Collateral Damage

C H A P T E R 5

C H A P T E R 5

COLLATERAL DAMAGE

Puppeteer

I heard the glass. But I wasn't born yesterday. No idiot is going to clamber through a broken window in pyjamas, most likely barely covering their skin. My bat is now wedged firmly inside the door protecting them from me and a sinister snarl falls slyly against my mouth as a yelp breaches through the walls. I don't hurt children, but they seem too smart to be that young. I was in the middle of setting the house ablaze before whoever this was ruined it. I guess I still could. I'd just have to hang around a while to make sure whoever this is, doesn't get out alive.

Their blood is smeared against the rubber souls of my boots and I can feel their heartbeat through the still air. I've been where they are more times than I would like to admit, fearful of my life. Fearful of evil, fearful of the Devil . And although I may not be him, part of his black heart poisoned mine in the process when exchanging my freedom. I inhabit a darkness that finds pleasure in this game of hide and seek, but it won't last long. My patience is slim and they are running it out rapidly.

I wait, even tempered behind the door for around five minutes before they finally buck up the courage to beeline for the front door. More fun for me . The door flings open abruptly, thudding echoes through the empty hallway before reaching my leathered hand to grip their forearm. It's pitch black up here but her dark, pin straight hair and blanc skin against the shadows that encapsulate us are nothing short of an eyesore.

Lilies and butterscotch sting my nose as her hair fights with the dead breeze, obstructing her sight as her body swings clockwise to face me and a hearty gush of blood slices my arm. The bitch caught me with a knife. I let my guard drop, shaking off the pain as she legs it down the maze of corridors that make up this house, but there is only one way down.

And that is past me.

I yank my weapon from the door frame, tugging it down a notch, wiggling it to release, snapping the bonds and leaving splinters to ride up the centre as I stride after her. Dragging the nails across the wood I stalk the top floor, slowly, with malice waiting for her to run her little legs down the stairs where I will be waiting.

It doesn’t take long for her to leg it for the opening and my bat meets the back of her calf muscle, the nails tearing her skin spilling a river down the backs of her sweaty flesh, listening to her sweet cries of pain. I wouldn’t have to hurt her if she didn’t run. She crawls across the floor slowly, dragging her immobile leg behind her as she floods the floor with her tears.

“Please!” She pleads, but I take no notice. I haven't got time for this. I need to get out of here. My impatience is getting the best of me. Turning her to face me, I’m ready to drive my switch blade across her delicate little throat and watch her bleed out slowly across the floor for me but as our eyes meet, I gently pierce the sharp edge into her jugular and she gapes at the horror that I am with my mask glaring back at her, taking in her final moments, pools spilling over her cheeks. She’s blubbering words I cannot understand beneath her breath and I twist my split tongue, rubbing each fork against the piercings in my mouth, sucking in her pain as her eyes catch me completely off guard, so full of sadness and fear. I feel like I am looking at my own reflection, frightening me to let her go. This is unusual, this feeling is foreign to me, I’ve never hesitated?

She thumps to her elbows, ready to crawl away and in my moment of weakness I almost lose her. I grab the bottom of her silky white shirt pulling her back below me as I lace rope around her petite wrists, so tiny I could snap them and prop her up against the nearest wall.

“Please don’t do this! Please let me go!” She murmurs as I mute her with tape, blocking out her voice driving my guilt as I begin to pace back and forth collecting my thoughts, her incessant whining breaking beneath me through her muzzle, eating at my frustration. All of this is wrong, everything is wrong, she wasn’t supposed to be here, why is she here, who even is she? How the hell did I miss this? There are no records of a fucking kid. If there was, I would have gone about this entirely differently! Cries bleed through my subconscious, blocking my concentration until I snap.

“Will you shut the fuck up!... I don't want to hurt you. Don’t make me hurt you. Please. Be a good girl and Shhhh…” I slowly kneel to her level, rubbing my leather finger against the soaked tape, smouldered in salty tears as she wriggles away from my touch, snatching her head to the side to unlink us but my grasp finds her chin, yanking her back to look into the eyes of the monster before her, tapping her cheek with sweet abuse three times.

The whining stops.

“There we go…” I can finally hear myself fucking think.

Gasoline . That’s what I was doing until I was rudely interrupted. I holster her body over my shoulder carrying her downstairs and place her by the front door before heading to the basement for the gasoline I was searching for buried underneath tools and building materials. Gotcha .

I can just burn the evidence, and it will be investigated as a house fire, that way there is no trace of me or this thing I’m now going to have to fucking figure out what to do with, but I will get to that later, right now I just need to get out of here.

I begin to pour gasoline coating the downstairs floor from the basement all the way to the front door as I close in on her, finding her shuffling her front across the floor towards the exit, dripping her gash all over the floor as she pulls her feeble body towards freedom like I won’t catch her. Stupid girl. I drop the canister and creep towards her vulnerable body, bleeding under my boot as I grab her by the ankles, dragging her through her own mess, pressing her against the wall as my hand meets her throat.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She’s trembling, vibrating my fingers with pure fear and I want to let her run, but I can’t. Not now . So I tie her to the stair banister, securing her in place while I finish ransaking this place. Her glossy sadness sheets her gaze, and I exhale a heavy sigh. I suppose I am going to have to take her with me now aren't I. Fabulous, just what I fucking needed. I run for her room, grabbing a bag from the back of her door, filling it with things she may possibly need, clothes, a book sat on her bed side table and an elephant teddy sat on her bed. That’ll do. She’s lucky I'm not a complete dick.

I get back down to greet her, she's rocking her head back and forth, clamping her eyes closed to shake her nightmare that is very much real, no matter how many times she sits there and tries to wake up, I am her living nightmare . I look at the canister and decide against the idea. If she manages to escape me some day, she may need a home to come back to. Just as I did.

She refuses to look at me but I stroke away the wet strands of hair from her face anyway. I’m sorry Love.

“Sleep tight.” The blunt end of my blade finds the side of her temple, quick and sharp, knocking her unconscious.

“Easy does it…” I catch her head in the palm of my hand as she limps her deadweight into me, cradling her fall. I don’t have sedatives on me right now, they are in the car so that was the next best thing, I couldn’t risk her screaming outside. I know she lives in the middle of butt fuck nowhere but I haven’t a clue where the next house is or about the area. The sharp end finds the tie, cutting the rope to free her from the stairs.

“Come on Princess . Let's go.” I murmur, my arms looping underneath her arms and legs, exiting the front door of the building as I carry her to my car, realising how absolutely ridiculous this is. I’ve never kidnapped anyone. Holding someone against their will is as far as I've gone. What the fuck am I meant to do now? Do I kill her? Do I let her go? Do I get the fuck out of here before she has a chance to turn me in? Do I just finish what I fucking started and kill us both?

I sedate her to make sure she doesn’t wake for at least six hours while I figure out what the hell I'm meant to do from here. I lug her into the back seat along with her bag, propping her up against the window so it looks like she is just sleeping. Luckily no one will be on the road at this time and they won’t be found until at least the middle of next week so I'm safe.

For now.