After satisfying her initial craving for food, Janette slowed down enough to try to communicate again, although manners were a thing of the past so talking with a full mouth was now acceptable.
“So, are you ever going to talk to me?” she asked, licking her fingers.
Cain glanced at her, but only briefly.
“What’d you do to that guy in the bathroom?”
Again, no response. Just the sound of chewing. Cain grabbed a bottle of wine and took a swig. He then handed the bottle to Janette, who stared dumbfounded before slowly accepting it.
“You know, I’m way too young to be drinking alcohol. You can get in trouble for offering this to me.”
Cain smiled. It felt good to smile, and he didn’t try to hide it. Hell, he couldn’t have hidden it if he wanted to. The thought of getting into any more trouble than he’d already been in was more than humorous, it was downright laughable, and he would have laughed if he could. He nodded for Janette to take a sip. When she hesitated, he nodded again, more forcefully. Another smile formed after seeing the expression on Janette’s face when the wine hit her tongue. God, he wanted to laugh out loud, just one more time.
“That is so gross!” Janette said, her face puckered into a mass of disgust. “How can you drink that? It’s horrible.” But drink it she did. Slowly at first, but after each sip it didn’t taste as bad. It made everything magically better. Instead of wanting to cry, she couldn’t stop laughing. Another sip made it even better than the last. Sure, a tear came if she thought too much, but it was soon replaced with more laughter. It was the best medicine she had ever tasted. She handed the bottle back to Cain, who took a big gulp. Janette watched in amazement at how much he drank at once. She reached for the bottle, and he gave it back to her. With a half-smile, and a quick glance at Cain as if asking for his approval, which he gladly gave with a nod, she pushed the bottle to her lips and didn’t pull it away until the remainder of it was gone. With water-filled eyes, and a loud gasp for air, she dropped the bottle on the bed. The wine had certainly burnt a hole in her throat and at any moment was about to dribble from the hole and onto her chest. She pressed her closed fis
t to her mouth so her guts didn’t fly out and then let out the loudest burp she had ever made. It lasted forever, and even Cain had to stare with widened eyes and mouth agape. When it ended, Janette laughed hysterically and only stopped when she heard the loud hissing and growling coming from Cain. It was a horrible sound that only a beast could have made. She stared at the man beside her, expecting to be eaten by him at any moment.
Cain tried to catch his breath, and with closed eyes he tilted his head back trying to contain the humor that forced itself out of his stomach and up into his throat. But when he opened his eyes, the humor turned to horror when he looked at Janette, who was leaning back onto her hands trying to put as much distance between them as possible. He never should have allowed Brian to surface, even for a moment. There was no longer humor in this world, and he had to remember that or he would become vulnerable to the pain that life could so easily bring back to him. All expression left his face, and with one swift swing of his arm both plates that sat on the mattress sailed across the room and smashed into the wall. The empty wine bottle became his next target, and it too was airborne until bouncing off the bathroom door and breaking onto the floor at the foot of the bed.
Janette curled into a fetal position. She buried her head into her lap and clasped her hands tight behind her head. There was little chance of surviving, but at least she wouldn’t see it coming when he killed her. Her breathing came in quick gasps, and all she could hope is that it would end soon and she wouldn’t suffer, as her sister must have. What pain Amy must have endured before she died. Did they tear her to shreds or did they at least kill her before consuming her flesh? I deserve to die for leaving her behind, she thought, and welcomed the idea. When she opened her eyes, and removed her hands from her head, Cain was gone. She turned to scan the room, but he was nowhere in sight. She ran to the bathroom but it, too, was empty. She dropped to her knees and cried in her hands. Poor Amy. I’m so sorry.
