Shattered Paradise
Chapter 10: A Living Nightmare
Slowly, she was remembering. It was a dream, it had to be…
The phone. I love you, Michael. I love you. She had said it, but he couldn't hear. The phone had gone dead. She had wanted to call him back, but…
That's when the door had flung open. That's when her paradise had disappeared. Swallowed up down the dark barrel of a gun; the gun pointed at her, at her baby. Burned away by the icy sparkle in his eyes. Shattered by his laugh, high pitched and piercing.
She had dropped the phone, heard it crash against the floor. She had raised her hands above her head, surrendering, giving in, to him, to everything. Don't hurt my baby, please don't hurt my little baby…
But hadn't cared that she had given in. He had pulled the trigger anyway.
One shot. Point blank range. She could still hear it echoing in her ears.
There should have been blood, red and sticky, painting the floor crimson, splattered against the walls, the furniture, everything. She should have been dead. But tranquilizer darts aren't that kind; they entail danger, torture, pain. She thought for a moment, that a bullet would have been better, would have been kinder…
It was a dream. It had to be. Please…
She opened her eyes, praying to find herself in her room, in Michael's arms. Instead, she found that her nightmare had not yet come to an end. The room. That room. The sun was peeking in through a crack in between the curtains, but it was still the same. It was still horrific. It was that room, the very one where… Oh, God, no…
She closed her eyes again and tried to force herself to wake up, squeezing her eyes tightly shut and then slowly opening them. It was only when she cried out for Michael, and found that he wasn't beside her that she truly let herself remember, that she let it sink in.
No…No, no, no…
That's when she began to cry. The tears slow and unfair and angry, burning their way down her cheeks.
And Michael wasn't there to hold her, to comfort her. He wasn't there to tell her that it was going to be all right. He wasn't there to kiss away her tears. She would have to dry them herself. And she did, wiping them away hurriedly, angrily. She hadn't wanted to cry, not when she knew that he could walk into the room at any moment.
She instinctively brought a hand down to her stomach, but she knew that it wouldn't be enough to protect the little baby that was there. She and Michael had been so close…so close. They had almost had everything, everything they would ever need.
They already had each other. They already had trust and love. All they had needed was someone to share it with, someone to watch over and to show what was right. They had almost had their little baby, their family. Everything had almost been perfect.
Now all that, all of it, the love, the happiness, the family, all of it, could be taken away. In the blink of an eye; the squeezing of a trigger; the flash of a knife, cold steel running over her body, mixing unmercifully with the fire of the wounds it inflicted…
She shivered and wrapped her arms tightly around her, but even that didn't help. It was so cold, so cold. Frost and ice and snow, blue and white, breath crystallizing in the air, tears freezing as they made their way down her cheeks…
It seemed to know that something was wrong. Her little baby seemed to understand that its mommy needed its help. It kicked her, adding a flicker of warmth and hope to the desperate situation, thawing the ice, melting the snow, like a ray of sunshine on a desolate winter's day.
She knew that as long as she had her little baby with her, everything would somehow be okay. She didn't know how, but she let herself think that it would, let herself hope, let herself dream. She slowly and quietly moved to the window, cautiously opening the curtains and letting the sun warm her. It would be alright, it would be alright…
The view was a surprise, not the barren desert that she had expected. It was a city, filled with buildings and people. They were too far away for her to see clearly, for she had expected to be gazing out of a second story window and found herself instead to be at least ten floors up.
The scenery was still that of a desert, however, brown and dry and dirty, so that didn't mean that she wasn't still in Cairo, or at least still in Egypt. That didn't mean that Vaughn wouldn't be able to find her. Please, don't let it mean that, please…
There was a sudden rustling in the room, and Sydney quickly turned, almost scared to see what was behind her, expecting to see him. Instead, she found a young woman, no she wasn't a woman, she was no more than a girl. The poor little creature stared up at her with wide eyes, her body scrawny and dirty, scantily clad in clothing that was no more than heap of rags.
"Where are we?" Sydney whispered, in English, Arabic, and any other language she thought this girl might understand. "Please…"
But the girl didn't answer, her eyes speaking of nothing but sadness, holding no clues to either the answer to Sydney's question, or the fact as to why she wasn't responding. Instead, the girl held up a small tray with her thin hands, lifting it so that it was almost eye-level.
