I had another night terror that night, so I came downstairs for a glass of water. It was early, I could hear birds chirping outside. The sun was about to rise.
I lived alone, I liked it that way. I wasn’t ready for kids, I wasn’t ready for a relationship, I wanted to focus on my career and not much else. Anyway, I got the water, listened to the birds for a while, and started heading back upstairs.
My dog started whimpering, which wasn’t like him. If there was somebody outside, he’d bark and wake me up and for a full-grown pit bull to whine like a puppy at something, it meant that he was either in pain or he was scared of something. I couldn’t see into the living room from the stairs since they were stationed on the far wall of the kitchen, so I climbed back down. I decided to pick up one of his toys in the kitchen and head out into the living room. He was hunched over in the corner, trying to make his way behind the couch like he used to when I’d catch him peeing on the rug.
“What’s the matter, Daryl?” I asked him.
He kept whimpering. I squeaked the toy, but it didn’t seem to phase him. I looked in his eyes and saw sheer terror there.
“What is it?” I asked, a little more panicked.
I looked at his eyes again and followed them out towards the darkness of the living room. Nothing was there.
“Hey, it’s okay, Daryl,” I said walking towards him.
I reached my hand out to pet him to comfort me, but he snarled and tore into my arm. I had to pry him off to get him to let go. When he did, he ran into the kitchen and up the stairs. My arm was hot and stung. I examined the fresh wounds and determined that I should probably clean my arm up and go to the hospital to get stitches. So I stood up, hurried over to the sink and turned on the warm water and ran my arm underneath the stream. I flinched as the sudden burst of intense pain ringed out from the wounds as the water crashed against them.
After I finished cleaning the wound I grabbed a towel from the rack beside the sink and wrapped my arm tightly. I grabbed my keys from the counter and turned around.
What happened next was a blur. I remember running upstairs and slamming the door behind me, grabbing my phone and calling the police. There was no signal so I hid into the closet.
That crooked face with its jagged teeth, smiling at me. It was deformed, unnatural.
The door was locked, it always is and the alarm didn’t go off. How the fuck did somebody get into my house?
“I have such sights to show you.” a voice said beside me.
I had to work a later shift at the funeral home. A lot of deaths due to a recent pandemic and I had to prep them for their showings. The week was booked, the business was booming, but I was stressed. I doubt my grandfather ever had to deal with this many corpses at once. He’d probably pawn them off on somebody else, but I can’t do that in today’s economical climate. I’m barely keeping my head above water due to all of these different loans I’ve had to take out for this place and the brand new car my wife wanted to pick up. Shit, I spend more time here than I do at home anymore, but that’s okay because when all of this is over, I’ll have made enough to pay back all my loans and then some. I’m starting to feel really tired though, so I’d better finish up here.
The embalming process really is a pain in the ass. It takes too long, in my opinion. I think after all of this is said and done, I’m going to start looking around for some extra help because I’m getting older and slower and I can’t do all of the planning and embalming by myself anymore.
The machine finishes the procedure and I remove the device from Mrs. Hemsworth, then wheel her back into the fridge area. I hate having bodies just lying all over the place like a butcher shop, but I have no choice. The freezers are all full. All I can do is turn the AC up to full blast and hope for the best.
Most of them here are being shown over the next couple of days anyway, so I don’t need to worry about them going bad. I think tomorrow I’ll rent one of those freezer trucks from somewhere because this just feels wrong. If somebody from the city came in here and saw this, I’d be shut down for sure.
My surgical tool tray spills onto the floor behind me and the door is swaying back and forth. What the fuck? I look around the room and notice one of the gurneys are empty. That’s it! I’m done! I don’t give a fuck what caused a stiff to get up and walk off like that, but I’m not staying here. I’m leaving and I’m burning this fucking place to the ground.
I sprint out of the morgue and up a set of stairs, tripping over a body bag sprawled out over the top of the stairs. No, no, no, no! Fuck this shit! I stand to my feet and prepare to sprint for the front door, but notice a figure, far too skinny to be living, staring at me from down the hall. I run and hide in the dark showroom and strip off my bright blue medical PPE and cower behind the podium where priests would give their sermon.
The other set of doors opened and I hear rapid shuffling going on above me. I want to move, I want to run for the doors, but I’m too scared. I can’t do it.
The shuffling ceases almost immediately. After a while, I stand to my feet and see that the room is empty. I go to the door and force it open.
“Am I dead?” the stick figure woman said to me.
Her head sat on top of a skinny, skeletal frame littered with old, rotting guts.
Before I could answer, she starts wobbling towards me.
This story was first published in 203: a Short Story Collection. I like to look back at my work in this collection to see how far I’ve come as an author. Sure, extreme violence is still there, but it’s evolved into a more presentable manner. This story is a perfect definition of who I was as an author during that time. For the longest time, I couldn’t find the words to describe my work. That was when I discovered the Splatterpunk subgenre of horror and, to this day, I wear that title like a badge of honor. Still, I wanted to be gruesome and I wanted to shock, but at the same time make the brutality into some kind of beautiful imagery.
WARNING: So, with that in mind, be warned that this story contains extremely graphic and sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.
Audrey was a shy girl growing up, and a good girl. She always had perfect grades, the truest friends, the best home life, and even the ideal relationship with no sex before marriage and only the smallest pecks to satisfy physical desires. Until one day when she decided that life was growing boring, so she dumped her boyfriend, drove her friends away, fought with her parents, and gave it up to the first man to take a swing. Audrey decided that she liked that life and she liked it a lot. Well, one day, graduation came and she realized she was finally free of it all. She hadn’t cared that there was nobody to congratulate her except for her pregnant friend who had dropped out.
She decided she would move out as soon as she had saved enough money and pursue a future in modeling. I mean, all the guys I’ve slept with told me I had a great body, she’d think, maybe I can start making some money off of this? And so she started out on the beaten bath of a model, posing for anybody with a camera in almost whatever way she was told to. In the process, she slept with a total of fifteen different guys and ingested double the amount of her four-foot-four physique in various drugs and alcohol. After every ‘shoot,’ she was told she just didn’t have what it took to be a model and blamed it on her short size.
For a little while, after giving up the model dream for a bit, she started respecting herself again and adopted a few different morals from her past, but that all went in the toilet when she got a call to do her first paid photoshoot for an aspiring photographer. She had a friend drive her there and on the way, all she could talk about was the fact that she had finally made it. She was going to start living her dreams, attending big parties, dating and dumping A-list celebrities, tasting the finest wines, and so much more.
They arrived at their destination after about ten minutes and she found that the shooting location was in a house, and not the nicest one. She asked her friend to come in with her and make her feel less frightened, and so her friend did.
Audrey knocked on the front door and after a minute, a tall man answered and greeted her, happy as hell to see his new model.
The man was about five-foot-eleven, had a short goatee, wore khaki shorts, a Detroit Tigers t-shirt, and a pair of Jordans. He held an impressive tan too, she noticed.
