Whisper

Chapter Eight: Captive

"What the-"

"You're probably wondering where you are," a voice interrupts.

I look in the dark, shining the small LED light from where the voice came from, but all I can see is a black silhouette.

"Who are you?" I growl.

"That's not important."

"Uh, I think it is," I argue. "So why don't you show who the hell you are."

The silhouette didn't move. Stubborn.

I can play stubborn.

"Stupid asshole," I mumble under my breath. I rush up to the silhouette and catch the person in a headlock against the wall.

The person struggles and gasps for air, clawing at my arm. But I don't release them. Not when I don't know who they are. Not when they piss me off.

"Now why don't you show me who the hell you are before you piss me off even more," I grab my flashlight and shine it on the person's face. "Bloody Mary."

Bloody Mary gasps for air when I release her. "God dammit," she chokes, "and here I was supposed to be the frickin' tough one."

"Why did you bring me here?" I yell.

"Because you're getting in my way," Bloody Mary takes a deep breath.

"Getting in the way of what?"

"Me killing Dannie."

"Mother-"

Bloody Mary charges towards me and smashes me against the wall. I feel my spine shake inside my body, rattling my brain. Bloody Mary has her hand against my throat pushing down on my windpipe, while also punching my gut. I cough up blood and spit it on her face. She screams but doesn't let go. With my free hand I stick my fingers into her eyes and press them as hard as I can. This time Bloody Mary screams and lets go. She holds her face in her hands, blood seeping through her fingers. She releases her face and I notice her eyes are sliced and bleeding. I should feel sorry for her, blind as a bat, but I'm not. I'm angry and it's all her fault. If she wants to piss me off, then she's going to get what's coming for her.

You mess with the bull, you get the horns.

I tackled her as she looks frantically around the room, but all she can do is listen for my silent footsteps to jump her. I land her on her back, the crack of her spine hitting the paved floor. I look her in the eyes and glare at her. She lies helplessly, trying to claw at me. I smile freakishly at her weakened state.

"Don't you ever screw with me. Or Dannie."

I grab her head and begin pounding it furiously against the floor, breaking her skull piece by piece. At last her screams fade away, along with her soul. I lift her head one last time and smash it especially hard against the floor. The entire back of her head shatters into a bloody, brain splattered mess. I take a deep breath, trying to regain my energy, hanging my exhausted head in my hands. My bloody hands. The blood sticks to my face, adding to the splatter already sprayed across it. I look down at myself. I match the splatter of my room, like a painting. My hands are completely bloody and dripping. There's blood splatter along my arms, legs, face, chest and torso. I look down at the dead and bloody body of Bloody Mary.

"Mariath Blodgette," I whisper under my breath.

I reach for a small white triangle sticking out of her pocket. It's worn and crumpled. A note.

Dear mariath,

The papers are filed. Your mother, sister and I have finally funded enough money after all of these years. You're coming home, sweetie. You're finally coming home.