Introduction

His silhouette buried itself within shadows beneath tree branches. Nothing was visible except breaths pushing through chilled air in front of the man, hidden between a tree and bushes surrounding a two-story log cabin. His eyes stared into the darkness that buried a bedroom behind cracked curtains of the only window peering into its shadows, painted just ahead of him.

He steadied his breathing, calming his racing heart. He had been here before, many times. He knew it was too late for any neighbor to be awake; they never were when he came at this hour. He knew she would be by herself again this Tuesday night, as she always was.

The man could feel it inside him, he could hear its voice calling out to him.

“Take it. Tonight, is the night,” the whisper from within said.

He stood motionless, knowing that she would come through the door of her bedroom any minute. He had seen her do it too many times. His breaths quickened and his inhales grew deeper. His heart was beating beyond his control. His arms and legs shook slightly. It was happening.

“Wait for her,” the voice said, “steady. Hold steady. Wait.”

A light from the room finally lit four white walls and a brown dresser. A blonde-haired woman walked through a door beside the dresser, in only a towel, and the man’s eyes scanned her hourglass figure. There she was. His mouth filled with saliva as his ears perked and he listened for the slightest movement within the night.

He saw the same white sheets on the same queen-sized mattress in the same right corner of the room, just beneath the window, as he always did. There was just enough tan carpet between it and the door for someone to enter the room. He saw her looking at herself in the same mirror, on top of her dresser, as she always did, then turned his eyes toward the left corner of the room and looked at the brown closet door.

Nothing. Nobody was around as the man watched her towel drop and her body capture his every fantasy. Tonight, was the night. He could wait no longer.

“Be careful,” the voice said, “quiet. Wait for it.”

The man watched her take only shorts and a tank top from her dresser and put them on, dreaming of what it would be like to take them off. She lit a candle then took out the same black notebook he had watched her write in every night for the past three weeks. He watched her toss the notebook on her bed then walk out of the door. The time was now.

White gloves around the man’s hands pressed against the window’s glass as he slid it up and crawled through. He quietly shut the window then crouched as he positioned himself inside the closet, cracking the door enough to see the woman’s bed. It was time.

He heard the floor creak beneath footsteps then the door opened as the woman came through it with a bottle of water. There she was. The man made sure to keep his breaths short and silent. She had no idea that she was being watched. She had no idea why the hairs on the back of her neck stood, nor why there was a sense of outer energy encompassing her room. She couldn’t feel his eyes running their fingers across every inch of her body. She couldn’t hear the thoughts inside of his head, telling him what to do next. The woman just laid on her bed and started writing in her notebook, like she did every other night of the week.

“Now,” the voice said, “it’s time. Do it.”

The man didn’t make a sound when he opened the closet door just enough to fit through, then took two quick steps before watching the woman try to turn over before he hopped on her and trapped her within a body lock, positioning himself onto her back.

The woman screamed into his left hand as he slid his right arm around her neck and squeezed. He wrapped his legs around her midsection and constricted the air out of her lungs. She reached for the window as her face turned ruby red and her vision blacked out. He threw her to the ground and thought about how nice it would be to have his way with her, but there was much more to be done. He wanted her- oh, how we had dreamt of it for weeks- but not like this, and not with so much on the line.

“Where is he,” he asked the woman, who was holding her neck and choking on the life rushing back into her lungs. “Tell me now. I don’t want to do this. Where is your husband, Mrs. Vendrick?”

The woman’s emerald eyes, saturated in fear, desperately pleaded for her life as she said, “I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to him since he left for Bolivia three weeks ago.” She had never seen the tan-skinned man with black hair, who was staring at her with evil, brown eyes.

“Mrs. Vendrick,” he said, “tell me now or I will find out.”

The woman whimpered through a sigh then said, “I don’t know. Please. I haven’t talked to him in two weeks. Please. He left on a sales trip for work and hasn’t returned and I haven’t heard from him. He said he might be in a place that didn’t have any service or signal, so I’ve been waiting for him to get somewhere to call me. I swear. I haven’t talked to Griffon since I dropped him off at the airport. I swear.” She had backed herself against the dresser, nearly in fetal position, as she was as far away from her attacker as she could slide herself.

“Where is he, Mrs. Vendrick,” the man’s words slid through his lips in a monotone fashion, as he stepped towards the shaking woman. He pulled a clear plastic bag from his back pocket, opening one end of it as he raised it over her head. He could see hope escaping through streams running down her cheeks as tears flowed.