So the handsome man invited them in and told them to come to the back bedroom, where she expected to see a large blank canvas and thousands of dollars worth of camera equipment and staff. She was shocked to find only a bed, a tri-pod, and a two hundred dollar camcorder pointing in the direction of the bed.
“What the fuck is this?” she asked.
“Look, I know it isn’t anything flashy,” he said, “but it’s the best I’ve got right now. I’m saving up a bit more money so that I can move down to Colorado. I’ll pay you good, baby. Don’t worry.”
“Fuck you. Hali, let’s get out of here.”
“You said you wanted to be a model, right? Well, there’s a lot of business in sex. I’ll pay you four hundred a scene. I’ll double it if you convince your friend to join us.”
“Fuck you,” she said again, storming out the front door.
They got to the car and sat down. Audrey told Hali to start it, but Hali paused and said,
“You know, he’s right. It’s a lot of money and he isn’t a bad looking guy. You’re bi, I’m bi, we could make this work, you know. Besides, it’s only once or twice.”
After a few minutes of debating, Audrey finally agreed and the two got out of the car and knocked on the door again. The man answered, smiled, and licked his lips.
He filmed them licking each other’s tongues around the tip of his penis and trading tastes of his erection. The still nameless man was in ecstasy. His sexual fantasy had finally been accomplished, he had two beautiful women in his bed pleasuring him. The man couldn’t hold back once Audrey’s lips wrapped around his erection and he blew his entire climax into her mouth. Hali cheered her on as she choked on the salty slime that worked its way down her throat.
She lifted up and said,
“Are we done? I want my money now.”
“We’re not done yet,” the man said. “I want another scene, then I’ll pay you in full.”
“It doesn’t work that way, asshole.”
“Then don’t get paid. I’m more than happy to walk away with a free blowjob and a porno.”
She sneered at him and hocked his semen out of her throat and onto the floor. She needed the money a lot. She decided to do the next scene for him.
He made Hali lay on her back and forced Audrey to lay on top of her. He switched between the two until he felt them cum on him. Then he took a liking to Audrey, thinking about how nice her mouth felt around his throbbing cock, and decided to thrust harder and harder into her until he came deep inside of her womb. He held his throbbing erection inside of her for moment before slowly pulling out and letting whatever remained drip onto Hali’s pelvic bone.
Audrey was in shock. Why hadn’t he pulled out? More importantly, why hadn’t she made him put on a condom? She couldn’t get off of Hali. She focused on a single flower that was on the sheet below them. She was lost in her world, which shattered completely as she felt this strange man’s fluids seep out of her and Hali told her to get up.
“What the fuck, man?” Hali cried. “What if she gets fucking pregnant?”
“Not my problem, bitch!”
“You goddamn asshole!” Hali said as she began to attack him.
Suddenly, the nameless man drew a gun on both of them, told them to get dressed and get the fuck out. So they left. No cash and no dignity, Audrey gave up all there was to give up. Hope was rotted and her dreams were all dismembered.
Of course, Hali bought her a Plan-B pill, but all that did was rot a few of her eggs. It didn’t grow her dignity and hope back. Audrey wasn’t welcomed back to her parent’s house after word reached them of their daughter being in a porn movie, so she stayed with Hali and her two sons for the next year or so.
In that year, Audrey sold herself to many men just to save up enough money to rent a one-bedroom apartment on some outskirt of Detroit where she grew hungry, hungry for a reason to live as well as literally. She began to sell herself even cheaper than before to rake in more customers. She got herself a pimp who took her in and kept her numb on crack and heroine for about three months until he was shot by some unknown gangbanger. Once again, she roamed the streets searching for some kind of purpose.
One night, after finishing up one of her clients, she took to a gas station bathroom and examined herself in the mirror. She saw a glint of beauty beneath the layers of make-up and had the realization of what she might be able to do with herself, to get her back on the modeling grid somehow. It wasn’t a clean route, but her whole life since senior year wasn’t a clean route. I still have a body, I still have a bit of youth, and I can still fuck like a machine, she thought.
“I’ll become a porn star,” she mumbled to her reflection.
So she set out and took a bus from Detroit to Vancouver, with only two hundred dollars in her pocket.
The first thing Audrey did when she got off the bus was go to a Wal-Mart, still dressed in her tight, short clothes, and purchas all sorts of dark, decent quality make-up, hair spray, shampoo, perfume, and most importantly, condoms. Even as soon as she checked out at the register, one of the cart pushers approached her. A chubby, hairy man, he asked her, in a very nasal and squeaky voice, if she was single.
“Three hundred for anything other than the actual thing, and I’ll convince you that I am.”
“Okay,” was all he could manage,
“Are you getting off soon?”
“Uh, no, I’m not off for another four hours.”
“That’s okay. I have an idea.”
She took him by the hand and led him to a patch of shrubs, pulled down his pants, and began to suck on his hairy, sweaty loins. Within two minutes, he exploded all over her. She was certain he was still a virgin. That wasn’t so bad, she thought.
She continued to see the boy three nights a week, charging him three hundred each time. To her relief, he was a trust fund baby who had an almost endless supply of cash for her to take. Three hundred for five minutes of her dignity was not bad at all.
It wasn’t long until she had found herself a one-bedroom apartment and started opening it up for new clients, whom she charged six hundred per visit. It got to the point where it was eight men a day, except on weekends, which gave her time to re-collect herself.
A few months into her semen-coated lifestyle and she got her first break in the adult film industry. Four men were to take their turns on her, and in exchange, she would be paid three thousand dollars.
She demanded payment in full before she did anything. She was not going to make that grave mistake again. They paid her in cash and she stashed it in a shoe box on the top shelf of her bedroom closet. She went to see the men shortly after and two and a half hours later, she was covered in sweat and sperm, but this time, she was happy. Not only had she reached her climax multiple times, but she had also started her lavish lifestyle.
That same night, after taking the pill and a nice warm bubble bath, she decided she would stick with only a few of her old clients until she got another call. She even demanded that the clients film them fucking her. To her surprise, however, that and the need for something new turned many of her clients away and she was down to only three men a week.
Money was getting tight and still no calls had come. She cried herself to sleep most nights, one part because of the life she could have had and two parts because she thought she couldn’t pleasure a man anymore.
Audrey got a job working three nights a week at the grocery store her very first client had worked at. She had nearly forgotten about him until he confronted her on her break one day.
“Why are you ignoring me, Audrey?” he asked her.
“I’m sorry. I don’t do that anymore. I’m trying to make my life be–”
“That’s bullshit. I see the same three guys come to your house during random hours of the night and leave a few hours later. Don’t lie to me. If you don’t like me, then just say it.”
“Fine! I don’t like you! In fact, I find you annoying and nasty!”
“You goddamn bitch!”
