Night 8
The eighth night descended upon the basement, heavier and more suffocating than all the nights before. The absence of Harry's shallow breaths was a stark reminder of their dwindling numbers and Oliver's lethal power. The cold seemed to bite deeper into their skin, and the hunger was a constant, gnawing ache.
Abigail sat huddled near the corner, her gaze fixed on the shadows where the man remained chained. Her eyes, still swollen from the previous night's tears, held a desperate plea.
"We have to do it, Emily," she whispered, her voice thin and reedy. "He said he knows how to get out. It's our only chance."
Emily sat opposite her, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her brow furrowed with suspicion. "And what if he's lying? What if Oliver keeps him alive for a reason we don't understand? He drains everyone else, but not him."
"But he's chained!" Abigail countered, her voice rising with a touch of hysteria. "Doesn't that tell you something? Oliver is keeping him prisoner!"
"Or maybe," Emily said slowly, her eyes narrowed, "he's dangerous. Maybe Oliver keeps him chained because he's a bigger threat." She shivered, remembering the vivid image of the skeletal figure in her dream. Could there be a connection?
Abigail shook her head vehemently, tears welling in her eyes again. "We're going to die if we stay here, Emily. Night after night, Oliver… he's taking something from us. I can feel it. We have to take the chance."
The familiar creaking from the top of the stairs broke their hushed argument. Oliver descended, his movements silent and graceful as always. He carried Harry's gaunt, grey corpse with an almost casual indifference, a stark contrast to the horror it evoked in Emily and Abigail. He made his way back up the stairs without a word, the soft thud of the door closing behind him echoing in the silence.
But tonight, Oliver's visit wasn't over. He returned moments later, his cloudy blue eyes now fixed on the dark corner. His expression was completely serious, devoid of the usual polite smile. He remained silent for a long moment, his gaze unwavering, before finally speaking, his voice low but firm.
"If you know what's good for you both," his eyes flickered briefly towards Abigail and Emily, "and everyone else… don't free him."
His gaze remained locked on the shadows for another long, unsettling moment before he finally looked directly at Emily, a flicker of something unreadable in his cloudy blue eyes. Then, without another word, he turned and ascended the stairs, leaving the two girls alone with the man in chains and the weight of Oliver's cryptic warning. Just as he reached the top step, Emily, her desperation for answers outweighing her fear, called out.
"Wait! Why is he locked up? What did he do?"
Oliver paused, his hand on the doorknob. He turned slowly, a small, unsettling smirk playing on his pale lips. "It's best you remain in the dark, Em. Because the more you BOTH… know the worse it gets." He then disappeared through the doorway, the heavy wooden door clicking shut behind him, leaving Emily and Abigail in the chilling silence of the basement, Oliver's ominous words hanging heavy in the air.
Abigail looked at Emily, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and a renewed determination. "He's scared of him, Emily. That has to mean something."
Emily, however, felt a growing knot of unease in her stomach. Oliver's warning, the chilling smirk, and the cryptic nature of his words only deepened her suspicion. "Or maybe he wants us to free him," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the dark corner where the faint clinking of chains had just started again. "Maybe that's the real trap." The weight of their decision pressed down on them, the eighth night feeling heavier than any before.
The silence in the basement stretched, heavy with unspoken fears and the gnawing pangs of hunger. Abigail remained near the corner, her face still hidden in her knees, the dim light from the single ceiling fixture casting long, distorted shadows around her.
After a long moment, Emily sighed and slowly moved to sit beside Abigail. "Look," she began softly, "I know we have different ideas about this… this man in the corner. You want to free him, and I'm… I'm not so sure. But that doesn't mean we can't talk. We need to talk, Abigail. We're all we have down here."
Abigail didn't respond, remaining curled in on herself. Emily waited patiently for a moment, then sighed again. "Abigail?" she prompted gently.
Slowly, Abigail lifted her head, her expression one of surprise. "That's… that's not why I'm not talking," she whispered, her cheeks suddenly flushing a deep red.
Emily looked at her, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Then what is it?"
Abigail shifted uncomfortably, her gaze darting around the dimly lit basement before finally meeting Emily's eyes. She leaned closer and whispered, her voice barely audible, "I… I really have to pee."
Emily's eyes widened in surprise, a wave of shock washing over her. "What? Down here? There's… there's nothing…" Her gaze frantically scanned the cold, concrete floor and the damp walls.
Before Emily could finish her thought, the voice from the corner chuckled softly. "Knock on the door, little bird. Tell Oliver you've gotta use the bathroom."
Emily scoffed, turning towards the shadows. "Are you serious? You think we're that stupid? He's just going to…"
Her words were cut short as Abigail, with a sudden burst of urgency, scrambled to her feet and ran towards the rickety wooden staircase. She pounded rapidly on the closed door at the top, yelling, her voice echoing with desperation, "Please! Mister Oliver! I have to use the restroom! Please let me out!"
Emily stared in disbelief, shaking her head. "Abigail, no! It won't work! He's not going to…"
The sound of the heavy wooden door groaning open interrupted Emily's warning. Oliver's soft voice drifted down the stairs, surprising both girls. "Follow me."
Emily watched, her mouth slightly agape, as Abigail hesitantly but quickly ascended the stairs and disappeared through the doorway. "Abigail, be careful!" Emily called out softly before the door clicked shut, leaving her alone in the dim silence with the unseen man in chains.
"Why don't you trust me?" the man's voice drifted from the shadows, a hint of curiosity in his tone.
Emily crossed her arms, her gaze fixed on the darkness. "You're in chains, in the dark. Oliver acts like you're dangerous to everyone. Why should I trust you?"
A faint rustling sound came from the corner. "The dark is just because these chains are short, keeps me from… stretching my legs. As for Oliver… he only thinks I'm dangerous to him."
"Why?" Emily pressed, her suspicion still high.
"Wish I knew," the man sighed, a hint of weariness in his voice. "All I can do is wander through people's dreams and… well, it gets cold down here. Keeps me warm."
Emily scoffed, a wry smile touching her lips despite the situation. "Ah, maybe that's why. You a pervert with those powers."
An offended tone entered the man's voice. "Ah, I am not a pervert."
Emily hummed, unconvinced. "Mmm… You sure? I mean, you've been down here for a really long time…"
"Oh, fuck off," the man chuckled, the sound surprisingly light in the gloom. After a moment, his tone shifted, becoming more serious. "So, what's the world like out there, anyway? Been a while since I've… seen it."
Emily's gaze softened slightly. "It's… beautiful. The sun, when it's not raining, is amazing. There are… mutants now. And mythical creatures, some of them. It's… dangerous for ordinary people, though. You never know what you might run into."
"Mutants?" The man's voice held a note of genuine curiosity. "Heard Abigail call Oliver that. What are they?"
"Humans," Emily explained, "but they've… developed powers. Supernatural abilities. Like… like you, being able to keep yourself warm or… enter dreams. Like a pervert." She couldn't resist the jab.
The man was silent for a moment. Then, simply, "Huh."
"What?" Emily asked.
"I...Never knew i was a mutant..." the man replied, a hint of surprise in his voice. "Or… maybe I forgot. A lot of things… I can't quite remember." He paused, a thoughtful tone entering his voice. "Who I was… things like that."
Emily looked at the dark corner, her expression impassive, hiding the mix of sympathy and skepticism she felt. The silence stretched, broken only by the distant drumming of rain against the unseen roof.