[What happened?]
[…huh?]
[I can’t move!]
Blindfolded, I lay on a hard surface. My arms and legs are bound.
I start to struggle.
Twisting and grinding against my bindings, I attempt to
break free.
[It’s no use…]
I realize forcing my way out is a meaningless effort. These ropes are tight and strong.
I lay back and try to relax my body through the panic.
As the sound of my breath begins to quiet, a chill runs down
my spine and I am once again thrown into a state of panic.
[Oh god, he is right there!]
I hear someone breathing hard right next to me.
As if forgetting my previous efforts to break free of the
ropes, I once again twist and turn every part of my body as hard as I can.
I catch the blindfold on the hard surface I am laying on,
and it slides down my face enough for me to see.
I am still in my school uniform. My skirt is even bound by the ropes so that
my panties aren’t revealed.
Around the room are various vintage items.
Hanging all around me are crucifixes.
Mounted to the wall are swords and shields.
The room is lit by candlelight. The stone walls give me the feeling that I am
underground, perhaps a basement.
I am tied to a wooden table, perhaps bolted to the ground.
I turn my head towards the breathing I heard earlier.
[Oh god!]
A man.
He looks to be 30 or 40, he is wearing robes.
Holding a crucifix close to his chest in one hand and a
knife in the other, he sits in a chair about 2 meters away, staring at me.
[Is he going to kill me!?]
I panic.
I scream.
“PLEASE DON’T KILL
ME!!”
“I WON’T TELL ANYONE
PLEASE JUST LET ME GO!!”
I’m crying, begging, pleading.
His look intensifies.
“DON’T LOOK AT ME!!
DON’T LOOK AT ME!! DON’T LOOK AT ME! Stop looking at me! Don’t… just don’t
look at me anymore… you ca..”
He trails off murmuring to himself.
Scared and panicked I scream uncontrollably.
I scream for help, I scream for mercy, I scream for freedom.
“SHUT UP!! STOP
SCREAMING!! PLEASE DON’T SCREAM!! DON’T… DON’T… STOOOOOP!!!”
I don’t stop, I can’t.
I keep screaming as if it is the only thing keeping me alive.
“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
Screaming, the man stands up with the knife and runs toward
me.
I feel the blade hit me in the stomach.
He takes it out and stabs me again, this time in just above
my left breast.
A third time, a fourth.
I start to lose consciousness.
The screaming has stopped.
I can hear my blood dripping off the table.
It is the last sound I hear.
******************
She is laying there on the table.
Her eyes are still closed but I know that soon they will be
open.
I fear it more than anything.
She lays there.
Her pale skin, almost green.
Her hair is pitch black.
Her clothes have holes in them, they look thousands of years old.
Her mouth is stitched shut so tight the string pulls the
skin.
I look around the room, trying to get my mind off her.
The walls are covered in moss. This place looks like a dungeon.
There are skulls and arms mounted to the walls, dead flesh
rotting and falling to the floor.
The corners of the room are filled with a darkness that
seems to draw me in. I have to avert my
eyes to keep it from swallowing me.
My eyes wander to the broken yellow toenails of the girl on
the table.
Her foot twitches.
She is tied firmly to a wooden table, though these old ropes
look brittle and weak.
[I wonder if the ropes can hold her.]
I start to doubt the strength of the ropes.
I find myself breathing heavily.
[!!!]
She wakes up.
She begins pressing against the rope, attempting to break
free.
I clutch the crucifix in my hand and press it firmly against
my chest.
I don’t really believe these things will help, but they seem
to put me at ease, if only a little bit.
In my other hand I hold a knife.
[I must kill this thing… I have to… I need to… I..]
She stops struggling and becomes calm.
I breathe a sigh of relief.
However, it is short lived.
Before I can react she rubs her face against the table to
remove her blindfold.
This is what I most wanted to avoid.
I almost shriek when I see her eyes.
Those pitch black eyes.
Eyes so empty so void of anything, they call to me.
They pull me in, my soul, my everything.
I can’t look away.
I panic and scream.
“DON’T LOOK AT ME!!
DON’T LOOK AT ME!! DON’T LOOK AT ME! Stop looking at me! Don’t… just don’t
look at me anymore… you ca..”
[You can’t look, anything but that… please…]
She starts to smile at me.
A cold smile, there is no emotion, no warmth behind those
pale lips.
As her lips stretch, they pull against the strings sewing
her mouth shut.
More and more they pull against the strings until the string
cuts through them and her mouth opens.
The sound that comes out isn’t something a human is capable
of making.
Covered in a sound similar to static, she shrieks like some
animal. I can only imagine this is the
sound of death.
[NO!! NO!! I can’t!! Please… don’t… I can’t take it!!]
“SHUT UP!! STOP
SCREAMING!! PLEASE DON’T SCREAM!! DON’T… DON’T… STOOOOOP!!!”
[I need to end this quickly, before she takes away what
sanity I have left!]
I grip my knife tighter and prepare to attack.
Standing up, I charge towards this demon.
“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
I plunge the knife into her stomach.
She starts laughing at me.
Terrified, I stab her again and again until she is silent.
I let go of my knife and back away.
She is still smiling.
END
I was sitting around, lost in my own world like I normally am. This is a scene I imagined.
I thought it would be an interesting idea to have the main character of a story be a serial killer that saw the world differently than everyone else.
Where you and I would see a normal girl walking down the street, he would see a demon girl in tattered clothing, pale skin, black eyes, possibly disfigured, floating over black tar laughing at him.
This pushes him to abduct people and kill them to rid himself of the demons he sees everyday.
I was thinking of creating a second character, probably a young female, who has a troubled past and gets abducted by him.
When she comes to, she acts different from the rest, calm, reserved. She listens to him and they develop some form of relationship.
Anyway, let me know what you think.
Maybe I am just a messed up person haha.