Everyone in the break room looked at her after he stormed out. She didn’t care about that though, she was too busy thinking about the cart pusher knowing where she lived when she had never brought him back to her apartment.
Eventually, Audrey obtained a restraining order on the cart pusher, whose name, she learned, was Jonathen Hotch. Jonathen had confronted her outside of her apartment building and attempted to force himself on her.
The restraining order only kept him away for so long. Audrey came home one night and after checking her new messages, which one had been a casting call for another film, Jonathen attacked her and raped her.
“I love you, Audrey!” he repeatedly screamed as he thrust rapidly inside of her.
Jonathen had lasted a lot longer this time. It was half an hour before he filled her up with his salty, poisonous children that burrowed into her womb like rats trapped beneath a heat lamp.
Jonathen nearly killed Audrey, and would have had she not bit into the side of his face, ripping out a chunk of hair and meat. He reeled back and started to cry, then she slammed her small elbow into his stomach and sent him wobbling backwards, tripping on one of her heels and through her third story window. He landed headfirst on the concrete below.
Jonathen Hotch was dead, this much she knew, but she didn’t know that he was going to continue on, starting in her ovaries and eventually plaguing the rest of her life.
A few days after the incident, she got sick on the morning of her next film. She knew she was pregnant with the bastard child of the cart pusher. She couldn’t keep it and nobody could know. She had to focus on her film first, then how to deal with the fetus next.
She went to the place the phone call had told her to go and saw that it was a mansion, rented no doubt, but the butterflies started up in her stomach and, for a moment, she was brought back to her adolescent dreams of becoming a model and imagined a party waiting for her inside. She entered and was immediately ambushed by make-up artists and hairdressers. As they worked on her, a bald-headed man approached her and said,
“Hello, I’m Marvin. I just, uh, I wanted to go over a few things with you before the shoot.”
“Sure!” Audrey said, smiling, “Are you allergic to anything? Latex? Any kind of lube?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Okay.”
“Are there any, uh, limits you have?”
She thought for a moment, between the stress of the cart pusher and the excitement of the phone call, she didn’t understand what exactly they wanted her to do. There was no price tag, and no details other than a location. She got nervous, but brushed it off as some kind of stage fright and said,
“No, not really.”
“Okay,” the man said, “Here’s a check for ten thousand. We’ve been looking for someone like you for a long time, Audrey.”
Her heart crept into her throat. Ten-fucking-thousand? she thought. She’d read a few articles about porn stars not making much, but she had just made a quarter of their yearly salary in a month! She was ecstatic. She was going to get the fame she so deeply craved and quite a bit of money to add to the cake. She loved it! A professional, legal whore. Had she turned to this instead of being a street-ho, she would’ve been rich! Living in a mansion, eating chocolate strawberries with a martini beside her in her bubble bath with jets on full blast. No matter, she thought, that would come soon enough. I just have to clean myself up a bit and try to find myself an agent, if they even exist for porn stars.
After she was all dressed up and ready to go, Audrey followed the bald man down a set of stairs and into a cellar, where chains, whips, and various other leather assortments hung from the ceiling. There seemed to be a metal frame hanging from the ceiling as well and on either side of it were two men and a woman, discussing the recent hockey game which, apparently, their favorite team had lost.
The man directed her to the swinging bed frame and ushered her to lay on it. She did as instructed, but the bald man shook his head and directed her to hang upside down and to wait until the camera started rolling. She got nervous again. This time, she couldn’t brush it off.
Once the bald man stepped behind the blinding lights, she saw the red light from a camera begin to blink. Action.
The two men walked over to her and gripped her in their powerful arms, flipping her upside down and holding her against the cold frame that gave her goosebumps. The other woman began to fasten the straps across her body. One just beneath her breasts, another on her waist, another just above her knees, and another over her ankles. As the woman did this, the men licked Audrey’s stomach, cleavage, and neck.
Audrey began to grow calmer as her body gave into the leather embrace. As she sighed, however, something was slipped over her head, limiting her vision to only a fraction of what it was and even that was blinded by the lights. She couldn’t breathe. She started to panic and sweat, then a fresh burst of oxygen rushed into her lungs. After she caught her breath, her airway was extremely limited, breathing through a small hole.
She felt the men’s tongues begin to flick across her clitoris, ecstasy yet again, and when she moaned through the mask, she felt a sharp, sudden sting across her stomach.
“Nobody gave you permission to speak!” the woman barked, plugging the end of a tube, thus cutting off her oxygen again.
Panic.
It took the woman a while to remove her thumb, and the men continued to lick Audrey. Before she knew it, Audrey climaxed, squirting her juices all over the room and on the men and woman. Audrey’s orgasm hadn’t helped the lack of oxygen and though she hadn’t had such a climax in her entire life, she cried, afraid of death.
The woman removed her thumb and the air rushed in again. Shortly after, the men bent down and took turns wrapping their mouths around her air hole and spitting into the tube, forcing her to swallow every drop.
Audrey kept her sobs silent. She couldn’t lose this opportunity.
“I want you boys to piss in the tube. Make this little whore your urine dump, but don’t drown her.”
The men did as instructed and, once again, Audrey took every last drop.
Eventually, the woman undid the restraints. The men took Audrey off the bed and placed her in a swing, handcuffing her ankles and wrists to another set of metal and leather straps.
The men left her sight and when they returned, they were dressed in full black leather outfits that stretched across their heavily muscled frames. The woman abused them as well and commanded them to do whatever she wanted to Audrey. They wore condoms at least, she thought.
For three hours it went like this. She loved it, but she also hated it tremendously, which made her love it even more and hate it even more.
* * *
That night after the shoot, she was battered, disgusted and exhausted; so much so that she completely forgot about the poison in her womb.
“At least I’m rich,” she said.
The next morning, Audrey took another shower and left for the bank to deposit her check into her new bank account. When she returned, there were six new voicemail messages, all from different individuals offering her a great amount to do things similar to what she had endured the night before.
She took one of those offers for eight thousand dollars, set two months into the future, and another, tamer session between her, another girl, and a man for eighteen hundred dollars set for the following week. She threw out all of her crack pipes and any sort of drug she could come across, telling herself, again, that she needed to clean up if she wanted to go any further in the industry.
“You’re beautiful,” she told her reflection. “You’re an angel.”
The following week came and she did her scene, but this time, there was no ecstasy, just sheer boredom and forced moans. She took her money from both shoots and bought herself a new car. Still, she continued working at the grocery store, working at the hole, and seeing her three clients.
The next shoot came after her much needed R&R, and it was just her and another man posing in front of a film crew. It was much easier this time around, but also significantly more tame. She went home the night of that shoot and still did mundane ‘business’ with one of her clients, demanding him to tie her up and hit her. He did it, loving every minute of it.
