He grabbed my wrist so tight that I thought my hand might pop off. I was yanked out of the car, dropping my phone to the floor. I look up at him, with nothing but pure terror in my eyes. He knows.
He stomped on my phone, repeatedly until it was in tiny bits. Each time his foot connected with the floor I thought the concrete might break in half, and we’d fall through the earth. Every vein in his body pulsed with anger.
“Chris,” I say, trying to coax him not to hurt me.
He didn’t want to hear it; he dragged me up the driveway. I screamed with everything I had, hoping to alert someone nearby, maybe a driver. Nobody heard me before we were closed behind the Church’s doors. On the stage, I finally notice this chair that looked like a thrown, but more subtle. It was mounted to the floor, probably built into the church. He sits me down and ties me to it with some nearby braided rope. Both of my hands are bound to each arm rest, and I finally stopped squirming, and cursing.
“I want to tell you a story.” He stated, trying to stay calm. I don’t say anything to him, and I look out the window to avoid looking at his face. He makes me sick.
“I’m sure you remember my romantic gesture, when I lead you here with those glorious white roses. I was afraid someone was going to pick them up before you could get to them, but everything went as planned— until, you got here. I was here, I planned on coming out from behind my mask, and professing my love for you. The video . . .” He chuckled. “The video was just the icing on the cake. But you didn’t react how I wanted you to. You threw a fit, and stormed out, taking my precious video with you. I watched you as you left, then, having to reevaluate my plans.” I turned to look at him; he was laying on one of the front benches, looking up at the ceiling as if he was telling a lullaby to a child. “I thought once I explained everything to you that day that you’d be happy. But you had to go and ruin it. So, I tried and reach out to you again, with the pictures on your walls, but you didn’t like those either. When I stood in your doorway that day, I saw how upset you were, so I decided to wait and try again. You know, I really thought that you would like that shrine.”
“Do you want to know what I thought about your “shrine” to me?” I asked. He looked up at me with genuine interest in his eyes. He nodded like a hungry kid wanting sweets.
“I thought it was sadistic. I hated everything about it, including the person who made it.” And then, forgive me lord, I spat at him in a church. My saliva didn’t reach him, but he knows it was meant for him.
“Katarina,” He tsked. “You really don’t know what this is about? Not only love, which is indeed a big part of it, but things didn’t go as planned.” He admitted.
“I know, you said that already.”
“No, I mean all along, the original plan, the whole Marie situation.” Now I was furious, but all I did was cry. Hearing him say my sister’s name, it lit a certain fire.
“Tell me,” I pleaded, glassy eyed. He shook his head.
“You’ll soon know about everyone’s involvement in due time.”
If I wanted to know the truth about what happened, I’d have to abide by everything he wanted. I hated how everything was a grand plan with him, and how everything was a mystery, and had to come out just like that.
Out of nowhere, he left. My eyes longed after him, not wanting him to leave me, but I didn’t voice it. I let him walk right out of those church doors and admired how he didn’t look back.
Chapter 22
I have no idea how long I’ve been here. I’ve watched the sunset, and then rise again. It’s been up for a while now, so I presume I’ve been here, alone, for about twenty-seven hours. No food, and no water. I tried to use my time wisely, plotting a way out, or to try and cry for help. I must say, for the first five hours, I was screaming, and crying simultaneously, hoping someone would hear.
In my time here, I noticed there’s a podium, supplied with a cup, holding a permanent marker, highlighter, and a pen. On the side of it, there is more rope. Not much else, so this isn’t his hide-out, it was just a place.
My stomach has developed a distinct sound that I didn’t like. It was so loud. A different kind of starvation. It was hard to even swallow my own salvia because the air combined with the draft in this place was so dry. I had to yawn to keep the moisture going in my eyes, for some reason they felt like they were covered in sand.
