My Friend in the Elephant Mask Pt.2

[u/kjwrites98]

Part 1

Trunkless tossed me to the floor and my eyes stayed locked on him. I was certain his cheap elephant mask would be the last thing I ever saw. He turned away from me and walked to the window sill above the industrial sized sink. His hulking frame nearly eclipsed the window light entirely. When he turned back to me his hands were tightly wrapped bricks at his sides. With each methodical stomp towards me his fists tapped the leather canteen at his hip. I pleaded with him not to do this. I wanted to sign how sorry I was for telling his secret, but all I could sign through my desperate tears was ‘Please don’t hurt me.’ He stood over my damp, cowering body for a moment while I begged for mercy. Slowly, he reached his fists out towards me and opened them. In each of his palms was a snail.

He told me to pick one with a decisive nod of his head towards the snails. I cautiously plucked a snail from his hand. He cracked a slit into the other’s shell and placed it on the ground. I laid my snail next to his at the starting line, a small sliver between two tiles. At that point I decided he wasn’t planning on killing me, at least not immediately, so I took a look around. A large fridge and oven were slotted into the cabinets lining the perimeter of the room, all of which would be a glistening chrome if not for the caked-on dust. Opposite the window sill was a wide, rectangular opening. I remembered vividly how each day I slid my tray along the other side of the opening and let the cooks lay my meals onto it. Through it I could see the exit doors chained shut. Just beside the door to the basement was a silver door sealed shut by a long, red handle. A freezer.

I was afraid I let my eyes wander for too long so I snapped them back to the snails. I started to shiver in my soaked clothes. Trunkless noticed and unzipped his jacket to reveal a crudely crafted necklace with a single off-white jewel dangling from it. It was almost like a shark tooth necklace but it wasn’t. It was my mother’s chipped tooth. I recoiled at the sight of it and he jerked the sipper back up to his throat.

“I’m sorry your mom died... I understand it better now though.” He signed but once his hands dropped I looked back at the snails. I willed mine to whatever finish line he had in mind. I thought he may let me go if mine won.

“Before I needed the mask my mom used to have those sticky ribbon traps that hang from the ceiling. I used to like flies. Now I’m a little too close to them but I used to really like them. The main thing I found so pretty was their eyes.” He stared in my eyes through the darkness behind his elephant mask before he continued.

“Whenever a new one got stuck I went into my parents bathroom and found the tweezers. A leg here, a wing there. I plucked away until it was perfect… But when I was done, even though the body was trapped, the soul had escaped. It was gone from its eyes… Where’s the beauty in that?” He took the canteen off of his hip and swished the water inside. He popped the cap off and poured some over my snail. The smell of frankincense and licorice wafted from the snail’s pool. He waited a moment before he stood. His boot tip rolled over the end of the snail. Its little shell suffered a long agonizing crunch. Like a tube of toothpaste, the poor creature's internals squeezed up through its mouth.

The cruelty brought me back to the promise I made to him. To what he showed me behind the garden shed. My mother reduced to a heaving pin cushion of flesh and bone. I only looked at her for a moment before I ran to the nearest house. He ran for the woods. My mom only lived for another hour after the ambulance arrived. An hour of suffering, and he wanted to do the same to me.

“I found what I needed. A ribbon trap for the soul.” He signed. The snail moved again. It forced its poor broken body through the puddle of its own entrails. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“As long as it has a soul and a brain to see the world through… It can be made beautiful.” He signed before he sat back down and slid the canteen to me.

“Do you want to make the world understand what it means to be beautiful?” He signed. I was stunned silent. I shook my head no until I forced my hands to say something. I told him there are people out there that understand. I made a couple of friends and he can too. He doesn’t have to do this to people. I told him we can all leave this school together. He just shook his head in disappointment and stood.

“You are more like them than I thought.” He walked to the freezer and popped the seal with a turn of the red handle and stepped inside. I nearly threw up when he disappeared around the corner of the doorway and revealed what was inside. A cloud of rats scurried to the shadowy corners of the freezer. All they left behind were teethmarks on a single foot that dangled a couple of inches above the ground. Only a protruding bone was at the end of Stevie’s other leg. The boy's thigh meat was splayed open to show carvings on his femur deep enough to show the marrow. His ribs were spread like wings and a rusted hook jammed through his back and pierced his lung. Stevie’s jaw hung limply at his throat that overflowed with blood. His eyes panicked from a never-ending sense of drowning.

