Der Schädelring: Thriller (German Edition)

had heard the hinges creak.
    She blinked and hugged Chester Bear. Daddy stood in the living room. Three people without faces were with him, surrounding him. They wore black robes with hoods.
    "Come on, Douglas," said the tallest of the faceless people. "You're either all the way in , or all the way out ."
    Daddy shook his head, his face pale and sweating. "I can't do that, Lucius."
    "You drank from the cup," the hooded man said. "You made a pledge."
    "But that wasn't part of the deal," her father pleaded. He looked around wildly. It was the first time Julia had ever seen him scared. He'd always been so big, so brave, so strong—
    "You wear his ring," said the leader of the bad people. The other two closed in on Daddy, one at each arm.
    "You're crazy," Daddy said. Julia almost cried out, but fear tightened her throat and froze her tongue.
    Then Daddy looked at her bedroom door, saw the light spilling on her face through the crack. And the bad man, Lucius, saw Daddy's eyes widen. The hooded head turned in Julia's direction.
    This time she did cry out, dropping Chester Bear and feeling as if she were going to wet herself again. She cried and shook her head, screamed and screamed against the night.
    "Tell me what's happening," came a voice.
    Dr. Forrest ? What was she doing here?
    A hand gripped hers.
    And Julia tore herself from the past, remembered the earlier sessions and how they had gone this far into Julia's past, this far and more, and suddenly she didn't want to relive it again, just wanted that night to stay back there in the dim, dark forgotten.
    "You know what happened, don't you, Julia?"
    She nodded. How could she forget? Her mind had tried, had locked it away in some secret compartment.
    "Are you ready to tell me about it?"
    "No."
    "Julia. I thought we were making progress."
    "I can't remember."
    "Yes, you can. The body remembers what the mind tries to forget. The memory is in your blood, in your cells. In your heart. Listen to it."
    Remember.
    No matter how much it hurts.
    "They came and got you, didn't they?"
    "Got me?"
    "The bad people."
    "The bad people," Julia echoed.
    "And what did they do to you that night?"
    Tears rolled down her cheeks, hot on her skin. Her stomach clenched as if expecting a blow from a fist. The muscles of her arms trembled uncontrollably.
    "They . . . they got me ."
    "Yes. And you know what they did next."
    Julia shook her head, still denying. Needing to deny.
    "Let it out," Dr. Forrest said, squeezing Julia's hand so tightly it hurt. "Bring it to the light, so you can defeat it."
    It came in a rush. The scraps of images, thoughts like broken glass, a jigsaw-puzzle dream with its pieces spilled in dark water, reflections in fractured mirrors, the splintered bones of memories, fantasies built on smothering air, all clashing together like invisible armies in the night.
    Cold stone beneath her naked back. Her legs and arms fastened with rough rope. The candles around her, their orange light flickering off the gray walls and mingling with shadows that slithered like snakes. Above her, ropes dangling from rough wooden beams backed by an endless night. Singing, humming, many voices.
    She wanted Daddy. She wanted Chester Bear. Then she saw the bad people. All around her, in their robes, eyes glowing under the dark hoods. Then they were hurting her, even though she screamed and fought against the ropes.
    She struggled free, sat up, her lungs on fire. She blinked rapidly.
    The office. The impressionist art on the wall, oak paneling, the slight scent of leather and flowers. Dr. Forrest sitting beside her, beaming, her glasses fogged.
    "Yes!" said Dr. Forrest triumphantly. "You did it."
    Julia looked around, saw the clock on the wall. Her hour was almost up. Good. She didn't think she could stand another minute with the punishing past.
    "How do you feel?" Dr. Forrest asked.
    "Awful. I've got a headache. My muscles are sore." She rubbed her wrists where the imagined restraints had squeezed her.
    "The memory's in the flesh," Dr. Forrest said. "Psychogenic. The pain's locked away, too. But we can draw it out."
    "I wish it didn't have to hurt so much."
    Dr. Forrest put her face near, so close that Julia could smell the fettuccine Alfredo the woman had eaten for lunch. "You're the victim, Julia. Don't forget that. You didn't ask to be abused."
    "Except I do keep asking for it, don't I? Isn't that why I fear The Creep so much? It's like I expect bad things to happen to me."
    "Yes, but it's not