Lost The Plot? Part 12
By Angievette
Face couldn't decide whether it was night or day. Locked down in a cellar with no way of telling the time and no windows, one hour was pretty much like the last. However, there was one thing that Face found different during this particular hour than all the others. For the first time since he'd been taken prisoner, he was on his own. Kingston, Johnson, Baker and everyone else had left him alone. He was yet to decide whether this was good, that they'd finally given up on him, or whether it was bad, that this was the calm before the storm and he was in for much more. He wondered whether or not Hannibal and the guys had noticed he'd gone. With no way of knowing how long he'd been missing, he hadn't any way of knowing whether the others would be aware he'd gone AWOL. Even if they had noticed, how would they find him? Face started to realise just how stupid he'd been. His grief over Amy had blinded his judgement. He'd recklessly gone after Kingston, knowing that Hannibal would have stopped him going if he'd known. Now, his hands and feet chained up, Face knew Hannibal would have been right. Something else was playing on his mind. Who was the mysterious Vincent? He was the one who wanted Hannibal from the sounds of it but he must also have some kind of hold over Kingston, something that made Kingston do his every bidding. Face tried to twist round, to alter his position slightly. His back was beginning to ache from sitting in the same position. He moved slightly to his right and pain shot through him, causing him to curse loudly. He tried moving to the left but got the same reaction. Blindly swearing at the empty cell, Face resigned himself to sitting in the same position again. Every muscle in his body screamed out in agony. Still, he had the satisfaction of knowing that Kingston had got nothing out of him other than his name and rank. Kingston had seemed frustrated to say the least. Obviously, the anonymous Mr Vincent would require more than that. He heard the rattle of chains and looked up as the door opened. He sighed inwardly, knowing this would mean more pain and humiliation. He was surprised to see a young girl enter the cell with a tray of food. She didn't look at him as she placed the tray in front of him and then she reached into the front pocket of her dress and withdrew a small key. She approached him and his automatic reaction was to flinch away.
"I'm not going to hurt you," she said, softly. Face stared at her. She reached down and stroked his face. "You poor thing. I'm just going to unlock those chains, you can't eat with your hands tied up."
She reached over and unlocked the chains that bound his hands to the wall. She picked the tray up and handed it to Face who accepted it gratefully. He wolfed down the meagre meal quickly and gulped the water greedily. The girl sat back against the wall of the cell and watched him, curiously. When his hunger had been subdued, he glanced up at her. She smiled at him.
"Why didn't you try to escape?" she asked.
"Even if I'd got past you," said Face. "I doubt I'd have got very far."
"How do you know?" she asked. Face pushed the tray away from his body and regarded this girl. A girl who had no fear of a prisoner, a soldier.
"I don't think you came in here without telling anyone," said Face. "Besides," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I was hungry."
The girl laughed.
"I bet you were," she said. "I'm Maisie. Maisie Kingston."
"As in Doug Kingston's wife?"
"Hardly," snorted the girl. "As if I'd marry that pig. He's my stepfather."
"Does he know you brought me food?" asked Face.
"Yes," said Maisie. "Although, he wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea. However, I wasn't going to let you starve down here."
She moved over to where Face was sitting. She unlocked the chains binding his feet. Reaching into her pocket again, she withdrew a bottle of antiseptic and some cotton wool. Face eyed her warily.
"I bet Kingston doesn't know you've got that either," he said. She shook her head and started to clean the wounds on Face's back but he stopped her.
"Don't," he said. "I don't want you getting into trouble on my behalf. I've had worse than this."
She dropped her head.
"I want to help you," she said. "I can't bear the thought of anyone locked up down here like a wild animal."
She sniffed and Face smiled at her.
"Believe me, I've been through worse. You'd help me more by staying out of Kingston's way."
"I know what he's like," said Maisie. "He killed my mother."
Face's eyes filled with pity for the young girl. After taking a proper look at her, he noticed she was much younger than he'd first thought. She was no more than a child. She saw him looking at her and her face hardened.
