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This place just got creepier and creepier. If an eleven-year-old wasn’t afraid to go down there, then I wasn’t going to show him just how afraid I really was.
I must have hesitated for too long, because he tried to push me aside. “Don’t worry, Ariel. I’ve been down there before, like every single day. I’ll go first because obviously you don’t know the way.”
I glared at him. Like hell.
Still… “The way to where, exactly? Just what are we going down there for?”
I was pretty sure I sounded like a pussy. Thankfully Brighton didn’t point it out and rub it in my face.
He pointed a skinny finger down into the darkness. “Our bedrooms are down there. That way we can be out of sight when they get tired or bored of us.” He swallowed visibly. “There are also other things that go on down there, but you don’t want to know about those.”
I regretted having asked.
Before he could offer to go down first again, I bit the bullet and stepped down onto that first wooden step. I kept going down, down, all the way down. At least there were backs to these stairs and they weren’t open. Those were what I liked to call horror movie or nightmare stairs, and nobody liked to walk down them for fear of someone reaching out from behind and grabbing hold of your ankles on the way down.
My bare feet made no noise on the stairs, and I was glad when no sound came from Brighton behind me. I stepped off the last smooth wooden step onto the dirt floor and shivered. It was freezing down here, and I didn’t think it had anything to do with the fact my hair was still a wet mess.
I couldn’t imagine having to sleep down here every night. I’d get sick in no time.
There were torches along the walls, lit with fire, and the only source of light down here as far as I could see.
And they made little boys and teenagers live down here? I thought I’d had it bad while growing up, but this was so much worse, and I hadn’t even seen the rooms yet.
How dreadful.
Crying could be heard coming from the right, down a long, narrow hallway. It sounded like a little boy sobbing. I immediately headed in that direction.
“Ariel,” Brighton said urgently as he tugged on the sleeve of my robe. “I’ve changed my mind. You shouldn’t be down here. You shouldn’t have to see any of this. You’ve gone through enough tonight. I’m sorry, let’s just go back upstairs and wait for your coven members to get here.”
What this brave little boy was so terrified of me seeing, I did not want to know, but we’d come this far, and I had no intentions of turning back now.
“If you want to, you can go wait for them. They are close, but I’m not waiting, and I’m not turning back.”
He was making me nervous all of a sudden, and I almost begged him to go up and wait.
“Shit,” he mumbled dejectedly. “This is bad. Why did I think it was okay to bring you down here? I’m usually not so stupid.”
“Mouth,” I chastised him. There was a bar of soap at home I was going to write his name on, and every time a swear word came out of his mouth, I was going to shove that sucker right in his pie hole.
Parenting like a boss for the win.
And I would be parenting this kid, because he was most definitely coming home with me when I left this place for hopefully the very last time ever. My boys would never leave him behind, and that meant I was going to be playing a motherly role in his life. I might not have wanted to have kids of my own, but that didn’t mean I had any issues taking on other people’s kids.
The first room we came upon had no real door, but there was a dark curtain hung up across the opening. The sobbing was coming from behind the curtain. From this close, the sound tore at my heartstrings. It was so gut wrenching and wretched.
I pushed the curtain aside and stepped into a dimly lit room with dirt walls and a dirt floor. The light came from two tall candlesticks that stood up on the bare floor. A metal, antique bed frame with a twin mattress on it was pushed up against the wall. The bedding had been stripped from it and lay in a heap in the corner.
A very naked boy lay curled up in a ball on top of the bedding. His knees were pulled up to his chest, and his too thin arms were wrapped around his legs. His entire body was covered in dark black and blue bruises, and he was sobbing his little heart out.
I ran over to him, dropped to my knees just outside the pile of bedding, and pushed the hood back from my face.
“Hey,” I murmured softly as I reached out for him but did not touch him. “Are you okay?”
Stupid question. Of course he wasn’t okay. People didn’t cry like that because they were filled with joy.
He whimpered as he flinched away from me. “Don’t touch me.” He hiccupped on the next sob.
I dropped my hands to my sides and crawled backwards on my knees.
