Death.
Such a dull, boring, single word. Funny how it could have such a terrible meaning. All my hard work to get back on my feet in my sorry excuse of a life was wasted. Gone. Useless.
He'd killed me. The realization of that scared the hell out of me. All because I had scared away all his precious little customers. They'd deserved it, but I didn't deserve to die.
Anger surged through me, singing in my fingertips, and threatened to bubble over, as I thought of what Jaque had done. The candle holder that he had used to smash my head, kept flashing through my brain, over and over again like a movie clip stuck on replay.
Hate.
That was the only word that could ever possibly describe how o felt about Jaque. Hatred bubbled up and up and up until I finally lost it....... Fire blazed trough me until all I saw was blinding red rage,
and the white hot fire of hatred behind my eyes.
And then darkness.....nothing but terrible darkness.
My eyes were wide open, but all I saw was pure blackness--not even a single sliver of light. I tried to scream, but absolutely no sound came out, and when I moved my mouth something sticky would pull at the skin of my face, making me wince.
Tape. He had tapped my mouth shut! I tried to pull the duct tape off my mouth, but something scratchy bound my wrists together. Ropes bound my ankles and wrists, cutting into my cold, sweaty skin.
That crazy bastard! I never thought I would ever call someone that, but with Jaque, no other words fit. Not only had he tried to kill me, but he bound and gagged me, and left me in the dark to die.
What did I do to deserve this?
I had always been a good girl and did whatever ideas Jaque's tiny evil brain had thought up for me to do, and even suffered through some sexual assault from the drunken customers begging for another beer, while screaming at the television. I bucked and kicked, struggling to
get to my knees so I could inch my way to the door.
There was one problem. I didn't know if there was a door. I had no idea where I was, so how was I supposed to find a door in the dark!? I couldn't see a thing, not even the silhouette of my own hand in front of my face. I swallowed back desperate tears, and the urge to scream even if the gag would muffle it.
Kicking and screaming of of pure frustration, i inched my way to the right to feel around for anything sharp i could cut my bonds with. I spread my arms far apart to try and loosen the ropes around my wrists or........
A knock sounded at the door.....wherever that door was. But the knocking was a loud hollow sound that sounds when you knock on wood. Wood doors.......All the doors in the bar were metal..........except for the door that led to the kitchen. He put me in the kitchen!
"Who's there?" I yelled, but the gag mangled the words to sound more like 'oos er?' My strange-sounding question was answered by the sound of keys jangling in the door dead-bolt. Someone was coming in the kitchen. The door opened wide, letting in light -- beloved, sweet light.
A shadowy figure appeared in the doorway, sending a shiver down my aching spine.
The light flicked on, making me squint my eyes painfully, but it was great to finally be able to see my own form. It was Jaque. He'd come back -- and probably to finish me off. He had probably waited until I awoke so that I could watch him kill me, and endure every painful second. Just the thought made me feel as if I were going to be sick.
My head ached where he had hit me, and I felt as if I might pass out any second from the pain......and the fear of the whole fricken' situation. I couldn't believe it had come to this. Just as I thought my ife was getting back on track with my life, I was sure to die. He wouldn't let me live. I was sure of that. He would leave no chance that I could ever tell someone what he did to me. There was only one way to ensure that he, and his gruesome, grotesque ways weren't discovered. And that was Death.
Jaque was Death itself, disguised in human form. He wasn't even attractive. With long, scraggly, greasy dark hair, a stocky bordering on overweight build, and gross flaky skin, it was no wonder he had never had a girlfriend in his sad little life. His skin was flakier than ever, and when he leaned in close to me, his breath smelled of onions and rotting meat; definitely nothing I cooked in this kitchen, that's for sure.
He leaned in even closer, and I held my breath and prayed he would just get it over with already.
"You just don't know when to quit do you?" he whispered in my face, and I tried my hardest not to gag or throw up from his breath. "Why don't you just die already!"
I replied a muffled response into the gag, and his face turned beet-red. He brought up one, large, grimy hand, and I flinched away, sure he was going to hit me. Instead, he ripped the tape of my mouth, and I shrieked as even more blood ran down my face.
"What was that, Honey?" he asked, and I resisted the overwhelming urge to roll my eyes. Almost. I rolled them a little, and he exhaled in my face, making me gag. He backed up a few feet, and chuckled.
"What's so funny?" I replied icily, and the chuckling stopped.
He raised his fist, and I regretted my words, and I wished I could just stuff them back in my mouth before he heard them. But it was too late. He struck out, and his open hand collided with my cheek sending waves of pain through my whole body. I whimpered, and he laughed.
He was enjoying this I always thought he was a cruel man, but I never thought he could ever take it to this level.
I sat there dumbfounded, as the red and black spots cleared from my fuzzy vision. When I opened my eyes, I was staring into Jaque's. They were the same color as his soul; a cold, washed out, brownish color. Looking into his scary, hard, cold eyes, I thought the same thing over and over again.
Go away. Go away, and leave me alone. Go away, and leave me alone. Go away and --
I heard a slight shuffling sound, and I realized - belatedly - that Jaque was getting to his feet, which seemed to sway beneath his weight. I shrank back, preparing for him to throw another punch, but instead, he spoke:
"I will go away, and leave you alone. I will go away, and leave you alone. I will go away, and leave you alone." His eyes were hard, and had a glassy appearance to them, as if he were high on drugs.
I sat there, my mouth flapping open very unattractively, staring at him as if he had just given birth to a litter of flying pigs. He turned to walk out of the kitchen, and I held my breath, expecting it to just be a trick, and he would turn round any second and rip my throat out.
He didn't.
Instead, he walked out the door, shutting and locking it behind him. I was trapped again.......but I had light. I could find a knife and cut my bonds and then I would be free! Easier said than done when you are tied up. I groped around the kitchen floor trying to feel for something that I could use to pull myself up when I felt it. The cold hard handle of a cleaver knife. My reflection glinted evilly in the cold steel of the blade and I smiled down at my new little toy with deep satisfaction.
