Page 5 of Unbinding the Demon

Exhausted, I crashed onto the unmade bed and closed my eyes in sweet relief. The long day was over, and I could finally relax in the dark cave that was my room. I stayed there for a moment, absorbed in the soothing sound of heavy rain pelting down on the roof above. Tempted as I was to let sleep overtake my senses, curiosity got the better of me. I flicked on the dim salt lamp that rested on my nightstand and reached into my bag in search of my aunt’s old journal.

How the hell did that guy even get this?

The tips of my fingers danced over the smooth binding. My stomach twisted, and I felt somewhat anxious as I opened the first page. My eyes wearily grazed over the words while I read about her secret feelings for the mailman, and how she would ‘accidentally’ check the mail in her racy blue bathrobe each time he was due to show up... Wait? Aunt Elowynn was thirsting for the mailman? I let out a small laugh. Here I was thinking that I’d find some creepy tales regarding her odd obsessions with the occult, yet it seemed like an ordinary journal.

A loud knock interrupted the mailman saga that I was now very invested in. “Gwendolyn! You’d better be getting ready for Amelia’s party!” Lacey shouted through the door.

God motherfucking dammit!

“Um, I haven’t started yet. I wanted to see what you were wearing first,” I lied, trying to make it sound like I hadn’t completely forgotten... I had completely forgotten.

“Girl, I know you’re lying. You forgot, didn’t you?” She barged into the room with a you’ve-been-busted scowl on her face. “I had a feeling this would happen, which is why I already have a cute, color-coordinated outfit idea in mind.” I groaned as she grabbed my hand and dragged me off the bed. “Come on!”

She rummaged through my closet and pulled out a short black dress with straps criss crossing over the exposed back, cap sleeves, and a flowy skirt. It was one of my favorites; I had to admit. “Put this on and meet me in the bathroom,” she ordered, and then walked out of the room.

I sighed, slipped into the dress, and headed downstairs. Lacey was wearing a short crimson dress that accentuated her voluptuous curves. It had one long sleeve and left her other shoulder bare. She was applying black lipstick, which matched her eyeshadow. Without even glancing my way, she placed a tube of crimson lipstick in my hand. It was no doubt intended to match her outfit, as hers matched mine, completing our coordinated look.

“Alright, let me at least throw my hair up first,” I said while twirling my long locks into a messy bun.

“Make way, chiquitas, I’m coming in.” William’s face squeezed into the mirror above ours.

The three of us perfected our makeup, crammed in the tiny bathroom mirror like one of those awkward family photos where everyone’s squished on top of one another. My dark circles seemed rather resilient against the coating of concealer I slathered on, but other than that, I didn’t look too bad. I tried to work with them and put on some grungy eyeliner. Meanwhile, William created a flawless and dramatic smoky eye with ease. The guy had some serious cosmetic skills. And Lacey enhanced her natural beauty with a dark and mystifying look.

A quick knock on the door interrupted our beautifying frenzy. “That’s probably Darrell,” Lacey said while touching up her black eyeshadow. “He’s always a bit early.”

“I’ll get it. I’m done messing around with this anyway.” I put my tube of mascara down and walked out of the fruity hairspray-scented bathroom.

I opened the front door, and sure enough, Darrell greeted me with his charming smile. The man had godlike good looks, high cheekbones, a square jaw, big dark brown eyes, the works. I would say that I was shocked Lacey managed to bag and tag such a trophy of a man, but he was the one who caught her. “Hey, Gwendolyn, is everyone ready to go?” There was a friendly twinkle in his eyes while he held the screen door open with his shoulder.

“I think they might need another minute or two, but they should be done soon,” I smiled and then stepped aside to welcome him in. I had always been glad that Lacey found someone who was genuinely kind-hearted and gentlemanly. We had been best friends since elementary school, so I was rather protective of her.

“There she is!” Darrell exclaimed with a wide grin as Lacey skipped to him.

