The Nameless Survivor (Valkyrie) (19 page)

             
Two other men burst through the door and forcefully pried Logan away from Amy, the flesh from his shoulder tore free allowing more blood to gush out from the wound. Without hesitation one of them men plunged his knife into Logan's skull, his body fell lifeless to the floor. Then without remorse he savagely plunged the same knife into Amy's head. Rotten black blood oozed down her face as she fell still and silent. Only the gurgling of her lungs emptying could be heard.

             
Frozen in fear I remained silent upon the floor. Lilly now stood in the doorway, sobbing loudly at the sight of her daughter finally at peace. The man with the knife, Walter I believe, turned towards Lilly, pointing the blood-smeared knife straight into her face. He stared angrily into her eyes, without any care for her tragic loss. Even though he had never really bothered me, I hated him. More now than before.

             
“I said it was a mistake to keep her, didn't I?”

             
Lilly either didn't hear his question, or she simply ignored him. She dropped down to the floor beside her daughter and gently stroked her legs as she swayed lifeless from her binds. Walter huffed in anger as he wiped the blade clean on his pants before placing back in the sheath. Then he turned towards the others who stood in the doorway watching with curiosity.

             
“Dispose of the bodies.” he ordered then looked down at Lilly, “Stop your fucking crying, she was already dead, now get this little bitch back to her room!”

             
Promptly Lilly obeyed, snatching my arm and dragging me out of the shed and into the house. Lilly never said a word, and regrettably, neither did I. What could I have said, I could see it in her eyes that she blamed me for Amy's death. Instead she pushed me into my room and shut the door before stumbling off, wailing with such sadness. I just stood there, staring at the door, and listening to poor finally mourning the loss of her daughter.

continuance;

              The following few days went by fairly quietly, I minded my work and no one bothered with me. Lilly still hadn't said a word, she had become cold and uncaring, keeping to herself most days. This had left me open to the others, but thankfully even they did not bother with me. I am sure they were more concerned with BP’s reaction when he returned.

             
Tommy was the only one who spoke to me, sneaking off to find me whenever he had the chance. Whether it was when I was left alone to clean, or relieving myself in the outhouse, he would find me. Not for any real purpose except to talk, or maybe just to hear himself talk. He was a proud little boy and always had a story to tell. Hunting and fishing were his favorite topics, he mentioned that Big Paul had taught him all the good tricks for fly fishing. He spoke of BP quite often, sometimes good, but mostly bad. Yet to Tommy, BP was not loved and nor was he hated. He was just Big Paul, a protector and a bully.

             
He seemed to be quite content with what the world had become, almost happy with it. It was however all he has known, he couldn't really remember his parents, and wasn't even sure if they were still alive. BP found Tommy roaming about an abandoned house and had raised him ever since. And yet, Tommy was nothing like Paul, he had grown into a kind and gentle boy.

             
After Amy's death I focused on figuring out how to run away, especially knowing that BP could return any day now. Yet, there was no way I could do it without help. Lilly wouldn't even talk to me, even if she did, I doubt that she would have helped me. None of the others could be trusted, all fearfully loyal to Big Paul. Except Tommy, he was the only one I could trust, and although he was loyal to BP, he had become fonder of me. So one day, after he had startled me once again in the outhouse, I asked him about it.

             
“I'm going to run away.” I said, and he didn't answer right off. He took a moment, then in a low and concerned voice he responded.

             
“Big Paul would find you, he would kill you.”

             
“I won't let him, we just need a plan” I reassured him.

             
“It's safer here, Mia. You don't know Paul!” he squawked. “BP is an expert tracker, he will find us, and he will punish us.”

             
“Us?” I asked.

             
“You can't survive on your own!” He answered and I had to chuckle.

             
“So you will help me?”

             
“I don't know Mia, I still think it's safer here.”

             
“No Tommy, it's not, at least not for me.” I paused for a moment, reaching out and grabbing his arm. His face instantly blushing. “We will go deep in the forest, far – far away from here.” He looked up at me with his big brown eyes, not sure of what to say at first, then.

             
“We will need to move fast, and pack some supplies. We will need to find shelter very quickly. Snow-Fall is not far off.”

             
“We should leave before Paul returns.” I said.

             
He paused for a moment then smiled, “I can catch fish and hunt for food, and you can cook for me!” His excitement grew almost instantly. “I can protect you out there too. Maybe even be your husband one day!”

             
“You would make a good one.” I said with a smile.

             
“I'll start gathering supplies and hiding them.” Just as swiftly as he came, he trotted off.

             
I smiled to myself with content that we might actually escape this place. It was a long shot for sure, and even though I reassured him, I knew the risk of what we were about to do. Hopefully we would be ready before Big Paul returned, I thought as I wiped myself and exited the outhouse. I returned to my chores, ideas and plans running through my head. Thinking of a life where I was treated like a lady, rather than a piece of meat.

             
However, the next day, Big Paul and his group returned, and my excitement instantly faded away. The memory of our last encounter was almost forgotten, but the sight of him again sent a wave of stinging pain down my raw back. Escaping would be even harder with Paul around, and trying to plan everything with Tommy would be almost impossible now. But, I wasn’t about to give up, I wasn’t about to cower and obey.