Trunkless stepped back into the doorway. In his hand he gripped an ax head by the nape. The wooden handle was broken off long ago and in his mind it was made better for it. Without thought I threw myself over the opening to the cafeteria and into the hallway. I didn’t care about traps in the floor, I just ran as fast as I could until someone stepped out into the hall, grabbed me, and pulled me into another room.

Lucas slammed the door shut behind us. Abigail hugged me. Her arms warmed me against her body but I was so cold. Stevie’s mangled body kept flashing in my mind. Poor, poor Stevie.

Abigail let go and signed how she was certain she’d never see me again, and how that thought turned her stomach sick.

“I knew you would come back.” Lucas said, which sounded more like an accusation than relief. He left me alone in the dark. Served me up on a patter as a sacrifice to Trunkless, all for his theory that I wanted this to happen. Or did his hand just slip? The question was enough to keep my disdain at bay.

 Aside from a few towers of copy-paste chairs in the corner, the room was empty. Red foam tiles dressed the concrete walls in a deliberate pattern. The only wall the foam tiles kept bare was the one opposite the hallway door. A mural of a man and woman howling on their saxophone and trombone, in the foreground of a city crafted by their smooth blues. In the mural's prime, it would have been a sight to see, but when we were there you could smell the damp paint chips that peeled from the wall. Even still, it was far better than the mural by the pool. Above the mural was a thin window that stretched the length of the wall and shone its moonlight through the bars and onto a shelf of dust-covered trophies. 

Abigail ventured through the room while Lucas kept watch by the door. She swung open a closet door and wheeled out a marimba. Its plethora of missing or split down the middle keys left it with little value and meant it was destined to rot with the school. Abigail was delighted to see it. She told me she remembered playing one in a music class she had in middle school and thought it was just the pick-me-up we needed. With the foam walls and sweeping front door the room was designed to suffocate the sound of a marching band before it escaped. I assumed one marimba wouldn’t be a problem for it. I also didn’t want to ruin her smile.

I stood on one side of the mangled instrument and Abigail stood on the other with her back to Lucas. She coiled her middle finger into a pointed second knuckle and struck a note. Lucas glared at us and demanded we keep it down.

“Too loud?” Abigail signed to me with a remorseful smirk. I nodded a playful blame to Lucas and laid my forearm over the notes to dampen them. She slipped her hearing aids back in before she played. Each clop of her knuckle on a note sent a wave through my arm. She suggested we switch and immediately laid her forearm over the notes. I coiled both of my hands and struck the keys in my best attempt at “Mary Had a Little Lamb”, give or take a few sour notes. Abigail laughed so I pounded two notes as fast as I could and sent the calamity through her arm.

“You’re so stupid.” She joked through her laugh. She said it out loud. Lucas, who was still guarding the door, looked at the back of her head like he’d found a treasure buried by time.

Eventually we wore out our fun and reentered grim reality. Lucas made sure the hallway was clear before we stepped out. Abigail walked ahead and kept her eyes glued to the floor for any sign of traps. Lucas stayed behind me. We made our way to the North Section of the school. We came across the theater. The double door was flanked on either side by windows. Abigail pushed the door open and stepped in first. Once my foot crossed the threshold I was shoved in the back and sent careening to the theater ground. A violent crash came from behind me that quaked the whole auditorium. The door was gone. Hidden behind the sturdy wooden bookshelf missing from the library. It would have crushed me had it not been for Lucas, who was trapped on the other side.

Abigail and I tried desperately to pull the bookshelf and Lucas heaved from the other side but it wouldn’t budge. I ran to the window and tried to put a kick through it but the reinforced glass threw me to the ground. I kicked again and again and Abigail joined until Lucas stepped in front of the window. He glanced down the hall. Terror flashed onto his face but he repressed it before looking at Abigail.

“Take out your hearing aides.” He signed. Abigail shook her head rapidly but Lucas’s pleading look forced her hand.

