Disclaimer: I, HeraOxEyes, do hereby acknowledge that I have no legal claim to the copyrighted material called Labyrinth. The use of said material is done so without the express permission of Brian Henson and is done for the sole purpose of entertaining myself and (hopefully) others. I solemnly swear that I receive no monetary recompense from the aforementioned usage of the previously listed material.
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Chapter 4:
"Come on, Merlin. Get in here, boy!" Sarah held open the door that connected the garage to the laundry room, tapping a hand against her thigh. The old dog wasted no time in accepting the invitation, rushing up the small set of wooden stairs, almost knocking her over as he lumbered past. Her fastidious stepmother, who disliked having the animal in the house, would likely throw a fit if she found out, but Sarah didn't care. Karen wasn't home. She and her father were attending some charity benefit, their third time out that week. And, as usual, Sarah was left at home to babysit.
Sarah didn't mind watching Toby... not anymore. The fear of losing him had made her realize how much she truly loved the little boy. And with no friends to make plans with, it wasn't as if she had anything better to do. She was simply bothered by the frequency of her parents' absences. Recently, it had become an every-other-day occurrence. It just didn't seem right to her that they spent so little time at home with her younger brother.
Tired from their trip to the zoo, Toby lay on a thick mat on the family room floor, quietly coloring pictures in a superhero activity book. When the shaggy-haired sheepdog entered the room, the little boy's face lit up with excitement. " C'mere, Merlin," he called, patting the carpeted floor beside him. The dog eagerly went to the boy, settling himself down with a contented huff. Abandoning his book and crayons, Toby rolled closer to the dog, stroking his fuzzy head and back.
"Remember, Tobe... this is our secret, o.k.? Your mom would be mad if she knew that I'd let him inside," Sarah warned as she hunched down beside him, ruffling first his hair and then Merlin's.
"I know. I won't tell," Toby promised with a giggle, delighted by the wet tongue that was eagerly bathing his cheek. In a rare display of playfulness, the old dog flopped over on his back, wriggling and grunting as he bumped the boy, angling for a belly rub. Toby laughed, running his pudgy hand over the large, furry stomach. Whenever the boy's hand brushed across a particularly sensitive spot near his side, the dog would twitch and kick his hind legs, amusing her brother even more. Sarah smiled at the adorable pair, glad that they were enjoying themselves.
Leaving them to their play, Sarah went to the kitchen, beginning the routine clean-up of the dinner mess. She cleared the dishes from the antique oaken table, stacking them neatly on the counter near the dishwasher. Armed with a spray bottle of cleaner and a soft rag, she wiped down the table and the booster seat that sat on one of the spindle-backed chairs. After giving the ceramic tile floor a quick sweep with the broom, she loaded the dishes into the washer and began its cycle. Filling the sink with hot, sudsy water, Sarah washed the bulkier items by hand, scrubbing away the dried, crusty residue with a scouring pad.
As she worked, a disgruntled Sarah couldn't help but drift off into one of her fantasies. She imagined herself as a beautiful, pampered princess, one who never had to suffer through tiresome, menial labor such as this. An entire staff of maids and liveried footmen would see to her every need. Her life would be one of luxury and leisure. Dressed in exquisite gowns and costly jewels, she would spend her days surrounded by a bevy of admiring courtiers. These noble companions would dote on her, fascinated by her clever wit and charm. Awed by her peerless beauty, the handsome Lords of the court would vie for her attention, composing lovely poems in her honor...
No, she decided. That wasn't right. Poems seemed to pale in comparison to song. The besotted gentlemen would sing to her, songs of love and devotion. A sizable lump formed in her throat as her wayward thoughts triggered the memories she tried so hard to forget... memories of that magical evening when a fair and golden king had sang such a song for her. Why did her restless mind always return to those particular memories? Would she ever be able to put the past behind her, or would it haunt her for the rest of her days?
