There is nothing quite like the shooting sharp pain of stubbing your big toe. The pain shoots up the foot, explodes in the ankle burning as it traverses up the leg on its way to tell your brain what has happened. All of this happens quicker than can even be perceived yet a millisecond after ramming your toe into a table or chair leg the pain sets in as though a bomb has exploded in the toe’s tip. Everyone knows the pain of stubbing their toe, how it burns and throbs as though the toe may burst at any second. When it happens it seems that there isn’t a worse pain in the entire universe that even compares to it yet there is pain far beyond the mere stubbing of a toe. No matter how many times Jason experienced it; it never made it any less painful.
He had lost track of the days. Had it been weeks? Maybe it was months even years now. There was no concept of time in this place. This small white room was eternal. There was no concept of time here. There were no days or nights just waking then the pain would begin. The little bastards always started at the toes working their way up saving the final blow between his eyes until his body was a ruin. Some went slower than others but always the same result. He felt every blow, every bone smashed, every muscle pulverized; he felt it all again and again and again. This was the hell of Jason Thorendal.
Every time Jason opened his eyes he expected to be back in his own plush queen size bed on top of his silk sheets under a warm down comforter. Reality never failed to remove the smile from his lips. It was always the same: wake feeling alive for a split second before staring up at the white ceiling of this tiny white room that was just large enough for the bed he was strapped to with a walkway for the little bastards who tormented him. By the end of each session the white room was stained a dark crimson dotted with chunks of his discarded flesh flung from the hammer as it was swung with unbelievable ferocity from the tiny hands that wielded it. The only comfort here was the swing that ended it only to start again, his body made whole once more to endure it again.
Jason did not know how he came to be here but as for the why he had no doubt. Any doubt he might have had was taken away with each recognized face that appeared to punish him for his grave transgressions in the life he had before the white room. He had never been a social person before this place but he had never felt more secluded than he did here. The little faces never talked to him. They never cursed him for the things he had done. One by one they appeared before him to unmake him. It was always the same, a smile from former victim to current victim then the beating would begin.
The white of the room was electric as though the walls and ceiling weren’t painted but lit with brilliant bright light. He had attempted on more than one occasion to close his eyes quickly pretending not yet to be awake but it was useless. They always knew he was conscious. All closing his eyes did was remove the smiling face from them. That was little consolation.
He began to wonder if he was still alive having gone insane or if this was truly hell. How was he to ever know? He could be locked in a padded cell drugged into oblivion or he could be dead in hell or this could just be a nightmare. There was no way to know. He could do nothing but endure. The pain left little room for any other feeling yet still there was the overwhelming solitude. It never left him once he opened his eyes to begin again. No one was coming to his rescue him. No one was coming to save him. There was no doubt in his mind that he did not deserve saving. The pain was only company, never to leave for all eternity. He had never considered consequences but in here there was nothing else.
Jason opened his eyes, his body made whole again. Little Susie Hagstrom appeared beside him, looked him dead in the eye but didn’t smile. They had always smiled but Susie just stared into his pupils as though mesmerized by something she saw there. She did not reach for the hammer, only stared as though looking at something profound. He stared back wondering what it could be. She still didn’t smile or grab the tool of his demise as Jason tried to find his voice. He had done nothing but scream for what felt like eons now; he was unsure if he’d recognize his own voice if he could find it. He tried but no sound at all escaped his lips just an animalistic tongue click.
Susie placed one tiny, fragile finger to his lips, “Shhhh.”
The overwhelming seclusion vanished instantly in that shush, the first sound he had heard from another in ages. He had no idea why she was different, he was just glad he didn’t feel alone for a moment. Still Susie made no move to pick up the hammer just staring into his eyes looking at or for something he knew not which. A wave of hope rolled through him, perhaps this was all over. Had he come to the end of the nightmare? Was his torture finally over? He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt anything other than fear and pain while praying for a death that never really came. Jason couldn’t help get his hopes up; it was the first to visit him in this place. He hoped that either he was waking from this nightmare or at a minimum his suffering had reached its end. He cared not which as long as it was one or the other.
He remembered cutting little Susie. They were only tiny cuts at first but those never satisfied him for long. Tiny slices became huge gashes until there wasn’t room for more. He slit her throat as he had with all the others, just as he climaxed one last time. He used to laugh to himself that he came and they went. Little Susie Hagstrom had been no different than any of his others. She stood there staring at him now and all he could hope is that she had somehow forgotten what he had done. He could say the words “I’m sorry” but he didn’t feel them, making it a lie if he even attempted it. Perhaps that is why she had shushed him, so that he wouldn’t have to lie. Jason had loved every second he spent with his little pets and they had shown him so far that they knew. But for now he wasn’t alone, little Susie had touched him and spoke to him, sort of, and that was enough. She was another presence that for the moment didn’t seem intent on his destruction, at least not yet. His lips curved up involuntarily enjoying the tiny finger pressed to his lips.
