THE TORTURED (3 page)

Oddly, Meghan felt calm. Considering the situation, she consciously thought of her lack of fear, and began to wonder if it would last. She blinked her eyes and studied Ryan’s face.

Standing directly in front of him, she nodded her head.

“Splendid. Tomorrow this will all begin to make some sense to you. I allow everyone one question, Meghan. You ask, and I will answer truthfully. This is not an invitation for an open discussion, but an opportunity to ask one question and have it answered.  Think about what you’re asking, and make certain it is something you want to know the answer to,” he said in a soft monotone voice.

Meghan cleared her throat.

“What is the address of this location?” Meghan blinked her eyes as she spoke.

Ryan placed his index finger and thumb around his chin, cupping the palm of his hand around his jaw. He studied the face of Meghan and smiled.

“Aren’t you interesting? A thinker. I like that, Meghan,” Ryan reached for her wrist, grasping it in his right hand.

The pressure of his grasp made her uncomfortable at first.

“Follow me,” Ryan instructed her.

The voices grew louder as they walked to the corner of the large room. As he approached the door, he held his left hand to a box on the wall beside the door. As his hand touched the box, a loud clicking noise came from the center of the door jamb. As he pressed against the door with his elbow, she felt his breath on her ear.

“616 Esthner,” Ryan breathed into her ear as he gently pushed her through the doorway and into the room.

A loud metallic
clunk
from the door closing behind her reminded her of the permanency of her new dwelling.

As Meghan blinked her eyes, slowly they became focused on the contents of well lit room. In shock, she stood and stared at the three occupants of the room - each of which bore an almost identical resemblance of her.

CHAPTER FOUR

ONE OF YOU IS GOING TO DIE.

FOUR.
“What’s your name?” Dana asked as she stood up from the bench she was sitting on.

“Uhhm. I’m Meghan,” she responded as she looked around the room. As she noticed her hands begin to tremble, she clenched her fists in embarrassment. 

Meghan quickly scanned the room. The room was square with concrete walls. A light in the center of the room provided the only illumination. A quick viewing of the room revealed no windows. A steel bench was built into the wall around three sides of the perimeter of the room. A door on her right was open, revealing what was obviously the bathroom. On the same wall as the bathroom door, a stainless steel refrigerator sat beside a steel shelf that housed a microwave.

The three women were all dressed in grey sweats, flip-flop style sandals, and white tank tops. The identical attire made a mental separation of the women difficult. Additionally, the all but identical physical appearance, hair color, and body structure made it almost impossible.

“Meghan?” Dana asked, “I’m Dana. Where you from?”

“Shut up, Dana,” Elena said as she walked toward Meghan, “I’m in charge, remember?”

“I was just trying to be nice,” Dana said softly as she walked back to the bench and sat down.

A third woman stood from the bench, sat, and stood again as Elena began to speak to Meghan. The woman began to make Meghan nervous. Fixated on the third woman, Meghan tried to comprehend the situation and focus on what Elena was saying.

“Where are you from?” Elena stood directly in front of Meghan and spoke with a hint of a Spanish accent.

“Andover, I live in Andover,” Meghan answered as she watched the third woman stand, sit and stand again.

“Well, first things first. Introductions,” Elena said as she motioned to the woman now sitting on the bench.

“That’s Dana with the mouth,” she stated as she motioned toward Dana, who was now seated on the bench with her head in her hands.

“The other one is Shellie.
The crazy one.
I’m Elena,” Elena said as she looked up and down Meghan’s frame.

“See, he’s a fucking weirdo. I knew if he brought someone else, they’d look just like us. This is creepy as fuck,” Elena said as she pressed her hands against her hips and studied Meghan.

“How tall are you?” Elena asked.

“I am uhhm. I’m,” Meghan paused, shook her head, and attempted to process the question. The calmness of the women made her more uneasy than she felt she should have been.

“I’m five ten,” Meghan answered.

“Jesus, we’re all five ten. For once I wish I was five foot nothing. That fucking creep wouldn’t have nabbed us if we were short. He has a hang up for tall brunettes with big boobs. And don’t pay any attention to Shellie, she’s fucking
loco
,” Elena said as she turned toward the bathroom.

“I’ll be right back, I gotta pee. We were all glued to the door when we heard the garage door open,” Elena said over her shoulder as she stepped into the bathroom.

