Boom

This is up a little bit late, it was meant for the end of October but I only finished it recently and decided to post it. Enjoy!

 

I have many enemies, but I never thought it would come to this. All the things that I’ve done to those people, for no reason, they hadn’t done anything to me. My many clients told me that they had done awful things. Some of my clientele lied to make me punish their targets worse, I can always tell when people are lying. If they wanted me to do something I normally don’t I charge extra. I was never caught, and for the longest time I thought my job had no consequences. How very wrong I was, it is taking its toll on me.

The man had kidnapped me while I was walking down an alley in the afternoon, the sun had started to turn a bright yellowy orange. My converse were quiet against the concrete, it had rained so there were small splashes when I stepped. The air still smelled like rain. It felt good to breathe it in, this town needed some rain. I was halfway between the brick buildings when I felt someone watching me, he wasted no time in snatching me up and pulling me back into the shadows. I tried to fight back, but my small body was no match. I heard the clink if metal and turned my head enough to see his dog tags hanging around his neck, army I thought silently. I saved my breath and didn’t bother screaming, he had his large muscular hand over the bottom portion of my face. At least he’s letting me breathe. I fought his grip as much as I could for the better part of what I assumed to be about 15 minutes, then I gave up.

“You killed my wife, I was in Afghanistan.” He said harshly in a deep and angry voice. One of my clients had mentioned a target’s husband being stationed in Afghanistan. They failed to mention that he could find me, I should have been more careful. He continued, “My newborn is missing, you’re going to tell me where he is.” Newborn? The client never mentioned a newborn, and there wasn’t a newborn in the house when I was fulfilling my client’s orders. “His mother was dead, and he was alone.” I furrowed my brow, and he must have noticed. His face contorted with anger. “That’s why you took him, and hid him somewhere. You’re a thief and a murderer!” he tightened his grip on my shoulders, making me wince in pain. He zip-tied my hands behind my back and pushed me along in front of him, forcing me to walk. “Quiet or I’ll snap your neck.” I obeyed and he walked me to his car. It was a beat up old Honda that I didn’t know the name of. He closed the door and got into the driver’s seat, I wasn’t nervous until now. This guy knew what he was doing and wasn’t afraid of the consequences. I started to sweat in fear of what might happen to me, there was no escape.

 

We drove for a while, there were no clocks so I had no way of telling time other than the sun on the road. The sunset was a bright red, and the clouds were in a beautiful swirl pattern. I enjoyed the sunset as much as possible, somehow I knew it was my last. We arrived at a metal warehouse in the middle of the desert soon after. He got me out of the car and walked me into the large metal building, the door was metal as well. The large metal structure was dark, there weren’t any visible windows from where we walked in. there was a large wall that divided the room into two, it only went to about halfway in between the walls and the other half was open to the rest of the warehouse. We walked in and behind the wall there was one small window next to a single chair with rope and a green duffle bag on the floor, the window faced into the forest that lay behind the warehouse. It was dark and a light breeze was making the tall pine trees sway gently.

He pushed me into the chair and tied me to it so I couldn’t move. “Look,” I paused as he looked over to me while unzipping the duffle. “I don’t have your son, he wasn’t even in the house when I was there… there weren’t any things for a baby either, no crib, no toys or a room for him. He was gone before I got there.” I waited for an answer but he was silent as he pulled a large object out of the bag, I couldn’t see what it was because of the immense darkness engulfing the rest of the warehouse. His phone rang and he stood up, he walked back out the door and I heard muffled speech. I couldn’t make out what he was saying and pulled on the rope that held me in my chair. It was no use, I was going to die here. He walked back in the door and I decided to try again. “Please let me help you find him, I know how to find people. Please let me go so that I can help!” I pleaded, my eyes widened as he turned to me with the mysterious object in hand. “ I know you don’t have him, my buddy got him out of there before you could get to him. But that still leaves us with one more problem. You killed my wife.”

