Chapter 248: Cecile XXII

 

Chapter 248: Cecile XXII—You Spoke of My Eyes

 

 

 

 

            She shook her head. Jana! Oh that girl was impossible. Grumbling to herself, Cecile trudged back up the stairs and down the long hallway to Jana’s bedroom. She could hear the little girl’s voice. She tossed the phone onto Jana’s bed and Cecile went to the bathroom.
            The man, Bill, was leaning over the tub; he was fairly heavyset, in dark blue clothes. Jana was leaning against the sink with Gigi in her arms. The puppy was panting and otherwise calm in Jana’s arms, not even barking.

            “Jana don’t be bothering him,” Cecile said. “He needs to concentrate.”

            Jana shrugged.

            “It’s alright,” the plumber said without turning around. “I’ve worked these drains over plenty times before; the little girl likes to talk.”

            “Yeah so why are they never fixed?” Jana snipped.

            “Jana!” Cecile gasped. “Be polite.”

            Jana frowned. “I’m sorry,” she replied.

            The plumber turned around and Cecile felt her eyes widen in horror when she saw his face. She knew his face, she had seen it before, and she didn’t want to believe it.

            “That’s okay,” he said to Jana, “People talked to me worse before.”

            “I’m still sorry,” Jana said. “Really, Bill.”

            Bill smiled, “Surely.” And then he turned around to the bathtub, his tools were lying next to him on the floor; he seemed to be sliding a line into the drain.

            She had seen him before, his face bloated and drowned with water in a dream, and then she had seen him in real life the next day, approaching the children on the sidewalk on Halloween. The red flags in her mind sprung to life, she felt her hands begin trembling.

            “Jana,” she said, trying to keep her composure, “Come on, let’s take Gigi outside for a potty, hm?”

            Jana shook her head. “Nope, Mommy let her out already. She’s okay.”

            Cecile closed her eyes briefly. “Jana,” she said, her voice trembling. “Let’s go downstairs and… and bake some cookies.”

            Jana narrowed her eyes. “Only Mommy makes good cookies.”

            Cecile swallowed. “Well I don’t like you bothering the nice man,” she said slowly. “So do as I say and come downstairs with me.”

            Jana lifted an eyebrow, the little brat lifted a blond eyebrow, had the audacity to look incredulous. “Why?” she asked. “I wanna see what’s wrong with the tub.”

            “You have to listen to me now,” Cecile said and she held her hand out, “Come on.”

            Jana scowled but before she could say anything Bill stopped what he was doing and he turned around, his eyes glittering dark. “She has to do what you say?” he said. “You’re not her sister, you’re a babysitter aren’t you?”

            “A nanny!” Jana snipped. “There’s a difference!”

            He smiled. “They left you two here? They finally left?”

            “No, of course not,” Cecile said in as cold a voice as she could muster and she tilted her chin up.

            “Cecile?” Jana asked and Cecile saw the little girl’s eyes finally understanding something. Jana began to walk slowly towards her. Cecile reached over and grabbed her, pressed to her body.

            The man stood up. He had a smile on his face, but Cecile recognized the eyes, dark eyes, heartless eyes. He was staring at Jana. “What’s wrong?” he said. “You’re too pretty a little girl to look so scared. I thought you were fearless.” His voice ended in a sneer.

            “Jana,” Cecile said. “Run.”

            This time the girl did not protest and still clutching the puppy she turned and ran. The man lurched forward and Cecile screamed, “NO!” She grabbed onto his arm, it was hard, burning hot, and she planted her feet into the ground to slow him. “You will not touch her!”

            He was heavy, however and Cecile was dragged forward before she lost her balance and fell. She tried to hang onto him, and lost her grip. She heard Jana squeal and the man was blocking off the doorway. As Cecile was standing up, she kept her eyes on Jana as the little girl ran with the barking puppy and closed herself off into her closet. “Leave her alone!” Cecile screamed. She ran at Bill not knowing exactly what she was going to do. “Stop it!”

            Bill stopped and he stood there, looking at her expectantly. Cecile swallowed, and she stopped, she looked at him, she could feel herself trembling.

            “What are you gonna do?” he said quietly.

            “Don’t,” Cecile whispered, she could feel her pulse exploding in her throat.

            A brief second passed, Cecile shook her head, she felt her muscles limp with helplessness and he sneered at her as he turned and began to walk towards the closet where Jana was hiding. She blinked, felt her eyelids heavy. The man was arrogant enough to assume that she would just stand there and not run for the phone as he did what he pleased with the girl. Cecile swallowed and watched him, perhaps he was right.

            “Come on little girl,” he said. He was leaning against the closet. “Don’t be afraid, we’ve had this date coming for a long time.”

