The Slash Of Truth: The Whispers From Under The Bed

127#

06:52am.

Fruit Family Household.

Dear Dairy.

Last night, I had my heart rushing with love one minute and the next I had it ripped out of me. My daughter has been taken and I have no idea where to start looking, so, I’ve just started looking. In every room on every floor, in the attic and basement, outside in the woods and beyond the gates as I waved my gun like a fucking lunatic. I never stopped, I didn’t want to stop, I couldn’t stop, and I wouldn’t let myself. The only reason I’m here writing in my diary now is because of Detective Sweetpea, holding me in that god-forsaken arm lock.

Helly is as frantic as I am, going as far as slapping Clutch for trying to grab hold of her. She’s with me in our room, balling her eyes out in the shower. I haven’t slept, and neither has Helly. I wish I could console her, I wish I could make everything be alright with a snap of my fingers but, I know that’s not how things work.

Detective Shepard and Detective Sweetpea were first to investigate while I ran around like a headless chicken. Once they did all they could, they reported their findings to me and Helly but, what they told us was terrifying. They told me it was like she just vanished, it was clear that there was a struggle but, in all of Shepard’s time being a detective, he has never felt so outplayed. With nothing suggesting that she had ever been taken, it was hard to find a lead.

The windows were locked and untouched so the suspect must have entered through the door, with a wooden chair lodging the hand, it was obvious that whoever did this was trying to keep us out but, what baffled us all was how they escaped with Cherry. I was at the door before whoever was making my daughter scream could walk out, the windows were untouched, and there were no other doors in the room. I did think that it was a unicorn’s doing as they have the power to teleport themselves and others but, that was quickly shut down as Detective Shepard used a device to detect magical traces, there was a faint magical power in that room but, not enough for it to be a teleportation spell. It was like she truly vanished.

As I’m writing this, something just popped in my head. I did find it odd that it was the same room that the Clutch’s son was taken in. I might be overthinking things but, why would the kidnapper go into the same room, knowing that there was no one inside? Unless someone knew she was in there, someone inside this house. This might be just me and the lack of sleep but, I believe someone in this house has taken Cherry, and I intend to find out with a low profile. I don’t trust anyone in this house except Helly but, I can’t let her get involved for her own protection but, at the same time I can’t leave her alone. What I’m about to do can go either way, I only hope it is the good way.

“Do you have any enemies? Anyone that have a motive against you or your family?” Sweetpea asked across the table where Arctic and Helly sat dishevelled and exhausted as they both drank coffee from their mugs. Arctic has mostly been answering the questions as Helly was lost in her own miserable mind, gazing into the half full mug with a thousand yard stare. As for Arctic, he has been careful of what he has been saying to the detective and keeping an eye out, seeing everyone’s reactions.

Detective Shepard was understandably exhausted as he has been working all morning, he sounds and looks like a genuine and nice guy but, over the years, Arctic has learned not to judge a book by its cover. He’s up there in Cherry’s room—alone… he has sent Detective Sweetpea down here to question himself and Helly while he was up there, covering up loose ends maybe? Taking evidence? Planting false evidence? Although he was the least likely to do the deed, Arctic couldn’t ignore that it could be him.

Detective Sweetpea is partners with Detective Shepard, maybe she is part of Shepard’s scandal? Was she asking questions to distract Arctic? Was she asking questions to build a story that will sway him from believing the truth? To pin it on someone else? These two could be working together but why? Why would they take Cherry? He didn’t know but, despite the unanswered questions, he couldn’t ignore the fact that his daughter was taken a few hours after their arrival. That couldn’t be a coincidence… right?

“Arctic…”

Clutch didn’t look affected by last night’s events this morning; he looked like he didn’t care or was concerned for that matter. He just hopped out of bed, had his morning coffee and breakfast and drove off to work in a car that is large enough to shove a 19-year-old girl in, it made Arctic’s neck hairs stand on end. Everything about this man screamed psycho, the way he carries himself, his lack of empathy… He's the one, he has to be. People like him don’t need a reason, they just see what they like and take it.

