I gave myself a challenge, I wanted to write something fucked up and weird.
This is the produce of that self challenge.
Part 2 of a 3 part (so far) story, if you guys like this one I may turn it into a video trilogy, audio drama style.
You can read Part 1 at this link: https://tsdjaproductions.wordpress.com/2015/05/14/dont-go-down-there-part-1/
Anywho, I hope you enjoy…
His first thought was “Son of a bitch!!! Who the fuck brought all those rags down here and put them with my shit? I don’t want It to be to comfortable! No more then Ten are allowed, but a whole pile? I swear to god, I will end all of the stupid pricks in this crapshack!”
The “rags” groaned, It’s chain rattled as It tried to move across the cold wet concrete, almost reaching the pit.
A weak voice spoke “hell…hello? Is there…are you there? Can you please let me out? Let me free…I can…I can bring help for you…get you…get you some where safe” Fury.
Raging, blinding, white hot fury.
It boiled all the way up His neck, He could feel His ears getting hotter by the moment.
He looked at it, the pitiful thing, It’s arms were chained behind It’s back and to the wall, He’d also put a urine soaked blindfold over It’s eyes.
He looked down at the puddle of coagulating blood from earlier, the one He’d also just stepped in, and followed it back to the mattress.
He looked up at the TV mounted above the damn things head and thought “time for some fun”.
He turned around and grabbed the remote, the thing called out “hello” again, turned the TV on and waited.
He watched as the filth covered beast whipped It’s head from side to side, trying to focus in on the sound.
He watched this for a few seconds, growing slightly sad at how long it took It to find the right direction.
After almost 15 seconds, far too long indeed, It finally looked up…then in his direction.
“Are you there?”
In His direction…that was telling.
Whoever was giving It the rags stood near His work station, that WAS NOT allowed…that was definitely going to have to be taken care of.
“Pl…pl…please, say something…I know you’re there. Help…help me! Oh god, please…I-I’m scared!” That was all that He’d needed to hear.
He turned around, grabbed a hammer, turned back to It, looked at the old box TV, down at the thing, and threw the hammer as hard as He could.
The screen shattered, glass showered down on the mattress, cutting it.
Blood welled up on It’s lacerated skin.
The shattered TV began to teeter on the edge, teasing Him.
Finally it fell down onto the mattress, onto It, It screamed.
The sound of it was akin to the sweetest music He’d not heard in such a long time, the pain was palpable.
It was writhing in torment, beautiful, horrific, torment.
He walked slowly over, looked down at his boot, paused for a second to take a deep breath, brought his foot back, and kicked It as hard as He could right in It’s nose with His steel toed boot.
His boot slammed into It’s head which in turn slammed into the wall, killing It instantly.
Blood spewed forth from the wound, His boot was covered, a nice sliver of bone and a chunk of sweet, squishy, spongey, brain right there on His laces.
“That mattress is really gonna need a flip” He thought with an icy chuckle “wait til they get home, I’m gonna find out who was down here and make them pay.”
To Be Continued…
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And remember, the world sucks enough kids, try not to make it any worse by being an asswipe.
Be cool, man.