He caught her in his brawny arms and swung her around, eliciting a melodious giggle from her. They shared a modest kiss and then smiled nose to nose. She ran her hand over his short, twisted black curls and down his stubbly cheek, lovingly smiling up into his eyes. The royal blue shirt he had on complemented her crimson dress, and it looked like they belonged on a poster advertising the ideal couple.

Lacey turned to holler down the hall. “William, hurry up! We’re leaving!”

“Hold on, bitches, I’m still working on my wings!” William shouted back from the bathroom.

“Well, you’re holding us all up, you snail!” Lacey laughed.

“I said hold on!” William leaned out of the bathroom doorway, using his long, thin arm to catapult a small makeup brush at her while screeching like a bird.

Once everyone was ready, we scrambled through the heavy rain to Darrell’s light gray Nissan. The car was so immaculately clean that I felt uncomfortable getting in with my now semi-muddy shoes. But being the gentleman that he was, Darrell insisted it was fine. I scooched into the back with William, thanked Darrell for the ride, and tried to keep my sleepy eyes open as we headed off to the party.

“Gwendolyn... Gwenny-love... We’re here.” William’s vivacious voice drifted through my slumbering thoughts as he tapped my face.

My groggy eyes opened after a moment of resistance. I was lying on my side with my head on his lap, becoming aware that I had dozed off on the way over. The scent of an autumn spice car air freshener filled my senses while I sat up and blinked at him sleepily. The dim light from his phone screen lit up his amused face.

“How long was I out?” I peered over at the empty front seats while fixing my hair, surmising that Lacey and Darrell must have already gone inside. My nap couldn’t have lasted over ten minutes, but I felt a little sprightlier.

“Not that long. I needed to text Oliver during his break, so I let you snooze for a little longer.” He shot me a smile while unbuckling his seatbelt. “Now come on, let’s go!”

We held hands as we rushed through the rain puddles and approached the gigantic house. Music blasted loud enough to reach across the yard, and many shenanigans were already occurring on the front porch. The house, like many in Sycamore Valley, was old yet well-kept. Its bright diamond-paned windows showed glimpses of the lively party inside. Amelia was the keyboardist for a semi-popular local darkwave band. She rented the place with her bandmates, allowing them to coordinate practice times without difficulty.

The large double doors opened before us, revealing a sea of bodies crammed like a can of sardines, making my anxiety spike through the roof. Nineties goth music blared loud enough to shatter the windows. The stench of tobacco and weed smoke wafted through the air like a suffocating miasma. People were dangling off the balcony. One guy wore nothing but a giant sombrero. Another guy was going around, filling up everyone’s solo cups with an oversized squirt gun full of booze.

I lost William while bumbling my way through the rowdy crowd. It was doubtful that Amelia had considered the possibility of rain when she’d invited this many people. It seemed like no one wanted to be out back on the patio, so we were all crowded inside together.

After grabbing some spiked fruit punch, I found a quiet corner in the main room where I could take a few deep breaths to ease my crowd anxiety. I enjoyed parties, but this was downright overwhelming. Plus, being so tired had me considering crawling under a table and passing out. I recognized a few attendees; I felt no need to speak with them though. And so, I stood there, awkwardly sipping my drink and putting on my best I’m-here-to-have-fun-but-don’t-actually-talk-to-me face.

I wondered what William was off doing. But knowing him, he was likely hanging out with all the stoners. Lacey was practically velcroed to Darrell’s arm among the sweaty crowd, laughing with a few girls from her tennis team. I still had yet to even see Amelia. The endless sea of bodies made it impossible to spot her short frame. I considered going over and joining Lacey. Her teammates were quite nice and had come to the house a few times. Yet I felt glued to the safety of my corner by an irrational feeling of apprehension and social awkwardness.

“Hi, I’m James.” A cute brunette guy spun around and leaned his back against the wall right beside me in one smooth motion. His beautiful ocean-blue eyes surveyed the crowd, and then he glanced my way to flash a knee-weakening smile that oozed confidence. He wore a pair of ripped jeans and an open black leather jacket, revealing a death metal band tee underneath. So, obviously, I was already wrapped around his finger.

“Oh, hi. I’m Gwendolyn, Amelia’s friend.” I smiled with a tiny wave, hoping that he didn’t notice the blush creeping across my cheeks.

