Chapter 19

The rescue continues.

Chapter Nineteen

Madman

 

He sat down at the table across from his mom. He picked nervously at his food, worry hanging over him.

            “Al, could you please pass the salt?” asked his mother.

            Allister jumped in his seat.

            “W-w…what?” he asked nervously.

            “Could you please pass the salt?”

            “Uh…s-sure…”

            He slid the salt shaker down the table to his mother. Mrs. Waterman caught it in one hand. She shook some salt over her scrambled eggs and placed it by her plate.

            “Is something wrong?” she asked worriedly.

            “No…I’m just…just a little tired, that’s all.”

            “If you’re sure. You seem jumpy this morning.”

            “TV. Probably too much of it,” said his father, coming in late. Mr. Waterman turned to his wife and kissed her on the cheek. “Morning.”

            “You’ve been working late again, haven’t you, Jake?” Mrs. Waterman guessed.

            “Have to, Gwen,” he replied, stuffing his mouth full of eggs. “Or else we wouldn’t be able to afford all the nice stuff we have.”

            Mr. Waterman sat adjacent to Al and turned to him.

            “Sorry I haven’t been around much. How’s school?”

            “It’s…great. Nothing much is happening, though,” said Allister.

            “Ah…well, maybe I’ll be able to take time off for Christmas vacation. We could go up to Silenus Slopes and just relax for a week or two. Would you like that?”

            “Yeah. Sounds cool.”

            “Hah! Thought so.” Mr. Waterman poured himself some orange juice. “So…got your eye on any girls yet?”

            “Jake!” exclaimed Mrs. Waterman.

            “I’m just curious. A father should be allowed to know about his son’s life, now shouldn’t he?”

            “Yes. But�"”

            “My point exactly, Gwen.” He turned to Al. “Any?’

            “Um…”

            “Come on. There has to be someone.”

            “Well…” Allister blushed.

            “Hah! I knew it. There always is someone.”

            Just then the telephone rang. Allister leaped out from his seat, throwing down the fork he held in his hand.

            “It’s for me.”

            “There we go! I have a little Casanova here, now don’t I? That’s m’boy!”

            Allister ignored his dad and rushed to the next room. He yanked the phone out of its cradle and answered.

            “Hello?”

            “Is this…um…the Waterman household?” asked a woman’s voice.

            “Yeah. Who’s this?”

            “This is Mrs. Stravinsky, Willow’s guardian. Are you Allister Waterman?”

            “Yes, ma’am, I am.”

            “That’s good. I’m calling to check up on Willow. How’s she doing over there?”

            “She’s…fine. She’s in the bathroom right now,” he said.

            “That’s good. Watch out for her, will you? I really don’t want anything happening to her. She’s been through so much,” she said.

            “I will. She’s safe with me. Nothing’ll happen to her.”

            “Great. I might call a little later, okay? Just to check up on her. Happy Thanksgiving, Allister.”

            “Same to you, Mrs. Stravinsky.”

            Allister hung up the phone, breathing a deep sigh of relief.

            “Willow…please be careful. Wherever you are. I don’t want you getting hurt on me,” he whispered softly. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

 

_____

 

            His entire body throbbed. Hard. The pain was excruciating. The bruises on his arms and face were beginning to show, blue and black in all their glory. His head pounded. He wanted so bad to escape, but the drug they had given him hadn’t worn off yet. He was still unable to move or defend himself from harm.

            Pierce ran his tongue over his now cracked and bleeding lip. The dried blood tasted sharp and sour. Bile rose in his throat. He didn’t mind the sight of blood, but the smell and taste was a whole different matter altogether. He forced it down and tried his best to relax. But knowing that you’re soon going to be killed isn’t an easy matter to forget.

            It was strange, though. Pierce’s thoughts didn’t linger long on his own life, but rather for Willow’s safety. When he thought of her, all weights were lifted from his shoulders and he just wanted to stare into her eyes, wanted to make her smile. See the sorrow to disappear from behind her eyes and see her laugh. It made his own heart grow warm.

            “I swear to God…if they hurt her…if they even scratch her, I will come after them,” he rasped in a low voice.

            He realized that he cared more for Willow than he had ever thought. And now, in that moment of extreme danger, he discovered that his feelings for her were deep. Deep and rooted in her, for they shared a strong connection. He found that, really and truly, he was in love with Willow.

