In honor of Hasty’s 31 days of Horror and Halloween.
Strangled whimpers wafted through the tiny space, while his heavy breath puffed out into the chilled October air, a visible cloud of evil with each decisive movement. Each winding of his rope, each tie of a knot, each jerk of her body to position it perfectly… painfully, but perfectly.
As he completed the task, he admired his work. The tight bindings had her naked body twisted and secured in such a way that she looked as though something might break at any moment. The shape created by her stretched and twisted limbs was truly satisfying. His sadistic chuckle brought about another muffled whimper, as she couldn’t quite make any other sound.
Sorting through his tool bag, he glanced at her from time to time, soaking in the fear from her eyes. He turned toward her with a knife, a simple switch blade, but sharp and perfect for poking and prodding the other, lovely sounds of despair that he was desperate to enjoy, from his deliciously beautiful, new victim.
Her sweet eyes grew wide when she saw the blade, and her whimpers turned to attempts at muffled screams, strained by the belt around her neck. As he stepped against her, he pulled at her shoulder twisting her frame further to tighten the stranglehold, halting her pleas. Not that she could be understood anyway, through the old work rag he’d stuffed in her mouth while she was unconscious.
It was clear she would be a screamer, and his mind burned with anticipation. Hearing her cries when he captured her, was enough to set his body ablaze, and he almost hated silencing her when he knocked her out so he could strip and gag her without a fight. But the thought of her tormented shouts filling the small confines of his camper as he marked up her flawless body was nearly pure ecstasy.
However, the screams would have to wait until he tired of her aching whimpers. He contemplated cutting her free and letting her run, so he could capture her once again. Watching her run naked through the trees, scraping herself into a bloody mess would be awfully exciting. Chasing her down again and dragging her back to his torture chamber after that… Well, that would be exquisite.
As he pressed the blade against the sensitive skin above her collarbone, her tears began to fall, sliding over her cheeks and spilling onto her heaving chest where they collected into rivers that turned upside down as they dribbled from the points of her perfect nipples to the filthy floor below.
Wasted tears, he smirked. Beautiful wasted tears. And as he drew the blade across the ropes he’d just tied, the hope that sprung to her eyes was precious. Yes, he would set her free to be captured once again, because the defeat in her expression later would be perfection.
As he sliced through the bondage, she began to fight again, and he loved her for it. Her will and her strength fed something deep within. His ability to overpower her had made him high and he wanted to feel it, again and again.
He almost told her to be still. He almost explained his intentions, but he knew that his silence would be far more frightening than anything else. As her arm was freed, she clawed and struck him, before pulling at the belt around her neck and grabbing the cloth from her pretty mouth. She gasped, deeply to fill her lungs with oxygen, but the stale air inside the camper provided little relief.
She got in a couple good hits and scratches before he slapped her across the face to settle her. She stared, stunned, as he continued to cut loose the ropes that had held her in such exquisite chaos. When he removed the last rope from her ankle, she kicked him and ran, tumbling over herself down the steps beyond the door and screaming wildly.
He laughed, watching her stagger back to her feet and attempt to run through the leaves and fallen branches that surrounded the RV. She tripped several times, and he realized she would not be difficult to track, so he took his time coiling his leftover rope, and donning his backpack of tools.
Setting out after her, he picked up her trail quickly, she had left plenty of evidence of her trajectory. He quickly gained on her and could hear her pained steps and broken breaths. When he realized she’d gone in a circle, he nearly couldn’t stop himself from shouting at her for making it too easy.
But then, just before the clearing that housed his camper, he lost her trail. He searched the tree line to see where she’d re-entered the woods, but found no trace at all. The sun was setting though, and he thought about his night vision camera and his knowledge of his beloved woods. So he relaxed, realizing she just might be easier to track at night.
As he made his way back up the clearing to the rusted and neglected old vehicle, he smiled smugly at himself. This hunt had been incredible. This girl had been even more exciting than the last. This would be a kill he would watch again and again, bringing himself to ecstasy.
And he laughed again as he climbed the steps, planning the hours of blissful torture ahead of him.
When he opened the door, he was startled by her standing there. Oh, she thought she was smart, seeking shelter in the place he shouldn’t have thought to look.
But then, her own smug smile eroded her beautiful face. And he saw it, just before she plunged a massive old kitchen knife deep into his chest.
He stared at it, and the blood that oozed from his shirt. He could taste it, in his mouth and smell the acrid stench of his life essence pouring out of him. Suddenly, the pain was excruciating. He’d never expected this, which made it hurt so much worse.
He looked up and her eyes were wild, there was no longer any fear, just hatred and venom. She pulled the knife out with some force causing the pain to surge, and he lunged for her. She thrust the knife into his abdomen this time, and he felt it tear into his organs and slice down as she held it firmly. He screamed and wretched and gazed, pleadingly at his would be prey turned skilled hunter.
As he fell to the floor, tears searing his eyes, he heard HER laughing. He writhed with the agony he’d wished to inflict on her and felt his life beginning to fade. He looked up at her again and she became quiet.
“You never anticipated that I’d be stronger than you.” Her voice was beautiful, which he hadn’t expected, and he wished he’d given her the chance to plead for her life earlier. Perhaps things would’ve ended differently.
“Who can say?” She whispered, as if reading his mind. As he stared up into the face of this damsel who he had misjudged, he suddenly became aware of the presence of others. Spirits of those who’d gone before her surrounded him as his life gurgled away, drowning in his own blood.
He realized what was about to happen. He clumsily reached out for her ankle, clinging to this little girl who had somehow ended him. “Help me…”
But all he heard in response were the screams of his own tortured soul as his victims enjoyed their just spoils.
Screams that can sometimes still be heard, in that clearing, deep in his beloved woods.
Screams that will last for all of eternity.