He walked behind me and started to attach the mechanism to my chair and I heard quiet beeps. He stood up and walked to the duffle bag, he zipped it and picked it up and turned to me. “I just strapped a bomb to your chair, I made it myself. It’s a pretty nasty one, you won’t survive I made sure of that. And you should feel the shrapnel pierce your skin and organs before you die. It will go off soon so I’m going to get out of here.” Then he turned and started walking toward the door. “ Wait, please! I can help! I’ll tell you who payed me to kill her! Please let me go!” he payed no attention to me and left. I struggled against the rope for the next few minutes, it didn’t budge. I started crying, this was the end. After all this fighting I was going to die.

A few more minutes passed by and the beeping stopped… I froze, I didn’t move or breathe. The beeping was fast and then it was over. The bomb was loud, and he was right. I felt the shrapnel pierce through my skull and into my brain. Then I was scattered across the floor in a charred bloody mess, the warehouse was exploded as well. He chose his location well, nobody heard. No one drove by, in fact nobody ever found my body, or what was left of it. My story wasn’t particularly interesting, but for some it might be. I died so young. I was soon forgotten by everyone who ever knew me, and with that I didn’t exist anymore. Well, at least I went out with a bang, right?

Original Work by P.H.

Turkey Day

Thanksgiving 1997, as usual the Stevinson family was preparing dinner for later that night. Although it was not much, Mr. Stevinson had lost his job and his oldest child was still only 7 years old. Their mother had just gotten out of rehabilitation, she was an addict but she had recovered at the center for a few months before coming home to be a mother again. She hadn’t thought it would be so hard to be a housewife after all she had been though, it was so mundane compared to her old life.

The Stevinsons had decided that the children were in the way, this meal was made very special. It was just for the children, the turkey had shards of glass. The mashed potatoes were laced with ricin, a very fatal amount as well. They sat around the dining room table and called the kids downstairs, Mrs. Stevinson had been cooking for hours and Mr. Stevinson had prepared the shed for the aftermath. The children rustled and ran down the stairs with excitement, little did they know their demise would meet them very soon.

The children ran downstairs with excitement, turned to the kitchen, and sat in their places at the table for what would be their last time. Their parents smiled, Mr. Stevinson said prayer and wished them all a good meal and a safe trip. The children didn’t know what he was talking about but they assumed it was for their vacation in a few weeks, though what he really meant was a safe trip to heaven. He said dig in and they did, their parents smiled as they started to eat their last meal. The oldest was choking on the turkey with the shards of glass slicing his throat. The youngest was turning blue and going into convulsions on the floor. Their parents smiled at each other and said their goodbyes to the kids, and then they were gone.

Nobody really knows what happened to the Stevinson children, some say their parents cooked and ate them before fleeing the state and starting a new life, others say their father chopped them up and threw the chunks in the river. The bodies were never found, but their vengeful spirits walk the globe in search of revenge. No matter how far they run, they will be found and killed by the children they murdered. Maybe they already were. And after they get revenge, who knows who will be next.

Original work by P.H.

Monster in my Mind

It only comes out at the worst times, it has many different forms. Every last one of them terrifying. It knows all of your darkest secrets. Nothing is sacred, every vile thing it can do to you is fair game. The paranoia, the anxiety, the depressing truth of the world is all revealed by this creature. It claws at your soul, shoots your hopes down with every bit of ammunition it can muster. You’re left helpless in the demonic tornado of hate.

You beg it to stop and it just laughs in your face. It only exists for one specific purpose: to ruin you. It spends every second tearing at your brain, slicing it up and mixing everything around. It jumbles your memories, makes you confused, and scared. Nothing you can do will stop it. 

The darkness closes in slowly, day by day it inches its way in. Digging deep into your soul, until every last speck of light is gone. The light at the end of the tunnel gets dimmer, and eventually its gone. Anything you try is useless and you feel distant, like you’re outside of yourself. Then that’s the end. Everything fades away until there is none of you left for it to destroy. It feeds off of you, and when it dies… you die with it.

Save Her.

I found her rotten corpse alone, beaten, and bruised. Just lying there. She was so cold and lifeless in life, she was no different in death. I could have saved her. I should have saved her. What could a mortal have done about them? Nothing, that's what. They are just too powerful. I cradled her empty vessel in my arms, her skin soft. I wept into her hair. My tears fell onto her and disappeared.

