Chapter Text
Calm acoustic music hummed in the speakers of Bailey's small car, barely drowning out the pattering of the rain on the windshield and hood. Bailey, eyes ever vigilant on the road, let out a long, deep sigh. Today was nerve wracking, as social days usually are. Bailey really started to despise social gatherings over recent years, especially with family members. She knew that most of her family was uncomfortable around her, seeing as they treated her like a stranger that somehow wandered into their household. Trying to act hospitable and polite around an irritating, awkward stranger.
She didn't know why she bothered staying so late at the reunion, leaving at 10:30 PM when her own home was hours and hours away. For the time being, it felt like the right thing to do, spending as much time as she could with her family, but now it only felt more pathetic and clingy the more she thought about it. She knew they wanted her to leave sooner, she just knew.
She was always better off alone.
She was fine.
It was good for everyone.
She was happy being alone.
It was honestly relieving to come closer to her home in the countryside, starting to recognize far away houses and large trees that became comfort to her in her lonesome. No more passing through the big city and crammed neighborhoods. Home was her paradise. The rain started to clear up as she got closer to her perfect isolation near the forest.
I'll feed Lily, then go to bed.
Feed her dog, then sleep the unnecessary stress away. That was her plan.
She was sorely mistaken, thinking that her night would end so easily.
A white figure shown in the distance on the side of the road, illuminated by her headlights. Bailey slowed down the car and squinted, trying to see past the slightly wet windshield to get a better look.
"The hell..?" She muttered.
Was that a dead animal? As she drove closer, the features became clearer.
It was a man, bound and beaten, laying motionless on the curb.
"Oh my God!" Bailey gasped as she slammed on her breaks, the tires of her car screeching to a halt.
She quickly undid her seatbelt and opened up the driver's door, hopping out onto the wet road and rushing to the figure. He was laying face down in the grass while his body was curled on the road. Good Lord, anyone not paying attention could have easily run him over. His hands were bound behind his back, his wrists scratched and burned from the hard rope. His arms were covered in bruises, too. She could see a cloth tied around his head, around where his mouth was. She turned the man over on his side to see his face.
Bailey's heart might have stopped.
ENTHUSIASTIC CULT LEADER LEAVES ENTIRE COMPOUND DEAD!
Suspect still at large
Bailey backed away in horror, disbelief, fear and disgust. This was him. This was Daniel Jones. The cult leader she's seen again and again on the front of every newspaper. He was a murderer. He was broken in front of her, covered in gashes and scrapes.
Looking him over, she noticed a particularly large, bloody wound in his stomach, the blood showing through his white shirt. He was bleeding a lot. Bailey stepped closer to him once more and kneeled down, feeling at his neck. He still had a pulse...but for how long would he keep it?
She stood up and put her face into her hands.
She was so close to her home, now. So far from the local police stations and hospitals. She could do the entire country a favor and leave him to die and get rid of the threat entirely...yet something inside her mind told her otherwise, her thoughts bickering back and fourth.
If you leave him to die, you're no better than he is. You're a murderer.
I didn't hurt him.
Yet you are choosing not to save him. You're still apart of his demise if you leave him.
She groaned loudly. She couldn't leave another living being to die alone on the side of the road. That just wasn't right. She could take him home, stop the bleeding, then call the police. She slapped herself in the face a couple times to wake herself up. This was going to be a long night.
"God help me." She mumbled, gripping the little black cross that hung around her neck.
Bailey ran back to her car and opened the back door. She ran back to the murderer and grabbed him under the arms, lifting him up to the best of her ability and dragging him to the car. He was surprisingly light, which was kind of worrying. She gently set him so he was laying on his side in the backseat of the car, somewhat comfortably. She considered untying his wrists, but shut that thought down when she thought of what he'd try if he woke up in a stranger's car. He could attempt to get her to crash the car, or strangle her, or anything a panicked, insane cultist would do. She clicked one of the seatbelts around his torso. Bailey got into the front seat and drove home.
Once they arrived to her house, the rain started up again. Bailey unloaded Daniel and pulled him up the steps to her door. Fumbling for her keys, she unlocked the door and opened it, pulling Daniel in. She was welcomed by the sound of Lily, her golden retriever, barking and running to the front room. Lily woofed curiously when she saw her person with a strange man.
"Down girl, down! I'll feed you in a minute, sweetie. Mama just needs to help this man, okay?" Bailey patted the golden pup quickly before heaving Daniel down the hall and up the stairs.
She dragged Daniel to the guest bedroom and turned on the light. Golly, she never thought this room would ever be used. Bailey heaved him onto the bed with dark orange sheets and brown quilted blankets. Sighing from exhaustion, Bailey caught her breath. She sat still for a moment. What was she going to do now? She looked to the unconscious figure next to her and gazed at the bloody spot on his shirt worriedly. She quickly got up, rushed out to the hall and into her bathroom. She grabbed a clean white towel and ran back to the room. She pushed the towel onto his side and soaked up the blood. There, that seemed to work. She took his cloth gag off and set it on the bedside table. She looked to his wrists and huffed. She couldn't leave them like that. It looked painful.
Bailey sat for a moment in thought before an idea crept into her mind. She mumbled, her face flushing in embarrassment at the thought.
"He's gonna take that the wrong way, Bailey." She mumbled.
"Oh, kill me. It's the only way."
She stood up and rushed to her bedroom, opening her closet and digging for a certain little package she was embarrassed that she even had in her possession. She found it and opened it.
Her drunken online purchase, two pairs of handcuffs. They looked normal, save for the cushioned insides. She smacked her forehead. She had bought these years ago, and yet she never returned them or threw them away. Gross.
She walked back to the guest room. Daniel was still motionless. She moved towards his hands and with some effort, undid the tight ropes. She flipped him onto his back and leaned his head on one of the pillows. She looked to the headboard of the bed and clicked the handcuffs onto the sides of it. She tried to put them at an angle where it wouldn't be too uncomfortable for her guest to lay down. God, this looked so wrong.
Cuffed to the bed, Daniel was no longer a massive threat. More like a medium sized threat...still a threat nonetheless. Bailey walked back to the bathroom and grabbed a bottle of vinegar from under the sink and a washcloth. She came back, sat on the bed, soaked the washcloth with the vinegar, and gently cleaned the man's wounds.
The burning sensation of the vinegar on the cuts made Daniel twitch in pain, making a quiet, timid noise. Bailey automatically shushed him, trying to calm him down. It was honestly a sad sight, seeing this man in such pain.
But he deserves it.
Bailey clicked her tongue at her own bitter thoughts.
That's not for me to decide. I'm human, he's human, and I'm not going to let him suffer. Not now, at least.
After cleaning him up, she put the blankets over him and propped his head up properly on the pillows. It almost looked comfortable. Almost. She felt bad to leave him in his dirty, bloody clothes, but the last thing she was going to do was strip a cultist down and re-dress him. She could give him clean clothes in the morning.
Bailey clicked the lamp on the bedside table off and patted Daniel awkwardly on the shoulder.
"G'night." She mumbled as she stood up.
She walked out into the hallway and shut the door behind her. She looked to her wall mounted clock and sighed. 1:27 AM.
Feed the dog. Go to bed. Those were the only plans now.