The Rabbit Hole

Chapter 20

Try as I might, I couldn't. I couldn't keep track of the time, the days, the months. I previously kept watch as my belly grew but I just don't know any more. It has doubled in size since I first found out that I was pregnant. I don't even know if this baby will reach nine months. I'm surprised it even made it this far with my current diet. Even if it does go the full nine months, do I really expect to give birth in this pit? He or she would be brought to this world screaming, and I wouldn't blame it one bit. Born into madness, hell, I'd scream too if the first thing I saw of the world was this place.

Sitting in the corner with my right palm gently placed on my belly, massaging it in a circular motion, I wonder of a name for the baby. If it's a boy, Nathan, I always liked that name, and if it's a girl, Nancy or Angela, or maybe Eileen, named after my mother. "Suzanne." I say out loud, and I don't even know why. Maybe it's because I've heard it plenty. Suzanne, after each passing day. The mere mention of the name brings forth wonder. Wonder of what it is that happened, what it is that made him turn out the way he is. What role did this Suzanne play in his life -in both their lives. How could one turn out to be a monster and the other still maintain some compassion for human life? I need to know, I have to know. If I can get Samantha to hear me out, if I could get her to at least give me a remnant of her and her broken brother's shrouded past, I could have an inkling on how to play with his mind for a change.

She comes in here once or twice a week or so, days move past in a fog I can't even tell. All I have to do is wait for her, if I can be patient enough with her and get her to trust me then that may be my way out. Hoping I survive that long. He can quickly snap out of his already-scattered mind and decide to end me.

The wait for his daily visit to his pit is at hand. He's unlocking the door now, and just like that time ago, he enters with both hands at his back. He reveals the left hand and it's the same knife as last time, but without the blood on it this time. "We're going to try this again." He starts, "I have a surprise for you." He says, just as the last time I recall. "What is it?" I ask nervously.

"Just a gift. From me, to you." He says and reveals what's in his right hand, a rabbit's mask. A furry rabbit mask. I can see from the dried up blood on it that he made it himself. The mask is big enough to wrap my whole entire face. From the looks of it, he must have skinned the animal of its fur and stitched it all together to create it. It's creepy looking and it stinks, the smell from its musk is quite rancid, and I'm pretty sure I can see maggots moving from it. "I made it myself. Nice, right? I mean I know it's not your style but I'm sure that you can appreciate its beauty right, Suzanne?" He says, sounding like a proud boy who just accomplished a great feat. He glares at me with his eyes, waiting for my acknowledgement of his grotesque creation. I can barely move from the sight of that thing in his hands, and yet he waits for me to congratulate him on it. I manage to let out a few sharp breaths from out of my mouth, fearful that he'll want me to put it on if I agree with him, terrified that he'll force it over my face if I disagree with him. What should I do? "It's..." I pause for a moment, "very nice." I respond to him and his eyes brighten up. "R-really?" He asks excitedly, like he doesn't believe that I said that, "You never like my things, Suzanne. Do you really like it?" He asks.

"Ye-yes. I do."

"Wow. You don't mind trying it on do you?" and there it is, my fear of him asking me that, I know for sure he's going to try and force it over my head. "No. I'm okay." I say to him, shaking my head side to side and keeping my gaze on the mask.

"But you said you liked it."

"I do."

"Then try it on."

"No."

"Try, it, on!" He orders.

"No, please." I beg. I notice with a quick glance as he grips the handle of his blade tighter and he walks closer to me with the blade tilted up. He gets up close and rests the sharp edges of the blade sideways across my throat, the cold steel of it just a split inch from my artery. My back against the wall and him in front of me, "Put it on." He breathes out the words into my ear. In my hand, away from his sight is my trusted wooded friend, aching to be used after all this time, and as nervous as I am my hands are trembling. I act fast and I pierce his left leg with it. He drops down in pain and grabs the splinter sticking out of his leg, by my bare feet is the sharp blade he brought in. I pick it up and dive on him with it, aiming at his heart as I go in for the stab. He grabs my wrist inches before the blade could meet his heart. We wrestle, once more we wrestle. The first time this happened he beat me and bounced my head on a doorframe. This time I'm on top, this time I call the shots, and this time it's his heart that's supposed to beat the blunt sound of fear. He grabs me by the neck with his other hand and flips me over, ending up on top of me as he fights for the blade. With one hand on my wrist and the other around my neck, he leaves his weakness open. I grab the splinter still poking out of his leg and twist it. He shrieks very loudly but he manages to backhand slap me. The attack causes for me to lose grip of the blade as it slides across the room. Like last time, I headbutt him across the face and feel something break. He falls on his back and I wound up on top again. With no other weapon I can use against him, I resort to more extreme measures, wrapping the chain cuffed to my ankle around his throat. I strangle him with it, tightly. He flops around, trying to fight it, losing a lot of blood from his leg. I watch him as he chokes and turns blue on the face, then his eyes close slowly and finally, they shut. I did it. I beat him. I won. However, I'm still shackled to that damn iron pole. In order for me to leave, I need to find the keys to the chain linked to my foot. Searching and rummaging through his pockets is a waste of time. Just his ID in one pocket-Bernard Guile, is his name-and the other pocket is full of lint. But with some luck, I see it, under his shirt, around his neck, a key. Pure luck, if I hadn't killed him the way I did I wouldn't have ripped a couple of buttons from his shirt and noticed the key. I snatch it off his neck and free myself from the chain link. I then start upstairs, in my weakened state, I find myself limping all the way out of the basement -I must have twisted my ankle during the struggle. The basement exit leads directly into the kitchen. I limp out and straight to the front door. Twist the door knob open and see the gloom of the midday rain as it drizzle's down. At the edge of exiting the house, an odd sense fills through my body, like I'm being followed, like there's something ominous behind me. I turn to see what it might be and the last thing I see before passing out, is him.