Arrendelle's Lost Daughter
Chapter IV: Monsters and Men
Where is that crazy bastard?
Brutus trotted down the cracked stairs and took a sharp right into the concrete hallway, fiddling with the application of his red-striped clown mask. Suddenly, he heard Elsa's cellar door shut violently with a sharp clang.
What the hell is Clown up to? Brutus wondered, cursing his aloof comrade. He shook his head in playful disbelief as he walked the thirty paces to Elsa's door. I guess he just can't get enough of her! Who could blame him? I should come down later tonight, myself!
As he passed Isak's locked cellar door, he stopped, paused, and took a few steps backward. He quickly pressed his ear against the metal, wondering how their intruder was fairing. Brutus listened intently for a couple of moments. Not a sound! I wonder if Clown has already taken care of him.
In the momentary silence he created, he heard a muffled voice coming from Elsa's cellar. Clown? He continued his walk down the hallway, and before he ingressed into Elsa's hellhole, he noticed the snapped wires from the mangled electrical box. What the fuck is this shit? Why would he do that?
Now, two feet from the door, he could hear the tail end of some mysterious conversation, followed by Elsa's discernible 'Yes, sir.'
Dammit. He's instructing the bitch on how to play along with one of his pranks, isn't he? I swear to god, I'm busting his kneecaps if he plays another one of his pranks on me.
Brutus felt the situation was highly off-putting. He moved his arm to the holster of his pistol for protection and used his other hand to pull down the door's lever. When he pushed the heavy metal inward, the pitch-black darkness and uncertainty frightened him, so he drew his weapon.
I swear, Clown, I'm not in the mood for this.
"What the fuck? Clown! What did you do?" His low voice reverberated, annoyed, and a tad bit nervous.
He couldn't see anything inside except the dim light cascading into the cellar from the hallway. It illuminated a terrified Elsa, shaking in the corner with wide eyes.
Suddenly, her voice cried out, raspy and unstable.
"S-sir! Sir! C-clown i-is d-dead! Clown is dead! I d-didn't do it! I-I swear!" Elsa was beyond frightened. There were now two strong, tall men in her cellar and one with a gun. She closed her eyes as a tear rolled down her left cheek, clenching her hair with white knuckles.
Please, let this pass! Stop this madness, she prayed.
"What? Clown, what the hell is this?! I'm not in the mood for one of your pranks! I will shoot you this time; don't think I won't!" Brutus promised as he continued to hone in on the distressed Elsa, trying to stay within the stream of light from the hallway. His face was caked in worry as beads of sweat began racing downward from his hairline.
Suddenly, the door slammed shut, causing Brutus and Elsa to flinch. The room turned pitch black; no one could see anything.
Brutus gasped and pulled the hammer back on his pistol with shaking hands. He felt a presence in the room. But where? He quickly turned around in the void and frantically tried to locate Clown.
"C-c-clown? I'm s-serious. I'm not in the mood!"
Brutus felt a rush of cold air behind him. Okay, fuck this, he thought, spooked past his limits.
"Fuck you, Clown. Okay, y-you win. You got me." As he felt his way to a wall, Brutus conceded, attempting to follow it to the cellar door and make his exit. "I'm going to go u-up to debrief, now…"
"Brutus… It's over," Isak suddenly stated with a grainy, intimidating voice. He had used his eidetic memory of the cellar, captured just before the darkness, to position himself directly behind Brutus.
"Shit," Brutus whispered intensely.
Isak violently snapped off Brutus's mask and stuck a dirty rag in his mouth, then slid Clown's sharp combat knife into several of Brutus's vital positions.
"AHGH!" Brutus shouted behind the gag, his entire body tensing.
"Shh…" Isak mocked, twisting the blade inside of him, "Just go to sleep, you monstrous fuck. Who tortures an innocent girl?"
Brutus, because of the new extreme, sharp pain in his torso, filled to the brim with adrenaline. He fired off a gunshot in a random direction and used his other arm to try and grab his assailant from behind.
Isak and Elsa both yelped at the sudden blast. He struggled with Brutus's left arm to keep from pulling the hammer back again.
Please tell me that didn't hit her, was all Isak could think.
Elsa used her sharp sense of hearing to keep tabs on the men's location, something she had become very good at over the years. She nervously darted her head around the dark space as the two men wrestled, trying to cope with the stress and her inability to escape. She was entirely at odds with this situation—it felt like a nightmare.
Or a dream? For seven years, she had been her only advocate. Yet, that night, there was this mysterious man, Isak, claiming to be this 'knight in shining armor' sent by her father, wrestling with one of her abusers.
And Clown? Didn't Isak imply that he killed him!? Elsa began to rub her temples with her cold and stiff hands, feeling the ingress of a splitting headache.
