Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-28428152-20181009022551

Chapter VII

“NO! NO! NO!”

“Ben! Ben! What is it?”

For a moment, Ben still thought he was in the dungeon, trapped with the Nameless. But then he felt the warm comforting embrace of his grandmother, rocking him gently.

“You okay?” Charlie asked from the doorway, still in his boxers.

“C-can’t breathe!” he cried, gasping for air. His lungs seemed to be constricting within him, trying to push the life out of him.

Helen released her comforting hug, and instead put her hand on his head, calmly stroking his hair.

“Shh, shh…. It’s alright, sweetie. It’s alright. We’re right here. Nothing can hurt you, baby, we’re right here.”

Charlie sat down at the foot of Ben’s bed, putting a reassuring hand on Ben’s thigh.

“You’re fine. It was just a dream, right? Deep breaths, son. Deep breaths.”

Ben was starting to calm down and followed his grandfather’s instructions, focusing his attention on his grandmother’s hand on his head.

“Yeah,” he choked. “Just a dream.”

“It’s alright,” Helen soothed. “It’s alright. See? You’re home. You’re home, where you’re safe. Nothing but us. We’ll protect you.”

Ben’s breathing was beginning to return to normal, as was his heart rate. He took in his surroundings, observing the dim glow of the moon through the blinds, the red glow of his alarm clock, and the two comforting figures beside him.

I’m home, he told himself.

“You okay?” Helen asked after a moment when Ben had finally found himself in a normal state.

“Yeah,” he said.

She looked him in the eyes, concern written all over her face.

“Do you need to sleep in our room, tonight? It’s okay if you do.”

“No,” he said. “No, I’ll be fine.”

“You sure, Ben?” Charlie asked. “Nobody will think the less of you if you do.”

“I’m sure,” he said.

“Okay, sweetie. We’ll be right in our room down the hall if you need us, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Alright. Well, good night.”

“Good night.”

“We love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Good night, Ben.”

“Good night, grandpa.”

Charlie smiled at him as he exited the room, leaving the door cracked.

No, Ben thought. ''I won’t do it. I can’t do it. I’d rather die.''

*  *     *     *  *

“So, that’s the final verdict, huh?” the Nameless demanded, standing inside the bars, towering over him.

Ben spat on his shoes, saying nothing. The Nameless raised a foot, observing the wad of saliva.

“Now, that’s not very nice, is it? I think you ought to rethink how you treat your superiors.”

He leaned down, putting his face even with Ben’s, contorting Mohamed’s features.

“Now. I really think you should think about your decision before things get ugly.”

Ben hawked a loogey and shot it right into the bastard’s eyeball.

“That’s gross. And I also take that as a ‘no.’ Very well. You’ve stated your position quite clearly, now I’ll state mine.”

He pulled out a long, branching, needle-like knife and held it in front of Ben’s eye.

“You know what they say, Ben. An eye for an eye.”

He jabbed the object through Ben’s eyeball, immeasurable pain shooting through his skull.

“Hold still, or else I’ll slip.”

Ben could hear the ripping of muscle behind his screams of pain as his right eye was ripped out of his skull, blood, muscles, and nerves dangling out of the empty socket.

“Oh, you think that was bad, huh? Well, I’ve got news for you, buddy. There’s a lot more where that came from. Like I said, you’ve got sand. But I’m starting to think you might have too much sand.”

Ben could feel the device being stabbed into him again, flesh tearing down his arm.

“PLEASE!” he screamed. “MAKE IT STOP!”

“Then rethink your position, Ben,” he snarled, ripping open Ben’s right forearm.

“No! Please, anything else!”

“Then maybe I oughta make you… listen!”

The device swiftly sliced off Ben’s left ear, and the Nameless held it up before him.

“You can’t pass out from the pain, here. I can go for eternity like this. Now, what do you say?”

“Okay,” Ben gasped, hanging his head in resignation.

“Okay, what?”

“Okay… I’ll do it. I’ll do what you say…. I just want it to stop…. I just want to be left alone….”

“Very well. You can wake up, now. You’ll know what to do.”

*  *     *     *  *

Ben awoke for the second time that night, tears staining his face and his sheets wrapped around him like a mummy. He had never felt so much relief before, from having no pain. He’d experienced so much, but he had never felt such agony before. No bones breaking or bats being beaten into him could compare. The thought of what might happen if he didn’t pull through was more than Ben could comprehend. It was enough to drive him mad.

And it had to be now.

He unraveled himself from the sheets and put on his clothes, boots, coat, and gloves. Outside, he could hear the wind howling furiously, and looking through his window, snow was swirling all around the house in a dizzying swirl. He picked up his bag and emptied its contents onto the floor, stuffing a few extra clothes into it, as well as a book or two. He snuck to the bathroom and, in the dark, grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste as well. Thinking for a moment more, he went into the kitchen and grabbed some food, as well. He saw his grandmother’s purse lying on the counter, and grabbed the cash that was in her wallet, hating himself more with everything he put into his bag. Sighing, he put his backpack in his closet just in case he failed and somebody found it. He soundlessly snuck over to his grandparents’ bedroom down the hall and heard the quiet sounds of peaceful sleep.

He couldn’t let himself feel. Not now.

Wiping the sweat from his eyes, he put his hand on the door of the hallway closet, and slowly opened it.

Creak!

He stopped abruptly, listening to the deafening silence.

Nothing.

