The Anatomy of Nell

Plink. Plink. Plink.

Nell grimaced as the grave metronome of drips from the ceiling continued their relentless assault on the cold cement below. Each one shooting a spit of water onto her leg, which tickled like a spider crawling down her shin. The boy opposite her blinked, the slight furrow in his brow deepening. And as they sat at that small, scarred table, she thought they might both go mad.

“Noah,” she spoke, and she nearly jumped at the shock of her own voice croaking into the stiff air. Between them, there was only a stained paper cup, which they had long since drained of its contents, and a small cage. She cleared a bit of gravel from her throat and continued softly… “I don’t have to.”

The twins gripped each other’s hands fiercely across the table. He stared at her, but her eyes were cast downward at some nondescript point on the wooden surface. “I know that. But still.”

“Then why are we just sitting here? Why aren’t we making a plan to escape and–”

“You know that’s not a good idea.”

“Well sure, but we can’t very well give in!” The exasperation in her voice had risen so quickly, she had to measure herself. “I… can’t very well give in.”

“No, that’s not ideal either but…” He continued, dropping his gaze this time, “but for your own sake–”

“For my sake? I don’t think so–”

He exhaled sharply. “Oh, for God’s sake–”

“Maybe,” she cocked.

“Don’t be asinine.”

“Don’t be such a bully.” Nell yanked her hands from his, her wrists and finger joints barking at the sudden movement. They had been sitting like that, with their hands firmly attached, for what seemed like hours. So until now, she wasn’t altogether sure they hadn’t gotten stuck that way.

In front of her, Noah pursed his lips and wrung his hands gingerly before shifting his focus to the little cage sitting thus far untouched by the both of them. Now, despite growing an air of suppressed vehemence, he pushed the cage tentatively, almost gently, toward her. The small creature inside chittered in protest. Expectantly, simply, he posed. “Go on then.”

She took a beat. “I don’t have to.”

“But you’re going to.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because I know you.”

“I’m a different person now–”

“And you crave validation.”

“Not from you,” she bristled.

“No. From him.” The silence prickled between them. Once again it was only the maddening drip of the leaky ceiling clicking at the tempo of a funeral march. The tone growing ever more threatening. He continued, “Even in this situation. You’re stubborn, and you always have been. But you won’t pass up the chance to be extraordinary.”

She bucked. “I don’t need him to be extraordinary. And I don’t want to be known for this!”

“You don’t have to be. You just need to prove yourself first.” He shifted, and something like a shadow crossed his face. “Then you can be whatever you want to be.”

“Why can’t I be like you.” It was more of a statement than a question.

And he scoffed. “That’s ridiculous.”

“No, you have it so easy! You’re not so obvious. You’re like…” she threw her hands up haphazardly. “Nobody’s hunting you down and trying to use you–”

“Oh, don’t pretend you don’t love this,” he jabbed, shaking his head.

Her mouth gaped. “What??”

“Like you don’t love the attention–”

“No, Noah, I don’t actually love having strangers appear in my room at night,

dragging me away to filthy dungeons and asking me to do things for them.”

“Right–”

“Believe it or not–”

“Right, because what’s the alternative?” He piqued. “You’re not special. And we surely can’t have that.”

Her eyes flicked to the ceiling and a puff of air shot from her nose. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Am I? I think you would rather all this happen,” he gestured widely, “than nothing at all.” Another furious silence hung in the air. “Anyway, you’re stalling.”

“I don’t have–”

Suddenly, the twins twisted their heads in tandem as they noted the footsteps echoing through the hallway behind the only door in the room. Two sets. A low murmuring of voices accompanied them. They swiveled back to each other with new alertness.

“He’s coming,” Nell whispered, with hushed intensity.

“Do it now,” Noah fired.

“I can’t!”

“Yes, you can.”

“I’ve never actually done it on purpose before!”

“Well now’s a great time–”

The door swung open, groaning unpleasantly. Two men entered the room. The first was a smallish man with a shock of greasy red hair and a scar from his forehead to the center of his cheek. The second, a tall, slim figure with hair like the starless night and a sinister air of allure dripping from his presence. It was him. Damon. He scanned the siblings with an icy blue gaze while his red-headed minion approached and jeered. “Nope. Still kickin’. I thought so. But she don’t look like much, do she?”

Damon peered into her. “Oh, I think she knows exactly what she needs to do and how to do it.”

“Then why ain’t she done it yet?”

He smiled darkly. “Maybe she wanted an audience.” Then he stalked toward Nell, slowly, as if all the time in the world would halt if he commanded it to. She tried to swallow but the saliva got caught in her throat halfway down. Finally, he towered in front of her, drawing her eyes upward. Though everything in her wanted to present stone-faced, she felt herself shrinking and shrinking. “Kill it,” he instructed, with calm imminence.

Nell faltered a bit, even though she knew fully well she would be asked to do this. “I- I’ve never done it on purpose before…”

“Oh, it’s not much different than doing it by accident. Take it from me.” His eyes glinted, and she wondered what horrors he had inflicted up until now.

“What if I don’t want to kill it.” She knew that wouldn’t go over well.

He angled. “I’m sure Randall here doesn’t want to kill you either. But he will if I ask him nicely.” Behind him, the rough-looking minion chuckled grossly and raised his hands slightly as if to shrug. His nails were jagged and grimy and she didn’t want to know what the substance was underneath them.

She gasped, “But–”

Her brother, who must have been similarly afflicted by Damon’s dark presence, managed to pipe out, “You said she didn’t have to! Earlier, you said she had a choice…”

He grinned like a black cat happy to be bringing bad luck. “Of course she doesn’t have to. I’m a reasonable man. But someone with her abilities is much too dangerous to have running around without supervision.”

“I don’t need supervision,” she spat, and nearly immediately regretted it.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I sensed you for a reason. You are completely helpless against your own capability and it’s growing every second.” He paused and lowered his eyelids. He spoke with a rumble. “I can feel it. Before you know it, you’ll hardly be able to control yourself.”

“What makes you think you can do anything to help me?” Nell sniffed.

Wordlessly, he leaned forward, placed a hand under her chin, and tilted her head up. She went silent, his eyes piercing hers like an arrow to a bullseye. He was so close that she could feel his breath fan across her face. Suddenly, he clamped both hands around her temples and she tensed, going into herself. She was falling into darkness and all that was left of that room was the garbled cry of Noah calling her name, and the faint drip of the leaky ceiling.

Plink. Plink. Plink.