The Hollow Hills - 20. Chapter 20

Galen

I stood on the porch of the New England colonial farmhouse, surveying my surroundings. The stone barn across from me was nestled in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by woods. A black horse stood in a fenced enclosure next to the barn—a paddock—a voice whispered. The word was unfamiliar to me, yet I knew the voice was right. The whole scene felt oddly familiar—both comforting and disquieting at the same time. I had been here before, I was as sure of it as I knew my own name, even though this was my first time meeting Liam’s friends. Friends? I was supposed to have dinner with Liam and Alannah; my cousin hadn’t mentioned anyone else. The black horse blinked, his eyes flashing red before he whirled and galloped away, leaving a trail of smoke behind him.

Charlemagne. Charlie, the voice whispered again.

Josh. The voice belonged to Josh. Who the hell was Josh? Puzzled, I turned and was no longer on the porch, but standing in a large kitchen staring into liquid brown eyes I recognized immediately. A wave of emotion surged through me until I thought my chest would explode. I knew this tall, gray-haired man. I loved him. I knew it as sure as I drew breath. This was Josh. I wanted nothing more than to embrace him, kiss him, and make love to him. I moved toward him, but stopped abruptly as his features morphed into a black-haired man with ice-blue eyes, who smirked and stepped toward me, raising a butcher knife.

I knew this man too—Michael—and held no love for him. Every instinct screamed at me to run, so I fled out of the house, past the barn, and into the woods. Dark fog followed me, parallel, on either side of my flight path. Gnarled and twisted tree branches reached for me like clawed beasts, and I cried out in pain as they raked my bare flesh, causing blood to flow freely down my naked back. Naked? When the hell did I lose my clothes?

I stumbled and fell to the cold, wet earth, staining the pristine snow bright red. The branches engulfed me and held me down as they dug into my flesh, pinning me in place, penetrating me in the worst violation possible. I screamed in agony with each intrusion as the fog descended on me with mocking laughter as it formed into a face with ice-cold eyes and a gaping mouth that expanded until it completely enveloped me, burning my open wounds as the fog seeped into them….

I sat upright, screaming, and leapt off the couch. It was a minute before I realized that I wasn’t shackled to a filthy mattress in an underground room, but rather in my own living room. My leg stung, and I thought it was a ghost sensation from my nightmare, until I looked down and saw the long bloody scratch on my calf. Great. Like I didn’t have enough wounds. Tigger must have been sleeping next to me when the nightmare hit. It wasn’t the first time I had scared my poor cat.

I headed into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face after relieving myself. My stomach growled, and I decided I might as well make something to eat since I wasn’t going to go back to bed any time soon. Plus, I couldn’t remember the last time I ate.

I put some frozen, breaded chicken onto a baking sheet and slid it into the oven after I set the correct temperature. I set the timer for an extra five minutes to make up for the lack of pre-heating. I grabbed a soda from the fridge and returned to the couch, burrowing into a soft blanket. I turned the TV on to the Cartoon Network just to have some noise that would hopefully distract me from my thoughts.

I couldn’t watch my favorite shows anymore. Law and Order hit too close to home now, and I had no desire to watch romance. The thought of being physically intimate with another man scared the hell out of me. Every time I thought about good memories—like making love with Jamie or Ethan, or the few times I had kissed Josh—it triggered the sensation of Michael Sullivan’s hands on my body and the horror they inflicted. In addition, the emotional wound Josh had caused with his repeated rejections in some ways hurt even worse than the torture I had endured.

Tigger slunk out from under the recliner and eyed me warily. He walked over to the couch and sat before me, staring. I patted the cushion next to me and made room for him to join me. After a few seconds’ hesitation, he jumped up and walked in a circle before curling up into my side, purring loudly. I stroked his fur and let the deep vibrations course through me. It was one of the few things that helped me relax.

I burrowed deeper into the blanket and my pillow, sighing. I pushed thoughts of the past out of my mind. It hurt too much to remember.

