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A fourth person, bigger than the boys, enters the room wearing a crisp black business suit. His mask differs from the others. There are no x’s covering the eyes. Instead, a big white x cuts across the whole mask.
The man stands there with his hands casually shoved into his pockets. He glances from my daughter, lying on the floor, to my son, who’s lying there motionless. The few whimpers slipping past his lips in his unconscious state are the only indication that he is still alive.
The man approaches, and I freeze in my seat. My eyes are nearly swollen shut and my whimpers are scratchy from crying so much and screaming so hard.
He walks behind me and puts his mouth at my ear. I shiver in revulsion. He lifts the mask and sinks his teeth so hard into my neck that he pierces the skin and blood trickles out. The scar from that bite stings. The little I can see of the guy’s face is blurred since I never actually saw him.
“Seems like my boys had a little too much fun.” I tremble as the voice and hot breath slides over my ear. Even though the words are said to the past me, the present me still hears them loud and clear, like he’s behind me right now. “Looks like they’ve still got a little fight left in them though.”
As if hearing his words, both of my kids stir, the pain in their bodies bringing them back to consciousness.
I begin to struggle against the ropes, not registering the blood dripping from my wrists from the ropes digging into my flesh. I cry behind the tape, my pleas muffled and unrecognizable.
A dark chuckle fills my head. Fingers wrap around my throat, squeezing so hard my vision becomes blurry. “I typically don’t go for ones so young.” I whimper when he runs his tongue up the column of my neck, hitting the wounds from his teeth, making them sting. “But they do look incredibly tempting."
Behind the tape, I let out a cry, horror thrashing through my body as I struggle against my bonds. My eyes fall on my two precious children, already used and beaten so severely that they’re barely recognizable.
“But don’t worry your cute little head, my dear Caterina.” He says my full name like he knows me. “I like my toys to fight back and those two brats don’t have enough left in them.”
His hot breath leaves me, and after slipping the mask back in place, he comes around to the front of me. I don’t have to see his face to know he’s smiling a nasty and cruel smile. It’s in his eyes. The twisted pleasure of what he’s doing. I’ve never seen someone look so sinister and depraved.
“I’m feeling generous tonight and giving you a choice.”
He walks to Eliana, grabbing her by the hair and yanking her to her feet. She’s so weak she can barely stand on her own. She fights as hard as her body will allow, but it’s no match for his strength. While he drags my poor beautiful daughter across the floor, I scream behind the tape. Nausea rises again when he stops with her facing me only a few feet away.
He grabs a fistful of her long, dark brown hair, then yanks her head back so I can see her battered face. “Your beautiful daughter.” He shoves her head forward and she slumps to the floor. Another muffled cry leaves me.
My chest caves in on itself, and I worry I may choke to death because I can’t take in enough air. My hands, bound by rope, are numb and my arms are sore and weak from pulling at the joints. But I still try. I try so hard to pull my hands free that I have no doubt the strands of the rope are sawing against bone and tendons.
The man walks to Ryder, grabs him by the arm, and carelessly drags him over to Eliana. My poor, sweet daughter, after having suffered so much, senses her little brother beside her and tries to wrap her arm around him. But she’s so weak she can’t even lift her arm. Instead, she scoots closer to him.
“Your innocent little boy,” the man says, standing just beyond my children. “You get to choose which one lives and which one dies.”
I can’t comprehend what he’s saying because the idea of it is so abhorrent. It’s impossible. How can a mother, or any parent, make a choice like that? How can anyone choose one child’s life over the other?
The answer comes immediately, and it’s simple. I can’t.
There’s no way I can force myself to respond to this man, so I don’t even consider what to say.
So, I sit there and die inside. Life drains out of me, seeping through my eyes as my tears flow. Flowing from my pores to the blood-stained floors. My soul withers and crumbles to dust, never to be revived again. My heart stutters, still beating, but sluggish. I know down to the very depths of me, if by some miracle Hunter’s and my children survive this, they truly wouldn’t survive. No person could. Even if their bodies healed, their minds never would.
His henchmen stand off to the edges of the room, silent and unmoving the entire time.
“What’s it to be?” the man asks, his voice too casual for the situation, like he’s asking me what I want for dinner, not what child I want to live and which one dies. He walks to me and rips the tape from my mouth. Skin comes off with it, leaving my lips stinging. “The boy or the girl?”
I shake my head, tears and snot slinging from my face.
His hands slide into the pockets of his slacks as he rocks back on his heels. “One dies, and one lives, Caterina. You’re powerless in everything but this. Make your choice, or I’ll make it for you, and I promise you’ll live to regret it.”
“Why?” I croak, barely getting the words out through my dry and swollen throat.
Behind the mask, his eyes light once again with sinister delight. “Because I can. Because I get immense fucking pleasure from it.” His eyes narrow. “My patience is running thin. Your answer, now.”
“I c-can’t,” I say, shaking my head again. “How c-can you,” I hiccup on a sob, “expect me to make a decision like that? P-please, just let my babies go. Do w-whatever you want to m-me.”
“That’s not how this works. You see,” he grips my jaw between two harsh fingers, shoving my chin up as he steps closer until he’s standing between my tied legs and looming over me, “I want to witness the pain on your face as you give me a name. I want to watch your expression as I drain the life of something you love.” His fingers squeeze painfully. “To see a part of you die along with them.”
A great sob shutters my body. “P-please,” I beg again. “I’ll do anything you w-want.”
