Sketch by Didi Oviatt

Author:Didi Oviatt [Oviatt, Didi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Creativia
Published: 2019-06-02T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Steven read each article twice over. He can’t believe what he’s seeing. What reason could there possibly be for his father to have such a fortress locked away in his home? Steven imagines the room before they’d taken everything out of it. He pictures the crossbows, all the arrows, the knives, and even the rope. He can’t help but to imagine that same rope, being used to tie up any of these women he read about.

Steven wonders if the same knives he’s used to skin rabbits for the past few weeks were ever used to slice a throat or cut off an arm. The thought makes Steven sick to his stomach. He read on about the stabbings and dismembering of girls' bodies. He can’t help but remember in detail, every part of Misty’s body that he’d helped to carry up the ladder and out of that awful hole in the ground. There are two articles that read the women were never found.

The old bones left behind in that bunker, could easily belong to either of those women. There was only one skull, so they assumed there is only the remains of one woman. But it seemed to Steven like there were way too many ribs to only belong to one person. He wishes now that they would have counted them. Steven has lost track of time, as he’s unable to put the newspapers down. He is sitting there in the basement reading them over and over, he can’t peel himself away.

The burning look in his father’s eyes is drumming in the back of his mind as he reads, as well as his mother’s words of warning, ‘he’s a good man, Steven, and a good father. Just don’t cross him.’ Steven takes a few deep breaths and sets the papers down. Steven stares into space for only God knows how long. He feels lost and unsafe in his own home. His mind is playing tricks on him, only the thoughts are backed by distorted reality.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Mr. Smith’s voice sounds from behind Steven's back at the middle of the stairway.

“Son, where is the rest of it?”

Goosebumps rise on his arms. Steven doesn’t know whether to run or yell. Maybe he should fight his now sober and well rested father. Rather than doing any of these things, Steven freezes in place. He’s unable to breathe or move. Every muscle in his body seems to be paralyzed with fear. Steven listens to the sound of his father’s breathing, followed by his steps growing closer and closer to the bottom of the stairs. One step at a time, each stair he takes slower than the last. It feels like his father’s creeping up to him, as if stalking his next prey.

“Well, answer me boy. Where are the rest of my things?” Steven’s father repeats the question, a little louder and more demanding.

“I. I. I. don’t know sir,” Steven stammers.

Robert Smith, now standing directly over his son, looks down the back of his shaking body.

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