“Did he tell you not to break anything?” Shellie asked as she stood from the bench

Meghan nodded, “Yes, he did.”

“You dumb fuck. He told us all the same shit, Jesus,” Elena screamed from the bathroom.

“Well, I’m just making sure. I don’t want to die for some stupid reason,” Shellie said apologetically.

“We’re all going to die, you stupid bitch,” Elena said flatly as she flushed the toilet.

Elena pulled her sweats up, washed her hands, and walked from the bathroom into the large open room. Frustrated with the amount of time she had been locked in the room, she often contemplated trying to escape. Thoughts of potentially returning home to her seventeen year old daughter were all that prevented her from attacking Ryan on one of the many occasions when he brought food or fresh clothes into the room.

“Do you ever hear of some fucking wacko kidnapping a bunch of girls and eventually they’re set free? Or they escape? We’ve been through this - he’s
planning
to kill us all. We should just figure out a way to get that door off the microwave and bust that
pendejo
in the
cabesa
,” Elena said as she pointed to the microwave.

“English,” Dana said from the bench.

“
We need to hit that asshole in the head
. He’s going to kill us all. One at a fucking time. And we’re all going to be as dead as bunch of dumb woman can be. Or, we can come up with a plan and beat this asshole and make a run for it. I’d much rather die trying to get out of here than after this prick fucks me and cuts off my hands,” Elena said as she walked to the bench opposite Dana and sat down.

“What do you mean about him cutting off our hands? He’s going to cut off our hands?” Meghan asked quietly as she crossed her arms and pressed her hands into her armpits.

“I don’t know what this fucker’s gonna do. But that’s what they
always
do. They cut of your
manos
and pull your teeth so you can’t be identified. They always do that creepy shit,” Elena’s voice rose as she spoke.

“I think I am the last one,” Meghan paused and looked around the room.

“The last girl he was going to get,” Meghan whispered toward the three women.

“Why? Why you say that?” Elena asked as she scooted across the bench.

“He said tomorrow it will all start to make sense. Maybe he’s bringing more people tomorrow, I don’t know. I took it as tomorrow he was going to start something with us,” Meghan said as she tried to recall exactly what Ryan had said.

“Did he tell you his name?” Shellie asked as she stood from the bench.

“Yes, Ryan Capshaw,” Meghan admitted.

She said the name again - silently in her head. She liked the way it rolled off of her tongue when she said it out loud. Thinking of his hand on her neck, and how she felt when he whispered in her ear, she began to become uncomfortable with her feelings. Something about Ryan intrigued her. Truthfully, everything about Ryan intrigued her.

She guessed his age at late twenties, yet he drove a one hundred thousand dollar BMW sedan. He dressed well, and wore a Patek Philippe watch. Her father a jeweler, Meghan grew up with an understanding and a fondness for fine things, jewelry being no exception. She expected the watch Ryan wore cost $20,000 or more. She silently wondered what would cause a man of his stature and wealth to do such a thing to four women.

“He told us all the same shit, Shellie. Fucking stop with the stupid fucking questions,” Elena said toward Shellie.

“Did he let each of you ask a question?” Meghan asked openly to the room.

“Fuck yes he did,” Elena stated.

“Well?” Meghan asked.

“I asked if he was going to kill me,” Shellie said as she sat back on the bench.

“His answer?” Meghan paused, filled with wonder on what Shellie’s response would be.

For some reason, Meghan felt as if she could trust Ryan. The feeling of trust troubled her, as she believed that naturally she shouldn’t trust him. As Meghan recalled his eyes, his tone of voice, and his appearance, Shellie spoke.

“He said,
that’s my intent, yes
,” Shellie looked down at the floor after she spoke.

“Why
me
? That’s what I asked him,” Dana blurted.

Meghan turned to face Dana.

“He said,
you’re a piece of the puzzle
,” Dana continued.

Meghan thought of the question she had asked Ryan. If he was honest, it may come in useful at a later date. She hoped that it would come to that, and not the ending that all of the other women assumed to be imminent. Ryan was certainly making the rules. She began to wonder when he may touch her again, and when he did, what the circumstances would be surrounding the encounter. Her pleasure in Ryan’s presence began to make her feel guilty.

