Back at the hotel, Marlise was sitting on the bed in the small room in the room after using the shower. She had been given a toothbrush and mouthwash. She sat there, water dripping down her face from her hair.
She had spent two days in the hut with the madman. She had spent two days hoping that she wouldn't die.
She couldn't go back. There was no way she could go back.
The man, half of his face gone from where it had been cut off, had been killed. She could hear it. He had been thrown against a tree from the outside of the hut. He had screamed, and then she heard nothing. Marlise clenched her fists, and turned to one side. Her body was cold. She was still wearing a shirt and jeans. There was blood on them.
She could hear a man on the other side of the door. He was talking quietly to her. She could feel the panic rise inside her. His voice seemed somehow familiar, but there was no way she would be able to connect it to him. She had to recognise him, and she couldn't. She didn't want to be near him. She wanted to be out of the room.
She opened the door, and she realised it was the hotel manager.
His clothing was slightly more pressed than the last time she had seen him. He had combed his hair, and he was wearing a tie. He looked tired, and his eyes were bloodshot.
"I didn't know if it was you," he said.
Marlise had no answer. He crouched down and leaned on the door frame. He was only one level up from the next. Marlise found herself staring at his shoes. They looked old and badly maintained. She noticed a small hole. They looked like someone had punched them. The line became very clear. She could see that underneath is was just old leather, tarnished and weak. The holes looked deep.
"I don't think you want help. I'm going to be honest. I'm not a very observant person, but I saw you when they brought you in. You know? I could tell you had... seen some things that you didn't want to. I could tell you were a mess. I don't know what your story is, but I know a little bit about the island you came from. I don't know how you got here. I'm sorry about what happened."
He looked at the trees around him and the arid ground.
"I don't know how you got here. What are you thinking?" he added. Marlise looked down at the red carpet again.
"Do you want me to help you? I don't know if I can, but I'll try. That's all I can do. I don't think you are ready to leave, though. You're a victim. I'll leave you alone. Okay? I'm sorry." The man turned away from Marlise, and he walked away.
Marlise has been raped and tortured. She has seen people die. These things made her want to die, she thought. She didn't know how to cope with it. She didn't even know what it was yet.
Marlise remembered the forest. The people that she had killed. The vines. The flowers. The paintings. The statues. Most of all, she remembered the wind. It was as if she had entered a new world that wasn't her own.
She remembered the face of the man that she had killed last. He seemed like he didn't want to kill her. He seemed to want her to be happy. He seemed to be in pain. He had shown her kindness. He asked.
He was a victim.
There was no way she could escape her past, but she couldn't deal with it. She would just... her thoughts kept spiralling. She kept thinking about all of the good people she had met. She kept thinking about the kind people.
"Goodbye," she whispered.
She closed the door behind her, and she walked out.
She wanted to remember their faces. They were so innocent. They were so curious. They were so kind. They were so different. They were happy. They were so kind. They were so kind. They were so kind.
She was hurting. She wanted to forget them all. She wanted to stop thinking about them. She wanted to stop thinking about all of this.
She had to go back. She had to get away from everything. There was no escape. Her life was all over. She put her hand on the wall, and she kept walking.
She walked to the gate, and she was just on the verge of departure. She had taken her eyes off the man long enough. She had stopped listening, and she had been knocked to the ground.
He held her foot down, and looked down at her. Marlise closed her eyes and cried. It was over. It was all over. She was gone.
She heard him talk, the man. "You know, I know. You have to go. I'm sorry. I know. It's not your fault, though. It's everyone. It's everyone's fault, because we have time. We have physical laws. We have people like you. You have to leave. You have to go back, but you can't, and you can't do it alone. Please... you can't go back. No one can go back. Can you understand?"
Marlise felt herself. She tried to run. She tried to fight him. She couldn't even move. Her mind seemed to have been wiped.
The man's eyes looked angry. Or maybe sad, she couldn't tell. She couldn't tell. She couldn't see anything. The man looked down at her, and at her foot. He picked up her other leg and put the blue bag over her eyes.
He did it again. He said something more, but she couldn't hear it.
Marlise couldn't tell. She couldn't see. He pulled her up, and he faced her. She couldn't see the man. He was only a shadow.
She felt the bag come off her eyes. She saw a car. Marlise resisted, and the man took her to the driver's side. He pulled the door open, but Kili got out and stood in front of her.
"Do you know who I am?" His voice came out in a snarl. His nose was sore, and his chest hurt. He was lying down in the room, still in a bloody shirt. He did not appear to be in good shape. He didn't know what he was going to do. He was bracing for the worst.
Marlise tried to crawl away on her hands and knees. He grabbed her and forced her over the front seat, but she wasn't giving in. He took her feet, and forced them down onto the floor.
He moved into the front seat, and he closed the door.
He turned the car on.
Kili tried to understand. He had to calm down and concentrate. He had to focus and figure out what to do. He was on the verge of losing control, and he needed to calm down.
His mind was fragmented, as well. He was trying to think of who this woman was. He looked at her seatbelt.
It was locked.
Kili looked at her. She was bleeding from the same spot she had been before. She was bleeding. It looked like she had been buried alive. There was blood on the seat. She smelled like oil, which was in a different tone of light than the car.
He looked down at the floor. It was covered with her clothes. He was hungry.
The woman could tell he could see her because he had not tried to hide her. He could not see her. She had been cleared to do so, at least in her mind. It was ironic how one person could see you, and another could not.
