A short story by Cult
Black leather thigh high boots are but a step away from his lowered face. Red leather straps ascend from tiny bronze clasps toward a black ribbed corset highlighted by a solitary crimson lace ribbon pulled taught. It was an outfit accompanied by only a sparse assemblage of thin material to cover modesty. Straight brunette hair falls on either side of a pale neck constricted by a braid of dark material attached to a simple amulet nestled between an ample bosom. A wicked smile pronounced by vivid red lipstick adorns Louise's face. Her eyes and mouth peek from beneath a black harlequin mask.
“Please see fit to punish me, mistress.” He drops his head heavily in shame as he proceeds to inch forward, professionally tailored fabric chafes against cold hard stone as he does so.
The floor is spotless and sterile, that is however, the furthest thing from his thoughts as he lazily drags his open mouth the short distance between his prostrated position and hers. His thick tongue moistened in anticipation of even the slightest touch of her boot mere inches away.
“How dare you even presume to approach without asking permission first?” A blur of movement punctuates the sentence.
A welt materializes instantly and grows angrier by the moment, the first blemish today upon flesh that falls heavy above belted slacks.
”Ahhh! Yes Mistress! Again, I've been vert naughty.”
In her hand's tender grasp she holds a twisted leather handle, smooth to the touch it has been worn down by many uses in a short period of time. It cleaves the air in another rapid descent. A second mark appears inches from the first rapidly blossoming in dissent.
“Another! Punish me!”
Any client who applied for her services (of one kind or another) went through a rigorous screening process administered by a close friend, a member of the local Police department. This is something she insisted upon. It was simple, you relinquished to a background check or you decline, only one choice permits you service of any kind. A troubling background check yields the same declined result. She was yet to encounter any instance where this safety measure had steered her wrong, it was an absolute formality in her business albeit not publicly advertised. Professionalism and unconditional trust was her standard practice.
As a new client he had gladly obliged as they all did. She was never informed of his real name, or any of her clients, only the results. In his case they came back spotless. Client confidentiality was of utmost importance in an undertaking such as this. Louise's legal advising partner, of sorts, devised an agreement that both parties were content with as mutually beneficial. One enjoyed a steady stream of financial rewards, the other a watchful eye to deter detection.
Standing approximately five feet ten dressed in business attire with a slightly balding head her new client was rather unassuming. He looked much like any other professional commuter you might pass on a busy street, if pressed she would guess him to be in his mid forties, married with the requisite two point four children, just an average corporate American male with a penchant for fetishes his wife either wouldn’t perform or he was too embarrassed to speak of with her. One thing stuck with her from his very first visit, the unshakable feeling this was not his first time. He had an air about him that spoke volumes, both of experience and confidence.
Slight pressure on the front of her boot jolts her back to the present. Looking down she knew what to expect, he wants more of course. She flicks her wrist and strikes at the offending creature betwixt her slightly parted legs. He continues to wet the leather of her boot to a high shine with his determined, moist mouth muscle. He doesn't register even the slightest flinch as her blows begin to rain down on his bare back harder and harder with each blow. She starts feather light almost caressing then with the leather strap she continues the assault. She picks up speed, becoming less playful with each blow until the blows are intentionally malicious and wicked. His administering matronly tongue joins the thudding sound.
The pressure abates, a slight pause before his balding pate lifts slightly hovering a fraction of an inch from the glistening saliva shined surface of her boot, “Mistress, please give my deplorable, scrawny hide the attention it's wickedness deserves.”
Louise placed the toe of her boot under her dog's chin lifting his balding head to look up at her. Her boot aimed his face at her though his eyes were still downcast, as they should be. Looking directly at his Mistress was disrespectful and defiant. Mistress allowed neither in here.
“On your knees slug!” With his eyes cast down he does as he is ordered though with some degree of difficulty, “Now turn around maggot!” Shuffling himself crablike he complies, scuffing her designer Tanino Crisci footwear with every movement that he makes, “Lead the way scum.”
