The Understorey

“Let me do this Julia or I’ll think of another use for my hand and believe me, you will not find it so pleasant. Here’s a little clue for you, it involves my butterfly knife, and your skin.”



I stilled.



“That’s what I thought,” he said, running his fingers through my hair again and again, tainting me with his vileness. He turned me around, his jaw tight, and ran his right hand up my arm until his fingers found my face. He pinched my jaw between his thumb and index finger.



Leaning into my ear he said, “I’ve wanted you for a very, very long time Julia.” He bit my ear and I shrieked at the unexpected pain. “Here, let me take care of this uncomfortable tape for you.”



Before I could brace myself, he unraveled the tape harshly from my face and it pulled my hair and skin so roughly I could feel blood trickling down my face and neck. I refused to cry.



“No tears?” He asked, bewildered. “But there’s blood Julia. I’m sure that had to hurt.” He turned my face from side to side, inspecting his handiwork. “Hmm. Oh, I see.” He chuckled. “You’re trying to be brave. Foolish girl. Now I know your threshold and I’ll be sure to inflict enough to bring the reaction I want. You would have been smarter to feign your tolerance for pain.”



I watched as he flipped the broad side of the blade of his knife to rest in his palm. He squeezed his hand together and I saw blood begin to trickle down his forearm and onto the floor. When he had a decent amount of blood in his hand, he raised the palm of his hand and ran slippery digits down my throat and the back of my neck. It was warm and the tangy bitterness made my head spin.



“There, now we are as one Julia.”



He leaned in closer to me and ran the tip of his tongue across the surface where our blood mixed together.



“We taste incredible,” he winked. “Salty.”



My eyes watered but I refused to let one slip as he watched in hopeful anticipation, his eyebrows furrowed and lips curled around an evil smile. When I didn’t give him what he wanted he just laughed and dragged me towards the fireplace.



“Sit,” he said, and guided me to the floor.



I sat with my back against the sofa. He threw wood into the hearth and started the gas before lighting the flame.



“Wouldn’t want you to get sick now would we pet? Especially since you’re in need of getting out of those cold, wet clothes.”



I was afraid to use my voice, but I had a few choice words standing by.



“Stand,” he said and positioned himself above me. I obeyed. “Turn around.” I did.



He untied my hands and repositioned me so I was facing him again. “Undress.”



“No,” I said, finding my voice.



“Let me set some ground rules for you puppet. When I say ‘jump’, you say ‘how high Jesse?’. Got it? If you refuse me anything, I will make it so difficult for you to breathe you’ll beg me for death. Understand?”



I nodded my response.



“Undress,” he repeated.



I removed all my clothing except for my underwear and bra and held the wet clothes against my body.



“Walk into the laundry room.” I did. “Put your clothes in the dryer and start it. I need to get out of here fast but I can’t have you dying of hypothermia before I get to do my thing.” I did as I was told and covered myself the best I could with my hands and arms. “Go stand by the fire.”



He followed me back to the living room and I stood with my back to the fire, facing him. He sat on the couch, playing with his knife, flipping it open and closed repeatedly, staring off into nothing.



He did this for what seemed like a very long time before his eyes met mine again, “Come here,” he smiled.



My hands shook as I approached him. Knowing he’d demand it, I made the decision to position my feet mere inches from his before folding my arms across my chest. He laughed.



“You’re learning pet. Would you like to hear my plans for you?”



I refused to acknowledge him.



“After your clothes are dry, I plan on taking you to my cave behind the falls. You’ll like it.” Flip, flip, flip. “Well hidden,” he winked. “That’s right, can’t hear a thing through the rushing water. Not a thing. Your bodies won’t be found for weeks, months, maybe even years.”



I swallowed. Bodies? Are there more like me?



“So,” he continued, “just as soon as they’re dry. We’ll head over there. I’ll make a comfy little fire and start experimenting on you before Elliott finds us.”



My eyes widened in fear.



“That’s right. He knows about it. It might take him a little while to find it because he’s never been there before, but I’m sure we can think of something to pass the time. Don’t you?”



He stood slowly and towered over me, his chest heaving with each breath. He continued the flip of his knife but lost control of it and it toppled to the ground but before he had an opportunity to reach for it, I grabbed it and backed across the room.



“Don’t come any closer!” I yelled, but it did no good.



He charged me at full speed and I did the only thing I could, I sliced at his arms so I could attempt at a stab. First the left and I made contact slicing close to bone, then the right but missed, then I tried the left once more and it cut but not as deeply as the first time.



He overpowered me and I kicked and punched, bit and pulled at his hair, but it was of no use. He slammed me into the ground, took the knife from me and pressed the sharp blade against my neck. It cut and the blood began to pool onto the floor beneath me.



“Please,” I begged.



“Please?”



He seemed amused.