Sarah shook her head, feeling more than a little pathetic. She had to stop living in her whimsical fantasy world. She was technically an adult now, and such pursuits were best left to her childhood. She gathered up the dirty napkins and dish towels and headed for the laundry room. Placing the load in the washing machine, she added a small amount of soap and closed the lid. With a few turns of the various controls, the machine came to life with a noisy hum. Grabbing a wicker basket off of the utility shelf, Sarah emptied the dryer and made her way back to the family room. Seated on a velvet-upholstered ottoman, Sarah folded the still-warm clothes as she watched television with her brother.
An hour later, after bathing him and dressing him in his favorite Spiderman pajamas, she carried Toby to his bedroom and tucked him in for the night. At three and a half, he had outgrown the crib he used to sleep in, now preferring a small, plastic toddler bed molded in the shape of a fire engine. Ten minutes into his bedtime story, his eyes closed in sleep. " Goodnight, Tobe," Sarah whispered. She pulled the colorful comforter up to his chin and gave him a feather-light kiss on his forehead before turning off his bedside lamp. She quietly stepped out into the hall, leaving the door ajar behind her.
Crossing the hallway to her own room, she grabbed her novel before heading back downstairs to the family room. Switching off the television as she passed, Sarah collapsed onto the plush sofa, curling up against the thickly-padded armrest. Opening her book to the place where she had left off that morning, she began to read, Merlin settling himself at her feet. The house was silent around her, amplifying the soft, insistent ticking of the grandfather clock that sat in the corner across from her. A glimpse at the clock showed the time to be half-past nine. She would have at least another two or three hours before her parents returned, rosy and flushed from the numerous cocktails they were currently consuming.
Engrossed in the perilous adventure of the heroine in her novel, Sarah lost track of time and reality, her attention devoted solely to the beautiful Princess Buttercup and her heroic Wesley. At first, she did not notice the soft growl coming from Merlin's throat, nor did she hear the faint noises that issued from the second story. The dog rose slowly, his hair bristling and his teeth bared. His nails clacked against the highly-polished veneer of the hardwood floor as he lumbered over to the foot of the stairs. His big brown eyes never left the upper hallway as he began to growl once more."Quiet, Merlin! You'll wake Toby," she whispered, still focused on the book in her lap. The dog returned to her side, his whimpers gaining her full attention at last. Noticing his obvious distress, Sarah began to feel uneasy. Merlin wasn't the type of dog to behave this way without good cause. Sarah placed the book on the cushion beside her and gave Merlin a reassuring pat. Rising from the couch, she moved closer to the stairs.
When she came to the bottom step, she heard the unmistakable sound of a footstep on the floor overhead, much too heavy to have been made by her brother. Sarah's heart began to pound against her ribs as she stood there, her body frozen in place, her mind struggling to hold onto a coherent thought. What should I do... what should I do? she chanted silently, the question becoming a frantic litany in her head. Her pulse soaring, Sarah tried to remain calm enough to form a plan of action.
Listening closely to the movement above, she could tell that the intruder was currently in her bedroom. She prayed that they would stay there, away from Toby, while she quietly slipped into the kitchen to use the nearest phone. Snatching the receiver from the wall-mounted cradle, she quickly dialed nine-one-one. Her shaky hands made the task extremely difficult. Placing the phone to her ear, she waited for the call to go through. After several long, agonizing seconds, she realized that the line was dead. She clicked the disconnect button several times, desperate to hear a dialtone that never came.
Finding the phone useless, she let the receiver fall from her hand, watching as it bounced up and down, twirling on it's stretchy cord. Just then, the lights went out, throwing the house into a state of murky darkness, the only source of illumination now coming from the silvery moonlight outside. The noise upstairs was growing steadily louder, a sign that whoever had broken in was moving closer. Gripped by a terror unlike anything she'd ever known, Sarah slid to the floor, biting her lip to keep from screaming. Her nauseated stomach gave a violent heave, filling her parched throat with a sour flood of bile.
