Vicious Little Darlings (25 page)

37

I
sprint to the door. While frantically jiggling the knob, I ask Agnes, “Where's your key?”

“On the kitchen counter.” She comes up behind me. “I have duplicates, but the basement only locks from the outside.”

“Fuck!” I bang on the door with the flat of my hand. “Maddy! Open up! This isn't funny.”

Silence.

“That's it,” I say. “I'm calling the police.”

“Wait, Sarah, hold on.” Agnes moves away from the door and begins to pace. “Let me think for a minute.”

“What's there to think about? We're trapped in a house with a psycho bitch!”

“Don't worry. She's not going to leave us down here forever.”

“Why are you still not getting this?” I say, throwing up my hands. “Maddy believes that killing one of us will give her longevity. She's
evil
. And sick. How can you still defend her?”

And then the answer hits me like a kick in the stomach: love. Agnes's unconditional, unrelenting love for Maddy. She'd never stop loving Maddy, no matter how many horrible acts Maddy committed, or how mentally defective she was. Though it's completely inappropriate, I feel a twinge of jealousy. No one has ever felt that strongly about me.

“She just needs to get past her birthday,” Agnes explains. “Then she'll be fine. She's afraid of becoming an adult. Eighteen is a big step for a lot of people. It wasn't for me, but I've always felt … older,” she adds. “And Maddy's life hasn't been easy. Her parents' death nearly killed her.”

“And now she's going to kill us!”

I feel the room closing in on me. Maddy could gas us, burn down the house. For a second I see the entire house ravaged by flames. We're going to die in this doll-infested basement. “I'm calling the police,” I say.

“Please don't,” Agnes pleads. “Not yet. Let me try something first.”

I exhale loudly.

She goes to the door and presses her palm against it. “M? Can you hear me? It's Agnes. Don't be upset. Sarah and I were just talking. I got the champagne you wanted. It's on the counter. See it?”

No response.

“Maddy?”

Still nothing.

Agnes shrinks away from the door.

“She's going to drown you, Agnes. She even tried to get me to help her.”

“And what did you say?” she says, meeting my eyes.

“I said no,” I lie. “Of course I said no.” Blood rushes to my face.

Agnes opens her desk drawer and takes out her cell phone.

Thank God, she's going to call the police.

Instead, I hear the landline ring once, twice, three times. Then Agnes coos into her cell, “Hi, M. How did your final go?” A pause. “Well, Sarah and I are getting kind of claustrophobic down here, so would you mind opening the basement door? Please? Thank you, Maddy.” Agnes hangs up, then says to me, “She's coming down. See? She's not as bad as you think.”

“She has your gun. We still have to call the police.”

“She's not going to do anything.”

“I feel sorry for you, Agnes. I really do. You're in love with a defective human being.”

Agnes ignores me.

Minutes pass and my intuition tells me that Maddy is going to leave us here to rot, so I take out my phone, dial 91—

Startled by the click of the lock, I drop my phone and bolt toward the door.

Agnes chases after me. I push the door open, and we step out of the basement just in time to see Maddy scrambling back up the stairs in a sheer white nightgown.

“Maddy!” Agnes calls out to her, but Maddy doesn't turn around.

I hear the tub upstairs running. Is Maddy planning to go ahead with our scheme a day early, even without my help?

Agnes charges up the stairs. Why is she going
toward
Maddy? But I can't leave Agnes, so I rush after her. Once we reach the top, Maddy's voice taunts us from inside the bathroom, “Come on in, girls.”

Agnes and I exchange a nervous glance before entering the glowing bathroom. Lit candles adorn the shelves, the windowsill, and the sink. To my right, the claw-foot tub is filling up rapidly. To my left, Agnes's bottle of Dom sits on top of the linen chest, alongside a notebook, a pen, and a vial of pills. Maddy is facing the wall, with her back to us. Slowly she turns around, clutching the gun to her chest with gloved hands. She's a demon doll, her gaze fixed and unnatural, her cheeks flushed.

Suddenly she aims the gun at me. My breathing stops. “Close the door, Sarah,” she says.

“Put the gun down, M,” Agnes demands.

Maddy redirects the gun at Agnes. “Shut up. Sarah, do what I asked.”

