Captured by a Demon

IV Chapter - Remember, remember

“How are you feeling?” I asked anxiously when the stranger regained consciousness. I had almost missed his eyes being open because of how swollen they were, but the sudden hiss of pain could not be missed.

“Like I was hit over the head with a submarine,” he said in a ragged low voice. To my own surprise, I let out a small laugh and he c****d his eyebrow.

“I am so sorry,” I said feeling very ashamed of myself for laughing when someone was so banged up.

“Don’t be,” the man said, his voice warmer now, “I’m a funny guy and I like to appreciated.” His mouth twitched and I understood that he was trying to smile.

I smiled too, but it faded quickly and I couldn’t believe I had forgotten for a second where I was. I had so many questions and he was a new source of information.

“Is it painful to talk... or can I ask you something?” I spoke with caution in my tone.

The guy sighed, sat up, letting out a small groan and mumbling “f**k, that hurts.” He then looked at me. “What is your name?”

“Rachel.”

“Well, Rachel, if you’re going to ask me, where we are and who that motherf****r of a psychopath is, then I can tell you right – ouch, f**k - now that I haven’t the slightest of clues. I would want nothing less than to beat him to a pulp and slice him open until he’s crawling in front of my feet like the vermin he is, but I’m afraid my attempts so far have rendered me temporarily unable to raise the metaphorical sword if you know what I mean." He sighed. "I’m gonna call in sick today.”

My mouth had dropped slightly open listening to him speak. I was not used to guys talking like that. Although, I figured he had turned a little bit crazy from all the beating up and stuff, I could not help but feel amused again. I couldn't help but admire his light tone and ability to joke in a situation as horrible as this one. I used to be like this, I used to joke around, be sarcastic and sassy, but now I couldn't imagine continuing like that. 

But he did. He could. So bizarre. His warm tone of voice, light chuckles, though currently very hoarse, made me feel somewhat calm and distracted. In a good way.

“Colourful,” I commented. “What does he usually ask you?”

The man shrugged. “Random stuff. About my childhood, family and such. I think it’s some sort of an experiment or something. He was constantly trying to get into my head, not like it could ever work. But I guess, he managed to bruise my ego by letting his men beat me up. I’m not used to losing... nor my saliva drying up from spitting so much...”

“You spat on him?” I couldn’t believe it, but the man nodded with a slight smirk on his face, followed quickly by a loud “f**k” when he winced in pain.

“Could you get me some water, Rachel?” he asked. “It’s like there’s a f***ing desert in my throat.”

I did not know why, but everything he said, seemed to be the most entertaining thing ever and I was almost embarrassed by the small smile that wouldn’t leave my lips as I handed him a glass of cold water.

He drank the whole thing, asked for a second glass and finished that as well.

“Just in case you ever have to write on my tombstone,” he said with a lighter voice, “then my name is...”

I don’t know why, but after he mentioned the possibility of writing something, the possibility of something as mundane as people, whose vanity requires them to figure out the deepest, most idealistic bulls**t quotes about themselves before death, I suddenly started laughing and felt this warmth in my heart that I had long thought to be forever lost. He was surprised by my outburst, but laughed too, then cursed due to the pain it caused him, and then laughed at his cursing and on and on it went. We laughed and the more we laughed the funnier it got, because it made no sense to laugh in this situation. It was funny, because it was so fundamentally nonsensical. We were captured, helpless and lost to the world. But instinctively, we were embracing that fleeting moment of peace, quiet and companionship.

And that is how I met the beakon of light in the never-ending darkness. That is how I met Sebastian.

...

The party was on fire.

Ella had rented a big venue for Simon and he looked so happy dancing and talking with his friends. Looking at him, you'd never guess he was bed-ridden and unable to stand just ten months ago.

"Disc golf discs, so cool - thanks, Rach!" Simon said with a wide smile after opening the present Rachel had got him. "And the climbing equipment is great, Fiona, I was planning to go climbing during the summer.

