Death Daydreams Read online

  I was soon completely bare.

  Gavin smiled at me, that same creepy, gentle smile. “You’re better proportioned than I thought.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully, his eyes continuing to roam. “Yes, you’ll do well enough.”

  Gavin lifted me in his arms, placing me gently on the metal cot, the frame of my future death.

  Unless he rapes us but doesn’t kill us.

  He started tightening the straps at my feet, pulling them taut around each ankle even though I could barely make them twitch. His hand trailed up my leg and then along my hip until reaching the strap to tie down my left arm. After that was secured his fingers danced up the inside of my elbow and across my shoulder. He brushed away the strands of hair stuck in the crease of my neck. The sensation caused the barest of movements, a slight scrunching of my neck.

  Gavin paused, his eyes widening. The falsely angelic smile returned. “It looks like the drug in your system is already beginning to fade. I didn’t expect that.” He trailed his fingers down my right arm in the same fashion that they had trailed up the left. “Even now, if you tried hard enough, I bet you could move this hand.”

  I glared at him the best I could, but my eyelids barely narrowed.

  “Come on, you’re not even trying.” His voice adopted a boyish, sing-song lilt. “How about this, I’ll add incentive.” He moved behind me, out of sight, before returning with something in his hand. The fluorescent light gleamed off the metal scalpel.

  He stared at the sharp tip of the small blade. “I really want to use this on you.” His breath caught in his excitement. “But if you manage to reach it,” he said, placing the blade next to my hip, “I’ll give you a reprieve.”

  The cold of the metal burrowed into my flesh, focusing my attention. Gavin was right, the numbness was beginning to fade.

  “It’s true, there’s no reason to trust my word.” He smiled again. “But what do you have to lose?”

  We could enjoy that scalpel. Wynn’s words were accompanied with images of the sharp instrument piercing his neck, blood spurting as his confident smile faded into shock.

  I willed my right hand to move. My fingers twitched, the smallest of movements. I concentrated harder. The arm shifted, the tiniest shift possible, but it moved. Sweat dripped down my forehead, into my eyes. My fingers were so close to the scalpel. Just another inch and I would have touched it.

  Gavin reached over, slowly so I could watch. I pushed harder, drawing infinitesimally closer. He picked back up the scalpel with only a centimeter to spare.

  He let it roll against my opposite thigh, maddeningly near but still out of reach. “Thanks, I have a much better idea of your current range of movement now.”

  Something flared inside of me.

  “Truth be told, it’s no fun when the drug takes away all sensation.” He finished tying down my right wrist, the barest of caresses filtering through the numbness. “Then I can’t hear you cry and plead.” His face drew closer as he studied my eyes as if searching for hidden tears.

  He won’t find any. We don’t beg.

  Gavin sighed, putting the last strap in place across my forehead. His face was so close.

  I concentrated as hard as I could and spit.

  He froze for a second before wiping the damp off his cheek.

  The retaliation was swift, the slap straining the strap holding my head to the table.

  He reached down and my eyes followed his hand to my bare breast. He pinched the nipple viciously. My body gave a subtle jerk, and the metal table clanked. He released the pressure. “We’ll get to have some fun real soon.”

  He walked around the table to stand near my feet. Then he began to strip, slowly and neatly, folding each piece of clothing as he went. Even his socks were tucked neatly into his shoes. When he finished, he stood in front of me with that creepy smile, his penis already semi-erect.

  Two kernels of emotion twisted in my gut. One was cold and hard. If you turned it toward the light, shimmers would appear in the translucent cracks, nearly impossible to see. The other lump was dark but blazing. The heat seemed like it would scorch everything to the ground.

  Gavin moved closer, his smile fixed as he laid his hands on each of my feet, walked them up my shins, over my knees, until he gripped my thighs. He forced them as far apart as they would go, the clang of the metal stirrups reaching their limit echoing in my ears. Then he was between my legs.

  Watching his rapist hands touch my body while barely feeling the sensation shook me inside, but somehow removed me from the moment as well.

