Call of The Zodiac: Preview

She didn't know how long she had been held captive inside this dingy prison. It felt so familiar to her now; the cold, gray stones, the single oil lantern that dangled from a silver chain entrenched into the ceiling where it bathed its detainee in pale, yellow-gold light, and the cluster of vines that scaled the ramparts of her dungeon like green, leafy fingers. Aspen shivered in spite of the clammy temperature of her cell. How long did they intend on keeping her confined down here? She predicted that she wouldn't survive much longer. Her mouth felt arid and desiccated; as if it were stuffed with a fistful of cotton and her body felt heavy where it lay slumped against a dark corner of her cubicle, too drained and weary to carry out any such movements due to lack of food and water. Her eyes throbbed with a muted pain as they wandered aimlessly throughout the dimly lit space.

Where was everybody? Had they noticed her absence? Was her mother out right now, blurry-eyed and sniffling behind the wheel of her dark green BMW, looking for her under the heavy rain? She would imagine so. Were the others looking as well? Aspen closed her eyes. She could see the collection of black and white police cruisers weaving their way through the small town, the high-pitched whine of their sirens cutting through the silent night air. Sleepy-eyed pedestrians would be out and about on the sidewalks and streets, murmuring among themselves in hushed tones, huddled in small groups with their heads bent down against the cold and constant drizzle. Among the thickening cloud of onlookers, she spotted her father with a phone glued to his hear, howling his concerns at the top of his lungs to the person on the other end, his dark brown hair standing on end from the many times his hands had raked through it.

She saw a news van parked to one side of the road and a petite blonde in a red, form-fitting suit diving in and out of the massive crush of shivering bodies, a microphone in her gloved hands and her trusted cameraman hot on her heels with his equipment hoisted onto one shoulder. She hurriedly pushed her dripping hair out of her face and pointed a bony finger to her left as she spoke where a group of little children clung to their distraught mothers as they wept. The cameraman swung his shoulder and began to film. Aspen let out a small whimper of fright. Help me. She willed her mouth to open, to shout the desired words to those oblivious to her incarceration. But nothing moved. Her lips remained pressed together into a thin, white line on her pallid face. Her heart sank in defeat. If they didn't know where she was, then who would? How long would it take anyone to discover her whereabouts and free her? How long did she—

And then a familiar face materialized in the darkness that sat behind her eyelids. Aspen's breath suddenly hitched in her throat. The man in a heavy dark trench coat stepped forward and placed a large, thickset hand on one of her mother's quivering shoulders. His black hair was matted down to his face and neck like a helmet, sleek and shiny in the ashen light of the moon. No. She was dreaming. She had to be. Ms. Fischer looked up then, narrowing her puffy, red eyes through rainwater and tears before she through her lanky arms around the man's chunky neck. She buried her face into his chest and wept. The man turned then and pushed his inky hair from his eyes, revealing a long ragged scar etched onto the left side of his lopsided face. A long, bloodcurdling scream tore out of Aspen's throat as her stare was met with the deep black holes of Mr. Blackwell's eyes.

She sat up with a start then, her tiny chest rising and falling heavily as her body was rocked with a tidal wave of unmanageable shudders. Aspen quickly drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She sobbed quietly, the sound carrying through the extended emptiness beyond her cell in muffled echoes. Somebody please. As impossible as she believed it was, Aspen still hoped that her silent plea would reach the ears of her saviors. She shivered inwardly and flattened her back against the cool stones behind her. What should she do now? She had no means of escape or communication with anyone in the outside world. The only window in the room was barred as well as out of her reach and the door had been locked tight from the outside. She had heard the locks slide into place what seemed like an eternity ago. She sighed glumly and dropped her head on her knees. Please God, she silently pleaded as tears prickled the backs of her eyes. Please help me go home. The tears flowed freely down her dirt-streaked face. If only someone would come and get her—

Click. The sound seemed to ricochet off the walls and ring in Aspen's ears. She sat upright and listened. Was she hearing things? Surely this was a delusion brought on by her deteriorating state. A low grumble escaped her hollow stomach and reverberated through her cell.

"H-hello?" she whispered. "Anyone out there?"

Her voice sounded grainy and weak, as if someone had scrubbed at her throat with sandpaper. Maybe she hadn't heard anything. It was possible that she was slowly losing her mind. She couldn't remember the last time she had sat down at a table and had a proper meal or relished the thirst-quenching effect a cool glass of water had on a parched throat. Aspen sighed again and laid her head against her knees. If only she had stayed home instead of going on that stupid field trip. She could've been at home tucked away in bed in the safety of her home with her mother down below in the kitchen humming busily as she took care of the remains of their dinner. Not here sobbing and dying in the dark by herself without knowing who had taken her or where she was.

Click. Swoosh.

Aspen hadn't had enough time to even breathe before the door was suddenly swung open. Her breath caught in her throat. Had her prayer come true? Had someone managed to find where she had been put away? Though with great effort, she managed to pull herself up onto her feet and stagger forward, using the wall for much needed support. Thank goodness, she thought. A slight smile tugged at the edges of her cracked, dry lips. She took a small step forward and reached out with one hand. Thump-thump. Her heart gave a sudden flip of joy behind the protection of her ribs. Finally. After so much time waiting, she was finally going to be set free. Aspen dragged her other foot forward. She could see him now, standing in the doorway of her cell, his lean figure silhouetted by the abrupt burst of light behind him. Thump-thump. Only a few more steps and she'd be liberated. Free as last to see her friends and family again.