She got a few more clients after that and started working with them, still charging six hundred a visit. There were seven clients in total, two of which only managed to see her when their wives were gone some place for a prolonged period. Still, she was able to cut down her grocery store days to just two a week, also lifting the weekend grace period. She always worried the clients were going to get bored with her, so she took a few more shoots for eight thousand a piece and also started her own website where she would post videos of her and her clients for five dollars a piece, personalized webcam videos for three hundred, and custom pictures for sixty. Not only was she now a self-made model, but she was also becoming one of the most well-known names in the adult industry, mostly for her extreme tastes.
She eventually quit her job at the grocery store and moved out of her old, small apartment and into a townhouse, leaving all of her old clients behind. Audrey decided to only have two clients this time and would only take a porno shoot every couple of months. Life was pretty good as far as she was concerned. All she had to do was take care of the cart pusher’s bastard child.
One night, after snorting a few lines, she grabbed a knife and drove it into her stomach, killing the poison within her. The doctors tried doping her up on anti-depressants, but she knew what she did and was happy she did it.
There was an ugly scar there, which she was afraid was going to ruin her career, so she got a rose tattooed over the mark and it vanished from the public eye.
Two years passed and she moved up in the adult industry. She moved into her own two-bedroom house, bought two big dogs, another new car, and an entire basement dedicated to bondage. She had two new clients that she charged two thousand a visit and wouldn’t go to a porno shoot unless they offered at least ten. She made cameos in two comedy movies and was almost always being interviewed or having pictures taken for some nude magazine. Even with all this, however, she was only just starting making forty thousand a year; disappointing to her at times, but she always reminded herself that it could be significantly worse. She’d been beneath worse, in fact, and she had pulled herself out using the same thing the world always bashed her for. The only thing she wished she could kick was her new addiction to cocaine.
Nothing could be better. She would rather have the fame instead of the wealth any day. Her website was booming. She could have any dick she wanted, her dogs were sweethearts, her car was new, and she had her own house. She’d met celebrities, dated them, and broke their hearts to pursue her career again.
Still, more money would be nice and little did she know, soon she was going to get just that. One day after coming home from her last porno shoot of the year, she received a phone call. A very well spoken man offered her four hundred thousand dollars for a hardcore bondage shoot. He stressed the fact that this had to be kept as a secret, for he was a well-known, wealthy man and couldn’t afford to have his reputation squandered. He just found Audrey extremely beautiful. He gave her an address, but no name, and she figured it was better that way anyway. The man wanted her that night, however. She hurried to get ready, scrambled through her closet for a tight fitting black dress, and did her hair as beautifully as she ever had.
“I’ve made it! I’ve finally made it!” she repeated to herself as she got ready.
At sunset, she jumped into the driver seat of her Charger and backed out of her driveway, blasting whatever music was on and singing along with it. Ecstasy had come in the form of wealth for her this time, and she didn’t know how to handle the excitement.
Her excitement died down when she saw where the address had taken her: an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere. Location was important to him, she thought, after seeing his black, brand new mustang parked at the side of the house. She understood that he had to keep this secret of his hidden. She walked onto the porch and knocked on the front door.
A few moments after, a clean cut business man opened the door. Audrey choked on her greeting, appreciating the young man’s sex appeal.
“Are you the one who called me?” she asked.
“I am.” He smiled and invited her inside.
Upon entering, she found that the house was completely empty until he directed her to the basement, where cages and leather sex awaited her. He motioned her to an ice cold table and told her to sit down and get comfortable while he set up the camera. She listened.
Shortly after, he asked her to lay back and she listened again. As the powerful young man pulled the restraints over her limbs, a warmth began to blossom in her belly and flush her cheeks.
“I’m very jealous of him. Father! She’s ready for you!”
Father? Suddenly, her excitement died into worry. What if the father hadn’t been as kind and handsome as his son?
First, she heard heavy boots stomping down the stairs. Next, she heard the labored breaths. Finally, she saw and smelled as he stepped in front of her, a large, sweaty, hairy middle-aged man. She saw, in his eyes, the look of rabid excitement and lust. She shut off her warmth and emotions, and readied herself for the heaving man. He unbuttoned his dress shirt, unbuckled his trousers and let them fall, removed the shirt underneath the nicer one and exposed a thick patch of curly dark hair beneath a golden chain. The large man’s hair had been slicked back, but was wild in some parts from his sweat.
“Now I finally have ya,” he said.
“This is going to run you a lot of money. Are you sure about this?” Audrey tried.
“Trust me, I ain’t gonna need tah worry about payin’ ya when I’m done. You’ll be thankin’ me.”
“We’ll see, big boy.”
“Glad we got an understandin’, you freaky, filthy, little whore.”
He clambered on top of her, crushing her ribs against the slab, and without warning, rammed his unimpressive erection into her ass.
He roared and she screamed as he thrust madly.
Audrey could feel herself tearing up as the table whined against his hulking weight. He pulled out and rammed inside of the next hole without any warning. That was something she was against. It was either finish inside her ass or only have it inside her ass, nothing afterward.
“Hey!” she attempted to scream. “Hey!”
“Shut up, ya fuckin’ slut.”
“Stop right the fuck now! Let me loose!”
Her pleading only seemed to pleasure the fat bastard more and he went harder and harder. She tried to scream again, but he slammed her face down on the table, breaking her nose and keeping it there.
He continued like this, switching between the different cock sleeves and pressing her face into the table.
He pulled out and finished himself off in her mouth, chanting,
“Don’t let me feel them teeth… Don’t let me feel them teeth… FUCK YES YOU FILTHY WHORE!”
He left his shit-stained ruiner on her tongue, watching the cum drip from her lips and around his penis. He finally pulled out and let Audrey cough the rest onto the floor as he laughed and caught his breath.
“Every hole of yours is so tight, angel,” the fat man said.
“Could I have her now, Father?” the boy said.
“No, I want this one all to myself, Derrick. She is too sweet and mature for you.”
“Please?”
“No. Now get the fuck outta here and let me and her be alone in peace.”
Derrick stormed up the stairs, shutting and locking the basement door.
Audrey’s ass stung and her mouth tasted terrible. The fat man had ruined what decency she had. Audrey vowed, as the fat man undid her restraints, that this was it. She was going to start life anew and give up on making a profit out of sex again, for fear of this happening once more.
But before she could even lift herself off of the table, the large man scooped her up in his arms and held her tight, carrying her to another section of the basement where a large red cloth had been hung from the rafters overhead. Still holding the thrashing, squirming Audrey in one arm, the man pulled back the cloth and exposed a new dungeon of horror.
This section was made up of various harnesses and tools and equipment. On the farthest wall, she saw a few more girls, each in some bloody pose. One face in particular, which forced Audrey to focus on the entire scene, was that of a prostitute she use to work with, Alexandria. Alexandria’s face and scalp had been removed, her cornrows nailed above her and her dark brown face stretched out and nailed to the brick wall. At the corners of Alexandria’s lips, the skin had started to split and seemed like a smile.
Audrey could do nothing but weep.
