The Darkness We Hide

When she awoke again Michelle felt ill. She was shivering, from cold or sickness, she couldn’t tell. Looking around through fever blurred eyes, she could see very little of her surroundings. She was in a dark room, wrapped in a filthy down comforter, lying on a mattress set on the bare concrete floor.

Her left arm was in a splint from wrist to elbow, and her ribs were wrapped tightly in rags which made it hard to breath.

When she tried to move, she found that her ankles were shackled together and a chain ran from them to a bolt in the wall. Looking around, she could see very little else, aside from the light hanging directly above her, the room was in complete darkness.

Slowly, she tried to stand, but a bolt of pain from her left leg caused her to fall back onto the mattress. Her left knee was severely bruised, as if it had been crushed by the impact on her door, and dried blood was smeared around several cuts up and down her leg.

A clanging sound announced the entrance of someone into her dark prison. Squinting to see, Michelle watched as Richard, carrying a large tray, came into the light.

“You’re up,” he said happily, his voice almost singing.

“Richard,” she rasped through chattering teeth. “What’s going on?”

“Well, my dear,” he said cheerfully. “We’re celebrating.”

He placed the tray down and Michelle could see a cup of water, a bottle of pills, several rolls of bandages, and two hypodermic needles.

“What happened?” Michelle asked, eyeing the tray.

“Oh darling,” Richard said, sitting down on the floor across from her. “You had a little accident.”

He reached out and gingerly touched her forehead. “Sorry about that, but I didn’t want you going back to him.”

“Why would you do that?” Michelle asked, tears rolling down her cheek.

“Because,” Richard said, anger and frustration seeping into his voice. “I just wanted you to talk to me, but you wanted to stay with him.”

Michelle shook her head, and immediately regretted it. Pain radiated through her head, followed by a wave of nausea.

“Oh,” Richard said, helping her to lay back down. “You shouldn’t do that. You have a concussion. Here,” he continued, opening the bottle of pills. “Take these, they’ll help.”

Michelle locked her jaw closed, refusing the offered pills.

“Please don’t be difficult,” Richard cooed, trying to force the pills past her teeth. “I’m only trying to help.”

When she continued to resist, Richard heaved a sigh and put the pills back on the tray.

“If you’re going to behave that way I guess we’re gonna have to do this another way,” Richard said, picking up one of the syringes. Before she could protest the needle was in her shoulder and Richard was pushing down the plunger.

“There,” he said, softly stroking her hair. “You’ll feel better soon. In two weeks, when the new moon rises, we will be together forever.”

In her current state, Michelle was unable to hold out against the potency of whatever was in the needle. She was soon slipping into unconsciousness as Richard began removing bandages from her head and cleaning unseen wounds.

The next time she awoke, Michelle felt weaker and sicker. Her arms ached, and breathing was a chore, and her head felt so heavy she wasn’t sure her neck could support it.

Sitting up carefully, she gingerly felt around her head and felt gauze wrapped around it again. Looking around she saw that she was still in her basement prison.

The walls, what she could see of them, were covered with odd writing, some form of language she couldn’t understand. There were large planks of wood covering what might have been windows, but unable to see them clearly she couldn’t be sure.

Carefully, Michelle reached down to inspect the cuffs around her ankles. They were made of solid metal and each was locked with a very sturdy padlock. The skin under the metal was raw and bloody, each movement of her legs drawing blood. She tried to find a way to free herself but only caused more pain and tearing of flesh.

“Please help me,” she cried out, but without water for who knows how long, and her ribs compressed by the bandages, she couldn’t manage more than a squeak before the searing pain forced her to stop. When she tried again, she was racked by savage coughs that made her head reel, increasing the pain in her chest.

With failing strength, she fell back down on the mattress and wanted to cry, but was so dehydrated she couldn’t manage a single tear. While she lay there exhausted and defeated, she heard the door unbolt again and tried lifting herself up to face Richard. When he saw her struggling, he put the tray he was carrying down and rushed to help her upright.

“There, there my sweet,” he said, touching her face. “Feeling better?”

Still unable to speak more than a whisper she managed to croak out, “No.”

“Oh,” he replied, retrieving the tray. “You must be so thirsty. Here,” he continued, holding a cup to her lips, “drink this slowly.”

When she clutched at the cup and attempted to gulp, Richard pulled it back, clicking his tongue at her.

“Not so fast,” he chided, “you’ll make yourself sick. Now, I’ll give you some more, but you have to sip.”

Nodding her assent, Michelle sipped slowly, feeling ecstatic as the water ran down her parched throat.

“There,” Richard cooed as she finished. “That has to feel better, huh?”

“Yes,” Michelle breathed weakly. “Thank you.”

Richard took the cup and put it down with a clink. When he turned back, he had a bowl of steaming soup in his hands. Slowly, he lifted a spoonful to her cracked lips.

“Careful,” he said, “it’s hot.”

Spoonful by spoonful he fed her, wiping away the few drips that dribbled down her chin.

With a warm, full stomach Michelle found herself feeling very tired again. Unwilling to give into sleep, she impulsively reached out and gasped Richard’s arm.

“Please,” she begged, “let me go.”

Gently prying her fingers loose, Richards simply smiled at her and said, “I can’t do that yet.”

“Why?” she asked, followed by a series of racking coughs.

“I told you silly,” he said as he began to tend to her bandages, “the new moon won’t be here for another twelve days. And do you know why that is exciting?”

Michelle began to tremble, and shook her head slowly ‘no’.

“On the night of the new moon, I am going to turn you,” he continued cheerfully. “We will be bound for life by blood and magic. You will be my progeny forever.”

Pulling away from Richard’s touch, Michelle moved as far from him as she could manage, stretching her chain to its limit.

“What?” she asked in disbelief. “Why?”

“Because,” Richard said, reaching towards her. “We are meant to be together.”

“No,” she breathed, “we’re not. Richard, please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone about this. I just want to go home. I don’t even want to be with Gareth! I just want to go home.”

“Gareth,” Richard snarled, pulling hair off of her head along with the bandage. “He took you from me! All I needed was time!”

“What you needed was to leave me alone!” Michelle replied, finding it harder to get her breath back. “We aren’t even dating anymore.”

“We could have been if you’d just cooperated” he yelled savagely.

“No,” Michelle replied, tears streaming down her face too weak to slap away his hands, “we wouldn’t.”

“Yes, we would have, and it would have been fair,” Richard raged. “Gareth cheated, using his ability to hypnotize you,” he continued with a snarl, angrily wiping rubbing alcohol on her forehead. “You even went to bed with him the night you met didn’t you?”

Wide-eyed, Michelle nodded.

“I know!” he yelled again. “I heard you fucking him all night long.”

Balling up the used gauze, he turned away from her once more and put them on the tray.

When he turned back, his face was softer.

“I forgave you,” he said shaking his head, “I had hoped that it would be just the once. That he had gotten what he wanted from you and then he would leave you alone. But no… he came back again and again. Well,” he sighed. “I knew I needed to make my move. If I waited any longer you would be completely under his spell and I would never have a chance. That’s why I tried to take you when you were walking home.”

“You were the dog that attacked me?” she asked weakly.

“It was just a little nip,” he reasoned, moving to treat the wounds on her arms and shoulders. “I’d planned to bring you here that night, and making you mine under that new moon, but no… your stupid neighbor had to see it happen and hit me with that stupid umbrella.

“And you ended up screwing that weak excuse for a lycan again the next night,” he finished, collecting the tray.

“But, it’s not too late,” he said, “I can still have you. And soon, you’ll be mine… forever.”