Stranded Ch 12

Welcome to my dark little corner of the universe!

DISCLAIMER:

like nearly everything I write, this story consists of many dark, fucked-up, non-consensual themes, some DV, some violence/abuse, imprisonment, kidnapping, and occasionally even a little bit of torture. If any of this or terrible grammar offends you, then stop now, this story isn't for you! My apologies for how long this had taken me to get out, I can only do my best and big thanks to those of you who have been encouraging me to keep going. Not sure I would without you. <3

*****

"You screamed for help...

why

?" Dale demanded as he turned his dull green eyes to me. I sighed and fidgeted. How long did it take to put a damn whip away?

"They were hurting him...be-because of

me

." I replied, gritting my teeth against my abused vocal cords. I may not like his family, but Zeke seemed just as much a victim as I. He didn't deserve to be beaten for protecting me. And deep down I knew his uncles had no intention of stopping until they got into that closet, I had been left with little other choice but to attempt to summon help.

"How did you know it would work?"

"I didn't, but I had to do

something

."

"And just what do you think you could have possibly done otherwise?" he asked with a chuckle.

"I would have figured out something," I insisted defensively. Had screaming not worked, I probably would have given them the key and faced whatever fate awaited me.

"I bet you would have," he muttered in amusement, "I ain't gonna lie to you, KitKat, there is some dissension in the ranks. Some of my boys blame Sammy and you for the others disappearance. I believe some of my anger may have rubbed off on them, and for that, I'm sorry. I have warned them not to touch you, but there is only so much I can do. I can't be everywhere at once. I am hoping I made enough of an example out of those two, it'll set others straight."

Or anger them even more.

"Why are you telling me all this?" I asked softly.

"Maybe to warn you; maybe it's to see that flicker of fear in your eyes. Perhaps both," he mused with a casual shrug.

"Well, thank you for your honesty." Zeke returned. Then, sensing the tension in the room, he took my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Leave her with Nana; she can help in the kitchen while you finish your chores." Zeke nodded and headed back inside. There were fewer children hovering outside this time, their giggles dissipated some time ago; probably around the same time they heard the first crack of the whip. I was relieved to discover the kitchen free from Noah and Saul, although it was still unnerving to have the entire room go silent whenever I walked in.

"I got chores." Zeke announced, then turned to me with a suddenly serious look on his face.

"Nana

will

tell me if you misbehave." he warned. I stood there with my arms crossed over my chest, resisting the urge to scream; I was getting real sick of being treated like a child. I bit the inside of my cheek, just enough to keep me from telling him off as he walked out the back door. Anger was a lot easier to manage than fear, like slipping on something comfortable.

"You know, marriage is hardly the worst fate that could befall you, Sammy's a good boy. He'll take good care of you." I turned to see Bethany, no longer working on biscuits, instead she was kneading dough for what I was guessing was a potential loaf of bread.

"I don't want him to take care of me. I just want to go home," I announced in a moment of pure vulnerability. I tried to keep my eyes dry, now was not the time to fall apart, I just needed to get through the week.

"Oh hunny, you

are

home. It is not an easy life being among the chosen, but the path to paradise wasn't meant to be easy."

"Is that the same thing you told

Megan

?" I demanded angrily. I didn't want to hear more lectures about how righteous they were or how I needed to give myself over. I was done listening to their nonsense.

"Megan was a very headstrong young woman, it's a terrible shame what happened to her," Mary sighed. She barely looked up and the other women didn't seem to mind letting her do all the talking. It wasn't as if any of them had words of comfort to offer me. And while there were no men to be seen, I knew they couldn't be far. I had a feeling no matter where in the house I was, all the walls had ears.

"What

actually

happened to her?" Bethany opened her mouth as though she was going to answer me but Mary cleared her throat and she moved to the fridge to store the dough and pull out ingredients for what might be potato salad.

"Let us not dwell on such unpleasantness."

"I bet

you

would have liked a little warning when you married Earl." I sneered. A sudden stillness swept across the room and I knew immediately I had gone too far. Why did I have to keep opening my big mouth? It had been uncalled for, but I had

wanted

to hurt her. I deserved to know and I resented every one of them for keeping it from me. Emily spoke as she entered the room, just in time to witness my cruelty.