Sighing, he swung the door open as fast as he could, the door only giving a brief and quiet squeal of protest.

Shit, he thought. I can’t reach the top shelf.

He noticed that on the floor was a plastic tub, and so he pulled it out just enough for him to grab a foothold of, and eased himself up, his feet rocking on the lid, just hoping that he didn’t—

CRASH!

He heard a snort from within the bedroom, followed by a “Honey, wake up.”

Panicking, he climbed inside of the tub and closed the closet just as the bedroom door opened, followed by the sounds of his grandfather’s feet slinking past, investigating the cause of the noise.

Ben’s head throbbed from where he’d hit the floor, but the empty tub was too cramped to move in. It was hot in there, too, and his breath rang in his ears like the memory of a ghost, deformed by death.

“I thought I heard Ben scream,” he heard Helen whisper from the doorway.

“Hold on,” Charlie answered, “I’ll grab the gun.”

Ben’s heart jumped and thundered as he heard the closet door open and Charlie shuffling things around on the top shelf. It didn’t help that he thought he felt something crawling on his arm, tickling the hairs that stood on end.

After a moment, the door was closed again, and Ben could hear Charlie making his way into his room.

“Ben?” he called. “Ben?”

“Where is he, Charlie?”

“I don’t know. Ben?”

“Do you see him?” Helen asked a few minutes later. Sweat was trickling freely down Ben’s body.

“No. Call the police.”

Helen raced into the kitchen, where Ben could hear her dialing the phone.

“Jesus Christ,” Ben heard Charlie whisper to himself. “God…. Ben….”

“Yes,” Helen said from the kitchen, loudly and clearly, “Somebody just broke into our house and kidnapped our grandchild. No, we don’t know where they went. We heard our grandson scream and what sounded like something breaking, and when we investigated our grandson was gone. Yes. Yes. No. Yes. Okay, thank you.”

“They coming?” Charlie croaked.

“Yeah. They said they’ll be here in ten minutes.”

Ben didn’t hear them say another word, but only their footsteps walking away. His body was limp, and his eyes focused on nothing except the dark void in that plastic bin. He didn’t think, he didn’t feel. He simply existed, his mind numb.

Eventually, he heard the approaching tires from the distance, followed by voices. He knew that he only had moments to act, so he quickly scrambled out of the tub and escaped the closet, pulling down the ladder that led to the attic. Swiftly, he climbed up and pulled the ladder back up, gasping reflexively at the cacophony of noise it made. Mere seconds later, he heard the front door open as heavy boots investigated the house. Luckily, they never thought to check the attic.

He stayed up in that attic the whole night, trying not to fall asleep and venture in that torture chamber with the Nameless. It was the single longest night he had ever experienced.

The next morning, he heard his grandparents getting ready to leave, and sticking his head against the floor, he gathered that his grandparents were headed to the police station for a few hours. This gave him some mild relief, as his stomach was on fire from hunger, and his mouth was parched. But then his stomach did a churn. He couldn’t make out all the words, but it sounded as though Penny was meeting them at the station. God…. His mother…. And right when he’d just started to build what could have been a lasting and flourishing relationship….

They eventually left at long last, Ben’s impatience slowing down time and making his legs itching to move around. Waiting a few more minutes just to be sure, Ben made his way back down and made himself a large bowl of cereal and watched TV, his mind far away from the land of reality. He could barely comprehend what he had become anymore, or what he planned to do. But eventually, he heard tires approaching the house early in the afternoon, so he quickly turned off the TV and raced up the ladder, bringing his empty bowl with him in case they noticed it. And eventually, Ben dozed off to sleep, tired beyond reason. But for once, he had no disturbances in his sleep. He was completely dreamless.

The air was frigid when he woke up, despite the heavy coat wrapped around his body. Outside, the wind howled even more furiously, and Ben couldn’t help but shudder. His eyes were bleary, and his face felt bloated. He didn’t have to remember where he was, nor what had transpired previously. It was as if somebody had paused a videotape and was simply pressing “play” again, the little white triangle faded from extended use.

Stealthily, he eased over to the ladder and pressed his ear against the floor.

His grandparents were asleep.

Suppressing a cough, he eased the ladder down, making such little noise that he even surprised himself.

Their door was closed, but not unlocked. He eased his timid, tear-stained body through, the warmth from the portable heater they’d placed in the corner bringing flexibility in his muscles as he observed the two peaceful bodies, with no sound but the blizzard outside and the warm clicking of the heater.

Ben had heard his grandfather mention to Helen earlier, before he fell asleep, that he would be keeping the gun in his nightstand, just in case. So, Ben carefully made his way over, the sound of his boots slow and coldly methodical.

He reached the nightstand, and eased it open, the dry wood scraping against itself, but not so much to wake the bodies. He looked inside, his eyes adjusted enough to the dark to make out the shape of his grandfather’s revolver with its polished cherry handle glinting in the night. He wrapped his fingers around it, feeling the familiar weight of it, thinking back to what his grandfather had taught him. No… no, he didn’t need to think about that. He couldn’t. He needed to be single-minded, devoid of emotion…. Devoid of humanity….

Ben checked the chamber and raised the gun, pointing it at his grandfather’s oblivious face, peacefully unaware. This was it. This was what it had all been leading up to. The moment Ben would become a pawn, a shell stripped of the very essence that made him who he was. He turned the safety off. He put his finger on the hammer, the soft click resounding around the quiet room.

Charlie opened his eyes. 