Proposition
Of course, I did not sleep well that night.
As a matter of fact, I didn't sleep at all. The blankets with which I had used to stop the flow of blood from my wound were, obviously, ruined. And so after I did manage to fix up the wound well enough, my sleeping conditions were not at their most glamorous. Still shaking from my earlier meeting, I gathered up and stripped the sheets from the bed, and threw them in the corner of the room.
The only things that managed to come out of the ordeal relatively unscathed were the two pillows and the mattress cover. Chilled and deeply shaken and still dripping blood, I curled up in a ball in the middle of the bed. In some ways, I did not regret my chosen actions to meet with Ryuzaki—that is, this Beyond Birthday. In other ways, I wished the idea had never crossed my mind. But what mattered most was the information I had collected.
He was a killer. A murder, it seemed, who enjoyed torture. And I had met him before, apparently, although I had absolutely no idea when that may have been. However, I still had almost no clue as to why I was being held captive in an old, run-down building while my serial killer abductor went on continuous rampages of rape and torture throughout the near and distant area of Chicago.
In simpler words… Why was I still alive?
I remained awake until the sun rose outside. I waiting then, for the usual knock on the door, but it never came. Curious after some time, I stood and tried the door handle to find it unlocked.
The door at the end of the stairs was unlocked as well. Heart beating quickly in my chest, I slowly pushed the heavy door open.
The room that faced me looked something like a parlor. There was a fireplace that sat facing a moth-eaten plaid couch, although no fire crackled inside. There was a beaten coffee table in front of the couch, and bookshelves covered the walls. The room's only source of light came from a small window opposite to the fireplace.
On the opposite wall from where I stood, there was an entrance to another room, a room that sat completely eclipsed in dark.
I was afraid to move from the doorframe. Was I let out on purpose? Or was it an accident? It was hard for me to imagine Ryuzaki making such a simple mistake as to forget locking a door, but anything was possible. I hesitated before taking my first step into the parlor room.
I was expecting an alarm to sound, red lights to buzz, metal bars to close in around me, but nothing happened. I walked forward, still studying the parlor room curiously. Something I had previously dismissed quickly came to my attention.
There were candles. Hundreds of them. They lined the tops of the bookshelves, the corners of the coffee table, the floor. I didn't need to think twice about why my captor needed candles. If this really was an abandoned building of some sort, a building that Ryuzaki had taken over, then it made sense that there wouldn't be any electricity. And it was pretty obvious he didn't have a very strict schedule when it came to his killings. So, it was only likely that he'd be up at some point during the night, and it's pretty hard to move around at midnight when there is absolutely no light to speak of.
Why he would bother with so many candles, though, was beyond me. You only needed one or two to truly see in the dark.
But his reasoning did not matter much then. I crossed the room to the entrance on the other side and squinted, trying to see into the darkness. From what I could make out, it was just a simple hallway, lined with doorways.
I tried the first one on the right. It opened up to a small closet-like room, with a bunk bed and a desk similar to the one in my room. The first door on the left opened up to something exactly similar. I tried all the doors down the row, revealing two more like the first, a bathroom, a broom closet, and finally, at the end of the hallways to the right, a large, master bedroom.
It was hard for me to tell if anyone was living in it. It seemed as dusty and dirty as the others, but there were sheets on the bed, and the window was open above the bed just a smidge. I closed the door quietly and turned to face the last one, on the left.
It opened into another hallway. I was already thoroughly confused by the structural design of the building—I felt like I was trying to make my way through a maze. And it was also nearly impossible to tell where everything was placed inside the building entirely, especially with such an odd assortment of rooms and windows. From what I could gather, my bedroom was really no more than a storage room with a bed in it. The "parlor room" was more like a secret back room, for guests only, or something of the sort. And the hallway I had just come from was also a guest hallway. But with a master bedroom…? None of it made sense and I couldn't help but feel victimized by the building's architect, as if it had been designed just to perplex me.
And everywhere I looked, candles! What could one man possibly do with so many candles? Who had time to light them all at night? Who had time to blow them out?
I managed to get through another series of hallways before reaching another set of stairs. They led down to a doorway similar to the one from the room I was trapped in. I reached out tried the handle, once again, finding it unlocked. Before entering the next room, I tried to trace through my mind where exactly I'd been so far in the maze, but I couldn't quite remember. So I crossed my fingers and hoped that I'd be able to find my way back if all of this led to nothing.