            Cecile wrinkled her nose and she remembered that Jana had a way out of that closet. She turned and her eyes widened when she saw Jana tiptoeing past the doorway, the puppy a ball of silver fluff in her arms. Cecile blinked rapidly and looked back at the man, terrified that he may have seen the same thing. He was opening the closet. “Come on girl!” he barked from within. “Where the fuck are you!”

            She heard a loud crashing from within the closet; he was tearing at things, kicking them around. Cecile grabbed the phone off the bed and she turned into the hallway where Jana was standing, blinking. “Call the police!” Cecile hissed, as she handed the phone to Jana. “Go!”

            “But you?” Jana asked, the girl was not even crying. Her cheeks were red, her mouth was crumpled but she was not trembling, there were no tears. “Come on!” Jana said.

            “I’ll keep him busy,” Cecile said, “Go! Get out of the house!”

            Jana scowled.

            “Where is she!”

            Cecile whirled around, he was walking towards her, and his shoulders slumped. There was no sign that he had seen Jana but he would if she was still standing in the hallway. “In the closet, I suppose,” Cecile said in as firm a voice as she could muster, she was about ready to faint. She took a deep breath, she exhaled. She would be of no help to Jana if she fainted. She pressed her hand over her crucifix, squeezed it. “Please, leave now, before, there’s irreparable damage done. For God’s sake!”

            “Call the child,” he said, “Now.”

            Cecile took a step back away from him, towards the bathroom. She would be trapping herself but if he followed her it would take him away from Jana. She kept running her tongue over her lips, nervous. He widened his eyes, they were black, they were shining, and he took a step towards her. “Call the child!” he repeated.

            Cecile took two steps back. He followed. It was working. “No,” she said. “I will not let you hurt her while I’m alive.” How could the police have not interviewed the houseworkers? Cecile thought feeling irritated, and feeling the urge to laugh at her own haughty indignation, even at a time like this. Were they really that incompetent to miss a suspect as obvious as this?

            He curled his lips into a pucker, twisting his face grotesquely. “Then you won’t be alive.” He said and he barreled forward.

            “NO!” Cecile screamed and she stumbled back into the bathroom, lost her footing and fell to her bottom. “She’s already called the police, they’ll be here! You haven’t time!”

            He leaned over her and Cecile cringed, his heat looming over her. “I don’t need that much time.” He whispered. “Come on, sweetie.”

            “Get off!” Cecile hollered and she felt his hand tangle in her hair and it felt as if her scalp were being ripped off her skull as he yanked her to her feet and pulled her towards the bathtub. “Stop it!” She felt her skin burning with anger.

            His arm wrapped around her waist and he lifted her, she could feel his lips at her ear, “You gonna call the kid?” he hissed.

            “NO!” Cecile snarled. “Let go of me now!”

            He slid her back to the ground, Cecile tried to kick at him and he squeezed the back of her neck with his hand and Cecile saw the water sparkling in the bathtub, over a foot of it, and she sucked in her breath and closed her eyes and she felt her body relax as he swung her down, and dunked her face into the water. She kept her eyes closed, hung onto the last breath of air in her body and she could hear the water, lukewarm and swishing through her ears, she could feel his fingers, bruising and harsh on her skin.

            It won’t end here. She thought. I am going to live, of course I will.

            And then her breath ran out.

            Cecile squeezed her eyelids tightly shut, she felt her mouth twist as she fought the urge to breathe in and she flailed her arms, her fingers found his arms; she pressed her hands into them. Her breast was collapsing, she could feel her lungs contorting and burning for breath. She blew out, bubbles flying, and she dug her nails into his skin, she felt his flesh give and she frantically ran her nails up and down. Had to breathe… Cecile opened her eyes in panic, she felt as if her head would explode but if she breathed in now, it would only be water. She noticed clouds of red droplets exploding in the water around her face, unmistakably it was his blood and she dug her nails in further.

            Release, his hands left her body and Cecile pressed her hands into the side of the bathtub and she pushed herself back. She gasped in precious air as she fell onto the ground and she, gasped out as she scrambled to a sitting position, blinking water from her eyes, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. She felt herself horrified when she saw the gouges lining and slashed across the man’s arms, the blood dripping from them. He was cradling one of them across his chest; he was looking down at it and cursing. Cecile swallowed; she could see one of the scratches as deep as the fat layer under his skin. She had never thought herself capable of damage to a human being like that.

            He was still cursing and looking at his arm, a flap of skin dangling. Cecile took a deep breath and staggered to her feet and she tried to dash out of the bathroom, it was her only chance.

            “You bitch!” he snarled and she felt his hand close on her ankle.

            “NO!” Cecile screamed and she fell forward, she couldn’t get a good balance with her hands because she was soaked with water and he dragged her back into the bathroom. His hands pressed into her shoulders and he turned her over, his hand pinching her face, his nose touching her.

            “I am going to kill you,” he whispered.