On it was a drink of some sort, and a covered bowl. The girl said nothing, the look in her eyes enough to tell Sydney that whatever was in that bowl was for her, her evening meal, no doubt.
Sydney opened it carefully, almost afraid to see what type of food that monster had prepared for her. Inside, the bowl was filled to the brim with tiny circles, all the same, all shining. It took her a moment to realize what they were.
M&M's. Red M&M's. Michael never ate the red ones. Never. And that bastard knew it. He knew, he knew…
In a flash of red anger that matched the somehow hideous color of the candy, Sydney picked up the bowl and flung it. The color-coated pieces skittered around the room in a sudden shower. So there was the rain, all she needed now was the thunder and lightning, but those would be quick in coming, she knew. Both with her rising anger, and his inevitable approach…
The girl's eyes grew wide, but she expressed no other reaction to Sydney's sudden outburst. She placidly knelt down and began to pick up the M&M's, the candy pieces plinking softly as one by one, she placed them in the bowl.
"I'm sorry," Sydney murmured, kneeling down to help her. "I'm so sorry…"
The girl didn't say anything, not even looking up to acknowledge Sydney's apology.
Sydney wondered if the girl's lack of speaking was due merely to miscommunication, or something else, something deeper. Before she could voice this question, however, a harsh, revolting sound reached her ears.
"Ah, Miss Bristow."
She froze, her face cast downward. That voice was shards of ice and the fires of hell all swirled and molded into one. It was the voice she could have never forgotten, no matter how hard she tried. A chill ran down her spine to the depths of her soul, causing her to shiver.
He saw it and laughed. God, how she wished she couldn't hear. She would give anything to never again have to listen to that cruel, revolting laughter. She wanted to cry, but wouldn't let him have the satisfaction. Instead, she stood up, and spoke with an icy fire that matched his.
"That's not my name anymore."
Sydney was fighting not to let the tears escape, not to let a scream rip itself from her lips, not to run, as fast and as far as she could… The girl, however, hadn't seemed to notice that that man was in the room. She continued quietly picking up the candy, only looking up when Sydney stood, and quickly turning her gaze back down and returning to her task. That sickly musical, yet harshly grating voice had no effect on her, drew no reaction whatsoever.
"It is when you're with me, my dear," Fahim responded, raising an eyebrow and drawing closer. "For as far as I'm concerned, Mr. Vaughn was never anything more than your handler…"
And this almost made her break down, almost made her forget that she didn't want to cry. The tears were stinging her eyes. Michael was so much more than just her handler. So much, so much… But of course this sick son of a bitch could never understand that. Never.
"…You didn't enjoy the candy, I see. I would think that you would be used to eating so many of the red ones since your dear Agent Vaughn never touched them…"
Sydney noticed that the girl had stood up and backed away when Fahim had come closer, when she could see his dusty boots crunching on the candy. Fear glittered in her dark eyes, matching that which Sydney hoped she was able mask in her own.
He was right next to her now, his closeness disgustingly putrid. His lips were moving, and she knew that sound was coming from them, but she couldn't hear the words, she didn't want to. She would just let her mind drift, taking her away from this nightmare, this hell…
But then his slimy fingers were running up and down her arm. And she couldn't block that out, she just couldn't. It was like trying to ignore a snake slowly twining its way around your neck, tighter and tighter, until…
"Stop it," she hissed, angrily slapping his hand away.
"Don't worry, my dear," he laughed, his eyes twinkling. "We won't take things too far…"
No, they wouldn't. She wouldn't let him, not this time. Not like in her dream. She wouldn't, she wouldn't…
"…I can content myself with Shadya for the time being." With those words, he gestured to the girl and she quickly but reluctantly approached him.
He pulled the girl roughly so that she was standing directly in front of him, facing Sydney. With one hand, he reached down to fondle one of her breasts through the thin material of her shirt, while the other pulled her long hair away from her neck to allow his lips room to make a slimy path from her ear to her shoulder.
The girl said nothing, a single tear escaping and slowly making its way down her cheek, her sad eyes speaking volumes, spinning tales of abuse and misery.
"Don't let him do this to you," Sydney whispered, not sure whether she was speaking more to the girl or herself. "Don't…"
Fahim laughed, his lips still pressed against the girl's neck. "She can't hear you," he said, giving the girl's neck a long, lavish lick, laughing cruelly when she shivered.
He pulled away and turned the girl so that she was facing him. "Isn't that right, my pet?" he said, placing a finger underneath her chin and tilting it upward.