Sucking in a long, steadying breath, Sarah began to crawl towards the counter where the cutlery was kept. It seemed imperative that she arm herself with a weapon of some sort. Without bothering to look, she reached her hand up over her head, her fingers searching until they encountered the smooth wooden handle of her stepmother's expensive butcher knife. Carefully, she removed the large, razor-sharp blade, holding it gingerly at her side. Slightly reassured by the deadly weight in her hand, Sarah made her way to the laundry room as quietly as possible. Switching the knife to her left hand, Sarah eased open the door to the garage. With no windows to admit the pale moonlight from outside, the room was completely dark and disorienting. The hem of her long, ankle-length skirt got caught under her feet, causing her to stumble on the narrow stairs that led down to the cement floor of the garage. Unable to see where she was going, she used her right hand to feel her way over to the corner where a door opened to the outside. It would only take her a matter of seconds to free herself from this nightmare. She could run to the neighbor's house for help.
But then she thought of Toby, so young and defenseless, and her hasty plan of escape quickly evaporated. She couldn't leave him, no matter how sensible the plan seemed. Bolstered by the protective instinct, Sarah returned to the inner doorway and hurried back inside. Merlin sat in the laundry room, his breathing now a labored pant. The dog's presence comforted her, but she knew that he would not be able to provide her with much protection. He was old and overweight and he would be more of a liability than an asset. Whispering quiet words of praise, she brushed her calf against his warm side, gently nudging him into the garage before shutting the door. He was such a sweet, wonderful dog... she'd never forgive herself if he was injured while trying to protect her. His anxious, frustrated whines followed her as she walked away.
As silently as she could, Sarah retraced her steps, slipping through the darkness until she was once more at the foot of the stairs. An eerie stillness greeted her there, giving no clue as to the location of the intruder. A cold chill swept over her heated skin, causing prickly goosebumps to break out all over her body. Sensing a strange vibration at her back, she knew with a dreadful certainty that the presence was no longer upstairs. It was right behind her.
Whirling around, Sarah squinted into the inky darkness, her eyes finally making out the shape of a tall, shadowy figure covered by a hooded cloak. The voluminous folds of the hood made it impossible for Sarah to see the face that looked back at her. For one delirious moment, she found herself wondering if the intruder even had a face.
"Hello, human. Looking for someone?" His deep, mellifluous voice held more than a trace of sadistic amusement. He was clearly feeding off of her fear.
Sarah suddenly understood how a mouse must feel when cornered by a large, playful cat.
"Who are you?" She demanded, her voice a hoarse whisper. Her tongue felt thick and wooly inside her dry mouth. Remembering the weapon in her hand, she eased it behind her back, tucking it into the folds of her skirt, hoping that the action had went unnoticed. She gripped the handle even tighter, her fingers going numb from the increased pressure.
Having gained no response from her unwanted visitor, Sarah cleared her throat, straightened her spine and tried again. "Who are you? What do you want?" she asked, putting all the strength she could muster into those seven simple words. Her chin rose stubbornly even though she quaked with fear.
The stranger began to laugh, a cruel, frightening sound. "So very brave, aren't you, Pet?" With a wave of his hand, the object she held behind her was suddenly forced from her grasp. The blade of the kitchen knife sliced deeply across her left palm as she struggled to hold on to it. Her brain didn't register the excruciating pain right away, but she did feel the copious flow of blood as it drenched her frozen fingers. Unable to fight against his disarming spell, she reluctantly let go of her only means of defense and watched helplessly as it floated across the room.
Although her thoughts were a confused jumble, she was able to process the fact that this was obviously no ordinary mortal man. Did that mean he was Fae? She couldn't imagine what other being would be able to use magic like that.
The last of her courage drained away in an instant. She had been brave enough to fight a human intruder, convinced that she stood a decent chance of inflicting some damage to them. The knowledge that this threatening stranger possessed magical abilities left Sarah with no idea of how to protect herself. Her instinctive flight response kicking into full gear, Sarah spun around and bolted for the stairs.
The intruder overtook her quickly, launching himself against her back before she'd even reached the first step. The impact of the collision took her down instantly, her slender frame making contact with the unyielding floor. Her head slammed against the edge of a step, leaving a jagged gash on her forehead. Fresh blood began to trickle into her eyes, the hot, salty liquid blurring her vision.