Jabbing the tip of the whip into the excess folds of flesh on his lower back, she pushes him forward in the direction of the wall where thick fibrous straps hang haphazardly from a puzzling arrangement of jutting metal.
After a short period of awkward maneuvering, several clicks of restraining clasps, the pulling of levers and some minor final adjustments she looks at the results of her labors. The client hangs suspended upside down about a foot off the ground a short distance from the wall. He is completely naked, she discards his clothes in an untidy heap against the opposing wall. Thick straps crisscross his flesh giving him the appearance of a prized beast on a spit (albeit vertically), the main course in an expansive banquet fit for foreign dignitaries. All that was missing was an apple from his mouth. The configuration renders him unable to move though he is able to talk if his Mistress permits him to do so.
“You look none too comfortable. Please tell me why you think I should punish you. What is it that you have done?”
The answer was always the same, perhaps deviating a little from the normal storyline but never by much. As far as Louise could determine he was a successful professional type but she had no inkling of his area of business.
Curiosity had gotten the better of her recently, not very professional she knew because of her strict confidentiality rules and the expectation anonymity by her as well but there was something about him that she found oddly recognizable, and more than a little intriguing. She had a need to know.
“What should I do about it?” She asked herself over and over.
Her response is much the same as answers surrendered in all the months previous. She began to mentally prepare herself for the deviant activities that would follow. He was her most demanding client requiring a little something different than the norm. She could feel his stare on her tracking her every footstep, slight movement and gesture. She moves to a small iron cage concealed in the shadows affixed to an adjoining wall. She removes the key from the locket around her neck opening the cage she selects the first of the many instruments she’ll be utilizing in this evening's entertainment. She grabs the pair of surgical gloves from a box attached to the underside of the cage pulling them on she gives them a loud snap for her client’s benefit. She then turns her attention to an odd looking contraption inside. She lifts it from the hook it hangs from then recloses the small cage.
“Lllower...” His slight movement makes the tight material of the restraints creak slightly.
She watches her client, who begins to blink rapidly. She slowly slides the razor tipped instrument lower. Lovingly she caresses the smooth bindings and his pale skin teasing him with the glinting steel. Finally she brings it to an abrupt halt on his hairless, exposed genitalia.
“I don't know Louise, I think you should just drop it.”
The Hoagie Depot was famous for it's bread, it's wide selection of on tap ales and friendly counter staff though neither of these are the reason why she and her friend are here. Louise has known the person sitting across from her since high school, romance had never blossomed in all that time though she vividly remembered a time she would've liked it to have.
Kevin was a year younger, had an athletic build and it was painfully obvious to all, due mostly in part to his over exaggerated mannerisms and feminine appearance, that he was only interested in persons of his own gender. Louise knew this to be fact, their relationship was such that he felt trusting enough to confide this revelation to her first. The admission shattered any illusion that their relationship at the time was to be anything more platonic.
“There's something about him, I have an unshakeable feeling that I've seen him before, more than once. I think I may actually know him.” In a fluid motion she stretches across the table grasping Kevin's hands in her own. She made direct, unwavering eye contact pulling him closer.
“Please sweetie it would mean a lot to me.”
Her dinner companion had many talents, most notably the uncanny ability to be able to infiltrate computer systems. The retrieval of the information his best friend was requesting would not pose a problem for his skill set.
Kevin took a deep breath exhaling slowly closing his eyes which broke their locked gaze. As if in inner turmoil he began to gently rock his head from side to side. Louise cracked a smile lovingly squeezing his well manicured and very soft hands in her own. She has seen this before, many times in fact, she had worn him down. She could read him like a book after so many years of trading their most intimate of secrets.
“You mean the double meat creation you just wolfed down in two minutes won't cover it? Hmmm?”
“Well... It's a nice start but not enough, lady, not nearly enough!” They look at each other bursting into laughter, the kind of laughter only true friends like them can.