            But, before he could have any other thoughts on the matter, the door to the run-down, rotting shed he had been thrown in burst open. The creaky door slammed hard against the wood. The Russian man entered with two other men, both young looking.

            Probably straight out of college, he thought.

            “What do you want?” he growled at the trio.

            While the Russian man remained calm, the other two frowned deeply at him, curling and uncurling their fists. Russian held up a hand to them, telling them in body language not to try anything.

            “Ve have orders to take you to our boss,” Russian said clearly with a hint of  an accent. “He vants you to see something.”

            “What is it?” Pierce asked.

            “It is not our position to speak of that. Ve are just here to take you to him.”

            Russian approached him, towering above. A fierce aura washed off his body.

            “Do not resist, and you vill be left unharmed.”

            “And if I do?” Pierce challenged.

            Russian pursed his lips.

            “Then, ve vill have to take certain measures I vould rather not have. I do not vant to injure you, but I vill if I have to. And you know that I vould.”

            “I’ll go calmly then,” murmured Pierce.

            It wasn’t like Pierce couldn’t fight. He was drugged, so he couldn’t actually move. If he could, though, he would knock all three men unconscious with karate chops to the throat and escape to find Willow. Of course, he was unable to do all that and had to give in to their demands. The two young men wrapped Pierce’s arms around their shoulders for support. The dragged him out of the shed, led by Russian in the front. Russian walked like a military man, his back straight, shoulders balanced, and countenance free of any apparent emotion. He remained stoical as they were led through winding hallways with cameras plotting their movements. Guards watched them as they went by.

            As a few minutes passed, the hallways turned from old and run-down to elegant and poised. Paintings dotted the walls, people posing in gruesome situations. One painting even had a child decapitated and a woman by its side, a knife sticking through her ribs. Dark red paint, blood, was splashed everywhere on the grounds of the paintings. Fear stabbed his heart. They were dealing with a madman, someone who obviously liked to see people die.

            I knew that Dr. Struthers murdered people, but I never knew he enjoyed it. He can’t have liked it at first. But I bet over time that he developed this…this…thing… Awful.

            Pierce diverted his gaze from the gory pictures and instead stared at the ground. The floors were covered in a lush, wine red carpet that drew one in. The wooden walls, as well, were a dark mahogany.

            “Ve are here,” said Russian.

 

_____

 

            Patiently, he tapped his desk with a flow of fingertips. A maniac gleam shone in his eyes. He wanted to smile, laugh…something to announce his triumph to the world. But he kept silent, waiting for them to come.

            Things aren’t over yet, he reminded himself, shifting in his seat. Willow has to take the bait. And I’m sure she has. All we need is the worm to draw her in.

            Severin finally heard the sound of knocking on his door that he had been waiting for.

            “Enter,” he said plainly.

            Cain entered first, followed by Fleming and Stern carrying Pierce Stevens. Cain stood off towards the side of the room, awaiting orders.

            “Set him into the seat,” he ordered. “Cain, you may stay. The two of you, leave.”

            His voice was threatening enough to keep the young men away in case they ever got curious. Fear shining ripe in their youthful eyes, they hurried out the door and shut it. Severin turned his gaze from the door onto Pierce. He smiled at the young man, leering at him tauntingly. He knew he was in charge here, and Pierce seemed to know that as well. Pierce was drugged, and unable to move if he had to escape.

            “Boy…boy…” His maniac smile grew wider until his white teeth showed. “Boy, you know why you’re here. Or, do I have to inform you on that, as well?”

            Severin chuckled to himself, watching Pierce squirming in anger. Seeing the boy seethe in rage filled him with satisfaction.

            “Boy, I’ll tell you something. Something that you have never heard in your life. Something that may change you. I certainly know it changed me.”

            “Keep it to yourself, then,” Pierce spat at him. “All you do is cause pain. And you enjoy it.”

            “I do. It’s the truth,” Severin confessed smoothly. “Pain pleases me. It didn’t use to, but…” His smile grew wider until it was devilish and evil. “…I grew accustomed to it.”

            Pierce grimaced at him. He shuddered uncontrollably. Severin guffawed deeply. He caught his breath and calmed down. His smile disappeared, but the glint of menace and madness lingered behind his red-violet eyes. They flashed red at Pierce, the same red that Willow harbored also. Severin’s pale face suddenly appeared dangerous and truly evil.

            “Do you know, boy, why Willow is like what she is today?”

