Battle the Dark: Chapter 30

Todd was awakened by something poking his ribs.  It was pitch black, damp and smelled like a musty closet.  For a moment, he thought he was in the tomb, next to Victor's rotting corpse, but then, a light went on above him.  The poking was The Slice and Dice's foot, kicking him to rouse him.


"What? I'm tired, okay?"


Michael Leona laughed.  "The first rule of a brainwasher; get 'em while they haven't slept."


Todd sighed and turned himself over, his back still aching from the last time.  "What now?"


"We have to talk."


Todd felt sick.  Knowing, after eight years, what that meant, he felt the food rush upward in his gut, but pushed it back down and found the strength, somehow, to smile hatefully.  "I'll kill you."


"Yep, you'll kill me.  Just like the other five hundred times you've said that.  Think I don't remember?  I'm not the one who was off in some la la land.  I was fully there.  Can you say the same thing?"


Todd used all of his strength not to falter from his menacing personae.  "Who cares?  So, you got to live every moment of my torment.  Congratulations.  I've had enough of it, and don't need the rest."


"Maybe," he tapped his knife.  He walked over to a stone chair, and sat.  He tapped his knife more, against the side of it.  The noise made Todd feel sick again.


Todd pushed himself to standing.  "I can fight, you know.  I've got two free hands right here.  You, smartass, are the one who gave them back to me."


"And you, dumbass, think it matters.  You've fought me before."


Todd was silent. He never remembered fighting The Slice and Dice back, except for the time when he almost hurt Blair.  In the rest of his rememberings, he never saw himself fighting back.  His hands were always pinned to that chair . . .


"What's the matter?  Confused, Manning?"  Leona continued.


Todd was searching his mind for any clue.  Nothing came.  He didn't know how he, standing a little over 6 feet, could not have overpowered this man, who was as slim as a pole and stood inches below him.  He knew he was stronger than that.  I'd never let anyone do that to me.  I'm strong.  The voice he heard say this was his, younger, possibly fourteen.


Todd finally spoke, "You going to fill me in, or you just want me to try and fight you again?"


Leona laughed.  His cachinnations reminded him so much, in such an eerie way, of Peter's.  "I do like when you fight me, sure.  You've never won.  That's because of one thing."


"What one thing."


"I know which buttons to push."


Todd was fearful for a moment.  He was unsure what his opponent meant, but knew he had to be right.  He was too relaxed to be bluffing.  He held something that he knew would turn Todd to a nothingness.  And, he had done it, time and time again.


"You're the sickest man I've ever met, and I've known a lot.  I've known them in secret societies, I've known them in fake ass churches, I've known them in prisons and mental hospitals.  You take the cake.  And as I've said earlier, I will kill you.  Stone dead."


"You're not half wrong.  I am sick.  I know this, and I've accepted my illness as a way of life.  Carlo Hesser also knows this, and he accepts it as my way of life and his way to answers.  He doesn't know all of it, but he knows enough.  He chooses to let me do my thing, and get him the answers he wants."


Todd seethed.  "Carlo.  That little runt needs everyone else to do his blackest shit."


"It would seem so.  When you say I'm sick, I don't disagree, nor do you anger me.  I've been this way since I was a child.  I get off on hurting.  And, it's not the kind of hurting that another human being will even accept, if you could find them.  My way of life is to have a victim.  You've been it for the last almost nine years now."


Though it was beyond his immediate understanding, somewhere, in the back of his mind, he understood what the man was telling him.  Then Leona said, "Now, if I put on a robe, like this one..."  he took out the monk's robe, similar to the Grim Reaper's, "And I pull the hood down, like this..."


Todd knew his breathing was becoming labored and fast.  He felt slightly lightheaded, and attempted to keep his composure.


Leona went on, "And I take out my lighter,"  he produced one from his pocket, "And I turn the flame on high,"  he adjusted the item.  


Todd's vision blurred, but he remained standing.  Choke the life out of him, now!  He could not take a single step.  He was frozen with fear.


"And I flick this little switch and produce a flame..."


Todd was standing in the ballroom, arches on one whole wall.  Beautiful candle sconces lined the walls, at each arch.  A string quartet played behind him, the beautiful sounds of Borodin, echoing through the place.  Everything was cream and gold.  There she was, standing with her hand out to him, her hair brought off her shoulders in an old-fashioned updo, one curl on each side touching down on her shoulders, feather-light.  He smiled and went to her.


***


Viki woke with a start to the sound of a small, high-pitched scream.  Grabbing for her robe, and shoving Clint a few times to alertness, she raced down the hall toward it.  Another one reached her ears, and then a child's crying, and she realized where it was coming from.  


Sam was sitting up in his bed, crying, "Mommy!  Dad!"


She flicked the lights on, and went to him, putting her arms around him and rocking him, gently.  "It's all right, Sam.  You're with Aunt Viki and Uncle Clint.  You're at Llanfair. You're all right."


"Daddy!  Dad!"  He cried, and her heart shattered into what felt like a thousand pieces.  


Clint looked on, worried about something else.  Jack hadn't woken up to comfort his brother, because he was not in his bed.


Clint said, "Viki?" and when she turned to look at him, he nodded at the second bed.  She closed her eyes and brought her attention back to Sam.


"Tell me about the dream, if you want to."