The small silver piercing on his left eyebrow gleamed as he leaned in a bit closer. I sucked in a breath, inhaling a whiff of vetiver cologne. “Well, Gwendolyn, you look kinda lonely hanging out over here all by yourself.” He took a sip from his cup, glancing around again as he did so. “I thought you could use some company.”

“Yeah...” I drawled while twirling my almost-empty drink. “I didn’t actually want to come to this thing, but I had promised a few of my friends that I would. I’m not the biggest fan of large parties.”

“Understandable,” he chuckled against the rim of his cup before taking another sip. “Well, there aren’t too many people in the kitchen, plus there’s a better drink selection in there. You should come with me,” he paused. “Unless you want that guy giving you a refill, that is.” He nodded to the guy with the squirt gun. He was now crouching over another guy on the floor, shoving the tip of the squirt gun into the poor fellow’s mouth while holding it at his crotch. It looked like he was making the dude deep-throat the thing as he squirted an overflowing amount of alcohol into his gagging, sputtering mouth.

I turned to him with the most alluring smile I could muster and polished off my drink. “Let’s go to the kitchen.”

About an hour later, I was smashed. And I mean really fucking smashed . James and I had been hitting it off rather well, or so I thought. We’d been talking and laughing over an oversized bottle of white wine, seeming to have a lot in common. I was thinking that I might have made a new friend. Or even a potential boyfriend, judging by how flirtatious he was acting. His blue eyes lustfully raked over my wobbly figure while he poured me a shot of vodka.

“Isn’t it a bad idea to mix different types of alcohol?” I giggled with a tiny hiccup while accepting the shot.

“Terrible,” he responded, and then downed another shot.

With a loopy laugh, I threw my head back and drank it, feeling the liquid burn its way down my throat and into my gut. “Fuck, that’s really intense.” I strained my neck and blinked my bloodshot eyes a few times to compose myself.

Before I knew it, his lips were crashing down onto mine, taking me by surprise... Oh my! I melted into the kiss, leaning into his touch as his fingertips caressed up and down along my side in slow, sensual movements. It was sloppy and uncoordinated, with the taste of alcohol lingering between us, yet I was too drunk to even care. I reached out and squeezed his strong bicep, my fingers crinkling his leather jacket.

“Follow me,” he whispered, his voice low and enticing in my ear.

His fingers laced through mine, and he led me out of the kitchen. The party was still pretty crazy in the main room. I even had to step over some passed-out guy while following James up the stairs. I didn’t know where he was taking me, and I kind of just went along with it in my intoxicated stupor. We entered a dark, messy bedroom. There was a drum set in the corner, a bong next to the bed, and the walls were decorated with various band posters. The room was illuminated solely by the faint glow of a small fish tank and the intermittent flashes of lightning coming through a glass door leading onto a balcony.

James shut the door behind us and locked it. Before I could even ask what we were doing in some random guy’s bedroom, his body pinned mine against the wall. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” I slurred as he began pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the side of my neck.

“Don’t even try to tell me you don’t want this.” He ground his hard erection against my body, moving his hips in firm circles that conveyed his desire.

“Well, yeah, I do. You’re really hot and all, but not now!” I tried to push him away, but I was way too drunk to make his much larger frame even budge. “I hardly even know you!”

He reached out and roughly squeezed my throat with one hand. Twinges of panic tugged at my gut, and I let out a whimper. His other hand lifted my dress and slid up along the silky length of my inner thigh. “I saw the way you were looking at me down there. Just relax and let it happen. Trust me, you’ll like it.” He seized the area between my legs with a forceful grip. His thumb started caressing the front of my panties right over my clit, causing my body to respond against my will.

“Stop!” I cried. “Please, stop. I don’t want this right now!” My voice was just above a pleading whisper. The back of my throat burned with disgust. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stop him in my current intoxicated state, and I felt ashamed that my body was betraying me.

