Post by Silence on Feb 19, 2011 23:41:26 GMT -5
Jessica Vann watched the landscape pass by with uninterested eyes. As far as she knew it was just another road leading to another foster home. In sixteen years she’d been in twelve foster homes, each as conniving and horrible as the last. Every time she went to the a new home it was the same dog and pony show as before, things would go well enough for a few weeks, maybe even a few months, but in the end they were all the same, they were only interested in taking advantage of a young girl. Maybe this one would be different though. She scoffed at the notion, dreams were all well and good, but experience had shown her they rarely, if ever, became reality. This home would be no different from the last twelve.
Jessica wondered how long it would take this one to either drive her away or kick her out. Her record was three days; her last home had lasted six weeks. She was amazed the last one had lasted as long as it did; Mr. Miller had been an angry drunk, prone to beating on anything or anyone within arm’s reach. And as the newest member of the household, that had often been her. The final straw came one night when the family patriarch had come into her room at night, drunk of course, and had tried to force himself on her. A timely lamp to the side of the head has put a stop to his perverted machinations. She left that night, taking her attackers wallet and as many of her meager possessions as she could carry, she took off into the night. At least until the police had come looking for her. She’d been to jail before, a few days here, a week there. Even ninety days in a Juvenile Corrections Facility. Her last stay had been brief. She’d only been locked up a few hours before Mrs. Whipple, the owner and administrator of the “Whipple Home for Girls” had come to get her. The
severe looking woman had not been happy.
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“Well what do you have to say for yourself Mrs. Vann?”
Jessica lifted her head from behind her arms, but continued to cradle her knees, “I don’t have anything to say, he tried to rape me.”
The older woman reached out to slap the young girl but stopped herself; it would not do to be caught hitting a child in a police station. “Mr. Miller claims you assaulted him and then stole his wallet. But he’s offered not to press charges providing you don’t come back. I’ve already filed the necessary paperwork.”
Jessica stood up, her heart pounding with rage. “So that’s it? I go back to the girls home and that pervert gets the chance to rape another young girl!?” She yelled. “What the hell is wrong with you people?”
Mrs. Whipple’s face flushed red with anger as she spoke through gritted teeth. “You would do well to hold your tongue Jessica. I’ve just saved you from another blight on your already shoddy record. You already have no future child, but are you so eager to throw what’s left of your pathetic life away?”
Jessica could no longer maintain her anger. All she could feel now was sorrow and self pity. Overwhelmed by it all, she began to cry. Mrs. Whipple called for her to come along as the door to her cell was opened.
Blindly obeying, she rose from the cot and followed. Arriving back at the girls home, Jessica was forced to pay a visit to the facilities head disciplinarian, Mr. Whipple. He was not an overly large man. Not overly strong, but strong enough when compared to a young woman. And he was always careful not leave bruises where they could be seen.
The bruises faded over the following weeks. They went from a deep black and blues to a dull brown to a fading yellow before finally disappearing all together. But while bruises fade, memories remain. . She’d be eighteen in less than two years and then she’d be gone from this place, she’d be on her own, she’d be free of this hell. Jessica plan to stay unnoticed for the next eighteen months lasted only five weeks. Mrs. Whipple called Jessica to her office.
Jessica timidly opened the door, the cavernous office seeming larger than normal. Mrs. Whipple sat behind her desk while a smartly dressed man stood to the side. Both turned to regard her as she walked in. Not meeting their eyes, she watched the floor as she took a seat.
Mrs. Whipple cleared her throat, “Jessica, this is Mr. Lewis. He works for a very nice man upstate who wishes to adopt you.”
Jessica said nothing. She was tired of this. She just wanted to finish out her sentence in this prison and be done with it. She was tired of people trying to “rescue” her only to abuse her. Mr. Lewis took the seat next to here and reached towards her. She instinctively recoiled from his touch.
“Jessica, my employer knows all about your situation and he sympathizes. He’s already raising one young man, and only wishes to help. You would be afforded every advantage that you haven’t had; it would be a new life for you. Everything you have ever wanted Jessica, all you have to do is say yes.”
------------------
Of course the choice hadn’t been hers. It never was. When it came down to it, orphans were good business, so long as the books showed them being adopted. The car took a sudden left hand turn and Jessica got her first glimpse of her new home. The stately grounds spread out before an equally stately house. The house was easily twice as large as the girl’s home she’d just left and judging by the outside, in infinitely better shape.