“She’s my newest one,” the fat man said. “I’m a bit obsessed with Roman mythology and that one, I call Medusa. When her and I first met eyes, my dick instantly went rock hard. Get it?”
Audrey simply sobbed.
The man proceeded to throw her down onto a steel table, stomach first, and strapped her in again.
“You will be my favorite, angel. I think when I’m done with you, I’ll invite the press and the police to come and take a look at my work. When my sculptures are known to the world, I will gladly take that needle in my arm.”
“Please, don’t!”
Audrey attempted to look up, but only met Alexandria’s hollow eye sockets, and wept again. The sudden buzz of a bone saw made her scream again.
“I’ll make you an angel!” the man cried over the saw.
“No! You don’t have to–”
It was too late. Before she could finish pleading, the man dipped the spinning blade into her back and began cutting down. It didn’t take long for him to reach the end, considering Audrey’s small size. Before she slipped into the unknown, she felt his dirty hands reach into the wound and begin to pull.
The fat man who shot his shit-tinged semen down her throat was now making her into an angel of flesh. He first split her back wide open, then proceeded to fillet the skin flaps into smaller ones, until it resembled two damaged bird wings. When he was finally finished, he wept because of how beautiful she was. He placed her on the ceiling of the basement. She was to be the centerpiece of his exhibit. He gouged out her eyes to symbolize God’s abandonment, and her tongue to symbolize the angel’s falling silent.
He proceeded to place the rest of his “sculptures” in their designated areas, cleaned himself up, put on his nicest clothes, greased his hair again, and put on a pair of aviators. He thought he would be the Elvis of murder. He called the press first and waited twenty minutes until the first of them arrived. He told his son to get as far away from their rundown home as possible, then proceeded to call the police.
Instantly, the journalists swarmed Audrey and snapped a multitude of pictures. The fat man smiled and began to tear up again at her beauty and the success she would give him.
Though Audrey had long since been bled out, she still had finally become the public figure she had always wanted to be, well, almost.
The small girl that had such promise growing up, turned prostitute, turned high-class whore, turned porn star, was now a public idol and an angel. She wouldn’t be remembered as the tiny whore anymore. She would forever be remembered as the Angel of Flesh, in the macabre exhibit the press deemed, “Room of an Angel.”
It’s been a while since I’ve made one of these, hasn’t it? My apologies. I’ve been really busy working on books and reviews for you guys, while also getting ready to move and have everything in order for our newborn. By the way, we’re less than 3 months from the big day and I can’t wait to hear my daughter cry for the first time.
Anyway, I figured it would be a great time to finally update you guys on what’s going to be coming in the near future. Strap in, we’ve got a lot to cover here.
Detritus
BIG NEWS!
Well, if you want to classify the announcement of a new book big news on an author blog (yes, this is still an author blog).
Detritus is my next upcoming novel. Rather than try to explain this rather bizarre story, I want to show you guys one of the teasers I’ve had made by a talented individual named Warren (Twitter: @BloodWar7, Instagram: @bloodwar7 give him a peek if you have the time).
That image is a picture of “The Vessel” the protagonist of Detritus. The great Agitator is a biomachine living within a strange and twisted world watched over by a mysterious, seemingly omnipotent deity named Mother.
Unfortunately, I can’t go much farther into details for fear of spoilers. But I can tell you what kind of influences I had for this story:
The Quay Brothers’ short films
H. R. Giger’s paintings
Tool’s early music
Thomas Ligotti’s stories
So if you’re familiar with the themes of any of these things, you’ll have a basic idea of what to expect for Detritus. Anyway, I’m really excited to release this one soon. I have a book cover coming and, after that, I will have a release date.
Mr. Fatal’s Greatest Hits
It’s done. Finally. The sequel to Born Again is finished. Honestly, I don’t know what it was about Mr. Fatal’s Greatest Hits but it felt like it would never get done.
As some of you may know, it had its fair share of shortcomings and failures that eventually led to me stepping away from the project completely. I’m not gonna lie, humble reader, this book almost broke me as an author. Not because I hated writing it, but because everything seemed to be getting in my way with Mr. Fatal’s Greatest Hits. I really started evaluating my life and my presence as an author over this manuscript. I really did think this project was my last time ever writing a book.
Talking about this journey to Mr. Fatal’s Greatest Hits is a blog post by itself though so I won’t talk about it much more.
The cover is in the works right now and a number of other boring things that associate with releasing a new book. I’m aiming for a fall release on this one. Probably October so that I have something for everyone for Halloween season.
I cannot stress just how good it feels to have this book completed finally. 2.5 years of work and stress are going to finally come to fruition.
Other Books
Aside from the completion of Detritus and Mr. Fatal’s Greatest Hits, I have a series of novelettes that I’ve been working on. Each of these novelettes is going to be 5 chapters long at 15,000 words each. More on those later. Each one has the potential to become much bigger projects should I choose to go a bit farther with them.
I have one novella almost finished along with a novel about halfway complete. But I haven’t worked on them in about two weeks so they have no guaranteed date of release yet. Honestly, I’m not expecting to have these done until late this year or even 2021.
With the projects in the works right now, I may have some releases that carry me all the way to 2022 which is awesome because I can spend more time focusing on other things like this blog and marketing each respective work. Most of all, however, I’m happy that I’ll be able to spend more time with my friends and family, because, honestly, I’ve been a recluse for the better part of a year.
This whole quarantine ordeal has actually helped my writing and I a lot. I was built for isolation!
Blog
Since the above passages were rather large, I’ll keep this one brief:
2 Movie reviews
1 Book review
2 Flash fiction stories
1 Short story
These will be coming soon. Be sure to check them out!
Misc. Projects
A jack of all trades is a master of none they say? Well, I disagree. A jack of all trades belongs in a mental institution.
Anyway, a very select few of you may know that I also do some occasional Twitch streaming and video reviews of various things. Twitch streaming is my favorite way to interact with people all over the globe, so I’ve got to take the chance to shamelessly plug it here: twitch.tv/thecreaturefeature . I stream every Sunday and Monday night at 9 PM. Come say hi, ask me questions, insult my unprofessional attitude, your choice! Don’t worry, you’ll never hear anything of my Twitch again after this post.
My YouTube channel, on the other hand, you’ll hear about it on occasion. I made the channel under my name, because I treat it like my blog, only in video form. I do teasers for my books, short films, reviews, vlogs, and even analysis videos. For my YouTube, I have the following lined up:
Teaser for Detritus (awaiting release date)
Vlog
Character analysis
So, if you like my blog, I can guarantee you’d like my YouTube. Like my journey as an author, my YouTube has gone through a pretty crazy evolution over the past three years.
Conclusion
Well, that’s all for now guys. As always, thanks for reading. You are the reason I do this. With nobody to read, I’d just be a guy trapped in his head 24/7. Thank you for allowing me this opportunity to have this outlet.
A big welcome to some of the new people following the blog! I hope you enjoy this little cult– er– family we’ve put together here.
