CH 3: One More Angel

The pain was unbearable. With each little movement Willie made, the muscles in his body screamed their protest, the sharpness of his teeth gnashing into his bottom lip to the point that he drew blood. As the coppery taste filled his mouth, the servant couldn't help but feel tears form along his lashes over the prospect that he actually might die.

Trying his best to rise from his mattress, Willie gave a pained shout as several kinks in his back popped along with his movements. He was well aware that the pain was nothing compared to what he'd already experienced, yet this notion neither gave him relief nor joy. And Maggie…

Oh, God… What had Barnabas done to Maggie!?

Panicking, Willie somehow managed to forget his pain as he went staggering out into the hallway, his heart pounding hollowly within his ears with each painfully agonizing step.

What if she was hurt? And worse yet, what if she was dead?

Feeling a chill seep inside his bones, Willie entered the basement and went barreling down the stairs, a dizzy haze veiling his eyes as he went shuffling over to Maggie's cell. Seeing her draped over her cot instilled him with a sense of dread, a whimper escaping his throat as he fumbled with the keys and hurriedly entered the room.

"Maggie?" he breathlessly beseeched. "Maggie, are ya alright?"

Going over to her, Willie flinched in surprise the moment she recoiled from his touch, her voice garbled with tears as she begged, "Please don't touch me, Willie…just go away."

Shocked and surprisingly a little hurt, Willie moved to ask what was wrong before he noticed the bluish-gray bruises on her neck. Oh God, he'd gotten to her, too!

Cringing, Willie moved to touch Maggie yet again, but this time she got violent, her arms flailing about as she screeched, "I said don't touch me, Willie Loomis! I don't want to see you or Barnabas, ever again!"

Furious, Willie snarled, "Yeah? W-well fine! Y-y-you can jus' rot in here for all I care, 'c-cause I was jus' tryin' a' help!" With trembling limbs, Willie ripped open the door and moved to slam it shut when he suddenly paused, his shoulders slumping over in accordance with her pathetic sniffling. "Oh, Maggie" he drawled, "please don't cry…I-I'm real sorry he hurtcha, but I promise he won't do it no more, alright?"

"And how can you do that?" Maggie bitterly demanded. "You're not God, you know, so how can you just keep feeding me one lie after another? You promised me you'd help any way that you could, but it seems to me that you're only looking out for your own interests!"

Willie's features hardened. "Oh, yeah? Th-that's how you think this all is, uh?" Thrusting his arm out in front of her, the servant bared his scarred wrist before seething, "This is why I can't help ya, Maggie! This is why I'm forced ta keep ya here day after day, an' night after night, 'cause he controls my every thought an' action! Don'tcha think that if I had the chance, I'd a' taken the first train outta Collinsport?" When Maggie moved to answer, he interrupted, "I tried, Maggie, I really did, but as soon as I got in my truck, I could feel 'im callin' me, an' that was when I knew I could never leave. I didn't sleep a wink that night either, 'cause all I could think about was how I'd be forced ta live the rest a' my life servin' that…that monster an' how I'd never be like I used ta be, again!"

It was with these words that Maggie finally raised her gaze from off the floor, her body trembling as she took in the sight of Willie's bitten wrist, and then the bruised and bloody patches on his face. Placing a hand over her mouth in horror, Maggie felt a sob arise in her throat at the sight of him, two tears rolling down her cheeks like large beads as she slowly shook her head. "Oh, Willie" she whispered, "he's going to kill us, isn't he? He wants us dead because of what happened, I know he does!" Throwing her arms about his waist, she wailed, "Don't let him do it, Willie…please, I beg of you!"

Wordlessly, Willie placed a quivering hand upon her head as she sobbed against his middle, his eyes tearing up once he realized she was right. By some sort of miracle they were still alive, but by nightfall… Willie swallowed. By nightfall, Barnabas would be sure to finish what he'd started.

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When Marilyn entered the Blue Whale, she was greeted by the familiar scent of Newports and booze. The smoke hung thickly in the air and tickled her lungs, yet she found that she rather enjoyed it since it smelled of home.

Making her way up to the bar, Marilyn placed her purse down at her feet before sitting on a barstool, her legs crossing neatly as she turned in order to survey the clientele. "Baldy" was nursing his drink like a fish, "Leather Pants" was repeatedly messing with the jukebox, and "Miss Mini Skirt" was flirting with the bartender amidst her drunken stupor. She had to be inebriated since he was at least twenty years her senior, and the way things were going, the man was quite uncomfortable with her playful teasing.

"Aww, but can't I have jus' one more?" Marilyn overheard her slur. "You think I'm cute, don'tcha? 'Cause I'll get even cuter with the help a' alcohol!"

"I'm afraid that only works with the drinker" he muttered, much to the blonde's chagrin. "I don't know how your mother handles you, Carolyn, but I salute her for it."

