Page 14 of Wraith

Chapter Thirteen

She didn’t makethe knife move an inch in the short amount of time I was outside. But she still has time. Perhaps when I go hunting. The one single word she let escape her lips still echoes in my head.No. The way to get to her might just be to let her think I’m going to take advantage of her. She seems to have an issue when I got too close, not that a woman in her position wouldn’t, but her reaction seemed to carry an edge to it. Maybe she was assaulted in the past? Playing on that would make me a terrible person, but I already am one, so what would itmatter?

I go about my day, checking my battery-operated weather tracker, filling the wood pile next to the stove, all while watching her make little progress on the position of the knife. Each time I walk inside from carrying in a pile of wood, I swear the blade has moved a tiny bit further up the side of her body. It isn’t all that sharp, but if the person using it knewhowto use it they could do some serious damage. And she knows how. No fucking doubt about that. Giving her the blade might be the equivalent of signing my death warrant, but I see it as a challenge. A challenge to her and also a challenge to me. If she gets the blade to her hands and somehow sets herself free, maybe she will get what she wants or maybe I will get what I want—an explanation to why she ishere.

Finishing off my bowl of soup, I take it to the sink, rinse it out, and turn to her. “Any chance you need to pee?” She still lays there, stoic, not even a flinch as I step closer. “I’d rather you use a pot this time,” I say reaching down to grab the pan I set aside for her to use. There is a slight grimace to her features as I get closer. She knows I’m not going to let her go outside and if she needs to relieve herself, this is her only option. She doesn’t nod or even chance a glance my way. She only raises her hips far enough off the mattress for me to get the hint that she does need to go. I place the pan under her ass, lifting her just a slight bit more to pull her panties from herhips.

Now, I have been known to be on the kinky side of things but when it comes to the golden shower bit, it does nothing for me. So, I step away from the bed and slip my feet into my leather slippers to go outside, giving her the privacy that I probablyshouldn’t.

Standing in the brisk cold I wait, listening to the howl of the wind as I count down the seconds I give her. Three, two, one…turning the knob I open the door, “Ready or not—” I warn before stepping back into the cabin. She is still in the same position and its only when I start walking toward her that I realize I don’t have toilet paper in here. Only in the outhouse. I contemplate letting the girl drip dry but find myself taking a wash cloth and wetting it down to clean. I quickly go about taking care of the pan and cleaning her up before pulling her panties back into place, she continues to keep her focus from me and entirely on the wall. “There. Better than freezing to death while trying to kill me, wouldn’t you agree?” She still doesn’t move. “Sure as shit is for me,” I mumble as I drop down onto the chair, turning off the lamp I have scooted closer to me so she doesn’t get the wild idea to burn the place down by knocking itover.

Silence takes over the cabin and once again I can’t sleep. “Would you like a bedtime story?” I ask her about an hour into the darkness. I don’t wait for an answer, nor do I know if she is awake, but I find myself wanting to talk. “There was this kid once who had an evil step father,” I start, the creaking of the bed letting me know she is still awake as she moves. “He didn’t have any evil step sisters though, only a boss who didn’t care what the evil step father did to him. Every night the stepfather came into the boy’s room. And every night the boy got more and more confused.” I can hear her breathing pick up as I continue with the story, my own breath getting harder to grasp. “It wasn’t until the boy got bigger that the boss found out the boy’s true potential. The boy was given a new job. Instead of cleaning he was promoted to doing book work. The boy was good with numbers. But still each night the stepfather would visit the boy. The boy started to almost enjoy it when the step father would come at night, he anticipated it even. Then he met a girl. That girl sparked something inside him. Made him realize what the stepfather was doing wasn’t right.” Clearing my throat, I pause for a moment, lost in the story. “The boy decided that he would fight back, and to his surprise, he won. He thought the boss would be mad, but he wasn’t. He actually rewarded the boy with moreprivileges.”

“What happened to the girl?” Her words break into my telling of the story, bringing me to the here and now. I didn’t even realize I had still been telling the story until she spoke. My eyes find hers glistening in the dark, the slight glint in the moonlight facingme.

“Shedied.”

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