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Daylight came rushing into the old barn. Their tormentor stood in the middle of the room, with a self-righteous look on his face, emitting a crazed cackle. His eyes glowed with hatred. "Welcome to my own personal hell for all of you. This is still better than any of you deserve. Especially after everything you put me through.” He was actually gloating.
"I've been planning this for a long time now. My friend here has helped everything come along nicely, don’t you think?" They could hear the satisfaction in his voice. Now, they all had to wonder, or worry, if they somehow created this monster. They'd bullied plenty of kids, even grown adults, over the years and none had turned into a raving psychotic maniac. That was until now.
***
TAKING A LONG, HARD gulp of the whiskey, Stephen felt the burn settle deep into his gut. If only the alcohol could take away the pain and guilt consuming his body. Looking over at Adele's side of the bed, he swiped away a tear as the grief and loneliness once again overwhelmed him.
As he drowned his sorrows away, the phone rang. When he saw the time, he cringed. This was the call he had dreaded since her disappearance.
Anxiety filled him as he found the courage to answer the phone, "Hello."
In a maniacal voice The Traveler responded, "Do you miss her?"
The despair ignited into confusion, then an all-consuming anger when he realized it was the man who had abducted the love of his life, "Where is she, you son of a bitch?"
Shaking his head, "Now, is that the way you should treat the man who has your wife?"
Biting back a hateful comment, he asked, "What do want? Where is she? Is she okay?"
With a smirk, The Traveler motioned for David to move closer to Adele. "I thought perhaps you would like to hear your wife accept your punishment."
The Traveler held the phone out for Stephen to listen while his wife was repeatedly tortured.
"Did you hear what you have done? You did this to her."
With each anguished scream, it felt like a knife had pierced straight through Stephen’s heart. His voice quivered as he began to plead with the man, "Please, let her go, take me instead. I’m begging you to stop."
"No! You did this to her. I want her blood on your hands. When you close your eyes, you will hear her screams. You will never find peace, just like I never received any peace from you."
When she let out an animalistic scream of pain, out of pure instinct, he stood to defend her and then fell to his knees with tears pouring down his face. Through the haze, a sound caught his attention. Something about the sound triggered a memory.
Bolting to his feet, he immediately called the one man who could help him. "Sir, I know who has them."
"Come get whatever you need, just bring him back to me."
"Yes sir, and, sir, thank you."
"You better be right about this, son."
After Stephen hung up, he began making plans to get their loved ones back. For this to work, he would need help. At least Mr. Robinson had a gun collection that every man here was envious of.