Dime Flit has been a moody bitch ever since Arctic, Helly and Cherry arrived but, she has also been emotional from the disappearance of her youngest son. From that fact alone, Arctic thought she was the least unlikely suspect in this group but, Arctic knew he couldn’t write anyone off just yet.

“Arctic… you’re dozing off.”

Then there was Fenton, he was the first to lay eyes on her in interest. That look in his eye, he has seen it many times when he was in school. Power, lust and want, those emotions can lead to unspeakable actions if they don’t get what they want. Fenton is that type of kid.

Yet again, it could be none of them, I might be playing myself, thinking too much to the point of madness… but, whoever it may be, I will find her.

“Arctic… Heloooo!” Detective Sweetpea yelled, snapping her fingers in the face of Arctic as he snapped out of his thoughts, spasming back to life.

“Huh?” Arctic murmured, jumping in his seat. Sweetpea rolled her eyes, taking a swig of her coffee.

“Do you have any enemies or anyone that has a motive against you or your family?” The detective said again.

“Oh…uh, no.” Arctic muttered, rubbing his eyes as he couldn’t keep them open. That was a lie, he was on the run after all from an extremest cult of people that wanted his ass for stealing an artefact that belonged to his family. Sweetpea sighed and softly banged her head on the table, muttering to herself.

“Ugh… I’m too tired.” Sweetpea mumbled to herself, feeling her whole body drain with each minute of talking to Arctic.

“Maybe you should take a break, detective. You won’t figure out anything with no sleep.” Arctic said, trying to get her off his case so he could start.

“Me? A break? I wouldn’t hear the end of it if Detective Shepard seen me take a break! My work here is done when his work is done.” She said, gradually lifting herself up and tried to stop herself from yawning as she covered her mouth.

“No offence, detective but, what is the point of this?” Helly stepped in, not looking so happy. “Aren’t you meant to be out there, looking for my missing daughter instead of playing 20 questions.”

“With all due respect, ma’am. We are merely just trying to gather intel to find us a lead but, at the moment, there is none, that’s why I’m here, talking to you two for more information.” Sweetpea said, rubbing her temple. Helly just scoffed, getting up from her seat and abruptly leaving the table as she stormed off. Arctic’s frown deepened, after her sobbing the shower, she’s been hot-headed, restless, snappy to everyone that came her way, even Arctic to her shame. Arctic sighed.

“Please don’t mind her, I’ve never seen her like this myself.” Arctic responded.

“It’s fine, I’ve dealt with emotional mothers before, I’m just glad you're more cooperative.” Sweetpea said, sprawling over the table. “Why can’t Shepard ask the questions?” She moaned.

“So… How long have you known Shepard?” Arctic questioned, tilting his head slightly as he put in an inquisitive look.

“Shepard… I’ve met him ever since the police academy, he had a thing for me but, I’m more into women myself, so, he had that awkward moment of realisation and ever since, we’ve been close as friends.” She said, chuckling at the memory of Shepard’s dumfounded face.

“So, you would go to hell and back for him?” Arctic asked, making Sweetpea lift her head slightly.

“What’s with the sudden interest?” She asked, putting Arctic on the spot.

“No reason, I just want to know the ones that are looking for my daughter is all.” Arctic quickly said.

“Uh-huh…” She murmured, not quite convinced but, didn’t say anything. “But yeah, we have had our fair share of shootouts, we have watched each other’s backs so... Yeah, I’d like to say I would.” The detective said, a proud smile on her face.

“Even if he broke the law?” Arctic said with a smile, trying to play it off as a joke but, Sweetpea didn’t like the comment.

“What are you trying to say?” she asked, her brows furrowing.

“Hypothetically, of course.” Arctic quickly added, raising both his hands with a sheepish smile. Sweetpea just rolled her eyes and got up.

“We are not here to cause trouble; we are here to help despite what you think.” She said with an irritated tone, making Arctic slowly frown and stare with a firm look.

“I just want to know who I’m talking to.”

“You’re talking to a Detective that wants to help, and I’m sure Shepard is here for you too. You can trust us.” She said, a genuine look on her face. “I promise you; we will find your daughter.”

