Watcher in the Woods
Catapult into Death
[RECAP: Amy is kidnapped, and chained in an underground, root cellar, by a vicious, serial killer. After hours of hanging in the dark cellar, her captor takes her to an abandoned cabin, hidden deep within the Blue Ridge Mountains. Rudy, her beloved Golden Retriever, lies in the snow, dying from a gunshot wound, received while trying to save Amy. Sky, the love of Amy’s life, walks the desolate forest, following snow-mobile tracks, she believes lead to Amy. Now Amy sits on a couch, her naked body, covered with only a blanket. Her captor hoovers over her, taunting her and beckoning her to look into the fire place, where he has thrown her clothes, to burn.]
(To read Amy’s story from the beginning visit here)
He leaned in even closer, and Amy feared he would kiss her, but instead he put his lips to her ear and whispered, “Enjoy their warmth…they will never touch your body again.”
Amy looked into the blaze, burning within the fireplace, in front of her. There was no trace of the jeans or tee-shirt she’d worn earlier. Obviously, they had burned to ash a long time ago. As she gazed into the fire, she wondered what he would destroy next.
Before standing, he kissed her on top of the head, and said bluntly, “Dress for dinner, and I’ll not ask twice. I worked my ass off to cook the perfect homecoming meal, and you will sit down, and you will eat it.”
Amy began to protest, but stopped when she saw the determination in his eyes. Silently she chided herself, “…pick your battles Amy…control your damn temper…”
Standing up, from the couch, the blanket, that covered her nakedness, fell to the floor. Without taking her eyes from his, she slid the cotton dress over her head. It slipped weightlessly over her body, the hem fell two inches below her knees.
“Can’t forget these,” he said, as he pulled something from the front pocket of his jeans.
In his hand, lay pair of white panties. Without a word, she took them from his hand and attempted to put them on. As she stepped into them, the fabric pulled across her bandaged ankles, smearing the blood that had seeped through. Amy groaned against the pain, but never-the-less she persisted, to complete the task.
“Careful with those ankles,” he smiled and added, “God, I bet they hurt like a bitch…anything that ugly has got to hurt.” With something akin to pity, he tilted his head, and murmured cloyingly sweet, “Awwww…if you’re a good girl, I’ll be a good boy and redress them later, and, perhaps, I’ll even give you something for the pain.” He clucked his tongue three times and said, “…poor…. poor baby.”
Amy wanted to spit into his smirking face, but she didn’t. Instead she glared into his eyes, revealing her hatred for him.
Pity fell from his face, and instantly, it donned a mask of rage. He grabbed her upper arms and squeezed painfully. “YOU. ARE. MINE.” Then he shook her with such force that Amy felt her teeth chatter. Inches from her face, with his nose almost touching hers, he yelled, “Accept the truth, and the truth will set you FREE!”
He pushed her backwards, but grabbed her before she fell to the floor, then he roughly shoved her into one of the straight back chairs, by the small wooden table, that he had set for two. Amy would have fallen out of the chair, but he held her tightly, preventing another fall. He walked behind her and pushed her chair under the table. With a bit more control, he put his lips to her ear and said, “If he takes him another wife; her food, her raiment, and her duty of marriage, shall he not diminish…Exodus 21:10. God is on my side…you can’t fight this. I will decide what you wear, what you eat, and how you will perform your wifely duties.”
Leaving her there, he turned and walked to the kitchen counter to pour two glasses of red wine. He sat one in front of Amy, and then put his glass, at his place setting across from her. He picked up the empty plates, and once again turned to walk toward the counter.
She watched as he filled both plates with food, from the pans on the stove, and then he promptly turned the knobs to the left, to shut off the heat that had been keeping their dinner warm.
Playing the gentleman, he sat Amy’s plate down first, and followed by setting his own down, across from her. Without a word, he slid into his chair, took his neatly folded napkin, and placed on his lap. Then he looked at her and said with a God-like voice, “Shall we say, grace?”
Amy watched as his face contorted into a horrible grimace, which opened the chasm of his mouth, releasing a series of hysterical cackles. The shrill laughter lasted, what seemed forever, and then, without warning, abruptly stopped. The dead quiet, that followed, unnerved Amy. She looked into the soulless eyes that stared at her, and a chill ran through her body. She realized that in that particular moment, no one was home behind those eyes. Then without warning, his stare refocused, and he broke the silence by saying, “Eat up love. You’ll need your strength for later.” And, just like that, within a second he went from soulless to caring. The sudden change, actually caused Amy to feel dizzy, so she grasped the side of the table to settle her vertigo.
He picked up a knife and fork, cut into the steak in from him, and put it in his mouth. He chewed the meat slowly and swallowed, then cut into the steak again, and followed suit, but, this time, he washed it down with a large gulp of wine.
Amy felt bile rise within her throat, and she seriously thought she would throw up. He, oblivious to her plight, encouraged her sweetly, “Come…come my love, eat your dinner…we have lots yet to do tonight.”
Amy looked down at her plate, and noticed she had no silverware.
