Broken, Part III

The woman was stirring, moaning. She looked up at me, and then at Vincent. She maybe looked at the knife, too, because something spooked her. She back up against the wall, and curled into a ball.

Slowly moving across the room, I set the knife on Vincent’s belly because there was no reason to approach her with a weapon in my hand. She was scared. No, terrified. Petrified that I would kill or hurt her more than what she had already endured. Truthfully, she was already hardened by what he had done to her. I could see it in her eyes. She wasn’t all there anymore, but still a part of her feared something. Maybe she feared living on just to suffer more pain at the hands of a madman.

When I reached her, I stopped. She turned her face away from me, cowering form my presence. To lessen my effect on her, I kneeled to show that I wasn’t a threat. It didn’t work. I thought maybe a touch might prove that I had no ill will toward her, but as soon as my fingers barely grazed the fine hairs of her skin, she flinched. Therefore, I decided to try a different approach, one that I was certain would work.

I stood and said, “Nothing I say will make you trust me, but if you give me just a—” Immediately, Vincent interrupted me by planting the knife deep in my shoulder. He and I both fell forward, landing on the ground next to the woman. She scurried back as far as the chain tether would allow her, and she balled up even more.

The pain seared, and I couldn’t feel my fingertips. My arm was going cold, numb. He had done considerable damage. He pulled the knife free, and I rolled over, determined to make sure he didn’t get another chance at me.

He screamed, “You!”

I kicked out for his shin, hoping to snap one of them. It didn’t work, but it did stagger him enough to make him fall backward. Apparently, he was still a little drunk from the fall earlier.

I scrambled up, favoring my arm. When I was over him, he tried swiping at me with the knife, but I wasn’t scared of it. If he was trying to stab me, perhaps that would be one thing, but a bit of sliced skin was hardly a concern for me. Luckily, he only managed one good swipe before I kicked him in the groin. He coughed, loosened his grip on the knife, and then I kicked it from his hand. He winced as the knife clanged against the wall.

It’s funny how things in life are always a sort of mild grey rather than black and white. For instance, I had originally been very disgusted by his weight and health. Now, as he struggled to keep his breath, I was happy and thankful. He wasn’t healthy enough to fight back without a weapon. To be fair, he did have powerful legs, but as soon as I straddled him, he wasn’t strong enough to get me off. After hitting him in the face, he was out cold again.

Looking at the table to see what had gone wrong, it appeared he’d cut through some of the straps. My desire to show compassion to that girl had caused me to make a huge mistake. I left the weapon with him, and for that I paid dearly.

There was no way they would hold him again, but at that point, it no longer mattered. With my arm completely useless, I knew it was impossible for me to get him back up there.

After walking over to the knife and picking it up, I said, “You don’t have to trust me, woman. I’ve done some pretty nasty things. You don’t have to fear me, either.”

I barely recognized my own voice. So strange was the man inside me that I wasn’t certain I could trust my own words.

She didn’t flinch when I neared her again. It was as though she knew, despite her self-preservation, I wasn’t going to harm her. I felt like she still didn’t trust me, and she had a right not to, but at least we were making progress. I offered up a bit more reassurance when I reached up and removed the inch-thick cotter pin holding the chain to the ceiling.

“There,” I said, and stepped back. “You’re free.”

She looked up at me, more timid than ever I’d seen of someone. She was as a child might be when confronted by a stranger. I don’t know how long she’d been down here, but her soul and will had been broken, reducing her to distrust all, no matter if it was God himself standing before her.

I returned to Vincent and knelt down. He was still sleeping, but I knew I had to get to work soon because he’d wake up and put up another fight, which was something I really wasn’t in the mood for.

As I retrieved the knife from my belt, the woman stood. The skin around the wrist where her hand had been removed was crudely sewn shut. It was red, and looked sore. She winced, but didn’t reach for the stump. No, she reached for her crotch, and judging by the way she held her knees together as she walked, taking her hand wasn’t the only fucked up thing her did to her.