“Yes, you do...” he huskily purred into my ear while his middle finger slipped beneath my panties and glided through my wet heat. “You’re so wet.” My heart pounded, and tears began to slide down my cheeks. I couldn’t believe this was happening, and my idiotic drunken mind was failing to devise a reasonable way out of it.

How could I have been so stupid and trusting?

I gazed up into his eyes, shaking my head and hoping that he would change his mind. That’s when I blinked, seeing two large hands emerging from the darkness. An expression of pure horror contorted my face as they grabbed James’s head from behind and then— SNAP! He fell to the floor, dead like an electrocuted rat. I stared at James’s limp body in complete shock. The wheels turning in my head were practically smoking as I struggled to comprehend what I had just witnessed.

Holy shit! Is he actually dead?

The scream that was building in my throat was swiftly muffled by one of those huge hands as it clamped down over my mouth, pinning the back of my head against the wall. “Shhh ... Be quiet, Buttercup,” a deep whispering voice cooed. I stood there with wide, terrified eyes, face to face with none other than that fucking jerk, Ashton.

How the flying flamingos did he even get in here!? I didn’t see the door open at all! I thought it was locked! I didn’t even see him downstairs at the party!

“Come on, let’s get out of here!” A psychotic grin was plastered on his murderous face as he gripped my struggling body and dragged me toward the balcony.

Lightning flashed and the heavy rain pelted down upon us as he opened the door, soaking through my dress almost instantly. I flailed my arms and tried to scream, even though his hand still muffled my voice. I caught a terrifying glimpse of the wet, puddle-ridden yard below and almost had a heart attack. We were on the second floor, and the height made me feel quite disoriented.

Oh my god, is he going to throw me off!?

I freaked out and started to squirm frantically in a lame attempt to get away. His suffocating hand released my mouth, allowing the terrified screams to escape from my burning lungs. “Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! I won’t tell anyone what you did! Just let me go!”

Paying literally no attention to my cries of distress whatsoever, he threw me over his shoulder like I was nothing more than a weak little rag doll. He then proceeded to climb over the fancy cast-iron railing, using his towering height to effortlessly swing his beanstalk legs onto the outer side. I kicked and screamed while pounding on his back and pulling at his long, wet hair.

“Would you quit squirming?” He bounced me and held me a bit firmer, his large hands spreading over my butt and thighs. “Honestly, you’re acting like I’m the one who attacked you.”

My blood froze when I realized exactly what he intended to do. “Please put me down,” terror laced my wary voice.

“Trust me,” was all he said before leaping off like a madman.

I let out the loudest, most blood-curdling scream I’d ever screamed in all my life as we plummeted down onto a very unfortunate flowerbed below. Unbelievably, he somehow landed on his feet as if he were the fucking bionic man. I was still slung over his shoulder, gripping onto him for dear life like a cat trying to avoid a bath. It was shocking that we’d survived the drop unharmed.

My survival instincts kicked in, and the wetness from the rain allowed me to wiggle out of his grip. I flopped to the muddy ground, crushing a few poor petunias as I did so. Then, I sprinted around the house, desperately yelling for help. Unfortunately, I was still very drunk, and the grass was very slippery, causing me to ungracefully slip and fall onto my face. Not even a single second later, Ashton was on top of me, pinning me down in a grassy puddle.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” he sneered in my ear like a rabid animal.

Little splashes bounced all around us while I struggled and screeched beneath him, flailing my limbs like a fish stranded on land. In desperation, I glanced up at the light from the sheltered front porch in the not-too-far distance. William was there with a couple of others, laughing and smoking that forbidden devil’s lettuce.

“William!” I screamed for him, which caught his attention. A wide grin stretched across his face when he saw me pinned down by the crazed behemoth of a man; then he laughed.

“Gwendolyn, you naughty little fox!” he shouted in amusement, with his blonde bun comically bouncing on top of his head. “Finally gettin’ some action! Woo!”

Oh-my-fucking-god...

Is he so high right now that he actually thinks I’m getting it on with this monstrous maniac in the middle of the dark, soaking-wet front lawn!?

