Page 8 of The Knucklebone Brothers

I looked at him dead in his nonexistent eyes. "Go to hell," I snarled, my voice a raw, raspy thing.

The Clown Mask tisked, a sound of mock disappointment. "Now, that ain't very nice."

The Burlap Mask sighed, a sound of weary resignation, and started to bring the gag back toward my face. I fought back the only way I could. I shoved my tongue out, a stiff, defiant muscle, a pathetic, desperate barrier against the invasion.

Before he could react, the Clown Mask was behind me. One arm snaked around my chest, pinning my arms to my sides, while his other hand grabbed my chin, forcing my head still. I felt the cold, sharp press of a knife blade against my cheek.

"You're gonna be a good girl now... right?" he whispered, his voice a silky, menacing threat right against my ear. "Or we're gonna have to make this real uncomfortable for you. And you don't want that. So, let's behave, Aurora."

I froze. Every muscle in my body went rigid. The blood drained from my face. My name. He knew my name. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.

"How... how do you know my name?" I whispered, the words barely a puff of air.

They both laughed, a chilling, harmonious sound of genuine amusement.

"We know a lot more than you think we do," the Clown Mask said, his knife still pressed to my skin.

The Burlap Mask took a step closer. "There'll be plenty of time for us to get to know one another," he said, his voice low and promising.

The Clown Mask moved his mouth to caress my ear. "Come on now," he chirped, releasing me and giving me a little shove toward a dark corner of the wagon. "Let's get you to bed."

The Clown Mask laughed, a high, giggling sound that echoed off the walls, and reached for the lamp. He carried it deeper into the wagon, moving it to the far back. The light swirled and spilled across the floor, illuminating a massive cage constructed of thick iron bars. It looked like something they'd use to hold a bear or a wild horse, big enough for a person to stand up in.

Inside the cage sat a crude bed frame made of rusted iron, and hanging from it were heavy chains, rusted cuffs, and a stack of large, intimidating padlocks. It was a prison within a prison, a birdcage for a wild animal.

I stopped dead in my tracks, staring at the cage. I looked from the bars to their masked faces, and then I laughed. It started as a short, sharp breath, but it quickly turned into a cackle, loud and unhinged. I looked back at the cage, my eyes wide with disbelief.

"Absolutely fucking not," I said, my voice shaking with a mix of anger and hysteria. "What is this? Is this a joke? You're gonna lock me in a birdcage?"

The Burlap Mask stared at me, his silence heavy. "Please don't make this harder," he rumbled, his voice a low, gravelly threat. "Just get inside, or he’s gonna have too much fun makin’ you."

I shot the Clown Mask an intense glare, my teeth bared. "Don't fuckin’ touch me!" I hissed.

He stepped closer, his movements fluid and predatory. "Oh, I plan to," he said, his voice dropping into a low, melodic purr. "I plan to do so much to you. You're gonna scream, pretty thing. You're gonna beg. And then... then I'm gonna make you mine."

He leaned in closer, his knife tracing a path down my cheek, the cold steel sending a shiver down my spine. "You think you're tough? You think you're a wildcat? You're just a scared little rabbit, and I'm gonna chase you until you're cornered."

He moved his other hand to my neck, his fingers tightening around my throat. He was choking me. I clawed at his hand, trying to pry it loose. He just laughed, a low, menacing sound, and held me there, squeezing tighter.

I fought back, my legs kicking out, but he was too strong. I was going to pass out, and I knew it. Just as my vision began to fray at the edges, I stopped fighting. I let my body go limp, my breathing shallow and ragged.

The Burlap Mask stepped in, his large hand grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the cage. "Get in," he commanded, his voice low. "Before he changes his mind."

I stumbled forward, my body movin’ on autopilot. I looked at the cage one last time, my eyes full of hate, and then I stepped inside.

I spun around, pressing myself against the cold iron bars on the opposite side, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. "Get the hell away from me," I snarled.

He just chuckled, a low, amused sound. "Now, now, Aurora. A promise is a promise. We're just gettin' you to bed."

He grabbed my arm, his grip like iron, and hauled me toward the crude iron bed frame. I fought him every step of the way, diggin’ my heels into the floor, trying to twist out of his grasp. It was useless. He was stronger, and he was enjoying my struggle.

He shoved me down onto the thin, stained mattress. Before I could scramble away, he was on me, grabbing my wrists. He pulled them above my head, and I heard the cold, metallic click of a cuff locking around one wrist, then the other. He chained me to the headboard, my arms stretched out above me, leaving me completely exposed and helpless.

He leaned over me, his masked face just inches from mine. "There now," he whispered, his voice a sickeningly sweet murmur. "Time to get your beauty rest."

He stood up, admiring his handiwork, his painted grin seeming to widen in the flickering lamplight. "If you're calmed down in the mornin'," he chirped, his voice dripping with condescending amusement, "we'll get you all taken care of."

He turned and walked out of the cage, locking the door behind him. The Burlap Mask watched me for a long moment, his face a blank void, before he turned and followed the Clown Mask out of the wagon. The door slammed shut, the sound echoing in the sudden, suffocating darkness, followed by the decisive thunk of the lock sliding into place.