23. The Sinner
Chapter twenty-three
The Sinner
Dinah
T he three of us make our way towards the basement level of the abandoned house in the semi-dark. I searched for lights at the top of the stairs but was unable to find any, and that worries me. I don’t want us stepping into a well-laid trap set by that fucker Noah. The gloomy darkness looks eerie, and has a chill racing down my limbs. The air smells damp, stale, and moldy, as Abe, Zeke, and I make our way down the aged, rickety wooden stairs that groan with our weight. My fingertips trail over the rough stone walls, and I have to force myself to swallow the scream that gets trapped in my throat, as cobwebs brush against my face with their silky strands. I have always been afraid of the dark, even as a small girl. My brother would come and wrap his arms around me when I woke with nightmares, keeping me safe, and singing softly to me to calm me. Now he’s gone, and I’m once again afraid of the boogeyman who lays in wait. Everything inside of me is telling me to turn around, and run back up towards the light, that nothing but monsters are down here, ready and waiting to devour me. “Jesus, this fucking place is right out of a damn nightmare,” Abe utters, his deep voice rumbling in the darkness, and mimicking my thoughts.
I stumble taking the next step, and Zeke reaches out and grasps my shoulder, to prevent me from falling forward and taking Abe down with me. “Steady, Snow.” His warm breath brushes against the side of my neck, and reassures me that I’m not alone. I feel his strength seeping into me, making me stand taller and firmer, in my need to rid the world of his father. When we reach the bottom, dread begins to pour through my veins, the darkness feeling endless and oppressive. Its weight is almost suffocating, and causes my limbs to lock up tightly. What if this is a trap? What if I am once again leading us to our deaths? My thoughts circle round and round in my head, causing my anxiety to rise, and my breath to labor in my chest. Fuck, get it together, Dinah, be strong.
I’m about to suggest that we turn around, and head back up and just set fire to the whole place. That will cause all the cockroaches that are hiding to have to escape from their concealment, and we can just shoot them one by one when they appear. When we reach the bottom, a narrow corridor begins to widen, the further away we walk from the stairs, opening into a larger space where the air is even heavier and more oppressive. I release a shaky exhale, willing my body to cooperate, and my heart rate to slow down. “I’ve never been down here, not even when I was a kid. It always scared the shit out of me,” Zeke mumbles, as he searches for some source of lighting, but he comes up empty. Fucking great; even Zeke sounds freaked out. My mind is practically screaming for me to run.
“It feels like we’re entering the bowels of hell. Good thing you’re related to all the devils, huh, Zeke?” Abe jokes in a low tone, but I’m not in the mood to play along with his mischief. My ears strain for any sounds besides ours. Noah has to be down here somewhere, just waiting to murder me, to murder all of us. I’ve ruined all his plans to take over the Brotherhood, brought chaos to the Order, and made him run like a dog, with his tail tucked between his legs, and into hiding, and taken his son and turned him against him. There’s no way Noah will allow those offenses to go unchallenged; his massive ego won’t permit it. He’s itching to end my life, especially when he failed with his first attempt, after my marriage to his son. Now he’s used Sammy as a means to destroy me, and failed once more. Will the third time around be the one that sticks? Fuck, I hope not.
A small sound catches my attention, and has me turning quietly, and cocking my head in the direction I think it’s coming from. Zeke’s vibrant green eyes meet my glance, his face partially obscured by shadows. The only source of light is coming in from a small, dirty window, high up at the top of the wall, that barely displays the cloud-covered moonlight. Zeke tightens his grip on my bicep, signaling for me to follow him soundlessly. Abe continues forward for the moment, oblivious to us changing directions. I reach back, standing on the tips of my toes, wrapping my palm around his mouth, which causes him to still, and nod my head in Zeke’s direction. The three of us move soundlessly, like ghosts traveling upon this earthly plane, invisible and ready to terrorize the living. The thought of all the pain I’m going to cause Noah Rothesay has excitement reheating my limbs with blood lust, and chasing away some of the fear that was enveloping me. I pull out my blade, and tighten my hold on its handle, ready to strike at anything that moves. In my mind, I picture Noah’s blood coating the metal surface, his large, green eyes begging me for mercy, as I stab him again and again. The time for mercy is done, that is, if it ever existed to begin with.