            Pierce glared at him, but his fear showed through.

            “I’ll answer for you, then. It’s because something terrible happened to her. Something I doubt you would ever understand.” Severin lowered his voice, but still loud enough to hear his last words. “I had her mother murdered right before her eyes.”

            Severin burst into an evil grin filled to brim with malice and enjoyment. Pierce stared at him, gaping in horror and fear. He heard an alarm sound somewhere in the building. He heard the rush of feet pounding against cracked concrete. His maniac smile turned to a smirk. Without so much as a glimpse at Pierce’s face, he knew he too was alarmed. It only grew worse with Severin’s two words.

“She’s here,” he whispered happily.

 

_____

 

Arachne landed on the ground like a cat. Her hair whipped back behind her. In the bright light, her pale skin glowed with a tan sheen. Her senses sharp and mind alert, she rose. Gathered around in a circle were men dressed in black, armed with guns. She stood straight, ready for battle.

“Bring it, boys,” she whispered.

Oh, they brought it, all right.

Two men charged at her, attacking head on. Arachne whipped out her wrists and released spider string and drew the men towards her with force. She grabbed their necks and bashed their heads together. More men circled her, carefully moving in. One with blond hair charged from the back, but her abnormal spider senses kicked in and she leaped off the ground. Arachne landed on the man, taking him out.

She delivered roundhouse to the ones who dared get her from the side. They were knocked unconscious immediately with the brute force of her body. She threw hook and uppercut moves from kickboxing to more men. By that time, she breathed hard. She raised her fists as a defense.

“Come on, come get me! I can handle whatever you b*****s throw at me.”

She smiled to herself.

They, in turn, began to fire their guns. She dodged the bullets by swerving around in the air gracefully. Not one hit her.

            They shot at her again, moving in closer and closer as each bullet was wasted.  She did cartwheels frantically avoid getting hit. She stopped and stood straight, quickly slicking out both her wrists, staring intently at the ceiling. String shot out of them and attached to the ceiling; she pulled herself up and swung around on the string. Her coat and hair trailed behind her in the air, flying and flapping like mighty banners.

            She saw a building, hidden, but she saw it, nonetheless. Arachne knew it was her father’s hideaway. Carefully, as she swung around, she aimed for a window on the side of the building. On the last second, she gathered up what was left of her nerves and loosened her grip on her spider string. The white rope flew from her hands and she felt a lurch of fear in her heart as she dropped quickly in a diagonal direction. She, having planned this in her intelligent mind, burst through the window perfectly. She crashed through, the force of her body being propelled into the window shattering both glass and weak pieces of wood.

            “Unh…”

            Arachne rolled over in her bed of glass. Her body ached all over. She just wanted to keep lying there until the hurt disappeared.

            No, she reminded herself. No…I have to get up. I have to. For Pierce. For Viola. For…for Mom. I have to do this. It’s the only way the pain will ever go away.

            Convincing, she rose slowly from the ground. A few shards of glass underneath her poked her skin uncomfortably. She took note to repair her pants because there were tiny little scratches all over them. Some were even very long and bleeding. Luckily, her long clothing protected her and had guarded her against any real damage.

            Arachne forced herself to sit up even though she wanted to lie down. Though the cuts on her skin were fairly menial, except for two long ones, they stung horribly. She gritted her teeth hard against the pain. Slowly, she stood, shaking the shock of the fall out of her head. She snuck quietly down the hall from where she had broken the window. She was careful not to make a single sound. Arachne wasn’t able to walk all that fast considering the pulled and sore muscles that throbbed in her upper legs.

            An alarm sounded in another part of the building. Arachne knew that they’d be looking for her. Leaning against the wall for a moment, she balanced herself on her feet and continued her walk. She slammed her eyes shut; she really wanted to rest.

            Have to…find Pierce. I have…have to save him from my father.

            While walking down the hall, she couldn’t help but notice the paintings that she passed by. She pursed her lips at the images she saw.

            Decapitated children…blood everywhere…women with their hands cut off…men with bullets through their hearts. It was horrible. She wanted so much to tear her eyes away, but…she couldn’t. This was just proof that her father was a complete and utter maniac. A bloodthirsty maniac, at that.

 

_____

 

Severin watched Willow’s movements through the security cameras on his computer. He had access to them, so he was able to connect or disconnect them anytime he desired. Willow was limping; the scratches on her arms and legs were small, but they bled furiously. The girl darted her eyes around. She was wary, and had every right to be. He smiled at what he had created. Her predator-like grace went unhindered by her limp and scratches.