The woman walked as far as she needed, and then dropped to her knees. She started to cry, deep heaves as she probably recalled all the disturbing things he did to her. As I sat there, I felt for her, which was something I didn’t think would ever happen. However, I couldn’t help thinking about how my wife and daughter felt at the hands of these maniacs. How scared and broken they were before these fuckers killed them.

She raised her hand, and pounded her fist into Vincent. She hit him repeatedly until she no longer had the energy. Surely, it did no damage because her body was broken, probably more broken than my emotions. She probably just didn’t have the strength to make him hurt. At least that’s what I thought, anyway.

“I’m Oliver,” I told her, and tried to give her a smile. I couldn’t. “I know… I know what you went through, even though I can never know how you feel. He… he took my wife. Not him directly, but he let them have her. Let them have their way with her. Then they killed her, but they made her suffer first. Tortured her. Broke her.”

I felt the heat burn my face as hot tears rolled down my cheeks. I couldn’t meet her eyes, but I knew she was watching me.

I continued, “He was the one…” I had to pause, because this was the worst part. It was all bad, but this made me who I am today. “He hurt my baby. My little girl. Wrapped his giant hands around her frail little neck, and he…”

It was there I cried. I hadn’t talked to anyone about what happened because I didn’t think anyone could possibly understand, but this woman knew. She had been in their place, and no doubt, had I not shown up this night, maybe she’d have ended up with rings around her neck as well—if not a bullet through the skull.

She reached out with her hand, her fingers shaking with either fear or malnutrition—or both. I looked at her for a moment, and didn’t need to ask what she wanted. I handed her the knife. She looked at the blade, and then at Vincent. The contempt twisted her face, turning her from a broken albeit beautiful woman into a monster. I knew what she wanted to do, so I laid next to Vincent, wrapped my good arm around his neck to hold him still, and nodded to her.

She didn’t hesitate to get to work stabbing him. He woke up on the first one that entered his leg, and he screamed. No doubt the guards would come running if he kept it up, so I placed my numb hand in his mouth. I wondered briefly if he could remember the taste because as he bit down during his muffled call for help, all those memories of what he did to me came rushing back.

She stabbed and stabbed, and he called out in pain. Most of her attack centered on his penis and hands, and I don’t blame her. Those were a source of pain for her. They were the things that destroyed her.

Soon, he wasn’t screaming any more. Vincent had gone limp, but she continued to stab him. She let out a whimper of anger each time she stuck that blade into his body.

After pulling my hand free from his mouth, I inspected the teeth marks he’d left. I was bleeding, but not bad. It probably would have been painful if I could feel it. Thankfully, I couldn’t.

The girl finally stopped stabbing him, leaving the blade buried deep into his crotch. I looked at her, and she looked at me. Her face was striped with strands of his blood, which also spackled her chest and arms. He was as good as dead, and even though she clenched her teeth in anger, I still detected a small amount of satisfaction written on her face.

“I’ll help you get out of here,” I told her, but she nodded to refuse. I said, “What?”

She nodded again, and pulled the knife from its fleshy sheath. I thought perhaps she meant to kill me, but she instead brought the blade to the left side of her neck and cut through her own carotid. The blood squirted a couple times, and as her body weakened, she dropped the knife. She laid down gently onto the sealed concrete, and bled out until she passed away.

I watched her for a long while, and I longed for the kind of peace. The sounds of silence after death. All of life’s problems for her were gone, now. Perhaps I didn’t condone suicide, but the way this girl looked now, was beyond perfect. She had endured so much, and now that she had confronted and killed the man that hurt her, she finally stepped out of this horrible world to find peace in whatever laid beyond.

As I stood and headed for the exit, I knew that one day it would be my turn to enjoy that eternal sleep, that moment of peace. For now, though, I had one more stop to make. I had to go see the man that started all this pain and anguish. The man responsible for so many lives lost, including my beautiful girls. It was time to see my father.

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You Won’t Believe What He Does to His Family! (NSFW)

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The girl must defend herself from the violent monster.

