Burn, Baby, Burn

“I don’t understand…”

Lucas grabbed Layla’s hand and pulled her along.

“No, I don’t like this place! I don’t want to go in there, Lucas.”

“Why?” His eyes blazed as he loomed over her, their bodies flush and consuming each other.

“I-I don’t know.” She trembled, her eyes darting back and forth as she tried to find some sympathy in Lucas’s glare.

“Shouldn’t we figure this out, Little Hippie?” He began pulling her along, even though Layla tried desperately to stop him, even pushing her heels into the ground to slow them down.

“Isn’t that what you tell me all the time? Face my fears? Why are you so damn scared of this place?”

“Why are you?!” Layla yelled, pulling free from him before they made it to the front door.

Lucas stopped, but he didn’t turn around. He could feel her fear, practically taste it, and he was nowhere near her flesh with his lips.

“It’s got a life of its own,” Lucas mumbled, not taking another step. “When I was a teenager, we used to come up here and party. Like I said, it’s where I met Lucy. She wasn’t in the best of shape though. This place will break you.”

“How can a place break you?”

“How come you’re afraid to get closer to it?” He turned around. “Something scared you here, Layla. You wanted to come here.”

She shrugged. “I’ve heard rumors. Ghost stories.”

Lucas sighed. “Ghost stories? You mean you’ve heard of all the hell that went on here.”

Layla nodded. “Yes. I didn’t come here as a teenager. I don’t know if I’ve been here. I feel like I have, and I’ve never liked it.”

“People have been hurt in this place, Little Hippie,” Lucas admitted. “I hurt people here because I was mad at my world.”

“Then why are we here? I know I asked you to bring me here, but—” Layla stopped short and stood there frozen. “I was here…”

Lucas watched as she passed him and went straight to the side of the house, where he knew there was a gaping hole in the side.

“How did you…?”

“I don’t know…” Layla stepped inside and looked around. The house was huge, obviously older than dirt, and probably ready to cave in at any moment.

Lucas followed, taking her hand as he stepped through the open wall.

“This place was nice at one time,” Lucas told her. “I mean, the debauchery and violence were still happening, but you could have some good parties here.

“All of this area was cleared and not grown over. I don’t know who owned it. Some old guy, but when he died and the county got it, they just let the kids take over.”

“Why was Lucy here?”

“She was visiting a friend,” Lucas told her as they slowly walked the rooms. “The first time I laid eyes on her I knew she was the one.”

Layla smiled. “She was a lucky girl to have caught your eye, Lucas.”

Lucas sighed. “I fucked her that night, Layla.”

Layla laughed. “You make sex sound so wrong sometimes, Lucas.”

“I was her first, and she didn’t tell me,” Lucas admitted.

Layla stopped and faced him. “How were you supposed to know if she didn’t tell you?”

Lucas shook his head. “I should have known. I should have seen that I was hurting her, but she didn’t stop me. I was on leave and horny as hell, yet there she was—this beautiful creature who just landed in my lap like a reward from the heavens.”

“Why did she let you?”

“We talked for the longest time, and I guess she figured it was right,” Lucas said. “We were married a year later, and she was pregnant right after our first anniversary. God, her parents loathed me.”

“Lucas, I think you just think people loathe you,” Layla said. “There can’t be that many people who hate your guts.”

“There are enough people who do. Lucy didn’t.”

“I don’t.”

They rounded another corner and ended up in what appeared to be the kitchen.

“This is so gross.” Layla crinkled her nose. “I’m sure there are squatters. Poor people need to have better shelter than this.”

“I don’t think anyone’s been here in a while,” Lucas offered. “I wouldn’t have said that ten years ago, but you could catch something just by looking at this place now.”

“So, what’s the bad stuff?”

“Violence, drugs, illegal activities,” Lucas rambled off. “Women were brought here for more than just a good time. I remember when they busted a bunch of creeps for bringing minors here—if you get me.”

She got him. She got him all right.

They rounded a corner and ascended the stairs.

“Is this safe?” Layla asked as she pulled Lucas’s hand closer to her body.

“We’ll take it easy,” he assured her. “Just stay close to me, baby girl.”

They ended up in a room where Lucas easily stepped over the threshold. Layla let go of his hand and stared into the room. It was a bedroom of sorts, and she couldn’t contain herself.

Somehow in her mind, the whole world stopped turning, and there was no Lucas—no one to protect her.

~“Let me go!” She drooled as he tied her hands up to the headboard. “I want my mommy.”~

~“She’s a fighter. Tie her ankles to the bedposts,” he said. “Don’t let this little bitch get away.”~

~Blackness. So many blurry faces.~

~“She’s mine, so you assholes can leave.”~

~“You’re a sick son of a bitch.”~

~“Please…please let me go… I won’t tell anybody!” Layla’s little whimpers were barely audible.~

~Another slap across the face. Another prick of something in her arm. Another set of fingers at her throat, squeezing until she passed out and then came to once again.~

~“You’re a pretty little girl.” He licked his lips. She could only see his lips—she couldn’t see anything else. He did have big hands. Massive hands.~

~Hovering over her, she could feel his weight pressing against her tiny body. Was he not clothed? Where were his clothes? Why was this man not wearing clothes?~

“Layla?” Lucas stood before her now and caressed her face, thumbing away her tears. “Let me know what’s happening.”

“No!” Layla turned and ran down the stairs, Lucas’s heavy footsteps following closely behind her.

They ended up outside, but Layla didn’t stop running. She ran the path she had taken at eleven.

She was eleven years old again, crawling now, crawling over the rocks and thorny branches to get away from that house—get far, far away from that man. That nasty, hideous, gross man…

“Layla!”

Lucas called her—or was it that man? She couldn’t tell. She wanted Lucas, but her mind was playing tricks on her again.

She wasn’t turning around. She needed to reach the road. If she reached the road, she had to be close to her house, but which way was her house? Maybe she wasn’t close to her house and they’d take her back to that place.

Someone grabbed her from behind, and she kicked and screamed and hit and bit down on Lucas’s arm.

“I want my mommy!”

“Layla!” Lucas held her close as she fell limp into his embrace. “Layla, it’s me. It’s Lucas.”

“Lucas?” Layla looked at him and shook her head. “What am I doing, Lucas? What the hell am I doing?”

“I don’t know, Little Hippie.” Lucas stroked her hair, kissing her forehead. “Are you hurt?” He looked her over and pulled her into him again.

“Don’t make me go back there, Lucas.”

Lucas was angry. He was determined to find out what had happened to her at that place and who had done it—and then he’d have fun torturing them until they begged to die.

And then?

Then he’d burn the godforsaken place to the ground.