City of the Dead

Chapter 4

A few days ago I thought that living in Aston was hard. That being around an entire village that didn't understand me was miserable. I was more than wrong about that. The few days that I have spent in this filthy shack with these sorry excuses for men have been the hardest, draining, and most miserable I have ever been in my life.

I was severely punished for my little escape attempt and for wounding James. Trevor taught me an important lesson that night and made sure that I never forget it. No one messes with the Morrensi brothers. The only thing I remember of my punishment was a large fist harshly colliding with my face. It has taken a while but my black eye has finally healed, as well as my busted lip. Unfortunately, I still have to limp everywhere I walk and it hurts to move my wrist a certain way which makes it difficult to complete the many chores that I have to do.

As promised the brothers have forced me to become their servant. Every day I cook and clean for those slobs while constantly having to endure all their harassment. No matter what I do or how hard I try nothing ever satisfies them. If being called a servant bitch wasn't demeaning enough, every so often I would have to silently endure while they kiss me and have their grimy hands feel in places that make me shudder. Thank the gods that is all that they do. It makes me sick having to deal with such things but I am slowly learning how to deal with it.

The key is not to think about it too much. I retreat into my mind and pretend that I'm anywhere but here. It might not be the best solution but it keeps me from boiling over. A quick loss of temper could cost me my life.

This is not what I want. What I want is to give each of them a good Aston-style punch in the nose, or pour salt in their eyes, or chop off their hands. I know that won't do me any favors, especially with Trevor threatening my family every chance that he gets. It's the only reason why I'm still here. Trevor swears that he brought my parents home safely but I won't be quick to trust what my captor tells me. Even if he is telling the truth there is always the chance that he could march back down the mountain and harm them if I step out of line. So, until I find a better solution, I'll just have to do as I'm told.

"Get me something to eat and some whisky." Trevor orders as he bursts through the front door and crashes down onto the nearest couch. "

"Get me one too." James pipes in. He has spent the entire day laying on the second couch. He says it's to monitor me but I know it's because he's a lazy bump on a log. James has laid there for so long that a strong odor is starting to come from the couch.

"Alright. I'll be right there." I say placing a half-washed dish back into the sink. I quickly dry my hands and rush to get them their food.

I wonder what Trevor does for a living. Where does he go every day? I can't imagine him working a simple job or anything that doesn't involve hurting people. I imagine that he goes out robbing innocent people like my family.

"Hurry up and if you burn anything else you're going to get what's coming to you."

I guess I'll have to think on a better day. I head into the living room and hand each of them their meals.

"Why do you always have to look so miserable?" Trevor asks angrily snatching the cup from my hands and taking a huge gulp.

"I don't know." I retort. "Maybe it's because I am miserable."

"Well don't be miserable around me."

"You kidnapped my family, destroyed our house, keep me hostage, force me to clean and serve you whiskey all day, and now you want me to be happy about it?" I ask irritated.

"Just be glad that you're cleaning and serving drinks and not anything else. Trust me, if I were to make you truly serve me you would be waiting in my bed, not standing here mouthing off. Now, either you can go finish the dishes, or I can take you upstairs.