The woman raised her arms and yelled to the man, “He left me that box.” She pointed toward her bed, where a wooden corner poked its head from under the box spring. “Griffon told me not to open it until I knew he wasn’t coming back. I don’t know what’s in it. I didn’t even know what that meant. I don’t know what any of this is about. I just dropped him off for a business trip. I swear,” Mrs. Vendrick said through sobs, wiping snot from under her nose. “That’s all I have. I don’t know what you want.”

The man lowered his arms instead of covering the woman’s head with the plastic bag then walked to the box and opened it. There were twenty thousand dollars in banded hundred-dollar bills and a map of South America with a note. He snapped his eyes at the woman, then back at the paper, then back at her.

“What exactly do you know about your husband’s career path, Mrs. Vendrick?”

“They…he…they sell specialty power tools overseas. I don’t even know what type or where he goes half the time. What is all of this even about?” The woman’s body tried to loosen itself but fear gripped hold of her even more strongly. She started questioning the man she had been married to for the past seven years.

“Why did he leave you all this cash and this note, telling you where to find him? You’re not telling me something, Mrs. Vendrick,” the man said beneath furrowed eyebrows.

“No. Please,” the woman said, “I swear. I didn’t even open that box. I never saw anything it. I don’t know what any of this is about.”

“You’re coming with me, Mrs. Vendrick,” the man said, “we’re taking a trip to South America.”

“No. Please,” the woman begged, “I promise I don’t know anything. Please, just leave us alone. I don’t know what all of this is about, but I’m sure we can find a solution. Please, just wait for me to talk to my husband. I know he will take care of everything once he knows you’re looking for him. I don’t know what you want, but it all has to be a misunderstanding. Please.” Her voice was saturated with fear.

“Mrs. Vendrick, you’re coming with me or you’re not going anywhere again, and my boss would much rather hear that you didn’t make the trip back with me. Your husband has made many bad decisions over the course of the past year.” The man inhaled frustration as his eyes circled the ceiling before continuing with, “I believe you, though, Mrs. Vendrick. I don’t think you know anything about your husband. I think the man you married is a total stranger to you, and for that reason, alone, I am offering you a chance to save yourself.”

Mrs. Vendrick stared through the man, trying to wrap her head around what he could be saying, then said, “What do you want from me?”

“To walk to that dresser,” the man said as he sat on the corner of Mrs. Vendrick’s bed, “you need to gather a change of clothes and you need to listen to everything I tell you. That is the only way you will find your back to this house of yours. Now, hurry.”

Mrs. Vendrick took a moment to study her tan carpet, wondering if she would ever see it again. She thought about the argument she had just gotten into with her mother earlier in the day, and if she would ever be able to apologize for everything that she had told the dying woman. Questions engulfed her mind- who was her husband, really? She turned to her dresser and pulled out the top drawer as she started getting prepared to take a trip to a place that God only knew.

As soon as she touched a pair of pink and white underwear lying on top of the rest of her panties and bras, Mrs. Vendrick caught a glimpse of the man from the corner of her eye, through the mirror’s reflection, then felt a slight prick on the right side of her neck. The man’s hands grabbed hold of her shoulders and her knees gave out as her eyes instantly had weights pulling them down and her tongue forgot how to move. Everything went black and she collapsed within the man’s embrace.

Mrs. Vendrick’s eyes cracked slightly then began to blink harshly. Her lungs labored to fill themselves then pushed air back out through reverberating coughs. Blurred shadows and spotted lights highlighted holes bored through a wooden box that had just enough space to hold the terrified woman, causing her to throw up any food that was in her system as she realized she had just woken inside of a crate of some sort. She had no idea where she could be, nor how long she had been knocked out. Hairs on the back of her neck stiffened themselves as goosebumps ran across them and stood them up. Her clothes were soaked, and her nostrils burned from the smell of half-digested food and stomach acid. All she could do was bathe herself in rivers of tears as she started accepting the fact that she would soon be dead.

Sobs faded to pained hums, as Mrs. Vendrick was giving up. A loud snapping sound cracked through the air, then the ground vibrated below her to the sound of shaking metal raising. Voices came closer, then a hammer banged onto the box she was in. A pry bar poked through the top just as light flooded in, blinding the woman. She heard the man’s voice then felt a hand grab her arm and pull her out of the box. She wasn’t going to die in that box, after all.