For You (Yes I know its a story shhhhh)

My name is Wrenthal, but everyone calls me Wren. It's been three
days. Since I felt her close to me, your heartbeat comforting me
through my skin. And now this. No note. No email. Nothing. This isn't
like her. No one knows where you are. Not your Mom not your friends.
No one. So I search. I've been searching for 48 hours straight.
Finally, bleary eyed and running out of faith, I caught a break. Some
one saw you sleeping in the back of an S.U.V. driven by someone they
only knew as the caretaker. I asked where I could find him. Their
answer drew a knot in my stomach. He's a caretaker at a
graveyard. "Can't miss him," they said. "He has a burn from a house
fire or some such. Sticks out over his shirt collar." I thank them
and ask which cemetary he works at. They can't remember. And that
brings me to this moment. I've checked out four cemetaries today,
with any luck number five will pay off. If nothing else just to let
me know that you moved on and found someone better but didn't wanna
hurt me. I pray that's the case as I pull into the cemetary. The
first thing that strikes me is the music. Up beat with alot of bass
kinda sticks out amongst the tombstones. Not normal but then again
I'm in a graveyard looking for my girlfriend. How normal is that? I
park the truck and start looking around when it begins to sprinkle,
not big fat raindrops just something refreshing from this drought. I
knock on the rickety old shacks door, and a young man answers the
door. Not what I was expecting with a nickname like "Caretaker", but
ok. "Can I help you?" he asks with the raise of an eyebrow. His
blonde hair laying across his forehead as if hes been sweating
recently. My puzzlement slides across my face and I cock my head to
the side slightly, "Are you Caretaker?" His turn to show
puzzlement, "I'm THE caretaker if thats what you mean." I looked at
him thoughtfully, "Are you the one that people call Caretaker?" A
wierd look crosses his face for an instant. "Maybe I am, why?" I hold
up a picture of you sitting there at the foot of our bed your red
hair cascading down your shoulders. A shy smile creeping across your
lips. My beautiful Celeste. "Have you seen this woman?" What was
that? That look... "No I haven't." The one that crossed his face.
Then I notice it, the burn scar on the right side of his neck. That's
what they said I'd be able to tell him by at the Quickstop. My eyes
widen slightly, and it's hard but I keep m voice calm. "Funny. The
people at the Quickstop said she was sleeping in the back of your
S.U.V. Caretaker." I didn't see it coming, you rarely do. A sucker
punch. Didnt look like he had that kind of power in him. Stupid Wren.
I should have known better. Looking up through the pain and Caretaker
isn't there. A sound, one I remember well from my days in the army as
heavy weapons. It's the slide on a pistol sliding back and chambering
a round. Bastard has a gun. My Cel's probably dead and he wants to
send me to join her. A sad smirk crosses my face. Well then, mustn't
keep him waiting. The rain's gone from a little pitter pat to fat
raindrops pounding on the roof. They'll cover my movement through
this dump that he calls a house. Dingy and small, something on what I
assume is the kitchen table catches my eye. Polaroids, all with
unconsious women in them. Labeled different things like Fluffy. My
eyes are starting to burn as I realize what this sick fuck has been
doing. And my poor Cel wasnt his first. He drugs them, and then
buries them by the pictures... Probably video tapes it too. Then a
pale red headed beauty catches my eye. It's a picture of Cel, labeled
Angel. A noise perks my ears up from just above the sound of the
rain. DAMNIT WREN! You should've looked, should've known that even
this rat hole would have a back door. I race through this dump in a
rage, knocking the table to the floor. As I move through the sound
gets louder. The son of a bitch is running. I come to a messy bedroom
and the sound seems to be coming from the closet. The room is small
and cramped barely room for the dresser and the bed that are stuffed
into it. I reach for the closet door thinking he cut an escape door
in his closet. But its not a closet. It IS the back door. As it opens
violently I hear the tires spin a bit and see the tail lights dart
across my view. I can still hear the music from the stereo in the
living room. I turn to run for my truck when I see the first one. A
cross with one word on it. Fluffy. What looks like a pet cemetary is
more than that. And who would think to check the pet cemetary for
human remains? Theres about 12 plots. Some of which are probably
real. Just little plots with crosses. Except for one cross thats
lying next to an area thats devoid of grass. My fingers tremble as I
walk towards the area. If this is for a pet then its for a large dog.
One look at the cross sends me into a panic. Right there, in large
black letters is a five letter word that I saw earlier. I drop to my
knees and begin to tear at the dirt. Thinking that my angel is in
there, since thats what was on both the cross and her picture. I
focus, determained to get her our of her earthen prison. Rain
drizzles down my face and torso as my hands claw at the ground.
Throwing dirt behind me like a possessed dog, I can almost feel
clawed fingers wrapping around my heart at what I might find. And
then I hit it. My fingers graze what feels like her finger. Once
again I curse myself for not paying attention as a shot rings out and
i feel a stinging in my right shoulder. Stupid stupid Wren. The force
of the bullet takes me to the ground, daggers of pain begin to spread
from my collar bone down and out. A splash behind me. I think I got
lucky. Not sure. Rain's making it hard to tell how much blood is
pumping out. I lay there as he walks over and kicks me onto my back.
