Marcus was trembling his eyes flicking around. "Where is he? Where is that bastard?"
Marissa swallowed hard "Who?"
"Who?" He mimicked "that bastard that maimed my brother you silly bitch! I heard him! Where is he?"
Her breath came out in a puff and she raised her hands up "I..I..I don't know where Brahms is I've been looking for him all day myself."
The gun was moved closer and she automatically backed up trembling. "I don't care about the doll! I want the bastard your hiding here!"
She stared at him blankly trying to find something to say to distract him.
Abruptly she was grabbed and thrown to the floor her teeth clacking together painfully. Her arms were pulled behind her and she groaned.
"Where is he? Where's the fucking son of a bitch!?" Marcus cried angrily.
She squirmed trying to put herself in a position to kick him in the nuts. Maybe she could wrestle the gun away. Marcus was a skinny shit and she might have a good chance.
"What...I don't..."
"Where is he?" He demanded "Where is that bastard?"
"Marcus have you lost your damn mind? Get off me!" She bucked trying to throw him off getting angry now. He grimly held on. "I ain't here to 'hurt ya." I just want to bash Brahms fucking head in."
"I don't know where the doll is!"
He didn't like hearing that and he let go of her arms to wrap his hands around her throat. So much for not hurting her.
"My brothers lame he said some arse dressed like Brahms did it. I'm gonna trounce that son of a bitch!"
She tried to take in a breath.
"I don't know where it is! Let me go you bastard! Get off!" She sputtered.
He grabbed her by her hair and jerked her head up so he could hiss in her ear "I ain't going to jail for no murder but Just hurting ya a little bit doesn't mean a lot of time." He reached behind him and placed the gun in his waistband and when she saw his hand again he had a switch blade in it. There was a snick as the blade popped up.
"Last chance before - what the Hell?!"
He was lifted off her which gave her a chance to breathe. She rolled over and a cold chill snaked down her spine. Marcus was being held up high enough that his feet kicked at nothing but air. The man who was holding him had dark curls, broad shoulders and clothes that didn't fit. She couldn't see his front but his hands looked strong and pegged him as a relatively young man. She started scooting away and his head swung around so he could pin her with intense green eyes that blazed like emeralds. She couldn't dwell on that though because his mask left her riveted. That cracked porcelain mask. She'd know that face anywhere.
"Brahms?" She scooted back a bit more until her back was against a solid surface. He snarled at her before returning his attention to Marcus who was going blue. He stepped away from the wall and simply slung the unfortunate man away from him. Marcus Scrambled for the gun. His aim was wild but the boom drove Brahms back with a cry of pain. Blood blossomed on his shoulder opening a red flower that dripped down the green cardigan.
Marissa tackled Marcus trying to knock him off his feet. He twisted around stumbling.
"Bitch!" He aimed the gun at her and she dunked whimpering. His feet came to the lip of the stairs and he stumbled back teetering before he lost his footing and fell down it. There was another muffled boom as the gun went off again.
For a moment Marissa thought she'd been shot. It was hard to breathe. The pain would hit her any moment and she would die. She peeked down the steps and saw Marcus on his stomach. His gun hand seemed to be under him and there was an ever widening pool of blood spreading around him. He lay still while Marissa brought her knees up too scared to move for a moment. Brahms towered over her his shapeless green cardigan brushing against her. She couldn't seem to take her eyes away from the mask.
There was a gasp as she realized she was holding her breath.
She glanced at Marcus and winced. "Is he dead?"
"I told you, I told! You left and you broke the rules!" The voice was the little boys voice that had laughed and giggled and made her believe in spirits. He clapped his hands gleefully.
It was horrifying now.
"Oh God, I have to...I have to call the police."
Brahms knelt down in front of her and she squeezed back pressing her back harder against the wall and throwing one hand up to ward him off.
"Ok, ok, easy Brahms..please..don't hurt me..."
He reached out to her and she turned her head away from him trying to stop whimpering but whimpering anyway. He placed his hand on the side of her face and dragged his thumb up her cheek. Seeming to like that he began sweeping his thumb back and forth along her face.