That beautiful girl that I once knew was dead. She was gone forever, I'd never see her laugh or smile. She will never weep to me and whisper little things to me. I'll never feel her warm embrace. She will be buried, or cremated. Unreachable for the rest of eternity. I cried until I couldn't anymore but it was no use. It was too late... I was gone.

I couldn't take it anymore, all that pain, all that sorrow. I lost everything. The abuse and bullying pushed me over the edge. I grabbed that ugly old pistol and pressed it to my temple. The click of the barrel turning gave me comfort. I pulled the trigger and it went dark.

 It was cold, and I couldn't see anything but dark. The light came in slow, but it was the brightest light I had ever seen. They told me it isn't worth it, they said life is a gift. They told me to live, it was too late.

 Then, I was home. I ran upstairs to my room, but my footsteps made no noise. I ran straight through my father as he was walking through the hall. He didn't see me. I screamed at him and begun crying, he didn't hear me. I ran to my room and saw her, lying there. It was... Me. But it wasn't me. Not anymore. She was the old me. The one who lived her life in the dark, she doomed herself to spend eternity in the dark as well. I could have saved her. I could have saved..... Myself. 

Original work by P.H.

The end

They picked up the large knives one by one, then turned to face me lying there almost unconscious. They had beaten me for weeks now and I don't remember anything past that. Small pieces of memories come back to me but are soon beaten out again by them and their metal rods. This was the end. They were standing over me, their smiles stretched from ear to ear. Their faces horribly ugly and mangled beyond recognition. They lifted their knives at an agonizingly slow pace. 

They were all I knew. The first thing I remember was that they had pinned me down and "treated" me with electro-shock therapy. I don't know why. I'm not crazy... At least I don't think. I don't remember. I think that they did it before, many times. They had zapped the memories out of my head in a painful surge of electricity.

My breathing increased as their hands stopped, they were about to use the knives for something horrible. They looked to their leader who was watching from an odd looking throne across the room. She nodded and their grins widened more, some of their cheeks tore open and dripped blood onto my face and arms. They looked at me and in an uncomfortably synchronized motion sliced away at my skin. It hurt. All of those rusty knives plunging into my soft, tender flesh. 

I wanted to scream. More than anything I wanted to. But I couldn't. They had just zapped my mind away before bringing me here. The synapses in my brain were still trying to connect but just couldn't do it. I was helpless, scared, and alone. The pain was overwhelming and I passed out. I dreamt of the electric pulses coursing through my veins. Then nothing. 

There was nothing. The world was empty, so empty it felt like the darkness would swallow me whole. Soon after, it did. I disappeared into the darkness. After all this fighting, this was the end. This was what my life chalked up to. The last thing, my last thought was their hideous faces looking at me. Disgusting and disfigured. 

Original work by P.H.

Control

Some people say everything in life happens because somebody made it happen, others say everything just happens by chance. I'm here to tell you that the only reason anything happens is because of what resides just out of sight. They control all. They watch and wait, sometimes forever for anything small. Anything they can do to make you miserable. Their purpose is to push you to the edge and make you either go insane, or kill yourself to avoid it. If you take it upon yourself to end your suffering, you become one of them. It's true what they say, you either die young, or live long enough to become as evil as them.

Original work by P.H.

The Dark

The dark.

You may not fear the dark, thinking that there isn’t anything there. If that is you, enjoy your blissful ignorance and stop reading now. If you fear the dark and you spend many nights with the lights on, let this be a warning to you. I have seen the beings behind the curtain of darkness, and they are extremely jeopardous. If you are ever misfortunate enough to cross paths with them, never look into their eyes. The eyes are the windows into the soul. They will see your most amazing dreams, and your worst nightmares. They will use this to their advantage, and they will show no mercy no matter how good or pure of a person you are. 

Those beings are from beyond the veil of our existence. They have talked with our ancestors and learned our weaknesses, and our strengths. They know the secrets of unlocking the human brain and all of its deepest secrets, they know how to tear us apart from the inside. They can’t feel remorse, or sadness, nor happiness. They are numb. They will make the worst physical pain you’ve ever felt seem like nothing, and your best memory feel like it never happened. They will ruin even the deepest parts of your mind that you never even knew existed, everything you ever knew will be erased and in its place will be complete hell. 

