We're all animals here

I Almost Made It

I ran through the woods not caring for the sharp sticks or dry grass beneath my feet. All I could think of was that he was coming for me. After escaping the wicked smell of the old attic, the sound of my friend's screams turning into dog barks, and the taste of the houses poisonous air, he's come to take me back. That dog's barks were fake and mine would have been too if I had been cooperative like Ben. But now Ben is gone and I'm still here. He listened to that old man like a dog and now he is one.

I looked back to find the old man with two of his newest toys by his side. Right there. They're right there. Not even 15 feet behind me. I always knew my past would catch up to me, I just didn't expect it to happen in the same place it began. In this old familiar woods, with these old familiar trees. I felt my legs start to give in and before I could urge myself to continue on and find the hidden pathway to freedom, I tripped. 12 feet. 9 feet. 5 feet. I reached in my pocket and scrambled for the wooden cross, the one my grandmother always made me carry around whenever I left the house. The one I so despised with all my being because it reminded me that all that has happened over the past 15 months was because "God" willed it. My hand reached it's rough wooden handle and tugged, tugged, tugged. But no. It was stuck. I cursed at the sky, hoping our "Great savior" could see the hatred in my eyes.

One of the dogs got to me first. No. Not just a dog. It's Liz. Liz Lynn. The girl who was turned the day I first arrived in the attic. Besides us being total strangers, she asked me to watch and take care of Luca, her younger brother, and remember her because she was afraid everybody else would forget. The old man told Liz that her brother no longer cared that she was gone. He turned her into an emotionless animal. That's how he does it. He locks you up for long enough to break your mentality then after he turns you into an animal, he brainwashes you into believing he's the good guy. That he will set you free from your miserable life.

Now we are laying on this damp forest floor with her metal claws piercing into my chest as she pins me to the dirt and the mud. I let out a silent scream, gasping for a breath of air. My hand yanked once more on the wooden handle until it ripped from my pocket. Pushing Liz's head back with what little strength I had left, I swing the cross handle into the side of her neck. She stopped, dead still, her eyes were wide as the blood started to flow from her neck and she realized what had happened. Her mouth opened as if to say something but no words came out. Her hands went to her neck, feeling the cross's structure. When she realized what the figure was she ripped it from her neck. Her hand lifted in front of her face to get a better look. After placing the cross on her chest, Her eyes went to the cloudy sky with eager. Her head slowly fell to the side, gagging on the blood that filled her windpipe. I scrambled to my feet and backed away, my breathing turned shallow and heavy as I watched Liz's body go limp on the ground. I killed her.

"I'm so sorry." I croaked, slowly backing away from her corpse. I turned to run but ran into a large figure. Ben. He only looked up, making sure not to make any eye contact with me. I spun around again to the sound of clapping.

"Well done." The old man laughed from his spot at a nearby tree. "I had many solutions running through my mind on how you'd get out of that sticky situation but I'd never think you would go as far as to kill her. It's kind of intriguing really. I have some questions I hope you'd be free to answer? I would love to get to know you better." He lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side.

I kept quiet, thinking of a way out.

"Am I really that bad of company?" He frowned.

"The worst." I spat at him.

He ignored my unpleasant answer. "How far would you go to get away from this place?"

I stared at him. "I'd go to any length to inform people of the sick things you are doing here. I won't let you get away with this. I Can't let you get away with this."

Ben's cold fingertips began to wrap around my forearm and I pulled away, Ripping myself from his grasp. I looked back at him. At his eyes. Green. I always thought of them looking like Mike Wazowski from Monsters Inc. because they were so big, round, and always happy.(And because it was his favorite Disney character.) I thought they were always so unique and beautiful and full of light but now they are just dull and filled with pain and hatred.

The old man chuckled. "You know, That's not the same Ben you used to know. Actually, That's not even Ben anymore. Now he's just a nobody. With no name. No face. Nothing. He's just nothing now. " 

As the man spoke, my eyes ran across Ben's bruised and broken body. His mouth was sewn shut and earlobes ripped from his head. A black zap collar wrapped around his blood crusted neck. Seemingly fresh dog hides stapled to him like a new layer of skin. A permanent coat. Metal claws nailed to his fingers like acrylics that could never be removed. His knees and feet were cut and bruised from being forced to crawl like an animal. Like a dog.

"Ben." I said, taking a step closer to him. He stepped back. I stopped. "Ben, It's me. Piper. You don't have to listen to him. We could win if we worked together. It could be us against him. Two against one-"

"It is two against one." The old man so rudely interrupted. "It just happens that you're the odd man out." He turned to Ben with a conceited smile overrunning his wrinkled cheeks. "Get her."

I turned my gaze to Ben who had his eyes to the ground and his hands behind his head as if he was bracing in a school tornado drill.

"Ben?" I pleaded. His head snapped up. Eyes meeting eyes. I stepped back, Turned, and ran. My legs felt like pin holders and my feet stung as if I'd been stung by a jellyfish but I ran. The old man yelled at Ben to catch me and as his footsteps got closer I caught sight of the path. Freedom. Right there. I changed my course of direction and sprinted to the opening. Before I could even step onto the gravel road, a hard object hit the back of my head. Maybe it was a Stick. A rock. His fist. I didn't really have time to look because my foot caught on a vine, I fell and my head struck a big rock, knocking me into a deep sleep.