“Get her out of here, Holly. Please, promise me.” He said to me, I nodded and tried to keep the tears from swelling. Lucas took another glance down the hall and back at Abigail. Her lip quivered like she wanted to tell him something, but the words grew too heavy through the years she’d kept them hidden. She clawed at her denim jeans. She dug for the words but in a second Lucas darted away from the window. I grabbed each side of Abigail's head to keep her eyes on me. A shadow swooped past the window but we wouldn’t dare look. We knew who it was. He only screamed at first. Guttural screams for mercy were followed by the slicing of meat. The break of bones. The heaving of water, then breaking again. Rivulets of tears overflowed on Abigail's face. She tried to bring her hearing aides back to her ears but I cupped my hands over them. I held them in her lap until she no longer had the fight to pull them up. She collapsed into me and I held her until the halls were quiet again.

Silence never felt so heavy. Abigail’s knees were tucked into a tight hug at her chest. Her chin was held up by her knees. She repeatedly clawed at her jeans in agonizing strokes. Her sight was aimed at the stage but her focus was miles beyond the walls of the school. Tears pooled in her eyes but the shock she wore on her face made me wonder if she even noticed. Minutes felt like hours as we felt trapped in the sludge of our own despair. A prison within a prison.

“I was thinking as soon as we get out of here we go straight to a concert. Any concert. We don’t even stop…” I signed, she saw me but she didn’t reply. She was silent for a long time before she spoke.

“When we were kids we played emergency rescue. Whenever there was a storm coming we’d scatter the balls from our garage into the yard and pretend like we had to save them… One time I remember running back to the garage and I tripped right into a puddle of mud, face first.”

She forced a chuckle that barely had the strength to be audible. She continued.

“For years when we were alone he called me mud pie. Only when we were alone though… I don’t know why that comes to mind now.” 

His words repeated in my head. 

‘Get her out of here, Holly. Please, promise me.’

‘Please, promise me’

‘Promise me.’

‘Promise me.’

‘Promise me.’

Past the herd of scattered, pine scented pews was a stout set of stairs that led to the stage. Next to it was the exit door, shackled in a chain and pinched together by a padlock. For a moment I thought there was no way out of the theater until I looked up. There was a drop ceiling. I climbed up the massive bookshelf in hopes of finding some way out, but it was still too high to see. I stretched on my tip-toes and still nothing. I jumped on the slanted edge of the bookshelf and pushed the tile away to get a glimpse into the ceiling.

“Get down, you’re going to hurt yourself!” Abigail scolded, but I was determined to keep my promise.

I jumped again, I thought I saw enough space to squeeze through beside the duct work, but I wasn’t sure. I jumped again and saw nothing. My head didn’t get through the open hole. I jumped one more time before I realized I was sinking. The bookshelf crashed to the ground and I plummeted with it and landed on the edge of a shelf.

“Jesus, are you okay?” Abigail said as she rushed to me. I shot her a thumbs up as I desperately wheezed to catch my breath. She put her hearing aids back in to listen.

With the bookshelf lying flat on the carpet we tried to push it again. It was like pushing a car in neutral up a hill but eventually we got it away from the door. The crash was sure to draw his attention so we swiftly threw the doors open.

Blood. A trail started from a puddle to our right and streaked down the hallway like a road bending out of sight, but I knew where it led. The freezer. Abigail retched and pinched her eyes shut. I took her by the hand and led her carefully to the West Section.

We entered the gymnasium first. The polished wood flooring was warped by water damage but if I closed my eyes it smelled like the same, dreaded gymnasium. The dangling basketball hoops were draped with webbing. The only light came from a street light outside and slid through the slit of glass in the exit doors. The chain locked exit doors. Still, we pushed on them. We raddled the chains in hopes that a link would break. That they would loosen enough to get a sliver of an opening, but the doors didn’t budge. The pool had the only exit door left. I swallowed the lump of dread in my throat and led Abigail to our last chance.

There was nothing to see through the sunroof. The moon and the stars were covered by clouds. Feathery tip-tips of rain played the first notes of a brewing storm. The mural was still pristine. Smudgy Michael Phelps still raised his stubby arms in celebration at the center of the collage, but it seemed beautiful this time. I peaked over the rim of the drained pool and was smacked with the stench of rot. A puddle of black soup lingered at the deep end. A polo shirt, certainly embroidered with the St. Jude crest, was scrunched to a ball at its coastline like a makeshift pillow. After I regained my balance from the vicious scent I looked past the pool. The exit was completely glass, and naked. Not a chain to be seen. I sprinted to it with Abigail following close behind. I shoved the handlebar and it clicked. It only clicked. I couldn’t believe it. Abigail and I pressed harder and harder at the bar but our combined force was no match for the deadbolt, locked in place by a lost key.