He looked at her, and she stared back. The windows were tinted. He could just make out her eyes and her face. He had to focus. He had to remember who she was.
She could feel him. She could sense his body, and it hurt. She could feel him rip the automatic lock.
She could hear him. He was struggling. He was trying to keep quiet. She could tell that he was hurt.
She still couldn't see him. She could still not see him. She didn't know how long it would be. Was that two days? It hadn't been that long. He still didn't look like he wanted to hurt her.
She tried to see him. She called out to him from her mind.
Kili immediately took her into the back seat, out of sight of the windows. He felt her on the seat beside him, and he heard her breathing.
That was what she was afraid of. It was the only reason she had come. She was trying not to resist.
The front porch was all her. She was stuck. She was cold, and she was tired. She was going to have to figure something out. She was thankful for the air conditioning. He had told her that before. It wasn't cold in the car.
He put the car in drive, and he pulled back into the parking lot. He got off his side of the car, using the animal as a partition. He had to do something, and he had to do it quickly. He needed to get some help.
He looked at her again. He almost had the window. She could see the side of the animal.
She wanted to see him when she was done. She didn't want to go another day without seeing his face. That was the problem. She was getting stronger. What if she hurt him? He was afraid of her, though. He thought she was going to get away from him.
He thought he was getting through to her. "You have to go! You have to go back, but you can't go back. You can't do it alone!" He was shouting, and she still couldn't see him.
It was maddening. She wanted to just take the blindfold off. She wanted to see him. She wanted to see her... what?
Her captor, or her captor's captor?
She closed her eyes. He was withholding information from her.
They were so close. It was almost over. They would be there in a few minutes. It was about time, she thought.
She had been cold for so long. She thought of the blood on his shirt. She thought of the scratches on his face, and the tears in his shirt. She thought of the fact that she could see a little into the rear pane.
She had to wait. She had to keep silent. She had to wait. She was cold. She was cold. She was cold.
Kili had to find a place to put her. He checked the seat. There were still remnants of the cloth. He had to open the glove boxes. He had to see his options. There were none. They were all locked. He would have to open the passenger's door.
With a tear.
He drove back to the processing center. He turned the car off, and he ran into the building. He stopped in the elevator, and he ran down the hall to the Medical Treatment Center. He took the stairs.
He ran down the stairs. He had to get to the C wing. He had to find the door. He had to find the door. It was closed. He had to find a pass key. He had to get to the right floor. He had to get to the right room.
He couldn't breathe. He had to go. He had to get her in time.
He ran, and he coughed. His chest hurt. He looked at the key. It was a red button. He pressed it. He was quick. He had to make the medicine. He had to make it soon.
He took the elevator. He was then. He stepped out. It was cold and concrete. It looked like he knew his way. He kept his hands in his pockets.
The medicine was clinical. There was nothing to be found. It was not there. He had to hurry. He had to be quick.
It was hard to see. He ignored the dimness of the hallway. He ignored the chrome and the concrete. He ran to the opposite side of the C wing.
He had to find something that would help. There were so many things. There were so many options. He peered around the corners. He listened to the door. Nothing. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and he took the key back.
He walked to a door. It was locked. He pulled on the handle. It was heavy. He never stopped running.
He ran into another door. It was locked. He knocked. It was darker in there, and he couldn't make anything out. He tried to breathe. He tried to think.
He did what he had to do, and he thought. He was back in the hallway. He could see little through the windows. They had to hurry.
He continued down the hall, and he rushed into the C wing. He didn't acknowledge the numbers that lined the wall. He just picked the first room. He was slow.
He didn't care. She was freezing. He had to stop the bleeding. He had to stop the bleeding. He could not move. He could not move.
He grabbed a key from his pocket. He picked up the small bottle from the pocket on his shirt. He put the bottle on the tray with a piece of gauze. He took the tray and the bottle and the piece of gauze.
He ran back to the door. He used the key. He rushed back to the girl. His eyes were beginning to heal, but he could not focus on the pencil.
He pointed the bottle and the gauze at her.
She saw what had happened because she had seen all of his memories. She knew what he had done. She knew what had happened. She knew that he had let her go. She knew his feelings. She knew he wanted her to go with him. She knew that if she stayed, she would hurt him. She knew he would do whatever he had to do to make sure she knew what she would do if she stayed. She understood.
She didn't know what he was going to do. He did not wish her well. He did not want her to go with him. He wanted her to stay, and he told her so.
She knew he would do anything to keep her there. She knew he would do anything to make her stay. She knew.
He did not understand. She had seen all his memories. She saw him slice off his arm before the first time he had seen her. She saw him pray that morning before he went to destroy the shirt. She saw all the pain.
She saw it.
He had to do it faster. He had to make the whole thing happen again in his head. He had to keep her there. There was no time for it. There was no time to see it again. There was no time for it to happen again.
He felt inside his head, and he wished more pain. He wished it again. He went faster.
He sliced her arm. He didn't bleed, but he had to do it again.
She took a breath. He would be coming back. He would come back, and she didn't know where he would put her. He would go back to the house. He would get back in the car and come to get her. She would be bruised.
She was getting closer to him. She was getting closer to the other woman.
Kili came back. He came back in a hurry, and he had a stretcher. He had a stretcher. He had been taking one of the beds from the building. He came back with another. He pushed open the door, and he looked at the girl and an object he had never seen before. He looked at her.
He looked at the object. He looked at it for a second. He looked at her. He reached for her while holding the object.
He looked at the object, and he saw what he needed to see.
