Burn, Baby, Burn by Michael Seale (Chapter 34)

 Chapter 34

Trish woke up, tied to a chair in a damp room and the late afternoon light spilled from the small dusty window in the corner. She wasn’t sure where she was. Her head hurt, a massively nasty headache. She could just barely get her eyes to focus. 

Bill was tied to the chair directly across from her, his head hung almost to this lap. His hair matted with dried blood and hung like loose strings. She could hear him breathing. Her gag kept her from being able to call to him, but she tried all the same. 

“Buuuuurrlllghhh…” tears rolled down her cheeks, silent cries for help. She felt hungover. Every move, every sound, the sunlight all hurt. Her hands tied to the armrests; she didn’t know how long she had been out. Then she remembered. Mike.

He had done this; she thought. He was the one behind it all. She screamed into her gag. How could he, she thought? They had been friends, lovers. He had wanted her, she him. But she choose Bill, was that why. Was this all just because he was jealous? 

Her thoughts cut short. She could hear a car pull into the stony drive. Its engine ticked as it settled. A door opened and closed. She strained against her restraints. She wanted desperately to be heard, to be found. Maybe they could get out. She screamed into her gag for help. 

“He… pppp! He… pppppp!” 

There was only silence, broken only by the quiet ticking of the motor. Her hearing sharpened, intent on survival. She pushed and pulled against her bindings. They cut deeper into her skin, burning with struggle. 

Mike stood behind her, silently watching the scene. He smiled. Knowing that he would deliver them both together was a special pleasure. He could take his time. In time the pain would give them the strength to go to the light, just as his mother had, just as the others had. The truth is the light, and the light is the truth, he thought. His burnt left hand, still pink and soft with new skin, rested on her shoulder. He knew that it would frighten her more than seeing his face. 

She screamed, or at least tried too. He laughed at the snot bubble that formed in one nostril. The bubble grew and expanded with each breath and then retreated. It amazed him how one snot bubble could make a beautiful woman so ugly. It didn’t pop; just appeared over and over as she sobbed. He walked past her and knelt down next to Bill. Whispered in his ear, staring at Trish. He knew Bill couldn’t hear him; he was still out. The asshole had almost OD earlier. The drugs he gave the big man were a bit stronger than he thought. But it was of no matter. He is still alive and will be awake soon enough. 

Mike had slept earlier, he had to gather his strength. He didn’t want the other pussy interfering anymore. It surprised him that the other had had the balls to reclaim the control. 

Trish’s breathing slowed. She knew that if it didn’t, she would hyperventilate. She concentrated on that, slowing her breathing. It was difficult with the monster crouched before her. Her breath hitched again. He terrified her. Why would he do this to them? Her body shook. 

His legs cramped as he crouched next to Bill. He would wake him, of course, before he started; he wanted Bill to beg for her, to plead for her. Bill’s pain would be his pleasure. Mike knew that Bill loved the bitch, but love wouldn’t save shit. Love never does. Love is for the lost, the ones that don’t know. How could anyone truly love? It disgusted him the thought of love. Everyone pours their hearts out, says I love you and fucks somebody else, when their genuine love turns their back. Love never wins; it just postpones the hurt for another day. Eventually we all fall out of love, in one way or another, he thought. Today, the love between the two of them will burn in the light.

 Bill’s head drooped further forward; it looked as if he might tip over at any minute. Mike toyed with him, pushing his head farther down and then pulling it back up. He had yet to say anything to Trish. He pulled Bill’s head back by his hair and cradled his face under his arm. Mike pulled Bill’s lips back to make a smile, more like a sneer. He grinned at Trish. 

“Why aren’t you happy? Bill is happy, see.” He said.

He pulled at Bill’s cheeks, drawing blood from the corners of his mouth. He shoved the big man’s face forward once again. His weight forced him to topple over. A fresh cut appeared on his forehead where he had landed. The fall was enough to wake him up. He groaned. 

“At last, my friend, you are awake.” Mike said with glee. “Let me help you.” 

Mike acted like they were friends out having a good time. Bill sat confused. Blood dripped down into his right eye. He blinked over and over, trying to focus. 

“What the hell is going on? Why…” he stopped mid-sentence the second his eyes landed on Trish. “You motherfucker. I will fucking kill you.”

“This isn’t about you or about her, Bill. This about your sins, our sins, her sins. You see, the bitch here, led us both astray. I will pay for my sins one day, but until then I will show you to the light. In the light is truth.” Mike smiled at Bill. 

Bill raged he struggled against the ropes that held him. His chair teetered back and forth. He fought to break free. Mike watched with pity in his eyes. Bill doesn’t know it yet, he thought, but I am only helping him on his way. The pain is necessary to bring the light. 

Mike had all but forgotten Trish as he watched Bill try to break free. Trish had realized long before there was no breaking the bonds. The ropes had cut her wrists; blood had trickled down over her wrists and hands. The hemp strands burned in the fresh wounds. Trish didn’t understand what Mike had meant. She had done nothing wrong. She was soaked with sweat and her own piss. The embarrassment burned on her face. She wondered why she would worry about something like that. Mike turned to her. His movements were slow, deliberate. His eyes were different. Even in the soft light of the basement, she could see they were not the same color as normal. It was his blue eyes that caught her attention first, now they were black. 

The gag had caused spit to gather around her mouth and slowly drooled down the sides of her lips. She was a pitiful site, Mike thought. Snot bubbles, drool, not even smart enough to realize her screams wouldn’t help her. He would though; he would lead her to the light. His obsession with what he believed was the final saving grace in life. The fire, it had taken his mother; he had put his father there. He knew it was the only way to cleanse one’s self of your own sins. He also knew that he would send himself to the light one day. He cherished the thought with every fire that he lit. He hoped the day would be soon. 

The charcoal black furnace sat in the basement's corner. He hoped it would still light. The Lennox Furnace Company logo was visible through the soot. Above that the words Torrid Zone formed a circle. There was no coal left which to light it with but plenty of other things to burn. He would have to build the fire as hot as he could. It wasn’t like the pizza oven that he had been using. He went to breaking the old wood down. Finding old crates and scrapes of wood, clothing and paper to use. Trish’s back was away from Mike as he worked. Bill watched, all the while struggling to loosen the ropes that held him. Trish begged Mike through her gag to let them go. But he ignored her and hummed a melancholy tune.