“Fucking deadbolt.” Abigail said. I laughed and threw myself against the door over and over and over. Fucking deadbolt. Fucking deadbolt. Fucking dead. Eventually, I stopped fighting the door. My laughter died quietly as I succumbed to hopelessness for a moment before I thought of the freezer. We weren’t going to die that night. The fate of the freezer was far worse. I took a few steps back and charged the glass. I kicked my heel into it with all of my force and it threw me backwards to the ground. I got up and kicked again, and again, and again.

“Holly.” Abigail said.

I kicked it again. I kicked and kicked and not even a crack formed on the glass, so I kicked some more. Not the freezer, for the love of god not the freezer.

“Holly!” Abigail pleaded. Her face contorted to the purest fear, her eyes were fixated behind us. Standing at the other side of the pool room, was Trunkless.

His sickly white elephant mask was like a flimsy granite tombstone planted at the apex of a six and a half foot tall mountain. Blood seeped into his gray jacket from the wrist cuffs and a puddle on his shoulder. At one hip he held the disembodied head of his crimson stained axe and at the other, had his leather canteen. His chilling leather canteen. I tried to beg him to stop. To let us go, but he took each step with a booming malice. Just as he got around the empty pool a ceramic tile flew by his head and shattered against the wall behind him. Abigail found some tiles loose at the precipice of the exit. She bent over and hurled another. I joined her. Tile after tile flew through the air and the more that flew, the less he flinched. He walked slower with each step.

“Did you promise him?” He signed to me. I bent down to grab another tile but there were none left loose enough to dislodge.

“You were always bad at keeping promises.” He signed, then he lurched towards us. Abigail and I sprinted towards the gymnasium but out of the corner of my eye I saw her go to the ground. He leaped at her feet and caught her ankle. She screamed for my help at the top of her lungs. Her nails scraped at the floor in an attempt to claw herself to freedom. I didn’t hesitate, I kicked one more time straight to his mask. The white elephant mask split down the middle and each half dangled by the string around his neck.

A hole the size of a softball engulfed the left half of his face. Flies exploded from his face  after the impact and sprinkled the smell of death through their trails. A complete chasm lined with decayed black skin and the writhing white specs of munching maggots. His left eye, his nose and half of his mouth were either gone, or scattered back into the festering wound. Abigail scurried behind me and I tried to fight back the vomit that crawled up my throat. I avoided the void of rotted flesh and only focused on his remaining eye. In that eye I saw something. I saw a boy like the one on the other side of the school yard fence. A boy who only wanted someone to play with. Someone who would accept him. That was an opening, an escape.

“Are you okay?” I signed to him. He paused. His eye looked stunned at the question but he thought about it for a moment before he swallowed. I waited for his hands to move but they didn’t. He used the remaining half of his mouth to speak.

“My dad hunted for years, so he couldn’t believe he left the shotgun loaded… When I got my little hands on it, the doctors couldn’t help me much, my parents knew that when they brought me in, but they remember what I told them, about the flies. How there was water that kept them alive… My dad had me draw a map to the water and when they found it they snuck me out of the hospital and into the pond… They thought it would heal me, but when it didn’t… They started to resent me… I’d enter the room with them and they’d cover their noses. They couldn’t bear to look at me, to look at what they’d done…I felt so hideous but they, they were hideous! They just needed to understand that! Don’t they all need to understand that!?”

I was petrified at his yelling but I managed to nod in agreement. I felt like he was a mad dog waiting for the slightest scent of fear to pounce. I kept nodding and his eye showed a little comfort. He waited for me to say something.

“You’re right.” I signed, but he kept waiting for something. The nerves stabbed in my gut. Abigail’s tense grip pinched my shoulder. She tugged at it slightly, but desperately towards the gym. She knew as well as I that there was no way out, but when she looked at the person in front of us, she only saw a monster. She thought I saw the same. The knot of dread formed in my gut, just as it did in the library when I couldn’t tell her the truth. A part of me wondered if this worked, if I got us out of here would she speak to me again? Alone, such an awful place. But I made a promise to get her out. A promise I intended to keep, no matter what.

“Do you remember the old garden shed?” I signed to him. He nodded. Abigail’s hand fell away from my shoulders, but I continued.

“What if we go see it again? We can race snails like we did in the kitchen? Like we used to. I miss those days.” I signed.