A shudder vibrates the leather wrapped handle in her grasp bringing her back, once again, to the present. With a sweeping motion she lightly grazes the wrinkled flesh of his flaccid penis with the blade's edge. Goosebumps break out on his skin instantly. The flesh of his thigh is cold against the back of her wrist, its raised hairs give her the creepy sensation of a tiny insect crawling over it.
“Pppush harder... cut me, Mistress. Carve a new orifice from which my wickedness can pour out.”
At times the rhetoric that poured from his mouth scared her. Now was one of those times. Louise often wondered if he may have once served as a preacher though perhaps far removed from the present, a former life even. She applies pressure to the shaft of his rapidly plumping manhood forcing out a soft moan from his lips. The first droplet of liquid crimson drips across the blade flooding the shining silver with vibrant color.
Her first cut is small, a lazy incision really, it would scar along side the many others already there. His throbbing member continued to engorge as she cuts, the scar tissue decorating the surface in rough ridges and valleys. A river of healed lacerations all flowing in the same direction displaying journeyman levels of his deviant masochistic tendencies, all performed in this very room.
Louise removes the metal tip from another shallow penetration; his willing flesh seems to gasp vomiting out a sluggish ejaculate of plasma. Fully erect and exposed his manhood pulses to his bliss. The claret bounces in heavy drops falling from the organ’s swollen tip as it lightly flicks on his abdominal region.
“This punishment cannot reach the heights to which your violations have soared. I have something else in mind, something special just for you, worm.”
Squeezing words through a visage split with an (presently inverted) ear to ear grin he answers, “Something else, Mistress? I’m blessed. Truly honored.”
His last word is punctuated with a rivulet of blood cascading over the contours of his chin traversing a sparse patch of hair the thick liquid slips over his lip straight into his parted mouth. Cloaked in viscous crimson his tongue peeks from between his teeth sweeping in exaggerated motion at the air before it much like a curious serpent. The bindings tight around his suspended form momentarily vibrate as he starts to sway.
In an abrupt dismissive gesture her hand swipes downward and across hard.
The steel occupant in her grasp left a rapidly blossoming trail in its wake, a blazing path of violation. She stepped back avoiding the fine mist that spurted suddenly from the fresh wound. It left a vibrant signature across on the wall a number of feet away much to Louise’s surprise and delight.
The wound continued to widen as she softly laughs to herself. Louise stretches to her full height reaching toward her client's wrapped ankles. She tugs slightly twisting them in her grasp. She stepped back and let go taking a moment to appreciate the beauty of his swaying, twisting cocoon like configuration. It reminds her when as a child she dropped a heavy soda bottle this looked much the same. Only this time it is sweet crimson rather than sugary carbonated liquid under high pressure producing the sticky liquid spray in all directions. A smirk twists her lips nudging the mask covering her face askew with the knowledge that she has far more wickedness in mind for this client.
From her vantage she could clearly see the tool she needs next. A loud retching from the swinging cocoon fails to alter her new found elation. A quick glance back makes her smile more as the puddle beneath her client had now changed from his disgusting drool to a widening expanse of red. Her smirk transforms into a maniacal grin matching that of her mask.
Louise is so elated, gone is the awkwardness that usually accompanied walking in heels. She had a new found bounce in her step, in a moment she stands before the cabinet once more. Each unique implement is either tethered, hooked or hanging. Each has its own place and specific deviant purpose. She wiped the soiled instrument now in her grasp carefully placing it back into it's allotted space. She normally reserved this duty until the appointment’s end but this evening was different. She is in no particular rush and her client wasn't in any position to complain or leave.
“Yea, this better be important!” The phone had woken her up harshly her only thought was that it was only four in the damn AM!
She had hoped it was a wrong number pulling her pillow firmly over her head. She hoped the person at the other end would realize their mistake, especially at this ungodly hour, and ring off. That didn't happen. She lost count how many times the phone rang jangling incessantly. She thought her neighbors probably hadn’t. That thought made her finally relinquish begrudgingly. She thought the caller had better be a lawyer telling her a long lost relative had passed resulting in her now being able to live 'The Good Life'! Alas she knew she didn't have any long lost relatives let alone a fortune up for grabs.
