Insentient, page 25
“What are you doing?” I manage to croak, taking in his ragged appearance, his gaunt face, the knife in his hand…
“Waiting for your boyfriend,” he answers simply.
“Why?” I ask before realization dawns that I don’t correct him.
“Because he’s gonna get me outta here,” he responds. “And you’re gonna help me,” he adds much to my confusion.
“How can I help you?” I ask as I strain to sit up from my slumped position on the floor in front of the fireplace in the main hall. My movement is seriously hampered by my tightly bound wrists. Any physical discomfort though, is overshadowed by the stream of cold dread running through my body at the moment.
“He took something from me, I’ll take something from him.” He indicates me with a flick of the knife and I immediately shake my head before stopping abruptly from the pain.
“It doesn’t work like that,” I attempt in a soothing voice. “I don’t know what I have to say to convince you,” I add with a bit more frustration evident in my voice.
“We’ll just wait and see,” he says assuredly. His eyes are cold, and the rest of his body language is tense, especially his hand which is currently clenched so tight on the knife, his knuckles are white, and the veins are protruding on the back of his hand.
“Did you start that fire?” I ask, even though I think I already know the answer.
“Just a diversion. It worked,” is all he says before he shrugs casually.
“Did you…hurt anyone?” I ask in a small voice.
“Don’t know. Don’t care,” he responds, and I can tell from his expression that he truly doesn’t.
I stare at his features closely and there are tell-tale signs of drug abuse evident in the discoloration of the skin around the sunken sockets of his eyes, missing teeth and overall sallow appearance. I want to keep him talking. I’m afraid if I don’t, I have no idea what he might do.
“Maybe we can help each other figure out how we came to be here,” I offer. In a way, it might be helpful to see if there are any similarities to the circumstances that brought us both here; on the other hand, I wish this conversation could take place with a normal human being, not a delusional sociopath.
He doesn’t respond, only stares at me with eyes that haven’t changed from their previous chilly temperature.
“I fell in a pond in Brazil right before I found myself here. Did you fall in too?”
“Why the hell would I be in Brazil?” he asks and his expression changes toward me as if I’m the crazy one.
“I don’t…know,” I say, suddenly confused. I honestly thought that swirling pool was significant in my appearance here. His assertion is so honest, I find myself questioning the things I thought I knew and now, I’m so utterly confused, I’m not sure what to say.
We sit for a few moments, my eyes darting down to watch as he flicks his dirty, chipped fingernail on the edge of the blade before I finally speak again.
“Why do you need to get back?” I ask absently as I watch the knife.
“I ain’t goin’ back to jail,” he responds after a tense minute.
“Why would you go to jail?” I ask without looking at him.
“I didn’t do shit wrong.”
“Well, then, you shouldn’t go to jail,” I say in an even tone.
“That ain’t what they’re gonna say.”
“Who is ‘they’?” I ask, and I don’t want to be intrusive and piss him off, but he seems somewhat engaged in this conversation.
“Some dumb bitch and her boyfriend,” he responds crudely.
“Oh,” I utter and wait for him to elaborate without prompting from me.
“I go over there, we all party, she wants to hit it, we go upstairs, I hit it, right? She changes her mind, starts screaming for me to get off her. He calls the cops. What an idiot! We’re all high, we’re all gonna get busted so I jumped out the window. It hurt…bad and then it didn’t and then I open my eyes and I’m here. I think, ‘this is just some dumb ass dream, or I’m so wasted I made this shit up’, but I don’t know. Like, I feel stuff here. You know what I’m sayin’? he asks me directly and I find myself nodding because I do agree with him on this.
“I gotta get back, gotta get the hell out of there.”
“What if you’re really not there? We don’t have cops here. Maybe your safe here?” I try.
“Hello! Have you seen this place? It’s something out of a horror movie. Or it’s hell and he’s the Devil and the little freaks running around this place are his minions or something. I ain’t staying here,” he insists.
