The Pathway to Home

by CrimsonRose97

Chapter 3

Normally, Rachel would sneak back home roughly early in the morning, but she has spent the night celebrating with Justine and painting.

The girls threw themselves a little party throughout the evening, planning out their future and where they'll go.

For the first time in a long time, Rachel was feeling hopeful. It's not ideal given Justine’s new occupation but they have a way out.

She had a way out. Who knows, maybe if she works with this Storm King, he could help with her situation.

Rachel already knows Hell may be waiting for her after what happened to her mother, she's already living this degenerate lifestyle, might as well take the plunge and go deeper.

By the time the sun rose over the horizon, Rachel had finished her new painting.

As bleak and dark her life has become, her art work just exploded in bright colors. Mirroring the hopefulness the artist was feeling. There were butterflies, a field of gold wheat with some flowers hidden in the field. Overlooking the blue skies and fluffy happy looking clouds. Adding a white feather as her artist signature on the bottom right of the canvas.

Justine let out a whistle once Rachel stepped back, her hands, face and clothes had paint all over her. Her friend looks at the artwork. “Girl, that should be up in some gallery in Paris.”

“Oh I would love to go to Paris. Think with your new job, can we go?” The young teen asked, having an infectious smile, still in a celebratory mood, though a bit sleepy now.

“Oh I'm planning on taking you all over the world.” Justine said.

A phone rings off in her pocket. Justine pulls out her flip phone, sees the caller ID. “Speaking of the boss, I gotta take this call.”

“Okay.” Rachel said, grabbing a rag off of the car seat couch and cleans herself up a little as Justine steps away to have the call.

Rachel tried not to eavesdrop as she cleans her mess. Thinking about the future she and Justine will have. Surely her father wouldn't be dumb enough to go toe to toe against this Storm King fellow.

She knew she would have to make a final trip back to the house to grab her personal belongings. Since she didn't get back home in time to make food, her father would be furious, she knew it. The girls would have to sneak in while either the guy was at work or out hunting for his daughter.

Avoiding the predator was easier said than done.

Or just forget all of her stuff and clothes and use the robbery money to purchase what she needs and just go. Living a life was worth more than revenge.

Rachel unclipped the bear chain off of her belt loop to look at it. “You are cute,” she tells it with a smile and giggle, messing with its head and tiny arms. She loved its color pattern.

“Yeah, yeah, yes sir, I'll be there.” Justine comes back, closing the phone as she rejoins the teen.

“Everything okay?” Rachel asked as she slipped the bear in her pocket.

“Yeah, that was the boss. He just assigned me another job. Going to Mexico on this one.” Justine explained.

“Can the beater even make it to Mexico?”

“It barely made it to New Jersey. No, I gotta get a new ride. Good thing Storm King said he has a car ready for me to use, I just need to pick it up.”

“What about me?” Rachel asked.

Justine grinned. “Hope you're ready to eat some spicy tacos and look at Aztec Art work for two weeks..”

Rachel was ecstatic.

“Okay, I gotta go get the car and make some arrangements. Once I get back, we'll just get in the car and go. Last thing you need is to go back to your father's.” Justine said.

As much as she wants to get a few things, especially some of her mother's things, this was the best course of action.

“Okay, I'm gonna go get the car, pick some food up and come back for you. Promise.” Justine swore. “Hang back, catch some zzz's and be ready.”

Rachel nodded. “Okay, I'll wait here.”

With that, Justine gets into the beater and drives off, leaving the young girl alone.

Once by herself, Rachel stretched her arms and back out with a groan and a wince.

She slipped a hand underneath her shirt and felt her back, or what she could. The wounds on her back were still tender. From being repeatedly reopened by the monster whenever he felt like it.

Each time she would feel the hot object carved into her, she could smell her flesh cooking. That's how hot the bastard would get it to do damage.

Not wanting to dwell on this any longer, Rachel took Justine’s advice and went over to the mattress. Happily the last time she'd lay her head on it.

When she lay down, she took the keychain out. Smiling tenderly at the tiny bear before giving it a kiss on the head before curling up with it in her hands and closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

A few hours went by, Rachel was still resting. Was in the middle of having a good dream, dreaming about her and Justine relaxing on the beaches of Mexico. As she dreamed, she was suddenly awakened to a nightmare when a large hand covered her mouth and nose. Eyes panickingly opened and she muffled a scream.

Standing over her was her father!

“Hello baby girl.” Damian greeted his daughter with a malicious smile.

Rachel's heart raced as fear slid into place. As hard as she could, she kicked him in the balls.

Damian gasped from the kick, let's go of his daughter then kicked his knee before scrambling out of the bed and ran out of the building.

Parked just outside was his truck. Though it wasn't the same truck her mother died in, it had the same red color.

Rachel ran past it and took off running. Her worn out sneakers kicked up dirt as she raced through the field of discarded crushed cars and discarded various junk. Knowing the Devil himself was on her tail.

Rachel turned towards a rundown train car, pulled open the sliding door, jumped in and slid it close. There wasn't another set of doors so Rachel was shut in. Only lights were coming through various holes and cracks in the car.

She covers her mouth with her hands to muffle her erratic breathing.

“Oh Rachel!” her father called out to her from outside. Taunting her. “Come out, come out wherever you are. You know you can't run from me, I'll find you.” She could hear his footsteps coming closer and closer. “I always find you, my little killer.” He chuckled darkly.

Rachel scoots as far as she could backwards. Clutching onto the bear for comfort, knowingly her doom was near.

Rachel briefly digs out for her phone, hands completely shaken as she flips the top and dials Justine up. Going straight to the automatic voice mail.

“Thank you for calling, the number you're trying to reach is unavailable, hang up and try again later.”