I kick the door shut, keeping my eyes on the gun.

With her free hand, Maddy points toward the tub—which I happen to be closest to—and says, “Turn that off.”

My hands shake as I reach down to turn the knobs. What is she planning to do? Make me drown Agnes? Or just shoot me instead?

With the water turned off, the room goes quiet.

Maddy re-aims the gun at me. Then she points it back at Agnes. It's as if she can't decide who to shoot. “So, which one of you wants to die?” she asks.

“M, put the gun down,” orders Agnes.

“Shut up!” She keeps the pistol pointed at Agnes. “The thing is, I'm conflicted. I can't decide which one of you deserves to die more. The Gypsy was wrong: she told me
one
of my friends would turn against me, not
both
.” Maddy's face turns overcast for a moment and then brightens. “But I guess it doesn't matter. Only one of you needs to die tonight, and since I can't make up my mind, I'll take a volunteer.” She pauses. “Who's it going to be?”

I avert my eyes. This is ludicrous. Maddy actually expects one of us to offer ourselves up as a sacrificial lamb? I don't want Agnes to die—of course I don't—but if I had to choose between the two of us, wouldn't I choose her? After all, I want to live. And Agnes is the one who got us into this mess and kept a loaded gun in the house. She wouldn't even leave with me when we had the chance.

“You'll never get away with this, Maddy,” I say. “I read your diary. I know everything now.”

“
I read your diary. I know everything now,
” Maddy mimics in a whiny tone. “So what?”

“I told Agnes what you were planning to do.”

“Agnes knows you agreed to help me drown her?”

I don't dare look at Agnes, but I hear her slowly exhale.

“You lied to me,” I say to Maddy. “You told me Agnes raped you, and then you said she was out to destroy me. Who does that? What kind of sicko are you?”

Maddy begins to squirm. “You're implicated no matter what, Sarah, so why don't you just keep your mouth shut. Unless you want to be our volunteer.”

If only I could distract Maddy long enough to knock the gun out of her hand.

Still pointing it at Agnes, Maddy grins at me. “I'm leaning toward you, Sarah, because Agnes and I have history, and at least
she
never fucked Sebastian behind my back.” Something slithers behind her eyes. “Sarah Weaver. Depressed student. Good at drawing. Drowned in a bathtub. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?”

Fear shoots through my veins. I imagine Maddy sliding my drunk body into the warm, soothing water. I imagine her holding me down underwater, while I kick and squirm.

I look over at Agnes, who is twiddling her thumbs, avoiding my gaze. “I'll do it,” she says suddenly.

Maddy's mouth falls open.
“
What?”

“No,” I say. “No one should have to die. Be reasonable, Maddy. Let's all just take a breath, blow out these candles, and calmly talk this over downstairs.”

Maddy gives me a dismissive glance. “If Agnes wants to volunteer, then that's her business, not yours.”

“Maddy,” says Agnes. “I'm only doing this to show you how much I love you.”

“Well, don't write that in your suicide note.” Maddy points to the items on top of the linen chest. “Grab that pen and notebook.”

When Agnes has the two items in her hands, Maddy commands, “Write: ‘May my next life be happier. Agnes Pierce.' And date it.”

Agnes looks up from the page. “Now what?”

“Open the champagne and swallow those sleeping pills.”

My eyes shift nervously between Agnes and Maddy. “Agnes doesn't drink champagne,” I say.

Maddy glares at me. “Yes, she does.”

“No, I don't, actually,” Agnes quavers. “It gives me migraines. If you ever paid attention to me, you would know that, Maddy. But you never pay attention to me, even though you say I'm your best friend. Why is that?”

Maddy rolls her eyes. “I'm supposed to remember all of your food restrictions?”

“You're a complete narcissist. I don't know why I didn't see this earlier. Maybe I did see it, but I thought you could change, if someone loved you enough. But it doesn't matter how much I care, does it? You'll never love me. Because you're incapable of love.”

“Drink up,” Maddy says with a gleam in her eye. “You won't have to worry about migraines when you're dead.”

Agnes picks up the bottle of champagne and twists off the wire hood. When she pops the cork, my heart jumps.