The noise sounds again, a barely there squeak breaking the silence. It seems to be coming from a section lined with thick shelves built into the stone walls. The darkness is thicker in certain spots, shrouding the contents of the space in menacing shadows. Abe strides forward, apprehension lining his large frame, as he’s just as wary of an attack as I am. My lips open, ready to tell him to return to my side, that we will go back and get reinforcements, and proper lighting, so we can compel that fucker, Noah, out of his rat hole, when something lunges at him from the shadows, throwing itself at his side and causing him to be unbalanced and crash into the wall, while it releases a sharp hiss. “FUCK!” Abe shouts.
At first, I can’t figure out what is attacking him. It’s a dark, small shadow barely discernible in the dim light, but too small to be a man Noah’s size. The smell is the first thing to accost me, as Abe grapples with it and forces it to release its hold. Death and rot. Whatever is clinging to Abe, and snarling viciously, is more dead than alive. Zeke strides forward and slams his fist down, forcing it to release its hold on Abe. The silhouette drops to the hard-packed, earthy ground with a cry, as Zeke kicks at it again and again. “Fuck, is it an animal?” Abe questions, his loud voice filled with shock as he moves closer to it. I reach forward, fisting a part of it and dragging it forward into the dim light. My fingers immediately feel grimy and greasy, as they encounter what I believe might be hair or fur. I launch it away from me, and it hits the hard stone wall with a groan. “Human, or at least it was once,” I reply as I grip my blade and advance on it, ready to put whatever it is out of its misery. In the back of my mind, a thought prods at me, what if it’s someone Noah abused, and kept prisoner, like Sammy?
“W-wh... ore...” The screeched word catches my attention, and has me halting. A beam of moonlight shines off a filthy face with a set of dark eyes, peering at me from below a halo of ragged, dirty hair. “Mom?” Zeke questions as he stands at my side, ready to defend me. Mom? What. The. Fuck? Can this really be Esther? “ Demon ...“ The creature whispers and curves in on itself, attempting to make itself as small a target as possible. “Jesus fuck, what has Dad done to you?” Zeke utters as he tries to reach out his hand, and is rewarded with a whimper. “Don’t... touch... me!”
“I found a box of matches and some old books. Move aside, Atasi. I’m going to set fire to this shit, hoping we get a better look at her.” Abe throws a pile of old books down in a corner, and strikes a match against the stone wall, momentarily brightening the room. I get my first glance at Esther. Holy shit , my stomach rolls with what I see, and bile races up the back of my throat. Abe lights the books up, and their dry pages take quickly, casting a soft amber glow to the confined space.
Esther sits on the hard ground, her knees pressed to her chest, and her bare legs and feet exposed. Her head rests against knees, and her arms are wrapped around her head, shielding her eyes from the light. Filthy is an understatement; she’s covered in dirt, cobwebs, bruises, cuts, and oozing sores all over her flesh. Her once luxurious, thick, dark hair, which she took so much pride in, is disheveled, missing chucks in various spots, exposing dry, crusted bald spots along her scalp, where it looks like her tresses have been ripped out. She raises her face to glare at us, and her appearance steals my breath. She’s gaunt and pale, her eyes too large and wide on the surface of her age-lined face. More bleeding and pus-filled sores cover its surface, along with bruises in various states of healing, and she’s had her nose broken recently, based on the swelling. She’s been beaten badly and starved, and her emaciated form, barely covered by a ragged scrap of fabric, becomes more apparent as her hair moves, and uncovers her stick-thin limbs to our disbelieving eyes. “Jesus fuck, I’m going to be sick,” Abe groans and moves away from her.
As much as I pity what has become of Esther, at the hands of her demonic husband, I also remember that she used her position in the Brotherhood for years to hurt others, my mother and myself included. Regardless, no one should have to endure what she obviously has, at the hands of the man who was supposed to protect her. Noah Rothesay is a man who has always hated women, and this is evident in his treatment of each one he encounters. My mother, Sarah, and Esther have all been among his countless victims. “There is no reward greater than kindness,” my mother’s voice echoes through my head, and as much as I would love to listen to her teachings, she’s never seen what I have. “Where is your husband?” I question, swallowing down the morsel of pity that demands I help her. Not now, Dinah, we have to remain strong. Weakness is death.