“Who the fuck is this? Can you not hear me? Dammit, it's freakin four AM!”
“Louise? Sorry I was driving under a bridge, lost you for a second.”
“This is more important.”
More important than his latest fling? At four in the morning? She knew something was definitely up.
“That uhhh, client you had me look into.” There was an unsteady nervousness in his voice.
“That was just yesterday.”
“Yea I got bored and I worry about you.”
“Tha…!” Before she could finish even a solitary word of her appreciation Kevin interrupted her.
“Apparently I have good reason... Move! Get the fuck out of there! Do whatever you have to do but get the fuck outta there.” His panic scared her.
“Who the hell is he, Kevin? What do you mean leave?” Louise couldn’t hide her confusion. Kevin could be overdramatic but she had never heard him like this.
“Big fucking trouble would be an understatement! I fear for my safety to even utter his name over the phone. Just get out of there Louise. Now!” He was out of breath, stumbling over his words in an effort to get them out faster.
He he had been understandably stressed when finally deciding it was time to come out to her but not like this, “Kevin, stop joshin' me. He can't be that damn bad.” Only silence. Worry set in her head, “Kevin?” She paused, still no answer from him, “Kevin?” Still nothing, a complete absence of sound. She listened hard trying to will something, anything even just Kevin breathing into the receiver. The slightest background noise would be welcome but there was just nothing. Had the call been severed somehow? She thought then her own panic set in, “KEVIN!”
She was wide awake now leaping from her rumpled bed sheets. She looked around wildly for a pair of jeans to throw on in case she had to drive somewhere. Where was he?
The phone in her hand suddenly barked with static. “ ..ou there? Damn underpass! Louise I love ya girl. Please get the fuck outta there! If you hear me just leave, now!”
“Damn, I was freaking out for a second. Where are you anyway? It's awfully damn late.” She suspected where he was but she was attempting to lighten the tone of their conversation somehow.
Louise’s jaw drops with the sudden squealing of tires followed by the sickening crunch of metal connecting at high speed giving a cacophonous soundtrack of destruction to her best friend’s last words. She dropped the phone as the connection is lost. The dial tone screams at her unnoticed from the carpeted floor as she slumps into a fetal position at the edge of her bed burying her face in her hands to stifle her scream as the tears began to flow.
Louise is in no hurry approaching the suspended still form of the client. Her gaze is cast down in admiration to the freshly picked tool she lazily caresses in her palm. Then he speaks halting her in her tracks.
“Silly child.” His words are barely audible but he continues, “Do you not think I know your intentions?” As he speaks he slowly rotates on his restrained axis forming two concentric circles of his fluids directly beneath him. He leaves an unintentional but vivid target of splattered vomit and blood. “You have pierced and lacerated my flesh many times before but only by my request... my consent.” He falls into an abrupt choking fit causing him to pause briefly. The sluggish line of a crimson avalanche descends over his chin outlining the sudden appearance of a sinister grin. Finally able, he continues, “These playful antics, they hint at something more, don’t they? Do you believe that you’re bestowing upon mankind some great service by ridding them of me? Stupid bitch.” His rotation suddenly ceases. The only movement now is the slow drip of his viscous claret from his slightly parted lips. His smile replaced by a fixed grimace he continues, “You have no idea who I am child! Do not presume to think that you do. That would be another grave mistake on your part. One you will pay dearly for.”
