A Rose to Change a Life

Chapter 24

The Showdown

I felt like a cowboy from these old Western movies, preparing for the last shoot-out. Except I did not have cowboy boots, a cowboy hat nor a revolver, basically everything a proper cowboy needed – guess that killed the cowboy image. Bummer.

The street was rough, cobblestones and torn asphalt. It made me feel glad that I hadn't worn high shoes – they would have sealed my ultimate death fate. Walking until I stood in front of the house felt like it took forever, each step weighing my feet down like lead, my hand in constant closeness to my weapons. I hoped they could be of use. When I was finally in front of a scratched wooden door, I thought about phoning him, I was sure if my fist would even come close to the wood it would splinter like mad. In the end, I decided for knocking still, after all, you could not do more harm to the house. I knocked, nobody answered which was slightly weird as he was expecting me, hence I tried the handle – being surprised when I didn't hold the handle in my hand after touching it – and it gave, leaving me to stare into a living room. Or rather a room which was designed to be the living room, but was an empty four by four space now. No furniture. No pictures. No love. Nothing.

The floorboards creaked when I entered the house, apparently, it was eager to get nominated for ‚scariest house of the year' even though Halloween was still months away, figure that logic. Despite the house's attempt of making me scared – my memory did a good enough job of it already, thank you I did not need help with it – I still looked around the house, until I ended up standing in the middle of the supposed living room. An open kitchen to the left and a hallway with the bedrooms to the right. I did not see them anywhere on my tour, which was not a good sign at all.... The only other possibility where they could be was.... the cellar. I mentally cursed him, he was forcing me to confront my fears! A place which I dared not even think about.

Suddenly, there was a voice, ragged and still overly sweet, "Eeeeeelllllvaaaaaaaaa!" I heard him holler. No doubt as to who it was, I would have recognized his voice anywhere. "Why don't you come downstairs, beautiful? We're having it quite cozy here." 

There it was again, the stupid nickname which I did not want to hear at all. Goosebumps spread on my skin, my nails digging into my palms nearly drawing blood that's how hard I had to press to keep from panicking. No way would he win now, I would not let him get the upper hand. He stole from me and I did not mean to let him go without paying for it.

Bracing my shoulders, strutting out my chin, I dared to move forward. The black- painted cellar door loomed ahead of me, I tried the first step, and then the next, and the next, varying darker each time. I could barely make out a dim light at the end of the stairs, turning into a horizontal corridor – my instinct led me to the left.

"Oh yes, pretty girl is coming! I see you have finally found the way. Come on.. just a liiiiittle bit closer...", he taunted me, leading me to unpack my teaser. "Good girl, here, is your prize. Come and get it. "

In my head I pictured Kean and Elise strapped to a chair, bound ankles and tape over their mouths – unfortunately, my mind was right. Entering the room, I saw it outside of my inside head-cinema: the room was dirty, short flashes of memories flashed in front of my eyes, I remember a mattress which had been in the left corner, the dull neon lamp was still hanging in the middle of the ceiling, the mattress was gone. Instead, two wooden chairs were located in the center of the room. It looked like one of those prisoner cells you got to see on TV. No windows. No air condition. Nothing.