"Aww, poo! You're such a stiff, Bob!"

Checking his pulse, he retorted, "Well I beg ta differ, sweetie, 'cause I'm still very much alive."

Smiling at their bantering, Marilyn grabbed her purse before approaching the strange duo, her features only brightening as she greeted, "Hey there! I'm new to these parts, so I was wondering if either of you would be willing to help a girl out?"

Carolyn raised her bleary gaze over toward the intruder, only to break out into an unexpected grin. "Fresh meat, eh? Ha, I'm gonna have fun corruptin' you! Have a seat!"

When Marilyn complied with the blonde's wishes, Bob placed a free drink down at her place before revealing, "If you want the whole scoop on Collinsport, you'd better talk ta my lil' sister – most of it's gossip, a' 'course, but nobody knows it better than her!" Ducking his head into the backroom, he called, "Bethany! There's a woman here ta see ya!"

Within moments, a bright-eyed blonde came sashaying out into the room, a pretty smile on her face and a trashy romance novel under one arm. When Bob pointed toward Marilyn, she nodded before approaching the brunette with a broad grin adorning her lips. "Well hi there!" she greeted. "Are you the new vixen everyone's been talking about? If so, kudos on smacking that Orson Peters – he's such a perve! Grabbed my bum twice, if you'd believe it!"

"I believe it" Marilyn assured her, rolling her eyes at the memory of her first meeting with Orson. "Is everyone in this town so involved in everyone else's business? Everywhere I go, I feel as if I'm a bug under a microscope!"

"You kinda have to get used to it" Carolyn admitted. "We're so small that we like to know our neighbors Marilyn, so…ha! Carolyn and Marilyn…that rhymes!" Giggling over her discovery, Carolyn raised her finger for another shot of whatever poison she was drinking, but Bob chose to ignore her.

Smirking at this, Marilyn turned back to Bethany before asking, "If you know so much about everyone, what can you tell me about Willie Loomis? He's so different, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried…"

"Willie?" Bethany gave a titter before cooing, "You mean that sweet, sensitive man Mr. Collins hired? Oh, he's so shy…I tried leaving him my number on a napkin once, but that was before I remembered Mr. Collins doesn't even own a telephone. I'm so dippy, sometimes!" Leaning against the counter, she devilishly sustained, "All I really wanted to do was call him up and read him a passage from one of my romance novels…I wanted to finally give him a reason to smile, if you know what I mean."

Marilyn felt her cheeks grow hot with indignation, but before she could even say anything, Carolyn was already drunkenly babbling, "Now why wouldja do a thing like that, Beth? Those novels a' yours are so stupid…they're all the same! There's always a description of a "turgid member" or a "pulsating manhood"…I could do better than that!"

Marilyn made a face. "That's so disgusting…"

"Yeah, I know… I don't even know what the hell turgid means!" Carolyn agreed with a giggle.

"Oh, and don't forget about the infamous "tunnel of love"!" Bethany giddily added. "I don't know who came up with those cheesy metaphors, but they are pretty lame."

"Um, I thought we were talking about Willie?" Marilyn irritably reminded them. "It's really important, so if you'd please just –"

"Hon, we are talking about Willie!" Bethany cheerily interrupted. "After all, I wouldn't mind him stickin' his turgid-"

"Shut up!"

Shocked, Bethany and Carolyn watched on as Marilyn seethed, "Don't you ever talk about Willie that way, again, do you hear me!? He's a human being with feelings, not some object to drool over like the tramp you are!" Seizing her purse from off the floor, she bitterly hissed, "And I hope that next time Willie sees you, he'll lose his timidity for once and tell you what's really on his mind!"

Exchanging astonished glances with Bethany, Carolyn barely even had time to think straight as she stumbled after Marilyn with the full intention of stopping her. "Hey, wait!" she called, "Slow down a sec, will ya?"

Far too indignant to turn around, Marilyn finally halted by the wharf, but she kept her back to the heiress. "What do you want?" she practically growled out. "I assume you're here to defend that girl and tell me that she really does care about Willie?"

"No" Carolyn admitted, "but you sure seem to…why is that? I've never met anyone who actually liked him, and I guess I'd just like to know why things are different with you."

Marilyn allowed a ghost of a smile to cross her lips as she bowed her head. "I honestly don't know why it happened, but falling for someone isn't exactly preordained, you know. It just…happens." Finally turning to face her, she asked, "Why so interested? Do you want Willie, too?"

The look that crossed Carolyn's face at that moment was quite comical, an explosion of laughter following suit as she clutched at her sides for support. "Oh God, you're hilarious!" she squealed, clearly still a tad inebriated. "I actually was only interested because I wanted to see you again, and since you have a man, and I'll most definitely be able to get a man, I figured the four of us could go to the swimming hole on Barnabas' property. He won't mind…my cousin David and I do it all the time."