“No! It’s not what you think! I need help! He’s a murderer! Help!” My lungs felt like they were going to burst due to how loud I screamed. Yet he still couldn’t understand me over the loud music coming from inside the house mixed with the sound of the heavy rain hitting the roof above him. He just grinned some more and continued cheering me on.

“Woo! You go, girl!” he yelled enthusiastically and pumped his fist high above his head, almost tripping over the slippery wooden railing like a loon.

Ashton grabbed my left leg, then he began swiftly dragging me face down across the lawn like an absolute brute. I screamed and clawed at the grass as I was pulled behind a big old oak and out of sight. He pressed me against the rough tree, using his forearm to pin my straining neck in place. “Listen up, Buttercup. I’m trying to get us out of here,” he growled. Like, actually growled . “It would be a lot easier if you’d just fucking cooperate!” He looked both evil and psychotic in the rainy darkness. There was even a little dead leaf sticking out of his wet hair.

“I don’t want to go anywhere with you! You’re a murderer!” I pathetically kicked at him. “I promise I won’t tell anyone what you did! But please, let me go!” I attacked again with frantic little slaps against his chest.

“Yes, I’m a murderer. And that’s exactly why we both have to leave.” It almost seemed like he was enjoying my distress. My attempts at fighting him off were futile, because he simply picked me up and threw me over his shoulder once more. He casually carried my struggling body over to a black sedan that was parked next to the road. My foot flew out, and I tried to kick off against the side of the car while he opened the front door. “Get in there!” He roughly shoved me inside. Some stoner dude who was heading back to the party saw the whole thing and watched Ashton with a worried expression.

“She’s a rumbustious one, but I’m a lucky guy to have wedded such a smoldering vixen.” He chuckled with a wide, devilish grin.

“Auh-ha-ha, oh that’s your wife, haha, right on, man. Right on.” They fist-bumped each other through the air, then Ashton climbed into the car.

I can’t believe this!

Two people just witnessed this menace kidnapping me and neither of them realized what was happening!?

I’m fucked! This world is fucked! And fuck marijuana!

“Where do you live?” he asked while starting up the car. The engine rumbled, and my anxiety shot through the roof. His eerie golden gaze peered through the dark strands of wet hair curtaining his intimidating glower and seemingly straight into my soul. It was unsettling.

“Are you fucking insane!? I’m not telling you where I live!” I shouted and slapped at him like a terrified, drunken lunatic.

“Alright,” he shrugged. Then, without any hesitation at all, he started to drive, ignoring all my assaults.

I froze, watching as the shadowy woods passed us by. “Wait! Where are you taking me?”

“Back to my place, since you won’t tell me where you live,” he said in a matter-of-fact way with a relaxed shrug. “It’s probably for the better. You’re highly intoxicated right now.” His eyes swept over my body as if assessing my inebriated state.

“Okay, okay! I’ll tell you! It’s 13 Elmwood Drive! Now take me home right this instant!”

“Nope, too late. We’re already almost there.”

-Twenty Minutes Later-

“Take me home right fucking now, you, you menace!”

All the slapping and kicking was beginning to tire me out. Nothing I did seemed to even slightly hurt the guy. In desperation, I had even tried bending down and biting his forearm while growling and trying to tear his flesh off like a rabid dog. It felt like trying to chew through an old boot and didn’t even make him flinch... Whose skin is actually that thick?

The car turned, and we slowly drove up a long, winding driveway leading deep into the ominous woods. The headlights beamed upon a large, abandoned-looking Victorian house. White paint was chipping and had turned to moldy dark gray around the edges. Moss and vines grew wildly up the sides and over onto the sharply angled roof. The ramshackle sheltered porch was covered in cobwebs and stretched across the entire front of the building. It wrapped around the decrepit, lofty tower and out of sight.

Lightning flashed, illuminating a thick spruce forest that menacingly loomed behind the house. Ghostly fog blanketed the ground and swirled just beneath the eerie building. Large dark windows enticed the imagination to envision the harrowing eyes of lost souls mournfully peering out through the glass. The whole place gave me a foreboding feeling, and I desperately wanted to get the heck out of there.

It was the perfect home for a murderer... Fuck.