Dwelling by Pandora Knight - Burnett's English



Dwelling by Pandora Knight

Locked in the damp church basement, almost blinded from the darkness, all she could see was a sliver of light from the door above her. She had been here for so long there was no difference between weeks and months. Sometimes she heard the doorknob jiggle but it never opened. Once someone knocked on the door. She cried out, but no one answered. She screamed often begging to be found. The darkness surrounded her, making her feel vulnerable to the beast that hid within it. She was alone, yet she felt things scurry around her. Occasionally something furry brushed up against her leg making her aware of its presence. She tried not to focus on them, instead she thought about other times-- the times that she could once stand up without chains cutting into the soft flesh of her legs. She did not know how she came to be in this housing of regurgitated past. One beautiful moment she walked along the shores of bliss with the world at her fingertips. Then she awoke to find herself in a never-ending shadow with a glimpse of light that hid in the corners of darkness. They said she was a sinner-- a disgrace to God. She often wondered how that could be since he created her.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to block out the sounds of unknown creatures feasting on the remains of the rotted meat that they threw at her while she slept. These organisms infested what life she had left, and she often wondered if they were feasting on more than just her dinner. She lay upon the wooden floor letting a few tears slip from her eyes. Once she thought she was strong enough to be able to survive and wait for a savior. Unfortunately, she realized she had no other choice but to wait, and her only savior would be the cold grasp of death's hand. That was her intended torture. They would never let her die. She sat back up, closed her eyes and tried to shake off the heaviness that surrounded her mind. She heard noise from above. She opened her eyes and looked towards the door. She saw movements in the light. She heard banging on the door.

"I’m in here," she cried out, shocking herself with the loudness of her voice. "Somebody please help me."

Everything became quiet suddenly. She laid her head against her knees feeling the emptiness that broken hope left behind.

The door began convulsing harshly. She started crying. Could someone possibly hear her?

"Please, help me," She pleaded louder choking on her cries.

The door swung open banging harshly against the wall. The fluorescent light instantly raped the room. She squinted her eyes, forcing them to adjust to the light. Trying to ignore the pain of the light, she looked up. Although her vision was slightly blurred she could still make out the image of a tall man in a tee shirt and jeans. She looked down, squinting, unable to take in the light completely. She watched his black boots move as he came closer. His shadow fell over her eyes in a shield as he inspected her.

**********************

As far as he was concerned the place was no more than a cult attraction. Full of freaks and loonies preaching about the monsters and sinners the devil has made. Sean had never thought more of them than a few people who were cheated out of a future by the Psychic Friends Network-- that is until he heard the screams. They had been going on for almost a year now, hollow unforgiving cries of a woman. He walked by their "church" every night on his way to work at the local food mart. The first time he heard the screams he thought it was just one of their freakish rituals. Night by night the screams increased along with his guilt.

He had lived in Nicklesville for a year. Sean never spoke to anyone unless it was necessary. He kept a low profile working nights as a stockman at the Food Mart and stayed indoors as much as possible during the day. It was a small town and he just wanted to be a vague rumor among the children, someone they told stories about at camp-outs and Halloween. So far it had been fine, but now this woman had forced her way into his miserable existence sucking the last of his life from him, never stopping until she had him crying as loud as her.

Her cries became weaker and he wondered if the woman was dying. His life became haunted with her imaginary presence. He would wake up in the middle of the night in cold sweats with no memory, only emotions of a preexisting nightmare. He would lay in the fetal position, staring at the floor in a trance and cry himself to sleep. He tried to tell the police, but they just told him he was exaggerating, and that if he knew what was good for him, he would mind his own business.

They didn’t know that was his problem. All he ever did was mind his own business and that is why the little girl died in Forney. He saw her murder but feared for his own life too much to intervene. Two years later he is still the only surviving soul to know what happened that Sunday morning. The way the stranger tore the doll from her little hands and then suffocated her to stop her screams. Sean had tried to help her back to life, but no one ever knew that but him. So he came here with his bottle of pills and Jack Daniels to forget, but now a new victim has entered his life. Was this a chance to even out the death in his mind or was he really just the butt of God’s joke?

Shortly after his small attempt at heroism with the officer, he began hearing the screams again. He tried to walk a different way to work, but he still felt the agony of her cries churning in his stomach. His only hope of freedom from the knowledge of her was to talk to someone at the organization. The thought was terrifying. What if they took him too? Maybe they would try to force him to their beliefs and then he would feel what she suffered.

**********************

The church sat on the half acre of freshly cut grass peacefully surrounded by blooming magnolia trees. The one story circular building was covered in a layer of vine roses interrupted only for the canopied walkway. Although the building created a serene image, Sean still felt the terror of the cries that rang from it at night. He forced himself closer to the entrance, anticipating the explosion of his heart with each beat. He crossed the street and stepped onto the concrete walkway admiring the lush dark green grass. Its perfection gave it a plastic look, but the aroma of a freshly cut lawn told him different. His nerves held him on the brink of insanity. He wanted to roll on the grass flattening it with his body. He imagined feeling the moisture cling to the back of his white cotton tee shirt. A motorcycle roared past him disturbing his daydream. He was quickly reminded of his purpose and dolefully approached the entrance. He knocked on the solid oak door lightly, hoping no one would answer. The canopy shaded the entrance making him feel a slight chill, despite the sweat that had broken out over his body. The door opened swiftly sending Sean into brief shock.