I lay there with my eyes half open slowing my breathing. Praying the
bastard buys the possum routine. Something deep in my gut tells me
he's not buying it. His foot pressing down on my right shoulder is a
clear indication that he doesn't buy it. As my shoulder blade juts
out through the ragged hole from where the bullet punched through my
back and presses into the mud I can feel shards of collar bone
shifting through the area, and letting me know just how badly I'm
hit. My lung is still intact and I'm not bleeding too bad so my
artery is intact as well. I can't keep it quiet, screaming out. The
bastard grins. "Glad you're still with me bud. I usually only get to
hear screams through the dirt and grime and its all muffled. I think
I like the sound of it. Screams in the open. I think I'll have to do
that to my next playtoy." Grunting though the pain and glaring at
him, "There won't be a next one!" He presses all his weight into my
shoulder causing the collarbone to crack more. That's gonna put me
out of it if I live through this. I slam my left hand as hard as I
can into the back of his knee causing all that weight to buckle his
knee. What the hell was I thinking? A 9mm, best as I can tell from
this angle. Not used to seeing the caliber from the open end which is
now pointed at my face. Two things cross my mind. "I wont be able to
save her." Followed immediately by, "I'm boned." My left hand is
pinned in the back of this guy's knee, dont think I can muster up
much in my right arm. She's so close I can almost feel her, and still
I failed. Watching me struggle he laughs, it's enraging. "Now that
I've got you here. Let's have a little chat, shall we?" Another gun
shot. This time through my left shoulder, I think the bullets lodged
in the shoulder blade. "There that should keep you from fighting too
much. You came looking for "Angel", why? Is she worth your life?" He
shifts freeing my left hand but putting more weight on my right
shoulder, moving the bone fragments around shredding muscle. "Aren't
you gonna scream for me?" I glare at him defiantly, "I am not heling
your sick ass get your rocks off." He jams his finger into the new
hole, air hisses through my clentched teeth. My visions starting to
fade. "So answer me." He demands. I gasp trying to remember his
questions. "I... I love her, and as long as she lives then yes, it is
worth my life." He starts wiggling his finger ripping apart the
cauterized flesh, bringing pain and fresh blood loss. The pain pulls
me back into myself and I start seeing things a little more clearly.
Hes set the gun aside and has his weight shifted to my left. Come on
Wren you've come this far now's not the time to throw in the towel.
He's staring at my wound that he's playing with so left arm isn't an
option. I kick up with my right leg letting gravity take him off of
me, ripping his finger out of my shoulder with a chunk of flesh. No
time to stop now. His scalp gets caught on C.A.T.'s cross as he falls
tearing a gouge across the right side leaving flesh and hair to
dangle like a bloody windchime. I try to reach with my right arm, the
limb thats acting like it belongs to someone else. Worthless arm. I
reach across for the gun with the arm that does listen, trumping pain
with willpower. He's on me again, pushing his finger back into my
wound with his right hand and grabbing my wrist with his left.
Clentching my jaw I draw my head away from his mouth like I'm trying
to avoid being bitten, then I snap it back with all my might aiming
for the bridge of his nose. Bingo. Starbursts. Brilliant starbursts
of pain flash across my vision. Coupled with the ever growing
darkness thats pushing in from the edge of my vision I dont know how
long I have left. I shake my head to clear some stars. Blood drips
from the point of impact, not sure who it belongs to, nor do I care.
Probably both of us. I go for the gun again feeling light headed and
weak, I pick it up and the three pound pistol feels like it weighs a
ton. Quickly now Wren. I turn everything seems like it's in slow
motion. He's screaming holding his broken nose. I vaguely
smile, "Self defense asshole!" I squeeze the trigger of the violently
shaking weapon and hope my luck holds out. It does. Right above his
steepled fingers a hole appears as the firearm wrenches itself from
my grip. He's gone and the darkness is threatening to take me. Hurry
Wren. Prove you're worth a damn. I get back to where I felt the
finger to see hands clawing their way up and out, your beautiful face
shows through and I know you'll be ok. I hit my knees in front of you
as you're clawing your way out. "Cel baby, you're alive and safe. I
can rest now." As the darkness envelopes all that I see I fall. The
last thing I hear is your sweet voice saying, "Wren!"
My eyes open and all I see is the ceiling over me and Cel's bed.
I must be in hell cause I'm alone. My arms feel like lead. My
shoulders itch something fierce. The door opens. I expect Lucifer
himself or that prick that tried to take my cel from me. But it's a
Vision of beauty. It's her. My angel. Guess I was wrong. Must've done
something right to land myself here in heaven. She walks in in a
little nurses outfit with a tray. Setting the tray down she turns and
kisses my forehead. Looking deep into my eyes she smiles. And then
smacks me, "If you ever scare me like that again I'm gonna kill you!"
I grin through the pain, "I love you too. I'm just glad you're
alive." She begins to change the dressings on my shoulders even
though I keep telling her to rest. She's been through more than I
have and I can;t help but think how lucky I am to have my Celeste.