Aunt Carmen
She awoke to unfamiliar surroundings. The room was dark, cold, and clammy. It took only seconds before she realized someone had chained her right ankle to a cot. Panic set in.
“Hello,” she called out. There was no answer.
“Hello, can anyone hear me?” She yelled. Still, there was no answer.
Shaking, partly from the cold, but mostly from fear, she was losing it. The chain limited her mobility to about six feet. She tried moving the cot, but found it to be bolted to the floor.
“Hello, please, somebody help me,” she yelled.
In a panic, she sat on the edge of the cot and sobbed quietly as she tried to remember how she got there. She didn’t know what was going on, or how long she’d been there. At that moment, all she wanted was to go home. Unfortunately, that did not seem to be an option.
It was a dungeon of sorts. The walls, made of stone, the floor was of a Tokul soil series, leading one to believe they were in the Pacific Northwest region of the United States. The air, damp and musty. There were six rooms altogether aligned along the north and south-facing walls. The bars for doors showed the location was or had been used to hold inhabitants against their will. Her name was Zoey Thompson, and she was there against her will. Her nightmare was just beginning.
⁂
Brody Jensen was a typical jock. He was on the college football team, quarterback, or course, and very charismatic. Brody could charm the panties off most women within minutes. At 6 foot, five inches tall and weighing in at 270 pounds, he was a hunk of blonde chiseled muscle. Brody Jensen was a specimen that few ladies could or even wanted to resist.
To his credit, Brody was not stuck up on himself. He was as down to earth as his physics classmate, Billy Thornton. That attitude clashed with his teammates because of their inherited assholism, but he didn’t care. None of them would dare challenge him, so he did his magic on the field and won games, and went home afterwards to chill with his Aunt Carmen and Uncle Remy, who raised him.
“Well, hello there. I’m Carmen, Brody’s aunt,” she said as she walked in to see a girl she had never seen before. She extended a hand of welcome.
“Hi, I’m Christmas,” she said. “Christmas Alanis. Brody and I share classes.”
They shook hands. Carmen had just come from the market and was carrying a bag of groceries. Christmas offered to help her unpack her car. Carmen wouldn’t hear of it and asked her to sit and relax. Brody came in as Carmen headed back to her car to pick up another load and he instinctively followed to help.
“I see you met Christmas,” he said.
“Yes, she seems nice. Is it serious?”
“No, we’re not together,” he smiled. “We’re just classmates and good friends.”
He couldn’t help but notice the subtle display of relief on his aunt’s face. He thought it strange and hoped it had nothing to do with the fact that Christmas was black. It didn’t, but she didn’t believe there was nothing between them, and that was what prompted the reaction. She would have to monitor the situation. Girls, most with ill-intent, flocked to Brody like money-grubbing floozies, knowing full well he’d land a pro football gig after college.
After they brought in the last bags, Christmas told Brody she had to go because her mom was expecting her. Brody gave her a soft peck on the forehead and told her to drive safely. Carmen noted the peck as she smiled and told Christmas it had been nice meeting her. And then her smile faded as she followed her with an ice-cold glaring stare, watching as Christmas walked to her car, got in, and drove away.
⁂
In the dark of night, she lies in bed looking towards a ceiling she can barely see. Feelings overpower her, feelings of fear and those of despair. She closes her eyes so she cannot see, but the girl in the dungeon still cries to be free. She knows what she must do, and dutifully she will, again, and again, and again. Carmen cries herself to sleep tonight, as she does whenever the feelings return.
⁂
She heard someone unlock the gate that led to the rooms in that bad place and called out.
“Hello, who’s there? Please, please help me,” she cried. “I want to go home. Please help me.”
Her pleas had no effect on the man in the corridor. He was not a friend, not her liberator. He slid a plate of food under the door to her cell and told her to eat it all or suffer the consequences. She began crying loudly, as sheer terror had set in and visions of what could happen to her were in full focus. She lay down on her cot in the fetal position and prayed.
The next morning, the same man unlocked the gate. This time, she noticed he wore a mask. He was dragging another girl into a cell next to hers. He had gagged her and, as did hers, her terrified pleas for help went unanswered. After a bit of a scuffle, he shoved her into the cell and locked the door. After realizing her attempts at escape were useless, she sobbed softly throughout the night.
The next morning, Zoey tried to strike up a conversion to let the new girl know she was not alone, but she was still distraught and had not yet processed the reality of her situation. It would take time for her to get through the crying phase.
⁂
At dinner that evening, Aunt Carmen asked Brody about Christmas, saying she hadn’t seen her in a while. Brody mentioned she had not been in classes and that he hadn’t seen her either. He also said he hadn’t seen his other friend, Zoey. He seemed concerned. Carmen looked off into the distance.
After dinner, Brody sat on the front porch to read a book. He noticed his uncle head off into the woods carrying a bucket and a bag. It seemed strange, and he was going to call out to him to see if he wanted company. He decided instead to secretly to follow him. Approximately 300 yards in, his uncle went into an old shack. It had been in the family for years. They stopped caring for it long ago and Brody figured it was just a shell of a structure currently. He never thought of it as still functional. His uncle stayed for about 15 minutes and came out still carrying the bucket, but it appeared to be much lighter.