“You said you saw into my soul,” Agnes says, taking a swig of champagne before putting the bottle down. “You lied. You used me. I was just a means to an end. But the thing is, I've loved you for so long that I don't know how to stop. Even now.”

“If you really loved me, you would've helped me when I asked you to!” Maddy shrills.

Agnes shakes her head. “Some things are just …
wrong.
I wanted to protect you from destroying your life. I wanted to protect the part of you that was still pure and good.”

“Are you finished?” Maddy scoffs.

“I would've done anything for you, just not—”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Maddy covers her ears, pressing the pistol against her cheek.

I consider going for the gun, but somehow psycho-psychic Maddy senses this and the next thing I know, she's aiming it at me again.

Agnes picks up the bottle of pills. “Leave her alone. I'm already doing what you want.”

The room becomes suffocating, the air pulsating with heat and fury. Maddy and Agnes exchange a glance that I don't quite understand. Is it repulsion? Longing? A mixture of both?

“Okay,” Agnes says, breaking the silence. “I want out of this hell anyway. It's not worth it anymore.” She opens the vial of pills.

“No-o!”

“Shut up, Sarah,” Maddy commands.

While Agnes empties the vial into her mouth, my throat closes.

She chews the pills, chasing them down with the champagne without even a grimace. “Happy now?” she says to Maddy.

They stare at each other for a while, and I realize I'm witnessing something momentous, yet too tangled and intimate for me to comprehend. Outside, the wind moans. Maddy and Agnes just keep staring at each other. What is being communicated?

Finally Maddy turns to me and says, “I still think it should be Sarah,” and then she raises the gun toward my chest.

My blood lurches. My knees turn to mush. She's really going to do it. She's really going to shoot me. I wait for the moment—the flood of memories, my life flashing before my eyes, the regret that's supposed to come—but nothing happens. My mind goes blank. I feel oddly numb. Even before my own death I'm numb.

Maddy pulls the trigger. I close my eyes and the gun goes off with a crude, earsplitting sound. I'm going to die, I think, I'm really going to die.

A force knocks me down to the floor. I open my eyes. Agnes is lying on top of me.
What the …?
I try to get her to stand, but her body won't cooperate. “Agnes!” I shriek. “Say something, Agnes.” When she doesn't answer, I slide out from under her and that's when I see it. Blood. Spilling out of her chest.

This isn't happening.
This can't be happening.
Fuck!
What do I do? CPR? I don't know CPR. I look to Maddy, who's frozen in shock.

Agnes starts gasping for breath.

“Oh, God!” I howl.

She's twitching and she looks so scared and frail. Her ivory blouse is now crimson.

“You're going to be okay, Agnes,” I whimper, reaching for a towel.

I place the towel over her heart, over the gushing hole in her chest, and press down. Miraculously, the blood seems to stop.

“Maddy!” I shout.

She just stands there.

“Maddy! Call 911! Hurry!”

Maddy doesn't respond. The gun falls out of her hand, hitting the tile with a loud crack.

I get up, bolt out of the bathroom and into Agnes's room, and reach for the receiver on the nightstand. As I dial the numbers, a million thoughts ricochet in my head, too loud, too fast to register. When the operator picks up, I sputter uncontrollably. Then I hear Maddy's bloodcurdling scream.

I drop the receiver and sprint toward the bathroom just in time to catch Maddy slapping Agnes's face. When Maddy sees me, she cries, “She's dead!”

“
What?
” I kneel down, place my fingers on Agnes's thin neck, and feel for her pulse. Nothing.
Nothing?

“She's dead! She's dead!” Maddy shrieks.

No, this isn't real. It must be a nightmare.

“It should've been you, Sarah. She took the bullet for you. Why? Why? Why?” Maddy starts smacking Agnes's arms, torso, legs. “Don't leave me,” she sobs. “Don't go. You can't leave me, Agnes. Wait for me. Please.”

I yank Maddy's bloody hands away from Agnes. “Stop.”

“I didn't think she would take those pills,” Maddy cries. “I didn't think she really loved me that much.”

So it was a test?
What the fuck?
Didn't Maddy get what she wanted—longevity in exchange for her best friend's life?