"I’m sorry my dear sir, I didn’t mean to frighten you," an old man spoke from behind the door. "May I help you?"

Sean stared at the small wrinkly man for a moment. He looked like a baby bird; no feathers only thin skin that was stretched over a small frame with just barely enough room to wrinkle up. His small eyes were such a light blue that he looked blind. Sean mechanically answered the withered being, "I… I was wondering about your organization. I’ve lived here for almost a year now and I’ve yet to meet anyone. I figure that church is as good a place to start as any. If I’m not mistaken this is a church, is it not?"

"Why, yes it is," said the old man softly, "Please do come in." He opened the door welcomingly. "My name is Alexander. I’m one of the ministers here."

Sean stepped in and studied his surroundings attentively. Everything was laid out in an open fashion. All the pews were made out of oak with gold pillow backs and seats. They were arranged in a circle surrounding a raised podium. The walls were painted with angels in white and they floated on the sky blue walls up towards the ceiling to a small circle of multi-colored stained glass window in the middle of the dome. The sun shot through creating a rainbow that fell over the podium in a transparent veil. It seemed a religious experience all in its own, as if the small wooden podium held the sword in the stone.

"We are a church of a sacred order. We follow God and his existence, we believe Christ was his child as each of us are," said Alexander bluntly. His raspy voice reminded Sean of a ninety- year- old who had smoked two packs of cigarettes a day since he was ten.

"So you're Christians?" asked Sean. He searched the walls for a door, or a sectioned off room-- anything that could hide a woman in agony.

"Not quite. See, we do not follow Christ per se. We follow God. We believe that Christ was no more than the rest of us, a child of God following his plan, trying to stop the overtake of Satan. He did what we all should be doing, but the rest of us, are not considered a savior or a saint by any means this day in time." The words fell with remorse from his small dry lips.

"Oh," Sean said, watching the old man look up towards the dome. "So what is the name of your order?" The old man let out a little laugh and looked Sean in the eyes, "We do not carry a name, my dear sir, but if you feel the need for a label I guess we would be Godidians. I’m sure the name explains itself," he said with a half-smile.

"Yeah," Sean nervously chuckled. He could think of nothing more to say; he was sure sweat had soaked through his shirt. He felt his legs tremble, the fear intensified the more he realized it.

"Are you all right? You look a little faint?" Alexander reached out touching Sean’s shoulder with his frail hand.

Sean felt like he was going to throw up. He had to get out of there. "No, I’m fine, just a little tired.

Perhaps I should go. Thank you for your time." He walked quickly towards the door without another glance at the strange birdman.

"If you have any other questions, we have a weekly gathering for newcomers on Wednesday nights at the Town Center. Please feel welcome to come," Sean heard Alexander yell. Wednesday night, that’s tomorrow, Sean thought. No one would be at the church if they were at the Town Center. Sean saw his chance to end all of this.

**********************

He walked slowly down the cracked sidewalk feeling the weight of the backpack bounce off his shoulders. Sean packed a hammer, a can of mace and a wrench. He didn’t have a gun and wouldn’t even be sure how to use it if he did. In fact he wasn’t even sure what he was doing. Half of him believed he was ending a two-year guilt complex and the other half of him believed he had finally lost it. Sometimes he wondered if the woman’s screams were even real. He was only a block away from the church now and he could feel the tension throughout his body.

Sean stopped and looked straight up at the sky. The clouds looked like red hills separated by a moon with rainbow rings. He could smell the scent of a spring night, of flowers resting their scent in the air. He closed his eyes and let the fragrance sink into his mind. He saw a field of daisies and dandelions. There was a little blonde girl making a crown of daises for her doll. She picked up a dandelion and blew the flower, letting its seeds fly away like tiny parachutes. He wondered what she wished for-- perhaps a pony. Like a shark’s attack, he saw a large hand grab the little girl by the arm letting her feet dangle in the air. No, don’t hurt her; she’s just a child, just a baby. He watched in shock as the large man threw the girl to the ground. She screamed and his massive dirty hand covered her mouth, muffling her terror. He ripped the doll from her; Sean watched it fly across the field losing its crown.

"NO!" he screamed banging his knees against the concrete. His body trembled violently shaking off drops of sweat. "I didn’t mean to let you die. I didn’t..." he sobbed into his pale hands. A green truck full of teenage boys drove by mocking him "Aw, look, poor baby fell and his momma’s not around. Stupid idiot!"

Sean looked up remembering where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. He stood up and ran so fast that the world became a blur around him. He could think of nothing more than to save the woman. Then he would be free from his misery, it would all be over. No more nightmares, no more guilt.

Within minutes of the building he heard her cries. He rushed to the entrance opening the door with a burst. Everything was dark except for a few candles placed sporadically around the room. He heard her moans from somewhere within.