Brody waited for him to get back to the house, and then he went to the shack. His uncle padlocked the front door, so he went around to the side and peered into a window. He saw nothing out of the ordinary and left it at that.
At dinner the following night, he asked his uncle about the shack and Carmen responded for him in a very terse tone.
“Brody, that shack is none of your concern,” she butted in. “You’d do well to stay away from it. It is not safe.”
Her attitude set off major flags for Brody and his curiosity level was at a peak. That night in bed, Brody thought about Christmas and how Carmen asked about her specifically. He came home with other girls and she had never seemed interested. As he pondered that, he also realized that he had seen none of the girls he came home with for a while. Visions of the shack suddenly dominated his thoughts.
Brody lay there restless and knew he’d never fall asleep, so he got dressed, grabbed a flashlight and some tools from the barn, and headed out towards the shack. He was determined to see what was inside. He tried to be quiet, but the front door to the house was squeaky and Carmen heard it open and shut. She knew Brody was still curious and assumed he was going out to the shack. She lay there and smiled a devilish little smile as she put a finger to her lips in thought.
Brody took the tools he’d need to pick the lock on the door. Once inside, he looked around but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He was both relieved and disappointed. He shined his light all around, but all he saw was the one room. It had a fireplace, a rocking chair, and a table. There was a book on the table. He was relieved, figured the shack was his uncle’s man cave, and left.
When Brody went back to bed, he couldn’t stop thinking about the shack. He couldn’t reconcile the man cave narrative. He had an overwhelming feeling that something horrible was in play. And he was determined to find out what it was. He would watch his uncle and follow him again when he went back to the shack.
Bright and early the next morning, Brody again saw his uncle heading into the woods carrying a bucket and a sack. He followed and watched as his uncle fiddled with the lock on the front door. He followed his uncle inside and it shocked him to see a trapdoor under a big rug. Brody never thought to look there. He cautiously made his way down into the dungeon. His heart began racing as he could only imagine the horrors that await.
He eased around a corner to see his uncle open a large iron gate that led to a hallway with six separate cells. He watched in horror as his uncle approached each one with the bucket and ladle out what looked like soup to awaiting hands with cups held outside the individual cell doors. They were human female hands, and he heard the sounds of whimpering and cries for help. Brody snapped and clubbed his uncle over the head and then kicked him in the face as he rolled over. His uncle fell unconscious. All the women began begging and crying for Brody to let them out.
As he looked for a key to unlock the cell doors, he noticed Christmas sitting on the floor in a corner of her cell. She was shivering uncontrollably, overcome with fear. Brody called to her, and she ran to the cell door, begging him to let her out. They all did, and it was at that point he noticed they were all acquaintances he had brought home after school. Just then, he heard Carmen.
“Brody, honey, what are you doing? What is it you think you see here?”
She was extremely calm. There was a look in her eyes, a faraway look that led Brody to think she was in some sort of trance. She started slowly walking towards him, never taking her eyes off his. She was obviously too far gone to reason with, so he started looking around for another weapon. Carmen continued coming towards him when his uncle began coming to. He noticed Carmen had a key on a leather rope around her neck. He assumed it was for the cell doors. She also had a butcher knife and as she passed her husband, she kneeled down beside him and plunged the knife into his chest, on repeat, until he breathed his last breath.
“Brody, honey, this is not what it seems. You shouldn’t be here, baby. These tramps are not worth your time. C’mon, come to me and let’s go.”
The crazed look in her eyes had become more intense, as she continued slowly walking towards him. She had the knife at the ready. The girls were all screaming at Brody to kill her. Suddenly, she brought the knife up over her head and charged him as she let out a loud rebel yell. He side stepped her and as she went past, he used her momentum to slam her headfirst into one the iron cell doors. She fell backwards, unconscious. He then took the key from around her neck, unlocked one of the cell doors, and let the girl out. He then dragged his aunt into the cell, stepped out, and locked the door.
He freed the rest of the girls and showed them the way out, telling them to call the police. He stayed behind with Carmen. When she came to, he was sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of her cell.
“Why, Aunt Carmen? Why did you do this?”
She smiled a contorted, forced smile. She had a distant look in her eyes as she looked past him. It was only at that moment he realized how sick she was.
“Brody, honey, I did this for you. I promised your mother on her deathbed I’d take care of you and keep you safe. These charlatans were not for you, honey. Can’t you see? I did it all for you.”
He could hear search teams in the distance, hounds barking and soon footsteps coming down the hallway. He told his aunt that he was sorry and that she would now get the help she needed.
His Aunt Carmen sat still in the cell and looked directly at him as a single tear escaped. It was as if she was finally free of whatever evil had controlled her for so long. She offered no resistance as the rescue team led her out of the dungeon. Brody never saw any of the girls again. He visited his aunt in prison every week until she passed away from natural causes two years later.
K.R. Eaton - Aunt Carmen
Short Stories by K.R Eaton