Nothing you have ever experienced will compare to anything they will do to you. First they will take over your mind, making you loathe every second of your existence. Making you wish that you were dead, racking your brain with excruciatingly painful thoughts. Creating for you, your own personal hell. Right when  you think you have nothing left for them to take, they will start to torture you. They will start by ripping your skin off in patches. Then using their long, dirty nails along the bleeding, and exposed flesh. Digging them into the bloody and bare strings of muscle that have been uncovered. 

After you have no skin left to tear, they will rip each limb apart from the joints. Segment by segment. They will do this as slowly as possible so that the pain is unbearable. You will be unable to lose consciousness because they will continue to have a grip on your mind, making you feel everything amplified more than ever. They will pin you to a table with large skewers, like a frog that’s being dissected. A large mechanism drops from the ceiling and a laser shoots out and slices open your abdomen, leaving your internal organs exposed.

They will use their long claws to pick through them and puncture them, sending strange fluids all over you and the table. Over and over again they will do this. More pain flooding through your system each time. After a while your vocal chords will give out and your screams will stop, but the pain only gets worse. You are helpless in their grasps, unable to move or speak. Alone in your pain. Your mind will stop and the only thing you are is pain. 

They will then drop you back in your house. Where they found you and abducted you. Your body will be completely restored as if nothing happened. They know that nobody will believe you. Who will believe that you were stolen by the creatures in the dark, and dissected like a middle school science project? You will suffer in silence by yourself, not a friend in the world. You will be ostracized by everyone, put in a mental hospital and left to rot. And they will watch you and love every minute of it. 

That’s where your story will end. You will be alone, enduring the hell of your mind. Every time you see the dark, you see them. Laughing at your pain, while you’re left crying. Fear the dark, it is the worst thing that can get you. It’s also the most inescapable. Don’t get caught by the dark, you will never truly escape.

Original work by P.H.

Scratches

Scratches

Hello, my name is Mikha. I’m going to tell you about the most horrifying experience of my life, but be warned: this could happen to you too. I take no responsibility for anything that might happen to you. The only reason I am even telling this story, despite me dreading saying these words out loud, is to maybe save somebody. Somebody else to live through what I’ve been through, though I doubt they’ll want to. Either way, here we go.

A while ago I noticed a small scratch on my arm; I thought nothing of it because it hadn’t even broken the skin. I thought that maybe I had scratched myself with my fingernail or something. I had recently started taking sleeping pills to help with my insomnia, and one of the side effects was restless sleeping. I brushed the thought that maybe it was something else out of my head quickly and ignored the sinking feeling washing over me. That was a mistake. I wish I had realized what was going on, maybe to figure out how to prevent it, or stop it, anything. But how could I have known that what was happening was something much more ominous than a scratch on my arm? There was no warning, nothing to prepare me for what was to happen to me.

 Slowly the scratches progressively got larger and deeper, all over my body. Every week a new cut was somewhere on my body. Whenever I visited with my friends they told me they were worried, and asked if I had purposely cut myself. I was taken aback by these accusations and quickly replied no, explaining that they mysteriously appeared while I was sleeping. Some of my friends believed me and were scared for me; others didn’t and told me I needed to talk to someone. I thought that maybe it was my sleeping pills causing all of this, seeing as I was still taking them and kept ignoring them because my doctor had said it was perfectly normal to accidentally scratch myself in my sleep. I wasn’t going to stop taking the pills; this was the most sleep I had gotten since before I can remember. A few tiny scratches weren’t going to stop me from feeling good and normal again.

About eight months had passed and the scratches were so deep that they left permanent scars, large and ugly scars. My prescription for the sleeping medication was running out, and I never thought I would be happy to have my insomnia back. I would only take a pill when I had something very important the next day so that I could ration them. At first I had been taking them 2-3 times a week, and then slowly I was taking them less and less until I was only taking them once a week. The scratches would only be there the morning after I had taken the medication; the scratches were larger though than when I had been taking them more. I assumed that my body was just reacting stronger to them since I had gotten used to them and was now almost not taking them at all. I took less and less of them until I had run out. This is where I wish the story had ended.

