Suffer the Flesh

Chapter 11

The darkness was feral, powerful, tried to suck the oxygen out of her lungs. She gasped and then held her breath. Terror gripped and squeezed her bowels.

Furious voices, closer now.

The overpowering smell of bleach burned her nostrils, coated her tongue with a metallic and cold tang.

“No doors.” An unfamiliar male voice. “No doors in this fucking bathroom!”

“Then where the hell is she?”

“The fuck should I know? Let’s split. She’s gotta be hiding in one of the rooms.”

The voices trailed off.

They hadn’t found the linen closet. Yet.

She relaxed for a second, exhaled.

The door to the closet was suddenly thrown open. Tiny cracks of light filtered through the stacks of towels and shirts. Opened her mouth and nearly screamed, caught herself in time.

“Nothing, goddammit. Linens and shit.” Same voice as before.

“She’s not in there?”

“Where? The shelves are too small.”

“Maybe we should empty it out.”

“You wanna do all that work, be my guest. I came here to fuck, not work. All we’ve been doing since we got here is work. This is bullshit, man.”

“Yeah, I know.” But he moved closer, seemed to be inspecting the contents of the shelf above her.

“Come on, let’s go already.” Seconds later, the bathroom door slammed.

This time they didn’t come back.

The position in the closet had become unbearable, and her legs screamed, knees numb. Wanted desperately to get out, but not yet, had to wait a little longer. Had to think.

There had to be some other place to hide. Had to find the way out of the torture chamber. Couldn’t escape to any of the rooms because they were probably using them. The cells? Nowhere to hide there either and she didn’t want to get trapped. Kitchen? She’d never been in the kitchen and had no idea if there would be a place to hide. Probably a pantry or a freezer, but how would she be able to remain undetected in a freezer? Or alive in one, for that matter.

And she had the feeling that these men weren’t planning on leaving any time too soon.

She had the feeling this was a new regime.

They were back. Peals of laughter, and what sounded like a scuffle. Snorts and groans, and a loud smacking thud, like someone hitting the floor.

“Stay there, asshole!”

Moments later the bathroom door slammed shut again.

A low moan, from inside the room. Oh, god, now what?

“Fuckers…” someone said, but there was no strength in the voice. Zoey slid the stack of towels over a bit so she could hear better.

“Just wait,” he said, words slurring, sounding wet, thick.

She recognized the voice. She pushed the towels aside and pushed open the closet door. Moving slowly, her joints cracking and protesting, she peeked out into the shower area.

James was staring up at her with his undamaged eye, a stunned expression on his face. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered, his grin revealing bloodied teeth. “Zoey.”

Still wasn’t sure she wanted to climb out. Was this a trap? A test? Had he somehow known she was hiding there?

She exited the closet feet first. Droplets of blood plinked to the floor, formed tiny circles and crowns.

James laughed and then doubled over and clutched his stomach, a phlegmy cough wracking him.

The tingling in her legs was fierce, a swarm of yellow jackets beneath her skin. Landing on her feet sent currents through her body.

“Aren’t you resourceful?” he said, and she saw something new on his face: fear.

Was he afraid of her? More likely he was afraid of the situation. Not that he didn’t deserve to die a slow and agonizing death, and not that she hadn’t fantasized torturing him to death. She outweighed him, and he was in sorry shape. Killing him now would be easy.

She sat next to him on the floor. “We’re alone?”

He nodded.

“Care to explain, James?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“Who are these pricks?”

“Clients. Very rich, disgruntled clients. Customers.” Gingerly he touched his eye, badly swollen, dribbling pus. “These guys are our regulars. They come here to have some fun.”

“Fun?” The desire to claw his face off returned. She glanced at the bathroom door, hoping she’d have time to hide if they came back.

“I’m sorry, Zoey. This got out of hand.”

“You have a knack for understatement, James. How did this happen? You outnumber them. You got more guards than—”

“They have guns.”

She hadn’t seen guns. But it made sense. How else would they have been able to overpower James and his staff?

“This is really bad news,” he said, gently wiping the blood off his cheek with his palm. “These guys are seriously disturbed.”

“Oh, and you’re not?”

“These guys make me look like a priest. Wait—bad example.”

“I get the idea.”

“The last time he was here, Serge—the one with the diaper fetish—”

“I know him well.”

“Last time, he approached me with the idea of making a snuff film. I thought he was kidding.”

Zoey narrowed her eyes. “You thought he was kidding? Who jokes about that?”

“I know. But I told him no way. He said fine, he understood. I thought that was the end of it. These guys pay huge amounts of money for their visits. I usually look the other way when they want to try strange things. Besides, they’re not exactly pillars of society. Zack’s deeply involved in the drug scene, not the kind of guy you want to fuck with. So to speak.”

“Comforting. Do you have any idea whatsoever in that psycho fucked-up head of yours how wrong all of this is? Including your bizarre idea of a weight loss program?”

James shifted uncomfortably. “There have been studies, Zoey. Women who lose weight have said they’re rather lose a limb than gain it back. This is an extreme weight loss plan.”

“That seems to be your motto around here. You really are insane.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not. I’m quite sane. But I am a sociopath.” He smiled at that.

“I thought you said you were some filthy rich asshole with too much time on his hands.”

“I am.”

“Then why do you care about the money? About them paying you a fortune?”

“I don’t. It was just a statement. I don’t need the money, but I wanted others to have this experience. Paying the amount they do somehow legitimizes this.”

She rolled her eyes, turned away. “You really believe that, don’t you?” She shook her head. “We’re going to die. Aren’t we?”

He thought for a moment. “Probably. The only thing we can hope for is a quick and painless death. Although I don’t think there’s much chance of that, especially for me.”

“We have to do something.”

“Huh. Really? Like what, do you think?”

She ignored his sarcasm. “I don’t know. Something.” She moved back and leaned against the wall, stretched her legs out in front of her. “They don’t know about me. Where I am.”

“Oh, they’re searching for you.”

“Still?”

“Of course. Ripping the place apart.”

“How can I get out of this place?”

“You can’t.”

“There’s a way out.”

“Trust me, Zoey. There’s no way out, except for the main exit, and that’s heavily guarded, I’m sure. Especially with you missing. Besides, you can’t even get out of the bathroom. They’ve locked the door.”

Feeling had returned to her legs. “Where’s the exit, James?”

He seemed preoccupied with the gash on his arm.

“Goddammit, James…” she muttered. “What do you think they’re going to do with you?”

It was a long time before he answered. “I’m afraid to think about that.”