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One by one, they were all taken into a large underground room, where each, still naked, was chained in an X pattern to a wall. Nathan was chained to the wall on the left. Doc was fastened to the end wall. Evelyn went to the wall on the right. Then they were left alone there.
They could see each other, and they could see in their minds what was going to happen.
Evelyn examined her binding chain. It had been wrapped around her wrist in a double-loop before being secured with a small padlock. Each ankle was the same. The room was concrete, and chilly. The floor was damp and stained. It had the smell of a slaughterhouse.
"You look beautiful, Evelyn. I've never seen you more lovely." Doc said.
"You look quite beautiful yourself, Mom. You have a striking figure."
Evelyn turned to Nathan. "I hope they don't hurt your testicles, Nathan."
He smiled. "Okay, here's my plan ..."
They all laughed.
The door opened. "Well, I never expected to hear laughter in here. Other than my own, of course." The man closed the door, locking it, and walked boldly into the room, looking triumphantly at his victims.
He wore what looked like a toreador's outfit; a puffy white blouse and tight pants. He walked over to a cabinet and opened it, taking out things and placing them on the table; knives, whips, other things looking sharp and painful, and likely not even having names at all.
It was Carlos.
About the author
Bobby G. Wells, writing as Brian B. HawthorneBrian Hawthorne lives with his wife and two children in Maryland. One of those "quiet types" that you would never suspect.As an avid reader and Science Fiction fan, he is following a prescription written by Dr. Isaac Asimov; that any reader, after long enough, will want to write.To that end, he writes for his own entertainment, and that of his readers. With creative exuberance, he tells of relationships, ingenious conveniences, and stubborn human behaviors.
