Legacy

Chapter 29: Mommy

Michael is later than usual today. The radio is blasting Christmas carols, but that is better than the thoughts I'm stuck with until my beloved captor gets back.

He's going to bring some poor girl here and... and dissect her. Because of me.

My stomach twists and I try to keep my mind from wandering to that deep dark place. A place of black and red and never ending screams.

The anxiety coursing through my body is so strong I can feel the baby inside me toss and turn a bit. My hand goes down to rub my swollen belly as I try to steady my breathing.

"It's okay, baby. It's..." I sigh, "okay..."

I can't even convince myself with this bullshit. How the hell should I expect this baby to by it?

"You know what..." I shake my head and look down at the bump. "It's not okay. Everything is fucked up! You shouldn't even exist! And once you're born-" my hand curls into a fist and I sob. "Your... Michael will probably see to it that you never know me. So I don't interfere with this... persona he's fabricated."

A tear falls and splatters onto the hand that's resting on my tummy. "Mommy will probably be dead and buried by the time you take your first steps..."

Wow... 'Mommy'... Why do I sorta like the sound of that?

I laugh a bit and wipe away another stray tear. "Don't worry, baby. I'll figure something out. You won't end up like him." I kiss my fingers and press them to my bellybutton. "I won't let that happen. That's a promise."

That's when I hear it. Louder than the Christmas music on the radio. Footsteps coming downstairs. I come over to the bars and poke my head through them.

His steps are uneven and I can see a body slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Those cold eyes meet mine and I take a careful step away. Then he smiles and places the girl down before chaining her to the wall.

Out cold. He must have carried me down here that way... the day he kidnapped me. So nonchalantly. And insensitive.

The next thing I know is that he's in front of me, caressing my face and tilting my chin up before giving me a slow kiss- which I break instantly and glare up at him.

Then there's the jingling of keys and the door is unlocked. His fingers curl around my wrist and he tugs me upstairs.

"Wh-What are you doing?" I try to gently pull away, enough to try to get him to let go, but not so hard that I anger him. Every encounter with this man is a mine field. All it takes is one miscalculated step to trigger an explosion.

But I get no answer. I pull harder and his grip tightens so I feel it in my joints.

Up the stairs we go. Both flights. Then we're in the bedroom. Outside the frosted window is a dark night sky. The door clicks shut and Michael turns so I can see the glint of his glasses.

"I hate to do this, Morning Bird." He takes a step towards me.

An icy chill blasts inside my heart and broadcasts through my whole body. "Michael?" I make to step back, but stumble to catch myself on the bed.

Then Michael's above me in the unlit room. His hand grabs my arm and he cuffs it to a metal loop drilled into the wall above the headboard.

"Michael!" I exclaim, trying to push him away. "Please don't do this!" I sit up and try to yank the drilled loop out of the wall. The cuff digs into the flesh of my wrist. "What did I do wrong? What did I do!" I scream, tears sliding down my face.

I'm about halfway through a sob when he grabs my face and kisses me. Hard. Like he's been holding it in for weeks. I flinch and turn my face away.

"September." His voice is soft as he grips my chin and turns me to look at him. "You haven't done anything." My jaw clenches as his thumb traces my cheekbone. "I just..." He leans in and kisses my forehead softly. "You really shouldn't see me doing this."

"I've seen you kill before!" I snap, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes." Michael shakes his head and brushes some hair away from my face. "But those were just for fun. For me. This time it's..." he thinks for a too-long moment. "For practice." Then his free hand is caressing my rounded belly. "I don't wanna be done with you just yet, Morning Bird." Both his hands cup my face and I grip the sheets beneath me. "I wanna keep you around for a little longer."

Until you decide to tear me apart piece by bloody piece.

I push him away with both hands, one being stopped short by the shackle around my wrist. Michael doesn't hold firm and simply takes a step back. His hands go up a bit defensively. I rub my tender wrist and shoot him a look.

"Why don't you want me to see it?" I spit out. "Are you afraid it'll ruin the way I see you?" His eyes firmly meet mine. "Well, don't you worry. To me you will always be the psycho who drugged me and locked me in a goddamned basement." I notice his fingers twitch at his sides. "You can try to change that as much as you want. But I've seen what you've done. I've seen everything. Felt everything." My arms wrap around my belly protectively. "Treat me however you want. I'll always be another one of your victims-"

Michael strikes me across the face, causing me to cup my cheek as my eyes fill with tears. Before I can even process what has happened, his fingers clutch my hair and yank my head back. I hold my breath as his cold eyes stare into mine.

My body is locked in fear, but I manage to curl my fingers around his wrist. If only to loosen his grip.

His voice is unwavering as he says "You wan' think'a yourself as the victim?" His head cocks to the side. "You think the world out there would be kind to a pretty little thing like you?"

I feel his free hand trace down the hollow of my neck. Then across my collarbone. The curves of my breasts. And finally circle my protruding belly. Gently. As if pressing too hard would hurt the baby he was so obsessed with putting inside me.

"Seventeen... and pregnant." Michael clicks his tongue and shakes his head. "Doubt you'd be able to give our baby a better life on your own than what I'm giving you right here." Then he shrugs and releases me.

"Gotta go." When he reaches the door he looks back at me. "Can't leave our little guest waiting too long." Then the corners of his mouth turn up. "Try and get some sleep."

Then he's gone. There are two clicks. One is the door closing. The other is the lock.