There was a crunch of gravel underneath the tires as the car stopped in front of the house. She didn’t move, unsure as to what she should do. The choice was made for her as Mr. Lewis, the driver, opened her door for her and ushered her outside. She blinked her eyes, trying to acclimate to the sudden change in light. As her vision cleared she saw Mr. Lewis come around the car with her bags.
The driver set the bags at her side and turned towards the house. She started to follow him but he turned and shook his head. “Stay here. The Voice will be out shortly.”
She shook her head as if she understood. Who was The Voice?
------------------
The Voice sat alone at his table. Silence was out prowling the grounds somewhere, the brute preferring to be outside now that the colds of winter had begun to diminish. The Voiced picked up his fork and took a savory bite of his lunch, liver with fava beans and a nice Chianti. He’d been in a foul mood all week thanks to the naïve words of the bleeding heart Paul Sant. Who did that man think he was, insinuating that Silence would be better off without his guidance?
The Voice took another bite and smiled mirthlessly, Sant was a fool. And fools who crossed The Voice usually met a very unfortunate end. So it had been with John Parker, so it had been with Dustin Douglas and Morgan Jones, and so it would be with Sant. He could hardly wait to watch Silence tear the man apart. With his newest weapon of control, which was running late, Paul Sant would stand no chance. That thought alone was enough to cheer up The Voice.
The Voice was taking another sip of his wine when his chauffer announced himself. “Sir, the girl is here.”
A broad smile creased his face as he rose and wiped his hands clean on a napkin. “Excellent, let’s go meet the newest member of the family shall we.”
The Voice followed Lewis outside where a young girl stood, looking very unsure. Past the uncertainty though The Voice saw fear, he saw vulnerability, he saw hatred. He smiled wider, he had indeed made the right decision. He could mold this girl into an altogether different type of weapon than Silence, but a weapon none the less.
“Jessica Vann,” The Voice beamed, “Welcome to my home. Welcome to your home. I am The Voice, but I hope in time you will come to call me father. Was your trip pleasant?”
Jessica nodded, not meeting his eyes. “It was fine sir.”
The Voice closed the last few steps and knelt in front of the girl, “Now now Jessica, no need to be so formal. You’re family now. And family helps one another. Now Jessica, I need very dearly need your help. Would you be willing to help me?”
Here it comes, thought the girl, the nice old man goes away and out comes the pervert. Despite herself though, she nodded yes. There was something about The Voice, as scared as she was she actually found herself wanting to help him.
“Yes sir. I mean The Voice.”
“Thank you Jessica, I am in your debt. Now my problem concerns my adopted son. Mr. Lewis told you about my first protégé did he not?”
“No not really, only that he’d been with you for a long time.”
The Voice was careful to maintain an even tone, “Well you see, several years ago I adopted a young man with no name, a young man who lacked the ability to speak. His name is Silence and he is my protégé and bodyguard. Unfortunately Silence has lost his focus and that’s where I need your help. You will give Silence his focus, acting as his sister. I want you to bring forth his protective instincts so that we can harness them and he can better learn to protect us, his family. “
“Why does he need to protect us?” she asked.
The Voice swept his hand around, indicating the grounds and the house behind them, “As you can see I am a man of no small means. But during my ascension to power I have made no shortage of enemies who would like to see me brought low before I can complete my destiny.”
Jessica just stared at her eccentric benefactor, “Oh. I guess that makes sense.” In truth she had no idea what he was talking about.
The Voice ignored her hesitation, “Marvelous. And for your part in this Jessica, you’ll be well rewarded. As my newest protégé you’ll want for nothing. And some day, long from now when I’m gone you will inherit my position and my destiny. The choice is yours Jessica. Power beyond imagination for helping me control Silence or back to your old life of misery and cruelty.”
The Voice continued on, not giving the scared girl a chance to say anything, “I know what you have been through Jessica. I know about the physical abuse, I know about the emotional abuse, and I know about the,” He trailed off. “I know. I offer you the world child. The chance to make all those who would hurt you, who would cast you aside tremble before you. I offer you life of respect, of power. All you have to do is say yes.”
Jessica stood rigid. She could see the gleam of madness in The Voice’s eyes. It scared her. But it also excited her. All of her life she’d been told she was worthless, that she was a burden. This man, as crazy as he possibly was, was offering her an alternative. He was offering her something she’d never had before. How could she pass that up?
“I’ll do it.” She said with steadfast determination.