No, she concluded. I'll wake up anytime now, and Clown will be right there in the corner. He said it himself: I'm going to die alone in here. No one is looking for me. No one even remembers I exist. And, if they did, they'd hate me for what I did to Anna.
Still, the action, heat, and noise in her current environment felt natural, unlike any dream she'd ever experienced. She decided to cover her ears and shut her eyes. Real or not, it was terrifying, and the punishment she was sure to get for allowing this to happen would be intense and painful.
Crashing around the cellar, trying to restrain a man similar to his own size, Isak felt his physical strength rapidly diminishing. He still had a massive advantage; he wasn't losing blood like Brutus was.
Eventually, Brutus dropped his weapon, and his effort to gain an advantage over Isak was exhausted into a mere hug. Isak quickly pushed him to the ground and placed his boot firmly on his stabbed back. Brutus writhed and winced at the sudden pressure.
Isak, too, stood there catching his breath and wiping his brow. He crouched and patted around the floor for the gun he was sure was nearby. Instead, his hand recognized a blowtorch. As sparks ignited the butane, Isak fastened it in the on position and laid it on the ground beside him., The dark cellar finally became slightly visible to all parties. He lifted Brutus by his thin, stringy hair and removed his gag as Isak began to speak.
"Mrs. Asta, is there anything you'd like to ask or say to this evil fuck before we do away wi–"
As soon as he looked up to the woman, his heart stopped.
Her head was tilted downward, trembling at the gun that slid directly into her lap during the conflict; she cupped it awkwardly in her hands.
"E-l-saa!" Brutus began, "You c-can't trust this man! He's here to k-kill you! Your father s-sent him to finish the job we refused to do! We've been protecting you from death! K-kill him! Kill him now!"
Elsa's eyes darted from Brutus to Isak, her face laced with worry.
"Elsa, no! He's trying to trick you," Isak stammered with his hands stretched out in front of him, palms facing her. "He's not your friend; he's not interested in helping you; this man wants to keep you locked here for eternity!"
"No- n-no!" Brutus coughed violently, starting to feel himself fading away. "I'm w-warning you, Elsa! He will hurt you!"
But you hurt me! She thought, leaning slightly in Isak's defense.
"He will hurt you worse than we ever d-did! D-do the right thing!" Brutus chose his last words carefully as dizziness and confusion flooded his brain.
Elsa was highly conflicted. A part of her believed Brutus and a part of her believed Isak. Either way, it sounded to her that she would be hurt. Her hands trembled at the crushing weight of the gun. She looked at the big, tall, and intimidating Isak, then at the battered and stabbed Brutus.
She felt this was all madness. I hate this, I hate this!
Elsa looked back down at the weapon in her hands.
What if I just turn it on myself?
A part of her beckoned for her to consider, but before the urge could get too overwhelming, a simple question came crashing back into her mind.
'How're you feeling?'
Elsa wasn't sure why she put so much stock into Isak's earlier comment, but she did. She remembered how it made her feel. It was a foreign warmth, a fleeting comfort that lasted but a moment. Still, it was the only time another human cared enough to ask how she felt in seven years. Brutus never asked that; Clown never bothered; not one soul except Isak.
She gazed up at him for a moment. Isak looked back into her eyes, quickly losing himself.
Isak! Focus! His mind screamed at him.
It was a simple comment, but it made her feel like a human being. She would cherish it until the day she died. And, if either way she was to be hurt, she decided she'd rather be broken by a man than by a monster.
Her shaking hands lifted the weapon to Isak's level, offering it to him.
Isak was immensely relieved and gently retrieved the weapon, momentarily brushing Elsa's hand with his own.
Woah, they both thought in unison.
Elsa felt her hands fall limp in her lap after letting go of the terrible weight of her dilemma. She shut her eyes right and covered her ears, readying herself for the impending blast.
Isak stood there, running his hand through his hair before pulling the hammer back and taking quick aim.
"Elsa, you fucking bitch! I warned you! I warn-"
Brutus's voice stopped instantly as the blast echoed through the chamber.
A beat. Isak stood in momentarily silence, lowering his arm to his side. Elsa slowly removed her hands from her ears but directed her head at her lap, avoiding eye contact with the tall man before her. Her trembling came back. Now, she had Isak's intentions to worry about.
"That takes care of that." Isak began, trying to lighten the mood. He moved his head over his shoulder, sure that Elsa would feel joy in their triumph over her tormentor.
But she didn't look joyful at all. She's terrified! Isak thought in dismay.
He gently set the weapon on the ground and crouched to stop him from towering over her. He was sure she had enough of that.
"... Hey?" He said tenderly, voice echoing around the chamber.
Elsa began to sniffle. She tried to wipe the tears away before they dripped off her face. She wanted to keep herself from breaking out into a full cry—she figured all men hated that. Still, it was all just too much. Every single awful thing that had ever happened to her came flooding into her mind, heightened by the recent situation.