It was hard for Arctic to find a lie in her words and body language. From the first moment they had met, Arctic knew she was a hard-working, willing person from the little time they had spoken but, was it enough to trust her? Maybe.

“Thank you.” Arctic muttered, standing up too and walking away.

“Don’t thank me just yet.”

As tired as Arctic was, it didn’t stop him from walking to his car and taking out the boxes of cameras and other security devices. He should have put these up the moment he arrived instead of looking for Clutch’s fucking son, why did he have to go out and look for a kid that wasn’t his? Now, he had to take things into his own hands, not just to find her but, so the same thing won’t happen to Helly. If he was right, it was someone in this house. If they try again, he’ll have them on tape.

Arctic was four cameras in when saw something he shouldn’t have. He was upstairs down the east hallway of the mansion, standing on an unlevelled ladder he found in the shed as he screwed in the last bit of the camera into the ceiling, facing down the hallway. He tried to get up higher on his tip toes for the last bit but, thanks to the ladder being old and unsteady, both the ladder and Arctic had collapsed to one side, making a loud crash and for Arctic to huff, as he got the wind knocked out of him.

As he moaned in pain, a door opened next to him, revealing a pissed-off Dime Flit. Seeing Arctic on the floor, she just scoffed.

“Do you mind? I’m on the phone!” Dime exclaimed, slamming the door shut. Before the door had shut however, he caught a glimpse of what or who she was on the phone with.

David… A human name…

Not even that, he saw a small blood stain on her necklace that was partly covered up by her business-like blazer. All of a sudden, Mrs Flit wasn’t looking too innocent. He couldn’t confront her now, that would be stupid of him, he didn’t want to scare her off, he still had questions to answer. Why take Cherry? Where was she taken? Was she the one responsible for her own son's disappearance? Why? He didn’t know but, the least he could do is go in and see what he could find and point Detective Sweetpea – and only Detective Sweetpea in the right direction, he hoped she was here to help. For now, he could only finish setting things up.

Drip… Drip… Drip was all that Cherry heard, the first thing she felt was coldness as her skin was riddled with goosebumps, and her head pounding as she groaned. Her hand felt the floor beneath her, feeling the wet dust and rubble as she dragged her hand across.

Slowly, she fluttered her eyes open to see absolute darkness, a funky and reeking odour in the air as she took a whiff of her surroundings.

Where was she? What happened? What was that thing last night? It… It took her… Why? How?

When she leaned up from the floor, she felt the migraine on the side of her pulse faster. When she touched the pulse instinctively, she noticed that the side of her hair and face were humid and stale. Was she… Bleeding? Was that the intense pain on the side of her head?

“Hello… Is anyone there?” She asked with a raspy voice, her throat cold and dry. “Hello?” She spoke again, hoping for someone to reply. No one did, and that terrified her more than it should have. She went to stand, her whole body shaking at the freezing cold temperature that her black bra and sky-blue denim shorts did very little to warm her up. She tried to feel her surroundings, seeing if there was some sort of door or window but, when she went from wall to wall, her heart skipped a beat as one of the four walls wasn’t a wall but rusty, iron bars. Not only that, but she also heard inaudible breathing that wasn’t her own.

She wasn’t alone…

Slowly, she backed away from the bars, feeling her skin crawl. Who is that? Why didn’t they answer my calls?

“Hello?” She called out again with more conviction in her tone. The person didn’t reply but, shuffling was heard and before Cherry could say anything, the dying light bulb above her barely lit up the room, flickering often but, that light was enough for Cherry to see the prison she was in, and Cherry was too petrified to even scream. Blood was all around her, new and old as it nearly painted the walls and floors completely, engravings scratched into the walls that Cherry could not read, an old bucket in the corner of the room, multiple rusty chains hung side by side on each wall, and one of them was in use as a boy hung lifelessly from the shackles. He didn’t move, as he levitated from the ground by his wrists that were badly bruised, dried-up blood running down his lip, nose and body and slashes were imprinted on his skin. Was this… the boy that was taken? Is this pegasus Feather Flit?