When the door opened, once more, I saw yet another room entirely encased in black. And once more, I strained my eyes to see into the darkness. And then, just out of the corner of my eye, I caught something move.
"Planning on escaping?"
Two pair of red eyes lit in the darkness. I heard the sound of a match striking, and then a candle was lit, casting Ryuzaki—Beyond?—in an eerie glow. I took a deep breath by I shuddered as I let it out. This man had the ability to transform me from completely calm to completely crazed.
"Uh… No… J-j-just exploring." I stammered uneasily.
"Exploring, huh?" I looked for signs of the switchblade, but he didn't seem to have it on him. He stood up, and the candle revealed him to be wearing the exact same thing as the day on the bus—and possibly even the same thing as the night before. It's hard to memorize clothing when you're hiding in fear.
"Well, I'm glad you found your way here. I have a proposition."
"Huh? You let me out on purpose?"
"Of course. You didn't really think I'd make a mistake as stupid as to leave all the doors unlocked, did you?"
No, I really didn't. He was much too smart for that. I cleared my throat.
"Ryuzaki…"
His eyes were now back to their usual dark color, but I could still see red flashing through them when I said that name.
"Please. Call me Beyond Birthday."
"Beyond…" I said carefully. "I still don't understand why I'm here."
"That's a good thing, in my eyes." Beyond turned and lit another match, lighting another candle that sat on a wooden table behind him now. In the faint light, I could just barely make out the rest of the room; a kitchen, it was, and a very nice one from what I could tell. Much too nice for the sort of building we were in. Nothing was sitting on the countertops aside from a large empty serving bowl and an antique radio right next to the sink. A thick blackout curtain blocked any and all sunlight from a window next to the refrigerator.
"Why?" I was really genuinely curious. Why was keeping me in the dark a good thing? I doubted I had any sort of advantage at the time.
"Because you have more power in this situation than you think."
Ha! I seriously doubted that. I actually laughed, right then in there, earning me a curiously deadly glare in my direction from Beyond.
"I didn't say it was funny."
Did he need to say something was funny in order for me to laugh? Didn't he just get done telling me I had at least some power? I shook my head.
"I'm sorry, it's just… Really? How can I possibly have any sort of power over you?"
"I didn't say it was over me either."
We were both silent for a moment, our eyes locked together, until he finally broke the stare to turn and head over to the fridge. He then brought out a plate of something… brown.
Brown and delicious.
"Is that… cake?" I asked. He shot me a look as if to say, don't speak unless you are spoken too. I shut my mouth quickly. I had to remember—although it was hard to forget—that one wrong move could be deadly for me.
Beyond set the plate on the wooden table with the candles. He peeled back a layer of saran wrap in order to give me a better look. I couldn't tell what flavor the cake was, but the frosting was most definitely chocolate, and intricately decorated, too. It looked like the sort of cake you buy in a fancy bakery or order for a wedding. It was small—only one layer. But in that moment, it was the only thing I wanted.
And I had good reason for it, too. I hadn't eaten for the past few days. That day, because Beyond never fed me, and the day before because of the disturbing delivery that came with my food. I was ravenous. Beyond smiled his awful smile, and laughed that unnatural laugh.
"You look hungry." He said, almost cruelly. Although I think it would be safe to say that everything Beyond said had a small hint of cruelty mixed in with it.
"As I was saying before, I have a proposition for you, my dear." He walked over to the counters and drew a small cutting knife out of a drawer. He brought it back to the cake and slowly cut into it, just with the tip. When he pulled it back out, the top of the knife was covered in frosting and crumbs.
Beyond slid the knife into his mouth and licked it clean; his eyes, taunting me as he did so. He could tell I wanted the cake, and badly, too. Even if I wasn't starving, I would still want it, just because of the fact I'd only been dining on tomatoes and jam for the past week.
"As you may have noticed, I failed to feed you today. This wasn't an accident; it seems that I've run into a bit of a predicament."
I eyed him suspiciously. Of course, I had every right to be suspicious of him every time of the day. But he had a strange smile on his lips—even stranger than his usual smile.
"I saw this beautiful cake in a bakery shop the other day and thought of you."
And thought of me? He bought the cake for me? I furrowed my brow in confusion.
"But I—" I began.
"Silence!" He ordered, stabbing the knife into the wood of the table. I jumped and closed my mouth shut in fear. He smiled once more.
"I thought of you. I thought of how much you might enjoy this cake. So I bought it."
Once again, I gave him a confused, sideways look.