"It wasn't as if it was done maliciously. Samson made a mistake, he left Eliza in charge. Megan tried to escape, so Eliza cut her achilles tendon. She only meant to cripple Megan, make it harder for her to run. But once she was hurt, Megan started spewing awful, wicked things. So Eliza cut out her tongue and she...well she bled to death. Eliza was sentenced to death, which was carried out by Samson as punishment for his poor judgement."

Does anyone in this family actually follow the Conclave's decisions?

As far as I could tell, Dale's wives had no clue Eliza was still alive, living just half a mile behind Sam's house.

"Samson carries more anger and pain than most could bear. And the only time I have seen peace in his eyes, is when I see him with you; you're good for him. That is why the Lord has brought you home, to Samson...to us." Emily finished. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, she had hardly seen the two of us together at all, how could I bring him peace?

"And what? That makes imprisoning me okay?" Emily's brow furrowed as she leaned in closer, speaking lower.

"You should appreciate what you have because one day, it may not be there." I risked a glance at Mary, but her face was unreadable; eyes growing distant. Bringing up Earl had been a low blow, I felt the shame already creeping into my consciousness. There was no way I was going to apologize. I deserved to know what fate possibly awaited me, especially since Eliza wasn't actually dead like everyone thought. I could still see her leaning over me with the meat cleaver, the image burning so vividly, I could still recall the way the light bounced off the blade.

"Excuse me ladies, I need to lie down for a bit. Bethany, you're in charge of the girl." Mary left and my shoulders sagged with guilt.

"KitKat, do you want to cook or do dishes?" Bethany demanded.

"Dishes." I made my way to the sink, which was already piling up with mixing bowls, and measuring cups. The kitchen was a giant room; where Sam had tile countertops, Dale's house had granite. There were two propane stoves, two fridges, a pantry the size of a walk in closet, which they had located at the end of the hall, and the table was three times the length of Sam's. I wondered how similar the other house looked, were there more people there? I set to my task, grateful I had been given a choice. It was a lot harder to mess up dishes than it was a recipe. I washed until my fingers were nothing more than wrinkled prunes. Emily had left, being called to tend to yet another injury. I imagined that made her a more valuable wife, did the others have skills? .

"Fetch me another can of tomato sauce from the pantry." Bethany instructed as she started pouring in a small bowl of combined seasonings. I glanced down the hall, and hesitated.

"By-by myself?"

"Where exactly do you think you're gonna run off to? You wouldn't make it halfway down the driveway sweetie. Now hurry up, dinner mustn't be late." I was aware of every little noise as I made my way down the hall, passing a few doors along the way.

The pantry had shelves that reached the ceiling, everything was sorted and stacked as though it were a grocery store, except it was all alphabetical. Everything had a label, and everything had black sharpie date written across it. I assumed it was how they kept things rotating.

"Mother Bethany was a chef before she was chosen." A voice announced and I turned just in time to see the pantry door creak close, revealing none other than Ephraim. He was alone and leaning against the wall as though he had been waiting, but for how long?

Just a bad coincidence, right

?

"It's very organized." I replied. It was hard to look for what I needed while still keeping my eyes on him. I had to glance back at him every few seconds, muscles tensed as I waited for him to make a move. I found the sauce on the top shelf, next to the tomato soup, just inches out of my reach. I gave the shelf a little shake, testing its sturdiness and came to the quick conclusion it would not hold my weight. My eyes swept the room, looking for a step stool. Surely shorter than me needed to reach the food too. Ephraim took a step forward, revealing it hiding behind him.

"I'll scream." I warned, metal shelf digging into my back. He was between me and the only way out of the pantry. Although it was an utter bluff, just talking still hurt. There was no way I was going to be able to scream without serious damage.

"Calm yourself, I plan to take you once everyone goes to sleep. Then if you fight me, I can tell everyone you tried to run away and I had no other choice but to kill you."

My mouth went dry as he moved closer, but he didn't reach out for me, instead he reached up, grabbed the can and held it out to me.

"Your father will punish you if you do." But he only scoffed with indifference.

"A few lashings would be worth the look on Sammy's face when he returns." My heart raced, fingers clammy as I grabbed the can and pulled it against me. It really had nothing to do with me at all.

