Chapter 21
Suddenly her eyes widened in shock, she wasn’t sure what was going on. Her entire body felt like it was on fire. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she was sweating like she never had before. The smell of burnt flesh finally jolted Molly back to reality, she had been dreaming. He was standing there with a small candle placed on her belly button. He lit the candle and used the light from it to read her poems from her childhood.
Tears began streaming down her cheek as she remembered where she was. She hated herself for falling in love with that man all those years ago. After he finished reading the poems he let the candle burn down until the wax melted to her flesh. She cried out in pain but it was no use, she still had the feeding tube crammed in her throat.
All this time he stood there doing this to her, he showed no emotion, guilt, pain, or pleasure. He pulled out another poem and began to read it to her; his words were cold as ice. They were like sharp, stabbing pains in her chest. Those poems that had once lifted her spirits, blessing her with the gift of love, joy, and happiness, were now being used as tools to bring her nothing but pain and suffering.
The heat from the candles was becoming unbearable. The hot wax began to burn into her flesh she began to jolt in pain, trying desperately to shake the burning candle from her skin to no avail. He tightened the belts that he used to tie her to the bed to limit her mobility. He then took a wooden spoon and began tapper her thigh lightly at first, and then with increased intensity the more she struggled. He finished reading a second poem and taped it to her chest, burning it as he had done with the first one. This went on for another half an hour.
This was the longest Molly had been awake during any of her torture sessions. Ever since she resolved to fight back, she had gotten better at subduing the pain and staying awake. She tried not to bring too much attention to herself, as she feared if he noticed her being awake he might increase the intensity of the brutal acts he was so fond of. After he was finished with this batch of poems he began rubbing some sort of cream on her burns. This was the most humiliation part to her, after he would inflict the damage to her body he would then proceed to dress her wounds and nurse her back to full health.
During the torture phase he was cold, distant it was almost as if he wasn’t even in the same room. He changed when he slipped into his doctor role. He was programmed to be a caring and nurturing individual. As he would treat her wounds he would quietly sing her lullabies, gently stroking her hair and comforting her as you would a sick child.
Then he would bandage her up, cover her naked body with a wool blanket and kiss her gently on the cheek. Then he would whisper in her ear how much he missed her and would always cherish his fond memories of his loving wife. Then he would leave the room, it might be days before he returned with a new routine.
Molly was beginning to wonder if her ex-husband was ever going to amount to anything. She divorced the bastard because he hit her and then told her how much he hated her. She never understood how he could be so distant and keep all that hate bottled up inside for so long.
She always knew eventually it would bubble over but she never suspected he would take it this far. She knew this man who was inflicting such brutal suffering upon her was not her husband, but she also knew he was still responsible for her current situation. Molly knew the moment he stood on her door step that there was going to be trouble.
It had been nearly six years after the divorce that he just showed up one day, unannounced asking if he could talk to his daughter. It was just days before Melodies fifteenth birthday and he claimed he wanted to spend some time with this daughter before it was too late.
Molly had her reservations right from the start, after all he had shown no interest in his offspring for so long she hardly believed he had suddenly developed into a dad. Yet Molly was once a teenage girl herself and she knew that if there was one thing Melody wanted more than anything, it was a meaningful relationship with her father. Looking back on it now Molly knew there were warning signs and her gut instinct told her to just slam the door shut on him and be done with it.
As a mother she wanted nothing more than to know her daughter was still alive and had been spared from the life she feared had befallen her. Molly hated even thinking about what had become of her cherished child, having vivid memories of seeing the video tape her husband showed her that night he kidnapped her.
The video tape clearly showed a bunch of Venezuelan smugglers handing George a suit case full of money and escorting Melody, hands tied behind her back, bound and gagged they shoved her into the trunk of a very large car and drove off into the distance.
The video tape then cut away to a shack where a woman had been bound and had her face covered by a gunny sack. This was the part where her memories began to fade. She watched the woman covered in blood, beaten and torn sitting on a chair she was tied to struggling for her life. There was a quick cut and then there was Molly sitting in the same chair, tears streaming down her cheeks, her eyes wide in fear as she was looking into a video camera where her husband was telling her that her life was about to end. He then cut Molly up and tore pieces of her bloody clothes and tossed the shreds all over the room.
She was drugged and dragged out of the room. She would not remember the next part as all she remembered next was waking up here, tied to this bed, her bones broken and bruises all over her body. They showed her the video tape her first day of regaining consciousness, which apparently had been nearly two weeks later. In the video she watched the woman whose face was covered, be fed head first into a wood chipper.
What came out on the other side was a bloody pulp that was in no way recognizable as human remains. Then there was a cut away to another scene that brought total terror to Molly when she first witnessed it. These two men had conspired against her for crimes she had never committed. In their warped, twisted minds they came to blame her for atrocities she had nothing to do with. They felt that somehow she didn’t deserve the life she was living.
As she looked back on that night he husband came to her doorstep all she could do was replay those images over and over in her head, hating herself for not listening to her gut instinct.
Stephanie Bri 