And suddenly the mad gleam in The Voice’s eye was gone, as was the manic edge to his voice. Had she imagined the madness? No she decided, it had been there, it was still there. It was just lurking underneath the face in front of her. Jessica Vann had known the Voice for less than ten minutes and already she understood that he was a very dangerous man.
The Voice, sans madness, stood up and offered his hand to the young girl, “Fantastic. Now come along, there is someone I would like you to meet.”
Jessica wondered how long it would take this one to either drive her away or kick her out. Her record was three days; her last home had lasted six weeks. She was amazed the last one had lasted as long as it did; Mr. Miller had been an angry drunk, prone to beating on anything or anyone within arm’s reach. And as the newest member of the household, that had often been her. The final straw came one night when the family patriarch had come into her room at night, drunk of course, and had tried to force himself on her. A timely lamp to the side of the head has put a stop to his perverted machinations. She left that night, taking her attackers wallet and as many of her meager possessions as she could carry, she took off into the night. At least until the police had come looking for her. She’d been to jail before, a few days here, a week there. Even ninety days in a Juvenile Corrections Facility. Her last stay had been brief. She’d only been locked up a few hours before Mrs. Whipple, the owner and administrator of the “Whipple Home for Girls” had come to get her. The
severe looking woman had not been happy.
------------------
“Well what do you have to say for yourself Mrs. Vann?”
Jessica lifted her head from behind her arms, but continued to cradle her knees, “I don’t have anything to say, he tried to rape me.”
The older woman reached out to slap the young girl but stopped herself; it would not do to be caught hitting a child in a police station. “Mr. Miller claims you assaulted him and then stole his wallet. But he’s offered not to press charges providing you don’t come back. I’ve already filed the necessary paperwork.”
Jessica stood up, her heart pounding with rage. “So that’s it? I go back to the girls home and that pervert gets the chance to rape another young girl!?” She yelled. “What the hell is wrong with you people?”
Mrs. Whipple’s face flushed red with anger as she spoke through gritted teeth. “You would do well to hold your tongue Jessica. I’ve just saved you from another blight on your already shoddy record. You already have no future child, but are you so eager to throw what’s left of your pathetic life away?”
Jessica could no longer maintain her anger. All she could feel now was sorrow and self pity. Overwhelmed by it all, she began to cry. Mrs. Whipple called for her to come along as the door to her cell was opened.
Blindly obeying, she rose from the cot and followed. Arriving back at the girls home, Jessica was forced to pay a visit to the facilities head disciplinarian, Mr. Whipple. He was not an overly large man. Not overly strong, but strong enough when compared to a young woman. And he was always careful not leave bruises where they could be seen.
The bruises faded over the following weeks. They went from a deep black and blues to a dull brown to a fading yellow before finally disappearing all together. But while bruises fade, memories remain. . She’d be eighteen in less than two years and then she’d be gone from this place, she’d be on her own, she’d be free of this hell. Jessica plan to stay unnoticed for the next eighteen months lasted only five weeks. Mrs. Whipple called Jessica to her office.
Jessica timidly opened the door, the cavernous office seeming larger than normal. Mrs. Whipple sat behind her desk while a smartly dressed man stood to the side. Both turned to regard her as she walked in. Not meeting their eyes, she watched the floor as she took a seat.
Mrs. Whipple cleared her throat, “Jessica, this is Mr. Lewis. He works for a very nice man upstate who wishes to adopt you.”
Jessica said nothing. She was tired of this. She just wanted to finish out her sentence in this prison and be done with it. She was tired of people trying to “rescue” her only to abuse her. Mr. Lewis took the seat next to here and reached towards her. She instinctively recoiled from his touch.
“Jessica, my employer knows all about your situation and he sympathizes. He’s already raising one young man, and only wishes to help. You would be afforded every advantage that you haven’t had; it would be a new life for you. Everything you have ever wanted Jessica, all you have to do is say yes.”
------------------
Of course the choice hadn’t been hers. It never was. When it came down to it, orphans were good business, so long as the books showed them being adopted. The car took a sudden left hand turn and Jessica got her first glimpse of her new home. The stately grounds spread out before an equally stately house. The house was easily twice as large as the girl’s home she’d just left and judging by the outside, in infinitely better shape.
There was a crunch of gravel underneath the tires as the car stopped in front of the house. She didn’t move, unsure as to what she should do. The choice was made for her as Mr. Lewis, the driver, opened her door for her and ushered her outside. She blinked her eyes, trying to acclimate to the sudden change in light. As her vision cleared she saw Mr. Lewis come around the car with her bags.
