Page 58 of Caged
Dear X,
By way of introduction, my name is Kieren Hunt III, son of Kieren Hunt Junior. I’m contacting you at the direction of my father. I’m told you are expecting my email. My family has come under duress, as I believe you are aware, and I’m told you may be able to help. May we set up a time to speak?
Regards,
Kieren Hunt III
My eyes scan the flurry of back-and-forth responses, but I would need hours to read the entirety of their email exchanges. Who the fuck is ‘X’ and what did Kieren mean by his family has come under duress? What kind of help does this X person provide? Is he a medical professional?
Kieren told me about his father’s suicide attempt – could his email have something to do with his dad’s health? But then, how do you explain the first email exchange I read about an offering? What does any of this mean?
The fluttered beep of a car unlocking in the back parking lot pulls my attention from the screen. I scurry to the window and open the curtain just enough to see outside. Two of the men wearing the full-face satanic masks open the back doors of a large, black SUV and climb into the back seat. Two other men wearing black balaclavas carry a bulky, long object, open the trunk, put the object inside, close the trunk, and settle into the driver and front passenger seats. Seconds later, more men in the full-face satanic masks get into a second black SUV. Both car engines roar to life. The first SUV reverses out of its parking spot, then drives off. The second SUV does the same less than a minute later.
So fucking strange. What time is it? Is the Ceremony over? I dash back to Kieren’s computer to see that it’s almost three a.m. My hand rests on the mouse trackpad, ready to resume my snooping, when heavy footsteps can be heard marching down the hall. The door to the common room opens, and I slam the laptop shut. I’ve barely scurried onto the bed and under the covers when a key turns in the lock.
I squeeze my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. Did I close out of the last email exchange with ‘X’? Shit, I pray I did.
The thunk of Kieren’s mask hitting the floor is followed by sounds of clothes being aggressively stripped off his body and discarded into a heap. His first stop is the bathroom. A streamof urination landing in the toilet bowl is starkly loud in the otherwise silent room. The loud whoosh of flushing precedes the squeaking turn of the sink tap.
He’s coming back.
The mattress dips under the pressure of his body, and it takes every bit of energy I have left to steady my breathing and maintain my ruse. Smells of sweat and rancid char permeate my nostrils. Kieren collapses beside me, and the rank scent of him is like the human version of curdled milk. It’s so awful, I bury my face into the pillow, hoping the fibrous filling will filter away some of the stench. I should have taken off my bra and underwear. I should have cleaned myself up, but I didn’t, and now I’m trapped, wide awake, under the weight of his arm.
Sleep finds Kieren in less than two minutes. His heavy breathing is hot against my neck. Thoughts swirl in my mind, and I can’t make them stop. Minutes pass, maybe an hour. I stare at the blank wall in front of me, unable to quiet the nagging voice in my head.
Get up, Monroe.
Get up and find that hidden room.
26
KIEREN
Six Months Prior to Present Day,
The March Full Moon Ceremony,
Junior Year,
Sigma
“We need to speak,” the unmistakable metallic voice snarls at my back as I open the door to leave the Sacrifice room. Tonight’s offering has been wrapped in black cloth, and I motion for Barrett, who has been standing guard in the adjoining foyer-turned-closet.
“Footbridge,” I instruct, and Barrett nods, having already been briefed on logistics. The uncharacteristically warm week we’ve had must be another one of Moloch’s blessings. When I checked the water under the footbridge yesterday, I was surprised to see it flowing freely.
“Take Harrison, but clear the Ceremony room first and get everyone upstairs. The newly initiated must receive their brands,” I reiterate. Barrett’s already familiar with the order of events, but I find it necessary to remind him, since I assume he’sspent the better part of the evening thinking with his dick and not his brain.
Barrett’s eyes focus on the scene behind me, before giving me a curt nod and exiting through the door to the hidden room. The presence of X lingering in my personal space, waiting for an audience, gnaws at my patience, and I want nothing more than to spin around and tell him to get off my dick.
“Yes,” I acknowledge, slowly turning to face the demon clown. We match each other in height, but I have no doubt who would prevail in hand-to-hand combat. I doubt his ridiculous outfit affords him much mobility.
“You have a pet,” he states.
My jaw ticks with ire under my mask as my hands inadvertently curl into fists.
“Leave her out of this,” I growl.
“Will she be shared next time?” he asks. The other two elders in the room now stand at rapt attention.
