𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐞 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐞

7 | whips and chains

When Noah comes back upstairs, he's shamelessly covered in blood. His neck was shiny with sweat and his hair was dark.

"Oh, what's up?"

He better be joking.

I stay silent, watching from the couch as he walks in the direction of the bathroom.

"Where's Sao?"

I shrug.

"Why aren't you talking?"

I shrug. I wasn't really in the mood to talk to a person who just murdered a girl, but that's just my preference.

"Kay, whatever," He mumbles before entering the bathroom then closing the door behind him. The shower starts and I use this as my time to go find Sao. I haven't seen him in a while actually.

I check the kitchen, no one there. I check Noah's bedroom. No one there. I even check the mirrored room. No one in there either.

I looked through the entire house, and even the dogs and cat were wondering where he was as they followed me around.

I was skeptical about checking the porch solely because of the fear of Noah finding out. But if Sao was missing, I was the one going to hear about it, and I was also going to be the one to filter the anger that comes with it.

But there he was, on the porch sitting down looking out at the street like he wasn't a hostage that's kept in the basement to rot.

"Sao?"

He doesn't respond, so I step closer, "Sao, what are you doing out here?"

"Go away."

"What?"

He whips around, "I said go away!"

His face was red and his cheeks were wet with tears. The skin around his eyes was inflamed and irritated and his lips were quivering.

"We're you crying?"

"No," He mumbles.

I wasn't sure what to do. I've never dealt with someone crying in front of me before, I wasn't used to this.

"I'll uh- go get Noah."

"No. Don't. I don't want to see him. Or you."

I stand there, dumbfounded.

"Sao. If you're allowed to go on the porch, why didn't you just run away?"

"Larissa the doors always open. But it's your own that decides not to leave."

-

I go back into the house right as the shower turns off. What the fuck was I supposed to tell Noah? Your boy's crying on the porch, go comfort him. Does he even know how to comfort? Maybe he's like me.

I thought about what Sao said. It's your own that decides not to leave. If I knew the door was open, I would have left, but I didn't. I was scared of getting caught, I was scared of someone finding me, I was scared that there was a search party for me, I was scared of everything outside. In here, I felt like I was safe from everything out there.

That's why I haven't left.

-

"Is Sao still not here?" He asks.

I was sitting on the couch flipping through pages of a random book I found in the bookshelf.

"He's on the porch," I say short, keeping my eyes on the page.

He makes a confused noise, then walks toward the door, opening it. He was still there.

"Sao?" He says.

This time, he responds quickly, standing up then running toward him with his arms outward. His sobs begin again, and they were so loud I could hear them from the living room.

"What's wrong?"

"It's her! You only like her!"

What?

"What are you talking about?"

"You forgot about me!"

"I didn't forget about you, Sao. I love you, you know that."

He loves him?

"No, you don't! You didn't even acknowledge me for two hours. I could have been out telling the bloody police about you! Yet you were downstairs with her chopping up another fucking girl!"

"I'm sorry. I got carried away."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

I can't stand this conversation anymore.

I stand up, walking into the bedroom then into the closet. It takes several attempts to get the key, but when I finally do, I unlock the trapdoors then walk into the basement.

This time, I turn on the light.

The area where the girl was was scrubbed clean, and there was no sign of her at all. He must have put her somewhere.

I wanted to explore this place, make note of where everything was and what was hiding in here. That's when I see a door. A door that I never noticed before. It was metal too, and that could only mean a few things.

But, I want to leave that for last, just in case.

I start with the same closet Noah got the saw from. It was back in there, cleaned and looking new. Next to it, the same weapons I saw when he opened it. There were guns and staffs, whips and chains, even a shock collar made for dogs.

It was disturbing what was in here, but I was intrigued at the idea of what he would use each of these for. I mean let's be honest, I don't think he needs a machine gun to kill a singular person.

I move onto the next thing, completely forgetting that those items were used to kill people.

I've seen too much, and that's the midst of it.

I walk over to Sao's bed next, kneeling down. It was a thin white mattress with no sheets and a singular black, fluffy blanket. At least he got a bed, I slept on the floor.

The mattress was caved in the middle too, meaning he's been there for so long that the cheap mattress molded to his body shape. I remember saying he's been Sao since he was 20, which means he's been here for 5 years.

But if the door was open for 5 years, why didn't he leave? It was the hardest and most difficult question to answer because it was going against all forms of common sense. It was like a headache that pounded against your temples every time someone spoke. It would go away, then come back every time the thought came back.

But right now, no one was talking and I had other things to look at.

I leave the mattress, then walk across the other walls. There was a large industrial sink and a freezer which I dare not look in. Then a desk. A simple, wooden desk with a picture frame on top of it and a few pencils.

In the picture, a little boy and a woman with short blonde hair.

It was Noah and his mother.

Maybe, I thought, just maybe he actually did like his mom. I mean, why else would he keep a picture of her if he didn't like her?

I wanted to know him like Sao did, I wanted to be trusted by him, but I just wasn't quite at that stage yet. But hopefully, one day, however long that takes, I'll figure out the answers to everything.

Finally, but not finally, I was back at the metal door.

I didn't know what to look forward to. I wanted to expect more from him, but I couldn't. It was obvious what a door like this could hold.

So I place my hand on the door handle, breath in, then pull.

This is not what I expected at all.