"You better get moving," Bethany shouted down the hall. I glanced at the door and back at Ephraim.

"Run along, I'll be seeing you later." He stepped aside, bowing slightly as he motioned towards the door. I walked sideways, then backwards, eyes never leaving him. Once I made it past the doorway I practically ran back to the kitchen. I handed the can to Bethany, who took it without a second glance in my direction and proceeded to add it to the pasta. Had she known he was down there? I wasn't given much time to dwell on it before I was assigned to another task. There was no shortage of work to be done and I was happy to have something to keep me distracted. It definitely beat being chained outside with the dogs. I'd had a lot of time to think while sitting in that cage, what I needed most was Sam's trust. And there was only one way to do that, I was going to have to play by his rules.

I was brought back to the present with the sound of the back screen door slamming shut. I jumped and looked up to see Dale, carrying a large chandelier made from antlers. Each individual piece looked as though it had been sanded, giving the antlers a pure white look. They were sculpted together beautifully, the small crystals dangling from them added a nice touch. Sweat trickled from his brow but he ignored it and carried the creation out into the foyer, two of his boys behind him, carrying a ladder.

"Did he make that?" I asked softly.

"He makes all sorts of things with antlers, he's

very

good with his hands." She replied with a knowing half smile as she checked on the garlic bread. How could such a cruel man be capable of creating something so beautiful? Dale had been there the day Sam drugged me, he had known this was to be my fate all along. Was that why he had treated me so poorly? Was he just used to having women at his beck and call? When I didn't show signs of submitting it

must

have irritated him. Had he been the reason Sam was left with no other choice? If he hadn't stopped by, would Sam have let me go like he said? I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath until I began feeling lightheaded and I exhaled. With more and more of the meal getting finished, there was less dishes to be done and eventually Zeke returned to fetch me.

"Where's Nana?" he demanded.

"She had to lie down, she was feeling a bit...unwell. Is there something I can do for you?" He shook his head, large drops rolling from his temple and onto his already sweat soaked shirt.

"Let's go, little sister." I nodded at Bethany and followed Zeke, breathing through my mouth to avoid the body odor that permeated the hallway. I followed him to his room where he grabbed a new outfit and led us to a bathroom down the hall. I felt panic swell in my chest and just as I was about to open my mouth to protest, Zeke turned and handed me a bandana.

"What's this for?"

"So you don't peek at me in the shower. Put it on."

"I-I don't need a shower." I objected.

"Little brother said not to take my eyes off you.

I'm

taking the shower, not you." The shower was across from the door, the sink to our left and the toilet to our right. The bathroom average in size and had a standing shower with a frosted glass door. I sat where he pointed, even though he pointed at the floor beneath the sink. I was about to ask why when he pulled out a couple zip ties and began lacing them together to create a cuff, using another to wrap around the pipe beneath the sink. If I was going to try and escape, I could either damage my wrists or rip out the sink. Either way I wasn't getting free without making some rukus. I tied the bandana across my face, making sure to tie it tightly and double knot it before holding out my wrists.

I heard the click as the door locked, followed by the sound of him disrobing.

"No peeking." I wanted to laugh at the insinuation that I would even peek to begin with, but I was also grateful he wasn't going to make me shower with him so I kept quiet.

"I'm not," I growled defensively.

"Face the wall." He insisted, so I turned my body, giving him my back.

"Why not just leave me in the kitchen?"

"Little brother said not to leave you alone unless I have to. I'm done with my chores, so I don't have to anymore." I heard the glass door open and shut, and Zeke began humming as he washed up, the scent of green apple filling the room. He didn't take long, although the humidity in the room went up and I was thankful when he was finally dressed and set me free. It took my eyes a minute to adjust to the light, but I knew better than to complain. His bedroom door had been fixed, and when he pointed to the floor beside his desk I sat down without argument. He was quiet as he locked the door and sat down, pulling a pair of glasses from the top drawer. They were a unique pair, with several magnifying glass attachments on the side. I assumed it was for the detail work he did on the dolls. I watched him work, occasionally glancing down my way. He took the bag filled with my hair out, spreading them evenly across the piece of paper, using pieces of tape to hold it in place, each piece on either side of the center. Once he had several sheets of them he pulled his sewing machine out from under his desk.

