Claimed Pt2

2.

Morning came in cloudless. With it being mid-August, it also came in hot and dry. Father Thorn banged on the door and gave Beth five minutes to freshen up. She brushed her teeth and then drank the rest of the water in the jug, trying to fully hydrate. She just wanted to stop feeling dry and weak.

Most of the morning was spent learning how to use Father Thorn’s system for cooking and cleaning. The stove had been converted to burn wood. There was a hand pump in the corner of the kitchen to get water from the well, and buckets were carried over to wash dishes. For their breakfast she fixed scrambled eggs, toast, and boiled water for tea.

“This is very good, Beth. You can cook. That’s a plus in your favor,” he said, regarding breakfast. 

“Thanks.”

“You know, I’ll have to pick some vegetables for our dinner. I also want to start canning for the winter. Would you like to help?”

“Yes.”

He looked pleased with her quietly spoken answers. He speared eggs with his fork and pointed it at her. “You’re not lazy. I’m glad. The last one didn’t want to lift a finger around here.”

“I’m not the first?”

Thorn laughed at that. He misread her reaction, mistaking horror for jealousy. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous. Not already! You’re the third. My first woman forced me to mutilate her. I keep her in the barn. I want you to meet her today and see firsthand what happens when you try to run. My second woman killed herself. She was weak anyway. All that bitch did was whine about some brat and useless man she’d lost in the attack at the funeral parlor. I can’t recount how many times I told her I’d give her children, but it never lifted her mood.”

He ate his eggs and spoke of the pain he’d caused and the lives he’d ruined the way most people would complain about having to sacrifice a sunny Saturday afternoon to organize the closets and trim the yard. Beth wanted to put her fork down but she kept eating. She had to build up her strength so she could make a run for it.

Once the kitchen was clean Thorn took her on a tour of the church. He showed her his bedroom, which had once been the dining room for church social functions. It was a very large room with lots of windows that he kept covered with black curtains. The walls had been painted blood red. In fact, most everything he’d scavenged from nearby homes to decorate were in black or dark red, sometimes dark blue or green. It was a depressing room and she was glad to leave it.

“The pastor’s study is now your room. Here’s the old Sunday school room. We’ll use that for our kids. We’ll have three. If you get pregnant after that I’ll abort them. No need to fear, darling Beth. I’ve extensively studied medical books on how to perform an abortion safely. As a matter of fact, I did two on Reggie. That would be Regina. You’ll meet her in a few minutes. Now, come see the sanctuary.”

He threw up his arms and said, “Ta-dah! What do you think?”

Beth swallowed. The walls were cream colored, the carpets maroon. The pews were wooden and the padded seats matched the carpet. What was disturbing was that all the crosses had been turned upside down. Behind the pulpit the image of the Last Supper had been slashed and moved to the floor. Above it was a caricature of Satan stomping Jesus underfoot. Pornographic images of women being raped and beaten, tied down and tortured, hung on posters on the walls and on the back of every pew. 

This man is insane, Beth thought. She realized, once again, just how dangerous he was.

What Beth wouldn’t give for Daryl to come rushing through that door to save her, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. She’d have to save herself, and that started here, now, by making this lunatic happy.

“Looks great,” she said, and fought back the urge to cry. “Looks like a professional came in and decorated.”

She gave him a trembling smile and he tilted his head to the side with a look of misty joy.

“Beth Greene. I’m falling in love with you. I can’t wait to make you my wife.”

***

Her plan to keep Father Thorn happy fell apart when they went to the barn. Beth’s feet seemed to weigh fifty pounds each, and they only got heavier as they approached the barn, where Father Thorn said he kept his first victim, Regina. She dreaded meeting the other woman’s eyes and seeing the pleading hope that Beth could save her from Father Thorn's nightmare.

The chickens in the yard scattered and clucked, making Beth long for the farm she’d grown up on. She longed for her father, and she wished more than anything she could see Maggie one more time before she left this world.

The hay that  had been scattered on the floor had long lost its sweet smell. It had absorbed the stink of shit, piss, and death. Inside, the barn proved to be as neatly kept as the church and the grounds. There was the old car Beth had been kidnapped in. To her right, farming equipment had been hung up neatly. Everything from sickles, hoes, and shovels, to hammers, sledge hammers, and then rakes, were lined up neatly and ready for use. A manual lawn mower sat neat and clean, its blades sharp, in the corner, waiting for use. 

To her left was a wall of saws, blades, chains, masks, leather clothes, sex toys, and a home-rigged sex swing. What drew the attention the most, however, was the long metal table along the back wall, opposite a ratty old pool table. On that table lay a woman with long blond hair. She was slight of build, like Beth, and her skin was so white as to look bloodless, though there was a distinctive blue tinge to it. Her ears had turned black and began to rot. 

“Wake up, Reggie! Say hello to my new fiancé, Beth Greene.”

Reggie turned her head sluggishly to face them. Upon smelling fresh meat she put up a weak fight to reach them. Her left foot had been cut off. That leg wasn’t chained, but her right foot was chained to the table. Her hands were secured above her head. She hissed and growled, and Beth screamed when Father Thorn gripped her by the back of her neck and shoved her at Reggie.

Reggie’s putrid body stank enough to make Beth want to lose her breakfast, but she’d gotten a strong stomach over the past couple of years and knew how to hold her food down in the face of terrible odors. What worried her was the proximity. Father Thorn was pushing her too close to the corpse, and it lunged forward, its slimy tongue slicking over the tip of Beth’s nose.

“Wooo!” Father Thorn shouted gleefully. “That was close!”

He backed her off a little as Reggie continued to struggle in an effort to reach Beth.

“Not gonna cry?”

He shoved Beth back. She glared at him and wiped at her nose.

