Hear, See, Speak

Author's note:

I did not expect I was going to post my short stories on this site. They tend to be tragic, and Hear, see, speak is no exception.

It's strange, I want my short stories to be powerful enough to punch someone in the gut. They probably aren't, not yet, but I'm quite sure that there's a glimmer of profoundness in each one of them. At least that what I tell myself.

I want to make you think when you read this. Write your thoughts in the comments. Gift your insights and perhaps even personal experiences to me and anyone else who reads this.

Voting is something I leave up to you, but I will say that if you enjoyed it, then giving it a good score will make it likely for others to find something you found worth your time. It can be your little gift to a random stranger. And with that, the world becomes a slightly better place.

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Hear, see, speak

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Thomas sighed and leaned against the cold stone wall behind him. Did he imagine that sound? He was sure he hadn't, but then again, what did it matter? He couldn't check and see, not anymore. They were probably playing games on him again. How fun to tease the cripple in the cage. He'd tired of their games long ago.

He was drifting off to sleep when he heard the shuffling noise again, louder this time. "Who's there? Answer me, who's there? I can hear you."

No answer came, again. But there had to be someone there. "Who are you? I can hear you."

A hand bumped Thomas's leg, startling him. The noise had been closer than he had expected, but it moved away again and whoever had touched him backed off beyond his reach.

A question came from the dark. The first voice he'd heard in days, and it wasn't at all what he had been expecting. "Who are you?"

It was a woman. She sounded unsure, surprised even. He snorted at the ludicrous question, he had asked her the same thing and she had ignored him every time. And now she echoed back the very question he had been throwing out? "I'm -"

"Oh why do I even bother asking? I can't hear you anyways. I'm deaf now, I'll never hear a thing again."

Did it ever stop? He'd been alone for so long. And now, enter a companion down in this basement, and of course she'd be deaf. Deafened like he had been blinded.

He crawled toward the sound of her sobbing, and reached out his hand to place it ever so gently on hers. She jerked back, but he held on and squeezed before letting go. God, it felt good to touch something warm, something living.

His thoughts flew back to his wife as they so often did. He used to grab her hand and pull her on his lap in the couch, then he would slip his hand inside her shirt and... The sharp jab of desire that flared up inside of him fed the loneliness that wore him down to exhaustion every day. Don't think about that, there's someone here!

He reached out again, but she had crawled away from him. Damn, where was she? Was she real? He didn't know anymore. He pushed off the wall and got on his hands and knees. If nothing else, crawling around would keep him occupied for a while. He followed along the wall and bumped his head on her knee.

She was huddled up in a corner, her arms clenching her legs. She was scared, scared? What a joke. He couldn't even lift a sack of potatoes at this point. They fed him but he wasn't exactly being served gourmet cooking here.

She darted past him, surprising him. Somehow he managed to grab hold of her ankle before she could disappear again. He dragged himself up along her body, trying to keep her wildly kicking legs under control. His ribs ached by the time he reached her waist, definitely some more bruises tomorrow but whatever.

He had her now. She was real. What to do? He did the only thing he could think to do. When he got scared as a kid his mom would pull him against her soft bosom and stroke his hair until he calmed down.

He pulled her against his bony body, and stroked her dirty locks, whispering soothing words in her ears. She couldn't hear them, but it was all he had in his arsenal. She felt so good, so right in his arms. She felt like he was holding his wife in his arms, no... Please no.

He started shaking, incapable of holding back the thoughts of her body being hammered backwards by a bullet meant for him, the shock in her eyes. She didn't feel much, nor was she capable of understanding in the short time span she survived. Her last thoughts were probably 'Why is there a red stain on my shirt? Now I'll have to soak it when I get home, great.' She was like that.

His sobs had pulled Rosa from her panic. She stopped fighting him and untangled the hand lodged in her locks. "Are you ok?"

She got no response. Was he ok? What was she even asking? She should be worrying about herself. Her ears where throbbing, little worms inside of them set off explosive charges inside her brain to carve a tunnel through it.