Chris burst through the door, my head was down, but I heard him. It was a sound that I’ve been waiting for and played over in my head a thousand times. He untied me, but I hadn’t moved. I felt his fingers feel around my hair, and down my cheek bones. He eases his way to my chin from my jaw line, tilting my head up.
“We have to go,” He says softly. “Things are getting pretty heated back at the apartment.” He helps me stand, and I did what I’ve been waiting to do since the moment he left. I kick him in the groin and push him off stage. While he tries to regain himself, I run, and grab the permanent marker that I saw earlier. I wanted to write “Kate” on the stage floor, but I only had time for “K”, before he drags me off the stage. The last leg of the “K” followed me, until I dropped the marker. I hit my head on the floor before he scooped me up and threw me over his shoulder.
I hit, scratched at his back, kicked, and screamed. He was in a different car this time; he was in a huge van with two back doors that opened into a trunk-like situation. He threw me in, no mercy, and slammed the doors behind me, emerging me into darkness. I catch my breath for a second, staring up at blackness. Then, I sit up, watching Chris in the front seat swear at himself, and begin to drive off.
He looks back at me, fury in his eyes. “Don’t make me tie you up back there.” He yelled. He realized his tone, breathed, and then continued. “Blind fold her,” He said to someone. I hadn’t even noticed that someone was in the back with me, and before I could look around for them, I was tackled and blindfolded. That person climbed up to the front. They never spoke, but I can tell they were female. I could tell by how small her hands were, and I could smell a hint of perfume.
“Nice perfume,” I croak, scooting myself back to the wall of the van for balance.
“I’m dropping you off, get everything ready for us. Don’t know how long we’ll be, but I’ll contact you when we’re coming.” He said. The female in this equation didn’t say anything, I was hoping that she would, but soon, after about an hour of driving, we stopped, and I guess she got out.
We started driving again. He did a sequence of turns; I could tell he was trying to throw me off, so I wouldn’t know where we were going. A good ten minutes later we were pulling over again. Chris got out, opened the back doors, and gently helped me out of the van. He removed the blindfold.
I look around, readjusting my vision. We were in an alley way, secluded and quiet.
He holds my wrist firm, but not too tight, and helps me into the passenger seat. The stench of the perfume still lingered. I watched him as he went around the van and got into the car himself. I looked over at him, in a curious way, my brows furrowed.
“Buckle up,” He says, buckling himself up. I buckle up, but not because he told me to, but because I thought he was going to try and drive me off a cliff. Though, I suppose if he did that, I would die either way. He stared at me, until I returned his gaze.
“I love you,” He says. He waits for me to say something, and when I don’t, he continues. “I would never want to intentionally hurt you. You mean the world to me, always have.” Always have lingers in my mind, until he keeps talking. “I could tie you up and yank you everywhere for the rest of your life, but that wouldn’t be fun.” No shit.
“I want you to love me, and live with me, willingly.” He continued. He picked up a bottle of water that was half empty and gave it to me. It was an awkwar
d gesture, between him wanting to feed it to me, and me trying to take the bottle. In the end, I took the bottle, and drunk it in one gulp.
After I was done, I realize there was only one way to get what I wanted in the long run, the truth, and to escape, of course. If willing Katarina was what he wanted, willing Katarina was what he was going to get.
“I overreacted, I’m sorry.” The words coming out of my mouth felt like acid bursting through my teeth, and onto my lap. “We had something. I was just too scared to explore it. I can give us a shot under a few conditions.” I bribe. His eyes opened wide like he was a deer in headlights, I don’t think he expected me to be so forward.
“Anything,” He pleaded. I thought about it for a second, though, I knew what I wanted. I just loved the feeling of having the upper hand.
“The first thing is . . . I want you to tell me the entire truth, not only about what happened, but about anything in the future.” He nodded, it seemed simple enough. “You’re not allowed to hit me or hurt anyone else in my family.” He agreed. That was all I could think of. “I have more, but let’s see how you do with the first two.” I try and play it off. He smiled as he started the car and began driving.
