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Authors: Scott Hildreth,SD Hildreth

DYING TO SURVIVE (Dark Erotica) (6 page)

BOOK: DYING TO SURVIVE (Dark Erotica)
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“Well?” the bartender asked as Ryan lowered the glass from his mouth.

Although more than ten years his senior, the bartender admired Ryan’s character, his manners, and his consistency. Years of bartending had exposed him to all walks of life – a good percentage of which were alcoholics. Ryan’s one drink a night pattern was something the bartender wished that more people could adhere to. As Ryan smiled, the bartender waited for his response.

“Aaaahhh. To describe this as calming would be a grotesque understatement. One drink is equal to two weeks of vacation,” Ryan said as he placed the glass of scotch on the bar.

“I admire your taste, Ryan. Shit, you could drink whatever you wanted wherever you wanted to. Hell, you come in here to my little shit-hole and drink. Been coming in here for a little bit, too. New watch?” the bartender said as he admired the watch Ryan was wearing.

Ryan smiled a prideful smile and raised his left hand from the bar, extending it slowly under the watchful eye of the bartender. Since his denial of the position as a Criminal Psychologist he had been extremely fortunate with a few post sub-prime lending financial decisions, netting him hundreds of thousands of dollars profit. This earned profit was reinvested into stocks and other investments that performed equally as well. Ryan knew that his compulsive personality and intelligence made him a natural investor.

“As a matter of fact it is. Do you like it?” Ryan asked as he turned his wrist toward the light that dangled over the bar.

“Do I like it? Shit, you know I
love
watches. You have a weakness for money, I have a weakness for watches. That damn thing is gorgeous. Patek Philippe, huh?” Pete asked as he admired the watch.

“Good eye, Pete. Yes it’s a Patek. I got this one last week. Today is the first day I’ve worn it. I purchased it twenty-three days ago,” Ryan stated, recalling the day that he abducted Elena.

“Don’t struggle,” he had told her as she began to kick her legs.

She continued to kick and attempt to free herself from his grasp. He shifted his right forearm in front of her neck, gripped his left wrist, and rolled his shoulder into the base of her skull, forcing her neck into his forearm. The process took less than five seconds, and she was unconscious.

He placed her limp body into the trunk, frustrated that she didn’t listen. Things could have been so simple, but she chose to fight. The other girls all complied, but Elena was a fighter.

When he removed the handcuffs, she attempted to flee, requiring him to use the Tazer to subdue her. As he had placed her into the room, he imagined she would be the last of the four victims to forfeit her life. Shellie, by his calculations, would be first.

Dana should be second, as she would be persuaded by the two stronger women – Elena and Meghan. Determining which of the remaining two would be next was a more difficult decision. Elena was more of a fighter, but Meghan had determination. As he lifted his scotch to his lips, he thought of what they may be discussing.

For a person to willfully give up living would be difficult if not close to impossible. Naturally, a person will try to survive under any or all circumstances – it is human nature. People with extremely low self-esteem, however, can be persuaded by a much stronger person to do what would normally be out of range for them to do – if left to their own devices.

He had no doubts, based on Shellie’s test results, that she would be the first. By his best means of understanding, Dana would be second. After the first two were gone, the remaining two participants would certainly provide the most rewarding of revelations.

“So, you say you don’t know if you did good or bad today?” Pete asked as he wiped the water spots from one of the beer glasses.

Pete’s voice brought Ryan from his deep thoughtful state. The aroma from the scotch widened his eyes. He blinked and looked up at the bartender.

“I’m just not certain yet, Pete. I suspect tomorrow will be the beginning of some very rewarding days,” he nodded his head and finished the scotch in his glass.

“Got something big in the works?” Pete asked as he placed the now spotless beer glass on the shelf behind him.

“Huge,” Ryan responded as he stood.

“Fuck yes. That’s what I’m talking about. Self-made millionaire in no time, I know you will,” Pete smiled as he turned around to face Ryan.

“Leaving, bud?” Pete asked as he placed his bar towel in the front of his apron.

“Tomorrow’s going to be a big day, I need my sleep,” Ryan smiled as he removed a fifty dollar bill and placed it under his empty scotch glass.