Wave after wave of pain radiated down to her jaw and neck. Having her head snapped back when he pulled her hair hadn't exactly helped. She curled up into a tight little ball, shuddering with her eyes shut tight, fighting off the tears and failing. She felt Thomas move along with her, he curled his gangly body around hers, enveloping her.

Both of them cried themselves to sleep that night, strangely comforted by being with someone who they thought meant them no harm.

***

The meager morning light falling through the tiny cellar window revealed Thomas to Rosa. He was skin and bones, covered in tattered rags. Her own clothes weren't much better than his.

A ragged cut ran across the front of her dress. She had tried to tie it together somewhat, but her makeshift top didn't conceal the bruises on her ribs, nor her hips. She felt the dried blood and semen on her face and in her hair. It disgusted her.

She didn't want to think about what happened to her anymore so she watched Thomas as he slept. She'd panicked when she woke up in his embrace but she was okay now, he didn't seem threatening at all. He took a lot longer to wake up, when he finally did she asked him again who he was. "Who are you?"

Thomas stirred, but she heard nothing. Stupid of her to ask it like that. She picked up a stone and held it up for him to use. He didn't move to take the stone from her hand. He wasn't even looking at her hand. His eyes were gone, replaced with polished orbs of volcanic glass. Black and glimmering, even in the dim light. She dropped the rock and said, "What did they do to you? Oh god! Can you even hear me? Can you still hear me? Please tell me you can still hear me."

She was on the verge of hyperventilating when he nodded and mouthed the words 'I can hear you', her breath burst from her lungs and she slumped back against the wall. "Why?"

Pointing at his eyes he mouthed 'Too much', he pointed to his temple and mouthed the same words. Saw too much, knew too much. The simplicity of his explanation, along with the resignation she read in his bent posture told her he had given up on fighting. Rotting away in this dark cell, trapped in an even smaller cell of his own.

Was she going to become like him? No. Maybe.

She tried not to think about the night before. They'd dragged her into a van and tied her up before she could even cry for help. After that she could only remember struggling and pain as they raped her.

They spared her nothing. Every form of resistance was met with violence. She was going to take it and they cared less if they had to beat her to give it to her.

The worst part was the end, her whole body was in a state of dull agony. They grabbed her head and she let out a strangled sound, a call a wounded animal makes in its death struggle. She shrieked with her last energy when they pierced her eardrums and drove deeper still after that. She didn't even have a mind after that, all was lost to the horrible sensation of someone rooting around in her head.

Thomas's hand touching hers broke her away from her memories. She grabbed it and burst into tears, her body trembling. As before, he took her in his meager arms. He was the only kind, giving thing she had near her. She calmed down and leaned against the wall, tired and hurting. "I'm Rosa."

'Tho-mas'

"How long have you been down here Thomas?"

He stretched the fingers of his hand and then added one, removed it again, added two more. He shook his head and seemed confused. Eventually he held up five fingers, pointing up at the same time.

"More than five days?"

He shook his head.

"Weeks?"

He shook his head again and she felt cold fear in her gut. She could hardly get her next question out of her throat. "Months?"

He nodded.

"Do they bring food at all? You're skin and bones."

He pointed towards a small wooden box. 'Once per week.'

She went to the box and found vitamins, bags filled with water, a pile of carrots, containers of cooked rice and a piece of dried ham inside. "When did they come the last time?"

He held up one finger and pointed backwards.

"One day ago? This is for us both for a week?"

He nodded. She sat still and kneeling by the box for a long time. "Where are we Thomas?"

He didn't know. Of course he didn't. She got up and stood on the tips of her toes to watch out of the little window. "I can't see much, I'm too small. Can you boost me up? Careful, I'm really bruised."

A field. They could be anywhere in the country. "You can let me down now Thomas. We're probably on a remote farm or something like that. Why are we in here Thomas? Do you know?"

He repeated his earlier message of 'I saw too much, I knew too much'.

"Knew too much about what, Thomas? You're not making any sense."

He rubbed his face and eventually couldn't come up with anything better than spelling out letters.

M-I-S-L-A-V

B-R-A-T-V-A

"How do you know that name, Thomas? Why do you know about the Russian mob?"