  He lifted the scalpel from next to me, delicately tracing it over my hip as he went, creating a thin red line.

  I didn’t wince, not feeling the cut at all.

  “Those beady eyes aren’t quite cutting it. Let’s see if I can generate an expression that will turn me on better.” He stroked himself, making his penis rise. “I want our first time to be magical.”

  My brain stuttered as he lifted the scalpel to hover over my breasts.

  Let me handle this. It was no surprise that Wynn’s thoughts including images of creating a eunuch out of him.

  I wasn’t opposed but couldn’t get beyond the fact that there was no physical way we could move to protect ourselves.

  He carved down the side of my left breast, deeper than he had on my hip. I wasn’t sure if it was the sight of it or the drug wearing off, but I could swear I felt the pain. A drip of blood rolled down my side. I managed to curl my hands into fists.

  Gavin zeroed in on the movement. “Ah, you are getting feeling back.” He leaned his face closer to mine, gazing into my eyes. “But still no tears. I’m disappointed.”

  As he moved the scalpel to my other breast, I could feel the reins on my control slipping.

  “P-Pathe…tic,” I heard myself hiss, forcing the words out between our teeth.

  The blade halted. “What did you say to me?” Gavin asked, his smile freezing as his eyes narrowed.

  “D-Dick…less b-bastard.” My voice firmed as Wynn focused, throwing the words at him. “You’re pathetic.”

  His face hardened, all the creepy happiness melting. “It’s pretty obvious I’ve got a dick.” He stroked it again to accentuate the words, but his tone didn’t quite reach the flippant one he was aiming for.

  We forced our eyes to look at it. “That’s all…you’ve got?” I felt myself swallow, gathering the next insult. “It’ll go limp…before you…get it in.”

  His hand arced down, missing my breast, but drawing a line down my stomach. “You bitch! I’ll teach you who’s in charge.” He slapped me. Our head jerked against the restraint.

  “Drugged me…bound me.” The words spilled out between clenched teeth. “Chicken shit…can’t handle…me.” Our lips edged up into the semblance of a smirk. “Bet…Mommy issues.”

  His hands flew to his head, his eyes squeezing shut. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

  Wynn went back to the word he seemed to hate, drawing it out. “Pathetic.”

  He shouted, a guttural animal noise, and whirled around, ripping open another curtain. Inside was a girl, naked and bound just like me.

  “No,” she moaned. “God, please no. Not again.”

  He smiled shakily, squeezing her breast. Her body flailed against the straps holding her down as she cried out. His smile settled.

  The flame inside me was instantly banked, something icy twisting in my gut.

  The scalpel clattered when it hit the floor, freeing his hands. He forced one between her legs.

  The girl started to sob, repeating one word over and over. “No, no, no, no.”

  “This is that bitch’s fault,” Gavin snarled, replacing his hand. He grunted as he slammed into her.

  My mind filled to bursting as I heard her scream. I jerked against my own restraints.

  “Her fault!” he repeated with each thrust.

  Pathetic asshole, Wynn railed, back inside my head. We’ll kill him slo
wly. The image of that scalpel slitting his stomach open, my hands playing with the intestines inside, didn’t fully block out the sight actually in front of me. You don’t have to watch.

  Watching didn’t feel like anywhere near enough penance.

  There are other things to think about. What about Mother?

  My breath caught, an ache forming in my chest, lodging under my ribs. I hadn’t made it home with her pills.

  The crying and grunting next to me reached a crescendo. My hands jerked against the straps again, wrists beginning to ache. The index finger of my right hand brushed over my thumb, tracing the raised burn scar.

  Gavin groaned, arching deep and then becoming still, his face contorting. I’d read somewhere that orgasms were little deaths.

  I wonder if we’ll see that expression again when we kill him. Wynn snorted in my head. At least Mr. Psycho is also Mr. Fast.

  The girl’s sobs turned into shuddering hiccups as he pulled out. He leaned his face into hers, his tongue licking the path of her tears. Her head didn’t even bother moving, a low moan leaking past her lips, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

  Wynn railed in my head, but I was terrified to let her loose again. It didn’t seem like I would be the one to suffer the consequences.

