They were somewhere different, it smelt different.
Helga slowly opened her eyes and was met with a harsh blinding light. Her vision was still blurred, she tried to focus. Slowly shapes started to form around her. She looked down at her body and was grateful she was still clothed, but then she saw the chains around her ankles. She tried to move her arms but as she suspected they weren't free either, they were pinned down at the wrist above her head by some sort of clamp or chain. She could barely move them.
She looked around again, her vision clearing and took in the room. It couldn't have been any bigger than her bedroom, but it was dirty. A very bad tiling job surrounded her on all four walls. She assumed they were meant to be white, maybe make the room look clinical and fresh but they were dirty and tired. There were some deep brown stains across a few of them, Helga's heart thumped.
To her far right there was a single computer screen atop a small desk. The computer monitor looked like something from the 80s, and the tower's fan was making a painful whining noise as it fought to keep the equipment cool. Surrounding the computer station were piles and piles of neatly staked files and folders, and next to them was a single shower cubicle. It must have been the cleanest thing in the room. The whole cubicle looked like it didn't suit this nightmare place, it looked like something out of a showroom, maybe it had just been installed? No. If anyone came to install that, here, they would be disgusted. Disgusted and confused. Helga was confused.
That's when she saw it, to her left, a large collection of photographs, maps, schedules all pinned neatly to the wall. There were pictures of her. Pictures of her with Lila and Phoebe, pictures of her at school, in the park, at the café. In a rational way this all made sense. As far as she was aware she had been brought here by some mad nut job, so it was pretty normal considering the circumstances that he would have some shrine like wall or collection of his target. But there, to the left of the photos, schedules and notes…was a picture of Arnold. Why was there a picture of Arnold? Had this sicko got Arnold? Was he hurt? It made no sense to her.
She tried to swallow, her throat was dry. It must have been hours, maybe even days since she had drunk anything. She had no concept of time. It could still be Friday for all she knew and her friends could still be waiting for her at the theatre. It could be six months since that day and they had all given up, assuming she had run away or was dead. She tried to swallow again. She looked up at Arnold's photograph.
A door opened.
She hadn't noticed the door, it was as dirty as the tiles that surrounded these four disgusting walls, it almost blended in and made the room look impenetrable, like there was no way in or way out.
And then she saw him. Finally saw him. Approaching her was a stocky man, either with muscle or fat, she couldn't decide. He was about 5'9 and had dark, lank hair that danced around his podgy round face. He was wearing a large coat, a large brown coat and large dock-martin boots. And then she looked to his eyes.
She expected to see a scowl, a smirk, a sinister soulless stare that would run to her very core bringing fear. But she didn't. His eyes looked concerned, even kind. He smiled at her. She froze. He continued to walk towards her, stood right before her and held out a bottle of water.
He spoke, his voice tired and worn.
'It's a bottle of water, the seal is still there, I'll open it in front of you so you know it hasn't been tampered with. I wouldn't lie to you'.
She just looked up at him. Should she drink it? She was so thirsty.
He held the bottle close to her face and proceeded to turn the bottle cap with one bandaged hand. As promised the cap snapped as the seal broke.
'Tip your head back' he whispered, 'I wont hurt you, now drink'.
She opened her lips and allowed him to pour the water slowly into her mouth. It was cold, it tasted clean. She was grateful.
She drank almost the whole bottle before he took it from her lips and screwed the cap back on. She panted. He looked to her, his eyes appearing to be filled with something she couldn't quite read.
'I'm glad you're here.'
He sat down beside her, the mattress shifting her position slightly as it took his weight.
'I'm sure you have a lot of questions?' His eyes never left her face.
She didn't know what to say. Why was she here? Why her? What was he going to do with her? Would she ever be free from this room, from him? Was he going to kill her?
He sensed her questions, they were written all over her face. They always asked the same questions. They always wanted to know why they were so special, why he had chosen them.
'My beauty, you are here so you can be safe from all of them. All of those evil men who want to take advantage of you. All of those evil men, and boys, who don't see how truly special you are, how truly wonderful you are.'
She blinked.
'Girls like you are hard to find. Real beauties who are modest, strong and intelligent. All your friends, those girls, so willing to give themselves away, but not you, never you'.
He brought his stumpy, bandaged hand up to her face, he stroked it. She flinched but continued to stare at him. She was toying with what to say, which question was more important.
Helga cleared her throat.
'Are you going to kill me?'
He paused.
'Yes'
She held her breath. She hadn't expected him to be so honest, she hadn't expected him to flat out say it.
'You will be cleansed by me, then you will join your sisters. The good ones. I set them all free. I cleansed them and set them free'.
Helga couldn't believe what she was hearing. Cleansed, what the fuck did he mean? Was he going to give her a bath? Maybe chuck her in the shower and put a rifle to her head.
'You have many sisters my beautiful Helga. Some were purer than others'.
He nodded over to another set of images pinned to the wall she was leaning up against.
There were about 15 photographs, maybe more, of girls. Pretty young girls. Helga clocked that the youngest couldn't have been more than 13 or 14. Next to each of them he had scribbled little symbols. Some had circles, some had squares and other had triangles. She noted there were few triangles, more squares.