Astounded, but surprisingly not put off by the unexpected offer, Marilyn smiled before warmly agreeing, "I'd like that very much, Carolyn…thank you."

"You're schmelcome!"

Laughing, Marilyn took the heiress by the arm before urging, "C'mon, let's get you back inside before you pass out."

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When Marilyn arrived at the Old House, it was frightfully dark, her eyes squinting as she egressed her car and made her way up to the front porch.

"Willie? Hello?"

Rapping anxiously against the double doors, Marilyn waited a moment before realizing that the house was virtuously lifeless, her lips screwing downward in disappointment as she realized, 'Nobody's home…he said he'd meet me! But then, perhaps he's upstairs and can't hear me knocking?'

A newfound hope erupting within her at this thought, Marilyn pushed open the doors and crossed the threshold, her eyes taking in the dim, candlelit space with wonder.

"Willie?" she called yet again. "Willie, sweetie, are you home?"

A tremendous crash sounded in response, Marilyn whirling toward the source of the noise before discovering a heavy metal door. Her heart still pumping madly with adrenaline, she found herself approaching the basement despite her better judgment, her voice cracking with fear as she called Willie's name yet again.

When she still received no response, Marilyn opened the door and began tiptoeing down the steps, a glorious smile overtaking her features once she spotted the shadowed figure at the foot of the stairs. "Oh, Willie" she breathed, "you frightened me! Didn't you hear me knocking?" When he didn't answer her, she laughed before teasing, "Awful silent tonight, aren't we? That's alright…it's been a long evening, and I think I'd rather you just hold me, anyway."

Eagerly making her way down the steps, Marilyn moved to embrace him when a hand came forward and gripped her fiercely by the throat…

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Cursing, Willie maneuvered his grocery bags into the foyer before practically spilling the produce all over the carpet, his frustration only mounting when he tripped and went sprawling out in front of the open basement door.

Wait…why was the basement door open? He'd made sure to shut it before he left!

Fearing Maggie had escaped, Willie scrambled back up to his feet before pushing past the threshold and stumbling down the stairs, his skin prickling with nausea at the sight that welcomed him. At first he thought the dark curls and lithe, prostrate form belonged to the Josette-esque Maggie Evans, but he soon realized that it wasn't her, but…

"Marilyn!"

Racing forward on unsteady legs, Willie flipped her over before giving a gasp, an agonized moan escaping his lips as he stared down into her unblinking eyes. When he placed his hands on her shoulders, he let out a wail, only now discovering that there were two puncture wounds on the slim curve of her neck. Streaks of blood had matted some of the loose strands of hair against her face, and even more droplets had managed to seep into the high collar of her paisley mini-dress. Roving his petrified gaze across her features, he discovered that her lips were slightly parted, yet were as pale and unmoving as the rest of her.

Feeling tears burning along his lashes, Willie released a horrid sob and wrested Marilyn protectively against his chest, his fingers gently stroking her hair as he rocked her back and forth as though she were a small child.

"Marilyn" he whimpered, "oh God, I toldja ta go back, I toldja!"

As Willie buried his face against the crook of her neck, it suddenly occurred to him that there would be no more laidback conversations over coffee, no more idle afternoons in front of the TV, no more Marilyn, period.

Reaching into his pocket with a shaking hand, Willie then extracted a handkerchief before diligently scrubbing at the blood on his lover's skin. It had to come off…it just had to!

Blinking past his wall of unshed tears, Willie barely even had time to react the moment a hand came down and roughly yanked him to his feet, his sorrow so great that he didn't even respond to the sudden appearance of Barnabas' stony visage.

"Where were you?" he hotly demanded.

"Th-the store" Willie mumbled, his head bowing as he refused to meet with his master's gaze. "I-I was gettin' groceries for me an' Maggie, that's all…"

"And in so doing left me wide open to potential threat – what were you thinking!?" When Willie didn't answer, Barnabas seized him by the throat before giving him a good shake, his voice coarse and rough as he growled, "Stop your mute idiocy and make yourself useful – I want you to find a spot and bury that girl in the woods."

Willie's bottom lip trembled. "B-b-but Barnabas, Marilyn don't deserve that, she deserves a nice, proper…"

"Do as I say!"

Bowing his head, Willie didn't even feel the tears as they streamed down his cheeks, his eyes lowering as he gave a nod and bent over in order to retrieve Marilyn's body. She was beautiful even in death – to Willie she looked like a curly-haired angel…a curly-haired, bloody angel.

Hiccupping amidst his tears, Willie held Marilyn close as he ascended the stairs, his veins pumping with the poison of revenge as he inwardly swore that Barnabas would pay.

A/N: Poor Willie…can'tcha tell that I love torturing him:)