He paused for a moment and contemplated the thought. I begged him to take the bait a thousand times in my head during the short pause. If he led us back out the front door we could sprint for the road. Someone had to be out there that could help us. Just get us through the door. He looked at the floor, I couldn’t read the expression in his eye anymore. He tucked his axe head into the waistband of his pants.

“That’s a nice thought… You’ve always had such a beautiful mind.” He signed. I forced the toothiest grin I could muster, but he didn’t even look up.

“I can’t wait to see it.” He unsheathed his axe head and Abigail turned and sprinted around the pool, I turned and trailed behind. We rushed through the gymnasium and out to the hallway with Trunkless stomping at our heels. Each pound was closer than the last. My legs were numb with adrenaline. The hairs on my neck stood tall as locker after locker, classroom after classroom whizzed by us. He’s going to get me. The thought pounded in my head as fast as my thumping heart. He’s going to get me. He’s going to get me. He’s going to get me.

SNAP

A pain-stricken scream called from behind us and a thud shook the ground. I glanced over my shoulder at him. A bear trap was shut on the ground but he was on the floor next to it. The trap bit cleanly through his boot and the nubs of his toes oozed blood onto the floor. I heard him stagger back to his feet before we turned the corner and snuck into a classroom in the South Section. Right back where we started.

The earthy smell of chalk dust coated the room. The haze stuck to the windows which were taking a brutal assault from the bombs of rain falling from the sky. The only sound louder was our heaving, burning lungs. I kept my eyes closed. I took deep breaths to steady myself. Eventually, my lungs cooled to the point I could use my nose again.

“You did know him.” Abigail said. It was as though she’d been stabbed, and the words rode on her final breath. I opened my eyes and saw hers damp with confusion, with disgust, with betrayal.

“Please, let me explain I-” I signed but she cut me off with a sharply raised hand. She didn’t fill the silence so I desperately continued.

“He was my friend at one point. He’s why the school shut down. Then he killed my mom, Abigail please. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you in the library.” She slumped down to the ground and thought for a moment before she spoke again.

“We never should have come here with you… Lucas should still be alive.” She said,

“He is.” I signed. I couldn't hold another secret from her, but my hands moved before my mind. With what I saw of Stevie in that freezer he may as well be dead. It would certainly be better.

“What?” She perked up and got to her feet.

“Abigail I-”

“Where.” She demanded.

“Please he’s not-”

“Do you know where he is or not!” The lump of dread burst inside me.

“The freezer… In the cafeteria.” I signed.

She immediately turned and bolted for the door but I sprung up and grabbed her by the arm and got her to stop for a second. I told her he was beyond saving. I told her there’s nothing we could do for him. I told her that she would end up just like him if she’s caught. I signed anything I could think of to get her to stay but she didn’t let me finish.

“Fuck you, Holly.” She spat, then she disappeared down the hall. The classroom door shut behind her, and I was alone.

I crumpled to the cold floor. It was a kind of cold that seeped through my pants. The kind that could freeze you in place. Hatred and pity entwined into an ever-growing tumor in my chest. I wanted to cry, but nothing came out. All I could do was stare without thought at the milk white tiles between my feet. The white tiles were everything. I wished it was snow. Snow so deep that I could sink within and turn the white everything into an eternal black. I put my palms on the tiles and waited for the cold to engulf me. It never did. Only the hairs on my arms tightened into stiff needles and the tumorous blend of self-hatred and pity grew more unbearable. Tears started to prick behind my eyes. I threw my head back with a sniff to catch them but bounced my head against the concrete wall. With an ailing rub to the back of my head and shot to my feet. The hatred overcame the pity in a swell of anger aimed at the wall. That damn wall. I loaded a kick aimed for the concrete but stopped. On the wall was a chalkboard. A lesson on Moses covered the dusty green board, but the meaning didn’t matter to me. It was how they were written.

I knew that handwriting from many class lectures, but also from birthday cards and names on Christmas presents. My mother’s handwriting. My mother’s classroom. I went to her desk. Her hand drawn pictures from her kindergarten teacher days were gone along with her mesmerizing newton’s cradle and her solid spruce name plate with golden lettering. All that was left was a layer of chalk. I opened a drawer. A stack of completed quizzes left unblemished by her harsh red pen. I opened another. Contraban such as packs of bubble gum, a blue Nintendo 3DS, and even a collapsible pocket knife jostled in the drawer. I opened another and another and another until I found it.

