Captive in the Dark (22 page)

Eventually,
Kéleb
grew in years, height, and beauty. Armed with all these, his arrogance and
quick wit were soon to follow. He knew more Arabic than English, though the English boys
helped him retain a rudimentary knowledge. He soon chose his tormentors, pitting them against
one another with the promise of true affection, though he was incapable of giving it. Still a child
in the eyes of many and treated with little more than cruelty he understood only one thing –

survival.

Each night, as he huddled close to his partners in suffering on the dirty floor of the brothel
they were held in he remembered less and less the boy he had been. Worse, he no longer cared.

He was
Dog
. It was all he had ever been. Instinct. Hunger.

He was always hungry. For food, for shelter, for power, for more… constantly more. He
even learned to crave the pain. It meant he was still alive, still surviving. If he could handle the
pain, control his reaction to it, make it work
for
him instead of against him, then he was free.

And more than anything,
Kéleb
was hungry for freedom.

Narweh knew this. Had always somehow known. It was the reason the other girls and boys
were called by alluring names to entice the patrons while he was called
Dog
. It was meant to
demean him, to drag him to a place where he was no longer human. To make him
feel
less than
human. It didn’t work. When Narweh looked into his eyes,
Kéleb
refused to lower them. And one
day Narweh had had enough.

Kéleb
knew he was about to be punished. He knelt on the ground and was unafraid. Narweh
loved to beat him and he no longer struggled against it. He had too much pride for that.

He gritted his teeth when asked to undress. “It’s to be rape then?” he said in perfect Arabic,
“Do your friends know how much you love fucking dogs.”
Kéleb’s
face throbbed with the slap
he received, but he bore it in silence, fists clenched at his sides. He was free, he reminded
himself.

Raising his calm and steady eyes to meet Narweh’s frenzied ones, he removed his
thobe
.

Narweh’s eyes remained venomous, but now lust swirled behind the rage.
Kéleb
nearly smiled.

Yes, he
was
a beautiful animal. Another slap and
Kéleb
forced himself to look away, but not
toward the ground, never that.

There was noise behind him, he wanted to look but would not give the son of a bitch the
satisfaction of piquing his curiosity. It didn’t matter, the mystery was soon revealed. A mirror.

Narweh placed a mirror directly in front of him. In it he saw his bearing waver. This was too
much, he couldn’t possibly watch this. And yet, he refused to stare at the floor.

“What’s the matter?” Narweh taunted, “Don’t you like looking at how beautiful you are?

Vanity; it’s the plague of your entire race. It’s the reason you think you deserve everything when
you deserve nothing, less than nothing. Death is all you deserve.”

Kéleb
strained against every impulse rushing through his body. He willed himself to remain
still, he could handle this. He could handle anything.

Narweh knelt behind him and
Kéleb
ceased to breathe.
Anything but this. Please. Anything.

He closed his eyes. “Shut them and I will make it so you never can again.” For the first time in a
long time,
Kéleb
almost whimpered.

Lifting his
thobe
and spitting into his hand Narweh prepared to enter him and there was not
a thing to be done. It was this or death.
Kéleb
dug deep into the part of him determined to be
free. He took a deep breath and held it as he was entered savagely, refusing to make the slightest
sound. But the mirror…the mirror forced him to see what he tried to pretend wasn’t real. He
wasn’t free. Behind the boy in the glass, Narweh smiled at him.
Kéleb
looked at the ground.

It wasn’t over quickly. Narweh did not simply wish to use him as he had in the past, throwing
him to the ground and rutting against him like a savage beast, punching and slapping him. He
took his time. He wanted
Kéleb
to feel every moment of the urge to fight back and the moment
after it when he realized he couldn’t. A sob finally broke through and he was forced to look up at
the boy in the mirror. He was…broken.

Kéleb
hated the boy, hated his weakness. In a rage he struck out at the mirror shattering it
and tossing it to the ground. He lunged for the shards of broken glass, extricating himself as he
turned on his tormentor. Narweh laughed, loudly.
Kéleb
flew toward him, fingers bleeding as
they gripped the broken mirror.