Rachel calls the number twice and the same automatic response is picked up. Hot tears streaked her face.

Where the hell is Justine?!

Bang Bang Bang!

The siding of the train car was getting hit, causing the teen to shout out of fright. Phone and bear slipping out of her hands.

Damian starts humming to himself as he slides the door to the car open.

Unable to control her bodily functions as the teen soiled herself when she watched her father stepping into the train car.

And he looked like he was about to eat the canary with that twisted smile on his face.

“There you are, little girl.” He chuckled darkly.

Rachel was petrified, feeling so incredibly small and helpless against him.

Damian stalked his child. He grabbed her by the throat, causing her to choke out, shoving her against the car wall, pinning her so she couldn't move.

“Where's your little friend now?” He asked in a taunting voice, his hand cutting off her oxygen supply.

Rachel gasped, desperately trying to breathe while trying to get his hand off of her but she couldn't.

She was completely at his mercy. Mercy which he never had given to anyone.

Most certain towards his late wife and now daughter.

With his free hand, he pets her head rather sickly tenderly. “Who owns you?” He asks.

When she didn't respond, he slammed the back of her head into the wall before dragging her out of the traincar, throwing her out on the ground.

Rachel cried out and groaned from the impact.

When hearing him jump down, Rachel tried to crawl away, trying to leave but Damian caught her, grabbing a fistful of her hair and grabbing her left wrist in a death-like grip. Grabbing so hard that will leave bruises.

He leans into her ear. “No one is coming for you, Rachel. No one is. No savior, no knight in shining armor, no one gives a shit about you.”

“Please….stop.” Rachel begged between sobs. “Please dad, don't hurt me, I'm sorry.”

Damian laughs. “But that's the fun of it.”

POP!

Rachel lets out a scream when her shoulder was pulled out of the socket, dislocating her whole arm. Crying uncontrollably.

“I own you, Rachel. And I'm going to make sure you get it through that thick skull of yours.”

---

By the time Rachel came to, every fiber of her being was wrecked in pain. Her body, her soul, everything was in agony.

Her swollen blackened eyes barely opened, seeing that she was on the floor of the kitchen of her hellhouse. No telling how long she had passed out from the torture or left in her pitiful state.

Her back was screaming as fresh wounds were exposed.

Did she pass out after he started cutting her or after he had poured salt all over it to maximize the pain?

The tiled floor had a pool of her blood. Since she bleeds more profusely than some, there was a lot.

How long was she out??

The battered girl moans in pain as she used her good arm to slowly push herself to sit up. Everything screaming at her to lay back down but didn't. She sat there in silence, ears ringing as she tried to get her bearings.

“You alive, baby girl?” Damian calls out. Coming from the living room. “Yeah, you're still kicking. I'm impressed, most terrorists I've dealt with died with the punishment I gave you.” He giggled as if what he did was a big joke.

“Come into the living room, I got something here you need to see.”

No more, please God no more. Rachel whimpered. Just leave me alone…

“Don't make me drag you in here.” Damian calls out.

Having no choice, Rachel ends up crawling to one of the chairs at the dining table. Each move added more pain.

She used the chairs to slowly push herself up to her feet. Her dislocated arm hung limp as she shuffled across the small apartment.

She sluggishly comes into the living room, the TV was currently broadcasting the news live.

Damian looks up from his couch to look at his daughter. “Wow, you really took all of that.” He chuckled, acting proud that she took all torture and was still moving about.

Rachel said nothing but stared at him.

Her father then picked up the remote and unmuted the TV. “Take a look at this.” He motioned her to look. “If you can see that is.”

Fucker…

Rachel looks, barely seeing anything. There was a man on camera.

“Yes Morgan, a body was just recently found in an alleyway just outside of Brooklyn. The victim’s name is Justine Varon, a young 19 year old alleged petty thief was found beaten to death.” They then showed a picture of Justine on the TV. It was before she had dyed her hair that fushia pink, back when she was just a dirty blonde. “No suspect has been charged for the murder at this time.”

For the second time in Rachel's young life, her life shattered into trillions of pieces.

“Isn't that your friend?” Damian asked casually. “That's too bad. She was getting on my nerves.”

“What…did….you….do.” Rachel managed to speak. Each painful breath she could have a word.

Her father shrugs. “Maybe I did something, maybe I didn't. Who knows…I will say this, she put up one hell of a fight, I see why you liked her so much.” He then turned and gave her the most evilest smiles on his face. “And you know how I like it when they put up a struggle. Right, little killer?” Then proceeds to laugh at her dismay.

The laugh seemed to echo in her ears on constant repeat as Rachel finds herself sitting on the bottom of the shower. Stripped bare and having the hot shower running on her.

There wasn't a single part of Rachel's body that wasn't covered in deep, black bruising. Joints swollen, some organs internally probably were punctured, sure some bones were broken from her father's savage punishment.

Water constant turning red as her blood ran down the drain.

The echoes of Damian’s laugh grew with each passing moment.

What hope Rachel had of leaving was gone. The only light she saw in this bleak, cruel world was viciously ripped away from her.

First her mother, and now her only friend…gone.

Rachel was completely, and utterly alone.

I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!!!!!

Unable to hold it in any longer, against her the pain of her chest, Rachel belts out the most inhumane sound that rattled the tiles and mirror of that bathroom.

Author's Note:

Help is available
Speak with someone today
National Domestic Violence Hotline
Languages: English, Spanish and 200+ through interpretation service
Hours: 24/7
Call 800-799-7233

For those who have been reading the other fics:

Rachel at this age still believes she had killed her mother when we all know the truth 🔥🌋

Comments

[stag the story teller]

god, the guy's a monster

[HerrHauptmann]

I guess an execution is in order or crucifixion. Stray to hell he goes.