It had been a week since I had stopped taking them and the scratches had stopped. I was relieved to find them all gone. Unfortunately my insomnia was back, and worse than I had remembered. Maybe going almost a year without it had made me forget just how terrible it was. I had gotten another prescription for medication that was not as strong as the one I had gotten before, the pills were the same shape as the ones I had gotten before but ovals were a common shape for pills so I thought nothing of it. I took the pills the same as the others, had a sip of water with them and went to bed. I fell asleep slightly slower than the last ones had made me, but at least I was sleeping. Or so I thought.

I woke up in the middle of the night to a dull pain on my ribs, it was strange. This sensation was like someone was… sucking my blood through the cut. It couldn’t be though; there were no lips or weight on me. The moonlight was the only light I had to see what was going on. I felt petrified, I didn’t want to move. At that moment I knew I would regret investigating what was happening. I slowly looked down towards my stomach only to find a tall slender figure bending over me. This wasn’t a person, it wasn’t even alive. It wasn’t even from this universe. This creature was rotting, its flesh barely hanging onto its old brittle bones. Its jaw was only attached to one side of its disgusting face. That was the worst part. It wasn’t even a face. Its head had some horribly disfigured and mutilated bunch of humanlike mutant features attached where its face would be. It was using its tongue to slurp the blood out of the cut on my torso. I wanted to stop it but I couldn’t move. 

I was frozen with fear. Apparently the cut wasn’t deep enough to supply the amount of blood that it wanted so it took its long, yellowed, rotting fingernail and dug it in. I flinched and let out a quiet whimper at the pain. I wasn’t quiet enough. The creature noticed and tilted its head towards me as if it were looking at me, it moved its head closer to my face and plunged its fingernails under my ribs and punctured several internal organs. It moved its hand down and kept slicing away at my skin until all that was left were shredded pieced of red flesh. I laid there until noon the next day in agony; I was supposed to go to lunch with a friend during my break at work. When I didn’t show up and wouldn’t answer her calls she headed over. We were good friends so she knew where the key to my house was and let herself in, she found me. When she saw me she screamed, she thought I was dead. No, I only wished I was. I hoarsely croaked out “ Heeellllp mmeee…” and attempted to turn my head towards her; she yelled and told me to lie still as she dialed 911.

The police and people at the hospital tried to get me to explain what had happened, I wouldn’t say a word. I simply told them I didn’t know. But that was the problem, I couldn’t forget no matter how hard I tried. The gut wrenching image of that thing still etched into my mind. Now, every night I’m thankful that I have insomnia. I only sleep during the day when I‘m not alone, fearing what that thing will do to me if it finds me again. I knew that wasn’t even close to the worst it could do, and I didn’t want to find out what it could really do. So that’s it, my story. I just needed somebody to know before I’m gone. I can’t take it anymore and I’m sorry. Goodbye…

Original work by P.H.

Chemical Prisoner

Chemical prisoner

I sat in my chair in the corner of the room; it was a cold shiny metal chair. My hands and forehead were restrained even though they didn’t need to be. I had been walking home from school about a week ago when someone drugged and kidnapped me, and over the past week he had told me that what he was doing was for research. My body had been filled with so many strange new drugs my perception of reality had drastically changed, everything looked different now. I could sense when people were near, I could hear things nobody else could. My senses were heightened, and my brain was working much faster than it would.

I don’t know what the name of this drug he has been injecting me with is or what it is, but it’s almost a miracle. I say almost because… ever since my senses have been increasing, I am becoming more and more paralyzed. I don’t know why he even bothers restraining me anymore; my muscles don’t work at this point. I can’t scream, weep, or even eat by myself. I was basically a vegetable, but I could feel everything around me. It was torture. The man thought I had died at first, but I was still breathing. He had me hooked up to a brain wave monitoring machine so that he knew it was working.

“What a horrible side effect…” he taunted. I tried to turn my head to look at him but I was like a statue, cold, stone… barely even human. “My drug would have been perfect if it didn’t paralyze weak patients like you.” I felt a tear slip down my cheek; it was the only tear I had been able to shed. “This is why we do experiments.” All I could think about was standing up and flipping his stupid tray off of the small table to my right. It suddenly fell off the table scattering syringes and glass everywhere, this must have startled the man because he jumped and whipped around to look at what had caused all of the commotion.