            Cecile did not feel the fear she thought she would when he said it, she did not try to move when he left her body, and she heard him rummaging in his tool box. Her body was tired, her muscles were hurting and she realized that it would end here, she would die here. There was only one thing she could do, besides trust that Jana had left the house and called the police. She closed her eyes and slid her hands over her belly, up her torso until she found her crucifix and she squeezed.

            “Dear God please accept my soul,” she said, “Please forgive my deceit, my pride and my weaknesses. Please accept my apologies.”

            “What the fuck are you doing?” the man exclaimed.

            “And please forgive, William,” she said louder, “Please forgive him for what he will do he does not know what he is, he does not know why he is, please forgive his weaknesses and the evil that is controlling him. Please forgive him when he is unsure in the dark and unable to control his impulses as you would forgive a dog that does not know its way.”

            She felt his hand on her face, over her mouth but she didn’t open her eyes. “Are you praying for me?!” he exclaimed and she could hear a different tone in his voice, and it was not aggressive. “You’re forgiving me?”

            Cecile opened her eyes and she saw his ruddy complexion pale, his eyes widened. “What’s wrong with your eyes?” he gasped. He crawled back, allowing her to sit up.

            “You spoke of my eyes before,” Cecile whispered, feeling extremely calm, almost as if her heartbeat was slowing to a crawl. She felt her faith and the strength within it. She remembered how frightened she had been the first time he had attacked her in the kitchen. “You said you know my eyes, where from?”

            He shook his head. “I’ve never seen you before in my life,” he said in a voice that sounded now like it was trembling and frightened, “What’s wrong with your eyes?”

            Never seen me before? Cecile felt the importance and menace in it.

            “Nothing is wrong with them,” she said.

            “You pray for me?” he said. “You would forgive me? Why?”

            “Because it is how it should be,” Cecile said. She couldn’t understand his sudden submission but she was not going to waste it. “We must be forgiving.”

            “I was going to kill you!” he said. “I was going to smash your face in.”

            “But you don’t have to!” Cecile replied. She leaned forward on her hands, and she felt cold and soaked and ridiculous. She couldn’t understand what was happening and why he looked so frightened. “You needn’t.”

            The man’s face crumpled, and he began to blubber. “B-but I’ve been so baaad!” he moaned. “And I’ve done so much… can you… can you cleanse me?”

            “What?” Cecile whispered incredulously. Was she dreaming? None of this was making any sort of sense. “Cleanse?”

            “I can see it!” he exclaimed and he leaned forward, his hand reaching out and touching her cheek. “You have the power to redeem me! Please, please, cleanse me, I can’t help what I do, and I don’t know why I do it. Please, I need to confess!”

            “Confess?” Cecile exclaimed feeling as if a sick joke was being played.

            “I stalk these houses,” he moaned. And he grabbed her upper arms tightly in his hands. “I’ve been doing it for years and I don’t know why! Please you have to heal me!”

            “Heal?” Cecile repeated, feeling increasingly stupid and helpless. “I’m not a priest,” she said, “And only God can do that Himself.”

            “NO!” he bellowed and Cecile widened her eyes instead of blinking. He grabbed her crucifix and kissed it and as Cecile crawled back from him he grabbed her, pressed his face into her lap and he let her go. His hands went to her face again, and he whispered. “Your face, your eyes… you can cleanse me I can see it! You can change me! Are you an angel? Are you a saint?”

            “No I am not,” Cecile said slowly. “No.”

            “No?” he said. “You’re lying!”

            Cecile felt her face twist, “What is wrong with you?”

            “God didn’t send you here?” he asked.

            “No!” Cecile exclaimed.

            “Then your eyes… your face…” he said. “If you’re not from God then what are you?”

            Cecile shook her head. “I’m just a woman,” she replied.

            “NO!” he yelled and Cecile could see the red, the violence return to his demeanor. “You’re not!”

            Cecile tried to get to her feet but he brought his foot back and he kicked her in the chest. The pain was incredible and it twisted her brain as she gasped in horror and curled into a fetal position with her eyes tightly shut. She couldn’t breathe momentarily and she coughed.

            “You’re a witch aren’t you?” He yelled. “You were trying to dig into my brain!”

            Cecile opened her eyes, her breathing was shallow and it was nauseating her. “You’re mad,” she whispered. “Insane.” The jar, it was still there next to the toilet, only inches from her face. She could see the outlines of the spider inside. She reached for it and closed her fingers around the cool, thin glass.

            “I am gonna do the world a favor when I smash in your brains!” He said.

            Cecile did not waste a moment as she lifted the glass and smashed it into the side of the pink toilet. Igor the spider was on its back and kicking wildly with obscenely long legs. Her normal phobia did not even twist within her and she scooped the spider into her hand, she could feel its furry body on her palm, its strong legs wriggling. She flipped on her back, clutching Igor and the man was glaring down at her.

