When the Dark Wins

You’re welcome, I think to myself. I take another sip of wine as I glance around the room. It’s nothing spectacular—a few pictures hanging on the wall, none of which are people. I find myself smiling at the fact that he likes to hang art in the place of family and decide that I’ll ask him about it later. My eyes continue to wander before they rest on the mantle above the fireplace. There’s a massive deer skull ordaining the wall directly above the fire. Curiously, I continue to look around the room and notice the smaller skulls of other animals, which tells me that he’s an avid hunter. Then again, in these parts, there’s not much one else can do with their time, and hunting can turn a good profit depending on if you go down to the trading posts.

Another thirty minutes of me sitting in the living room with a now empty glass of wine passes, before Lowell peeks his head in.

“Hungry?” he asks with a wide, friendly smile on his face.

“Famished,” I reply, getting to my feet and walking toward him. He grins and takes the empty glass from me and I follow him through the kitchen and into a small dining room just beyond. He sets the glass down at one end of the table and pulls my chair out for me. “Thank you.” As I sit he refills my glass before walking back out of the room again.

“Alright, I hope you like it. If you don’t, you’re not required to eat anything, but I thought since we’re gonna have a long night ahead of us, you might want some fuel for your body,” he says with a chuckle as he re-enters the room and sets a large platter with two huge, glistening steaks on them in the center of the table. “Um, hold on. There’s more.”

I raise an eyebrow at him as he leaves the room again, and as I eye the steaks my stomach lets out a loud growl. When the hell was the last time I ate, anyway? Too many days couldn’t have passed because I would have just robbed someone instead of working for the money.

“Okay, this is it. If it’s not enough, let me know and I’ll make something else,” he says returning to the room and setting a large ceramic bowl full to the brim with mashed potatoes in them. They smell like garlic and herb and I feel like a starving animal waiting for my master to tell me I can eat.

“Dig in,” he says as he settles into the seat at the opposite end of the table and smiles.

I don’t hesitate. I pick up my plate and knife, reach forward and stab the steak closest to me, dropping it onto my plate. Next, I grab the ceramic ladle that’s buried somewhere in mashed potato heaven and dump two scoops next to the steak before I lean back in my chair ready to devour my meal.

“Hey, Burgundy?” Lowell says suddenly. “Mind if we say grace first?”

My mouth is already wide open and the piece of steak I’ve cut myself is taunting me from the edge of my fork. I can taste the fucking thing from how close it is, but I decide that I can go ahead and wait five more minutes while he does his prayer mumbo jumbo.

I place my fork back down on the edge of the plate and fold my hands in front of me. A big smile spreads over his face as he does the same, bows his head, and closes his eyes.

“Since you’re the guest of this house, I’d like you to say grace please,” he says quietly.

I roll my eyes and groan internally as I try my best to remember a prayer—any prayer—from my days at private school.

“Bless this food and the man that prepared it. May both be a rich source of nourishment,” I say, stumbling over my words.

Lowell chuckles, and when I open my eyes, I can see the amusement dancing on his face.

“Amen.”

“God, I’m so full right now. That was an amazing dinner. Probably the best I’ve eaten in years. Thank you, Lowell,” I say as I pat my belly.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I could do that for you,” he replies, a smirk on his handsome face. “So, let me get this cleaned up and then we can go downstairs, okay? That’s where I would like this to take place if that’s alright with you.”

The basement?

“Sure. Wherever you want,” I reply indifferently, with a sweet smile. For the moment, he’s my benefactor so if he wanted to hitch up a wagon and throw some hay in it, I’d still be willing to fuck him for the amount of money he promised me.

Lowell nods and grabs the platter first, then returns for the ceramic bowl. I can hear him in the kitchen moving around for a bit as I lean back in the chair and close my eyes. I let out a content sigh as I think of how my life is finally heading in the right direction. I can’t wait to get off the streets, so maybe I’ll stay here for a week and get a good little investment going. Maybe he’ll let me stay longer—time will tell, I guess.

“Hey,” the voice comes.

“Huh?” I open my eyes, unaware of the fact that I had apparently managed to doze off for a few moments, but Lowell’s kind smile tells me that he didn’t mind.

“You about ready?”

I reach up and use the back of my hand to wipe my mouth, praying that I didn’t drool on myself during my impromptu nap and nod. “Yeah. Sorry about that,” I say nervously.

“Oh, it’s okay. I usually take a nap after I eat too,” he replies with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Come on.”

I nod and get to my feet and follow him into the kitchen where I see a metal tray prepared with food and I raise an eyebrow curiously. Lowell grabs it and continues to walk back toward the living room. I’m not exactly sure where the entrance to downstairs is but I’m damn sure it’s not in there.

Of course, he manages to prove me wrong once again as he walks toward the large bookcase sitting on the far left wall and opens a slender door next to it. I hadn’t noticed it because I wasn’t looking for something so secretive, and I can feel something in the pit of my stomach again making me nervous.

A quick glance at me over his shoulder to make sure I’ve followed him this far, and he smiles, steps back, and motions for me to enter the room first. I linger for a moment in the middle of the living room,