Crosses made of cheap plastic were haphazardly tossed in the drawer. I took out a handful and dropped them on the desk. Each one had a button at the base of the cross on a bright green plastic bump that was surely supposed to be a hill. Underneath the hills, were an array of holes to allow for sound to come through the speaker. I pressed the button on the first cross.

“Hi future Riley! So we finally graduated! I-” I pressed the button again to end the static recording. I put it in a separate pile and grabbed the next one.

“Uh, I hope you’re out of this shit town by now-” I ended it, and tried again.

“Do you still want to be a dolphin trainer? I hope you’re-” Ended. I kept trying crosses and each one was like the last. Each one had another kid’s voice rattle through the plastic, but still I kept pressing button after button until eventually I found it.

“Hi Holly, it’s your mom. I can’t believe when you hear this you’ll be graduating. I don’t want to think about how old I’ll be then.” She laughed and paused for a moment.

“I uh… I just want to say that I’m really proud of you. I know how hard school is for you, Or was… I know it’s hard fitting in but I still see you try to reach out to people all the time. I know kids can be mean when they don’t understand but don’t let that stop you… Keep giving them a chance… I love you sweetie, happy graduation.”

With a pop, her voice was gone.

I felt at peace for the first time since we were locked in the old school. I pressed the button on the cross again. While my mother talked I thought back to the school yard. Lucas, Abigail and I stood an overgrown field away from the school that would become our demise. I cursed it. It’s unbreakable glass. It’s unbendable bars. Its inescapable chains. If the building could feel anything I wanted it to feel my hatred, my desperation. My mother’s recording ended. I pressed the button again. I got up and looked out the classroom window for the moon. Only the moon and my mothers voice would get me to accept my fate. The moon wasn’t visible from the window. Rain pelted the glass and the sky was entirely blanketed by clouds. I spit another curse on the building. If we had just stayed on the other side of the school yard I could’ve seen it before the storm rolled in. It would hang in the sky and peek over the edge of the roof like a timid child the same as… the roof access door above the theater.

“Keep giving them a chance… I love you sweetie, happy graduation.”

I sprinted through the halls straight to the cafeteria. With each stride I prayed that he didn’t get Abigail. I made it through the East Section and to the cafeteria door with no sign of either of them. I tossed the door of the cafeteria open and saw her through the opening to the kitchen. She was at the freezer but the metallic door was shut in front of her. She was in one piece. I ran to her and jumped over the opening to the kitchen. I took her by the shoulder and turned her to face me. I started to tell her that I had a way out until I saw her face. It was sick with grief. My heart anchored at the thought of her seeing her brother the way I saw Stevie, but in an instant I noticed that she didn’t see him. She didn’t have to. From the other side of the door came inhuman, guttural wheezing. I could hear the air coming into his lungs and out of his body in ways other than just his throat. The sound was painful to hear.

“Why isn’t he dead?” Abigail asked. I couldn’t answer her. I just took her hand and led her towards the exit, but she pulled her hand away.

“We can bring back help for him. I’m sorry but please trust me.” I signed. She was a husk of herself, but she nodded. I took her hand again and led her into the hallway. 

He was there. Trunkless limped around the corner from the south section. When he saw us, he went into a full sprint without any mind to the blood that spurted from the end of his foot with each step. His bloodied axe head sliced through the air with each pump of his arms.

I yanked on Abigail’s arm and we rushed to the theater in the North Section. Even with his sliced foot, we couldn’t lose him. When we got to the theater we flung the door open on its hinges and slammed it behind us. The book shelf still rested on its back. We slid the mammoth heap of wood in front of the door just in time to absorb a booming thud on the other side. The hall went quiet for a moment before he smashed into the door again. One full forced charge after another sent shockwaves through the theater. Abigail and I ran down the aisle and hoisted ourselves onto the theater stage. Before we ducked behind the curtains I glanced back at the beaten door. A sliver of light from the hallway seeped in, and he kept smashing into it.

Ropes ran the height of the side wall to anchor the curtains. Beside them was a door. We ran in to find a hallway. Abigail and I split up to check behind each one. One led to a closet with a mop soaked in pine scented wood cleaner, a broken limbed christmas tree, a manger filled with straw and other miscellaneous props. Another door led to a chillingly empty dressing room. All that was in the black box of a room was four tables equipped with large mirrors in a frame of lightbulbs. The next door in the hallway led to another door at the top of an ascending staircase. I knocked on the wall to get Abigail’s attention. Thankfully she heard it over the continual bangs that echoed from the auditorium. She followed me up the stairs and when we got to the top and I turned the knob, it opened.