Severin turned his gaze onto Pierce.

“She’s inside the building, if you wanted to know,” he said. He smiled at Pierce.

Pierce threw him a glare. Worry shone in his hard eyes. Severin saw that, in this one action, this boy cared more his daughter than he had thought. They were closer than just being friends. They were in love with each other.

Severin smiled, baring his teeth in a grin. He turned away and observed the moving image of Willow.

“My dear…you want him, come and get him,” he whispered quietly so that he wouldn’t be overheard.

“Cain,” Severin addressed the military man.

“Yes, sir?”

“Go and give my daughter a warm welcome.”

“Yes, sir.”

Cain left the room. Severin turned his gaze on Pierce.

“What are you going to do to her?” he asked threateningly.

“Just a little…welcome back.”

 

Pierce bared his teeth. Sitting for a minutes, he felt the drug fade from his hands and legs. He moved his arms slowly. Warmth flowed to all the parts of his body. He was careful to lay limp so they wouldn’t notice his full revival of the control of his body.

The two young men stood on opposite sides of the wooden doorway, hands behind their backs in military formation. They watched Severin blankly, waiting for any orders and commands. Pierce was aware that, if he suddenly attacked Severin, they would be forced to hurt him. That was something that Pierce couldn’t afford. He kept his boiling anger under check and simply watched Severin as he taunted Pierce.

“Why are you doing this?” asked Pierce. “What did Willow ever do to you?”

Severin pursed his lips, pulling them into a thin smile that drew his cheeks up.

“I am doing this because of Willow. She existed, and that is her only purpose,” he replied.

Pierce’s rage boiled even more. It began to be even harder to restrain himself from attacking Severin.

“She’s…she’s NOT AN ANIMAL, FOR CHRIST’S SAKE! SHE’S A HUMAN BEING! SHE ISN’T A PLAYTHING! SHE HAS EMOTIONS LIKE YOU DO! DOESN’T THAT MATTER TO YOU? DOESN’T THAT?” Pierce yelled in his face.

The former doctor kept his calm demeanor. Ice was in his stare and voice.

“No,” Severin simply stated. “It doesn’t matter to me at all. Willow is but an experiment. Her only purpose serves as a test subject, one of our many, to see if she can survive. And she did. We have no further need for her.”

Pierce frowned at him.

“You’re sick. Sick and evil and demented,” Pierce spat in his face. “I don’t see how Willow could ever be related to a beast like you.”

Pierce knew that Willow and Severin were related. It was so obvious because they looked so similar in their features. But Willow’s were only slightly more graceful than Severin’s masculine ones. Willow was softer in appearance, while her father was harsher. But that didn’t mean that Willow couldn’t be just as cold as him.

“You know then. You know we’re related.”

“Yes,” said Pierce. He narrowed his eyes. “I know.”

“Then you know much more than I assumed.”

“What are you going to do to Willow?”

Severin stared at him harder than before.

“I’m going to give her the test she needs to prove herself. I want to see if she can survive my dangers and get to you. I want to see if she dies or succeeds.” He grinned to himself. “I hope she dies.”

Pierce couldn’t it anymore. He curled his hands into fists. He rose from the chair he had been placed. The young men stepped forward.

“You…YOU!”

He raised a fist into the air, wanting to hurt Severin. The young men attacked him. They twisted both his arms behind his back to disable him from hitting the doctor. Severin, meanwhile, observed Pierce with malice and amusement. Pierce groaned in pain as his arms and hands were twisted and now freshly bruised from their tight grip. He lowered his head. His face was dotted with perspiration as Pierce looked up, glaring at Severin.

“You’re weak,” said Severin. “Take him away and set the trap up. Willow will find her way into it soon enough.”

“NO! YOU SON OF A B***H! IF YOU HURT HER, I SWEAR I WILL KILL YOU!” The two dragged him out of Severin’s room. “I’LL KILL YOU!”

“No, you won’t,” Severin answered silently. He smiled in utter amusement again. “Because your fate is in my hands. And I will make sure that Willow dies. Regardless.”

Author's Note

For some odd reason, the text has been really screwy lately in the chapters. Again, I'm sorry about it. This time I set the size to 12 point font. It should be consistent this time.
Enjoy, my readers! :D