 He was silent as he stared at the tray and instruments on the ground. “Impossible…” he whispered. He looked at me and started typing something into the computer that was monitoring my brain activity, I heard his typing slow down as he silently uttered a swear word to himself. His eyes turned to the glass on the ground and he picked up the tray. He put it back on the table but didn’t bother cleaning up everything. He looked at me and smiled, he was happy? He turned and ran up the stairs quickly and slammed the door behind him. He had an idea and I knew I wasn’t going to like it.

Now that I could use telekinesis to move things that’s the only thing I did, I practiced moving the tray, the glass, the table, anything I could get to. At first I could only move things slightly, without any precision to it at all. I started practicing moving things every day. Then I could move them farther and farther, I still wasn’t very accurate though. It took a few weeks before I could throw the tray into the wall on the opposite side of the room, then I started working on holding things in the air. Things got easier and easier seeing as the man was still dosing me with his “super drug”. Then I worked on moving things certain directions, and turning things in the air. 

I had mastered every aspect of this and the man had stopped giving me the drugs a week ago, to see what would happen. Nothing had changed except for the blackouts, every once in awhile it would feel like I was sleeping. When I woke up the room was in shambles, the computer was broken and I was out of my chair. But I soon found that after the blackouts I could move my fingers again. After months of being unable to move, I could tap on the arm of my cold metal chair. I kept moving my fingers and ran them along the smooth cool metal of my chair; I never thought I would appreciate having feeling in my fingers as much as I did.

I could levitate my chair and move myself around the room; I did this all day for the next few weeks while I came up with my plan. And I could now move most of my upper body, but I’m afraid my legs were completely useless. I would never walk again. My brain grew more and more with each day, my powers were getting stronger and I was getting smarter as well. I couldn’t wait to bust out of here, now that I look back on it I don’t know what was holding me back. Revenge maybe…

The man walked into the room, I held still as I watched him. He greeted me with a nod. I had kept my powers a secret from him, he was oblivious. He started humming some tune that I didn’t recognize, then he started talking to me I ignored him as I used my powers to untie my wrists from the chair, he had his back to me. I wanted to see his face, the pain in his eyes when I murdered him. I picked him up and turned his body towards me, he was surprises that I was making him levitate. “What is happening!?” I looked at him with an evil grin on my face. It was time to get even. “Well,” I started, “I wasn’t sure how this would go… I remembered what you said to me and thought ‘Well that’s what experiments are for, right?’ thanks for the great advice.” I squeezed his body harder and harder, he screamed in pain and begged for mercy. I had broken a few bones and heard each one snap when I stopped.” Do you remember when I begged like this? Begged you to stop the experiments when I could feel my muscles slowly stop working until all that was left was my brain and you continued? I remember every damn day you tortured me. And you smiled the whole time. I-“he cut me off, “The experiments saved you, look at you now! Don’t I deserve some mercy? I knew the whole time that it was making you better!” I looked at him angrily. “Don’t interrupt me, you worthless insect.” I squeezed him harder making him cough up blood, “Those experiments ruined me, and I will never walk again. I can never go back home to tell my mother I’m alright. Nobody will understand what’s happened.” I broke both of his legs and smiled when I heard his screams. “Goodbye, insect, you deserve every bit of pain you’re feeling. I’m glad I got to be the one to cause it.” With that I squeezed one last time making his brains explode out of his head.

I levitated my chair up the stairs; I took a deep breath as I went through his house to the front door. I opened it and smiled as I soaked in the sunlight, it’s been so long since I’ve been outside to breathe in the air and look at the sky. Now, the world is all mine. With my new powers I will rule this world, and I will kill anyone who dares get in my way. My eyes went dark and a malicious grin spread across my face, I would kill anyone who didn’t obey me. There would be monuments made of me and nobody would stop me.

Original work by P.H.

Sleep

Sleep.
(Trigger warning)

There’s no way that I’m sorry for what I did. On that lonely, cold night, the lights flickering over me. So much blood… blood everywhere…. Nobody can help me now. I just need to… sleep….