He held one finger in front of his lips and pointed around himself, his pointed finger changed into a pistol, shooting at some parts of the imaginary circle of people around him.

"Thomas, what is your last name?"

'Van-der-vilt'

"Oh god. I know who you are."

He lifted his head, his face showing his confusion. 'How?'

"I'm a witness too Thomas... I overheard them planning something and when the cops came investigating I told them about it. Then they asked me if I would testify, I said yes. They were supposed to protect me..."

She backed away to the wall, staring at Thomas. "Why are you still alive Thomas? Why are you still alive? What do they want with us?"

Thomas closed his eyelids with his hands, locked his lips and put his fingers in his ears. He opened his eyes again, and with his blind stare turned towards the window, he walked two of his fingers towards the outside window. Finally he crossed his arms in an X-shape. 'Ex-am-ple. No wit-ness-es.'

A lead weight dropped on Rosa's chest, hurtling her back into bleak hopelessness. They would rape her again and again, until they bashed her into submission. Like Thomas. She'd seen pictures on the news, he'd been a handsome man. Young and fit.

Now he was gaunt. Bruises marred his body. None of his posture was left. A normal person could never withstand such torture and disfiguration. "We have to get out of here Thomas! We have to! You have to know a way, there has to be something! Get me out of here Thomas, please!"

He hung his head and shook it.

"Thomas! You've been here for months, you need to know something!" Her voice was getting shriller, but she never heard. She couldn't hear the desperation in her own voice, but she felt it rage inside of her. The fear of more pain, losing more of herself. She jumped on top of him. "Think, Thomas! Think!"

His expression turned from resigned to angry, he pushed her off of him. 'I tried. Felt. Door. Me-tal. Win-dow. Re-in-for-ced. Wall. Sto-ne. No way out.'

"And when they come back to... beat you?"

He held up three fingers and formed his free hand into a gun.

"There must be some kind of medic or doctor to take care of these wounds?"

He shook his head again and pointed at himself and at her. "We do that ourselves? You treated your eyes yourself?"

His jaw pulled at that reminder, and he reluctantly nodded.

"No, no, no, no, no."

Thomas gave up on trying to get her to snap out of it when she didn't respond to him at all. He'd sleep. There were no memories when he slept.

***

Thomas woke to a piercing shriek. Rosa! He got up and tried to feel for whoever was grabbing her. A kick to the stomach doubled him up and the butt of a gun turned the lights out for him.

***

When he woke again, he had a splitting headache and he could hardly breathe. The bastards must've kicked him while he was out. He stretched out his body to ease the pain.

Rosa's soft sobbing pulled him out of his pain induced stupor. He had to go to her, she needed someone after what they put her through. She was being hurt so much worse than him. Thomas got on his knees and the darkness spun around him, made him feel sick. A bout of coughing sent jolt after jolt of pain through his weakened body.

He crawled towards her and stroked her hair. Her bandages were loose. She needed new ones. That was something he could do. "I'll take care of you, Rosa. Don't you worry."

Saying the words out loud soothed him, so he kept on babbling. Her clothes were gone, she had nothing left to cover up. He draped his own rags on top of her, they weren't keeping him warm anyway and she would at least feel a bit covered. One more thing he could do. "It's fine, have them. I don't need them. I'm glad to give them to you. I have to take care of your wounds now, I'm sorry if it hurts, but you need to believe me when I say it's for the best. It'll help."

He slowly searched the cell floor for the medical supplies. It took too long, his coughing fits became longer and more violent. He felt delirious, not quite in this world.

Finally he found what he was looking for and floated back to Rosa. He had turned quiet. In atrance, he carefully removed her bandages, cleaned her wounds as best he could and bandaged them. His last thought before passing out was 'this isn't good'.

***

When she woke up, Rosa found herself sprawled out on the floor with Thomas collapsed next to her. He was holding some bandages in his hand. She touched her ear and felt the fresh ones there. Did he patch her up? He even gave her his shirt, leaving him even more exposed to the cold seeping from the stone.

She could see his unnatural position. His breathing was irregular and there was dried blood on his forehead. "Thomas? Can you hear me?"

