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I feel blood coursing toward my groin when his eyes go white with panic. My hand trembles as I raise the heavy metal tenderizer and bring it down in an arc above my head. His hand is splayed against the floor from his feeble attempts at getting away from me, and the metal lands with a sickening thud that reverberates off of the concrete walls.
I smile as I lift the weapon again and bring it down to the satisfying sound of bones crunching. The terror in his eyes and his screams fill the air, echoing off the garage walls and through the farmhouse. I hammer into him mercilessly with the meat tenderizer: swinging it down again and again until he is nothing more than a crumpled heap on the floor. His screams no longer ring out, and I hope I didn’t go too far. When Andreas meets his death, I want Alana to be watching from the sidelines.
53
Chapter Fifty Three
Alana
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter as I hear Andreas’ screams of agony reverberate down the decrepit hallways of the house. I fucked up; I shouldn’t have run away. Fear grips my heart, and a million worst-case scenarios bombard my mind while I agonize over what might happen.
I slowly stand from my hiding spot behind a shelf in a utility closet and creep down the hallway. I have to find a window to get out of to go for help. Andreas won’t benefit from me getting caught, and our only chance of salvation is for me to escape. There are two more rooms up here that I haven’t checked, and I use Andreas’ cries to make sure Darien is too busy to be up here looking for me.
I slowly turn the handle of one of the bedroom doors and step inside. What I see is something out of a horror movie. Tables filled with torture tools, whips and chains hanging from the ceiling, and vile sex toys scattered throughout the room. My eyes refuse to make sense of what I’m seeing in the middle of the room. I stare and try to take deep calming breaths to center myself as the realization dawns on me: it’s a gynecological table.
I choke back a scream and lean back against the doorway. The last room I want to get caught in is this one. I hold still and listen, and I still hear Andreas screaming from the garage. Slowly, I turn and walk back into the dark, musty hallway. The carpet is filthy, and the second floor is a stark contrast to the first. I can tell this part of the house has been neglected for a long time.
To my left, there are two more closed doors, and to my right there’s one. I creep along silently and head to the last room on the left. I slowly turn the door handle. When I step into the room, my nose is violently assaulted by the putrid smell of decay. I put my hand over my nose and mouth as I glance over to the bed in the corner of the room. I see a woman sitting back against the massive wooden headboard. She’s wearing a floral nightgown, and her hands are crossed over her abdomen. I catch myself staring at her wrinkled hands, trying to process what about them looks off.
Her hands are covered in strange blisters, and the color of her skin is off. I slowly raise my eyes to her face, and the room closes in on me. The woman is elderly, and her throat is sliced open. Foam escapes from her open mouth, a combination of blood and other bodily fluids. Her eyes are closed, and she’s very obviously dead. There’s no way someone could live through the type of wound my eyes are trying to process.
I stifle a scream and fall to my knees as shock threatens to overtake me. My body begins to tremble, and the only thing that keeps me from becoming comatose is the realization that Andreas’ screams have ceased. Fuck, Darien is going to be up here any second. I try to breathe through my mouth as I crawl toward the bed the deceased woman sits on. I frantically look around for a weapon, and I grab a letter opener laying on the bedside dresser. I roll myself under the bed and listen intently for footsteps.
I hear the sound of someone whistling, and my heart stops as I realize it’s Darien. He’s walking up the steps, and I can feel his dark presence looming over me the closer he gets. The doors to the other room in the hallway are opened as he searches for me, and I realize he’s saved the one I’m in for last.
The doorknob turns and I take a deep breath. I squeeze my eyes shut and prepare to fight for my life when I hear a voice coming from the doorway that chills me to the bone.
“Hello, Mother,” Darien says in an eerily calm voice as he slowly enters the room. He takes in the sight before him and his whistling stops. He then begins to laugh as he looks upon his mother’s corpse, and my body stiffens in fear.
“Did you have the chance to meet our guest, Mother? Her name is Alana. She’ll be your daughter-in-law soon,” he coos to the dead woman.
Why did I hide in this room? At least the room with the torture chair had weapons. I listen as he closes the distance from the doorway to the bed and hear the squeak from the old frame when he sits down above me.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” Darien whispers, “I never meant for it to end this way. I don’t understand why you had to snoop in my room. This all could have been avoided if you could’ve stopped fucking snooping.”
My heart races, and my thoughts become muddled. I take a deep breath and try to steel myself for what’s to come. I feel Darien’s weight shift on the bed above me, and that’s my only warning. Suddenly, he grabs my leg and pulls me from under the bed. I strike out against him and connect with a kick to his nose, and he groans loudly but doesn’t loosen his grab on my other leg.
“Stop fucking thrashing around!” he screams, his face now inches from mine. I don’t even know how to comprehend the evil and darkness in his eyes. They’re not human, they’re animalistic.
He momentarily releases my arms, and I tighten my grip on the letter opener and aim for his face. At the last second, he raises his arm up to block me, and the letter opener plunges deeply into his forearm.
“You little bitch, you’re going to regret that,” he growls as he pins me down against the floor.
Without thinking, I raise my foot up and kick him off me with all of my strength. The suddenness of the kick catches him off guard, leaving me momentarily free from his grasp. Adrenaline coursing through my veins, I jump off the ground and run out of the room without looking back. I make it to the creaking stairwell before I feel hands push me forward. I lose my balance, and my momentum sends me flying toward the wooden steps.
I gasp as a sharp pain radiates through my side as I collide with the floor. My lips part in an involuntary cry, and my teeth click together before a stinging sensation radiates across my mouth. The taste of copper fills my mouth, and I’m sure I’ve bitten a hole through my tongue. I get to my feet and prepare to run, but I hear the distinct sound of a shotgun being pumped.
“Alana, please don’t be stupid. It would be a shame for me to put all this work into taking care of you only for it to end with you dead on the floor,” Darien’s voice rings out from the top of the steps.
I take a deep breath and try to calm my racing heart. My head and side hurt from falling down the stairs, and my tongue feels swollen. I can’t fight a shotgun, so I’ll need to think of another way to get out of this. Doing my best to keep a stoic, indifferent expression on my face, I slowly raise my hands and roll over to face him.
He’s standing at the top of the stairs, his shoulders heaving as he points the barrel of the gun at my head. His bloodshot eyes are wide and wild, and his face is a deep purple. The look in his eyes lets me know he has no problem shooting me, not that I doubt it much after seeing what he did to his mother.
“Darien,” I say softly, “You don’t want me dead.”
He throws his head back and laughs loudly. “Of course not. I just said that. All you have to do is behave, and everything will be fine.”
“Is Andreas alive?” I ask, trying to keep the concern and sorrow from my face. I don’t want to say anything to piss him off. Not until he puts the gun away.