Ok, so I’ll admit, when I first came here, that explanation was in the back of my mind due to the absence of any logical explanation from anyone here. Now, though, I know that couldn’t be further from plausible.
Krit has proven to be a complex man, far from evil, at least now. He’s still a mystery to me. His cryptic words and the small amount of information I glean from them only seems to confuse me even more. The inhabitants of this strange place aren’t helping either and I have a feeling they don’t reveal much because it’s an unpleasant truth they fear I won’t be able to handle.
What they don’t know is that I am more than capable of handling most unpleasant situations. My adult life has been committed to dealing with the pain of others as well as my own. I wish they could trust me, but I feel as if they are sheltering me from it and I love them all the more for it.
“What’re you thinkin’ about?” I hear, and I realize that I zoned out for a moment. There’s a madman seated before me and my wrists are bound by some scratchy organic material and somehow, I’m lost in thought.
“You tryin’ to figure out how to get away from me? ‘Cause that ain’t gonna happen,” he states in a frosty tone.
“No. Just trying to make sense of this,” I say as I stare at the stone floor before me. “You know,” I start as I look up at him, “maybe this place exists for people like us to put things in perspective. Maybe I can help you…we can help each other,” I amend as I watch his eyes narrow at me. “I think the key to figuring out how to leave is knowing what drove us here in the first place. Maybe that’s it,” I add in a soft voice. “Do you…want to talk about it? I mean, talk about what was going on in your life before you came here? I’m a good listener. I could give you my take on the situation -”
“What are you – a fucking shrink?” he asks with a definite sneer.
“Just a shrink,” I respond with a straight face.
“Figures. You seem like a fake bitch, you wanna manipulate me and I ain’t a stranger to that shit. The rest of them couldn’t help me. You can’t either.”
“I can try,” I offer and all I receive is a shake of his scraggly head.
“No thanks,” he replies in a flat voice.
We’re staring at each other, my mind trying to conjure up my next sentence to break up this awkward silence when I feel it.
The warmth, the slight squeeze and in this moment, I am so utterly relieved to know that he’s back. I try not to display my sudden knowledge and keep an even expression as I continue to stare at the man before me.
“What are you doing here?” I hear his voice resonate throughout the massive room and before I can do or think anything, I am being hauled up and held tightly. The sharp blade is firmly held against my throat and my stunned body is now tensed to the point of snapping.
Two pinpricks of light are visible from the other side of the room and they appear to be coming closer.
“Don’t take another step. I’ll cut her head clean off,” I hear behind me.
“Really? And why would you do that?” Krit says in a bored tone.
“I want out of here. You get me out of here, you can have your woman back. It’s that simple,” he says and my neck strains back as the blade presses harder against my skin.
“Hmm. Yeah, that won’t happen. Liz?” he asks, and I blink a few times to focus on him.
“Yeah?” I whisper on a shaky breath.
“Close your eyes,” he commands, and I can only stare in confusion.
“Darling, close your eyes,” he says again.
“What the fuck -” my captor starts before Krit interrupts him.
“Do you trust me?” he asks me.
“Yes,” I whisper as the knife presses menacingly close to my throat.
“Then, close your eyes,” he says, and I comply.
“Tighter,” he says, and I squeeze them shut.
“What the hell?!” I hear behind me before a shocked gasp erupts.
“Know me.” I hear, and the sound is definitely Krit’s voice, but it echoes and reverberates through this room, washing through me and making my skin prickle.
“What are you?” I hear the man behind me whisper in awe as the stinging pressure ceases against my neck and I fight to keep my eyes from opening. I so want to see what he’s seeing but I promised Krit and I trust him completely.
I feel heat and wind and something that feels like it’s pinging against my skin. It makes me raise my bound hands to shield my face as the onslaught continues. The man behind me is screaming, gasping, choking and I can’t even imagine what’s happening behind me as his voice becomes more and more distant. An intense wave hits me, and it feels like it moves through my body before everything stills. No sound, no feeling, nothing.
