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The Family Fête (Part 2 of 2)

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Morning/Evening all :)

Thanks to everyone who read Part 1 of this sinister short story, yesterday. As promised, here is the concluding second part.
Alternatively, you can read the whole story by clicking this link ➨ The Family Fête

WARNING:
This piece contains some violence, offensive language and themes that may disturb.

Have a productive Friday and a fabulous weekend :)

Bianca ♥

¨

The Family Fête (Part 2 of 2)

The fist in Lila’s gut clenched and the adrenaline release blurred her vision as she sprinted toward the neglected, weatherboard house. The partying teenagers, on the balcony, remained oblivious as she darted to the back of the house and searched for an entryway. There were no doors on the lower level, so she climbed a flight of rotting, wooden stairs, and then inched along a short passage, that would have made her mother claustrophobic, until she stood in front of an unusual screen door. It had no handle or door knob, nor were there hinges running down the length of the door. After some fiddling, Lila stuck her finger inside the hole, where the handle should have been, and pulled. Instead of opening outward, like a normal door, it lifted like a flap and opened upwards. The wooden door, behind the screen door, was identical.

With the peculiarity of the doors adding to her tension, Lila tiptoed into the unknown. The inside of the house could have passed for another dimension, for it was oddly quiet, the teenagers music inaudible, much like moving between the outside noise into the dead quiet of a sound-buffered film studio. She pressed her back against the wall, quietly removed her shoes, and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior. Humidity thinned the air and her clothing clung like shrink wrap. Within seconds, her eyes adjusted to the cramped, rectangular space around her. There were two closed doors; one on her left and one at the end of the room. She approached the first door and looked through the hole, where the handle should have been, to see a teenage boy, wearing headphones, with his back to her and engrossed in a game of Grand Theft Auto.

The door at the end of the room lifted up, and a short man, of no more than five feet, emerged. He closed the door behind him, turned and stared at Lila, who was no more than a few feet away from him. Lila’s heart fluttered and her internal organs clenched as she looked into the dark void that were his eyes.

“Good Afternoon,” Lila said, approaching him and holding out her hand.

He saw straight through her social disguise and made no move to shake her hand. The two strangers stared at each other for several seconds, no verbal exchange, their shadow selves circling each other.

Lila grabbed his hand, before he could react, and twisted him around so that his back was against her body, his throat confined by her forearm, and his testicles in a vice with her free hand. “I know that you’ve just grabbed a girl,” Lila whispered in his ear. “Where is she?”

He remained mute. “Don’t fuck with me,” she said, squeezing his testicles. “I’m not like those other mothers’ and women out there. I don’t view the world as a warm, fuzzy place. It’s a cesspool with scumbag motherfucker’s like you perched on the periphery. I will take great pleasure in ripping off your testicles with my bare hands and feeding them to you, one by one.”

He remained mute, but squealed under the pressure of Lila’s grip.

“The cops are on their way,” Lila continued. “It’s all over for you. You either give me my daughter with pain, or without, you decide.”

The teenager in the other room stirred, so Lila cut off the air to her adversary’s windpipe, rendered him unconscious, and propped him up against the wall. The teenager lifted the door like a giant flap and came face to face with Lila. “Where is the girl?” Lila shouted, gripping onto the door and holding it open. The boy’s face drained of colour and he ran back into the room, with Lila close behind. “The police are on their way,” Lila said, trying to work the boy into her corner. “If you tell me where the girl is, I will help you get out of this mess.” His eyes darted around the room and settled on a dirty plate with a knife and fork. Lila’s eyes did the same and settled on an empty beer bottle on the table to her left. Like synchronized swimmers, the boy lunged for the knife and Lila grabbed and broke the bottle. Brandishing their makeshift weapons, the boy moved first and attempted to stab Lila’s stomach, but Lila was no amateur and she slashed his knife-wielding hand and then knocked him out cold with a right hook.

She pulled the cables out of the back of the television and tied up the boy and the man, who was beginning to stir, and then, with the broken bottle top in her hand, opened the remaining door in the small space that was this sinister house. She inched her way around the edges of the pitch black room, stumbling over mute bodies until she reached the window. She pulled back the heavy black-out curtains to reveal black-painted windows, and stood for several seconds, until her eyes adjusted to the outline of dozens of girls, some as young as five, bound and gagged, with a needle fixed into each of their arms. Lila worked her way around the room until she found a light switch, eager to rescue these girls and stare into her daughter’s eyes once again. Her phone buzzed and vibrated in her pocket. It was her mother.

“Did you call the police?” Lila asked, before her mother could speak.

“We found Sophia,” Ellen said.

“Wait. What?” Lila asked, searching the eyes of the girls in the room.

“She was playing with another little girl,” Ellen continued, “she’s fine. Where are you?”

“Trust me, mother, you wouldn’t believe it.”

– THE END –

© 2013 B.G. Bowers All Rights Reserved

The post The Family Fête (Part 2 of 2) appeared first on Bianca Bowers.


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