Page 2 of The Reaper
“Jesus, Nige, you’ve got the memory of a fucking sieve,” Ray piped up, taking a drag of his cigarette and blowing the smoke in my direction.
These men were devoid of any human decency. They were the worst that Brinton Manor had to offer, and I prayed that one day I’d be able to wipe our manor clean of filth like them. That would be the ultimate dream, turning their nightmares into a reality of my own making.
I didn’t make eye contact. I just kept myself curled up, my knees tucked into my chest, my head down to protect my face, and my arms clutched tightly around my legs, braced and ready to handle the impending stabbing pain of their darts.
Vinnie gave a gurgled cough as he cleared his throat and stated, “It’s ten for the body, fifteen for the legs, and twenty for his head. Get his dick and you get the bullseye.”
They’d never get the bullseye. They’d have to hold me down for that. I wasn’t stupid.
“And does it have to stick into his head, or can it bounce off and still count? I mean, that’s a hard one to score with my shitty darts.”
I peeked from the corner of my eye to see Nigel turn his dart to look at the arrowhead, tapping it with his finger and tutting to himself at the bluntness he felt.
“It’s not my fault you didn’t come prepared. You should’ve had them sharpened. I told you what we were playing tonight,” Vinnie scolded, like it all meant nothing and the darts were being used on a regular dartboard, not me. The fucker had zero emotion.
“Oh, fuck it,” Nigel snapped and lifted the dart in the air, narrowing his eyes and sticking his tongue out of the side of his mouth as he took his aim and flung it towards me with as much force as he could muster.
I braced myself and tried not to cower too much as it landed right in the middle of my thigh. The initial sting of it piercing through my skin made me freeze, then I wriggled my leg to try and make it fall free.
The darts weren’t as bad as noughts and crosses, but I dreaded to think what would happen next week. Vinnie had already said it was a toss-up between marbles and tug of war. I couldn’t bear to think what that would entail. Both sounded sadistically painful.
Eventually, I felt the dart work itself free and clatter to the floor beside me. Nigel groaned and reluctantly pulled himself out of his chair to retrieve it.
“My turn.” Vinnie cackled and lifted his dart, moving it back and forth as he closed one eye in concentration and glared at me.
He grunted from the effort of using such force as he jabbed his arm forward and threw the dart. I thought I’d done a good job hiding my face, but I hadn’t been quick enough, and the dart landed in the side of my neck. It was embedded deep, and I held my breath as I scrunched my eyes shut and tried to stay as still as I could. This one hurt.
“Oh fuck, almost a twenty,” Ray quipped, and instantly, I felt a shift in the air as tensions grew.
“It got his neck. Thatisa twenty,” Vinnie argued back, and I could tell from his angry tone that his face was probably tinged red now, his eyes bulging as he dared his friend to argue with him.
“Fair’s, fair, Vin, you didn’t get his head,” Nigel piped up using a sing-song voice that I knew would rile Vinnie even more.
“I got his neck, its close enough,” Vinnie snapped, and I could hear the beer bottles that were discarded on the floor start to clatter around as someone, probably Vinnie, stood up. They were all drunk and they were starting to turn on each other.
“You got his body, that’s ten. See? I can still remember the scores,” Nigel called out, proud at his short-term memory recall, but I could tell their night was turning sour.
The stench of stale beer and body odour filled my nostrils as one of them knelt beside me, then I winced in pain as the dart was viciously yanked out of my neck.
“I won, fair and square,” I heard Vinnie say close to my ear. “Now fuck off out of my house, both of you. I’ve had enough for one night.”
I braced myself, waiting for the punch or kick that usually followed when he was this pissed off, but surprisingly, it never came. Instead, the door slammed shut and I flinched at the bang as it shook the whole house. Gently, I opened my eyes just a little to see if Nigel and Ray had gone too. They hadn’t, but they were gathering their stuff together––their coats and wallets––and they were picking up any beer bottles that still had beer left in them to drain the dregs before they went home.
“Your stepfather is a sick fuck,” Nigel sneered, but I stared straight ahead, shivering from the rush of adrenaline that coursed through me, and I willed myself not to acknowledge him. “If I were you, I’d get out of here as soon as you can. One day, he’ll kill you, you know.”
There was no doubt in my mind that what he said was true, apart from one tiny detail… they’d all underestimated my will to fight back. I would get out, and I’d take my mum and baby sister with me. But I’d kill him before he ever got the opportunity to kill me. I’d toy with him just like he’d done with me, but I wouldn’t play stupid kids games like he did. My games would be better, more sophisticated, more twisted than anything he’d ever come up with. I’d be the master of my games. And my weapons? They’d be my trump card, my ace. I’d wield my weapons like tools that I was born to use. I’d respect them, revere them. I certainly wouldn’t be sloppy and drunk like my fuck-up of a stepfather and his shitty friends.
“Come on,” Ray called out to Nigel, pulling on his coat and striding towards the door. “Let’s leave them to it. The Red Lion on the corner should still be open. No need to ruin a decent night of drinking because he’s a fucking sore loser.”
Ray breezed past without giving me a second glance, but Nigel bit his lip as I turned my head to look at him. He must’ve had a guilty conscience, because he walked over to where my stepfather had put his wallet, picked up the key to the handcuffs and rolled it between his fingers. Then he walked over to where I was chained up and knelt down. He glanced nervously at the door, then reached over to grab my hands, putting the key in the lock and turning it to release me.
I pulled away, freeing my wrists, and rubbed each one in turn to ease the dull ache. Even though I tried not to pull or yank the cuffs during these games, Vinnie always tied them too tightly, so they pinched no matter what.
Nigel lingered next to me, but I didn’t bother saying thank you. I wasn’t thankful. This man had played a part in Vinnie’s game tonight, and he was as guilty as the rest of them, despite his rare moment of compassion.
Then when he leant down to my ear, I froze as he whispered, “Run. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the fuck out of here, kid. If you don’t, he’ll make it so they never find your body. And between you and me… you wouldn’t be the first.” And with that, he put his hands on his knees and lifted himself up, giving a heavy sigh from the effort it took, then he strolled out of the door without looking back.
I didn’t have the energy to move, so I stayed sitting on the floor and stared into the fireplace that still burned and crackled.