  We didn’t know.

  Ignorance was never an excuse.

  Gavin straightened, the smile firmly back in place as he sighed in contentment. He bent, picking up the scalpel, and turned to face me. He didn’t seem bothered by his nudity, cloaked in his arrogance like a nasty cologne. A sheen of sweat matted his chest hair. His penis was still semi-erect, and it glistened under the fluorescent lights.

  My legs jerked, automatically trying to close. I hated the vulnerability that had been thrust upon me.

  He smirked. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to waste myself on a ball-busting bitch.” His measured steps brought him swiftly to my side where he pressed the sharp instrument against my neck.

  I felt a trickle of blood from where he nicked me. A calm filled my limbs, flitting through my mind like wind, emptying it. Finally, I faced the swift death I yearned for.

  “That means I have no use for you.” His eyes hardened further, the green flat like dark moss, with no reflection. “And I discard useless things.”

  “Don’t kill her.” I recognized the smooth voice. Reeve stepped forward from the darker hallway. He didn’t move into the room far, leaning against the wall, one foot raised and pressed flat on it.

  Gavin straightened, the cold metal leaving my neck. “This isn’t like you.”

  Reeve shrugged, but his half-lidded eyes stayed on me. “I’m bored.”

  “So find another toy to play with.” Gavin glared at me. “This one’s fate has been decided.”

  Reeve’s head shifted along the wall as he shook it. “No.” There was a bite to his tone that hadn’t been there before.

  Gavin’s finger twitched on the scalpel.

  “Absolutes are boring,” Reeve continued. “At least make it interesting.”

  Gavin bared his teeth at me in the parody of a smile. “A quick death is too good for her.” He placed the scalpel on a metal tray and moved to the neatly folded stack of clothes to begin dressing. “Still, I’m surprised, Reeve. They seem to be a renewable resource lately. Especially now that you’re here, luring them in with that honey charm.” He pulled his shirt over his head and smoothed it down. “Plus, I’d think you’d want to take retribution. I mean, she’s the only person I’ve ever seen mark you.”

  Reeve ran his finger along the faint scratch, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles. “It was certainly surprising.”

  Gavin shook his head as he turned away. “Whatever. You deal with them. I need a rest.” He strode from the room. The area was quiet except for the other girl’s soft crying.

  Chapter 4

  I was still naked and tied to a metal table like an offering, but Reeve’s eyes stayed on mine, not roaming over my bared body. His interest in me seemed like a different kind.

  Yes, he’s hopefully not another rapist, but he still kidnapped you, Wynn snapped.

  I jerked my hands against the restraints. “Can you release me?”

  He sighed but pushed off the wall. Pausing when he reached me, he traced a finger along the cut on his cheek. “No repeats.”

  I tried to nod, but my head hit the strap.

  He made short work of them and soon I was rolling off the table to the floor, my legs still rubbery and shaking. I dressed as quickly as I could.

  “Let’s go,” he said, motioning with a hand.

  I halted, looking over at the sobbing girl. “Shouldn’t she come, too?”

  He looked over at her and then shrugged. “She’s already broken.”

  I ignored him, closing the distance to her table. Up close, her soft crying sounded more like a name. “Adam, Adam, Adam.”

  My fingers fumbled at first but after I opened and closed them a few times I made better progress releasing her. Her limbs curled in on the table and her head tucked under her arm. I hesitated but reached for her. My fingers barely brushed her skin before she curled tighter.

  “Does she have a name?” I asked Reeve.

  He leaned back against the wall. “I can’t remember all of the girl’s names, Rowena.”

  I looked at him sharply, taking in the faint smile as his eyes lingered on me.

  Taking a breath, I focused back on the girl. “Come on,” I murmured to her. “Let’s get you dressed.” Her clothes had been folded neatly as well, a t-shirt and jeans with a blue and black baseball cap perched on top.

  Her whimpering abruptly stopped. She turned her head enough to look through the bend in her arm. “Stay away from me,” she hissed.

