Concealed

The wind was howling as the rain splattered on the windows, rattling them in their frames, of the quiet suburban house. Seth Vyas jumped every time a floorboard creaked.

"They are just settling noises. Calm down!" he scolded himself inwardly. Nothing was going to happen. Brandon, a friend whom he had known since his early days in the orphanage, had helped him formulate this plan. And he was an expert. He would get the money and get out of the house before the family returned and no one would suspect.

Seth crouched into a dark corner as he saw a shadow flit across the ceiling. He stayed in that position for a moment and pondered going back, but the allure of the prize he would soon gain was too great. It would let him leave this god-forsaken city. Start somewhere else, all over again. He could establish a new identity and live as he wished this time. But to do that, he needed the money, and this was the only way. He had no other option. He thought about this as he continued to walk stealthily towards the end of the hallway.

The darkness impaired his vision, but he didn't intend on using his flashlight. It was too conspicuous and he could not risk being caught. As he slinked down the hallway as quietly as a snake stalking its prey, his ears registered the tinniest of sounds, a small cry of a girl. It was so low that at first Seth thought that he had imagined it, but as he walked farther, the sound increased in volume and intensity.

Slowly the sound turned into a harsh sob, full of intense pain, loneliness and most of all, a sense of hopelessness. Seth broke out into a cold sweat. Brandon had assured him that the house was empty. The family living here was away on vacation. He considered leaving before he was discovered, but quickly discarded that idea. This was his only chance to get the money.

By now, he felt as if the cry was booming throughout the house. He could feel the anguish deep within himself. He wondered what could enable someone to produce such a noise. Instead of turning away and running before he could be caught, Seth walked towards the sound. It was as if a foreign entity had taken control of his limbs and was directing them now. His curiosity would not release him.

His feet came to a rest in front of the basement doors. There was nothing odd about it. It was the standard white door allotted to all the new houses being built now days, yet it seemed as if it was painted with a sense of foreboding. His hands moved, as if controlled by gossamer strings, clutched the doorknob and slowly turned it.

Musty air rushed out and engulfed him. Seth could almost see the smell of the mildew burrowing into his skin and his clothes. Slowly, he started down the stairs. As he walked, he realized that the cries had grown considerably weaker.

"Hello?" Seth called out apprehensively. The pitch-black darkness seemed to gobble up his words, a black hole in the nether of outer space. The fact that he could not here the sound anymore disconcerted his mind. He continued into the darkness and called out another couple of times. Just as he was about to blame the cries on his imagination and give up the futile search to return upstairs, a muffled sound resonated from the wall to his right. Seth cautiously inched towards the wall. Slowly, the smell of semi-dry cement reached his nose and the muffling grew louder. The possibility of what had happened sank into Seth's mind, but he would not believe it. He balked at the prospects of his theory being correct. No, this couldn't be. Even after being exposed to some of the vilest things, he could not believe that someone was capable of such maliciousness, such atrociousness. Barricading a person alive behind a wall and leaving them to die, Seth couldn't fathom anyone doing that. Yet, it seemed that this was exactly what had happened.

"Don't worry, I'm here. Just be calm. I'll help you." Seth tried consoling the girl. He didn't know if he was making the effort for her or for his own benefit. He knew that if he was given time to stop and think absorb this situation, he would be too shocked to do anything "What is your name?

"E…Ele…Elena," replied a whispery thin voice. Seth realized that the girl was on the verge of unconsciousness, and if she slipped through now, she would never awaken. "Please…please help me. They left me here. I begged them to stop but they wouldn't listen"

"Okay Elena, my name is Seth. I'm going to help you, but first tell me, who are they?"

"The people…of the house"

"But why?"

"…I…I don't know. I can't think. I'm so sleepy…"

Sleepy, Seth wondered, why was she sleepy? Something stirred in his memory, a long ago school science lesson. It was a confined space, which meant only a certain amount of oxygen was available. Oh, he cursed out loud, why hadn't he thought of that earlier? She could be in more danger because of his foolishness. He had to go do something, but what? He couldn't call 911. How could he explain his purpose of being in the house without giving away what he was actually doing? He also knew that he could not break through the wall by himself. It was too strong, and even if he somehow managed to do it, he was afraid that he would hurt her in the process. Ah, screw it! He couldn't endanger her life. He wasn't going to let a girl die because he was so self-serving.

"Elena, listen to me, I'm going to go upstairs and call 911. Did you hear me? Do you understand?"

"Don't…leave me here"

"I have to call 911. They are the only ones who can save you Elena. Don't worry, I'm here, just upstairs. I will be back as fast as I can" He paused for a few seconds and continued, "Just do one thing for me. Okay?"

"…okay"

"Sing for me, any song you want." He hoped that his meagre efforts to keep the girl conscious would work. "Sing Mary Had a Little Lamb. I will be right back. I'm just going upstairs to call the police. Don't worry, I won't leave you."

As he walked up the stairs, he heard her soft, weak voice trying to fulfill his request. God please keep her alive, he prayed. I will be in your debt forever. After the quick call, he returned to the basement. The breathy singing had stopped.

"Elena?"

Silence

"Elena?" Terror whipped through him. "Elena?" he called again, pleading God for her to say something.

Silence