I gasped as ice-cold water hit my damaged skin, causing it to burn and sting as if it were alcohol instead of water poured onto raw flesh. I flailed like a caught fish, struggling in vain against my restraints. I wasn’t on the bed anymore, but hung by my arms from a hook attached to the ceiling. Michael was hosing me down, cleaning off the dried blood and shit that covered my body. I was beyond crying at that point, resigned to survive what came next. There was only one reason he was cleaning me.

I had no concept of time anymore. It could have been days or months since I woke chained to the filthy mattress. A part of me knew I was his plaything until my body gave out or he sunk the knife a little too far. I didn’t want to contemplate that thought any further.

I tried to fight when he finished cleaning me and dragged me back to the bed, but I was too weak. Resisting was futile, anyway. I had learned that lesson the hard way. I had also learned that I needed to struggle in some way, or he would discover new ways to make me scream.

He laughed as he reattached my restraints, the sound echoing off the walls, becoming louder and louder until my eardrums threatened to burst. The room glowed bright red as the walls melted into flames. Michael approached me, sprouting horns from his head as his skin turned crimson. He rubbed his erection, which jutted straight from his hairy pelvis that now led to goat legs. It grew impossibly big—a gross caricature that threatened to split me in half.

I closed my eyes, steeling myself for the unwelcome invasion. It was pointless to scream now. When nothing happened, I opened my eyes to find I was once again dangling from the hook in the ceiling, toes barely touching the floor. I watched in horror as the monstrous creature readied itself to penetrate Josh, who lay prone in my place.

I screamed and screamed until incessant, shrill beeping and loud pounding diverted my attention. A burly firefighter and my landlord burst into the bunker. Relief flooded through me. “Save him!” I yelled, twisting my body in an attempt to gesture toward Josh.

“Save who?” my landlord asked. He stood before me, looking concerned. Why wasn’t he helping Josh? Or unhooking me from that god-awful chain? “Galen, we need to get out of here. Your fire alarm is going off.”

The firefighter approached us, carrying a tray of black, smoking chicken pieces. “Here’s your culprit. Looks like someone slept through the timer. I’ll go toss this and give the all-clear.” He looked at me and frowned. “Need me to call EMS, Frank?”

My landlord ran his hand through his thinning hair. I thought it was strange he was in his pajamas. “I don’t know. Maybe I should call the sheriff first. This is his cousin.”

Liam? Liam would save us! “Yes!” I yelled and grabbed Frank’s arm. “Call Liam. He needs to save Josh!”

“Is there someone else here?” the fireman asked.

I gestured toward the bed, baffled that they thought it was appropriate to have a conversation instead of saving me and the man I loved from—

I looked at my hands and moved my arms around. I wasn’t shackled. And there wasn’t a bed across the room. Michael Sullivan was nowhere to be found. It was another nightmare, only this time it hadn’t stopped when I woke up. I was losing my mind.

“What the fuck’s going on?” I asked. I slumped in relief. I was in my apartment, not the bunker.

“I should be asking you that,” Frank said gently.

I leaned my head against my pillow. I was so tired. All I wanted to do was sleep, but I was terrified of the never-ending nightmares.

“Hey, Mark. What the hell’s going on?” Liam’s voice cut through my foggy mind, causing me to open my eyes. My cousin and landlord stood near the doorway. “I heard the call over the scanner and tried calling, but Galen didn’t answer his phone. Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, there’s no fire. From what we’ve pieced together, Galen put his dinner in the oven and then fell asleep. It set off the fire alarm, but he didn’t wake up. One of the other tenants alerted me. The alarm was blaring and Galen was screaming… I thought he was hurt, but he looks to be uninjured.”

“Damn, this place is disgusting. I haven’t been over as much as I usually am. I’ve been so busy, and whenever I call he tells me he’s fine… I—I should have paid more attention. Shit.”

Paid more attention to what? I closed my eyes. I was so tired. I just wanted everyone to go away and leave me alone. I flinched and flew upright, backing into the corner of the couch when I felt someone touch my arm and squeeze.