He tapped a napkin to both corners of his mouth, and continued sweetly, “Poor Amy has no silverware…what’s a girl to do…hmmmmm? I’m not so sure I can trust you with a knife and fork. God forbid you’d stick me, rather than, the food in your plate. Perhaps soon, you will gain my trust. I’m sure, some day, we will both look back, and laugh at this, our present conundrum. It may be demeaning, but, for the time being, you’ll have to eat with your hands.” He pointed to her steak. “Now pick it up and eat.”
Fighting an urge to gag, Amy whispered, “I’m not hungry.”
“What did you say?”
Again, she whispered, “I’m not hungry.”
“Forgive me…but it sounded like you said, you weren’t hungry…”
Amy looked at him, and, this time, repeated it loud and very clear… “I said…I’M. NOT. HUNGRY.”
He leaned forward, and grabbed both sides of the table. “Do you know what happens to little girls who don’t clean their plates?” He left no pause for her answer. “They get punished…” he continued, “…is that what you want…huh…? Is it? Is it, Amy?”
Amy’s anger grew hot at his prodding. She slammed both hands on the table, causing the dishes to rattle and yelled, “Punished? What the hell do you call being strung up and held captive for hours, in a shitty-smelling, dark hole! Slight of death, I’m not so sure it’s possible to top that!”
Through gritted teeth he answered, “Believe me…it can ALWAYS get worse…don’t try me, Amy…”
Amy leaned forward, and vehemently said, “I don’t want your fucking food!” Then she leaned even closer, “I want to know what you’ve done with my dog!”
At the mention of Rudy, a sinister smile tugged the corners of his mouth.
“Ruuuuuudy…” he taunted, as if calling for him.
“Ruuuuuuuudy…”
“…where are you Ruuuuuuudy? Mommy’s worried about you Ruuuuuuuudy…”
Without warning, he flipped the table over. Amy cringed from the sound of shattering dishes, and the table tumbling across the floor. He grabbed her by the hair, and painfully penned her against his body.
He snarled, “Do you really want to know what happened to your damn dog? I don’t think you do, but here goes…” “I shot poor Ruuuuuuuudy, and then the mangy mutt fell dead at my feet, where I gave him a kick, for good measure. Then I tasered you…you bitch!” He paused only a second, “…and do you want to know what you did? You pissed your pants like an animal, so I strung you up like an animal. You disgust me!” Then he pushed her backwards, and she fell to the floor
Tears of pain, both physical and emotional, ran down Amy’s face. Her heart broke into a hundred pieces at the thought of Rudy being dead. In desperation she screamed, “You’re lying, you son-of-a-bitch, you’re lying! My dog is NOT dead.”
He grabbed her by one of her bloody ankles and began pulling her across the floor, and down a narrow hall.
“Everyone you know is going to die. First, Rudy, and soon, Sky!”
He stopped, by a small door, only 4 foot tall. Its rusty hinges screeched in protest, but with great strength, he pushed the door open, to reveal the contents inside. The room was empty, save for a sleeping bag and a five-gallon bucket. He stooped as he entered, as not to hit his head, but once inside, was able to stand upright, since the room’s ceiling spanned the height of at least 10 feet. He tossed Amy on the sleeping bag, then turned, and ducked once again, to clear the entrance way. From the hallway he said, “I will be gone for long intervals at a time, use the bucket to relieve yourself.” Amy heard the door close, the lock slide into place, and then his footsteps descending down the hall.
Alone in the dark, Amy curled into a fetal position, and cried for Rudy and Sky.
***
Sky’s heart sank. The sight before her caused her to stop dead in her tracks. A lump, of what looked like golden fur, lay beneath the boughs of the fir tree ahead. Sky knew it was Rudy. She willed herself to move forward, once she saw it was Rudy, she fell into the snow, beside her dying dog
She leaned over him gently, and put her arms around his quivering frame. The bloody snow beneath him, soaked into the sleeves of her hoodie, but Sky didn’t give a damn. She held her dog, and sobbed.
She heard him whimper, so, she pulled far enough away, to look into his eyes. His brown eyes were almost glazed over, but then they focused on Sky’s face. When he recognized her, his whimpers turned into pitiful cries. Sky’s heart broke into a million pieces. She held him close and whispered in his ear, “It’s okay, Rudy…it’s going to be okay.”
Sky did her best to sooth him, but still he cried. She pulled away, once again, so Rudy could see her face. His brown eyes connected with her blue eyes, and in that moment, she knew he was trying to tell her about Amy.
“It’s Amy…isn’t it…? Are you trying to tell me about Amy?”
At the sound of Amy’s name, his cries grew louder.
Tears streamed down Sky’s face, and she gently pulled him to her, she whispered, “I’m worried about Amy too.” Sky felt his body relax, as if he knew she understood.
Sky buried her face into Rudy’s neck, “I’m going to get our Amy…and…I’m going to…to…bring her home…” She silently cried into his fur, and cried all the more, as she felt his breathing slow, and then his body go limp in her arms.
After a long moment of silence, Sky laid Rudy’s body back upon the snow. Her heart ached, knowing how cold he must be. She rubbed and kissed his head, “I love you, Rudy…I love you…go to sleep now…it’s going to be…okay.”
Sky stood and looked down at her dog. His eyes were closed and he was still breathing, but barely. She reached around and pulled the revolver from the back of her jeans. She couldn’t bare to see him suffer any more.
***
Continue to part 7
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