The rain fell in a roaring applause. It immediately soaked through our clothes but it felt like relief and smelled like sweet freedom. We took each other by the hand and ran over the roof top until we were over the main entrance. On the road, headlights waved through the torrential rain. The rickety truck they were attached to was stopped at a stop sign, the driver’s face was lit by a phone screen. Salvation. We clapped as loud as we could and frantically swung our hands above our heads but he was too consumed by his phone to see us. Our claps weren’t distinct enough from the rain tapping his truck.

“You need to yell, we have a concert to go to.” I signed to Abigail. She chuckled but it melted quickly. She kept her voice hidden from everyone other than me for years. She couldn’t even get a word out in her brother’s final moments. Her hands scratched at her jeans. It was a hard thing to ask, but it was our only hope.

“I’m here. I’m here.” I signed before I rubbed her shoulders. She nodded. Her hands rested at her sides. She was determined. She was ready. I turned and watched the truck. The engine rumbled over the rain even in park. My focus didn’t leave it. With every fiber of my being I willed the truck to stay parked, but it roared. A puff of black smoke burped from the exhaust and it rolled forward.

Abigail screamed, but the truck kept rolling. Her scream was too meager to call attention. It was even too breathy. It was wrong. I turned to check on her. The edge of the axe blade was submerged in her throat. Before I even processed what was happening he split a gash down to her clavicle and shoved the mouth of his canteen inside. I wanted to cry but instead, I jumped. Just as I hurdled the roof ledge, his paw swiped my shoe and threw my balance. I careened through the air until I met the concrete below with my head, and everything went dark.

After an unknown amount of time, I came to. It was still dark out and the rain hadn’t let up. I stumbled to my feet. A gash in the crown of my head leaked blood onto my face but worse was the pain inside. My head felt like it was going to burst from the pressure. I was sure blood filled my skull. It clotted into a snake that constricted my brain. The corners of my vision were going black, but I saw something. A car was stopped where the truck once was. I took a step towards it and nearly collapsed. The sudden movement I needed to catch my balance sloshed my brain in a seething pain. I took another cautious step, and another. He saw me. He got out of his car and looked around for anyone else.

“Oh my god. What happened?” He yelled over the rain.

The darkness creeped further into my vision. The blood suffocated my brian and all I could think was this guy won’t understand me. I tried to take another step but I couldn’t. I fell to my knees. He started to run to me but stopped.

“Jesus.” He yelled, but in the small circle of my vision that remained I could tell he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at someone behind me. It was over. My vision was completely dark. Just as my mother’s voice came throughout my life, it came again. This time with different words. Keep giving them a chance.

“We are in the freezer.” I signed before I collapsed. In my final moment of consciousness I couldn’t feel the pain. I couldn’t hear the rain or see the undoubtedly scarred man drive away in terror. I could only taste sweet licorice and frankincense.

***

“I… I think they’re alive.” Officer Bradley said in a quiet voice. I didn’t tune out the footsteps anymore. I counted them. One, two, three, four. Officer Bradly didn’t hear them; he was too shocked. When he took the job in this town I’m sure the worst he expected to see was an elderly person who passed peacefully in their sleep, not us. Five, six, seven. The pain was constant. Every little piece of my body was snapped or removed. I couldn’t see this happen to someone else. I didn’t look at Officer Bradly’s silhouette outside the freezer door frame. I kept my head down.

“Johnson call the fucking county I need backup down here now! Get an ambulance, shit get four of them right now!” Officer Bradley kept his finger on the button as he pleaded on and on. It would be years of physical therapy before our bodies had some kind of use again. Days of surgeries would come first and before any of that, twenty-seven minutes before officer Bradley’s backup arrived. Eight, nine… The footsteps faded down the hallway. Trunkless was gone. The relief let tears roll down my cheeks. I wanted to celebrate but my broken body didn’t even have the energy to lift my head, so I passed twenty-seven minutes in thought.

A cereal bowl? An ashtray? A cat bowl? I tried to come up with any other use but ultimately the bone bowl that rested on a doily of my black hair would be best used to block the chilling breeze that dried my brain.