            “What are you doing?” he asked in an irritated voice.

            Cecile cried out at as she launched the spider at him and was amazed that it hit him square in the face, it was so large it completely covered his nose and part of his cheek and the man went cross eyed staring at it, there was a brief pause before he inhaled and screamed in terror. He swatted his hand over it and the spider slipped to his chest and clung to his throat. The man screamed again, this time in a louder decibel and he staggered backwards, his calves hitting the edge of the bathtub and he fell back into it. The water splashed and his legs did not kick as they hung out of it.

            Cecile blinked and she breathed out as she rolled over to her belly and lifted herself off the ground. Running her tongue over her lips she peered into the bathtub. His eyes were open, but he was not moving and his face seemed bloated, his tongue hanging out. Had he hit his head?

            Cecile was about to turn and run out of the bathroom, when she noticed the spider floating on the water’s surface. So the little beast turned out to be useful after all and it was kicking for its life, doomed to a watery death for its efforts. Cecile felt her cheeks redden when she noticed that the spider seemed to be swimming, its legs kicking in rhythm and it was crossing over the water until it reached the edge of the bathtub.

            “What in the...” Cecile muttered as Igor’s little feet clung to the porcelain side and with no effort at all it crawled up the tub and to its freedom. What kind of spider was this?

            The girl was so enrapt with watching the spider that she was not able to react in time when the man jumped out of the water. He screamed loudly and his body slammed into her. Cecile cried out and felt the blow of the tile floor crack into her back as they fell to the ground. He was incredibly heavy and she knew that she had blown her chance at freedom and there would be no redemption this time.

            “You little whore!” He hissed. “You’re a filthy woman, you deceptive whore!”

            “Oh God save me!” Cecile gasped.

            “You don’t belong to God,” he said and he reached over, Cecile felt her eyes fill with tears when she saw him produce a long jagged shard of the broken jar. She reached up with her free hand and she pressed it against his throat, not in an aggressive way, she was pleading with her touch, pleading for gentleness. “You belong with me, in Hell,” he continued, “but first I am going….”

            The man coughed, almost as if he had something caught in his throat. His eyes widened and Cecile dropped her hand from him when she saw the sudden red puffiness overtaking his throat and face. He was swelling. He wheezed.

            “You’re doing this,” he choked. “I’m going to cut out your eyes!”

            “Please!” Cecile screamed but it was to no avail as the man coughed and dangled his tongue from his mouth. He was gripping the glass shard so tightly that a line of blood was beginning to drip down it. He pressed the point of it in the fleshy part of skin below her eye and Cecile felt the fiery cut of it as it began to slice her open.

            BANG!

            Cecile felt it stab deeper and then simply fall away, she saw it and it hardly processed within her for a moment. She saw the hate and anger melt away from the man, Bill’s eyes, and they slowly blinked, and that’s when a large dribble of blood trickled between those eyes and down his nose. Cecile saw the perfectly round circle on his forehead, at that point she knew that it was a gunshot wound and he rolled off her, hitting the floor with a thud.

            “Oh!” Cecile gasped. “Oh!” She scrambled to a sitting position, moving away from the dead man as fast as she could. She stared at him, noticing with some interest that there was a large, blackened welt on his throat that had to be a spider bite.

            “Ma’am how badly are you hurt?”

            Cecile frowned, stared at the dead man’s face, bereft of soul, and life.

            “Ma’am, are you hurt? You’re covered in blood.”

            Cecile stared down at herself, at a blouse that was once white and she saw that it was covered in blood, the blood from the shredded flesh of his arms. It was not her blood at all. Cecile could not find the voice to speak. She looked at the bathroom door; saw the policemen standing there, one of them had a dark face and dark eyes, a young face. Horror seemed to be etched on him however and he muttered. “What’s wrong with your eyes?”

            Cecile felt her face crumple and she pressed her hands into it and felt the sting of the cut there. “Nothing!” she moaned. “Nothing!”

            “Of course not, sweetheart,” the other policeman said, it was a different voice. She heard his heavy footsteps as he entered the bathroom and she felt his strong arm over her shoulders and he was nudging her to her feet. “Let’s have a look at that cut, your face is cut, did you know that hon?”

            She looked at this man’s face, he was older, and he had kind eyes and a dark mustache. “Is there something wrong with my eyes?” she asked.

            “Of course not!” The policeman said as he led her out of the bathroom. “You have pretty eyes.”

            “That man was trying to cut them out,” Cecile said. She wanted to cry but she couldn’t find the strength, so she sighed. “Where’s Jana?”

            “The little girl is just fine,” the young, dark policeman said, “She, she called us in. She’s just fine. Her parents are on their way, we have her downstairs.”

            “Good,” Cecile sighed. “That’s all that matters.” She closed her eyes. “I’m so tired.”