It is said that many victims of any major trauma, torture especially, retreat within themselves when it gets too much. The emotions they are bound by during the act cannot handle the pain, pulling the victim deeper into their subconscious until their imagination is all they know- all they remember ever knowing. Essentially they regress into their own imagination, blocking out the trauma with a more attractive reality; some more believable than others. No matter how unstable this anti-reality is, it is very real to the victim, and in many cases they cannot handle facing the real world again, even when the trauma subsides. In a way, this act is like a shelter for the mind when it does not want to believe… when it cannot handle belief itself.
"Wake up."
The girl slowly opened her eyes. Her legs dangled under her at a most uncomfortable angle and tingled when she wiggled her toes. Metal cuffs held her wrists above her head, digging into the flesh, and beckoning for her blood to spill onto them. They were thirsty, the rough patch of rust proved it, and only the liquid hiding beneath her flesh would quench their desire. Her every move helped wear down the skin, coaxing out only a few tiny red droplets at time. She winced and pushed her still-sleeping legs under her to limit the pain. They gave a short scuff over the floor that grow louder and echoed off the walls.
The room was cold, damp, and smelled of something rotten. There was little light, and what was revealed by it only said that the walls were stone; the floor concrete. Sweat gathered over the girl's brow as she struggled to figure out where she was. It was basement of some sort, but where? The last thing she remembered was going to sleep. Yes, she had changed into her pink night gown and slid between the silk covers, expecting to walk to school in the morning. A sudden dread washed over her as she realized she couldn't remember anything passed that. Had she been drugged? Was there someone lurking in the parts of the room still shadowed, waiting for her to wake so they could… Her eyes widened in horror and she pulled at her restraints. The metallic clatter filled the room and she pulled in vain, trying to free her wrists.
"Stop! He'll hear you and come for both of us!" somebody whispered urgently, and she recognized it to be the one who ad woken her. The girl quieted, her chest rapidly rising and falling. She waited for another whisper, and when it didn't come, she filled the silence with a whisper of her own.
Shakily, yet delicately, she asked "who?"
The reply was rushed and irritated. "What do you mean 'who'? Quick playin' around Mandy, you know who!" Bits of the whisperer's voice poked through, revealing his identity to the girl.
"Billy?" she asked.
There was a slight hesitation before he responded, confusion evident in his tone, "Who'd you expect? Are you feeling alright?"
Mandy swallowed. What was going on? She had only just been with him and Irwin before bed. They had been discussing the possibility of Nergal's return, and- Nergal? Could that be the one behind this?
"Really Mandy, how much blood have you los-" Billy shut up when footsteps were heard above them. Time seemed to freeze, and both held their breath while someone walked ominously slowly along the squeaking floorboards. "You've really done it now," he breathed. The walking continued in no particular direction for a whole 30 seconds. About 5 seconds after it quieted, the pair let go of their breath and waited even longer, ready for anything. Finally, when she was sure nothing else would happen, Mandy spoke up.
"Nergal?" she asked, almost inaudibly.
"What?" Billy's chains moved slightly and produced a quiet click. They paused, making sure the footsteps were not returning.
"Is that who's up there?" Mandy asked.
"No… No, it's Grim. Who's Nergal? Are you sure you're okay?"
"Grim?" she repeated. Well, that didn't make any sense. He was with her that day also. In fact, she had manipulated him into cutting the grass… so why was Billy so afraid to utter his name? Another nagging question in her head pertained to why Billy was answering her so uncharacteristically intelligent.
"Billy," she whispered firmly, "Explain to me what we're doing here. Why is he doing this to us? When did we even get here?"
"You… you really don't remember, do you?" Billy asked. When she didn't respond, he went on. "I think it's been about 30 days since we've been here."
Mandy squeezed her eyes shut. A month? That wasn't possible! She would have stopped him, but something about the number rang true, and she suddenly remembered establishing that number just a few moments earlier. She remained quiet and listened to everything he had to say, hoping she would remember what he said once it was out. It was all so confusing.
"That guy," he spit the word out like poison, "he took us while we were sleeping. I don't know how, but he did it, and now we're here at the mercy of his entertainment."
"Entertainment?" she bit her lip, struggling to remove the block from her memory.
"You can't tell me you've forgotten that."
"It feels like I was just with your mother, Billy. Oh god, doesn't anybody know we're here?" Mandy's voice was small and shaky, tears forming at her eyes. She would never let them fall, she was far stronger than that, but she knew they were there.
"My mother? What are you going on about? I told you when Grim brought you here that she's been dead for six year-" Billy started to say, but his words were drowned out by the sound of hard stomps coming toward them. Not only that, but a distant light seemed to be coming closer, too. Mandy's eyes darted to where she heard Billy and watched as his body was slowly highlighted by the oncoming light. She nearly gagged when her eyes raked over his disgustingly deformed person, crumpled in a limp heap on the ground. His clothing was smeared with a dried mixture of blood and dirt and was littered with holes ranging in size from small to impossibly large. The rotting smell seemed to strengthen as it hit her that it was coming from him. As long as she kept her eyes on him, he did not move, as much as she begged to a god to let him still be breathing.