"Hello? . . . . Where are you?" he yelled. He heard her scream back and tried to follow the path of her voice.

It came from behind the wall. He pressed his ear up to the wall and walked around the interior of the building calling out to her, listening for her cries. He stepped back and looked at the wall. There was a painted angel pointing to a piece of metal that had been lodged into the wall. He began banging on the wall screaming "Are you in there?" He felt a strong hand on his shoulder.

"No, I’m right here," came a masculine voice from behind him.

The overhead lights turned on and Sean’s body froze. He turned around and came face to face with a man in a white robe. His hood concealed his face and all that was visible was his lips above a gray bearded chin.

"What you are doing here?" he asked.

"I came to save her," Sean said, looking around for more people, feeling her screams pierce his heart.

"She cannot be saved. She is of the sinners and has been for many years. Please be along your way," he said forcefully.

Sean took a deep breath. "Okay just let me get my things," he said, turning around reaching into his backpack.

Sean pulled out the hammer and in one blow plowed it into the hooded head. The man let out a scream of pain and disbelief. Blood spurted out of the hood splashing crimson onto his white robe. The man fell to the ground, fist clutching the handle that was buried in his head. Sean jumped on the hammer digging it deeper into the skull feeling the bone crunch beneath his boots. Sean watched horrified at his own actions as the robed body convulsed and then went limp. Watching the man’s body die, Sean envisioned the stranger’s soul being set free.

Sean turned around with tears in his eyes and grabbed the metal piece. With the lights on he could now see the hinges in the wall. He threw his body repeatedly against the hidden door till it burst open.

**********************

Her time-eaten dress lay above her small knees as she sat cross-legged, hands in lap. Her wrist and ankles were chained to the floor leaving little freedom to move. Her long black hair framed her small face, falling over her shoulders in tangles. Her fair skin showed little beauty through the thin layer of grime that covered her. Her fearful eyes sat large in her skull, sunken in from starvation. The eyes held age, but her face seemed young.

"I’m not going to hurt you,” he said gently; "I just want to help you. My name is Sean."

She sat there in silence allowing him to survey her. She had not seen another being since she was put here. The closer he came to her, the more sense he made to her eyes.

He was thin and had an aura of weakness about him. His hair was cut short, close to his scalp. It was a deep brown color that matched his button eyes. He had a long nose that sloped down into a small hook. When he breathed, the edges of his nostrils peaked out from underneath the hook. He had small thin lips outlined by a strong jaw line that sat on a thick neck. His heavy eyebrows creased as he twitched his nose, showing his nostrils again. He gave her a closed-mouth smile, uneasy of her staring.

"Let’s get you out of here," he said as he reached for a key that hung on the wall high above her.

He slowly bent down over her and unlocked the chains that bound her legs and arms. She heard the metal crash against itself as it fell on the splintered floor. She still said nothing and continued observing this man about her. She could see his arms were thin but muscular and covered lightly in dark black hairs down to his wrist and faintly on the knuckles of his carpenter-like hands. He stood up and grabbed her hand, lifting her up to her feet quickly. She screamed as the pain shot through her legs in sharp currents. She buckled herself up and fell to the ground in a ball. She held her bent legs sobbing in a low moan smelling the rot of the wood beneath her. He bent down and wrapped his arms under hers and pulled her up again. She screamed even louder and tried to fall again. He continued to hold her up forcing blood flow to her legs.

"I know it hurts, but if you stand up it will go away-- I promise," he said with a hint of authority in his voice.

She slowly straightened out her legs and stood up with her knees bent. When he felt some of her strength regain, he let her go. The light tingle of pain stayed behind her knees and there was tightness in her calves, but it was nothing compared to the pain of before. He looped his arm with hers and walked her towards the door. As he began to go up the small steps, she stopped walking, giving him a light jolt.

"What’s wrong?" he asked.

"I cannot leave yet," her voice comforted her with familiarity from a past that she once thought lost.

He was surprised to hear her speak. Her voice was soft and melodic. He felt the guilt leaving him. Sean felt he was even now; one life for another.

"It’s okay now. The people that put you here are gone. They can’t hurt you anymore, but we have to leave quickly," he said, trying to reassure her.

"I cannot leave yet," she said again, a little startled from the neediness in her voice. She pressed herself up against him wrapping her arms around his neck. She whispered softly in his ear "Thank you," lying her head on his shoulder nuzzling him, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand up.

"There’s plenty of time for that later," Sean said nervously. "Right now we really have to --" he choked on the last word as she slowly sank her teeth into the thick skin of his neck. He fell to the floor in a crumpled heap as she drained him of his life. She lifted her teeth out of his neck, giving the two small holes a quick flick of the tongue. She stood up slowly, letting the blood rush to her stomach and walked to the door. She turned around to look at the dwelling where the church people had kept her for so long, starving her of any strength and life. She looked at the limp body of her hero as he lay near the chains that once held her. She took a deep breath and watched him whimper weakly as something furry ran across his leg.

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