Mary Burton - Senseless

Saturday, April 1, Midnight

Duct tape muffled the womans hoarse moans as a hooded figure stoked the glowing embers in the basement hearth. She had been screaming and struggling, hoping to get her captors attention since shed started awake was it an hour ago? Two hours? Down in this cellar prison, time leaked away like the drip, drip of water from an overhead pipe.

No amount of crying or rattling of chains against the stone floor diverted the shadowy figures attention from the flames that hungrily danced and licked the logs in the ancient hearth. Twig by twig, her jailer tenderly fed the flames as a mother might nourish a child, never paying her a moments attention. In this dank place, she was invisible, of no greater consequence than the three-legged chair leaning in the shadowy corner or the trash bags piled by the rickety staircase.

The hard, uneven stone floor dug into her back, cramping her muscles, numbing her skin and driving home the realization that thered be no escape. She was going to die.

She closed her eyes, the thud of her heart mingling with the crackle of the fire and the clink of the andiron against the blackened grate cradling the logs. Since childhood, shed been told she didnt deserve happiness or a full life. Bad girl. You are a bad girl. All her life, she railed against those messages, grabbing or stealing what she could to not only survive but also to prevail. Maybe the dark message funneled into her soul since the cradle was right. Bad girls always came to a bad end.

Despair rose up in her like a black storm cloud, wrapping around her throat and beckoning her to relent. It would be so easy to give in to her predestined fate. So easy just to close her eyes and let the darkness slide over her.

As she eased toward the mental abyss, ready to surrender to fate, a primal survival urge jerked her back from the edge.

No! You want to live! You deserve to live!

She opened her eyes and stared at her captor. He wasnt so large. He didnt look so strong. Or so evil. Perhaps she could wedge a bit of reason under his icy exterior and get him to take pity.

Drawing on what little energy remained in her limbs, she kicked and screamed, but he didnt shift his gaze from the fire.

God, what was he planning? What could he want with her? As her mind tumbled over increasing vicious scenarios, fear and panic reignited her struggles.

Please, God, get me out of this. A thousand promises, I swears and resolutions raced through her mind as she bartered with God.

And then a miracle came in the form of a loud thump from upstairs. The noise cut through the stream of I swears. She craned her neck toward the rickety staircase that led to the upper floor. Someone had arrived! Her heart pounded faster, harder and her stomach coiled like a tight spring.

She studied her captors posture, searching for a sign. Was the upstairs arrival good or bad? Did this creep have some sick friend whod come to enjoy this party? Or did she have a savior?

His narrow shoulders stiffened and an abrupt jerk of his head toward the door told her that the guest was uninvited.

Hope exploded. Maybe someone had come! Maybe someone had figured out that shed been kidnapped.

Oh, God. Oh, God. Please send someone to save me!

She jerked against her bindings and screamed muffled pleas, projecting her voice beyond the tape.

Sunglasses and a hood hid a great deal, but she caught traces of a scraggly beard as he carefully laid down his iron and climbed the stairs to the first floor. He unlocked a shiny new padlock on the basement door, opened it and vanished.

Her heart thundered in her chest as she strained to listen. Above, the ceiling creaked as her jailer crossed the first floor in search of the intruder.

Someone, please, save me.

Floorboards creaked with light tentative footsteps of the newcomer who moved about the upstairs freely. As the seconds passed, the footsteps grew more confident as if the new arrival wasnt expecting company.

Be careful! Hes waiting for you!

She screamed until her throat burned, but the duct tape muffled her words, garbling all her warnings.

The intruder moved across the first floor. Her jailer remained still, lying in wait, like a snake ready to strike.

And then a loud scream, Shit!

A scuffle followed. Bodies slammed against walls. Glass hit the floor and shattered. A subdued groan and something large slammed the floor, as if a body had crumpled under its own weight. And then silence.

The womans heart jackhammered her ribs so hard she thought bones would crack as she frantically twisted her hands and stared at the door, hoping for a miracle. Who had won the battle? She struggled against her bindings, willing the hemp to snap even as it cut into her flesh.