It started when I was on the toilet, attempting to take a shit in case you couldn’t guess, and it was late. My phone read one-thirty-two in the morning and I was bone tired. I needed to use the bathroom immensely, I mean, it woke me up out of my sleep– the toilet must have been calling to me or something.
Anyway, I turn on my phone screen and click the Google search bar. Curious about the next big PlayStation release, I attempt to type out the words on my phone. My phone started spazzing out and typing out a whole bunch of crazy, nonsensical shit.
I didn’t think much of the glitch, at first, I just assumed it was a virus that latched itself onto my phone from all the porn I had been watching.
I restarted the phone and as the screen flashed on, my lock screen background had changed to a selfie of me sitting on the toilet a few seconds ago. Once again, I just thought it was a virus. I returned to the Google search bar and attempt to type again, the same glitch happened except this time the phone backed out of Google and turned the screen off.
“Are you fucking kidding?” I mumbled to myself.
I turned the screen back on and found that the lock screen had been changed again. The screen this time, however, had been changed into a picture of me or– at least what I thought was me– laying on a bed. My eyes had been sunken and it looked as if I was drunk. I was dead, to put it plainly.
“Holy fucking shit,” I said, my heart beginning to pound,
Suddenly, I got a phone call from some number where all of the numbers were — broken. I hesitated, this was some straight-up Creepy Pasta shit, dude, but I answered anyway.
“H—H—Hello?” I whispered into the receiver,
All that greeted me was a piercing shriek that curdled my blood. Not only had my left ear began to ring, but the phone– also shocked me. Pulling it away from my face, I saw on the screen the look of a girl whose mouth was hung open wide and her empty eyes seemingly beginning to cry while the rest of her face remained still. I froze there on the spot. Fuck me! I couldn’t put down the phone!
“Why did he do this to me!? WHY!?” she cried,
She screamed again and I threw the phone at the bathroom door. As the screen landed face down on the tile, the light bulbs above the sink mirror burst.
As I sat there in the darkness, the girl’s sobs seemed to come from right beside me then suddenly stop.
All that came after, was the BLOOP of the water as my shit hit the toilet bowl.
IT JUST DAWNED ON ME THAT I’VE HAD THIS BLOG FOR A YEAR ALREADY!
I guess it’s true when they say that time really does fly the older you get. I mean, sure, I’m twenty-three right now but I feel like I’ve already experienced an entire lifetime at this point.
I mean, to think, last year I wasn’t sure about writing anymore or even bothering with writing posts for my blog, but, look at this! We’ve had a pretty consistent flow of posts for a whole year and in that year I’ve seen a few things:
A slow, but steady growth for this blog
A slow, but steady growth for my social media
A more organized workflow
Some interesting ways to exploit the English language
I’ve witnessed a few other things that I’m sure I’ll remember later, but still, this has been a pretty exciting year! I just wish I would have released a single book, but instead I had most of my work unpublished.
Anyway, happy birthday to the blog and I can’t thank everyone enough for the small community we’ve started building here.
Fiction
Alright so I’ve been swapping back and forth between two projects which have proved troublesome for me in the past, but as of right now both are going smooth.
The first is a novella and it will be coming before anything else. That’s all I want to say about it right now.
The second is an epic-sized novel. I’ve written about twenty-thousand words for this one already and I’m far from being finished with it. This project probably won’t be published this year, simply because of the sheer size of the damned thing and the fact that I have to balance a full-time job with being a first-time father of a newborn, so this will be really difficult to finish, edit and publish by the end of the year.
BONUS: I can’t recall if I’ve mentioned this before, but I have also been revisiting Mr. Fatal’s Greatest Hits. All of the stories are finished, it just needs a cover and needs to be edited….. REALLY BAD. If I do decide to pursue this novel further, it will be released at the end of the year, probably in October to be in season with Halloween.
Other than that, I don’t have any other novels in the works at the moment. A couple of abandoned works that I could revisit if I have the time, but at the moment that doesn’t seem possible.
Blog
I’ve got a review of Stephen King’s The Drawing of the Three going live tomorrow, so be sure to check that out.
I’ve also got some flash fiction stories coming to the blog soon, but these will probably be stopped due to something else that I have planned. Not guaranteed at the moment.
I’m in the process of writing reviews for a film and another research discovery that I’d love to share with you guys.
Finally, I’ve also got a series of questions lined up for interviews with indie artists/authors/filmmakers/game developers. I’m going to start asking a few people if they’d be interested so, that should be coming soon as well.
Patreon
This is something that I’m actually pretty darn scared about making.
I would love to make a Patreon page where all of my readers could pay a small amount of pocket change to read early sneak peeks and exclusive short stories and flash fiction. I’ve got all of my tiers made up, all I have to do is make the Patreon page go live. I just want to do this properly and see what kind of reaction this would gauge if I did decide to do this.
The current tiers I’m working with are:
$1
$2
$5
$10
$20
$100 (limited to one person)
They’ll each have some pretty solid rewards if I do say so myself, I just need to grow some guts and start it.
Conclusion
That’s it for now, I’ll start posting regular update posts again when we get closer and closer to the release of my next post.
I love scary games. Why do I mention that you ask? It’ll become clear after I’ve finished telling you my story. Let’s just say, I never expected what I got.
I was out looking around at garage sales for old video games with my friend Devin. It was pretty slim pickings, for the most part, sports games and movies are all we could find. Devin got lucky with some antiques, but that’s not really important. Anyway, we went to the last house of the day, an old decrepit looking thing that would probably collapse at any second. The old lady was packing up what remained of her things and was getting ready to close up for the day. Devin didn’t recall seeing a sign though and stated that we should not bother her.
“Excuse me, are you selling anything?” I said, ignoring Devin.
“I was. Now I’m closing. Anything you’re looking for in particular?”
“Just some old video games if you have any,”
“Yep, I’ve got one left as a matter of fact.”
She dipped her hand into one of the boxes and withdrew a Super Nintendo cartridge. My heart sank until I saw that there was no label, just the words SNUFF written in bold black marker.
“How much?” I asked, without thinking.
“two dollars”
I nodded my head and withdrew two dollar bills from my wallet and handed them to the feeble woman.
“Look up the value for this one, Devin. I’ve never heard of this before.”
“Gotcha. I haven’t either.”
After a few minutes, he stated he couldn’t find anything on it anywhere. So we decided to go back to his house and test it out.
Nothing happened the first few tries, but after I think the fifth, the screen flashed on. Odd, there were no company names, it just went directly into the game. No big deal, I thought. The image before me seemed to belong to an FMV style game. Also really odd, considering only recently have geeks discovered that the SNES could run FMV games.
Anyway, I found my character staring at a door with two messages on the base of the screen, prompting me to go forward or backward. The weirdest part of this is that the game looks like an old nineties film instead of a game, but again, I didn’t think anything of it because there was another game a lot like this one where you had to keep actual human beings alive while home invaders attempted to kill them.