“You’re made of stronger stuff than my first two women, Beth Greene.”

“I’ve been on the road a lot. I’ve lost a lot of good people in my life. I’ve seen things you can’t imagine. You think this scares me? This is nothing.”

Anger crossed Father Thorne’s face like a flash of lightning. Hate rumbled through his voice like a clap of thunder. “You saying my demonstration here isn’t good enough to put the fear of God into you? You’re some…what…super woman? Some road hardened warrior that’s seen more death, suffering, and horror than I have? You don’t know what I’ve been through! You don’t know what I’ve seen!”

“Same goes for you, Thorn.”

Don’t push it, Beth, she thought.

He backhanded her. She saw it coming this time and managed to roll with it, as Daryl had taught her, but she lost her balance and fell to the floor. Her already cut lip split open and she looked up at him with hot resentment, rather than the fear he wanted to see in her eyes.

“Get up!” he shouted.

Beth got to her feet while he paced and cried. 

“I had such a nice day planned and now you’ve gone and ruined it with your insults! You’re so mean!”

The tears surprised her. She hadn’t realized he was so immature, so underdeveloped emotionally. He looked to be in his mid to late twenties, but now he looked like an overgrown ten year old boy. A spoiled one at that. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he fell to the ground and started kicking and screaming. He wanted her to apologize. She decided she wouldn’t.

“You know what? You can go to your room. You can sit in there, in the heat, all closed up all day! I should put you in the box again but I’m nicer than you, aren’t I? Aren’t I!”

He was in her face, shouting. She nodded. “Yes.”

Seeming at least a little appeased, Father Thorn gripped her arm. “Don’t ever call me just Thorn again. I’m Father Thorn. Understood?”

“Yes.”

He still had that petulant sulk in his voice but he was calmer. He pulled the garage door shut before hauling her back into the church and shoving her into her room. He took her book and her candle, but he either decided to leave the fresh jug of water, or he forgot about it. She felt dark satisfaction that she’d managed to upset him so and send him into a tantrum. 

“No lunch for you. I may not let you have dinner, either.”

“I understand,” she said. She didn’t beg as he’d hoped, and that angered him even further. He slammed the door shut, leaving her in the room.

Beth approached the window when she was sure he was gone. She used the bucket that she’d emptied and washed that morning as a stool to lift her up high enough to look out into the back yard. The window bars were secure, but the window itself opened just fine. She sat on the bed once the window was open, prepared for a long, dull day in the heat. At least, she thought gratefully, there was a breeze that stirred the air every once in a while. 

Later that evening she received a stingy plate of leftover chicken and half a corn cob for dinner. She ate, glad for the food, meager as it was, while sitting on the bed, and felt a particularly cool breeze flutter in. Outside it had begun to cloud over. Beth hoped it didn’t rain. The humidity was bad enough without rain adding to it. For now, though, the cool wind was like heaven against her sweaty skin.

The door opened and he reached in for the plate. “No dessert for you, after the way you acted.”

“What did I do wrong, Father Thorn?”

He looked incredulous. “You mocked me, you ungrateful bitch!”

“You almost got me bitten by a walker. How is that any way to treat your fiancé? It’s disrespectful and mean.”

“You’re a woman. You don’t deserve respect.”

“Then why do you want to marry someone that doesn’t deserve respect.”

“There you go, mocking me again.”

“I’m not mocking you. I’m just asking--”

He yanked out a knife and Beth went still. He jabbed it in her direction.

“No more questions. No more! You think you’re such slick shit, just like all women do. You want men to kiss your asses and let you dominate us. Well I’m not going to do it! I won’t be used by you. I’ll sooner replace Reggie with your corpse. How’d you like that, Beth Greene?”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t.”

“Then start showing me some respect.”

She quickly nodded, hoping she hadn’t pushed too far. To her relief, he turned and stormed out.

***

The rain Beth didn’t want came in the middle of the night. It was fierce and cold. She covered up with her blanket but elected to leave the window open. She liked the feel of stirring air after she’d spent days locked up in still heat. 

Something woke her near dawn. A grunting sound. She felt a chilly breeze on her privates and her eyes snapped open in alarm. 

Father Thorn stood at the foot of her bed, his pants down, his cock in hand. He’d lifted her skirt to expose her, and now he stood masturbating. Terrified, Beth didn’t move to cover up. She only looked at the window and the black square of darkness outside it. 

Gasps turned to moans as Father Thorn beat off, his hand moving faster. She prayed that he wouldn’t take it upon himself to rape her out of revenge for hurting his feelings the day before. She knew he wanted an apology, but she just couldn’t bring herself to give him one. Besides, she doubted it would change anything now. Hell, it may even make it worse if he sensed any kind of weakness in her now.

“Oh, God…Oh, fuck!” 

He shouted the words as he climaxed. She was surprised by how far his semen shot from him. It landed on her dress, some of it on her thigh, which seemed to make him come harder. He bent over when it was done, panting, sweating, gazing up at her with eyes bright with madness. He grinned.

“Makeup sex is fun, isn’t it?” he said. He licked his lips, and she wanted to throw up. She felt soiled, dirty, violated, and she hated him for it.

“Piss me off again today, and I’ll slap you on Reggie’s table. I’ll let her bite you, and turn you, and I’ll rape you while you get sick and turn. Understand me?”

“I understand,” Beth said quietly. 

She waited until he was gone to clean as much of his semen off of her as she could. She dry heaved from disgust once, but managed to control her stomach. When she was as clean as she was going to get, Beth looked at her reflection in the polished mirror above the little basin she used as a sink. She knew she had to do something. She couldn’t leave him to do this to another girl. 

I’m not going to run away from him, Beth vowed. I’m going to kill him. 

Part 1

Part 3