For all his size,
Kéleb
was still a boy, still lanky and awkward. His strength meant nothing
against Narweh. As he lunged toward him, Narweh planted his foot firmly into his stomach and
tossed him over his head and onto the ground. His vision blurred and his breath left him.

Narweh stood quickly, taking swift advantage. His foot collided repeatedly with
Kéleb
’s ribs,
genitals and chest.
Kéleb
rolled onto his side groping for air and Narweh’s foot. Neither aim
was achieved and he blacked out as the darkness encroached around him.

The next time he opened his eyes it was to expel a silent scream as his skin was split open.

Before he knew what was happening, he was struck again and again. He tried to move his limbs,
to run, to fight, but he was tied down. Wet fire danced along his back and he instantly knew he
would die that night. The whip landed again, another tearing of flesh. This time
Kéleb
managed
to scream.

• • •

A rush unlike any Caleb had ever felt raced through his veins as the sound of angry gun fire and splintering wood erupted.
Rat-tat-tat-tat. Creak. BOOM.
The door was kicked in. Racing footsteps – theirs. Startled yelps and angry shouts – from inside.

Jair was the first one in, his warrior cry stunning their prey even further. By the time Tiny thought to act, he was cracked across the face with the butt of Jair’s weapon. Blood sprayed across the wall behind Tiny as he fell to the ground. First blood, but not the last.

The woman screamed and darted toward the hallway, screaming for someone named Kid.

Caleb rushed in after her. Behind him two of Jair’s cousins were beating the other biker in the living room with Tiny.

The woman was screaming at someone. There were two doors ahead of Caleb. One to the right with a light on, the other directly ahead, door shut. Caleb fired two shots at the door in front of him. The door swung open and Caleb hit the ground.
Shuck-Shuck-Boom!
The shotgun blast rang out in the narrow space of the hallway. “Come get some motherfucker!” the man at the end of the hall yelled.
Shuck-Shuck.

Caleb lifted his head and aimed for the biker’s pelvic area. He wanted to avoid center mass, but he couldn’t risk aiming for the knee and missing. He fired. The biker wailed in agony as the bullet hit. He dropped the cocked shotgun and clutched at his lower abdomen, blood already covered his quaking fingers and shock distorted the man’s features. Behind Caleb, Khalid laughed uproariously as he leapt over Caleb’s splayed legs to cover the second door. Caleb let out a breath. He needed to steel himself for what he might find.

He lifted himself into a crouch and hugged the wall nearest the door. “This can be very simple,” he called out. “Your friends can’t help you.” He paused, letting that sink in. “We just want the girl.”

“Fuck you!” It was the woman who spoke. She was hysterical. Unpredictable. “I’ll kill this fucking bitch, I swear to god I will.” Caleb’s heart tripped all over itself.
She’s alive.

“Make her say something!” Caleb shouted back. Heavy breathing, resistance. Panicked squeals.

“I-I,” a male voice now, faltering, “I think she’s in shock or something. Look man, we didn’t have anything to do with it. I swear.” The man’s voice cracked with panic as he spoke. “Just…

go and we’ll leave her here for you.”

Caleb looked at Khalid. He was poised to strike, anticipating the kill. Any second now, this could get complicated and it wouldn’t matter to Khalid if the girl was dead or alive. It only mattered to Caleb. In fact, for Jair, dead would be better. Rafiq would blame Caleb and Jair and his cousins would savor the ensuing confrontation.

Caleb thought quickly what his options were. What were the chances the two were armed?

The door at the end of the hall was a bedroom and the house wasn’t very big at all. Who carried a weapon into the bathroom? Caleb took decisive action.

Everything moved in slow motion. Khalid’s footsteps as he went for the shotgun lying next to the bleeding biker. The curdled scream of the blonde as Caleb’s weapon rounded the corner of the door. The young man’s panicked yell as he clutched a bloody mass to his chest and scrambled toward the farthest corner of the small bathroom. The blonde threw herself at Caleb, clutching at his hair and clothes as she shouted like a banshee in his ear. One hard shove and she sprawled over the toilet, gasping for breath as the impact forced the air from her lungs.

