Switched (20 page)

Right onto Doyle’s prone body.

I gasped and clapped my hand over my mouth, suppressing a scream. Doyle was lying on the floor wrapped in duct tape. His hands, his feet, and his mouth were covered in the stuff. I studied him for a moment, and was relieved to see the steady rise and fall of his chest. Miraculously, Doyle was still alive.

I dropped to my knees and shook him. “Doyle! Doyle!” I hissed. “Open your goddamn eyes. I need your muscles. I need you to save me. Wake up.”

I shook him repeatedly. I knew my time was running out, and Nataniel was going to open the door any second. For sure he wasn’t going to give me a lot of time to change. I pulled at Doyle’s bindings. I tried to get the tape off his mouth, but it was wrapped all the way around his head, and it was damned sticky tape. I needed scissors or a knife. Oh, if only I had scissors or a knife.

I couldn’t get the tape off, but trying to get it off roused Doyle. His eyes opened, and after a moment of orienting himself, he stared right at me.

“Maisey’s downstairs chained to a wall,” I whispered. “She’s okay for now, but I think she’s next. He wants me to put on the wedding dress.” My voice cracked with emotion. “But I’m going stab him in the eye with this hanger. I’m going be just fine, and after I’m done, I’m going to come back and save you.”

Doyle struggled against the duct tape and tried to get up. His eyes went from me to the corner of the closet and back again. I looked over, and there slumped on the floor was a dead girl with an earring in her nose.

“Is that Felicity?”

Doyle nodded his head, vigorously.

My throat constricted, and my eyes stung. I was riddled with grief at the sight of her lifeless form. “I didn’t save her. I was too late. I thought I could save her.”

Doyle struggled against his bonds, sticking his arms up to me. “I already tried,” I said. “I need scissors or a knife. I can’t get it off.”

Doyle flailed about on the floor like a fish out of water. I jumped when there was a knock at the door. “Are you almost done?” Nataniel asked. “Do you need help with the buttons?”

I put both hands down on Doyle’s chest and pushed hard. I didn’t want him to get Nataniel’s attention. He was alive for the moment, and I wanted him to stay that way.

“No, I’m fine, Nataniel,” I called out to him on the other side of the door. “I’m just trying to make sure that I put it on right. I want to look perfect for you.”

“Be quick about it! Do not get me angry!”

I put my finger up to my mouth and shushed Doyle. He stopped struggling, but he eyed me like he was going to kill me if I survived Nataniel.

I put the dress on in a hurry. It turned out that I did need Nataniel’s help with the buttons, but I left most of them undone. I slid the opened wire hanger under my dress where I could easily get at it, but where Nataniel wouldn’t see it.

I opened the closet door with a big smile on my face and stepped out, closing the door behind me quickly so he wouldn’t see Doyle. I didn’t know if he had forgotten that he had put Doyle and Felicity in the closet in one of his psycho moments, but I didn’t want to do anything to remind him of their presence.

I smiled big and spun around like a princess. “Thank you so much for this beautiful dress. I love it. I feel like the luckiest woman in the world. I can’t wait to be your wife.”

“They all say that,” Nataniel murmured, looking far off into the distance. It was almost as if he forgot that I was there and he was remembering something else. I could only imagine that he had a lot of memories to choose from. I shuddered and tapped my thigh where hanger was hiding to make sure it was still there.

Nataniel clutched my arm tightly and tugged me out of the room. He was deeply in his own head, now, like he didn’t recognize me. I guessed he was just going through the motions, finishing off one more woman for his resume.

I stumbled behind him, as he walked quickly out the room and through the living room. He opened a small door in the hallway and pushed me inside.

It was a small room, and it was decorated for one purpose. A short, red carpet led the way to a raised altar, which was covered with a trellised archway. There were flowers everywhere and candles lit on every surface. It was a beautiful place for a beautiful wedding. All that was missing was a preacher, and I half expected one to come out of nowhere. But there was nothing holy about this union. We were on our own. No witnesses.

“You are not getting out of this, Laura,” Nataniel warned. “Nothing you can do will stop me.”