“Change?” Pete asked politely as he looked at the bill under the glass, already knowing the answer.

“You know better, but thanks for asking. I’m certain I’ll see you tomorrow. Be well, Pete.”

“Tomorrow,” Pete waved as Ryan began walking toward the door.

As Ryan stepped to the door, he drew a deep slow breath, filling his lungs with stale aroma of the bar. The smell of the bar reminded him of his mother’s basement. The smell of his mother’s basement reminded him of his father. The thought of his father provided him all of the fuel, desire, and determination he needed to succeed.

He took another deep breath, exhaled, and opened the door.

 

 

 

CHAPTER SIX

I’LL DIE FIRST.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SIX.
“Holy fuck. Holy fucking fuck,” Elena turned, faced the bathroom door and pressed her palms into her thighs.

“I’m going to throw up,” Shellie said as she flopped onto the seat opposite the bathroom wall.

Dana sat on the bench beside where Meghan was standing and began to cry.

“Throw up then you raggedy assed bitch. I can tell you one fucking thing - I am not going to be that person.
Fuck that.
I am
not
going to be that person, so don’t even ask. Anybody asks me, I’ll choke you to death in your sleep,” Elena barked toward the wall.

Filled with emotion, Elena’s breathing became labored. As she felt a lump rise in her throat, she attempted to swallow. After two failed attempts at swallowing, the bile began to rise in her throat again. As she took the two steps toward the refrigerator, she attempted to recall exactly what Ryan had said.

Tomorrow at precisely zero eight hundred hours one of you is going to die.

I will require that someone forfeit their life, willfully. This will allow the remaining women to live. If, when I return at zero eight hundred hours, no one is willing to forfeit their life, I will kill everyone in the room immediately.

Discuss this amongst yourselves and reach a decision.

The dark stain on the floor beneath the epoxy coating is an indication of what I am willing to do.

Sleep well.

Elena took a drink of her water and looked at the floor. A large stain underneath the grey enamel coating was almost as large as the room itself. In the three weeks that she had been in the room, she had not noticed the stain. Now that it had been brought to her attention, she couldn’t bring herself to stop looking at it.

“Elena, you can’t say that,” Meghan said softly.

“I just did. And I’ll say it again. Go ahead, one of you fuckers ask me, go ahead,” she tipped the bottle of water to her lips and choked down another drink.

“That’s what I thought,” Elena added. As she spoke, her stomach heaved, and the water rose in her throat.

Quickly, Elena turned, ran to the bathroom and leaned over the toilet. As soon as her head was over the stool, she began to vomit. As she vomited, she began to cry. The sounds of Dana and Elena crying filled the room. As she hovered over the toilet, she thought of her daughter. She would be the first of Elena’s family to graduate high school. The graduation, if Elena’s perception of time was correct, should be in two weeks.

Satisfied that she was done vomiting, Elena slowly stood and walked to the sink. She rinsed her face and hands in the sink and looked up into the mirror. As she turned back toward the room, she shook her head in a combination of wonder and disgust.

“This sick fuck. How are we going to do this?” Elena asked as she walked into the room.

“Draw straws?” Dana sobbed as she looked up from the bench where she sat, crying.

“We don’t have any straws, and we ain’t drawing straws. It’s one of you three,” Elena hissed.

“You can’t say that Elena. You aren’t
excluded
,” Meghan responded.

“I just said it. He said
voluntarily
. I will never
volunteer
to have this sick piece of shit fuck me, kill me, or whatever he’s gonna do. He’ll probably cut us into little bitty pieces and spread us all over the city,” Elena complained as she began pacing across the floor.

“Okay, fuck it. I’ll just decide. Shellie, it’s you. I hate you anyway. All you do is pace across the floor and whine. You bring Dana and me down. You’re fucking annoying. It’s you. There, it’s decided,” Elena growled.

“Elena!” Meghan screamed, “You can’t do that. Basically, you’re killing her.”

“I don’t know her. And fuck you too. I don’t know
you
, either. Fuck that bitch, she can either agree to do it, or I’ll just choke her out and toss her at him when he unlocks the door tomorrow,” Elena responded as she walked around the perimeter of the room.

