Chapter 5

Present

BANG!

Charlie's eyes flew open. Somebody had turned on the light and loud music boomed by the closed door. He figured he'd probably only dropped off briefly as his clothing was still wet, but the noise was not the reason why he'd woken. He had the feeling that something in his body was different. The blood pounded in his ears and his heart raced as if he just had finished a marathon. He grasped the iron rail of the bed and straightened up, his movements nervous and trembling despite the fact that he wasn't cold. His mind was spinning as he got to his feet. He was in the middle of his prison and even with the loud music he thought he could hear a scraping, gnawing noise. Rats! A shadow darted behind him and he whirled around. Squeaking and mincing patters of small feet reached his ears. He started turning in circles, his hands outstretched. He began to panic and his pulse almost tripled its normal rate. It seemed impossible to calm down.

"Charlie!" a woman's voice called, "Charlieeeeeeeee!"

He turned. She sat on the bed, her hair a wild tangle and her eyes sunken hollows in her face. She wore the dress which her husband had chosen for her burial. Charlie had seen it, although Alan didn't know that at the time. Charlie bent his head to one side and tried to focus – not an easy task.

"Mom?" he yelped. "Mom… is that you?"

Suddenly she was standing in front of him. He could smell her foul breath.

"Charlie, my little boy." Her voice sounded strange. "You will stay here forever. Don won't find you… nobody will because you're with me." She lifted her hand and ran partly decomposed fingers through his curly hair. "I am all that you have now."

"No!" Charlie yelled, recoiling. "You're lying! Don… Don will ..."

"What? You think he has nothing better to do than look for you? Stupid little boy." She laughed out loud. "Do you really think you're the centre of the universe and everyone has to care about you?"

"Go away!" he shouted.

She shook her head, tufts of hair falling to the ground. "I can't do that. Remember… you asked me to come back and here I am."

Charlie felt the cold concrete against his back. His chest heaved as he started to hyperventilate.

His mother's voice echoed in his head, calling his name over and over. Charlie began to think he was losing his mind. "No… I do not want to talk to you. Please…" His voice trailed off.

Once more she reached out for him and touched his face.

He shook his head. "No, please stop. Please." He buried his face in his hands and slipped down the rough wall to the ground. Charlie could feel the concrete biting into his skin, gouging deep furrows into his back but oddly enough there was no pain. Only numbing cold. Suddenly his helplessness changed into uncontrollable rage.

Charlie jumped to his feet. "Why'd you leave me, Mom? Why weren't you there for me? You died and left me alone! You have no right to be here."

"Of course I do… you called me, Charlie. Don't you remember? You wrote a letter to God and asked him to send me back to you," his mother objected.

Tears poured down Charlie's cheeks as he shook his head. "How could you know that? I wrote that letter four months after your death and then burned it in the garden. I almost burned down the tool-shed. I never told anyone about it… nobody knows."

"I do," she smirked. "Don't you remember what Donnie told you? 'Mom is up there watching us, seeing everything we do'."

Charlie cried out in anguish.

The music ceased.

"What's going on in there?" the woman demanded.

She'd suddenly appeared behind the guy in the battledress. He turned his head away from the door, a smile frozen on his lips.

"I have no idea, Delinda," he answered, frightened.

"Let me look," she pushed him aside and peered into the narrow slit.

"He's completely out of his mind", the man said. "He talks about his mom continually."

"How high was the dose you gave him?"

"Ask Patrick, he poured it into the water."

Delinda turned. "Then get him here."

"He went into town to find something for dinner."

Charlie was still screaming. Suddenly he clenched his left hand into a fist and smashed it against the wall. The sound of bones cracking was clear but he didn't seem to be registering any pain.

"Unlock this door immediately!" Delinda commanded.

"But..."

"Unlock the damned door! Eppes is about to kill himself."

They went in without masks this time. Charlie was drugged anyway, and wouldn't be able to remember their faces. As they reached for Charlie he began to fight, kicking and clawing in an effort to get away. Finally Charlie's torturers got the upper hand, pushing him onto the bed and handcuffing his healthy arm to the bed frame.

"Get some bandages," the woman snapped, sitting astride Charlie to keep him pinned down.

The other man tossed a first aid kit on the bed. "Here! Strickler didn't say anything about helping this guy out."

Delinda cast him a withering glance. "Strickler also didn't have Adrian's permission for using drugs."

"As far as I know he only put some crystals into the water," the guard protested. "He told me he was just fooling around and the guy certainly wouldn't get harmed."

"Then what do you call this, Xavier?" She held up Charlie's blood-smeared hand.

"It could have been his head. Just because Strickler smokes crystal meth, it doesn't make him an expert. He's a user. That bullshit is so unpredictable… like a load of nitroglycerine."

Patrick Strickler entered the underground dungeon, frowning at the uncharacteristic silence. He put the shopping bags on the table and then crossed to the open door leading to Charlie's prison. He smirked at the sight of Delinda sitting on Charlie, tending to his injuries.

"Delinda, darling… you're not having sex with our professor, are you?"

She turned to look at him. "Shut the fuck up, Strickler. Your 'experiment' has gone wrong. We almost lost him."

Strickler leaned casually against the door frame and folded his arms. " Who cares? I don't think Adrian will let him go anyway."

Delinda finished and packed the dressing material away. "Once more you're wrong. Adrian has never killed an innocent."

Strickler threw his head back and moaned, "Oh no. You're not giving me a lecture about good and evil now? I have absolutely no clue why you believe Craven and his stories. There are no demons, Delinda. Those are fantasies."

"You didn't know my brother," she retorted hotly. "You have no idea what it was like when that demon seized Michael's body and turned him into an evil creature."

"I'd say your brother couldn't handle the dirty games your father liked to play with both of you and turned into a psycho," Strickler grinned. His head rocked back as Delinda slapped his face.

"Keep your mouth shut before I forget myself. Adrian's exorcism for Michael was successful and he cured me." She pulled open the top of her blouse, exposing soft skin covered by scars in the shape of little crosses. "I would have been lost without him."

Strickler took a deep breath. "Darling, you forgot to mention that Michael paid for his salvation with his life… and those scars didn't make you prettier, either."

She spat into his face. "If Adrian were here he'd turn you into a pillar of fire. I don't doubt that. And then he would send you to hell."

Strickler pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his face. "But Adrian isn't here," he replied. "And as far as I know I'm the one who tells you what to do. You are merely an observer, Delinda. Behave like one."

Charlie moaned loudly. Delinda turned to him but Strickler caught her wrist. "Don't you dare help him any more."

He then turned to Xavier, who had been standing motionless next to Charlie the whole time. "And now show me what I've missed. I'll send the best pictures to the FBI later. Maybe that'll make them get on with this case." Delinda offered only weak resistance when Strickler dragged her out of the room. Xavier closed the door behind them and switched off the light.

The two men disappeared next door to watch the video recording. Delinda preferred to stay close to Charlie, leaning her head against the cold steel door. She knew that what they were doing was wrong, but she was used to serving Adrian and had been doing so since she was twelve. He also trained her. Although she did not have his abilities, he had managed to sharpen her instincts. She often helped Adrian in tracking down evil.

However her mentor had always done the dirty work himself. At the time, Michael was also given the choice to follow him but had decided against it. The demon in him had probably grown too strong. Charlie reminded her of Michael in many ways. The curly hair, for instance. Michael's had been blonde, though. He also radiated gentleness and innocence until the demon seized his body. She'd not been able to save Michael. Perhaps she could save Charlie although that would mean going against Adrian. Tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn't believe God would force her to choose between Charlie and Adrian. tbc