"Don't feel sorry for me," she said.
"I don't," said Face. "I understand. I know how you feel."
"You saw your mother die, did you?" asked Maisie, sarcastically.
"No," said Face, softly. "I never knew my mother or my father. I'm an orphan."
"Oh," said Maisie. "Then how do you know how I feel?"
"What day is it?" he asked.
Maisie looked puzzled but replied "Thursday."
"I buried my girlfriend six days ago," said Face. "Kingston had her killed."
"I'm so sorry," said Maisie, feeling guilty about snapping at him. "I had no idea. I knew he was heartless but I never thought he was that evil."
"But you just said he killed your mother."
"Through neglect," said Maisie. "After she married him, he became a monster. He hardly let her out, she stayed in her room most of the time. The few times she dared to venture downstairs, he abused her verbally, calling her names, belittling her in front of his men. Her spirit died first, then her heart, finally her body gave up and she had a heart attack. I was with her when she died. She told me just before she died, that despite everything, she still loved him. He had control of her right until the end. He inherited the house, her money, everything. He had nothing until she died, now he has everything."
"Maisie, I'm so sorry. I wish I knew what to say."
"Just let me help you," she said. "I'm not frightened of him. I don't want to him break you, like he broke my mother."
"He won't," said Face. "But if it makes you feel better."
She smiled and started to clean the wounds on his face. After she had cleaned up his wounds as best she could, she went outside the cell and got a warm blanket. She handed it to Face.
"I must go now," she said. "I'll come back later when you've had some rest. He's gone out so you'll be okay for a while. I promise I'll come back."
Face smiled at her.
"Thank you," he said and she smiled back.
"You're welcome."
She left the cell and locked it behind her. Face wrapped himself up in the blanket and thought about things. So he'd been down here for six days. The others must have noticed he'd gone by now. They must be looking for him but he knew they didn't know where he was. Sleep overcame him and he drifted into silent slumber, his head filled with unanswered questions and a girl called Maisie.
TBC
By Angievette
Face couldn't decide whether it was night or day. Locked down in a cellar with no way of telling the time and no windows, one hour was pretty much like the last. However, there was one thing that Face found different during this particular hour than all the others. For the first time since he'd been taken prisoner, he was on his own. Kingston, Johnson, Baker and everyone else had left him alone. He was yet to decide whether this was good, that they'd finally given up on him, or whether it was bad, that this was the calm before the storm and he was in for much more. He wondered whether or not Hannibal and the guys had noticed he'd gone. With no way of knowing how long he'd been missing, he hadn't any way of knowing whether the others would be aware he'd gone AWOL. Even if they had noticed, how would they find him? Face started to realise just how stupid he'd been. His grief over Amy had blinded his judgement. He'd recklessly gone after Kingston, knowing that Hannibal would have stopped him going if he'd known. Now, his hands and feet chained up, Face knew Hannibal would have been right. Something else was playing on his mind. Who was the mysterious Vincent? He was the one who wanted Hannibal from the sounds of it but he must also have some kind of hold over Kingston, something that made Kingston do his every bidding. Face tried to twist round, to alter his position slightly. His back was beginning to ache from sitting in the same position. He moved slightly to his right and pain shot through him, causing him to curse loudly. He tried moving to the left but got the same reaction. Blindly swearing at the empty cell, Face resigned himself to sitting in the same position again. Every muscle in his body screamed out in agony. Still, he had the satisfaction of knowing that Kingston had got nothing out of him other than his name and rank. Kingston had seemed frustrated to say the least. Obviously, the anonymous Mr Vincent would require more than that. He heard the rattle of chains and looked up as the door opened. He sighed inwardly, knowing this would mean more pain and humiliation. He was surprised to see a young girl enter the cell with a tray of food. She didn't look at him as she placed the tray in front of him and then she reached into the front pocket of her dress and withdrew a small key. She approached him and his automatic reaction was to flinch away.