Louise doesn’t answer. Her fingers twist a metal dial on the tool in her grasp adjusting it. Its rubber grip warms as she slowly approaches her now silent client. She is careful not to slip in the steaming mess he has left. She leans over him awkwardly with her legs spread trying to plant each firmly on a relatively bare patch of stone. She slides a hand between the cords of flat stretched fabric parting his opaque flesh lifting her other hand with the tool toward the meager opening she had made. She grins as he gasps at the cold steel of the speculum pushes at the tight flesh opening of his anal sphincter. Louise slowly applies pressure pushing the device in to its full length being sure to wedge it firmly inside him only beginning to stretch his rectum. His sphincter tightens flexing pointlessly unable to stop her, the grin returns to Louise’s face. His continued grunts and uncomfortable twitching only widens her grin back to maniacal proportions, “I know.” She gives her best sarcastic motherly soothing, “Try to relax scum. We’ve done before but this time I seem to have misplaced the lube. So sorry, worm. I did, however, find this.” Putting a hand behind her back she retrieves a small rectangular tin. She shakes it for him producing a slight splashing sound, “You are very lucky worm, it appears we have just a smidge left.” She gives him a shocked look to go with her over the top mother’s voice.
Louise lifts the can to eye level tilting it. The tin clinks dully as she purposefully makes contact with steel speculum leaving her upside down client not doubt about what she’s doing. The small cruelty only increases her grin as she fights the urge to cackle like a man woman. “Cheers fucker!” She nods at him mockingly in a feigned salute before tipping the can into the orifice spread alarmingly wide as if in a parody of a yawn. She clinks the tin against the sides of the surgical instrument so there is no mistake about what she is doing to him. She is quickly disappointed with the tin’s contents annoyingly slow exodus. She squeezes the can to speed the procedure noting how the can's sides buckle and flex inwards, “Hey, this can is acting just like your puckered insides!” She could no longer hold back a maniacal cackle from escaping her lips. The inverted form suddenly goes deathly still.
I think I killed him! He didn’ t bleed that much, did he? Maybe I should check for a pulse or something. Louise thought to herself.
Removing her hand from the speculum's rubber grips she reaches around grabbing his groin. Louise gently cups the hanging wrinkled sack in her cold emotionless blue gloved hand. She singled out a solitary testicle which she squeezed hard while trying to locate the cord like structure of the vas deferens squeezing that also. Her grip is vise like applying increasing pressure to his little bits.
A barely perceivable noise began, unnoticed at first, like air escaping a ruptured tire emitting from her inverted client. Then the foul odor hits Louise’s olfactory receptors forcing her to turn her head giving him an involuntarily nose wrinkle of disgust. In retribution she dramatically increases the pressure of her grip until there is an audible Pop! Satisfied, Louise smiles with delight relinquishing her hold on his now mushy sack uttering, “Ahhh, now you’re truly a useless man. You awake? Either you’re dead or you are indeed one sick fuck!” She gives his ass a smack for good measure to make sure.
The flesh nearest Louise's hand transforms to an odd pallor replacing its previous near opaque paleness. She twitches her arm in shock sending the empty tin of lighter fluid flying. It hits the stone floor with a hollow metallic clank. Stepping back trying to be careful not to slip in the various bodily fluids on the floor, Louise watches in fascination as her bound client is rapidly consumed by what looks to be some unknown creeping invader. In a matter of seconds his entire body loses all vibrance or semblance of being human. Once pale skin transmorphed to a dull, slimy sheen its consistency like meat exposed to the elements. She looks down seeing a head now peculiarly absent of hair. Rapid movement catches her eye, a thick, bloated protuberance shoots between his slimy lips. Its motions cease as it reaches his now wide, blood splattered nostrils.
It was like watching two slithering snails embrace and maneuver against each other suggesting some whispered words. It was a silent diatribe of rapid movement which she could only guess was some long string of curses. Distracted for a moment, Louise rubbed at her arm sore from the unanticipated collision with the hard stone wall. She wills her body to get up but it refuses her commands. A loud smack yanks her back to the form hanging in the center of the room. His eyes now ablaze with a sickly yellow glow, his head rapidly shakes as if in seizure.
“Bitch!” His snail like lips seem partly digested. He’s chewing at them while simultaneously pulling at the torn sinewy threads that remain, continuing, “You think you are sooo fucking clever! Your fag thought he was clever too! You should’ve seen the look on his stupid fag face as I pulled him by those beautiful golden locks screaming from the wreckage. It was priceless bitch!” His vile words are as vile as his appearance.
“Wha…!” Shock renders Louise's vocal chords inoperable.