She turned him over on his back when he didn't respond and gasped at the black and blue tapestry that his chest and stomach had become. They had beaten her, but not too heavily. They wanted her to stay pretty so they could get more enjoyment out of using her. She heaved and the sudden cramp doubled her up.

On her hands and knees, she calmed down, fighting the flow of tears that wet the floor. She ignored the pain pulsing in her head, ignored the burning in her body, and crawled to the food box to grab some water. She rinsed her mouth to get rid of the taste and the memories.

None of that mattered, she was needed. When Thomas was patched up as best as she could manage, she laid her hand on his cheek and looked down on his face. He had tried to protect her, weak as he was. "Thank you, Thomas. You really didn't have to take care of me, but I'm happy you did."

She dragged her exhausted body against him. The warmth of his body meant the world to her and she was glad to give her own warmth back. But she wanted to do more. Right before she fell asleep, her memory gave her what she wanted, and she even managed the tiniest smile. Maybe she would be able to thank him after all.

***

They came for her three more times before Thomas came to. She no longer fought them, they would finish with her quicker if she didn't put up a fight. If they threatened to beat her she would move a little, her body even climaxed once. But it was all far beyond her, she had dissociated from what they did to her. She hid away within the dull drone inside her head. Every heartbeat the swell of pain would rise and fall.

She focused on the one thing that mattered to her right now, she had good news to tell.

Every second spent inside the cell, she would cling onto Thomas, trying to keep him warm. She needed him to stay alive. She fed him water, fed him grains of rice. She couldn't lose him. When he finally woke up her tears were tears of happiness. "Thomas, Thomas. Can you hear me?"

He nodded his head and grimaced as he did so.

"Thank god you're up. Thomas, I remembered something. Your wife, she's still alive! She survived, Thomas! She recovered in the hospital."

Thomas felt numb, his mouth hung open. He was sure he looked stupid, but he didn't care. A smile formed on his lips. His first smile in months. He sat straight up, grabbed Rosa and kissed her full on the mouth.

Lena was alive! The most wonderful creature in the world was still alive! The bullet that was meant for him no longer killed his wife. There was something to return to! Tears streamed down his cheeks as his first smile in months turned into laughter.

For Rosa, the sudden transformation of the man crushing her lungs had a balming effect. She'd done it. In the darkest time of her life she felt like a genuinely good person. They'd degraded her, mutilated her, humiliated her, and still she'd done this one thing.

It did nothing for her, but it gave hope to the man that had suffered far more than she had. She laughed along with him, it sounded off, but it was a joyous sound at the same time.

***

From then on they both endured. Their jailors would come and rape Rosa. Sometimes she would need medical attention. They usually ignored Thomas, but when they did beat him it took a heavy toll on him.

Nothing the bastards could do kept them from pulling each other through day by day though.

They survived.

***

One day, about three months after Rosa's capture, they woke up outside. Finally they had been freed.

They were even wearing decent clothes to protect them from the cold. Rosa checked her pockets for a phone or some description and felt something.

She pulled it out and stared at the little blue bars on the pregnancy test. She was pregnant.

'What. Is. It?'

She handed him the test, not even realizing he couldn't see it. "I'm pregnant, Thomas. They raped me until I was pregnant. Making me deaf and humiliating me wasn't enough apparently. I have to be reminded for the rest of my life of what happened."

Thomas threw the test on the ground and stomped on it until it was just a piece of dirty, bent plastic. He grabbed her chin and made her watch him, his jaw was set. 'You. Sa-ved. Me. If. You. Want. I. Can. Help. You. Rai-se. It. A-ny-thing. You. Want. A-ny-thing.'

He grabbed her shoulders and repeated his last word over and over. He hadn't the strength to keep her from collapsing in the dirt. He sank down with her, holding her like he had so many times before.

That's how they were found, two gaunt figures holding on to each other by the side of a dirt road. One had eerie black orbs where his eyes should be, the other was crying. Her hand didn't leave her belly.

Had they finally succeeded in breaking Rosa? They might have. In any case, they sure had their examples. Not a single witness would dare to speak a word of what they saw or heard. Would you?