"What's going on down here?" an irritated Jamaican accent yelled threateningly as Mandy squinted against a flashlight.
She did not hesitate to burst into hysterics as she yelled "what did you to him!?" over and over again. Clearly he was dead, so why did she have to hold onto her calm demeanor? He was the only reason she ever acted so calm or angry in any situation, even when all she wanted to do was scream and cry; and now he was dead. Dead. The word repetitively burned into her mind, forcing itself to become her reality. He was dead.
"How could you!?" she screamed at the approaching light, hoping the voice hiding behind it would hear and feel at least some sort of remorse. "You killed him, didn't you!?"
Mandy's head snapped to the right as a crack echoed through the room. She shrieked in surprise as her cheek tingled and stung with the aftermath of being slapped. She blinked once, her lip quivering in silence. The man who had dared touch her removed his shadowed cover and moved into the light. He wore a black cloak, but that didn't hide the sickly skinniness of his body. His fingers hardly had enough skin to cover them, every curve of his bones visible.
"You be quiet now, Mondy. I don't want t' hurt you like I hod t' Billy," the man, who bore an uncanny resemblance to her Grim, spoke to her almost soothingly. He reached his slender hand toward her and lightly brushed it down her face as she tried not to cry.
His touch sent a shock of uneasiness down her body and she shifted, her chains clanking together once more. A sob escaped her as she remembered another detail of her stay in the basement. That had not been the first time Grim had hit her, and certainly not the hardest he had done so. It also wasn't the first time he had caressed her, either, and she wished that her face had been the only body part he had done so to. The image of his skinny body holding her to floor while Billy could only shout for him to stop, to please stop hurting her, stop fucking her, popped into her head.
There was nothing she could do to stop the tears from streaming down her face as her shoulders shook with agonistic cries of horror and realization. There was no Grim. He was Grim, and he had skin, and he killed Billy. Only, there wasn't a Billy, either, was there? No, that wasn't true. She had seen the body. Yes, there was a Billy, but he wasn't her Billy. Hers wasn't intelligent, had a mother, and… and didn't exist. Nobody existed. It was only her, and she had made everyone else up.
Mandy pulled in a sharp breath, trying to calm herself down. Not only was her reality crumbling, but she didn't know if the world's reality was shattering with it. What was real? She slowly slumped down as far to the ground as she could, still bound to her restraints.
No no no, not right not right not right. She pulled in a shutter breath and wrapped her arms around the legs she had drawn to her chest so that her hands rested on her elbows.
"Awe, what's wrong Man-dyyy?" Billy's stupid, animated voice filled her ears and she jerked her head up to come face-to-face with the large-nosed doofus.
"Nothing Billy," she answered immediately and reached up to hastily dry her tears, only to find that they weren't there. But that… wasn't right, was it? Mandy swallowed and looked around, wondering how they got to where they were. The hot sun beat down on her, causing her to shield her eyes with one hand while the other tangled into the grass below to support her weight. Again, something told her that wasn't right, but… oh! She remembered now, walking there with Billy from her home. Yes, that had to be it. It was it. Billy had knocked on her door and dragged her outside to play… what were they playing?
"Billy, what are we doing here?" as the phrase left her lips, she was overcome with a feeling of Deja-vu, which she ultimately ignored.
"Uuuuuh," he placed a finger to his chin, deep in thought. "Oh yeayah! We're waiting for Grim!" he exclaimed excitedly.
Mandy cradled her face in her hand and mumbled into it. "Stop being idiotic." She felt a scowl cover her face and idly wondered why she didn't have one before. In fact, why did she think she was crying?
"What do you kids want now?" Grim interrupted her thoughts, walking to the pair like he always did; clad in a cloak, skinless, and wielding a scythe. The sight of him calmed her, but she had not the slightest clue as to why. She hated Grim, and forced her frown deeper.
"We needed you to… Entertain us," Mandy answered, the word "entertain" rolling off her tongue thickly.
"What d'you expect me to entertain you wit', Mondy?" he asked sarcastically.
She rolled her eyes and answered, "anything." Billy took a seat beside her and they both looked to Grim expectantly. As he searched against his will for something to amuse them, the nagging in Mandy's head started to fade. No, yes, not right… Right. Soon, all was right. Within minutes, she couldn't remember what had even been wrong. She looked to Billy, frown in place, and almost wanted to smile- almost. Her gaze flicked to Grim again, and she sighed contently. It wasn't until Billy whispered to her that she stiffened. "Wake up."