The driver set the bags at her side and turned towards the house. She started to follow him but he turned and shook his head. “Stay here. The Voice will be out shortly.”
She shook her head as if she understood. Who was The Voice?
------------------
The Voice sat alone at his table. Silence was out prowling the grounds somewhere, the brute preferring to be outside now that the colds of winter had begun to diminish. The Voiced picked up his fork and took a savory bite of his lunch, liver with fava beans and a nice Chianti. He’d been in a foul mood all week thanks to the naïve words of the bleeding heart Paul Sant. Who did that man think he was, insinuating that Silence would be better off without his guidance?
The Voice took another bite and smiled mirthlessly, Sant was a fool. And fools who crossed The Voice usually met a very unfortunate end. So it had been with John Parker, so it had been with Dustin Douglas and Morgan Jones, and so it would be with Sant. He could hardly wait to watch Silence tear the man apart. With his newest weapon of control, which was running late, Paul Sant would stand no chance. That thought alone was enough to cheer up The Voice.
The Voice was taking another sip of his wine when his chauffer announced himself. “Sir, the girl is here.”
A broad smile creased his face as he rose and wiped his hands clean on a napkin. “Excellent, let’s go meet the newest member of the family shall we.”
The Voice followed Lewis outside where a young girl stood, looking very unsure. Past the uncertainty though The Voice saw fear, he saw vulnerability, he saw hatred. He smiled wider, he had indeed made the right decision. He could mold this girl into an altogether different type of weapon than Silence, but a weapon none the less.
“Jessica Vann,” The Voice beamed, “Welcome to my home. Welcome to your home. I am The Voice, but I hope in time you will come to call me father. Was your trip pleasant?”
Jessica nodded, not meeting his eyes. “It was fine sir.”
The Voice closed the last few steps and knelt in front of the girl, “Now now Jessica, no need to be so formal. You’re family now. And family helps one another. Now Jessica, I need very dearly need your help. Would you be willing to help me?”
Here it comes, thought the girl, the nice old man goes away and out comes the pervert. Despite herself though, she nodded yes. There was something about The Voice, as scared as she was she actually found herself wanting to help him.
“Yes sir. I mean The Voice.”
“Thank you Jessica, I am in your debt. Now my problem concerns my adopted son. Mr. Lewis told you about my first protégé did he not?”
“No not really, only that he’d been with you for a long time.”
The Voice was careful to maintain an even tone, “Well you see, several years ago I adopted a young man with no name, a young man who lacked the ability to speak. His name is Silence and he is my protégé and bodyguard. Unfortunately Silence has lost his focus and that’s where I need your help. You will give Silence his focus, acting as his sister. I want you to bring forth his protective instincts so that we can harness them and he can better learn to protect us, his family. “
“Why does he need to protect us?” she asked.
The Voice swept his hand around, indicating the grounds and the house behind them, “As you can see I am a man of no small means. But during my ascension to power I have made no shortage of enemies who would like to see me brought low before I can complete my destiny.”
Jessica just stared at her eccentric benefactor, “Oh. I guess that makes sense.” In truth she had no idea what he was talking about.
The Voice ignored her hesitation, “Marvelous. And for your part in this Jessica, you’ll be well rewarded. As my newest protégé you’ll want for nothing. And some day, long from now when I’m gone you will inherit my position and my destiny. The choice is yours Jessica. Power beyond imagination for helping me control Silence or back to your old life of misery and cruelty.”
The Voice continued on, not giving the scared girl a chance to say anything, “I know what you have been through Jessica. I know about the physical abuse, I know about the emotional abuse, and I know about the,” He trailed off. “I know. I offer you the world child. The chance to make all those who would hurt you, who would cast you aside tremble before you. I offer you life of respect, of power. All you have to do is say yes.”
Jessica stood rigid. She could see the gleam of madness in The Voice’s eyes. It scared her. But it also excited her. All of her life she’d been told she was worthless, that she was a burden. This man, as crazy as he possibly was, was offering her an alternative. He was offering her something she’d never had before. How could she pass that up?
“I’ll do it.” She said with steadfast determination.
And suddenly the mad gleam in The Voice’s eye was gone, as was the manic edge to his voice. Had she imagined the madness? No she decided, it had been there, it was still there. It was just lurking underneath the face in front of her. Jessica Vann had known the Voice for less than ten minutes and already she understood that he was a very dangerous man.
The Voice, sans madness, stood up and offered his hand to the young girl, “Fantastic. Now come along, there is someone I would like you to meet.”