The mother must decide between protecting her daughter and saving herself from the dangerous monster.

The neighbor struggles between self-preservation and protecting the girl from the monster’s malevolence.

The monster has no other desire than to bring fatal harm to those around him, and will stop at nothing to get what he wants.

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Twice the Trouble

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She walked up to me, her finger wagging in the air like an excited puppy, but she was anything but happy. “Ooooh, I am so mad at you right now.”

“Me? You’re the one who decided it was a good idea to go outside!”

“Ugh! I can’t even with you right now!”

“Bitch, please. Had you stayed inside like I told you, they wouldn’t be hunting us down.”

“Whatever, I could turn you in as the fake, and then I wouldn’t have to hide, like ever.”

“You can’t do that, they would know.”

“How? Unless your ass grew three sizes too big since I last saw you,” she said, eyeing me. “Look, we both know you created me to be perfect. Better than you’ll ever be, so I’ll never be the one they figure is the clone.”

I gasped, and looked out at the ocean. Okay, maybe I was looking at the profile of my ass in the shadow. She didn’t know that, though. A good thing, too, because it meant I would be inadvertently admitting that she was getting to me.

“Don’t you look away from me when I’m talking to you, Missy.”

“I created you,” I said, and finally met her eyes. “I’ll do what I want.”

“I’d like to know how you plan on doing that?”

“Chronos.”

Now she was the one gasping. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

She eyed me, as she usually does when she doesn’t trust me. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

I smirked and pulled a small device out of my pocket. It was about the size of a car remote, but instead of alarm buttons, it had a small screen with buttons to set a date and time. It was Chronos, a time-travelling device I created for emergencies. Just then, it seemed like a good time to use it.

I started typing the new time, and she said, “You can’t do that or I’ll use the black box!”

“The what?” I said, and looked up.

With wild eyes, she produced her own small device, and started typing on it. I said, “No, you can’t do that! It’s not fair!”

She laughed maniacally as the sky started to darken. The wind howled through distant trees, and the clouds raced across the sky. Then, just above us, as the black sky gave way to purple, the clouds swirled as if the small epicenter of a hurricane.

I returned my gaze to her and then to the device in my hands. If I could just get back in time to stop her and destroy that black box, then none of this would ever happen. If I failed, then the world would perish.

After a moment, I finally entered the time, three weeks prior to this day. The small red button in the center of my device blinked in and out, and just before my thumb pressed the button, she knocked it out of my hands.

“No!”

“Yes!” She screamed, and looked at the sky. The winds descended upon me, the clouds reaching down like large hands. They grasped me, soon to take me to unknown places. I had lost the battle here and now, but the war was far from over.

I screamed, “Mom!”

“What are you doing you little brat?” Loretta said.

I called again, “Mom!”

“What, honey?” she said from under the shade of a nearby picnic umbrella.

Loretta tried to cover my mouth but I fought her as I said, “Lori’s not playing fair!”

“What did she do, honey?”

I didn’t know how to explain that my bitch of a sister had cheated, so I said, “She said a bad word!”

She gasped. “Ugh! I did not!”

“Did, too!”

“Uh, huh! She said it! I swear!”

“Did not! Momma, she’s lying!”

“Both of you stop it right now!”

By then, Loretta had me laying in the wet sand and was trying to push my face into it. We both looked up, and our mother was staring at us over the rims of her dark sunglasses. Loretta quickly crawled off me, and started playing in the dry sand. I stared at my mother, who continued to stare at me. I scowled, puckered my lips, and then after picking my Tamigotchi off the ground, I ran off to play in the tide pools. There was a giant sea creature living down there, and I didn’t have time to pay mind to my mother’s neutrality. The world needed me.

Final Hour

The girl must defend herself from the violent monster. 

The mother must decide between protecting her daughter and saving herself from the dangerous monster. 

The neighbor struggles between self-preservation and protecting the girl from the monster’s malevolence. 

The monster has no other desire than to bring fatal harm to those around him, and will stop at nothing to get what he wants.

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