'We need to make sure though my beauty. I don't doubt your innocence, I have been watching you, but I need to be sure. I need to see how clean you must get. He will be here any minute to check'.
He got up from the mattress and moved away, heading towards his computer station.
'Why is there a picture up there, a picture of…a boy? Up on…my wall?' She stammered.
He quickly turned to face her again, a new dark look in his eyes.
'Oh I know all about Arnold. But I know you're safe from him now. He's far away. You don't need to worry about him anymore'.
Then an electronic bussing noise was heard. She saw his face change. He smiled again.
'He's here'
The dark man then left through the invisible looking door in an instance.
Helga couldn't move. She couldn't believe what was happening. She had watched plenty of horror films, plenty of thrillers but nothing had prepared her for this.
The door opened again and he returned to the room, all the while smiling. Following close behind him was another man. An ancient looking man. He seemed to glide into the room like a ghost. His skin showed outlines of bone everywhere, like he hadn't eaten in years, like he was rotting away. This mummified man looked to Helga, he had no expression on his face. His eyes were empty, soulless.
'Helga, this is my good friend and Doctor, he will be confirming what I need. This wont take long, so long as you don't struggle my sweet'.
Helga had no idea what the hell he was talking about. A Doctor? Why the hell would a Doctor be here, helping this freak?
The 'Doctor' moved towards her, placing what appeared to be a surgeons bag by his side at the foot of the mattress. Reaching into his bag he took out some sort of metal stand. He unfolded it and secured the item at his hinges, it looked like some sort of tripod. She watched his long skeletal fingers reached again into the bag, removing what appeared to be a large magnifying glass. He secured it on the tripod at the foot of the bed, and paused. He looked towards Helga's keeper.
'Yes, of course, the jeans.'
Her capturer walked forward to her, knelt down beside her and placed his hands on her crotch.
'GET OFF' Helga screamed.
The skeletal man grunted angrily.
'Your right, I'll get the bottle. She might struggle too much'.
The stocky man then quickly got up and went over to a shelf by his desk, the shelf was garnished with bottles and bottles of god knows what. He carefully selected one and then grabbed a rag from a small box on the shelf and walked back towards Helga, kneeling down by her again.
He pushed the cloth to her face but Helga turned, she wouldn't let it happen again, she was determined.
He then grabbed her by the chin with one bandaged and dirty hand, forcing her face to him.
'I told you, I don't want to hurt you. You shouldn't resist, it'll be over quicker that way'.
With his other strong hand he clasped the rag to her face.
This one smelt different. She didn't feel anything either, maybe this one wouldn't work on her? Maybe he had picked up the wrong bottle?
He removed his hand. Helga was confused. Then she felt it.
Her entire body seemed to go limp, her head lolled back against the pillow, as though she had been paralysed. But she was aware, she could still feel, think. She was awake.
'Its taken effect, lets proceed'.
Her keeper then returned his hands to her jeans, unbuttoning them, grabbing the zipper and pulling on it. He then carefully began to peel her jeans from her body, stopping when they got down to her knees. He reached down beside him and presented what appeared to be large fabric scissors. Helga, now wide eyed watched him cut through the base of her jeans, then down either side of her legs, making her bare from the waist down except for her deep blue panties.
She wanted to scream out, wanted to tell him to stop, to get off, but her body wouldn't allow it, paralysed all over.
He then placed the blade of the scissors on one side of her panties and cut, then the other side, and promptly pulled them away. She was bare.
He didn't look at her though, he didn't seem interested. Once her underwear was gone he rose from beside her and moved back towards his computer station, leaving Helga alone with skeletor.
The 'Doctor' then proceeded to place a bony hand on each knee, pulling them up into a bending position, parting her legs and allowing them to fall to her sides. Helga felt the shackles on her ankles pull against her skin, she knew she would bruise.
The large piece of equipment that had been set up earlier was now being pulled closer to the foot of the mattress. It whined in protest as he pulled it into position, flicking a switch on the side, allowing a bright light to protrude from it directly on to her crotch.
The diseased looking man stared at her for a second, straight into her eyes before looking down to her crotch and pulling apart her folds.
She closed her eyes. She felt everything but could do nothing. His bony fingers circled her entrance carefully, like he was trying to ease her open. She then felt a cold device slowly enter her, but she couldn't flinch in reaction. It couldn't have gone into her very far, it didn't fell like it had. She briefly opened her eyes to see the man expertly studying her through the aid of a large magnifying glass and light. She could see the lines of his face magnified as he studied her, his skin like paper, like dirty folded paper. He removed the device, wiped it down and put it carefully back into his bag. He turned the magnifying glasses light off.
The click of the light set the man in the corner to bolt up from his chair. He grabbed a blanket from another shelf and made his way over to them, wonder on his face.
'Is she untouched?' he had a sense of urgency in his voice
The mummified man paused for a moment. And then nodded, never saying a word.
'Wonderful I knew you would be my sweet. I knew you were a good girl, an Angel'
He repositioned her legs so that she was not longer in such a graphic predicament, and covered her with the blanket.
'Now we can begin the arrangements my darling. Now we can set you free'