“Why would I want to stop you, Nataniel? I love you. I want to marry you.” I was trying to lull him into a false sense of security, trying to pass the time before I jabbed him in the eye with my hanger and got out of there.

Nataniel wasn’t convinced. “Do not give me those lies. I see you are scared. I see the pulse in your neck. You are just as scared as all the rest. You are just like all of them. No different.”

I was about to tell him he was wrong. I was about to tell him how much I loved him and wanted to marry him again, but before I could say a word he pushed me down onto the ground and kicked me in the stomach.

I clutched my belly in agony. I couldn’t breathe. It was impossible to get air. Finally, I was able to choke in air, which was quickly followed by moaning and crying. A world of emotion flew out of me through my tears.

“See? You are all the same. Weak. Worthless. You do not even deserve me.”

It was a hell of a lot worse than “I made a terrible mistake”, but it didn’t hurt as much coming from this groom as it did from Jackson.

Nataniel was right, though. I didn’t deserve him. I didn’t deserve to be murdered, to be hurt, or to be rejected. And I was sick and tired of the whole process. I was about to tell him so, when he turned around and picked up a long hunting knife off a nearby table.

I screamed. My crying stopped immediately. Blood pounded in my ears. I lifted up my dress and fumbled to get to the hanger. I finally got it free, ripping the dress completely down.

“Don’t fuck with me, psycho whack job!”

Nataniel looked from his knife to my hanger and back again. Then, he smiled. All teeth, like a jackal.

Without warning, he ran at me. Charged me. I jumped up and just before he got me with his knife, I ripped the wig off my head and threw it at him, hitting him in the face. He stumbled back in surprise, and then it was my turn to charge him with my wire hanger.

I kneed him in the groin, and punched him as hard as I could in the nose. He still held onto the knife, but he went down like a sack a potatoes.

I was poised over him, wielding the wire hanger, but no matter how much I hated him, no matter how much I was scared of him, I couldn’t stab him in the eye like I had planned. I guess I just wasn’t the killing type. But I kicked him again, and I succeeded in dislodging the knife from his hand.

I grabbed the knife and kicked him again, this time in the head. He moaned, and I took that moment to find the keys in his pocket. I ran out of the room and closed the door behind me, latching the door from the outside.

I ran through the house looking for a phone, but I couldn’t find one. I wanted to save Doyle, but my thoughts turned to pour Maisey downstairs in the dungeon. I clutched the keys in one hand and the knife in my other. I ran down the stairs and unlocked the door to the dungeon..

“Maisey! Maisey! It’s me. I’m coming to save you,” I called.

I was filled with adrenaline. The happy kind. I was euphoric. It was good to live a happy ending, against all odds.

I reached her and jabbed the key into the lock. It didn’t fit. I tried a couple others on the key ring, and opened the lock on the fourth try. I let her loose. She rubbed her wrists and then hugged me.

“Thank you, Debra,” she cried. “I was so worried about you. I thought that…Well, you know.”

“Maisey, Felicity’s dead. She’s upstairs in the closet.”

We hugged each other and cried. We cried because we had been saved, but we also cried for the horrors that had happened before. Poor Felicity. Poor Maria. And the poor countless others that had been victims to Nataniel’s sadism.

I wiped my eyes, remembering something good. “But Doyle’s fine. He’s upstairs in the closet, and his hands are bound, but he’s okay, Maisey. Doyle’s fine.”

It was wonderful news. And so welcome.

“Let’s get him. And then let’s get the hell out of here and never come back. I’m not dating anyone for at least four years.”

“I’m right with you,” I said, but actually—strangely—I was feeling much better about men. Sure I’d had crappy experiences with men lately. But there was one man that I had met who was decent and good. And he was looking even better, now that I was on the other side of my three-part nightmare: Jackson, Bruno, and Nataniel.

Maisey and I walked over the rough floor toward the doorway, and that’s when we heard it. At first I thought it was my imagination. But there was no imagining that voice.

“Oh my God, he’s back,” Maisey whispered.

Nataniel was so upset that he was speaking only in Spanish. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but I got the gist. Maisey clutched on to me, her body shaking. I took her hand and guided her in the opposite direction.