She was sleeping when I took out the syringe and gently injected her with some simple sedatives that I swiped from the local clinic. After I injected this to insure her sleep would continue I stole her from her bed. Her parents were sleeping and I had done my research, I easily slipped in and out of the house without being noticed by anyone. I placed her in the back of my car lying down but buckled in as to not draw any attention from passing citizens who might be suspicious.

 After about an hour long drive I pulled the car into my cabin, it was nice, secluded far from any cities, and people. I got out and grabbed her and brought her into the house. I put her down on the couch before unlocking the basement door; I picked her up again and carried her down the long dark staircase. I carefully put her small body over my shoulder and unlocked the second door; this door was much different from the first. It was a large thick door made of cold hard steel; I found it online for sale. This door was an old vintage door from a bomb shelter a few decades ago, and although it was old it was in almost perfect condition. I modified it to fit onto the sound proof room I had made below the basement. I opened the door into the large concrete room I had made carefully, making sure it didn’t close and lock itself behind me. I ducked and stepped in, the door was large but I’m a tall burly man so I have to slouch a little to enter. I walked to the bed in the middle of the room and placed her down on it on top of the covers. I had already checked to make sure the video cameras worked earlier so I made my way upstairs to my bedroom and turned on my computer.

 The picture was bright in the dark room, I had the lights off and curtains drawn so it was pitch black except for the bright monitor. It took her about 45 minutes to wake up, for a while I thought that I had injected her with too much of the sedative but she eventually woke up. I watched her on the screen, at first she was calm. She didn’t seem to notice that she wasn’t at home in her bed. After she was less groggy, and more alert she started to panic. She jumped out of her bed and started looking around the room frantically for an exit. Obviously there wasn’t one, I had looked over every inch of that cell and my design was flawless. After about an hour of frantically running around and moving furniture around she started hitting the walls. She punched, and clawed until her hands were bleeding all over the walls. She started hitting the large steel door and pulled at the edges with her small fingers.

I stepped away from the computer and headed to the kitchen, and looked in the full fridge and grabbed some lunch meat, lettuce, bread, and condiments. I made a sandwich and got a monster energy drink from the fridge. Then I placed the sandwich on a nice clean white plate as I thought about what I was going to do. I sat at the kitchen table and enjoyed my meal as I mentally prepared for what was to come.  

After I had finished my food and put the dish in the sink and the empty can in the trash. I went back over to the computer and observed the girl, she was in the corner crying. She would look up every few seconds as if checking for something, or maybe someone. But there was nobody to save her now. She belongs to me, I got her and she will never leave me alive. I went to the kitchen once again and went to the drawer just right of the sink, inside the drawer was an assortment of knives and scalpels that I would use to torture and kill her. I picked up three knives and two scalpels and put them in the special case that I had made. I rolled it up and then went back to my room and opened the computer desk, there were more syringes full of sedatives. I put the syringe in the case with my knives. Then I walked to the basement and carefully opened the door into the cold concrete room. She looked me straight in the eye and just stared as I mostly closed the door behind me, not letting it shut and get us both locked in. I turned around and blocked her view of the case as I took out the syringe. She was silent, I assumed it was because a 6’ 5” man just walked in the room and was also dead silent as he went to work.

 I hid the syringe behind my back as I walked towards her. She sunk back into the corner more than she already had when I walked in. There was no way around me and I grabbed her arm and injected her with only a quarter of the contents, as to not make her sleep… only make her weak. I put her on the bed and took the rope from my pocket then restrained her arms, legs, and torso. She was slightly wriggling around, not enough to actually do anything because of the sedative I had given her. I picked up the case that had my instruments in it and took out one of my scalpels, her eyes widened as I turned towards her with the blade glinting in the light. I smiled at her reaction which made the fear in her eyes grow more. 