  I jerked back, wide eyes meeting her narrowed ones. “I’m so sorry.”

  She buried her head again, ignoring me.

  “Come, don’t come, I don’t care,” Reeve said, heading for the door.

  I watched her still figure, biting my lip. Reaching out again, I said, “Let me–”

  She rolled off the table in the opposite direction, grabbing her clothes. “I don’t need your pity.” She jerked on each piece, jamming the cap over her curls, making them bush around it. She tried to stride forward but swayed, her body betraying her.

  “Lean on me,” I offered, reaching out one more time.

  “Don’t touch me!” She shoved me harder than I would have thought she had the energy for.

  Stumbling, I knocked over the metal tray with a clatter, taking it down to the floor with me. Something sharp nicked my finger, and I closed my hand around it, shoving it into my pocket as I stood, the slight bulge covered by my shirt.

  The girl strode ahead, exiting the room in pursuit of Reeve, who really hadn’t waited. I trailed behind them, confused by the lax attitude.

  As we passed through the house it became more apparent why. All the windows were bricked over, not letting even the thought of sunshine through. I couldn’t see any possible exits besides the front door which was locked with keyed dead bolts.

  When Reeve led us down another set of stairs, I was surprised. Basements weren’t common in areas below sea level.

  Reeve paused before a doorway at the bottom. The girl slunk past him, making sure she didn’t touch him at all. Reeve watched me as if waiting for me to do the same.

  Wynn provided pictures of us leaping forward, using the sharp object to slit his throat.

  I ignored her, deciding to stride past.

  When I was beside him, he suddenly grabbed my arm, twirling me until I hit the wall with a thud. He leaned into me, his hand digging into my pocket. The scalpel he held up between us glinted in the low fluorescent lighting of the concrete hallway.

  He chuckled softly. “You’re full of surprises.”

  I bit my tongue to keep Wynn’s words back.

  After some sort of sleight of hand, the scalpel disappeared. He backed off, having
gotten what he wanted. His whole body lounged against the wall behind him, but I wasn’t fooled. He could move fast enough when he wanted to.

  I stepped forward, ready to slip past him, but there was one thing I wanted to know. “Why didn’t you let him kill me?”

  Reeve reached out a hand, barely brushing a bloody spot that had seeped through my shirt. “What would be the fun in that?”

  Startled, I jerked back, but he had already turned away, heading up the stairs. After long moments a door shut, the locks clicking in place.

  Facing the doorway again, I slowly moved forward. My mind had conjured the worst, dirt floors with chains attached to the walls and ceilings to lock us up for torture. I was more startled when it turned out to be the opposite. A couple of thickly cushioned couches with throw pillows were on one side next to a stocked bookshelf, and a couple of bunk beds were on the other with blankets and more pillows. A door was centered in the wall opposite from my entrance, and I could hear the hushed beat of a shower humming behind it.

  The girl from before was no where in sight. Instead, there were two other girls.

  “Welcome,” one said with a delicate smile. She set a book aside on the couch and rose. Her long, baby-fine, straight hair swayed for a moment before settling.

  “Don’t say that, Darla,” the other girl snapped. She gripped the upper edge of a bunk bed tightly between her hands before releasing it, straightening. “She’s another prisoner like the rest of us.”

  Darla shook her head slowly. “All of us are here for a reason.”

  The responding snort was more than audible. “And that reason is to be raped, tortured, and killed.” The other girl crossed her arms over her tank top. “Lucky us.”

  “No,” Darla responded, but there was no snap in her voice. “We are being built into better disciples for this broken world.” Her gaze wandered the room to settle on the door to the bathroom. “I can’t imagine a more broken place than this.”

  “That I can agree with.” The other girl grimaced. “Don’t let the comfy props fool you. We’re in hell.”

  “Becca,” Darla admonished the girl gently.

  “Right, right.” Becca waved a hand like she was swatting a fly. “Hell is just the lack of God’s presence.” Her smile was more a baring of teeth. “I guess I’m stuck in hell no matter where I go.”