The slimy thing continues, “He looked like a god with those locks. What a pity I had to shred them from his head with my teeth. Oh, how he screamed! A banshee being violated in all ways would pale in comparison! I tore him apart, you cunt. I tore him apart slow all because of you filthy whore.”
“Kevin!?!” The vile beast’s words were like living that night all over again only worse with the knowledge of what this thing had done. The memories flooded her brain while a tsunami rolled down her cheeks.
“My how that faggot did scream! I knew I should have recorded that for you. He tasted so good I couldn’t even save you a juicy morsel. Ever had raw fag, bitch?” His body feverishly gyrated sending mucous and spittle flying everywhere.
The bindings began to shake in a cacophony of metallic squawks scraping and shifting his fabric confines. The sound reverberates through the cold basement room. Louise believed the fabric and metal structure would hold up to the pressure. It had been specially designed to meet her strict, perhaps overzealous, requirements prior to its first use. The integrity of the wall, however, was a different matter entirely as she was beginning to see.
“My you are a pretty cunt. Now I really can’t understand why that shithole lover of yours wouldn't want to tongue your sweet cunny hole instead! I do bitch, dead or alive. I will.”
“Shut up!” Her heels slide in the mess fluids engulfing the floor.
“Ahhh, he wouldn't have been able to please you though slut. His cock was so tiny. It was, shall I say, bite size! I barely tasted it!”
Louise’s hands were shaking so bad she fumbled with the thin laces of her boots. She knew her exit would only be attained sans heels in the slippery mess of the floor. She tries to concentrate willing her fingers to work faster while attempting to ignore the hatred spewing from the vile thing suspended a few feet away.
“If I had my way I would tear your pissing hole until it was unrecognizable! Oh, I long to empty my sack into you filling you with my steaming seed. You may not like it, they’re vicious little squirmers. Or maybe you’re into that, you filthy cunt!”
Louise had one lace undone her digits still surprisingly deft in her panicked state. They drift swiftly down the length boot and with a few shuffling motions she finally peels it off. The thing's blazing, sickly yellow gaze firmly affixes on her though the head still vibrates rapidly. Its gaze remains constant and unblinking like a cat hunting a mouse waiting for the perfect time to pounce. Louise accidentally makes eye contact with the freshly removed boot still in hand. She tosses it viciously toward him cleaving the air over the short distance between herself and her intended target.
“I'd love to pull your useless whore legs off slowly while your cock swallowing friend watches! I would have remove the pillow biter’s eyelids lest he try to look away!” The boot's sharpened, elongated heel reaches its objective momentarily halting his verbal assault. Ocular fluid seeps from the punctured cornea but the tirade continues unphased. The macabre tableau appears oddly comical to her. The polished boot flops from side to side in synchronized accompaniment to the entities constant, feverish head movements. Seemingly unaffected his ranting continues, “Then I would rip poor fag Kevin’s arms off, drag his armless, legless dripping torso in front of you and fuck him with his face smothered in your gaping whore cunt still leaking my vile seed! You should have known who you were fucking with you cunt!”
Louise enjoyed her short lived little victory almost laughing at how comical the thing looked with the heel of her boot stuck in his eye socket. Her now sockless foot makes contact with a splatter pattern of technicolor vomit stealing any humor she found in the situation. Reality had bitch slapped her hard directing her attention back to her remaining boot. She glanced up briefly seeing her discarded one plummet from the thing’s eye finally joining the puddle of congealing sickness though to her delight it was dragging a passenger of optic nerve with it.
Finally with a triumphant yell Louise manages to yank her remaining boot free quickly tossing it aside. She can finally attempt her exit from this vile pig.
“Come over here and fist me bitch! You know the thought makes you soaking wet. I know what kind of filthy cunt whore you are. Your fag told me all about you bitch!”
“Fuck you! What the fuck sort of abomination you are, FUCK YOU!” She tore her ripped gloves off with a flourish scrambling to her feet.
