That being said, this is a story that lives up to its title (A Gruesome Short Story) in many ways. If you are easily offended, or easily disturbed/sickened in any way by events that may unfold under the category "Gruesome," you might want to skip over this post, as it is easily the most gruesome work I have ever written.
Also, There may be some typos in this, as It is 12:30 in the morning. If you see any, feel free to drop a line, and list a couple, so I can fix them up. If you read, and were offended, refer to the message above.
Thank you.
The air of the night was warm against the killer's face. Sweat was lightly beaded on his forehead as he peeered through the ground floor window of a large house, feet getting tired from holding him in the awkward position. The killer, though wanted for various murders, felt justified in his killings. The killer was no killer; he was a savior.
With the rate of date rapes skyrocketing around the world, The killer had decided to take matters into his own hands, and stop the insidious act as it happened, one case at a time.
The living room through the window held an erotic scene, and looking thorugh the window seemed almost like watching it on a big T.V.
Within, in the cool air of the house (the condensing unit, placed not ten feet from the killer's position was running, and had been for over an hour) sat the two young people, male and femal, both around eighteen or nineteen, making out. The killer knew the man within to be overzealous. Upon following the couple, He had observed the man making moves that were obviously not appropriate for a first date.
And there he goes.
The male began making some very extreme moves, running his hands up the girls shirt. The girl began to retreat from his touch, but he grabbed her violently. He said some, the killer could see his lips moving, and then began tearing her clothing away.
The killer had seen enough. From within his black tench coat, he unhooked a hammer from his belt, and made his way to the front door. The door was locked, so he quickly ran around to the rea, where there was a small patio, with a sliding glass door. The door was unlocked, so He slid it open slowly, and stepped in.
There were slightly muffled screams coming from the front room, and then some harsh commands to, "shut the fuck up." The killer, hair rising on the back of his neck, moved toward the front room, half lifting the hammer in a ready position to pull back and swing in a seconds notice. The hallway from the kitchen - the first room inside the patio door - was dark, with some closed doors on either side, and the light of the living room directly ahead.
The air was indeed cool, and the sweat on the killer's brow had turned cool. Nevertheless, the killer, in his heightened tension, was still sweating hard, and the sweat was on the verge of dripping. He pulled a ski mask from the pocket in his coat, and wipe the sweat with it, and put it on. The silence was broken, now, only by the yelps of the girl, and the cursing of the male.
Reaching the end of the hallway, the killer peeked around the corner, and saw that the male was now naked, and was completely in control of the girl.
Ski mask on, and concealing his features, the killer crouched, and began making his way toward the sofa, from the rear. He could only see the man's arched back over the back of the sofa, which was proof enough he was too preoccupied to see the killer.
The man raping Stephanie Remley was strong. Too strong for her to take action to stop him. She screamed for her life as the filthy lecher took advantage of her, smacking her and punching her every once in a while, telling her to shut up. Everything seemed to be moving incredibly fast at first, but since it started, it seemed to move very, very slowly. Stephanie tried to zone out, and not feel anything as the rapist - her date for the night - Joseph Freudman grew more violent, punching harder, and smacking with more force.
Stephanie was afraid for her life.
The killer's pulse had increased significantly, his veins felt hot with boiling blood as he reached the back of the sofa, hammer in hand, ready to beat the living shit out of the man. His brain was pouring adrenaline into his system, and he felt his weapon hand begin to shiver a little, in anticipation of the kill. As he roase, the killer felt his temple pulsing, and he raised the hammer, ready to pound the brains out of the seething filth.
Stephanie let out a blood curdling shriek as the man clothed in a black trench coat and ski mask rose and became visable from her position on the couch - on her back, facing up. The man's eyes, black and angry had a murderous cast to them, as the hammer came down with blinding speed, toward an unsuspecting Joseph's head. Stephanie screamed as the everything took on red.
- POP - there was a dull popping sound as the hammer left a crater in the back of the man's skull. Even before the man fell forward, blood spraying the woman below him, who was scrambling to get away, the hammer was raised again, blunt, bloody head shining red. Without hesitation, the killer swung again - POP - and the crater became an open pit, displaying the man's brain stem, oozing and ruined. Then, the killer felt his legs carrying him toward the back door, scrambling out, slamming it shut as he went.
Stephanie hardly believed what she saw. The man who had raped her, now dead. She averted her eyes to the man quickly fleeing the scene. There was blood everywhere. The beautiful sofa had taken on a red hue, and Stephanie's nake body was covered in red plats, and streaks. It all came rushing back, and hit her like a ton of bricks. Stephanie didn't stop screaming until the police arrived thirty minutes later. She just sat there, staring at the man's wrecked head, then to her bloody, naked body, screaming harder and harder until the EMT's arrived, and administered a tranquilizer. The world spun, and Stephanie Remley spun with it until she fell inot a deep, deep coma.
To be continued, I think...
No comments:
Post a Comment