"Unfortunately," He then stared at the cake artfully, with a dramatically fake sad face. "Unfortunately, the cake was rather expensive. Do you know how much it cost?"
I was afraid to speak up again, so I kept my mouth shut. Beyond pulled the knife out of the table, leaving a deep niche behind in the wood.
"Well? Do you?"
Silence. I shifted from one foot to the other, suddenly growing uncomfortable from standing in the same position for so long.
He laughed. "Perhaps I shouldn't tell you the exact amount. You might punish me for being so lavish; especially seeing as I spent the entire next week's money set aside for your food on this cake."
I widened my eyes. For my food…? Did he mean…?
"And after I had this cake here, and I reflected on it being your only possible meal until I can secure some more money, I began to wonder…" He drifted off for a moment, his head tilted to the side. "I began to wonder… I began to think to myself, Beyond Birthday, how far do you think this pathetic little girl will go to eat this week?"
No… He couldn't mean…
"This is when I thought up something marvelous. A very easy, and very simple, way to get you to do whatever it is I want."
My mouth felt dry and sticky as I tried to swallow. I had that all-eclipsing clasp of fear over my heart. I didn't want to hear what it was he had to say next—no matter what it would be; I knew I wouldn't like it.
"My dear. This is where my proposition comes in."
Beyond placed the saran wrap back over the cake and put the plate back into the fridge. He walked over to the table and sat down again, the knife still gleaming in the candlelight. Despite the relatively cool temperature of the building, sweat began to run down my neck.
"P-pr-proposition?" I forgot myself; my words tumbled out before I could think differently. Beyond either didn't notice or didn't mind this time around, for he said nothing to my speaking. It was like he had a split personality—and I never knew when he wanted one thing, or another.
"Yes. I will give you that cake, as well as share with you all the food I happened to buy for myself this week, if you help me with… something."
If this was a horror movie, a crack of lightning would have been suitable around this point. However, although it did seem like a horror movie to me, the building—and the sky—remained silent.
"What is it?" I asked finally, when he didn't continue.
He was holding the cutting knife again, like he held the switchblade; and his eyes kept glancing between me and it, as if he were holding back on something. "Hmm." He muttered something I couldn't understand before walking back over to the drawers and replacing it.
"What is it?" I repeated.
He came back to the table and sat down at one of the chairs. "Well, my dear. I believe I would like your assistance with one of my… trials."
"Trials?" I asked. "You mean… Like in the newspaper…"
He nodded slowly, the candlelight making him appear devil-like in the glow.
"No." I said, harshly. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Absolutely not. I would never do something like that!"
He turned his head to the side, smiling slightly. "Are you sure?"
"Never. You can't make me—you can starve me, hurt me, kill me, whatever—but I will never help you kill someone. Ever."
"Hmm. I have to say I'm disappointed, my dear—"
"And stop calling me that!" I gasped at my outburst, surprised at the rage that surged inside of me. It was quickly replaced by fear when Beyond leapt from the table and pinned me to the opposite wall, the force knocking the wind right out of me.
I choked and struggled as he held my arms in place. "Look at me," he growled, and he kept me pushed hard against the wall until finally I obeyed him. He didn't have a knife, or a gun, but like he had said the first day—the threat wasn't in the weapon. He was the threat. And I had no doubt that he could have killed me with his bare hands if he wished it so. I couldn't run, because I wasn't faster than him. And I couldn't fight, because I wasn't stronger than him.
When my eyes met his, I wanted to just disappear entirely off the face of the Earth. Really, how did I get into this situation? Why did it have to be me? Why? A tear fell down my cheek.
"You will obey me. You will let me do whatever I want. You will let me call you whatever I want. You may have a little bit of power, my dear, but it's not much."
He kept me like that for at least five minutes, just forcing me to stare at him, before he dropped me. I fell to the ground, holding my arms in pain—the faint outlines of bad bruises were beginning to show where he had grabbed me. I rested my head against the wall, more tears beginning to drip down my face.
Beyond walked over to me and lifted me up onto my feet, my legs buckling and threatening to collapse again. He turned me around, his hands on my shoulders, and leaned in to whisper in my ear.
"Think about my proposition. I think you'd be surprised how hard it is to go without food."
Then he pushed me through the open doorway. I walked slowly down the hall until I heard the door to the kitchen close and lock behind me. As soon as I heard that click, I began to run, and didn't stop until I reached the familiar drafty coolness of my prison room.