The sound of Dana crying became louder.

Elena’s remarks made Meghan uneasy. To be so willing to take the life of another human being made Elena no more sane or civil than Ryan. For a moment, Meghan pondered death, and what life meant to her. Thoughts of her daughter growing up without a mother began to trouble her. She thought of her sister, and whether or not she would volunteer to raise Amanda.

Meghan wondered the effect not having a paternal parent would have on her daughter as an adult. What effect, if any, her mother being murdered would have on her ability to live a productive life. She wondered how many people would come to her funeral, and if the service would be pleasant. She struggled with the thought of whether or not Mark would come to the service.

“I don’t want to die,” Shellie said.

“I’m not
going
to die,” Elena said in a stern tone.

“How are we going to do this?” Meghan asked openly to the room.

Sitting on the bench, her elbows on her thighs and her face in her hands, Dana’s sobs grew louder.

“I don’t have…” Dana struggled to speak.

“I don’t have a family,” she continued to try to speak as tears ran down her cheeks.

“I don’t have any idea of how long I may live, and both my parents are dead,” Dana began to sob uncontrollably,

“I can’t…do”

“I can’t…”

“I can’t leave him alone,” Dana finished speaking and continued to cry uncontrollably.

“I thought you said you were divorced,” Elena turned and faced Dana with a look of disgust.

“You did, I know you did. You lying bitch you said you were divorced,” Elena shook her head as she looked at Dana.

As tension filled the room the severity of the situation weighed heavily on Meghan’s mind. She realized if she wanted to live, she would need to convince someone else to die. Fifteen minutes prior, the thought of doing so was nothing less than murder. Now, as she stood and watched Elena glare at Dana, the thought of persuading one of the others to die seemed to be nothing more than survival.

Preservation of her daughter’s future.

Saving herself.

Preservation of life.

Meghan looked at Shellie. Emotionless, Shellie sat on the bench and bit her fingernails. Consciously, Meghan decided that she agreed with Elena, Shellie needed to volunteer to die. Meghan would need to determine a way to convince her.

“I fucking hate liars. You lying bitch,” Elena said as she stood over Dana, who continued to sob into her hands as she sat on the bench.

“Elena,” as Meghan whispered, Elena turned to face her. Without speaking, Meghan shook her head and motioned to the floor beside her.

Quietly, Elena approached Meghan. As she stood beside her, Meghan whispered into Elena’s ear.

“We have to convince one of these two to do it,” Meghan whispered.

“What…”

“What are…”

“What are you two talking…”

“About?” Dana looked up from her hands and sobbed.

“We ain’t talking to you, you lying bitch,” Elena barked.

“Don’t be so mean to her,” Meghan whispered, “Let’s be nice and see if we can talk one of them into it.”

Elena nodded and took a sip from the bottle of water. Meghan tapped her on the shoulder, turned, and walked slowly and softly to the bench beside Shellie.

“Let’s talk about this sensibly,” Meghan offered as she sat on the bench beside Shellie.

“You live in Augusta?” Meghan asked Shellie.

Shellie looked up from biting her fingernails and nodded.

“What do you do? For work?” Meghan asked softly.

“I drive a bus. A school bus,” Shellie responded as he nibbled at her nails.

Without expressing emotion, Meghan began to consider how to approach Shellie regarding death. As Meghan thought of what to say, she realized that not one material thing she owned was as valuable as life. It seemed ridiculous of her to even try to reason with coming to terms with death. Nothing was more valuable than life, and there was not one thing anyone could say to her would convince her otherwise.

“So, you’re divorced?” Meghan asked quietly.

Shellie nodded her head slowly and softly.

“What do you make driving a bus? Thirty grand?” Meghan asked.

“Thirty four,” Shellie smiled as she turned to look at Meghan.

Meghan paused and nodded her head slowly. As she looked up at Elena, Elena smiled and slowly walked toward Dana, who continued to sob into her hands.

Elena sat on the bench beside Dana and put her arm over Dana’s shoulder. As she did, Dana looked up. Her eyes swollen, and her face covered in tears, she attempted to speak.

BOOK: DYING TO SURVIVE (Dark Erotica)
9.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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