The Human, the Witch and the Were

Kayla smiled to herself as she heard her mother laugh at one of her father's stupid jokes. Beccy's silvery laugh joined in when she finally got the gist of it. It was the perfect Sunday afternoon. Mama was sitting on the couch knitting some baby booties for the new baby on the way, Papa was reading the paper and Beccy was colouring in with all the intent that a seven-year-old can colour with. The smell of the Sunday roast was wafting through the house, making everyone look forward to dinner. No doubt Mama had an apple pie stashed away somewhere too. Apple pie was always the family's favourite dessert, topped with custard and cream. Sunday afternoons were always one of Kayla's favourite times. It was a time when the family came together with no interruptions or play dates. They all made sure they kept that time free. Kayla believed that family time was very important. She felt that the problem with society today is families were too disassociated from one another and there was no communication. Her friends used to laugh at her for wanting to spend time with her family because, let's face it, how many 20-year-olds choose to spend time with family over friends? She was proud of herself for maintaining those family ties because if you can't depend on your family to love you and care for you, who can you depend on? She was very close to her Mama and Papa and couldn't imagine life without them or her little sister. And now, there was a new baby on the way. Granted it was a bit of shock with Mama being 44 and Papa 45, but they had embraced it in typical Bishop fashion. With open arms and bucket loads of excitement. There was no point worrying about something until there was something to worry about. Papa was very excited to finally have a boy in the family. There was no doubt he loved his daughters but there was also no doubt that he felt somewhat outnumbered given the male: female ratio of the household. He said a boy would help even up the odds a bit.   ***   She heard the whip just before it hit. Pay attention woman! If her attention lapsed, she would scream out and Phillip would only hit her harder. She had learnt that after about the 4th or 5th time he'd whipped her. The more she screamed, the longer and harder he would go for. Back in the beginning she used to scream and cry and beg him to stop. He'd whipped her once every two months in his specially designed, soundproof torture room under the compound. He used to get off on her screams and seeing her writhe in agony. But now, she didn't react at all. There was no screaming, crying, or begging. She took it all in silence. And now he seemed to lash her only out of a sense of duty. As though he felt he owed it to her because it was something he started and needed to continue with. She would have laughed if it didn't rack her body with spasms of agony. Like he needed to continue the whippings. They both knew she wasn't going anywhere. He didn't even bother locking the doors anymore. Where would she go? Home? Yeah right. Unwillingly her mind wandered again. *** "Very sorry..." "Complications with the birth..." "Age was a factor..." "Blood loss..." "Lost the baby..." "Did everything we could..." The words filtered through Kayla's head. She tried to block them out, but the memory replayed itself over and over again, just like it always did. Mama's waters had broken during the night, and they had all rushed to the hospital together. However, it hadn't taken long for them to realise that something was very wrong. Everything had started beeping and the doctors had asked Papa to leave the room. Kayla happened to glimpse in through the doors when one of the doctors hurried through and all she could remember thinking was that red was an unusual colour for a birthing suite. The air had whooshed out of her lungs the instant she realised that it wasn't red paint on the walls, it was blood. Mama's blood. It seemed like they sat there forever waiting for the doctors to talk to them and give them some sort of idea what was going on. In reality it was only about 45 minutes before the doctors came to them to tell them the news. None of the words had made sense and it was all so confusing. Oh, she had heard them and understood them, but they couldn't be right. The doctors were trying to tell her that Mama and the baby had passed away during childbirth but that couldn't be. She was sitting in the birthing suite right now holding baby Max. They were all going to go home in a few days, as a family. She couldn't work out where the screaming was coming from. The raw, pain filled screaming that seemed to be endless and all around her. It wasn't until the doctor jabbed her with the needle and the screaming stopped that she realised it had been her. The next week had been a blur. She didn't remember getting home from the hospital. She didn't remember Aunt Sophie and Aunt Grace coming to stay. She didn't remember eating. She didn't remember sleeping. She didn't remember anything until the coffin was lowered into the ground at the funeral. It was at that moment that reality kicked in. Her Mama was gone, and she wasn't coming back.  *** The lash dug in, and Kayla let out a groan of pain before she could stop it. She saw the fire spark in Phillips eyes as he swung the whip around again. Silently she cursed herself. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! She was in for it now. It had been at least two years since she'd had any audible reaction to the whip, and she knew Phillip wasn't going to waste the opportunity. What was with her lately? She could not stay focused and keeping focused was what kept her alive. She gave herself an inward sigh of satisfaction. At least after the whipping Phillip wouldn't come to her for anything else for at least a week. He had learnt that himself the hard way. She certainly couldn't lie on her back without opening wounds and putting blood all over the bed, and he was squeamish about looking at the lash marks on her back if she was on her stomach or hands and knees. It was almost as if he couldn't bear to be reminded of his handiwork. Had to hand it to the man though, he never touched her face. Kayla didn't bother looking at her back or legs anymore. There wasn't an inch of skin that wasn't covered in scars. Phillip insisted that she wear pants and long sleeve shirts to keep them out of sight. It also kept the scars hidden from Mariella, his wife. The stupid cow was under the impression that Kayla was Phillip’s PA. She made herself pay attention to the current situation so as not to give Phillip any more satisfaction than she already had. Phillip seemed possessed as he swung the lash again and again, determined to get some other reaction out of her, but she kept quiet. It was over soon enough. Her silence had frustrated Phillip, but no matter what he tried he couldn't get a response. She knew Phillip was starting to tire of her and she wasn't sure how much longer he was prepared to put up with her before he decided to 'take care' of her. He stared at her for a long time before moving. "Get yourself cleaned up," he snarled. "You're bleeding all over my floor.”    Flashback "Where's the milk?" Kayla's father snarled. "I haven't had a chance to get to the grocery store yet Papa," Kayla said, backing away. "I had to go to work. I'm sorry, I'll go now." "b***h!" He roared as he backhanded her and knocked her flying. "Useless, whinging b***h. You can't do anything right can you?!?" The front door slammed behind him as he stormed off. Kayla felt her face gingerly as she got up off the floor. She bit back the tears that were looming when she heard Beccy come into the kitchen. "Kayla, is Papa mad again? I heard him yelling." "It's OK sweetheart. I forgot to buy the milk. He's just a little mad at me, but he's definitely not mad at you." Kayla tried to smile reassuringly at her little sister. There had been a time when Papa didn't hit anyone. There had even been a time when he didn't yell. In fact, Papa very rarely used to raise his voice. He was the gentle giant. He was the man who always had a big hug and a kind word for his girls. But that had all changed when Mama died. The day Mama died something died inside of Papa too.  ***  Kayla was glad to see it was the werewolves Lachlan and Jake who were taking her back to her room this time. Out of all the guards, they were the two she least despised. They put her back in her room with some attempt at gentleness. The vamps tended to get ideas when they saw the blood running from her wounds and the other Weres got excited at the violence in the room. Carlos gives her an extra boot or two on the way. She lay on her stomach trying to ride out the waves of pain. The physical pain she could deal with, it was the emotional pain that she couldn't ignore. She would have though after four years it would have gotten easier, but she still couldn't deal with her father's betrayal.   ***   The months after Mama’s death were difficult. Papa shut down completely. He didn't eat, sleep, shower or move without being lead or coerced. He didn't get out of bed in the mornings, and he only ate when food was put in front of him. Beccy and Kayla found him on the couch in front of the TV when they got home from school, surrounded by empty beer cans. They'd try to engage him in conversation about their day, but he would just stare at them blankly with dead eyes while smelling of body odour and bad breath. He grew a beard and his hair got long and shaggy. Aunt Grace and Aunt Sophie stayed with them for three weeks, but they had their own lives to get back to. They were worried to leave the girls, but Kayla assured them they'd be fine. She had a part time job at McDonalds, and they would get by. The bills had started piling up, so Kayla took it upon herself to pay them using her parents’ savings account. There was a bit in there, but she knew it wouldn't last forever. Papa was going to have to go back to work soon unless she gave up her studies to work more hours and support them. She could see the withdrawals in the bank account that Papa had been making. He was managing to get himself to the liquor store nearly every day when they weren't at home and the money was slowly but surely disappearing. She got a shock the day she came