"I'm not going to hurt you," she said, softly. Face stared at her. She reached down and stroked his face. "You poor thing. I'm just going to unlock those chains, you can't eat with your hands tied up."
She reached over and unlocked the chains that bound his hands to the wall. She picked the tray up and handed it to Face who accepted it gratefully. He wolfed down the meagre meal quickly and gulped the water greedily. The girl sat back against the wall of the cell and watched him, curiously. When his hunger had been subdued, he glanced up at her. She smiled at him.
"Why didn't you try to escape?" she asked.
"Even if I'd got past you," said Face. "I doubt I'd have got very far."
"How do you know?" she asked. Face pushed the tray away from his body and regarded this girl. A girl who had no fear of a prisoner, a soldier.
"I don't think you came in here without telling anyone," said Face. "Besides," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I was hungry."
The girl laughed.
"I bet you were," she said. "I'm Maisie. Maisie Kingston."
"As in Doug Kingston's wife?"
"Hardly," snorted the girl. "As if I'd marry that pig. He's my stepfather."
"Does he know you brought me food?" asked Face.
"Yes," said Maisie. "Although, he wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea. However, I wasn't going to let you starve down here."
She moved over to where Face was sitting. She unlocked the chains binding his feet. Reaching into her pocket again, she withdrew a bottle of antiseptic and some cotton wool. Face eyed her warily.
"I bet Kingston doesn't know you've got that either," he said. She shook her head and started to clean the wounds on Face's back but he stopped her.
"Don't," he said. "I don't want you getting into trouble on my behalf. I've had worse than this."
She dropped her head.
"I want to help you," she said. "I can't bear the thought of anyone locked up down here like a wild animal."
She sniffed and Face smiled at her.
"Believe me, I've been through worse. You'd help me more by staying out of Kingston's way."
"I know what he's like," said Maisie. "He killed my mother."
Face's eyes filled with pity for the young girl. After taking a proper look at her, he noticed she was much younger than he'd first thought. She was no more than a child. She saw him looking at her and her face hardened.
"Don't feel sorry for me," she said.
"I don't," said Face. "I understand. I know how you feel."
"You saw your mother die, did you?" asked Maisie, sarcastically.
"No," said Face, softly. "I never knew my mother or my father. I'm an orphan."
"Oh," said Maisie. "Then how do you know how I feel?"
"What day is it?" he asked.
Maisie looked puzzled but replied "Thursday."
"I buried my girlfriend six days ago," said Face. "Kingston had her killed."
"I'm so sorry," said Maisie, feeling guilty about snapping at him. "I had no idea. I knew he was heartless but I never thought he was that evil."
"But you just said he killed your mother."
"Through neglect," said Maisie. "After she married him, he became a monster. He hardly let her out, she stayed in her room most of the time. The few times she dared to venture downstairs, he abused her verbally, calling her names, belittling her in front of his men. Her spirit died first, then her heart, finally her body gave up and she had a heart attack. I was with her when she died. She told me just before she died, that despite everything, she still loved him. He had control of her right until the end. He inherited the house, her money, everything. He had nothing until she died, now he has everything."
"Maisie, I'm so sorry. I wish I knew what to say."
"Just let me help you," she said. "I'm not frightened of him. I don't want to him break you, like he broke my mother."
"He won't," said Face. "But if it makes you feel better."
She smiled and started to clean the wounds on his face. After she had cleaned up his wounds as best she could, she went outside the cell and got a warm blanket. She handed it to Face.
"I must go now," she said. "I'll come back later when you've had some rest. He's gone out so you'll be okay for a while. I promise I'll come back."
Face smiled at her.
"Thank you," he said and she smiled back.
"You're welcome."
She left the cell and locked it behind her. Face wrapped himself up in the blanket and thought about things. So he'd been down here for six days. The others must have noticed he'd gone by now. They must be looking for him but he knew they didn't know where he was. Sleep overcame him and he drifted into silent slumber, his head filled with unanswered questions and a girl called Maisie.
TBC