“I’ll do anything, j..just don’t kill me.”



“Anything?”



“Anything.”



He sat up and straddled my legs, taking the knife, he licked the blood off the blade.



“Okay, I promise not to kill you on one condition.”



“Wh...what..d...d...do you want?”



“Hold still.”



He took the blade and brought it to my chest, right below my left collarbone. I flinched and tried to crawl away.



“Ah, ah, ahhh. We had a deal Julia. You let me do this and I won’t kill you. I p..p...promise,” he laughed. “Hold still,” he commanded and pinned my hands with his knees to the hard pine floor. “Now where was I?”



He placed the blade in the exact same spot and began to slice a two inch line. I yelled in pain but he just drew the blade over the wound over and over until it was deep enough for him. I gritted my teeth by the third turn and braced myself to pass out.



“I’ll give you a moment. You see, I have three more lines to do.”



I almost burst into tears but an image of Elliott laying unconscious on a hospital bed with his jaw wired shut came to mind and I steeled myself, for him.



When he finished all four lines, he picked his body weight up from my legs and brought me to my feet. I shuddered when forced to lean against him because my knees threatened to buckle beneath me.



Once I had steady enough footing he steered me into his parents’ room to the mirror in the bathroom. When I saw myself I almost fainted. I was drenched in blood, his and mine, mostly mine. I was afraid to look at what he had carved into my chest but he shouted for me to open my eyes and I met my body’s image. I focused on the damage he’d done. My eyes zeroed in on his artwork. Right underneath my left collarbone, carved in the flesh, was the letter ‘E’.



“You’ll take him to the grave with you Julia,” he said, bringing his hand to the ‘E’ from over my shoulder and pressing the raw wound, causing even more blood to stream down my skin and soak through my bra. I shouted at the agony of it but the tears never came.



I didn’t know if he meant Elliott’s initial or if he literally meant Elliott himself, but I didn’t want to find out, to be honest. I only wanted Elliott never to come anywhere near us. He was my everything and didn’t deserve to see me like this. I looked like death warmed over. My hair was plastered to my skin from all the blood and the E was bleeding profusely all over the floor and counter top.



“Enough,” he said before tearing me through the bedroom and into the laundry room. He made me grab my now dry clothes from the dryer and put them back on. My ‘E’ bled through my shirt, soaked into my clothing and dripped into my jeans.



He pushed me from the laundry room and tossed me onto the pine planks of the living room. He tied me once more but didn’t tape my mouth shut, for which I was grateful, but it didn’t last long because he went into the bedroom and I heard the tearing of some fabric. He came out with strips of what looked like a sheet and gagged me by tying it tight behind my ahead and across my mouth. I could barely breathe.



“I’ll be back Julia. Just need to take care of these knife wounds. Can’t very well flee West Virginia if I’m bleeding a trailed path that leads to my hiding place, can I? Leaves a nasty trail. I’ll have enough trouble as it is hiding yours.”



He turned for his parents’ bathroom, dripping life over every inch of the floor, painting glassy crimson proof of the promise of my own impending trail. I turned from my side to my back and quietly sobbed, praying that I could stop the salt water flow before he got out of his shower.



Please, I silently prayed, Please God, let my death be a peaceful one.



Chapter Ten



My Calling



“Let’s go,” Matt said.



I followed him to his car and placed my hand on my chest at the pain under my left collarbone before signaling to head towards my house and he revved his engine. I needed him to come with me to Blackwater Falls but his old Camaro couldn’t make the trek. He had no chains on his tires and we were going into some crazy weather and it wasn’t likely to make it up the obscure dirt road to Jesse’s parents’ cabin.



I needed to get to my truck, not just for the truck though, for several baseball bats setting underneath my seat as well.



The car ride to my house felt like an eternity. We were understandably quiet. The fact that I couldn’t speak more than one or two words together wasn’t helping much either. I could also tell Matt didn’t want to cause me any unnecessary pain or maybe he was taking my ‘no questions asked’ demand a bit too literally. It was probably the fact that he already knew where we were going and was debating on whether or not it was worth our friendship to take me back to the hospital and spare both our lives or even Jesse’s.



Jesse. Jesse, the most deranged person I’ve ever known of in my entire life and whom I had no idea had it in him to be so. Jesse, someone I don’t even think Marisa or even Taylor knew was capable of such monstrosity.



When Matt killed the engine, he sat in the driver’s seat while I removed my seat belt and began to exit the car. He didn’t so much as blink and I hesitated at the door’s handle, sat back again only to nod in realization that Matt had no intention of coming with me. I didn’t blame him. He did the most he was willing to do and I could tell he was struggling with the words to say. I grabbed his shoulder, squeezed, and smiled the best crooked smile I could through the pain to let him know it was okay and bolted into the winter’s night.