I stand with my hands still covering my face, my eyes still tightly closed, waiting for something. I don’t know what.
“I didn’t know I could do that,” I hear Krit’s voice and it’s back it’s normal tone.
“What did you do?” I ask as my body relaxes but I find I’m a bit apprehensive about opening my eyes. I don’t know if I want to see.
“You know? I always thought I could do that? But I never had the inclination. That’s interesting,” he says casually, adding to my confused state.
“You can open your eyes, Liz,” he adds in a slightly amused tone, or so it seems.
My hands drop down, the scratchy material binding my wrists loosening all on its own, I feel it fall to my feet.
“What did he do to you?” I hear as my eyes slowly open. He’s closer now, the hood is gone, and his face is coming into focus.
“Just knocked me out, tied my hands up, threw a couple threats at me, but that was about it. Oh!” I gasp out and my eyes widen as I remember. “He started a fire outside the palace -” I state worriedly.
“I took care of that,” he interrupts me. “It didn’t get far enough to damage anyone’s home, but it was close. Everything is back as it should be,” he murmurs softly.
“That’s good.” I don’t bother to ask the how’s or why’s, I ‘m just so happy to see him right now, I’m fairly humming with it.
“Did he…umm…do anything else?” he asks, and I can tell from his expression, this is not a pleasant question for him to ask.
“No! Oh god no, that would be…yuck,” I finally get out with a grimace. “I just talked to him, well, more like tried to talk some sense into him, but…where is he? What did you do with him?” I ask suddenly, turning slowly, almost expecting to see charred remains or something equally gross, but there’s nothing. Just a blazing fire in the fireplace. My head turns but stops and turns back to view a small, swirling vortex of what looks like dust. My eyes squint to focus on the constantly revolving mass before I finally find my voice.
“Is that him?” I ask without looking from it.
“It is.”
“Whoa,” I utter without thinking. “What are you going to do with him?” I ask.
“Send him where he belongs.”
“And where does he belong?” I ask. The swirled particles raise up a bit and I hear, then see the front doors open. The mass quickly shoots through the room and out of the doors before they both close with a bang.
“Beyond the wall. That’s a good place for him. He can join the others. He’ll fit right in,” he says, and I turn to find him regarding me intensely.
“Why? Are they…evil? Malicious?” I ask.
“They are the worst of the worst. They have no problem taking others with them. Innocent people like you. I can’t possibly understand that. They have no place here, or anywhere, no matter what they believe,” he says and we’re back to cryptic answer/non-answers.
“What do you mean?” I attempt, but he’s shaking his head at me.
“That scared me, Liz,” he says instead as he takes the few steps separating us and turns it into a mere breath’s distance.
“It scared me too,” I whisper as I angle my face to view his more closely.
“I never thought…I mean, I didn’t know I was capable of…” he trails off on a sigh as his fingers lightly touch my neck. I can’t feel anything other than the tingles and warmth his fingers bring to my skin.
“It’s Ok. Everything’s Ok now, right?” I whisper back as my eyes drink him in.
His expression is somber, serious, focused intently on me and the only thing I can think to do is step close to him and wrap my arms tightly around his waist. I’m rewarded with his arms embracing me, the feel of his hands rubbing my back and pulling me closer still.
He fills me with such peace and calm and his hands are lulling me into a blissful, serene state as his lips caress my hairline tenderly.
Such a well of emotion erupts in me. I don’t want to leave here, or rather, I really don’t want to leave him. That thought scares me more than my previous situation, I realize.
There’s so much I want to say, so many things I want to do to show him how I feel, but I content myself for the moment just to stand in his arms and burrow into his quiet strength.
I feel his hold loosen as one hand trails up my side and settles on the side of my face, urging my head to tilt up and accept his warm kiss. Just like the others, it starts out sweet and innocent enough but quickly turns into something urgent and passionate. I can feel him pulling back a bit and my hands are having none of that. They are firmly splayed in his hair and I urge him back to deepen the kiss.