“Easy, cuz. It’s just me.” Liam sat on the coffee table, directly across from me. He held out his hands. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t believe you.” I expected him to morph into Michael Sullivan at any moment. Liam looked like I’d physically struck him.

“How can you say that?” he asked, his voice cracking.

I scrutinized my surroundings. I was in my apartment, although it didn’t look like it usually did. I kept it clean and tidy, but now it was a mess and reeked of burnt chicken and cat piss. My landlord stood next to several firemen near the door. “Am I awake?” I asked.

Liam nodded. “Yeah, little bro. You’re awake.”

I didn’t want to admit to him that I couldn’t tell the difference anymore, so I kept my mouth shut.

“When was the last time you took a shower?”

I shrugged. “Yesterday?”

Liam wrinkled his nose. “Somehow I doubt that. You stink.”

I narrowed my eyes. It hadn’t been that long since I bathed. Had it?

“Do you want me to call EMS, sheriff?”

Liam rose and headed over to the firefighters. “I don’t think they’d be any help. Thanks, guys. I really appreciate this.”

“He needs help, Liam.”

“I can see that. I’ll make sure he gets it.” He shook hands with the firefighter, then they exited my apartment, along with my landlord, leaving us alone.

“Why don’t you head into the shower and I’ll make us some dinner?” Liam asked as he headed into the kitchen.

“Yeah, sure. OK,” I said, but remained on the couch.

“I mean it, cuz. You want me to help you?”

I shuddered. “No. I’m going.” I rose and headed into the bathroom, grabbing a towel from the linen closet on the way. I stood in front of the tub and stared at the faucet. I inhaled, then turned the water on. My hand shook as I turned the knob toward ‘H’. Water immediately sprayed from the showerhead and I jumped backward, my heart pounding. I sat on the toilet seat, regarding the steaming stream of water with suspicion.

I jumped as ice-cold water hit my face, making it impossible to breathe. When the stream moved down my body I gasped for air, inhaling deep lungsful before screaming as the frigid liquid hit the open wounds on my back.

Loud knocking, immediately followed by the door opening, made me shoot backwards off the toilet seat and into the shower, pulling the shower curtain down on top of me. As I thrashed and screamed, the curtain ensnared my limbs, restricting my movement. I blinked and sputtered as scalding hot water from the showerhead cascaded over my face. My chest ached from holding my breath, and I tried to maneuver into a position where I could breathe, but I was too tangled. I managed to wiggle onto my side, exposing my back as my soaking wet t-shirt slid upward. It felt like I was being jolted with live wires when the searing liquid flowed onto the sensitive scar tissue on my back, and I writhed in agony. Water flowed into my mouth when I opened it to scream, causing me to choke.

I fought with every ounce of strength I had, terrified I was about to be boiled alive. The figure who had entered the bathroom loomed over me and grabbed the curtain. Panic flooded though me. The water obscured my vision, but I still managed to see a flash of black hair and cold blue eyes, which confirmed my darkest fears. Michael Sullivan was here. I kicked and flailed my arms, hoping in vain it would stop the pain.

“Ow! Galen! Stop! It’s Liam!” The water flow stopped, and I slumped in exhaustion. The adrenaline rush left my body as soon as I recognized my cousin. I lay in the tub, a tangled mess, gasping for air.

“I’m going to remove the shower curtain now.” Liam gently detached the plastic menace, then sat on the bathroom floor, staring at me. “Well, I guess now I know why you reek.”

I scowled. “Fuck you.”

“C’mon… you need to get out of those clothes and cleaned up. Would a bath be easier?”

“I guess. I don’t know.”

Liam stood and held out his hand, then helped me out of the tub. “Why don’t you grab some clean clothes, and I’ll get the bath ready for you.”

I moved past him and rummaged around the piles of clothes heaped around my room for something clean. I felt shaky and weak both from exhaustion and the after effects of my panic attack. I finally found a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that were clean, but wrinkled, and returned to the bathroom to find a tub full of water and a fresh towel and washcloth on the toilet seat. I stripped and sat in the tub. I had to admit that the hot water felt good. I soaped up the wash cloth and scrubbed my body. Liam was right. I did reek.

