The Wendricks Gallery

01

Aileen drooped her head and fought her blurry vision. She had been drugged with chloroform, the figure who ambushed her was still faint in her memory. She could only recall the time of day; that she was violently tugged into the forest with a cloth cupped over her nose and mouth.

The nearing echo of footsteps, awoke the girl's senses. She scanned, she assumed was a bedroom, for the figure to reappear. He stood firmly planted on the virgin white carpet, the luminous lit room shadowed the top half of his face. His thin, straw like lips curved up into a devilish smile. Scars littered his pale complexion, even his lips were scarred with the same white lines. However this man was built stockier than the figure who ambushed her. This one gazed at her like an unwrapped birthday gift, while the other held a tinge of lust.

In the shadows of the dim lights, Aileen spotted a silver object in his right hand. She clenched her fists around the rope with her heartbeat accelerating. A scream crawled up her trachea, and bent her vocal cords, however Aileen gritted her mouth shut. She swallowed a glob of spit in an effort to clog her throat.

His scarred lips parted and exposed his jagged, yellow tinted teeth. He tilted his head side to side, gathering all the angles of her unscathed body.

"What a beautiful young girl," the young man's voice rattled her bones.

Aileen watched the man saunter closer to her. She cringed away and wiggled her body back and forth on the rope. She hung suspended from the ceiling of the bedroom, with her legs four inches off the carpet. The tightly tied rope chaffed her wrists from the weight of her body hanging on her arms.

He brought the blade of the knife into the light. He wavered it back and forth, infatuated with her wide, mortified eyes. Aileen's attention didn't fall far from the knife. She watched him taunt her like a little kid with a piece of candy.

The man planted the blade on her cheek with his face inches away from hers. Aileen felt his hot, musty breath on her nose and lips. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on her quick breaths, rather than the chilling touch of the knife. He began to drag the blade down her face, and twisted it gently along her collarbones. The man added no pressure, he merely painlessly caressed it along her body.

"Edger won't allow me to slice you open like the others, he told me you're special," the young scarred man mumbled to her.

He pulled the knife away and surveyed her stature. Aileen's stretched out gray shirt hung loosely on her body while she slightly swung back and forth on the chain. Her disheveled jean shorts exposed her unscathed legs. The knife in the man's hand quaked as he fought himself to keep her uncut.

He gritted his jagged teeth and pinched his face together. He fought his need to see blood ooze through a cut, especially on her smooth skin. The man heaved heavy thick breaths in an effort to calm his anxious nerves. The hairs on his burly arms stood on end. His grip tightened on the blade as he fought himself. She was right in front of him taunting him to use the knife his hand.

"Your delicate skin is the perfect canvas for my expertise," he slithered to her.

Aileen squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to shut the man out. She has made a promise to herself- she can't give in and weep in front of her captors. Her tears would only give them satisfaction. Sealing the stocky man from her vision will allow herself to submerge herself in her thoughts. Her young, foolish brother floated in front of her eyes with his toothy grin. He flapped his arms up and down, shouting out hawk sounds. One day Aileen knows he'll be up amongst the clouds, in the pilot's seat of an aircraft. She hopes she will be able to see that day.

"So silky and soft to the touch of a hardworking man like myself," he mumbled as he reached out to caress her skin.

The creak of the bedroom door awoke Aileen of her pleasant daze, in which she had drown herself in. A shadowed figure sauntered across the white carpet, tracking in soot and grass. He halted beside the stocky man, who jerked his hand back down to his side. His stature was unlike the burly one. He was thinner more toned than thick, and once his face entered the light of the ceiling light. His features caught her breath.

"Darius, leave Aileen to me. Clay is due for his last modifications," the slimmer man ordered Darius who huffed in response. He ripped his eyes off her delicate body and strode out the bedroom's threshold.

Aileen gritted her teeth and recognized who this slimmer man was. She remembered the way he roughly forced her into the woods, with a chloroform soaked cloth suffocating her. The fuzzy memory hung strong in her mind, he acted too attractive and humble for her not to stumble right into his trap that night.

The slimmer man advanced towards her, he wore a tight fitting black suit which clung to his toned arms. The suit freshly ironed this morning and his black leather shoes looked newly polished. Aileen swallowed another glob of spit, which stuck in her dry throat. She dug her nails into the rope suspending her, forcing them to bend and break off. He eyed her and a smile curved up his plump lips. His features could deceive anyone, he looked like a fresh clean cut gentleman, however inside laid a sinister psychopath.

"Welcome to Wendricks Manor," he said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife, "you'll be an elating addition to our gallery."

Aileen's body flinched as he rushed his cold hand down her thigh. He pursed his lips as he decided on a location to engrave his family's crest. However her body was tempting him to leave it smooth and shiny.

"Your body is convincing me of other intentions," he grumbled underneath his breath. He knitted his eyebrows together and rolled his lips in thought.

His eyes flickered to the silver knife in his hand. He sighed and slid the blade back into his pocket. Gently he raised his head back up from his pants pocket to her fragile face.

He surveyed her dark brown eyes and chestnut hair that laid flat against her back. Aileen's disheveled clothes allowed him to see more of her silk like body. Most of their art pieces were rugged and rough, however Aileen was still unscarred from a blade.

"So many decisions, such little time to decide," he muttered as he pulled a needle out of his jacket pocket, "for now rest up to prepare for me."

Aileen's eyes widened as she jerked her body back and forth. He flicked his finger against the glass syringe before planting his thumb on the plunger. She never knew what to expect when she became unconscious, anyone could be doing anything to her without her aggression. Her body could end up in a new location with missing limbs or fresh wounds. Aileen prepared herself for the worst once she is drown in the black abyss.

A prick appeared on the side of her neck as the man shoved the needle into her. Aileen let out a small groan, however tried to remain as silent as she could. He pulled away from her after emptying the contents of the syringe into her. Her head drooped back down as her muscles began to relax. Her breathing leveled allowing her heart beat to decrease.

Aileen slipped away from reality, only to fall into a dark abyss. The pitch, black sea engulfed her consciousness. Her brown eyes caught the view of the man, who she assumed was Edgar, ambling out of the bedroom. Once her eyes shut, the real world was shut out.

Edgar cut her down from the ceiling.  Her body no longer had to feel the aching of the weigh on her wrists. Aileen felt the openness of a warm ocean. If she were to die, she'd choose this peaceful, warm sea to be dumped in.