She told herself he wasn't that big, big yes, but his hand really wasn't so large he could crush her head as if it were a grape. It really wasn't. It just felt that way. She peeked at him from the corner of her eye.
He was breathing hard studying her. With his face covered she couldn't tell what he might be thinking. As her eyes skipped over him taking note of his ragged appearance. Thick curly hair flopped over his mask and framed his face. A thick beard poking out from under the mask, black curly hair on his chest where his skin was exposed because the shirt was to small. She wrinkled her nose up. He was grimy. Not grimy enough to have never bathed just grimy like she sometimes became when she had been too depressed to take care of herself sometimes for as long as two months. she realized he was bleeding. Her hand trembled as she pointed at his shoulder. Before she got to close he roughly grabbed her hand. He gave hard squeeze painful enough to make her gasp.
"No I'm not, I'm not gonna touch it Brahms but your bleeding. You need a hospital."
He began shaking his head harder and harder as she pleaded with him "You probably need stitching! You can't just slap a band aid on that! The bullet probably still in there."
He was breathing hard the mask moving with the force of his breath. He tried to look at his shoulder. He impatient plunged one finger into the hole digging at it.
"Oh my God!" She turned away feeling her gorge rise. How the hell was he not screaming with pain? He wasn't though just grunting sounding annoyed finally he pulled out the bullet and glared at it before shoving it into his pocket.
"Let's play!"
"Brahms." she said shakily "I need to ah...take care of your boo boo." She flushed feeling a bit stupid but she got his attention.
"Please?" She needed to think. This situation felt dangerous and she was afraid if she didn't get away she'd be stuck here forever. Brahms pondered it for a moment then stood up hauling her up with him. He dragged her to the kitchen opened a cupboard that had been almost beyond her reach and pulled out an first aide kit. The second the he put on the table made her groan softly. A small bottle of whisky. He dropped the items on the table and pulled the chair out so he could sit. He curled his hands under the seat and began bouncing his knee. He jiggled with impatience
"Hold still." She said sliding his cardigan off. She paused while standing behind him. There was heavy burn tissue that started on his shoulder and disappeared under his shirt. She made note of that. They said Brahms hadn't got out. Which meant any wounds he had had never been properly treated. She held the gauze and dumped the whisky on it. He grunted but payed no mind other wise. The hole was little ragged from where he had dug at it and she threaded the needle to stitch it while she looked around inconspicuously as possible.
Could she hit him over the head? No she had a feeling she might be signing her own death certificate if she misjudged and didn't knock him out. A knife? Remembering the thin flimsy steak knifes almost made her laugh. Again if she didn't strike a fatal blow he would most likely break her neck. Her hands were shaky but she managed to make three stitches. He kept trying to bounce in the chair like a boy impatient to go outside and sh had to demand he hold still several times.
"Ok Brahms, ah why don't I go and empty the traps?"
She had no sooner turned away from him then he was out of the chair and shoving her until she sat on the table in front of him. His hands were squeezing her arms.
"Marissa not leave." He chirped.
"Brahms of course I won't leave..." He squeezed her harder making her wince. His voice lost that sweet childish tone and became deeper more raspy.
"You're not leaving. You're not leaving me! You're not!"
"Ok...ok Brahms. Ah we need to get the police to get the body." He relaxed and stepped back from her. She slid off the table trying to pull her dress down where it had hiked up. He watched her like a hawk. He tapped his fingers together and shook his head.
"No bobbies."
"Brahms, someone is going to come looking for him. You do understand that right?"
He swung his head too glance out the door to where Marcus body was still visible.
"No Bobbies." He said again his voice deeper and impatient.
She'd have to wing this and try to get to a phone without him and call the police. Or maybe she'd be better to wait until he was asleep and sneak out. Suddenly he seized her and began pulling her behind him his steps long and eager. She stumbled trying to keep up. He went to closet into his room and pressed the back of it making it pop open.
Jesus God he's been in the walls this whole time!
Marissa tried to back pedal not wanting to go into the tunnel but she was no match against Brahms. He simply tightened his hold and dragged her in behind him.