As a little girl I had often sat on the sofa in my father's study and watched him type away on the computer, working on his next 'great novel'. Zeke was engrossed in the activity, his hands moved with confidence and precision.

"Why do you use real hair?"

"It's easier to style, and gives the doll more life."

"What are you doing with it now?"

"Making wefts."

"Way what?"

"Wefts, you'll see." He turned the machine on and began to sew; he pushed the flattened out hair through, turned it around, adjusted the stitch and ran it back through again.Once that was finished, he carefully folded the hair in half, taping it once more and sewing down the side. Zeke tied the ends of the thread and ripped the paper free. He held up the small curtain of hair, of my hair; and dropped it in my hand to see. My hair was still soft, and my vision turned a bit blurry as I looked over the weft of hair. He started on the next sheet, and then the next until he had them all done. He measured out a piece of elastic, then handed it to me along with a sewing needle and thread.

"Sew the ends together." I finished just as we heard the sound of the dinner bell. I was nervous as I followed him into the dining room, unsure just who exactly I was going to see sitting at the table. It wasn't like Sam's, where it was just the two of us. There were two empty chairs beside Dale, leaving me smack in the middle of him and Zeke, but I supposed it could have been worse. I felt at

least

a dozen eyes on me, a few of the younger girls were slyly whispering, but nobody addressed me directly. Once the main dishes were set on the table, everyone reached out and clasped hands, Dale grabbed my left while Zeke held my right.

"As our guest, I would like

you

to lead us in prayer. You do know how to lead a proper prayer, surely Sammy taught you that."

"Well...I-I'm not sure."

"Are you saying your husband is neglecting his duties?" I could hear each beat of my heart roaring in my ears. He was trying to trick me, but I clenched my jaw tightly and kept my eyes on my dinner plate. There was no way I was going to tell him the truth.

"Of course not, I would be honored to lead us in prayer." His holier-than-thou smile told me knew very well I was lying, but it was too late to turn back.

My nerves were frazzled as I struggled to remember, anything. Sam had read me parts of his bible, but for the life of me I couldn't recall any of the prayers. Would Dale call the conclave over something so trivial? I risked a glance up and saw in his eyes that he might do just that. I took a deep breath, I knew he could feel how sweaty my palms had suddenly become. I licked my lips and cleared my throat. I noticed, much to my relief, that neither Noah nor Ephraim were sitting at the table, and although Saul was, I didn't find him to be much of a threat. His eyes were still red, and he looked deflated. Mary was also missing and I wondered if it was my fault. Had I gone too far? How spiteful and childish I must have sounded. Dinner was spaghetti, green beans with a few loaves of homemade garlic bread and Dale sighed impatiently..

"Get on with it, girl!"

"Good bread, good meat. Good God, let's eat!" I heard a chorus of giggles but they were quickly silenced with one look from their father. Dale's hand gripped mine so tightly my fingers were starting to turn blue and I bit my lip to prevent from whimpering.

"Do you think you're smart?" he demanded. I would rather he think I was being a brat than the truth, I didn't know the prayer and I didn't want Sam to get in trouble for it.

"What, too long?" He backhanded me hard enough I would have fallen out of my chair had Zeke not sat so close to me. I tasted blood and my eyes watered as I brought my fingers up to touch my now split lip.

"She is no longer welcome at the dinner table, you may remove her."

"Yes Papa." Zeke looked a little embarrassed but he grabbed my bicep and pulled me to my feet, half leading, half dragging me back to his room.

He pointed to the closet and with a lowered head I entered and sat down.

"That was really stupid, little sister. I'll be back after dinner to let you out." He shut the door and I heard the familiar sound of the lock sliding into place. I pushed a few dolls aside and curled up on the floor. I laid there and found myself wishing for Sam's return, at least with him I had a better idea of what to expect. My stomach growled as the smell of dinner wafted through the house, but stomach pangs were easy for me to ignore. I had just started to doze off when I heard Zeke's heavy footsteps return; I wasn't sure how much time had passed but it felt like hours. It only took a few minutes for the closet door to open, but what I discovered standing before me wasn't Zeke, it was Dale.