Dark Creations: Dark Ending (Part 6) (8 page)

He kept repeating that phrase in his head over and over as the Bronco bumped along residential roads toward the border of Eldon and Taft.  In the northernmost
section of town, a house had been decided upon as a meeting point, the one he believed would be the first hit.  Joe, Daniella and the mayor would be there, and once they were all together, they would wait for Terzini’s members.  They would wait for the first wave of attacks and show the sheriff and the mayor, once and for all, that he was not crazy.  They would take the first step toward saving the town of Eldon, the world. 

Chapter 6

Melissa felt her legs bend and twist abnormally as
she was dragged by both arms to a tiled room with a drain at the center of the floor.  The room was brightly lit and smelled of bleach, but rust colored matter had been embedded in the grout.  She did not want to know what had caused the stains, didn’t have time to wonder.  Two more men, members, entered the room.  Four had accosted her after Terzini had killed the Hunter who’d grabbed her.  Two had dragged her while the other two had secured the way.  Now there were six.  Six heavily armed drones had her in a shower room and she had no idea why.  Her heart sprinted and bitterness burned up the back of her throat.  She did not have a clue what horrors they had in store for her and was loath to find out. 

“Wh-what’re you going to do to me?” she asked
, though she did not know why she’d bothered.  It wasn’t as if they would feel compassion for her and tell her their plans.  They were incapable of feeling any emotion whatsoever.  They’d been genetically gifted with strength, speed and intelligence they were only permitted to use when ordered to do so, but they were utterly devoid of feelings.  And they weren’t about to forfeit their allegiance to their deranged maker.  They were incapable of that as well.  Still, she begged reflexively.  “Please,” she searched their faces for the slightest flicker, the faintest reaction.  When she found none, the gravity of her circumstances hit her. 

“Lay her down,”
a tall, blonde member spoke from the doorway.  “Lay her flat on her back.”

“What?  No!” she screamed
and horrific scenarios began swimming laps in her brain. 

“Take her shoes and socks off, then her pants and under
garments,” the man in the doorway ordered and four of the six members descended on her, tugging at her clothes.

“Get your hands off me!” she shrieked, her voice shrill and
unfamiliar to her ears.  She writhed and kicked as hard as she could, but felt her ankles seized in vice-like grips. 

“Don’t bother,” the blond man said flatly.  “You’ll only hurt yourself
.”

“Fuck you!” she spat and the blond man did not flinch.  His pale face remained
unchanged as if he were a marble statue.  She wanted nothing more than to see his stoic face split in two and hoped she lived to see it happen.

Her violent, vengeful imaginings were interrupted when she felt fingers manipulating the button of her jeans.

“No! Get off me!” she yelled again and tried desperately to twist free.  The hands that held her did not yield, but every muscle in her abdomen cried out at once.  Melissa winced.

“See, you’re only hurting yourself,” the blond said matter-of-factly
, his face smooth and impassive.

She would have looked at him, would have cursed him
again, were it not for the fact that her pants were now down around her ankles and in the process of being pulled off.  She felt a tug at the hem of her shirt as well as at the waistband of her underwear.

“Stop it!  Please no!  Please don’t do this!” she shouted and felt tears
well then cascade down her cheeks despite her every effort to keep them at bay.  She’d never heard of Terzini creating members who were rapists, but conceded that she did not know much about Lord Franklin Tezini.  Perhaps he’d charged the one stripping her with violating her to break her spirit, of torturing her sexually before showing her ruined body to Gabriel.  Maybe Gabriel would be forced to watch. 

Too ma
ny terrible prospects existed and she felt her mind fracture, felt the thin threads that kept the rational part of her brain anchored to sanity begin to fail.  “No!” she screamed and managed to free one hand.  She clawed at the man closest to her.  Her nails raked against the soft skin around his eye and a thin streak of red appeared.  Blood trickled from it, yet the man did not react.  He did not cry out or wince and his hands did not slow.  Her hand was promptly restrained and she continued to be manhandled.

When her bra and underwear had been stripped from her body, the members, shockingly, backed away from her.  Melissa was left naked sitting on the cold, tiled floor.  None of the men eyed her lewdly and none showed any signs of undressing themselves.  The franti
c pounding of her heart gave way to agonizing smarting at her temples and her entire body trembled forcefully.  When half of the men turned and stepped out of the room, leaving only three with their guns trained on her, she wasn’t sure what to feel.  Relief was not even a remote possibility as she was still naked and being held hostage in Terzini’s lair.  She closed her eyes for the briefest of seconds and thought of Gabriel, of her father, of all the people she loved, and tried to summon strength she simply did not feel. 

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of boots shuffling across the hard floor and were met with a strong and steady stream of ice-cold water
directed at her body.  She inhaled sharply, the icy water stinging and stabbing at her skin like thousands of needles.

“On your feet,” the blond man in the doorway commanded her.  She had barely heard him over the blast of water rushing at her
, but attempted to oblige by moving.  She slid her feet under her then stood slowly, all the while trying to preserve a shred of dignity, though dignity flew out the window the moment they’d torn her clothes from her body against her will.  Still, she hunched her shoulders and used one arm to block her breasts while the other covered blow her navel.  Every muscle protested and throbbed and she shivered from the piercing water.

“Okay!” the blond man raised his voice over the roar of water, and suddenly, the
flow stopped.  “Put your arms out to your sides,” he said in a tone that screamed,
If you don’t do it, we will make you do it. 
She did not know what he wanted from her; just that she did not want to be groped and fumbled with again, did not think she could withstand it
. 
Reluctantly and with trembling arms, Melissa lessened the grip she had on her midsection.  Sobs racked her body and tears streaked down her cheeks.  The sound of booted feet entering the room sent a fresh wave of terror-induced tremors through her core.  Two members approached her.  One held a bucket while the other clutched a long-handled brush.  The brush resembled one she’d seen her father use to clean his tires and hubcaps with when she was younger.  The bucket, the brush, none of it made sense.  Would they be needed to clean her blood once they finished with her? She wondered and felt the last meal she’d eaten rocket up her esophagus and spew from her mouth. 