"Did…did you come here…to take me home?" she asked, her voice dripping with hope and relief.

Yes I did. She waited keenly for this stranger to speak those three magical words. Aspen closed her eyes and let her heart swell with the overwhelming warmth of happiness that enveloped her chest. Her legs wobbled as she crept closer to the door. She was finally going home. She would finally be able to see her mom and dad again. Makka must be so worried about her. Were the police still searching for her? Had they called off the search and decided that she was dead and gone somewhere? She would make sure this stranger got a reward for this…

"Sorry, red," a familiar voice replied. "But you're not seein' mommy and daddy anytime soon."

Aspen stopped short in her tracks. A flicker of dread ignited inside her chest. Oh no, she moaned inwardly. Please not him. Please not him! She stumbled backward on unsteady legs, sluggishly shaking her head back and forth in disbelief. It couldn't be. Damon? He was the one who had taken her during her fieldtrip and trapped her here? The door slammed shut as Damon stepped inside. His dark eyes scrutinized the cubicle his captive sat in and smiled in delight.

"Not too shabby," he remarked with a lopsided grin identical to his father's. "Nothing a little Lysol won't fix."

"Why?" Aspen whimpered softly. "Why did you put me here?"

Her eyes welled up with tears as her heart slowly sank to her ankles. "What exactly do you want with me?"

Damon sighed and raked a hand through his messy locks. "I knew I should've let Dianni come here first," he grumbled. He sighed and turned to stare at her. The poor girl looked horrible; muddy from head to toe with a noticeable cuts and bruises on her colorless skin. Her clothes were torn and stained with dirt and blood from their scuffle a few days ago when he was sent to go and retrieve her. But it was her eyes that made him look away without responding right away. It was the devastating sorrow that shone in those watery blue depths. She looked so weak and helpless the way she was curled up in the corner like that, laying on the floor like a stricken animal. His heart skipped a beat at the sudden rush of familiarity flowed through his being. She reminded him of someone. A little boy who lost…

"If I told you that princess," he replied sternly without glancing at her, "then that would ruin the surprise and I can't do that, now can I?"

"I wanna go home!" Aspen wailed in response. "Please Damon! Just please take me home! I just wanna go—"

"Shut your mouth!" he snarled. Aspen screeched then, a sound as piercing and high-pitched as a whistle, as she was viciously jerked up off the ground by the collar of her sweater. He slammed her into the wall and lowered his murderous glare to her. He could see it again; the mixture of overpowering sadness and unbearable fear that blended within the bubbling tears and diluted blue shade of his prisoner's widening eyes. Her lower lip shook as she whimpered and whined like a beaten puppy.

An unexpected surge of memories invaded his mind: a small-boned boy with shaggy black hair standing before a crooked tombstone in an abandoned cemetery with the arm of an old, tattered teddy bear in one hand. Damon groaned and stumbled back, dropping a petrified Aspen as he retreated into the halo of light in the middle of the room. He saw the same small boy kneeling on the ground with his hands balled into tiny fists at his sides. The girl, bearing the same long black hair as him, stood beside him with her arm around his trembling shoulders. They watched the massive, hulking figure of their father pace before them, rage and grief twisted into his features. Aspen watched in muted horror as Damon swayed back and forth like a tree in the wind with his rickety hands gripping his head tightly, as if it were threatening to burst apart. Her eyes momentarily drifted to the door. He moaned out loud and leaned forward, one hand clutching his stomach as if in pain. She swallowed and carefully pulled herself onto rubbery legs. Now was her chance. It was either now or never.

Another image invaded Damon's mind. The boy was now older, a grown man, clad in tight black leather and standing at the entrance of a shabby, rundown apartment complex with his sister and father on either side of him. He watched them disappear inside—a ripple of pain shot through his skull then, sharp and clear as a knife stab through the heart. Damon cried out and doubled over in agony, cursing and twisted onto his side to see what had struck him. But his vision blurred and for several moments he could see nothing through the red-hot throbbing that swelled all over his body.

More visions raided his mind; this time he found himself standing over the crumpled, bloody form of a woman. She had been elderly with thinning, wavy black hair and wrinkly russet skin that creased and rutted like cracked leather. She had been wearing a long purple dress, a white shawl, a red bandanna to conceal the bald spot atop of her head, and a collection of colorful, chunky jewelry around her neck, hands, and ears. She was perhaps in her late seventies when they had killed her. Her glassy dark eyes stared lifelessly at the peeling blue paint of the ceiling. Damon stared down at the expanding pool of scarlet beneath his boots and felt his stomach give a violent heave. He rolled over again as a torrent of bile spewed from his gaping mouth and sprayed over the front of his clothes and the floor before him.

"Dianni…Dianni!" he rasped. "H-help…help me now!"

Aspen clasped a hand over her mouth and scampered out the door without a word, leaving her kidnapper to willow in his own pain and vomit without her.