I was just about done washing when a soft knock on the door drew my attention. Liam peeked his head in. “How’s it goin’?”

“Just about done.”

Liam entered the small room and I frowned. “Shut the damn door. It’s freezing.”

He shut the door, then sat on the toilet lid.

“What are you doing? I said I’m almost done.”

“I put some water on to boil. Mac and cheese is about the only thing you have here to eat. It’s too late to call for takeout.” He paused and looked me over. “When was the last time you ate?”

“I don’t remember. I haven’t had much of an appetite lately.” I finished washing and set the cloth down on the edge of the tub. “Do you mind? I’m getting out now.”

Liam chuckled. “Since when are you so modest? It’s not like I haven’t seen it before. We shared a room for how many years?”

I stared at him, waiting for him to leave. Instead of giving me privacy, he reached over to the counter and grabbed the cup I used to rinse my mouth when I brushed my teeth and handed it to me.

“What the fuck is this for?”

He grabbed the bottle of shampoo and tossed it to me. “You need to wash your hair.”

I flinched as the bottle landed in the soapy bathwater with a splash. “Could you not throw shit at me?”

“You’re supposed to catch it, butterfingers.”

I splashed water at him. “Get out.”

He rose and headed out the door. “I’ll check on dinner.”

I washed my hair, then dried off and dressed in my wrinkled clothes. The whole process was exhausting. I found myself swaying on my feet as I made my way back to the living room. Before I could flop down in my spot on the couch, I found myself engulfed in a crushing embrace. I immediately tensed when I felt the restraint.

“Easy, little bro. It’s just me,” Liam said into my hair. “I’m so sorry. I should have been paying more attention.”

What the hell was he sorry for? I was too tired for this shit. I shoved against his chest. “Let go of me.”

He held me tighter and I squirmed out of his arms, scowling. “I said let go.”

Liam frowned. “I can’t stand seeing you like this. You’re my little brother and I love you. I promised you I’d always protect you. I’m sorry I let you down.”

“You’ve never let me down, Liam. You’ve always been there for me. You have nothing to be sorry for,” I replied. I took a step forward and swayed unsteadily. Liam immediately grabbed my arm and helped me to the couch.

“The mac and cheese is ready. I’ll be right back.”

I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, Liam knelt before me with a steaming bowl of cheesy noodles. I sat up and took the bowl. The noodles writhed in a giant mass, dripping orange goo with each movement. I flung it away.

“What the hell?”

“I can’t eat that.”

“Why the hell not? You love that stuff!”

I looked at him like he was nuts. He went into the kitchen and returned with another bowl. “You trust me, right?”

I narrowed my eyes and nodded.

“Close your eyes.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Just do it.”

I closed my eyes and Liam fed me a spoonful of mac and cheese. It tasted delicious, so I took the bowl from him and ate half of it before handing it back to him.

“I found your medication. It was filled three weeks ago, but the bottle’s full. Why haven’t you been taking it?”

“I can’t. I don’t want to take anything.”

He held out a pill and a glass of water. “You have to. You need it to get better.”

I curled deeper into my blanket.

“I should be taking you to the hospital right now, you know that, right?”

My eyes widened and I started shaking. “No! No hospital! I won’t go back there!”

“Then take your medication.”

I recognized the set of his jaw and determination in his eyes. This was a battle I wouldn’t win. Besides, I was too tired to fight anymore. I grabbed the glass of water and swallowed the pill. “Happy?”

“You need help. I’ll stay here tonight and clean this place up tomorrow.” He yawned. “We can talk about it in the morning.”

I lay my head down on my pillow as Liam headed into my bedroom. I tried to fight off sleep, but it eventually won.

A huge thank you to Cole Matthews for his invaluable input and patience with reading multiple revisions.  Thanks also to my awesome editor, Lisa, for her finishing touches.  And, as always, thank you so much for reading this story.  I apologize profusely for the delay in posting.  Chapter 21 is written and with Lisa so there won't be a long wait for the next chapter.