The girl didn't answer, and he smiled at Sydney, an evil, twisted smirk. He said something to the girl using a string of crude gestures, his sorry attempt at some type of sign language, and she quickly ran from the room.
"You see?" he asked, watching the girl leave. "Now, Shadya's not as…pleasurable as you, my dear, but she will do for the time being." He glanced down at Sydney's stomach and smiled. "Until our child is born, of course, and all uncomfortable obstacles are out of the way…"
Our child, our child, our child…
"What the hell are you talking about?" Sydney asked, her voice no more than a whisper. It had been over a year since he had done that to her. There was no way in hell this child was his.
Fahim's eyes sparkled, unspoken laughter lurking in them, playing there as well as on his lips. "You owe me that much, don't you agree, my dear? After all, in days gone by, the act of "mating" was solely for the production of offspring."
He paused, smirking. Sydney was too shocked to speak. She didn't know what to say.
"What would you have done, I wonder," Fahim mused, "had our coupling begotten a child?" He brought a hand up to stroke his chin, deep in thought. "You probably would have killed it, no doubt…"
"No," Sydney managed to whisper. She didn't know why she had interrupted him, why she had answered him that way. The child would have been half his, after all…
But it would have been hers too, there was no way in hell she could have killed her own child, her own little baby…
"Really?" Fahim smirked, amused. "It's not that I would blame you if you did. What would you have done with my child, then?"
"It wouldn't have been yours," Sydney answered automatically, not knowing where her responses were coming from. "It would have never known you, never heard your name. It would have been mine and Michael's…"
"But it wouldn't have been your Michael's child," Fahim interrupted, waving a finger at her. "That wouldn't have been fair to me, now would it?"
Sydney moved her mouth to speak, but had lost her voice again. Who was he to talk about being fair?
"It doesn't matter, my sweet, not right now," he laughed, harsh and grating against her ears. "Don't trouble yourself over the answer. We will have plenty of time to discuss such matters as these."
"No," Sydney said firmly, finding her voice again, and shaking her head. No, no, no… "Michael will come. You'll see; he'll take care of you. He knows where your compound is…" She trailed off and walked toward the window, glancing out, as if searching for Michael outside, wishing he were there, wishing he would swoop down and save her, her guardian angel…
"Don't worry, my dear. I had no doubts that your "Michael" would be at my compound in Cairo as soon as he could find a flight there… Which is precisely why we're not anywhere near my compound… Or Cairo for that matter."
A sharp intake of air, cold and shocking, choking her. She gasped for air, her lungs on fire. A flurry of coughs racked her body, making her fight her breath. How would Michael ever find her now? Oh God, what would she do…
Finally, she caught her breath, made peace with the fact that she wouldn't have such an easy escape this time, that she would have to find her own way out, that there was so much more at stake now than there ever had been before.
Fahim was leaning against the doorway, waiting. He grinned when she finally looked up at him, her chest heaving. "You wouldn't have hesitated to take my child from me, my sweet," he began, "And to return the favor, I will not hesitate to take your Mr. Vaughn's child from him. I have already taken you from him, have I not?"
No, no, no, nononononononono… This wasn't happening. It wasn't. It couldn't be. Everything that she had worked so hard for, everything that she had fought for, everything that she had lived for. It was falling down around her, shattered into tiny pieces, broken almost beyond repair…
Fahim snickered, finding amusement in the fear that had finally made its way into her eyes. "I hope our baby has your eyes," he said, turning and closing the door.
And when he said that, and she heard the lock turning in the door…that was when she gave in to her emotions, when she started to cry. The tears filled her eyes, and she couldn't keep them in any longer. One big, lazy drop made its way down her cheek and others quickly followed, tracing the path of the first, and making their own. She didn't try to wipe them away, she didn't want to.
Sydney turned back to the window and gazed out. "Michael…" she whispered through her tears. "I love you…"
She brought her fingertips to her lips and kissed them, holding them out the window and letting her sweet kiss float on the soft breeze and find its way to Michael on the wind…
Thanks for still helping me with names, and for all the great reviews. Sorry this took so long, but I've been at orientation for the past few days, and now school has finally started. Please review and make my day. This is my first day of classes and I think I'm going to need a little pick me up when I get back. Thanks for bearing with me so far. Hopefully it won't be too too long before I can get up the next chapter.