Sheepor Wolf
03-02-2004, 04:09 AM
Hello everyone,
I wrote a short gory story, be warned though "explicit content" is huge understatement.... Let me know what you think, I'm new to these sorts of things, both writing and posting.
Only problem is, it's too long for 1 thread, so i'll make two, hope it's not a problem....
Of lust and disinfectant
Slowly she opened her eyes, but the room was very bright and her eyes had to adjust. So very real it seemed, this dream, this nightmare she had. So real it seemed a memory, the room, the man, the pain… All the pain, days of agony packed together in one dream. “Mommy?” A familiar voice, her daughter was calling. How things had changed since her husband and son died last year. It seemed like yesterday, the doorbell, the police officer, the terrible news… the funeral, and trying to get on with her life. Her family was torn apart, cut in half. Her little girl, this delightful little miracle, had become her only joy and sole reason for living. To see her smile and play, to hear her giggle and babble about this amazing world of wonders she was discovering. “Mommy, I’m scared…” Poor girl, she must have had a nightmare too. She called her, wanted to tell her to come closer, but her lips only stung when she tried to talk, as if there were needles in them. “You have a visitor.” The voice! This terrible flat icy voice that stalked her in her dream, or…
He had her daughter. No, no, no, this could not be true, not her! Her mind screamed but her lips were sealed and no sound passed. “This thing you spawned might be a nice toy.” No. The sick fuck. A five-year old girl, what had she ever done to him? Her mind raced, begging, screaming, crying, soundless. Her bones shivered and despair crept over her when she heard her daughter scream. She felt dizzy when she lifted her head, which was throbbing from the beating and the penetrating smell of disinfectant and piss and shit, her own, no doubt. Focussing again, she saw her daughter, hanging naked in midair, writhing and trying to free herself of the chains that suspended her. Blood from a wound in her head mingled with tears, a smear of red around small round eyes filled with pain and fear. “Help me mommy, it hurts! I’m so scared! I’m …” She was muted by a hand in a rubber glove, another moving over her body, stroking her belly, her legs, sliding in between… and out again, bringing his finger to his mouth, sniffing and licking it. “Disgusting.” He pulled hard at her hair, jerking her head back, the poor girl screaming. From the table she watched and knew she was completely helpless. She was bound and gagged and could not even hope any more that her daughter would find relief from this torture by any other means than death. Please, let death come quickly, for her, and for me. “This one is as useless as you are. Just noisier.” He hit her in the face, breaking her lips, which were trembling as she was sobbing, interrupted by outburst of screams of pain. “I’d better release her.” O my God! My daughter will live! He’s letting her go! Thank God! Thank God! Hope and joy filled her as the man moved towards the pulleys, releasing the two chains, holding them in his hand. He turned around to face her, and for the first time a hint of a smile crossed his face. Slowly he let the chains slide from his hand, and she watched her daughter going down, and further down, and stopping… There was a third chain, around her daughters’ neck, muffling her screams as she was choking. Her eyes filled with horror, limbs flaring in frenzy, tears flowing like rivers down her cheeks and falling on the sterile floor. Her neck stretched and twisted as she kicked her little feet, frantically searching support to lift her, but knowing there would be none. Her face red and then purple as she gasped for air, for a while, until her small and soft body hung motionless.
Her daughter, dead. Everyone she loved was dead. Her lips trembled, the wires run through them cutting. She swallowed blood, the salty, coppery taste that was all she had tasted for days. Or weeks? Well, it didn’t matter anymore, nothing did. Tied down to a surgeons’ table, unable to move, unable to speak. All she could do was wait. ..... (for the rest read the next thread)
I wrote a short gory story, be warned though "explicit content" is huge understatement.... Let me know what you think, I'm new to these sorts of things, both writing and posting.
Only problem is, it's too long for 1 thread, so i'll make two, hope it's not a problem....
Of lust and disinfectant
Slowly she opened her eyes, but the room was very bright and her eyes had to adjust. So very real it seemed, this dream, this nightmare she had. So real it seemed a memory, the room, the man, the pain… All the pain, days of agony packed together in one dream. “Mommy?” A familiar voice, her daughter was calling. How things had changed since her husband and son died last year. It seemed like yesterday, the doorbell, the police officer, the terrible news… the funeral, and trying to get on with her life. Her family was torn apart, cut in half. Her little girl, this delightful little miracle, had become her only joy and sole reason for living. To see her smile and play, to hear her giggle and babble about this amazing world of wonders she was discovering. “Mommy, I’m scared…” Poor girl, she must have had a nightmare too. She called her, wanted to tell her to come closer, but her lips only stung when she tried to talk, as if there were needles in them. “You have a visitor.” The voice! This terrible flat icy voice that stalked her in her dream, or…
He had her daughter. No, no, no, this could not be true, not her! Her mind screamed but her lips were sealed and no sound passed. “This thing you spawned might be a nice toy.” No. The sick fuck. A five-year old girl, what had she ever done to him? Her mind raced, begging, screaming, crying, soundless. Her bones shivered and despair crept over her when she heard her daughter scream. She felt dizzy when she lifted her head, which was throbbing from the beating and the penetrating smell of disinfectant and piss and shit, her own, no doubt. Focussing again, she saw her daughter, hanging naked in midair, writhing and trying to free herself of the chains that suspended her. Blood from a wound in her head mingled with tears, a smear of red around small round eyes filled with pain and fear. “Help me mommy, it hurts! I’m so scared! I’m …” She was muted by a hand in a rubber glove, another moving over her body, stroking her belly, her legs, sliding in between… and out again, bringing his finger to his mouth, sniffing and licking it. “Disgusting.” He pulled hard at her hair, jerking her head back, the poor girl screaming. From the table she watched and knew she was completely helpless. She was bound and gagged and could not even hope any more that her daughter would find relief from this torture by any other means than death. Please, let death come quickly, for her, and for me. “This one is as useless as you are. Just noisier.” He hit her in the face, breaking her lips, which were trembling as she was sobbing, interrupted by outburst of screams of pain. “I’d better release her.” O my God! My daughter will live! He’s letting her go! Thank God! Thank God! Hope and joy filled her as the man moved towards the pulleys, releasing the two chains, holding them in his hand. He turned around to face her, and for the first time a hint of a smile crossed his face. Slowly he let the chains slide from his hand, and she watched her daughter going down, and further down, and stopping… There was a third chain, around her daughters’ neck, muffling her screams as she was choking. Her eyes filled with horror, limbs flaring in frenzy, tears flowing like rivers down her cheeks and falling on the sterile floor. Her neck stretched and twisted as she kicked her little feet, frantically searching support to lift her, but knowing there would be none. Her face red and then purple as she gasped for air, for a while, until her small and soft body hung motionless.
Her daughter, dead. Everyone she loved was dead. Her lips trembled, the wires run through them cutting. She swallowed blood, the salty, coppery taste that was all she had tasted for days. Or weeks? Well, it didn’t matter anymore, nothing did. Tied down to a surgeons’ table, unable to move, unable to speak. All she could do was wait. ..... (for the rest read the next thread)