I pulled her shirt off of her stomach and quickly placed the blade to her skin, she whimpered and shook from its cold touch. Then I pressed down harder and started to cut , she yelped and kept making more noise until I stopped. This would not do, in order for me to do this properly she would have to settle down. I grabbed the syringe again and injected her with a little bit more and waited for its effects to kick in. I leant down and whispered in her ear, “sleep…”

I had finished the procedure and taken out one of her kidneys, it was smaller than I thought it would be. But it would have to do. I made my way upstairs and got my knife out of the butcher’s block and thin sliced the small fleshy mass and marinated it in some steak marinade, then I cooked it on my skillet. I seasoned it with a bit of steak seasoning and put it in the bag of lunch meat that I had previously been keeping in my fridge. I couldn’t wait to eat it later.

 I went back to the monitor to find her still sleeping on the dirty mattress with blood all over it. ‘She bled a lot’ I thought to myself silently, I pushed that thought to the back of my head and looked back at the monitor. I had left her restrained so that she wouldn’t injure herself or rupture her wound. I had stitched her stomach back up before I had cooked her kidney. I took a sip of my energy drink it was only a few more minutes before she woke up and started screaming because of the stitches… or maybe it was the pain. I opened my desk drawer and it quietly squeaked open. I took out another syringe labeled “Morphine” and walked downstairs once again. 

I got to the basement and grabbed some paper towels and rubbing alcohol and stepped into the small room. She screamed again when she saw me. The terror grew in her small bloodshot eyes, if it was even possible for her to feel more fear than she already was. I walked over to the bed and she pulled as hard as she could on her restraints to get away from me, they didn’t budge. I knew how to tie a knot that only I could untie, she was out of luck. She kept screaming and I soon got very annoyed. I took out the syringe of morphine and held it up to my face as I examined it closely. I flicked the barrel to get out any air bubbles and then turned to her. She was silent now just staring into me intensely, “ You know… I would kill you right here and now if I didn’t need you alive. You’re lucky little girl.” I grinned and evil toothy smile and she screamed again loudly. I plunged the needle into her arm and squeezed the morphine into her. She kept screaming for another two minutes until it started to fade to quiet, I was impressed with her lung capacity. I would take those next if they weren’t necessary for keeping her alive. 

I took the rubbing alcohol and drenched the paper towels with it and cleaned her stitches out to prevent infection. The rubbing alcohol got most of the dried blood off too, I got some water and wiped the rest of her body clean, she had sweat and dirt packed onto most of her body. She looked much better. I wet another paper towel and wiped off her face and neck, there. She looked like nothing had ever happened.

It was a few hours later and she had woken up, she stopped screaming a while ago and she was begging me to take off the ropes. Of course I declined, what if she ripped out her stitches? What if she ruptured the wound? I couldn’t let her free of the ropes, they were protecting her. She begged and begged until I gave in. I walked down the stairs and opened the door, “ If I take off the ropes will you rip out you stitches, or do anything to hurt yourself?” “No…” she answered meekly. I agreed to take them off and slowly untied each arm and leg. 

She scrambled to her feet on the floor across the bed form me. I was folding the ropes and putting them in my pocket when I heard her small damp feet slapping across the concrete floor, I thought nothing of it and calmly turned my head in the direction of the noise only to see the large door closing behind her small body. I froze for a second before I jumped up and ran to the door, I pushed against it with all of my strength and weight… it didn’t budge. I fell to the ground as tears fell down my cheeks. This was the end. I got up and sat back at the bed and something poked me through the top of my back pocket. I touched the sharp side carefully and cut my finger on it. I had my scalpel. I went to the door and put it into the lock but the inside of the door was rusted out and it crumbled like sand. There was no way out. I had no food, no water, and no escape.

That brings me to now. It’s been about a week, maybe more. I’m not proud to say I have been living off of my own bodily fluids. It’s so cold in here. My fists are bloody from pounding on the door trying to escape, my fingers are torn open from trying to pick the lock on that stupid door. I am done. I take the scalpel from the mattress and look at it. This is it. I put the scalpel on my wrist and slice up my arm, deep enough to make the blood gush from my arm . I repeat this with the other arm. I rest my head against the cold wall behind me, looking up at the flickering lights. Then I look back down at my arms… its finally almost over. My legs were covered, so was my shirt. It had started pooling around me, it was starting to go dark. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I can barely open them again, I’m losing consciousness. My eyes are barely open, my strength leaving me… So much blood… blood everywhere…. Nobody can help me now. I just need to… sleep….

Original work by P.H.