home about four months after her Mama had died, to find her father alert and moving in the kitchen. It was almost like her old Papa was back again. His face was shaved, his hair was cut and he smelt clean. She moved towards him eagerly, hoping against hope. It was when he turned around that she realised that something wasn't quite right. Her Papa was up and moving and alert but there was a wrongness that she couldn't put her finger on. He had a lopsided grin on his face, his eyes were dilated, and he was moving nervously back and forth, like he found it difficult to stand still. When he saw her he started babbling and couldn't keep a coherent train of thought. Her mind was trying to put it all together when some of what he was saying snagged in her mind. "Guy at liquor store," "Needed a pick me up." "Herbal remedy he said." "Would have me on my feet in a couple of days." "First trial, free of charge." "I feel great." "So much energy." Kayla stared at her Papa in horror as she the pieces clicked into place. Fast, nervous movements, inability to sit still, dilated pupils, babbling. He couldn't be that stupid and naive, could he?? Surely not?  He had a degree in chemistry for God’s sake. Surely, he knew the difference between the effects of an herbal pick me up and methamphetamine?? Was he really that stupid?? Apparently, he was.   ***   She came awake with a start. Someone was in her room, moving towards her. "Hush sweetling," Greta whispered at her. Kayla sighed in relief. Greta was the hearth witch and healer who also 'tended' to her when it was required. She didn't say a whole lot but nothing much passed by her. Kayla hissed as the antiseptic and hot water hit her back. "How are the new girls?" She asked Greta quietly. It wouldn't do to let Phillip know she was asking about the other girls. He would only find a way to try and use it against her. She was privileged enough to have her own room and bathroom with a TV, queen bed and radio behind Phillip’s office in the compound. Occasionally when she was left alone, she could almost pretend she lived a normal life like most other girls her age. That was until she heard the cries of the girls from their cells. She figured she was lucky that Phillip kept her for himself as he didn't like to share her with his men but then, he didn't lash the other girls either so neither were really in a win win situation. "Some are OK, some are not," said Greta. "Some are very young, there is much shock to the system coming into a place like this, as you should know." Kayla sighed. They got a new batch of girls in at least once a month. Some of them coped, but most understandably went into some form of shock and denial. Getting over the initial shock that you had been sold by your family was often hard enough, let alone finding out you'd been sold into prostitution. And only then when they shoved you in a room with the 'client' for the first time. Phillip used to make her watch sometimes. She'd had to listen to the girls screams and watch the girls’ struggle. She'd reacted the first few times, just like with everything else. After a while she stopped reacting...reacting to almost everything. Like the whipping, any reaction only made it worse. "How many came in this time?" "About twenty-five." "Twenty-five!" Kayla yelped when she moved involuntarily and reopened the lashes on her back.  "How come there are so many?" Normally they only brought in eight to ten girls at a time. "Lots more people are becoming addicted to these bad drugs. They stop work or get fired because their mind is fried so no money comes in and they can't pay their bills." Greta shrugged as if it was obvious. "And that makes it OK to sell their children?" Kayla snapped. "Of course not child," Greta sighed. "It is just the way it is." Kayla sighed. She knew Greta was right. The new drug on the streets was more addictive and readily available then anything ever produced before. She should know, Phillip produced it. He called it Twilight. And he was the one who had gotten her Papa hooked. Oh, how she hated the man. She didn't think she had it in her to hate the way she did, but she did. Every night she thought of a different way to make him suffer for what he did to her. And every night she dreamt of running away. But she was too scared. As scared as she was to stay, she was even more scared of what Phillip would do to her if she ran away and he caught her. "Any supes?" Kayla asked. It was extremely unusual for supe girls to be traded for a clean slate as supes tended to have a higher tolerance to the drugs and didn't get addicted. But it happened occasionally. The supernatural girls were much harder to control, thanks to their paranormal strength and instincts. "2 vamps, 1 were and a witch," said Greta. "Though the witch is doing a very good job of hiding herself at the moment." Kayla mulled that over. Four was the most supes they'd ever brought in with a new group. Hell, it was rare to get even one in the mix. Maybe Phillip had made some modifications to the drug that affected supes in a different way. She decided to keep her eyes and ears open. After all, information was power.