Her attacker grabbed a handful of her hair, wrapping it around his fist until it tugged at her scalp. With a vicious yank, he lifted her to her feet, pulling her back against his solid chest. Unable to bear the onslaught of pain, Sarah began to sob, tears streaming down her bloodstained face.
His free hand began to caress the exposed flesh of her stomach, slowly moving upward to the full, heaving breasts before circling her slender throat with a vice-like grip. She tried to fight him, but the more she struggled the tighter his grip became. Unable to breath, Sarah's lungs began to burn as white stars burst behind her closed eyelids. Believing that death was upon her, she let her muscles relax, hoping that it would all be over soon.
It came as a complete surprise when her tormentor suddenly eased the pressure of his strangling hold, his hand falling away from her swollen throat. Gasping for air, Sarah struggled to fill her starving lungs with oxygen. "You didn't think it would be that easy, did you, human?" he asked, jerking her head around until her face was a mere inch from his own. "I have very important plans for you, my pet. You are the key to my success. I'll not allow you to escape me," he whispered against her neck, his mouth hovering close to her skin. His hot, moist breath stirred the damp hair at her nape, causing her to shiver.
"You're a rather tasty morsel... for a human," he murmured. The way he said the word human told her exactly how he felt about her species, and it wasn't good. "Maybe I'll make use of you in more ways than I'd originally intended."
Sarah struggled to understand the stranger's words as they echoed through her throbbing head. What had he meant when he said that she was the key? The key to what? Nothing he had told her made the slightest bit of sense. What use could this dangerous Fae possibly have for her?
"Come..." he said, lowering her to her feet. "It is time for us to go." Without his body to prop her up, Sarah's trembling legs soon gave out, buckling beneath her. Impatient now, the Fae grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her along behind him. The thin, blood-stained skirt twisted and bunched around her thighs, leaving her bare legs unprotected. The constant friction between her and the textured runner beneath her created painful abrasions on her tender skin. When they arrived at the upstairs landing, the Fae hauled Sarah into an upright position, standing her at his side.
A muffled noise caught his attention and he paused, his body tense. Sarah saw his temporary distraction and wondered if it would be her last chance for escape. Hoping that she would have no reason to regret the rash action, she gathered what little strength she had left and pulled her wrist free of his loosened grip. Before he could react, Sarah rammed her body against his, sending him backwards down the stairwell.
Sprinting down the hall to Toby's room, she slammed the door behind her, turning to lean against the cool wood while she caught her breath. She knew that she shouldn't waste even a second, but her body was assailed by pain and fatigue. It was all she could do to stay on her feet at this point.
A reverberating clash of thunder suddenly tore through the silence of the still room. Sarah jumped, her frayed nerves unable to cope with the startling sound. Brilliant flashes of lightning sizzled across the night sky, creating a strobelight effect on the walls, bringing the shadows to eerie life. She watched in silent horror as one of them moved away from the dark corner, slowly closing in on her. Panicking, she spun around to grab Toby so they could make their escape through his window, which luckily happened to open onto the front porch roof. Her heart lodged in her throat as she looked down at her brother's bed, finding that it was empty. Sarah's mind seemed to shatter into a million splintered pieces in that moment, overwhelmed by terror and grief. Toby was gone. She had failed to protect him and now he was gone.
Exhausted by the ordeal she had been through, Sarah crumpled to the floor, forgetting all about the living shadows and her magical captor. The last few moments of her life had been too much for her to deal with. Her brain was starting to shut down, throwing her into a state of oblivion.
She didn't have enough strength left in her to resist when a pair of strong arms grabbed her from behind, cradling her in a protective embrace. She didn't even flinch when a volley of spells soared past her from all directions, hitting the walls and various objects with explosive force.
Breathing deeply, she savored the familiar fragrance of spices that enveloped her, taking comfort from it. Closing her eyes, she let herself drift far away from the chaos that surrounded her.
As she embraced the utter blackness that washed over her, Sarah's last conscious thought was of the Goblin King.
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