Anyway, I went forward and clicked on the next prompt that said open the door, locked. So I had the option to kick or cancel so I decided to kick but a message saying that it wasn’t a good idea. Eventually, I figured out that I had to pick the lock and then when I was inside, I directed my character up a flight of stairs and into a bedroom. I find myself looking down at a girl and I am prompted to either kill her or back away. I try to back away and another message flashes on saying NO. I was automatically given the option to kill her with a knife or with a pillow, so I chose pillow and it said NO again. I was given only one option this time that said, “Slit her throat” so I obliged and did it. My character flipped the girl onto her back and pulled a knife from some unknown reach and slid it across the woman’s throat, she tried to scream but only choked and another option popped onto the screen while the scene continued that said, “Stab her” but it clicked itself and my character began to stab her repeatedly. Normally, when somebody was murdered in a 90’s movie, you can tell the blood was fake but the blood this time was very convincing. Before I could wrap my head around it, another message flashed onto the screen that read, “Go to the kid’s room” and it selected itself again. My character left his knife inside of the woman and pulled a plastic bag just into the frame, walked himself out of the room and began down a small hall.
“What the fuck, dude?” Devin said. “Don’t go in there!”
“I’m not doing it!” I said, placing the controller on the floor.
The character opened another door and exposed an obvious young boy’s room. Next thing I know, the character is dragging the child out of his bed and wrapping the bag around the boy’s face as the child struggled. All we could see then was the boy’s feet just in frame thrashing about and eventually stop moving.
“That’s enough of this shit, this isn’t right,” Devin said.
I sat there in shock. This was no fucking game, this was a legitimate snuff film.
We called the police and went to the old lady’s house, only to find that she had died the night we bought the game.
It took me long enough, but I found it. It would have been a lot quicker if they had managed to cut down some of the shit trailing all over the face of the house, covering the address. Way too much trouble for a small pizza and breadsticks. Anyway, I better get a damned tip from this. Rain too. Fucking hate rain.
I step out from the driver seat, into the fucking rain and go around to my back door, open it and slide out the delivery bag. I hate my job. Anyway, time to get this delivered, the boss is probably going to chew me out when I get back to the store. I’m already late.
I approach a rotted, dilapidated gate and ease it open and begin up the path towards the front door. Erie as shit, that’s for sure. No lights either. They probably gave up and went to bed, if so, then I’m going to eat this fucking pizza for my troubles.
I give the front door a few quick knocks, after a moment, I delivered a few more. Nobody’s home? Damn it. No tip, but a free pizza? I guess I’ve gotta count my blessings. I turn and begin down the path again and I hear a creak from behind me.
“Is that my pizza?” a woman called.
“Uh– yeah. Sorry, I’m so late, I got a bit turned around. Haven’t been out this way,” I reply.
“I’m sorry sweetheart, meant to get these vines cut, as much as I love ’em. You can come in if you want while I get your money, don’t want you getting sick.”
She was a small, not-so-intimidating old lady so I figured, what the hell? I make my way forward again and step into the house. Cliche mothballs smell and the sudden, subconscious requirement to take my shoes off at the door. The house was pitch black, strange for an old lady who seems like she could be blown over with the slightest strong gust of wind.
She’s been gone for a while now. Is she alright?
“I’m going to leave your pizza right here on your coffee table alright? I won’t charge you.” I called out,
“Oh– honey I’ve fallen and I can’t get up– could you help me?”
“Of course! Where are you?”
“Back bedroom just in front of the door!”
Shit. Just my luck. Could this night get any fucking worse? Might as well go help her.
I feel across the wall for a light switch and find one, flicking it up, I find that the power is out. Perfect!
“Alright, I’m on my way!”
“Please hurry, I’ve got to use the bathroom so bad.”
Fuck. Me.
She better not piss or– shit all over me when I help her up. If she does, I’ll quit right on the fucking spot. I didn’t sign up to be a nurse aid.
I reach the end of the hall and turn into the left bedroom, my foot meeting the bottom of hers.
“Please– help me up honey–”
“Yep–”
I bend down and wrap my arms around her frail frame. She starts groaning and it almost forces me to drop her due to paranoia, but she was already too high up for me to drop her without inflicting serious injury.
“My potty is right behind me– in front of the nightstand– set me up there.”
I do as instructed and without warning, she begins to shit– signaling the fact with a loud fart and a few plops of muddy clumps. She couldn’t have fucking waited?
“Have a nice night, ma’am. Your pizza’s right out on the coffee table,”
“Hold on– Veronica wants to play with you.”
“Veronica? I’m sorry ma’am I really have to get back to the restaurant,”
“Veronica! Sweetie, he’s right here!”
I’m not playing with your fucking cat or dog, lady. I’m not going to spare a single moment getting out of this God-forsaken house.
“I’m sorry, ma’am–”
“She’ll be here in just a minute. Veronica! Where are you? There you are, sweetie.”
The old woman finished emptying her bowels and though it was really dark, I could make out her smiling to something behind me.
“I have to go.” I simply said.
I turn, ignoring anything else she has to say and begin out of the bedroom. Time to leave her to her dementia or whatever–
What the fuck!
The first thing I saw was two white balls staring intently at me, they hung higher than the door too. Her figure was slender and her arms and legs were impossibly stretched and sharpened. A quick flash of lightning revealed a set of long, jagged, sharp teeth that seemed to be drooling and– where her eyes should have been– there were just two dark holes. But what produced the pale glow? How the Hell is this even possible?
I froze as she started easing her way towards me.
“He’s a nice boy, Veronica. Play good with him okay?”
The shadowy figure seemed to nod, and after a long moment, she lurched forward and wrapped her arms around me and carried me quickly to some unknown reach of the house.
I was slammed down onto a cold, flat surface and, before I knew it, I felt my stomach begin to sting as her face buried into my abdomen, gnawing on my rib cage and, shortly after, my insides.
That dream about McKenzie was almost too much for me to handle. My face feels hot and my groin aches. I’d love to have her here right now, but mom and dad would hear us for sure. It doesn’t matter anyway, it’s not like she even notices me. But I can fantasize, can’t I? Great, now I need to go jerk off. Normally, I don’t mind, but tonight is a bad night. I’ve got exams tomorrow and I need to be in good shape. I’ll rub one off real quick and go back to bed, but I don’t want to get my blanket all fucked up tonight so I’ll need to go to the bathroom. I stand up and switch on the light, the face of that little baby from the Nevermind album cover greets me. Oh, I’ll be dropping a few babies off at the pool tonight. I open my door and go into the hall. I can hear dad’s snoring from all the way over here, mom must sleep worse than I do.