Suddenly her thoughts scattered, and her arms were wrapped around her exposed bra as in the corner of her eyes she spotted an outline of a figure from behind the bars. It sat there on an old wooden chair, unmoving as with each breath the figure took, it exhaled fog from the chill. It sat there with masculinity, his right leg resting on the other as his arms were crossed, holding something in one of his hands. He was wearing a wool, black rich but oddly unkempt trench coat for its size, a red scarf sticking out, modest black pants and black shiny shoes. He also wore a top hat as he was staring directly at her, the light above him shadowing his face.

Cherry was too scared to speak first, to move, to look away as this man had full power over her. What does he want? Why is he just sitting there? This must be some twisted joke, there is no way this is happening—right? Slowly tears spilled from her cheeks as she trembled, waiting for something to happen but, nothing did happen. He just sat there, still, watching and waiting expectingly. Building up the courage to move, she slowly made her way to the boy, looking over her shoulder a few times to see if the man had moved but, all he did was move his head slightly to where she was walking, shamelessly staring. When she was in reaching distance, she froze.

“He’s dead.” A low, deep tone uttered from the man, making Cherry jump slightly and snap her neck to him.

“W-what?” Cherry muttered, feeling her teeth jitter. Then, he rose from his seat with agonising slowness, only then did she know what was in his hand as it fell limply.

A whip.

Each step he took towards the barred door, she stepped backwards into the wall. He pushed it open with effortless ease; the door being unlocked this whole time. her heart pounded in her chest as he walked in, the whip trailing behind him. All she could do is curl up in the corner of the room and pray for mercy.

“Please don’t hurt me, please. I’ll—” The rest of her words were cut off as with force, she was lifted by her hair, making her heart jump and for her to thrash. “No! let go of me! Please! Don’t hurt me!” she screamed as she was dragged to the other side of the cell, feeling her hair being ragged carelessly. She was yanked up to the wall, facing the wall with horror as the shackles snaked around her wrist on command. Her eyes widened as she couldn’t free herself. Was… was she about to get violated?

“NO! STOP! PLEASE!” She screamed at the top of her lungs as she felt the hands of the man fiddle with the straps of her bra. “YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS! PLEASE DON’T DO THIS!” She cried, tears falling freely, tucking on the chains.

“Shut—up!” The man said darkly, the pause in his words making Cherry squirm in fear. Cherry could only stand there in silence as she felt the bra loosen and tossed away. Nothing happened for a few seconds as she didn’t dare turn her head, move or speak. “Rule 1: Don’t talk. Each word you speak is a lash, you uttered 29 words, 29 lashes as punishment.” The gruff man said with a disappointed tone that made Cherry’s eyes widen in terror.

“Wait, no! please, I—" Cherry instantly stopped as she left her mouth wide open in realisation.

I spoke…

“33 lashes…” The man muttered, making Cherry’s heart freeze. She opened her mouth to plead instinctively but quickly closed her mouth, feeling her whole world crumble as all she could was close her eyes tightly and wait.

Wuh-psssh!

A blood-curdling cry echoed off the walls as Cherry felt an intense pain erupt right in the middle of her back, her back arching in from the blow.

Wuh-psssh!

She screamed at the top of her lungs as another struck her slightly higher from the first strike, feeling her legs give out at the burning pain.

Wuh-psssh!

He struck a third time that sent her reeling in discomfort, trying to pull her hands out of the tight shackles with quick and violent thrashes. She needed to escape, she needed to get out, she needed her mom, she needed her dad.

7th Wuh-psssh!

She couldn’t hold herself up anymore as she hung limply, sobbing in agony as he struck every part of her body that wasn’t marked.

18th Wuh-psssh!

She couldn’t scream anymore as she slowly lost her voice, feeling her back melt away as her back was on fire, her eyes burning from crying her eyes out.

25th Wuh-psssh!

She couldn’t take it anymore as she went limp from the chains. She just wanted to die, just to get it all from her suffering as blacking out from the unbearable lashes.