"Oh, don't thank me, thank Bash, this was his. You couldn't find any sporting equipment in my home to save your life. But Bash here bought himself brand new equipment, so this should do to get you started," Fiona said exposing all of her white teeth and throwing her hair. "Bash is such an accomplished climber, I'm sure he'll wear out his new stuff in a couple of months and then we can come bearing gifts again, right honey?" he batted her eyelashes questioningly at her boyfriend. He shrugged.

 "Sometimes the wear of the equipment is what differentiates a pro from a wannabe," he said so silently that only Rachel caught it. She wasn't even sure, what he meant by it. But he noticed Rachel reacting to his remark as he moved his eyes to her.

"Do you play disc golf often?"

"Umm," Rachel was surprised at his direct tone, "I have never played. These are my brother's."

"And why didn't he come to the party?" he asked again quietly deepening his gaze, so that Rachel was starting to feel slightly awkward. Why did he care? Bash, was it? And why was he staring her like that... like trying to convey a hidden message or something? Nobody else seemed to find his questions weird, so Rachel just figured, that she was overthinking the whole thing.

"He is, umm, he is out of town," she said while patting herself on the pack, because she didn't technically lie. His brother was held in a prison way down south.

"Now, let's go dancing," squealed Fiona and pulled Bash, who was still staring at Rachel, with her to the dance floor. 

"I am all for it," said Simon with the happiest smile, kissed Ella right on the lips and pulled her to the dance floor. Ella looked flushed, but laughed loudly at Simon's weird dance moves, which she then tried to mimic. Rachel smiled looking at her best friend so happy. She then went to get a drink with Margaret. Henry was long gone and Rachel thought she saw him with Ally when they sneaked out to the balcony. She peeked at Margaret, who was cool and collected as usual, but decided not to interfere. 

After some time, a wasted guy came near them and started putting his moves on Rachel.

"Hey, gorgeous, wanna come and dance?"

"No, thank you, I want to chat with my friend."

The guy didn't seem too happy about the rejection. "Oh, come on, that pretty red-lipped mouth of yours is practically begging to be played with. I'll show you a good time, I promise, I won't bite." He threw Rachel's drink in the garbage and moved closer.

"It is not the biting I'm concerned with," said Rachel, trying to contain her tone, "it is my pretty red-lipped mouth that insists on not getting herpes." 

Margaret almost spit out her drink laughing.

"You..." the guy started to come at Rachel, clearly angry, when someone spilled their drink all over his jeans. "What the f**k?" he swore, his face red.

"Sorry, dude," Bash said casually setting down his empty cup, "I tripped." Margaret laughed louder and gave an approving nod to Bash before leaving to find Ally as she held her stomach from laughing so hard. I guess, her drinks should be switched to water now, Rachel thought. Bash stood there looking mighty fine with his ripped black jeans and dark blue jacket. He took her in, gazing her from head to toe, his eyes darkening with every passing second.

Bash took a cup and filled it, giving it to Rachel, who simply watched him in silence. Then he took another cup and asked Rachel to fill it with water. She complied with his request and gave him a cup of water. He drank it all and gave it to Rachel again. "I'm still thirsty," he said when Rachel looked at him with wide eyes. Rachel filled the cup a second time. He took the cup, looked at Rachel as if waiting for something, but as Rachel stayed silent,  he finished the second water as well, crushing the cup in his hands and throwing it to the trash bin before turning his back on her and walking away. Very environmental of him, thought Rachel sarcastically, but remembered seeing hurt in his eyes. Could it be? Did she remember it right?

Remember, remember...

She stood there, her eyebrows furrowed. For some reason, she was dead set on remembering something, but she didn't know what it was. Frustrated with her own memory, she turned to go to Margaret, when she heard it.

A loud throaty chuckle that spread warmth all through her body.

And that is when Rachel turned around like a zombie, hearing the sound of life, and started to walk towards the dark-haired man by the window. Reaching him, she grabbed his jacket and hugged him tightly. His hands were slightly shaking when he put them around her waist as he hugged her back. His body seemed to recover from the initial shock of the hug as his shoulders started to relax in her arms.

"You finally recognised me," he whispered into Rachel's hair and the familiar warmth of his voice made her feel more drunk than any drink would be able to accomplish.

For a moment,  they were back in that little cell. There was no one else. Just Rachel and him.  

"Sebastian," she breathed.