I’d say I felt a bit safer now that we were both dangling strings, but I didn’t. We drove in silence for what seemed like forever. I believe we drove out of town.
We arrived in the middle of nowhere; I didn’t recognize anything around us. He got out, let me out, and took my hand.
“Let’s go,” He voiced. We held hands, the entire time. I hated it, every minute of it. We walked down a long, abandoned road, and turned into a warehouse. “I built you a house, this isn’t it, my cousin went to set it up for us, but we’ll be staying here for a while. We need to get to know each other, no— you need to get to know me, and what’s happening before we take that step.”
We walk into this abandoned warehouse, and I learned it’s far from abandoned. There was a couch, a side table, a television, a floor lamp, and some old newspapers scattered everywhere. My photographs were tacked to the walls and scattered on top of a table. This, not the church, was his hideout—his “lair”.
A noise from behind scared me. I jump, turning to see Chris bolting the door shut. Just because I said I’d stay willingly doesn’t mean he trusts me, I guess. There must be ten different locks I saw him locking and securing. When he was done, he stood next to me like a newlywed couple, checking out their new house.
“It’s a bit of a mess but its fine for now.” He shrugged, stepping further into the warehouse. “All of the windows are sealed on the first and second floor, but way up on the third, a few are out. Those windows, of course are closed off with wood.” He’s basically telling me if I try and escape, the only way out is to beat my way through a blocked off window and jump three floors. I smile and follow him.
He sits on the couch. I could see in the candlelight as he flopped down that the couch was unworn, as dust flew around him. I sneezed twice before, joining him on the couch.
“I have something for you,” He said, getting up and walking to one of the dark corners of the room. He messed with something and came back with a bottle of water.
“Thanks,” I said, slowly. I just wasn’t sure if I wanted to live like this, I’m not sure if I’m strong enough. “Now,” I say, getting down to business. “Let’s talk about Marie,” I suggest.
He stared at me for a good sixty seconds, before he nodded. “I’ll tell you a little bit at a time.” I nodded. We had to meet somewhere.
“I’ll start at the very beginning, with me.” I nod, though, I could care less about him; I wanted to hear about Marie.
“When I was younger, about six, my mom had got into some bad things. She was addicted to drugs, and alcohol. Sometimes, because of her inner demon, she tried hurting herself a numerous amount of times. I could tell she wanted to stop, especially in those moments when I’d see her throwing up, and she’d look back at me, teary eyed. She’d apologize and crawl to shut the door on me. One day, I found a movie, Shadow Keeper, it was scary and demented, and I loved it. I watched it from when I woke up to when I went to sleep, because it was the only movie we had. I’ve seen that movie so much, that I knew every single word, in a way, you could say that I studied it.” He says.
I think back to when I’d seen the movie, only once. The first night I watched the movie, Chris contacted me for the first time. Chills ran up my spine, though, that could be just because it’s freezing in here.
“She eventually succeeded in trying to hurt herself. She bled out, after cutting both of her wrists. To be honest I think she was murdered. But since she had cuts on her wrists and legs, and had the blade in her hand, they ruled it a suicide. I was only nine when she died, it messed me up.” There was an awkward pause, as if he wanted me to say something, but also didn’t. I hope he didn’t want me to feel sorry for him. Oh, that’s okay you murdered my sister; you lost your mom at a young age. So, you don’t have to go to jail for committing murder and kidnap.
I was wondering if what he did was even kidnap, considering I walked out of there on my own, willingly. It’s kidnapping, end of discussion.
My vision started to blur, and I felt the room spinning. I looked down at the water bottle in my hand and begin to back up. I look at Chris with tears in my eyes. “You drugged me,” I cried. Chris smiled, got up, and laid me down on the couch. My hands were crossed at my stomach. The last thing I saw before blackness, was the devil himself.
Chapter 23
When I woke up, I couldn’t tell if it was night, or the next day, or even how long I’d been down. My headache resembled someone who slept for days.