“Fucking
puto
. I asked him when he was going to let me go. Dick head said,
I have no intention of releasing you
,” Elena growled as she moved to lie on the bench across from where Meghan stood.

Shellie began pacing the room. As she walked, she stared at the floor. Without looking up, she spoke.

“What did
you
ask?” Shellie asked as she stared at her feet.

“I asked how many more people were here,” Meghan lied.

“What the fuck?” Elena barked as she sat up partially on the bench, “Why
that
?”

“I have no idea, it just came out. How long has each of you been here?” Meghan asked.

“Two weeks, I think. I lost track. Maybe fifteen or sixteen days,” Shellie responded, still pacing back and forth across the room.

“Eight days,” Dana responded as she raised her hand.

“I was first. I don’t know how long I been here. Maybe three weeks - long enough that I know I am sick of it. I am ready to do
something
,” Elena responded as she flattened herself out on the bench and stared at the ceiling.

As Meghan turned and looked at each woman in the room, the resemblances between them struck her as odd. She contemplated the reasoning behind Ryan’s choice of women, and what other similarities might not be as noticeable. As Meghan studied the women individually, Shellie continued to pace the room and stare at her feet.

“Is anyone married?” Meghan asked.

“No.”

Nope.”

Uhh. No.”

“Well, neither am I,” Meghan responded.

“Kids?” Meghan asked as she nodded toward each woman.

“Yes, I have a daughter. She’s seventeen, why?” Elena responded.

“I don’t, no,” Shellie responded as she paced the floor.

“I don’t have any children,” Dana stated.

“Why you ask?” Elena asked.

Feeling as if she were assembling a puzzle, Meghan began to feel relieved. Almost instantly, the relief turned into grief. The thought of Amanda getting out of school started to worry her as she stood in the corner of the room. She realized, for all practical purposes, she hadn’t moved since Ryan pushed her into the room.

She considered that she had no formal plan regarding her death concerning what Amanda’s future would be beyond her death. Mark, by all means was excluded from her life, and never attempted to see Amanda. He had a legal
right
to see her, but he never exercised it. She wondered what the school would do – how long they’d wait before they started calling people.

Standing in the corner, her hands still under her armpits, Meghan tried to recall who she had put on the school’s list of people to call in case of emergency. As she recalled that she had placed her mother on the list, she felt as if everything would be taken care of. As she thought of Amanda and the boy that smelled of peanut butter, her eyes began to swell with tears.

“What about you?” Elena asked, breaking the silence in the room.

Meghan wiped her eyes and responded, “I have a daughter. She’s probably getting out of kindergarten now. She’s six, her name is Amanda.”

“It’s okay, we all did it. Cry, get it out sister,” Elena said as she patted the bench beside her with her hand.

“It’s just. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t know where she’ll end up – who will pick her up from school. She’s going to be so scared. We were going to unpack her back pack tonight. She’s really going to be confused,” Meghan slowly walked toward the bench on the wall to her left.

“We all have the same problems,” Shellie stated without any expressed emotion as she continued to pace the floor.

“Don’t pay attention to her, that’s all she does,” Elena said as she motioned toward Shellie.

Elena scooted across the bench toward where Meghan was beginning to sit.

“I don’t have a living will, an attorney – anything. My husband hasn’t really seen her since she was six months old. My
ex-husband
that is. I imagine she’ll go to my parents. She’s really going to have a tough time with this. Oh God. What has happened?
Why me
?” Meghan asked openly.

Megan placed her head in her hands and began to softly cry as Elena held her in her arms. Her head a whirlwind of emotion, she tried to remember if she locked the doors at her home before she took Amanda to school. She lifted her head from her hands and looked at the floor.

“My car. My SUV. It’s at the car wash. It’s unlocked and my purse is in the front seat. Fuckity fuck. My credit cards are in it. Perfect, this is just perfect,” Meghan said as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Funny isn’t it?” Shellie looked up as she paced the floor.

“What’s funny, weirdo?” Elena turned and asked, still sitting on the bench comforting Meghan.

“What we think of when we first get here. After a week or so, it really doesn’t matter. None of it will matter after he kills us. Where our purse is. Credit cards. Bullshit that doesn’t matter. He grabbed me at the grocery store. I was worried about my milk spoiling,” Shellie stopped pacing as she spoke.