             
Everyone gathered round to see what provisions BP had scrounged up, all of them crying out for food. Stacked in the back were old dusty boxes of canned goods, a couple of wooden crates that held live chickens, bundles of clothing and other odds and ends. Everyone began unpacking the bounty, pushing and shoving just to get to the good stuff. BP never said a word to them and simply walked over and grabbed me by the arm as I waited quietly for some food. But he had other plans as he pulled me with him into the house and led me up the stairs and into his bedroom, shoving me hard down onto the bed before slamming the door behind us.

             
I don't know why I did it, I knew what would happen, but still I darted towards the door only to meet the back of his hand. I slammed hard onto the floor with a loud thump, my breath instantly knocked out of me. As I gasped for air he picked me back up, tore off my ratted clothes and tossed me back onto the bed.

             
There was no strength left in me to fight back the tears so I just buried my face into the smelly old mattress to hide them. BP sat down on the bed next to me and grabbed my arm, pulling me over onto his lap, stomach down. I closed my eyes, tighter than I ever have before, and prayed for this to all go away. Gently he rubbed his hand up and down my butt, the tips of his fingers gently caressing the crease between my cheeks. His breathed heavily through his nose as his other hand stroked the lashes down my back, the raw wounds began to sting and burn from his touch. Yet, I clenched my teeth, and waited for his gentle caress to fade into sinfulness.

             
SLAP, his other hand struck so hard against my butt it sent a stinging sensation up my spine. I cried out as the next one came even harder, the sound of his hand against my flesh was so loud it must have echoed throughout the house. I cried out again, and he did not hesitate to strike again, and again. Not once did he speak, not to even tell me to stop my crying. Only his heavy breathing, and muffled moans intertwined with crack of each strike. He was not punishing me, his abuse was but only for his own pleasure.

             
Even with all my crying and screaming, no one came to help. Not even Tommy, but what could he do, he was just a little boy. After what seemed like hours of punishment; the spankings, pinching, and biting - BP pulled me up hard by my hair. I could see it in his eyes that he was enjoying my pain, my tears did not anger him like they had before. Instead he wanted to see me cry, he enjoyed my suffering. The harder I cried, the heavier he breathed.  He stared into my eyes for only a moment before he forced my head down between his legs and shoved himself into my mouth. He – he pushed down hard on the back of my head, forcing himself deeper into my throat. I couldn't breathe, and my gagging and choking only made him more excited. Even when I struggled to get away, he became more aggressive in his assault.

             
I wasn’t strong enough to pull away, and although I wished for it to end, I could not endure choking to death. So I gave into to him, I stopped fighting and ran my hands between his legs gently until he released his grip on my hair and let me take control. The taste was horrible, like spoiled cheese and sweat with the aroma of a stale out-house. It took everything in me to not throw up.

             
Paul eventually laid back onto the bed and placed his hands behind his head. However within moments it was over and I found myself once again choking. With disgust I gagged and spit the salty-slime from my mouth. BP just laughed, and without warning he slapped me hard across the face. The strike felt like a thousand bee-stings piercing my skin, and I wanted to cry but was again all out of tears.

             
Next he tossed me back onto the bed, face down again. My rear throbbed with unbearable pain, even rubbing my cheeks did nothing to ease it. I could feel that they were severely swollen. I tried to beg, plead, say anything, but only a rasping squeal escaped my lips as he climbed on top of me. I could hear my neck cracking within my ears as he pulled my head back by my hair and whispered in my ear.

             
“By morning you'll be walking bull-legged.” With a quick spat, a glob of dribble rolled down my cheek as his pushed himself deep into my rear. The pain he caused before was nothing compared to this, and I just took it, all the while praying for it to end. Praying to just die. I tried to do as Lilly suggested, let my mind drift away to someplace better. And Thankfully I don't remember any more of that night, I had lost time well before he was finished with me.

             
I awoke early the next morning lying next to BP with his arm draped over me, snoring away like a big mean bear. Excruciating pain pulsed from inside and out, only to be topped with the smell of his weeks old sweat smeared all over my body. It was all too much for me, like a punch to the stomach, and I couldn't hold it back. Yesterday's lunch exploded from my mouth like a volcano.

             
Big Paul was not pleased.

continuance;

              The following week I suffered Paul's wrath daily. I was kept prisoner in his room and fed little, beaten and raped regularly without remorse. Neither Lilly nor Tommy came to check on me, it was just Paul and I. Although I frequently prayed for death, there was still something inside that drove me to stick it out through all the pain and abuse, something drove me to live. The thought of escape was still on my mind, and knowing Tommy, it was still on his as well.

             
Every so often, when BP left the room, I would notice a faint shadow moving along the floor, spilling in from the gap at the bottom of the door. I knew it was Tommy, sitting with his tiny ear pressed against wood. He must have heard my cries when BP was having his way with me, which I am sure had broken his sweet little heart. And then, just before BP returned, that faint little shadow would scurry away.

             
It wasn’t long before BP let me out and put me back to work. The days were much colder now with frost lingering on the grass for half the day. You could almost smell the coming snow in the air, and I dreaded that Tommy and I would not be able to get away in time. Spending many winters hiding out in abandoned buildings was almost unbearable. But a full winter out in the woods, I fear we would not survive.

             
One morning, while I was stacking wood out in back of the house, Tommy peered out from behind the wood pile like a stealthy little fox. I looked about frantically to be sure no one else was around, especially BP. Paul tended to get jealous easily, even with innocent little Tommy.

             
“Don't worry, everyone is out front and BP has gone hunting.” He whispered with reassurance.