I jump up in panic, before I realize where I was. I was still a bit off-balance, but I quickly regained it as my eyes landed on Chris. I wanted to charge at him, to attack him, and hurt him, but my body did the opposite. I sat back down. He was standing over where my pictures were tacked to the walls, staring at them. “Chris,” I breathe, trying to stay calm. “How long was I out?” I asked.
“Just overnight, I hope you finally got some good rest.” He shrugged, turning to look at me.
“I wasn’t tired,” I exclaimed. Chris clutched his jaw, but he didn’t move. Note to self: Chris doesn’t like to be yelled at. Update: Don’t give a fuck.
I know that I said that I would stay willingly, which was a tactic to stop him from binding me. But if its not tying me up, it’s drugging me. My new plan is that I try and get the entire story out of him, and then escape. That may be tomorrow, or it may be next week. I just feel too much like a . . . prisoner.
I get up and walk towards Chris as he tries to calm himself down. “Tell me the rest of the story,” I say, touching his elbow. The instant I touched him, I regretted it, but my hand stayed. He leaned against the wall and started to speak.
“Then, there was this,” He said, going to dig into a bag. He took a VHS tape off the corner of the table and handed it to me. The side of the tape read: MARIE’S FOURTH BIRTHDAY!
So, obviously he went through my apartment and took this tape. I can’t believe Chelsea let him in. My grip on the tape got a bit tight, but my face didn’t show any sign of emotion. “What’s this have to do with anything?” I said, biting my lip.
“I was there,” He said, grabbing the tape from me, looking at it sentimentally. “The boy that kept messing with you, was me, and that was the first time I met you.” I blinked my eyes to try and process what the hell he was talking about. He stepped closer to me, but I step back. I tried playing it off by going to sit on the couch.
“I went through the system and every single foster parent I had, had given me back up in under six months. They didn’t want me. Fortunately for me, they found that I had a relative. She was financially stable, had kids, and wanted me too. Aunt Linda, she didn’t turn me down, and neither did my kid cousins. I was closer to one of the kids than the other, the girl. She played with me, and when I showed her my favorite movie of all time, she didn’t judge m
e. We were a family. My aunt wanted us to make some friends, so she sent us down the block to a birthday party. Apparently, my aunt and your mom couldn’t sort things out for us to stay, so we left.”
“What does my mom have to do with this?” I asked him.
“Your mom is the reason Marie is dead. I blame your mom for . . . everything.” His tone got more aggressive and he started to move closer to me.
“Watch your mouth, Chris,” I say, starting to remember what I did to Brent, once I thought he’d involved my mom.
He sat beside me, “You’d blame her too, if you knew.” Chris exclaimed.
“Then, tell me,” I said, returning his tone. He stands up and punches the wall. He screams in pain, and does it again, this time harder.
“Chris!” I scream, “Stop!” I have no idea why I tried to stop him. I couldn’t care less if he broke his hand. But something in me wanted him to stop, maybe he was scaring me, maybe he was too loud, and I still had a headache. I just wanted everything to stop.
He didn’t stop; I got up and pushed him, still not thinking of the reasoning for my actions. He still didn’t stop, so I pushed him harder, harder, and harder. At this point, both of our voices were echoing through the entire building, making me fear that the building would collapse under pressure.
Out of nowhere, he grabs me tight by the shoulders, and pushes me against the wall. He stares at me, looking deep into my eyes. Suddenly, he kisses me.
Did I kiss back? No. Did I try and push him away? No, I just cried instead. All I could think about was how he was once a positive thing in my life. Now he is the negative thing that has done negative things to me, deliberately.
When he pulled away, I felt a sharp pain in my bottom lip. I rub at it and pull away with blood. Licking the blood away, I run away from him. I go through a series of hallways, and up a flight of stairs that I stumbled into. I kept going until there weren’t any more stairs, and I realize I had made it to the fifth floor. I almost tripped on the last stair, as I leap off the staircases with burning legs.