Suddenly, Elsa broke into a heart-wrenching sob. Both her hands hugged her body as she rocked back and forth for comfort.
She's crying! Isak's face turned to one of compassion and understanding. What would Isla do here?
"I-i-i'm so sorry! I c-can't h-help it! The t-tears, they w-won't stop c-coming!" Stop crying, Elsa! Get a grip! You're so weak! He's going to hit you, and I don't blame him! She attacked herself in her mind.
But the strike never came. Instead, Isak's melodic voice struck Elsa's ears like a beautiful chord.
"I-It's always okay to cry, Elsa. It's just your mind releasing all the bad stuff that hurts you."
Elsa shuttered as she felt her heart flip around in her chest. An intense sense of comfort and warmth, similar to when she heard his comment earlier, washed over her. She tried to hold on to it this time, refusing to let it run away. However, she needed to believe what she just heard to do that.
"B-but C-clown always s-said c-crying was f-for the weak?" Elsa asked innocently.
Isak sighed upon hearing this. What a fuck, he angrily thought.
"Clown was a weak man and liar; that's why he said that. The truth is, the strongest people cry." Isak gently responded.
She tried to untangle her chains to get enough slack to wipe her entire face, but she struggled. Instinctively, as if she did this every day, she began locating the source of the tangle and weaving her body over and underneath the metal.
Isak couldn't stand to watch her trails with the torturous chains. He figured it was as good a time as any to unlock them. It's time to end this nightmare; she deserves to feel free. I'm starting with those fucking chains!
"Hey, Elsa? Would you mind if I unlocked those terrible things? I know they're not all that comfortable!" He held Clown's key ring by the correct metal cut for Elsa's shackles in his right hand and showed his left wrist's affliction from a similar restraint.
Elsa stopped in her tracks and looked up desperately into Isak's eyes. Her cyan orbs told Isak all he needed to know.
She's wanted her shackles off since the moment she woke up here. She became breathless as she entertained the idea of being free from them.
"I-I-I… y-y-yes, please!" She pleaded, still not sure if he was joking with her. She readied herself for the impending hit and the subsequent laugh as he told her how stupid she looked, thinking he was serious.
But, again, no hit came. Instead, she nearly fainted, observing Isak scoot over, entirely focused on her wrists.
Isak gingerly lifted her light left arm with his hand, instantly feeling the surge of electricity he had felt earlier when he had brushed her hand.
She's so cold! I need to get her a damn blanket as soon as I can! He thought to himself.
He's so warm! Elsa observed.
Now, only two feet from each other, their hearts threatened to beat out of their chests.
Isak cursed himself at each flinch from the movement of past her scars. Be careful, you barbarian! Slow and steady, he instructed himself.
He positioned the key into Elsa's left shackle, turned it, and, with both hands, cupped it carefully. He pulled it apart slowly from either side, promising himself that it would never touch her skin again.
Her bare wrist was in terrible shape. It was mauled from the friction of the harsh metal. Some skin was stretched, showing years of tugging and struggle.
Elsa looked at her wrist as well, surprised at the shape of her wrist–she hadn't seen it in seven years! It didn't register as a part of her for a couple of moments.
Isak kept his hands steadily cupped underneath her slender wrist, ready to support it if it fell.
She curled and uncurled her fingers delicately. She then looked into Isak's eyes, tears beginning to fill them again.
"T-t-thank y-you…" She whispered breathlessly.
Isak's eyebrows shot upward, and he quickly responded.
"You don't have to thank me for anything, ever. I just want you to focus on feeling better, and if I can help that in any way, let me know."
Hearing this, Elsa turned her face back to focus on her lap, a tiny smile forming.
Yes, I'm definitely dreaming, Elsa concluded. But she didn't care. She hoped she never woke up.
I made her smile, Isla! Isak celebrated internally, feeling an immense sense of pride pool in his chest.
"Here, let's take care of that other wrist, yeah?"
Elsa nodded.
Following the same process as before, Isak was intentional about his actions. As it was impossible to avoid the pain from her injuries, he did an excellent job of mitigating her discomfort. Elsa cherished every last warm, gentle touch she received and wished it was true. She was sure that any moment, as with any good dream, Clown would kick her awake with a whip or a stick in hand.
Luckily, her dream lasted long enough for her to see both of her wrists completely free. Isak let her sit there momentarily, understanding how cathartic it must feel for her.
However, it was undoubtedly true that the longer they spent down here, the more likely someone would come looking for Brutus.
"Elsa?" He started.
Elsa quickly snapped herself from her gentle experimentation with her newly freed wrists and gave Isak undivided attention.
Now that she was intently listening to him, Isak found it hard to choke his words out. He shook his head and cleared his dry throat.
"We're getting you out of this hellhole. Right now."