His hands are everywhere; touching, kneading, our breath mingling and small gasps and pants erupt from both of our mouths as they fuse together. My fingers are clumsily attempting to undo the buttons in his jacket as he pulls my dress from my shoulder, caressing the bare skin with his lips and heightening my arousal.
“Please don’t stop,” I blurt out in a breathy whisper.
“I don’t plan on it,” he responds in a course rasp before pulling me tighter to him. My view changes from the front hall to a firelit room I know I’ve never seen before.
“What’s this?” I whisper as I gaze at the scene around me.
“My room.”
From what I can see, this room is decorated just as nicely as the one he gave me, but the bed is even more massive than mine.
Of course, nothing in here is nearly as intriguing as the man standing before me and my eyes turn to him almost expectantly. The anticipation I’m feeling manifests itself as a thrumming pulse, fluttery stomach and constant warmth pooling in my core.
“I’ve never done this before,” he states as we stand a mere step apart.
“I kind of figured that,” I reply with a small smile.
“I’ve seen it, I just never thought I would want to,” he adds in a low murmur.
“Well, it’s not the same as porn, I have to tell you. This is more about two people wanting to be…closer to each other,” I say as I reach out tentatively and touch one of the buttons on his jacket. My fingers sort of fumble on it before I realize that there is no hole for the button to go through. My brows furrow in concentration as I stare at his chest.
“So, you’re not a naughty nurse and I’m not the horny pool boy?” he asks, and my eyes flit up to his face. I can see the beginnings of a smile developing.
“No. And don’t even think about inviting the neighbors over for a gang bang,” I state with a matching smirk before I blow out a frustrated huff of breath. “Is there a zipper in the back of this thing? What the hell?” I whisper more to myself than to him.
He seems to hesitate a moment and I can see something in his expression, like extreme concentration and suddenly, the black cloth seems to dissipate and scatter like so many particles, leaving me staring in awe.
He’s perfection, the type of body you see in underwear ads or sexy perfume commercials. Yes, I can see the faint skeletal structure beneath the ridges and valleys of skin encased muscle, but it does nothing to detract from my desire for him. It’s his body, it’s unique and beautiful and the look he’s giving me right now shows his vulnerability. I’m feeling far too clothed at the moment and my hands lift to the neckline of my dress before his hands stop me.
“Let me,” is all he says, and I stand obediently as his fingers brush against my skin, igniting my nerves and causing shivers to run down my spine, my legs, making my toes curl in the soft rug beneath my feet.
The fabric slips past my tingling skin and his eyes turn to a brighter, turbulent gray as he runs them over my exposed body. I’m nervous, I realize, or maybe anxious, I’m not quite sure, but whatever it is, it’s making me tremble. His appreciative gaze is warming, and I can feel pressure surrounding every inch of my body as we stand and stare at each other.
“You’re beautiful. Just like I thought you’d be,” he whispers before his hand reaches out to lightly run his fingers down the side of my face.
I can’t speak. I can only swallow back the words that probably wouldn’t do this moment justice anyway. I’ve never had a man look at me with such wonder and I feel completely treasured.
His other hand lifts to mimic the movement of fingers on the other side of my face as I try to calm my swirling emotions.
“I love you.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth in a hushed whisper, I see his eyes brighten just a bit and I realize I can’t take that back. It’s out there and it’s true, and I don’t regret saying it as I watch a play of expressions across his face before his eyes close.
“You can’t,” is all he says.
“It’s how I feel. Maybe you don’t understand that, and that’s Ok. They’re just words. I’d rather show you,” I insist as I step closer to him and cup the side of his chiseled face. It really appears as if he wants to say something, but he holds back. Instead, he lowers his lips to mine, gently probing with his own before I feel his arms encircle me and my feet lift from the rug below. The next thing I know, my body is placed on the soft bed, splayed before him and his hands are raising my knees, opening me to him as his eyes fasten to the place I need him most.
