From the Ash II: Broken

Chapter IV: Checkmate

My hair fell over my face, blocking any view of my surroundings except for the ground below. Toro walked up some stairs. The cement steps turned into a wooden flooring of a deck or a porch. He stopped for a moment and adjusted me on his shoulder. I felt him lean forward; there was the distinct sound of a door opening.

The flooring once again changed into beige carpet as he stepped through the doorway. He walked up a few steps before he tossed me from his shoulder. I landed on something soft, and when I shook my head to clear my hair from my eyes, I saw that I was sitting on a white plush chair. A matching chair sat on the opposite side of the glass table in front of me. Only a chessboard rested on the transparent surface. As a matter of fact, the chairs and the glass table were the only furnishings in entire the room.

Toro didn't say a word as he turned his back to me and made his way through another doorway, disappearing from sight. I stared at where he had vanished, waiting for him to reappear. When he didn't, I took in the rest of the bare room. It was a standard-sized living room. The walls were painted almost identically in color to the beige carpeting. A fireplace that looked like it had never been used sat to my left. The wooden mantel above it had nothing on it, no pictures, knickknacks, clock—nothing. The room had an odd feel, like someone was in the process of moving in or out.

I heard a door open behind me. The sound of someone humming happily filled the air.

"Ah, our guest of honor has arrived!" said an enthusiastic voice.

It was him. Doc.

I slowly turned to look over my right shoulder, bracing myself to see this madman; no one was there. I jumped as I felt fingers running through my hair. When I snapped my head back around, Doc stood to my left, staring down at me with an ear-to-ear smile.

"Hello, my dear," he said sweetly.

I screamed and shook my head vigorously. The duct tape still covered my mouth, so the tirade of obscenities I was launching at him was nothing but muffled cries. Doc grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked hard, pulling my head back so that I was staring at the ceiling. Tears welled up in my eyes from the pain as I looked at a row of razor-sharp fangs.

"Now, now," he wagged a finger at me, "I'll have none of that. We have a lot to talk about, and I clearly can't have a civilized conversation with you in this current state." He tapped the duct tape. "So, if you promise not to scream, I will gladly take this off—painlessly, I might add." He chuckled and raised his eyebrows. "Sound reasonable to you?"

When I didn't answer, he yanked on my hair again, almost pulling me over the back of the chair.

"I'm going to need you to acknowledge my offer, dear. Nod if we understand each other."

I nodded.

"Wonderful!"

He let go of my hair and walked in front of me. He took hold of the duct tape with both hands, one on each side. "Now, the trick is to pull from both sides—" he put his tongue between his teeth, "and just..." He ripped the tape off. My lips felt like they were still attached to the piece he now held in his hands. I bit my tongue to keep from screaming, shut my eyes and buried my face into my shoulder; it did nothing for the searing pain, but I did remain silent.

"Hmm. I thought I did that correctly. Looks like I need a bit more practice."

When I opened my eyes, Toro had reappeared from the hall, carrying a tray. The scent of food hit my nostrils and immediately reminded my stomach that it was running on fumes. I couldn't remember the last time I ate something.

"Ah, thank you for fetching the food, Toro," Doc said, rubbing his hands together.

Toro placed the tray down a few feet away. Chicken, corn, and mashed potatoes sat on a paper plate next to a glass of water. The pain in my lips was an afterthought as I watched the steam rise from the fresh plate of food.