She staggers slightly as a wave of nausea hits her. The room doubles as a basement being absent any window, ventilation is meager at best. It is currently not cutting it in removing the permeating stench emanating from the floor's impromptu covering.
“Are you gonna hurl? That putrid shade of green looks good on you. It really brings out the diseased cunt in your eyes. How’s that for a compliment, Cunt! Would you like me to rub your back? Maybe whisper sweet things into your whore ear? Like your Uncle Rodney used to. You remember sweet Uncle Rodney, don’t ya?” Without lips the smile that creeps across his face appears more like a snarl.
How the fuck does he know about that?
The vile beast won’t stop, “Oh yes, he was the best kind of deviant. A dirty defiler of innocence. You never did tell your parents. You stood at his grave smiling under your hood whilst everyone else sobbed in the rain. There's a special place reserved for you when you finally perish but I think you already know that. Warm your cunt up it’s gonna be one long eternity for you bitch!”
A squelching noise accompanies her every footstep as Louise approaches a darkened corner of the room. She has only one objective in mind caring not about where her feet land. This ordeal would soon be over she thought.
“I would say I can smell your cunt, but that cliché has been used to death. Fucking Exorcist! You know that’s beyond bullshit right? Hollywood fucktards!” She walks past the form who was once her client without a single glance. “What's wrong Bitch? Don’t want me anymore? Don’t want the best paying client your whore ass ever had?”
“Do you seriously think that will hurt me? Imbecilic bitch, do you know anything? You still have no fucking clue who I am!”
“You forget one thing.” In a swift movement Louise grasps her former client's ankles, with the other she reaches for the speculum’s rubber handles protruding at a strange angle from his ass, “Fire in the hole, bitch!” The surgical steel arms of the speculum flash a brilliant orange as the fiery match falls inside the vile beast’s shadowy inner depths.
An abrupt plume of searing blue flame momentarily blinds Louise throwing her back off balance. She frantically waves her arms struggling to maintain an upright position with her bare feet sliding on the floor. She watches as with a seemingly superhuman effort the thing before her starts to buck and fold into itself swinging back and forth in an arc. A sinewy snapping noise brings up Louise's worst fears. The thing she has been dreading for the last few moments, that this thing was indeed no longer human.
“Oh! That kinda smarts.” Louise is slightly amused at the blackened smoke belching out from the struggling thing’s mouth as well as his nostrils in lazy plumes. “Sure I've known heartburn before but this is taking the piss!” His spastic gyrations suddenly cease as the he comes to rest looking like an inverted question mark. His forehead was tight against his lower back with his neck starting to twist. The sound of popping of vertebrae sent shivers up her spine as she finally moved away from the charring spectacle before her. The vile form's head rotated as its single remaining phosphoric eye diligently followed her progress. “Ah, don't leave, bitch! I'm starting to get the hots for ya!”
With her foot firmly on the final step and her hand resting on the exit door's handle, Louise turns back to the thing just in time to see it wink at her through its now charred, blackened features. A final gesture that lacks both an eyeball, the tissue and the muscles needed for its success yet he managed it anyway. A milky viscous liquid drips from one side of its face leaving the skull devoid of sight with the exit of its good eye.
The restraints smolder, imprinting their texture on pink raw flesh. Thick metal chains elicit black smoke taking on the appearance of tarnished dull bronze. The configuration still held tight.
“I'll see ya later Louise, I promise. This was fun! We should do it again sometime. Call me!”
Abruptly the entity uncurls, as if mimicking a spring it snaps straight with a shudder, the force rips the heavy metal anchor from its position on the wall.
Plummeting to the stone floor the form's skull produces a sickening sound upon contact as it shatters. Oozing between jagged shards of bone grey matter it follows the path designated by the contours of a discarded boot's glinting heel.
As Louise leaves she takes a deep breath closing the door softly behind her.
She fails to notice the slithering tiny black mass that crawls from the smoldering ear canal. Its movements are both awkward and sluggish. In a matter of minutes it has reached the iron staircase, the scent is still strong. It is going to be a very long night.