Forgive Me by Kateri Stanley (reading strategies book TXT) 📕

ribs ache from the exertion. Sofia’s cries vibrate in my ears. She knows you’re in danger. I can't lose you, not now. Not ever. Fight him, Stripe. Fight him with all of your soul. I can't lose you. Please, please. Fight him. As much as you can. He pushes on your windpipe with his palm and I scream louder. I pray even more. I know you can do this.

I hear you growl and then the knife whips out slashing him across the face. The blood sprays, he yells, eyes livid and fiery, clutching at his new wound. You scurry, picking yourself up. He wipes the blood, it drips marking his chest, he was right, he’s not healing. “You fucking cunt!” he shouts. “You're so fucking dead.”

With the remote still in hand, he pushes a button and another door in darkness swings open. Two bodies emerge, arms and legs contort. Rather than human speech, wolf barks and cat like clicks slither from their inhumane mouths. I can’t hear their heartbeats, they might as well be ghosts in this room.

Isaiah glares at me, blood is dripping down his arm. “You don't recognise your other siblings, do you brother?” I've never seen them before. “We weren't the only creations. Meet the twins. Look at what your blood has done to them.”

Their faces are deformed, their eyes are hollow. The shock pinches at my skin, tears begin to fall, for the first time as an adult. I haven’t cried since I was a little boy.

“When Paul and Victoria died,” he begins to speak, “they burnt everything, destroying all of their data. They fired the staff and then they threw me out like garbage. I had to fend for myself. The twins had nothing, we had nothing. I couldn’t leave them out here, they wouldn’t survive. I had to look after them, nobody else would. Peter was an evil man. How can someone be so heartless and do this to two innocent children?”

Where life once was, the twins no longer possess it. I see the outline of a potentially feminine feature; straggly hair hangs and the curve of an Adam’s apple. Their minds are no longer their own, the functions of prey and predator is all that is left. Your father must have hidden them from the world. I can't even begin to imagine what they must have gone through; I don't want to picture it.

“I...I...I didn't know about this,” you say, you begin to cry again. “I'm so sorry.”

The female twin barks angrily, glaring at you. Animalistic hatred grating her vocal cords.

Isaiah smiles. “Apologies won't save you anymore, Stripe. They enjoyed scaring your mom for a while, I was tempted to let them have her but I thought it was best for you to see them first. I want you to think about how afraid you are right now, then think about how it must have been for them. They were children. Innocent brown eyed angels, so beautiful and sweet before your vile creature of a father got to work on them. We never got a chance at this life. Your father and his friends stole it from us.” He turns to the twins. “Kill the baby.”

Your eyes race to mine. In fear.

“Go,” I say. “Run.”

You swivel on your heel and disappear out the door, the twins hiss rapidly.

“Well, don’t keep her waiting,” he says.

The twins wait for a few moments, scoping out their tactics and then they hurry out charging behind you. My heart dances a double beat as my wrists are free behind my back. He turns to me, his smile fading to rage when he realises I'm free. He must have heard the snap of the rope.

“Try and hurt me,” I say, clicking my dislocated wrist back into place.

He screams, rushing towards me. He's forgotten, I can play this game too.

Chapter Forty-Four

Stripe nearly fell over when she found herself in the infamous corridor, the place which had changed everything. Her limbs shook from the remnants of the electric shocks. Her mind was attacked with momentous nostalgia and pain. What are those things?

She screamed for Beverley and Sofia, her throat burning. She heard the twins rushing behind her, her baby crying, her mother wailing, accompanied by two other banshee screams.

Stripe ran up the corridor, Beverley’s muffled voice getting clear as she drew nearer. It was the exact room where she'd found the photograph. Stripe burst through the door, nearly ripping it off its hinges. Her heart froze when she saw her.

Beverley stood on the balls of her feet like a ballerina. Rope was lashed around her neck. She was tied to a wooden beam on the ceiling. The camera blinked three times and the sheer terror in her face shone brightly.

“Momma...” Stripe whispered.

She heard three clear clicks and Beverley dropped from the platform, the rope wrenched around her neck, breaking it immediately. Ted and Grace soon fell like a pack of cards in the exact same fashion. There must have been a catch on the door linked to a mechanism, to be triggered when opened. At that moment, she understood why Beverley was wailing, she must have been telling her not to come into the room. Now she was left staring at the hanging and swinging bodies of her mother and Ted and Grace Payne.

No...

Stripe raced forward, pulling Beverley from the rope. “Mommy...Mommy wake up!”

Beverley said nothing. Stripe ripped her blouse open and began to perform CPR. She remembered receiving some basic training in college. She folded her hands over the centre of Beverley’s chest. Push. Fire erupted in her injured arm, she had to ignore it. Push. Push. Push. Push. Push.

Nothing.

Stripe pinched Beverley’s nose, breathing heavily, pushing air into her mouth. She repeated the same procedure over and over again but Beverley still didn't stir. “No...” she whispered, pain spreading out like spider webs across her chest. The light had already faded from Beverley's eyes. Stripe looked over at Ted and Grace, their spirits had gone. Their hands intertwined