She lowered her arms and clutched her
abdomen, heaving and gasping until her stomach had emptied, only to feel the freezing spray return and aimed at her face.

“Up, Melissa!” the blond man called and her arms were jerked and pulled until she stood upright.  “Arms at your side,” he told her.

She raised her trembling arms and tried to hold them at her side as her stomach pitched and roiled angrily.  Soft bristles touched her skin and began rubbing in a circular motion that produced bubbles.  She jumped, startled, and yelped involuntarily.

Crying out
in a roomful of people and seeing not one among them react in the slightest way was maddening.  Had anyone been close enough to her, she would have lashed out with her fists, bit, clawed and kicked them, forced them to acknowledge her.  But no one was within arm’s reach.  They were all at a distance, bystanders in the middle of the most humiliating moment of her life.  She was being scrubbed with a grooming brush and a bucket of cold, soapy water then rinsed with a hose like an animal. 

The blistering cold and sting
of brush bristles against her raw skin continued for what felt like forever.  When finally it stopped, Melissa was on the verge of passing out. The pain and embarrassment had overcome her. 

“Good,” the blond ma
n observed and examined her body blankly.  “That should do.  Take her out of here and dress her.”

The men descended on her, swarming like ants, and scooped her up.  She was vaguely aware of her legs dragging beneath her over the tiled floor then over a softer, carpeted surface.  When finally the dragging ended, she was in a bedroom with an oversized wardrobe and a large, li
ghted vanity mirror.  Her entire body shook.  She closed her eyes briefly, reluctant to fight the tide of darkness that teased at her vision temptingly, luring her with an end to it all.  She’d just begun to succumb to it when a deep voice called, “She’s passing out.”  A hand tapped her cheek several times and she roused.  “Perhaps she needs water.  I’ve read that her kind needs water in these situations,” the same voice said and sounded as if he were echoing from the end of a long tunnel.  Plastic was pressed to her lips and a cool stream of water began dribbling down her chin.  She lapped at it eagerly, feeling more and more like an animal with every second that passed.

She was about to close her eyes and surrender to the velvety oblivion that beckoned when an image of Gabriel floated through her mind.  For a moment, she saw him, saw his face as clearly as if he were standing before him, and felt her resolve strengthen.

“Gabriel,” she heard herself murmur. 

Whether or not anyone heard her was a mystery, as no one reacted in the least.  No one asked her what she’d said and no one leaned in to listen closer.
  But she did not need them to.  All she needed was Gabriel.  She needed to live to see Gabriel.  She willed her eyes to stay open, forced the encroaching shock to stay at bay and became increasingly aware of the fact that lotion was being applied to her skin.

“What the
hell?” she heard herself say, her voice a strangled whisper.  “What are you doing to me?” she asked and felt her temper flare as it never had.  Four men were in the room teeming about, prepping her as if she was being readied for a photo shoot, yet they actively ignored her. 

While the copious amount of lotion applied to her body dried, p
roduct was sprayed in her hair then it was combed and blown dry.  Makeup was applied as well as polish for her nails and toenails.  The absurdity of the situation was dizzying.  The height of it came when a satin dress that resembled a bride’s maid dress was placed carefully over her head and slid down her body. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” she fumed and swatted at the member smoothing the silky fabric.  “What the hell is going on here?  Someone please tell me!” she shouted.  As expected, not one among them replied or responded, not verbally or physically.  She was about to launch into a full-blown tirade when a knock at the door made her insides freeze. 

“Is she ready?” the blond man had returned.  She could hear the infuriatingly calm cadence of his voice. 

“Almost, we just need to put her shoes on,” the man who’d answered replied. 

“Good, bring her in as soon as you’re done,” the blond man said then closed the door.

High heel shoes were shoved onto her feet and the men in the room s
tepped back and scrutinized her. 

“Her appearance is acceptable now,” one said then gripped her arm tightly so that his fingers bit into the tender skin of her upper arm.  “Lord Terzini has requested your presence in his private quarters,” he said
emotionlessly.

Private quarters, as in bedroom
, Melissa wondered as her four robotic guards escorted her down a carpeted hallway, past a large living room and dining-room area to another hallway at the end of which a closed door waited.  They knocked and Terzini shouted for them to enter.  The man who’d led the group opened the door and, after she was shoved forward over the threshold, filed in before the rest of them did.

The temperature of the room was a good twenty degrees warmer than the rest of the house, though Melissa’s shivering did not subside in the least.  To the contrary, when she entered and saw that Terzini sat
on an oversized, cigar-hued couch so large it engulfed him and wore a dress shirt with several of the top buttons unfastened revealing a smattering of dark chest hair, her body trembled more fiercely. 

“Lord Terzini,” one of the members nodded deferentially.  “Is her appearance acceptable now?”

Terzini’s eyes roamed her body, lingering on her chest.  “Oh yes,” he crooned.  “This is much better.  I can actually stomach the sight of her now.”

“Screw you!” Melissa
blurted without thinking, frustration and terror getting the better of her judgment.  The guards holding her tightened their grips on her arms. 

“It’s all right, it’s all right,” Terzini smiled slyly.  “Don’t wrinkle her dress.  Let go of her arms,” his eyes traveled the length of her body again.  “She’s feisty.  I can see why Gabriel likes her,” he said and ran his tongue over his lips.  When he did, he looked reptilian, like a lizard in dress clothes perched on a giant sofa.  Melissa’s stomach churned.