Without warning, she lunges at my legs with an ear-splitting scream, and knocks me down. Her frail-looking body belies her strength, as she snarls and scratches at me with her ragged nails. “Lost... everything... you... whore. Take you... to hell.” Her teeth snap in my face, her breath smelling of rot as I try to restrain her, and she’s ripped off me by Zeke, with his large forearm wrapping around her thin throat, as he yanks her backward. Her cries have large rats scattering from their hiding spots below the shelving unit, and dashing toward the stairs. I jump to my feet with a scream, filled with disgust as they pass us. I move closer to Zeke, who has her arms and legs pinned with his own, and is breathing heavily. You can see the turmoil and disgust on his face at his mother’s condition. “Are those bites?” Abe nods towards her oozing legs, and I get a glimpse of all the sections that are missing flesh. Oh my God, the rats have been gnawing at her. I consider myself a strong person, fuck, I’m a serial killer, and have decapitated and tortured many men, but this... this is something else altogether. This is evil in its truest form. “Did Noah do this to you?” I demand.
Esther continues to struggle against Zeke’s restraining hold, with what little strength she has left. Incoherent moans and words leave her lips, as she thrashes, hurting herself further. I decipher a word here and there of her rambling, and understanding begins to fill in the missing pieces. “He abused her, punished her for having to run and hide from us, and the rebels, like those fucking rats,” I motion with my head towards the stairs and the fleeing rodents. “It sounds like he kept her confined and starved, and the rats got to her until she could release herself.” A shudder runs through my body, at the horrific picture my mind paints of what she must have endured, trapped here in the darkness.
“That sick fuck, how could he do this to her? She’s stood by his side for years, unwavering even with all the abuse and humiliation he’s put her through, and he goes and does this shit?” Zeke releases his mother and moves away, as if he can’t stand even to touch her. His repulsion is evident on his face as he drags his hands through his hair, and yanks on the strands in distress, his horror-filled eyes meeting mine. The smell of the burning books helps disguise some of the stench of Esther’s rotting flesh, but the thickening smoke is starting to choke us. We can’t stay here much longer. We are running out of time.
I squat down in front of Esther, meeting her unhinged gaze, filled with pain and the atrocities she’s survived, at the hands of her husband. “Tell me where he is, and I promise you he will endure a more agonizing death than the one he left you to.” There is no point in promising her that we will save her; she’s not far from death now. Even if I could save her, I know that I won’t. “I will end your suffering quickly, Esther. Just tell me what I want to know.” I try to soften my tone, as if I was dealing with a frightened animal, which right now is a pretty accurate assessment of Esther, if you add in bat shit crazy to the list.
She must see something in my eyes, that reassures her that I won’t go back on my words, and she must crave death with all the pain her body is in. “ Gone. When... fighting... started. Tunnel... behind... the wall.“ She motions with her head towards the shelving unit behind us, and Abe quickly races over and yanks on it, causing it to move with a heavy groan. A tunnel opens behind a hidden partition, menacing and promising to swallow us in its darkness. “Where does it lead, mom?” Zeke questions. She hesitates for a moment and releases a hoarse choking breath, a trickle of blood sliding from her mouth, and down her chin. “Field, behind the... house,” her breath wheezes out of her with every painful syllable.
I pull the blade forward, prepared to end her suffering once and for all, but Zeke grasps my hand and takes it from me. “It should be me,” he whispers, and I release my hold on the handle. He gets on his knees before his mother, his back rising and falling with his heavy breaths. I want to force him to give me back the blade, so that he doesn’t have to go through with this. He shouldn’t have to murder his mother. Even though Esther is a nasty cunt, no one should have to bear that on their soul. “I... hate... you,” Esther utters as she meets his glance. “Wish you had died at... birth...” She doesn’t get another word out. Zeke slashes forward with the sharp blade across her throat, and her blood pours from the slit, covering her in a dark red wave. She makes one last loud and ragged sound, clutching at her throat as her dark blood pools out of her, before her body collapses backward, hitting the ground with a thud.
He gets up and wipes the blood on the knife on his pant leg, before handing the blade back to me, hilt first, his dark green eyes meeting mine with anger. “I’m sorry, Zeke,” the words feel hollow as I speak them. The truth is I’m sorry for the young boy who once upon a time loved his mother. I’m sorry for the man who had to commit matricide against a woman who should have loved him, and protected him from his father. I don’t regret that Esther is dead. The only things she ever did right in this lifetime were to give birth to Zeke, and tell us now that Noah has managed to escape. “I’m not. She should have died years ago.” He turns away and towards the dark tunnel. “My father’s next to die at my hands, then I’ll finally get my greatest wish. I’ll finally be a fucking orphan.”