First Visit: Torture Chamber
754 Words
Maxwell awakes to drumbeats and chants. The lean young soldier hovers over him; above the young soldier, on the ceiling, is the eyeless goat.
“Harry, maybe we should do this on the outside.”
“No, Sarah! Father is in the fields.”
“But we need to stick to the magic.”
“I said no! It is bad enough that I am allowing you to use the damn drum. Do you need to be so loud?”
“Yes.”
Even though the responder has said yes, the drumbeats get lower.
“We have to stick to the ritual,” they add.
The speaker moves from the shadows and stands next to Harry? It’s the female soldier that led them to The Inn. Harry and Sarah. Maxwell groans, tries to pull himself up; his head lolls to one side.
“It did not take this long for me,” Sarah says. “We need more drums. We need to do this under the moon.”
“The next full moon is days away,” Harry says. “I do not wish to wait.”
“And what will we do with him until then?”
“Store them together.” Sarah points to Maxwell and to something behind Harry.
“I will not take the chance. I prefer to have it done then explain to father rather than to be found out before.” Harry faces Sarah. “Like you did.”
“You are risking your head either way,” Sarah says. “I had a soul to appease father and he was still irate. In the end, he wanted to achieve what I had more than he wanted to punish me. But he has not forgiven me. This is a risk, brother.”
“You should have given the boy to me,” Harry says.
Sarah laughs. “And deal with the wrath of father? No thank you.”
“We could have left this rotten island.”
Sarah swallows. “He cannot hear you say that.”
“It is not fair, Sarah! He is controlling this like he controls everything else! He is happy and the rest of us have to suffer.” Harry breathes his words into Sarah’s face. “You are happy. What about the rest of your brothers and sisters?”
“We have to be careful. If we do this too frequently, it will start to raise questions. People will stop coming here. The rest of the island will die. All our brothers and sisters will die.”
“What do you care? You can leave?” Harry glares at Sarah. “Oh, stop pretending. You risked evoking father’s rage because you want off this cursed island as much as I do.”
“I have not left, have I?” Sarah is indignant. She slips back into the shadows. “Try again. Before father returns.”
More drumming; more chanting. Harry slaps Maxwell across the face. Whatever is supposed to be happening, isn’t happening. Wait! I didn’t feel that. “Am I dead?” Maxwell’s voice is croaky and low.
“Why is it not working?” Harry’s eyes are red; his skin has whitened.
“More drums,” Sarah says. “I told you, we need more drums. And the moon.”
“The drums do not matter. The moon does not matter. The words matter. You are saying them wrong. You are trying to sabotage this.”
Harry disappears. Sarah screams from the darkness.
“I am not sabotaging this,” she says. “Please! Stop.” She screams again.
“That is the problem with that form, it feels the bad as well as the good.”
“I am trying,” Sarah insists.
“I should use you since I cannot use him.”
Sarah coughs. “You cannot. You do not know the beat or the words.”
“I will get one of the others to do it.”
“They will not help you before they help themselves.” Sarah gasps, coughs.
“We will find a way to distract father and try this again tonight.” Harry runs into the wall, melts into it. He’s also still in the room, sitting in the chair across from Maxwell
I’m seeing things. I must be seeing things. What the hell did they give me?
Harry’s head emerges from the wall. “Keep an eye on both of them.”
The room goes black.
- Writer
