Malum Sanguinem (Bad Blood)

Chapter Four

During the night, I stirred once when I felt hands enclosing themselves around me but I shrugged it off thinking it was only my imagination. My blanket also somehow found a way to cover my face and almost suffocate me. I remembered struggling, but soon after became really tired. There was a funny taste in my mouth, too, a mix of bitter cherry and weird sour chemicals. My mind became sluggish, along with my movements. Then everything became blank.

I woke up the next morning and stretched my sore body, or at least tried to. A muffled scream left me when I saw that I was tied to a metal chair with barbed wires that painfully dug into my flawless skin. I wasn't wearing my paper thinning hospital dress and somehow someone changed me into waist high denim shorts with a scoopneck tank top. Totally inappropriate. I was bloody from the deep scratches the wire did to me and it became more painful while I waited. My mouth was gagged with a dirty sock which protruded a stench of puke and my legs were also bounded together. I stayed upright in an agitation of cutting myself further than necessary. Where was Lloyd when I needed him?

From my short stay, I knew I was alone in a murky basement. There were pipes of all sorts twisting and turning simulated a maze and the steam it released made the atmosphere damp. I was in the middle of the dimly lit room and was close to breaking into cold sweats. I anxiously waited for someone to come through the high door which was hidden by the series of steps on the staircase. The only part I could see was the thin strip under it from where light mysteriously protruded.

Loud voices danced downwards through the small space and hope flickered somewhere inside of me. I snapped my head towards the stairs in front of me and waited for the doorknob on the top to twist open. Soon, footsteps filed in and my heart thumped along with their rhythmic steps. When the first person's foot met the cement floor of the basement, I looked up at him and internally gasped.

It was the Hispanic man, or at least someone who looked exactly like him. Chills ran deep in my bones and cold sweat dripped effortlessly from my chin. "W-what a-are y-you d-doing h-here?" I muffled, stumbling over the most easiest of words.

"Don't grieve child, I mean you no harm." his voice silkily floated in the air.

Tears brimmed in my olive green eyes. "You were d-dead, I saw it with my own two eyes!" I trembled.

He heartily laughed, "Oh, you must mean my filthy, good-for-nothing twin!" My eyes widened in shock. How could anyone have so much hate for their own flesh and blood?

The others came down behind him and surrounded me. They were the same men who sat at the gambling table, and they all shot me menacing glares. I returned it with one of my own and the American remarked, "Feisty? I like." He crouched to my level and caressed my face with his calloused hands. It disgusted me and I angrily shook my head away from him. I, then screamed when the wires burrowed into my flesh, peeling the outer layer of skin from my exposing parts. All the others laughed at my anguish.

"Get away from her, she's mine!" A voice bellowed from the top of the stairs. I waited for him to majestically step down with an air of belonging. Not to my surprise, it was Lloyd. He was different and looked older than his actual age. His hair was unevenly parted into two and his face didn't have its usual high cheekbones.

The American stepped away from me and made way for Lloyd who motioned for them to remove the dirty sock from my mouth. They complied and I coughed out the icky remains. Sudden anger bristled inside of me and I vehemently spat, "I hate you, Lloyd! You're nothing but a scheming mongrel!" My spit landed on Lloyd and he calmly wiped it away.