Caleb knew he should shoot her, just put her down, but he was too numb to do anything. The sight in front of him took him to places he had long since tried to forget.
Tehran. Blood. Whip.

Rape. Blood. Whip. Rape.
Staccato visions raced through his memory.
His clenched fists
gripping the sheets. His wails. The blood. So much blood.
He could almost hear the whip cracking against his flesh, a crisp, wet sound as it landed on fresh blood.
His screams pierced the
air and for a moment he believed he would finally die. Finally. Then the whip fell again. And
again.

“What. Happened.” His body shook with a fury he had not felt since the night he finally murdered Narweh. Caleb met the eyes of the trembling boy holding Kitten to his chest, who was trying to speak but couldn’t. “Who are you?”

“Kid,” the boy managed to get out.

Kid made sounds, but none of them coherent. Caleb lifted his gun and waited. “What…

happened?” he asked again, through gritted teeth.

“Please,” Kid begged and his blue eyes gave away too much emotion, “it wasn’t me, I tried to stop them…they…” The kid swallowed and held Kitten closer. Caleb’s finger almost squeezed the trigger. He didn’t want to look at her. If he looked at her….

“
They what!
”

Kid flinched. The gun was still aimed squarely at the boy’s head. “They tried to rape her okay! They tried. But, b-b-b-but they didn’t. She fought and…and….” Tears fell from Kid’s eyes. Fear. Fear he was about die. Kid looked away and held his arms toward Caleb. “Please.”

Kid whispered.

Caleb eyed the boy.
Kid.
The name fit. His face was baby smooth, his lips a little too full, like his own. Something perverse took root inside him. He would let this one live, the girl too.

Though they would soon wish he hadn’t. Caleb finally looked at Kitten. Her face was a bruised and bloody mess. Her eyes were closed but her lips were moving, trembling violently as was the rest of her body. Her head hung awkwardly to the left, her arms straight out over Kid’s arms.

Lower, her splayed legs showed bruises and boot marks where she had obviously been stomped on. Caleb swallowed. “Khalid,” Caleb’s voice was steady, “get a blanket and put it over the girl.

She’s in shock. Then bring these two out to me.”

As Caleb turned, Dani was standing with Khalid in the hallway. The two men entered as he left and already Caleb could hear the blonde struggling against them. Caleb allowed the old memories to wash over him as he approached the living room, spliced together with images of Kitten beaten and shaking on the bathroom floor. They were all the fuel he needed for what he was about to do.

As he entered the living room he saw Jair standing over Tiny who lay face down on the floor with his arms tied behind his back. Caleb pushed Jair back and grabbed hold of the biker’s greasy hair and pulled. For a moment it seemed as though Jair might push Caleb back, but once their eyes met it was obvious Caleb was not to be fucked with and that Tiny was about to learn the same. “Jair. Knife.”

Tiny struggled and cursed so that Caleb had to straddle his back to keep the man steady. The moment the knife landed in Caleb’s palm a rush of endorphins and rage poured down his spine.

“I warned you, you motherfucker!” He was blind. Bloodlust consumed his vision. He raised the knife at a forty-five degree angle and plunged in straight into the base of Tiny’s neck where it met his right shoulder. Tiny let out an inhuman scream and more endorphins released inside Caleb. He pulled the knife out and blood sprayed across his arm, chest, and neck. His head swam and his nostrils flared. He brought the knife down again, this time toward the back of the neck to separate the spinal cord.

Tiny’s accomplice screamed and screamed and screamed, making Caleb drunk with power and pure male satisfaction. Jair and his men yelled and cheered, wanting their turn. In the background the woman was making shrill incoherent sounds as she begged for Caleb to stop.

Caleb lifted the knife and once again plunged it deep. Tiny no longer made sounds. He just bled and ripped apart under Caleb’s knife.

As Tiny’s body sagged in Caleb’s grasp, his head holding up his body by only a few inches of muscle, bone and sinew, Caleb’s thoughts slowly began to clear. As he took in the sight of the blood covered room and screams of those who were about to suffer, Caleb’s thoughts returned to Kitten. She was hurt. She needed him. Caleb let go of Tiny and watched as he fell to the ground a lifeless lump of meat.