I make my way to the bathroom and flip on the switch, do my business, flush the phlegm like fluid down and leave the bathroom. As I switch off the light, my attention is drawn by the white light of our living room television playing static. Did dad leave the television on? I’d better go switch it off, I know he’ll blame me. I head into the living room and find my attention being drawn to a VHS that is fastened to the back of the television with duct tape. The label reads “play me, Greg.” which is my name.
I should be going to bed, but I think dad made a special tape for me. One of his porno bootlegs that I’m always diving into. This would be an awesome, early birthday present that, without a doubt, I can’t tell my mother about. How did he know I’d come out here tonight though? It doesn’t matter. Just the thought of some brand new, nasty, freaky porn just for me is making my penis hard again. It wouldn’t hurt to just take a peek and maybe rub another one out. I pop the tape into the player and wait for the screen to adjust, shifting from blue to an unclear image, to a black screen with red text that reads,
“Don’t be afraid. Everything is all better now.”
That’s bizarre but alright. The image then flickers to a bed with a man and a woman strapped down. Never saw any of this type of stuff before. They’re always talking about it at school, so maybe I’ll like it?
Wait, is that mom and dad? Did dad accidentally film them having a four-way with another couple and put it on here? Oh, God!
Oh, fuck! That’s not it at all. There seems to be a man sitting in the corner of their room just staring at me through the screen. He’s dark, all he’s got are teeth and two eyes, the rest of his body is a shadow.
The image changes to the red text again.
“I like you. Do you know why?” it reads.
What the fuck?
“Because your flesh is warm.” I hear someone say behind me.
Sunako Megumi clenches her fists tightly as she peers behind her at the village that has kept her from her life.
Sunako always is a small-town girl with big-city dreams. She romanticizes daily of life in a penthouse in downtown New York or, at the very least, Tokyo. She dreams of fame, wealth, and happiness. It’s her parents’ fault that she’s still stuck here. For the sixteen years, she’s been alive, her mother and father just do the same thing day in and day out, working the rice fields that surround their village. They’ve tried to have their daughter join them, just as her older brother had, but eventually gave up, realizing she dreamed too much.
She turns back towards the road before her and smiles, thinking about all her family missing her and crying over her when they realized she had run away. By the time this happened, however, she planned to be hours away. She continued forward, adjusting her backpack filled with clothes, food, and various beauty products.
About ten minutes later, she had reached the terraced rice fields where her parents worked day after day. She stopped a moment to catch her breath and take a sip from the canteen of water she had slung over her shoulder.
“This is it.” She whispered to herself as she stared out over the fields.
She screwed the cap back onto her canteen and let it fall to her side as she began cutting through the field. Instead of taking an hour just to go around the fields via the road, she figured she could, at least, cut her time in half cutting through. She stepped off the road and into an ankle-deep pool of water. She shrieked, feeling the chill rush up to her spine. She had forgotten the paddy fields were practically lakes at this point.
“No point in turning back now. I’m already wet.” She mutters, trudging through the water.
The deeper she went in the fields, the further away she got from any regrets of leaving her family in the middle of the night. The rice was the reason for her captivity in the first place, is it not? Her parents worked the fields day after day and yet they could hardly make ends meet, at least, that’s what her parents told her. At that rate, she’d never go to college and never get to New York, she’d be trapped at the village like everyone else stupid enough to stay there. She’d rather die.
She suddenly heard the splashing of water behind her. She froze and she bent over, wondering who else could be out in the fields. Was it her brother? Did he follow her out here to try and convince her to come back home? She looked around but saw nothing.
She eased forward, trying to avoid any sight of whoever else was out in the fields with her. She smacked a palm to her head, realizing that if it was, indeed, her brother then he would have said something by now. It’s probably just an animal of some kind. She took a deep breath and straightened her posture and continued forward.
Still, on edge, she decided to try and calm herself with some music, removing her MP3 player and headphones from her bag. She jams the audio jack into the port on the side of the device and turns it on. She wished she had a phone, but her parents always said that phones were a waste of money and time. Probably wouldn’t get service out in the middle of nowhere anyway, she thought.
Once the screen flashes on, she presses the play button and it begins playing her favorite pop song, singing about clubs, dancing, drinking, and, most importantly, boys. She always wanted a boyfriend, but all the boys in the village were nobodies, left to live in their father’s shadow and die in the fields.
The plopping of water sounds out again, she only hears it slightly this time and pins it up to her nerves once more, trying to drown it out by humming the lyrics to the song. Then the water splashed rapidly and louder, almost deliberately. She removed her headphones and turned around. She scanned the darkness for any sign of movement but found none.
“Hello?” she called out nervously.
In response, something besides her caused a massive burst of water to explode from the rice plants. She yelped and ran straight. The water splashing all around her made her believe that whatever was toying with her was right behind her.
Her head filled with panic and the thought of some pervert chasing after her. He was going to rape her and then kill her– with a knife– the one thing she’s paranoid about. Her brain ran faster than she could ever hope to and her legs locked up and she fell face-first into the water. Her MP3 slipped from her hand and drowned right in front of her. She sobbed and sat on her knees rubbing her eyes. She wanted to go home now, she didn’t care about going to Tokyo or New York, she just wanted to go home where it was warm and safe.
She peered through her hands at the darkness surrounding her. She felt incredibly vulnerable and exposed; Sunako was at the mercy of her pursuer. Still, she saw nothing, she heard nothing.
“I want to go home.” She quietly sobbed.
Something leaped from the darkness behind her and tackled her, pinning her face in the water. She fought as it tore at her clothes and she managed to escape and shoot straight up to begin running the direction from which she came. She peered behind her and saw her pursuer. It wasn’t a man, although its body had the shape of one. The jaw was elongated and snapping at her as it chased. Its eyes were black and it had no hair, just a large collection of dark veins trailing all over its scalp. The muscles covering the body were red, as though there was no flesh keeping them covered. It had claws on its hands and feet and was charging after her on all four limbs. She was flooded with terror and ran even harder.
She hadn’t got more than a few paces away when another creature leaped out of the rice stalks to her right and tackled her. This one was a mirror image to its fellow beast and carried the same overwhelming bloodthirst that clung to its twin.
The one on top of her stretched its jaw wide, exposing a large set of fangs and bit down on Sunako’s neck, driving its teeth into her jugular. It ripped its head up and the girl’s head nearly came off of the small strand of flesh that remained of her neck. The other was now upon her as well and had taken to her arm, using its claws to rip it from her torso, it swallowed the small thing in almost a single bite, then it moved onto her right leg. The one on top of Sunako had moved down and quickly ripped open her chest with its giant mandible and began feasting on her internal organs.
The young girl with dreams of romance and big city life died quickly. By the time the sun came up, her body was almost completely devoured save for a few strands of meat and bone the two creatures deemed unpleasing. She was discovered by two workers who came to the fields that day. Only a part of her face had remained following the attack and that was used to identify her. The police told her parents and they wept to mourn their daughter, blaming themselves for what had happened, just the way she wanted them to when she set out on her adventure.
KYLE ATWOOD 