"Dad's hurt.  Dad's sad.  He's bleeding.  A man is trying to cut him."  Viki, alarmed at the accuracy of Sam's images, said, "My goodness, where would you think something like that, Sam?"


"Jack told me.  He told me that the man wants to cut Dad and Mommy."


Clint, angry at the child's words, went to the phone.  "Starr, we need you over here.  Yes, important.  You had better bring Addie along.  The troops need reinforcements."  Hanging up, he said, "Now off to find our other guest," and he left the room.


Jessica appeared in the doorway, Sam was just coming down from his hysteria.  One look at Viki's stricken, tear-stained face and she said, "Sam, you okay?"


The little boy shook his head 'no.'  


She said, "Come here,"  and he left Viki's arms and ran to hers.  She picked him up and held him, and sat with him on the armchair by the window.  Viki was grateful for the moments to pull herself together, thinking of her brother, alone, possibly cold and hungry, with one of the animals that had him for eight years.  She paced, then picked up the phone.  


"Natalie, it's me.  I need your help, please.  I have to know where to find John."  Viki pleaded.  Picking up a crayon and a sheet of paper from the little desk they had set up for Sam, she copied down the number and thanked her daughter, filling her in on the briefest of details.  At that moment, the baby began to cry.  Viki said, "Ryder?"


Jessica answered, "No, that's Ray," and started to get up.  Viki motioned her to remain, "I'll get him."


Jessica, who was still holding Sam, petted his head, and rocked him in the chair.  Calmer, except for the little short gasps associated with a child's profuse crying, he was quiet.  She carefully got up to bring him back to his bed.  She attempted to lie him down, and he said, "No."


She pulled back from him a bit and said, "Why, honey?"


"Don't leave me alone in here."


"I won't."


"I want my mommy."  He started to cry again.


"She'll be here soon."


"I want my Dad!  Please?  I want my Dad so bad."


"I know you do," Jessica choked back her own emotion.  "But he's not able right now.  He will, he just can't right now, that's all."


He wiped his own eyes with his little hands, and said, "What if he's all cut up?  How can he come back to see me?"


Jessica was not sure where to take this one, but she shushed him.  "You can't worry about that now.  He's going to be all right.  Now, can you try and rest?"


At that moment, Starr burst into the doorway.  "Sam, what's the matter?"


"Starr!"  He cried out, and put his arms out to her.  She raced over and held him, and he continued to cry, babbling on about Todd, Blair, knives and fears.  She shushed and rocked him in her arms.  "I've got it now, go ahead and see to your kids and getting some sleep.  Thank you, Jessica."


The poor little thing was almost cried out.  His pajama top was wet from sweat and tears.  Starr said, "Now, come on, you have to be a strong boy for Mommy and Daddy."  She could not believe she had said that; it sounded so hollow.  To her surprise, Sam sniffled and quieted.  "I know what you want."  Starr said.


He said, "Mommy."


"Well, I thought so.  You know what I could do?"


"What?"  he said, still reeling.


"Hang on."  She dialed her phone.  "Mom?  Sam needs you, hang on, it's important."  Pushing the speaker phone setting,  she handed him the cell phone.  


"Mommy?" Sam said.


She said, "Hey Little Man!"


Sam cried, "Mommy, it is you."


"Yes it is, and it's way way past bedtime there."


"Yeah.  I had a bad dream.  It was about you and Dad.  Mommy, are you bleeding?"


Blair's heart leaped in her chest.  "No, not at all.  Me, and Sister Rebecca Katherine, and John, and Timothy are all here working on a special project.  I'm not bleeding at all."


"Mom?  Is Dad bleeding?"


She closed her eyes, "No, Dad's not bleeding.  I know he's not, because the angels are taking care of him right now, and making sure he's okay.  Sister Rebecca Katherine even said so."


In the background, Sam heard the nun say, "Yes, little leprechaun, the angels are keeping watch over your mommy, daddy and even you."


Sam seemed to relax, "Mommy, my song."


"Oh that's right, you haven't had your bedtime singing have you?  Well, we will just have to fix that."  


Sam held the phone as his mother started to sing:


Where do you go with nothing to cling to,

your head in the clouds the rainbows behind you,

it’s so hard to breath, always searching for hope

But lost are those eyes, where I used to hide away

And gone are those dreams,

falling down

Starr could hear her mother's voice faltering, so she joined in, singing with her:

Still you only have one voice

just one chance here to hold onto, 

to reach for me, 

believe cause you only have one life to live


This song is a lifeline, 

so keep holding on to me, 


live for today’s dream, 


tomorrow's what will be, 


look and you’ll find you have one life to live.


Sam was asleep, and Starr carefully left the beside and went into the hallway.  She brought the phone to her ear, clicking off the speaker.  "Mom, are you all right?"


"Yes, Starr, I'm fine.  What happened?  Why does he...how does he know about Todd being hurt like this?"


"I can only guess."


"Your brother?  Wait until I get my hands on him..."


"Mom, don't, he's falling apart, too.  He's downstairs with Clint right now, just please, get Dad back."


She broke, "I'm trying."


"I know you are.  But hurry, Mom.  We need you both back here."


"I know, baby.  I'll be there as soon as I can."


When she hung up the phone, Blair looked as if someone had sucked half her life from her, and she knew the other half was held somewhere, in a very dark place.


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