Warning: Unlike my first story this one is dark, nasty, and hopefully disturbing. Read at your own risk.

Home Sweet Home

Dr. Penelope Ranes stood outside the house waiting for the lead detective to come and take her inside. The house could more accurately be described as a mansion, though it was one of the smaller holdings of an old and very powerful family. She imagined many a lavish party had been thrown here, though it was to imagine it now with all the flashing lights and police vehicles around. Finally, the detective who called her made his way over to her.

"I'm sorry to have called you out in the middle of the night, but we didn't know what else to do. I suppose we could have tranqed him, but then it would be hours before we could a statement out of him."

"I just hope I'm able to help. This is such a tragedy," she responded as they made their way inside the house. She had been warned what to expect over the phone, but nothing prepared her for what she saw. The scene she was brought to was in a living room that had once been pristine and perfect. The kind of room no one ever actually sat in. Now, it was in disarray and splattered with blood. The bodies of the couple who owned the house had been stabbed so many times they were in pieces all over the floor.

Standing in the center of all this horror was a boy of about 12. He was naked except for the large amounts of blood covering his body. His face was pale and expressionless, but his eyes darted around the room keeping track of all the guns trained on him. He was breathing heavily, but not moving. In his hands were two large and very sharp knives.

Penelope made her way slowly and carefully towards the boy, stopping just out of his reach. She tried to look him in the eye as she introduced herself. "I'm Dr. Penny, I'm here to help you."

His voice was flat as he replied, "No, you're not. Nobody is." He never even looked at her.

"But I am," she said gently, trying to build a rapport. "Can you tell me your name?"

"I don't have one," he said, turning his head slowly to look at her, but still watching the armed officers carefully.

"Everyone has a name."

"I don't. THEY never gave me one."

A heavy knot started to grow in Penelope's stomach. She was getting a bad feeling about what had really happened here. "Where are you from, then?"

"Where am I from?" He didn't seem to understand the question.

"Where do you live?" She tried again.

"In the basement." The knot in here stomach started to grow bigger.

"What about before you were in the basement? Do you remember living somewhere else?"

He seemed to think about it for a bit before answering. "No, just the basement." Then he smiled a humorless smile. "They thought I would never be able to get out, but I did." He went back to staring out into the room.

"I need to talk to the detective for a minute. I'll be back. Just stay still. Okay?" There was no response. She made her way back to the detective and asked him "Has anyone searched the basement?"

"Yeah. They found a hidden room. We're pretty sure that's where he was kept."

"I need to see it, now."

"You really don't want to do that."

Penelope was adamant, so the detective took her down to the basement room where the lab techs were already at work collecting evidence. She was shocked at what she saw. She'd seen pictures of dungeons and torture chambers that looked friendlier. The room was tiny, and the only entrance was concealed in the wall when closed. There was no natural light, and very little light of any kind. The place was filthy, and the smell made her want to vomit. There was no furniture, just some torn and dirty blankets in a pile on the floor. There were no clothes or other personal items, either. The room wasn't empty, however. Penelope didn't want to contemplate what the assorted items and instruments had been used for.

One of the lab techs came over to brief the detective. "We found blood on the instruments and the blankets, all his. We also found other body fluids on the blankets, both male and female, none of it his." Penelope thought she was going to be sick. The detective had to lead her out and back upstairs.

"Who is he?" she asked the detective.

"We don't know. Missing Persons came up with nothing. Whoever's missing him, they're not looking for him, not here anyway."

Penelope pulled herself together and went back to talk to the boy. "I saw the basement. I know what they did to you. It's over now. These officers don't want to shoot you, but you need to put the knives down or give them to me."

"Nobody cares," he said matter-of-factly.

"I do, now please, give me the knives. Let this be over, and I can take you away from here." He looked at her for a moment, then slowly handed her the knives. In an instant several officers tackled him, bringing him to his knees and cuffing his hands behind his back. One officer kept his gun trained on the back of the boy's head as they made to move him out of the house.

"Stop it!" Penelope shouted. They ignored her. "At least cover him up," she said as she grabbed a throw from what was left of the couch and wrapped it around him. Outside, she confronted the detective. "They're treating him like a criminal when he's the victim," she said angrily.

"No one's ever going to know that," he said.

Penelope couldn't hide her shock. "What about all the evidence?"

"You know who these people are, the kind of reach this family has. That evidence will never see the light of day."

"Then what will happen to him?"

"He'll be taken to Milledgeville for rehabilitation."

Penelope couldn't take it. "But that institution is a nightmare. They don't rehabilitate anyone there. They just teach them to be better killers."

"At least he'll be a killer for the state instead of a loose cannon."

"But he's just a child!"

"That's why he's not dead. Do you honestly believe he can be helped, Doc? Look at him. It's too late for him. He's like a wild animal that can't be released. All we can do is put a leash on him and hope for the best. Go home, Doc. Just go home and forget all about this. You can't help him."

The detective walked away as Penelope watched two officers put the boy in the back of a police vehicle. His eyes never left hers. Once again, he had shut down. The only expression was in his eyes. She saw hatred, anger, and defiance there, but no fear. He had nothing left to lose and couldn't even imagine a time when he had.

No, she couldn't help him, and he never expected her to. But that did nothing to ease her profound sense of failure. The only thing he had wanted was for someone to know the truth about what happened to him even if no one else knew or cared. She could give him that at least, even if that truth haunted her for the rest of her life.