Chapter 54th

Just as Joe had anticipated, Chris was shortly back – his approach announced in advance by his noisy stomping down the wooden steps… no excuse for failing with so much time to prepare, or so the cop's final glare at me told.

Chris was finally upon us again, muttering a curse about how he was tired of getting caught in the middle of our plotting. In his hand, a plain kitchen knife peeping from the dark. I was unfortunate to look at it, and Chris caught me staring – he captured that stare and smiled at me, a sadistic pleasure illuminating his face – it promised he was doing that for me, for my horror alone… my fault! The cop stared quietly, much calmer than he'd be, was it not for his fail-proof plan and his ill-placed faith in me.

Chris grabbed the cop by his uniform and pulled him forward across the basement floor, dropping him on his knees. He turned to look at me one last time with his mean, entertained smile, just to make sure I had enough of a view from where I was slouching, to make sure I was watching.

"Don't get me wrong…" he let out a carefree sigh, turning to his victim "I won't enjoy this terribly. Not with you, at least! Still…" he cocked a smile "…I'll have my share of fun!"

Time started ticking slowly – dragging, like sweat down my forehead! Chris bent down on one knee, grabbed a tuft of the cop's hair in his hand, pulled his head upwards. I rose, jumping up from my position, shovel raised in the air – all for show, all for the cop to see, for the world to think I could at least try it against Chris…

But oh, if only I could! – the thought occurred to me – if only I could pretend a little better… a little longer… To pretend I pretended and fool myself in the process, and drive it down his neck without my even knowing it, down that softest part, that part I liked to wrap my arms around, that part I wished I had the girlish daring to kiss… to wound it instead, close my eyes and don't look – not at the blood, nor into his blue eyes, to step away just before the first splash, turn away and close my eyes until it was all over: his life, and that nightmare which I had brought upon myself – all of it over, undone, magically resolved by one fell swoop.

"I can do it" I caught myself saying in an exhilarated thought, my limbs shaking with pain, anxiety and exhaustion "I can do it!" I screamed internally, the cop's eyes growing heavy on me, expectant, despondent, losing faith… even though I'd do it: I'd kill Chris! What was the matter?

…The matter was I had already failed. I wasn't moving, after all: I merely stood there, frozen like a statue behind Chris, shovel up in the air, eyes watery, panic-stricken, dreaming I would as I looked down at his neck, at the copper locks of his hair falling over it. How really weak I was! How silly of me, to think even for a second that I could, and indulge dastard hope again.

"Just a reminder… you couldn't save anyone…" Chris's smoothest voice spoke, but not to me – he might as well have. "You're pathetic!"

I dropped the shovel as if it had stung me, I paced back, cowardly anticipating fate. The cop hung his head, Chris turned at the clank, looking down at the tool wobbling next to him as if a ghost had dropped it, then looking up at me – the very ghost that had tried.

His eyes glared straight into mine, mute with brief confusion, and then surprised as he pieced together the rusty yet sharp enough little shovel; and that feeble, shaking thing standing behind him with watery, terrified eyes, hands still half up in the air, separated, poised to attack.

I saw it then – the strangely crimson hue of outrage that swirled across the blue of his eyes, the incoming consequence of my failed attempt – the one I chose, knowing it would ensue, ignoring how terrible it might be. Reminded, I cowered before it like the last person standing on a lonely beach watching a towering tidal wave grow closer, knowing it was useless to run. Overwhelmed. Too close. Too little time. Limbs frozen with fear!

Chris stood, growing over me, his jaw tightened with the unsavory taste of betrayal, his arm sprung, slapping me across the face with the back of his hand before I had enough time to react. It threw me to the wall, and from there I collapsed to the floor like a bowling pin, and then I didn't know whether it was psychological defeat or the searing pain that held me there, holding my face, whimpering quietly as I watched Chris walk to me, his menacing shadow growing over me as his murderous attention switched focus.

"You still have some fight left in you, I see…" he observed, slowly walking to me. "What were you going to do Abby, huh?" he did it again… he terrorized me! "Were you going to kill me?"

"L-leave her alone!!" The cop spoke up, managing to get Chris to turn his neck – but that was all. I deserved it more: his undivided attention! And it chilled me to the bone!

"Did you find it in you?" Chris chased down my wet stare, smothering it in his impassive, cruel one "…the strength to be a hero?"

I winced.

"Funny… I seem to be in a room full of heroes now. The noblest of humanity, selfless and keen on protecting… And yet, their best efforts have amounted to nothing!" Chris observed in a cruel mockery. "…nothing but annoy me further."

He took one threatening step toward me. I pulled myself, crawling deeper into the wall if that was a possibility, finally too scared to protect my pride. And it must have been a truly ugly sight to behold: my helpless squirming and crawling away, because the cop grimaced from his distance, dropped his head, then cried out:

"L-let her go!!" he screamed, terrorized in his own way and finally experiencing some of that guilt - after all, as he himself put it: "S-she did it for me… S-she didn't want to, she… only did it because I asked her to!"

Chris looked over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing as they turned back to me.

"I didn't take you for a team player, Abby. But…" he paused "…Judging by your position on the floor, I don't think you're any good at it. Ironically for you…" he briefly turned to look at the cop, before looking at me again, the object of his threats "I would go easier on her if I knew it was her doing alone. After all, who am I to condemn a cornered animal giving in to its most primal instincts? And what's more primal than the urge to kill – warranted or not? But as it turns out, it was no feat of survival, and you were only doing as you're told? The cop's puppet, when you refuse to be mine? Doing as you're told, listening to him when he has done nothing but prove himself incapable of doing anything to save you from yourself? Well, that is disappointing… and it makes me extra angry! Once again, courage doesn't take you very far, does it, Joe? Any of you, really!"

"It's… it's not her fault, please!" The cop cried, desperately pleading now that he was served the same guilt trip Chris had enjoyed torturing me with "…it's… it's mine! Entirely mine!"

"Oh, I know…" Chris finally knelt by me, starting into my eyes with that pleased warmth that scared more than unyielding cruelty could – because it told me he'd enjoy it "…and I'll make sure I remind her of that with every bone I break in her limbs, and she'll never pull a successful variation of that stunt again."

My breathing picked up.

Chris's smooth face was relaxed again. Relaxed enough to almost smile.

"I'll make it slow too, so she can feel every bit of it. Let's see how she'll like you then!"

I heaved, gasping for air, gently squirming as Chris knelt before me, watching, savoring his threats and the almost physical effect they had upon blocking my air. Hell had finally opened its doors and welcomed me in – playing and teasing was over, and the real pain was about to start!

"Are you all ready, Abby?" he quietly asked, feigning that disturbing friendliness I had learned to abhor. "…I'll defer it to you: which limb do you want me to start with?"

My eyes grew wide with fear!