We stumbled across the rock floor away from the doorway. The dungeon went on forever. It was pitch black, but our eyes had grown accustomed to it.

As we walked, we could hear Nataniel’s footsteps as he followed us. He continued to rant in Spanish, his voice rising and bouncing off the walls in a loud echo.

I tried to ignore him, tried to think up something clever to do against him. I still had the knife, and I would use it if I had to, but Nataniel was good at fighting, and I wondered if he had an even bigger knife or something worse this time.

His footsteps sped up and we sped up in return. As he got closer, Maisey pulled me up against the wall next to her. I stood flat against the wall and held my breath. Nataniel kept ranting, and I tried to be as invisible as possible and not make any noise.

Minutes passed as he searched for us. I almost thought he was going to give up when he stopped. He stood stock still, probably listening for any little movement from us. I wasn’t going to let him find us. I was determined. But then the unthinkable happened.

It was a gross, vermin unthinkable thing.

A mouse ran over my feet. Surprisingly, I managed to stay quiet and not scream. I didn’t even squeak. I was silently applauding my bravery when another mouse ran over my foot. This one decided to take a trip under the shredded dress and up my leg.

I screamed like a girl in a horror movie, which if you think about it, was pretty appropriate. I screamed and screamed and jumped all around, ripping the remains of the dress off my body, hopping up and down like a stripper on Ritalin.

After that, it all happened pretty fast. Maisey started screaming. Nataniel started screaming. And everybody went after everybody. It was the biggest serial killer dungeon clusterfuck of all times.

In my jumping all around, the knife flew out of my hand, and I heard it clank as it hit the wall. Luckily, Nataniel had come down to the dungeon without a weapon. He probably thought he didn’t need one.

Boy, was he wrong.

Maisey was spitting mad. Faced with her chance to get revenge against her attacker and Felicity’s murderer, she ran after him like a mad woman.

I stopped jumping around long enough to see her hop on his back and start tearing out his hair. It must have hurt like a bitch because she tore his hair out by the roots. He screamed. She screamed. And finally I stopped screaming.

I really thought we were going to get him this time. I mean, it didn’t look like Maisey was going to give up until Nataniel was on the ground, bald, and dead.

Then I heard heavy footsteps on the dungeon floor coming at us at a fast clip. For a terrifying moment, I figured that Nataniel had a partner in crime.

We were doomed, I figured. I dropped onto my hands and knees and quickly searched for the knife.

Whoever was coming toward us began to roar. The sound was deafening, especially with the echo in the dungeon. I was terrified to my core.

But then the roar sort of sounded familiar.

“Doyle?” I called.

“Debra! Are you okay?”

Yep, it was Doyle. Somehow he had gotten out of his duct tape and out of the closet, and he was determined to save the day. He ran straight for us and bumped right into Nataniel and Maisey.

“Let me kill him! Let me kill him! I’m almost there,” Maisey yelled.

There was a huge scuffle. I couldn’t make out much, but I thought I saw Doyle trying to dislodge Maisey from Nataniel.

“Let me save you!” Doyle yelled

“I was doing just fine. I don’t need you,” Maisey shot back.

***

Nataniel wasn’t totally bald, but he had big, bloody patches on his head where there was no hair. Maisey had done a pretty good job. He also had two black eyes and a bloody nose from my right hook. Of course it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t justice for the lives of the women he stole.

Doyle had dragged him upstairs and hogtied him with an electrical wire. He called the cops and we waited until they arrived. Maisey drank about a gallon of water out of the kitchen tap, and Doyle took his time peeling off the remnants of the duct tape from his body.

After he was done, he pulled me aside and hugged me hard. He looked deep into my eyes, searching for something there. I didn’t know if he found it or not, but he was serious. More serious than I had ever seen him.

“I’m not going to ask if you’re okay,” he said. “But I need to tell you that when I was in the closet and I knew you were with him, I almost went crazy. I could say a lot of clichés about not wanting to lose you. But I don’t like clichés.”

“I like clichés,” I said. There was one specific cliché I would’ve loved to have heard from him, but he was slow to go that route.

“When my wife died, I died too. It was hard to find myself again, to get back to the living. But now I know that I’m ready to continue on. I’m ready for commitment.”