His smile was apparently what Susie had been waiting for. Her eyes widened and for a moment he thought she was about to speak but instead her hand raised from his lips to smack him across the cheek feeling like an iron skillet whacking into him. His cheek burned from the slap, Susie’s little red handprint raised on his skin. She still made no move to pick up the hammer that lay by his side on the table. Susie placed her finger back against his lips, Jason was just glad to feel the touch of another human being in this hell. His heart raced with the anticipation that his torment might be over but this time he was wise enough not to smile.
Susie stared deep into his eyes once more as if still looking for something. She leaned in very close until Jason could feel her breath on his nose. He wanted to ask her what she was looking for but dared not speak again. She pulled his eyelids apart spreading them wider than they could go naturally, exposing as much of the veiny sclera as she could. She kept staring as if she would find something previously unseen in the void of his pupil, nothing but black stared back at her. Susie pinched her lips furrowing her eyebrows in a look of frustration and disappointment. In another time and place that would have been considered an extremely cute look but Susie was dead, Jason had killed her and disposed of her broken body many years ago.
Susie’s cute look of disappointment turned to a smile returning hope to Jason’s thoughts but it was short lived. Susie pulled a scalpel from the small pocket of her blue dress with the yellow polka dots. Her face contorted from the innocent eight year old girl in a flash to the horror of something beneath that facade. Her skin appeared taut and leathery, her perfect little white teeth turning to a mouth full of jagged fangs jutting out awkwardly in all directions, her nose disappeared altogether while her eyes grew large and jet black. The image was there and gone with barely time for Jason’s eyes to register what they had seen. Susie’s head reared back in laughter that was not her own as hope turned to fear for Jason. This was not the end at all.
Any thought of Susie’s innocence faded away permanently with her next move. She placed her left hand on Jason’s forehead holding his head still with a force impossible from someone her size then with two quick precise swipes of the scalpel removed the eyelids from his left eye. She leaned in close staring into his exposed eye again. She leaned back a bit shaking her head in disgust then whispered in his ear, “You watch.”
She lifted his head up by the hair placing a block under it to hold it up. Unable to close his eye to his torment he watched as the once sweet little girl went to work on him with the scalpel. She started slow with tiny little slices, no more than paper cuts, down his chest and abdomen. He watched as she took her time poking the point gently into his flesh making little slices about an inch long barely deep enough to bleed. Strapped down, unable to move there was nothing Jason could do but watch feeling every slice, there were hundreds now. He was almost glad for the departure from the hammer though he knew in the back of his mind this was going to be much worse.
His exposed eye was drying out, the oddest feeling he had ever experienced. It burned like a grape being dried in the sun to a raisin. The orbital muscles kept trying to blink a missing eyelid while his pupil took in all the horror his angelic little torturer had in store for him. She set the razor down beneath his chin giving him a pat on the head like a puppy then moved behind him. Jason could hear her fumbling with something then her hand reached from behind him pulling is lower jaw down hard and fast. A round ball slammed into his mouth before he had time to think, his eye bulging as she strapped it in tight.
Jason felt her lean forward her tiny little lips pressed to his ear, “Now the fun begins.”
How something that appeared so sweet and innocent could be so wickedly evil still amazed him every time. He didn’t know how many times he had been destroyed with the hammer now. His body pulverized from the tips of his toes, always the toes first, every bone and muscle crushed until that final blow right between the eyes only to wake, who knew how long later, to a body whole once more for it to begin again. Jason Thorendal was here alone to suffer he knew not for how long, all he knew was that he was alone with nothing and no one coming to save him. He was being taught how he had made so many others feel others who were too young to cope with the hopelessness he brought them. He had driven many of them insane before the end; he was not afforded such a luxury.
The angelic little Susie moved back around him with her hands full. He recognized the container of salt she carried, the bottle of clear liquid he could only assume was rubbing alcohol or maybe lemon juice. He never thought he would long for the hammer but he did now. She set the salt and bottle of liquid down at his side retrieving the scalpel once more. She wasn’t done yet.
The tiny torturer took her time making her little slices leaving none of his flesh unscathed. She started to sing as she rubbed the salt in admiring her handiwork. Jason recognized the tune as easily he would have “Happy Birthday”, little Susie was singing “Jesus Loves Me” with perhaps the most evil little grin on her face he had ever seen. She kept shooting wicked little glances at him before rubbing the salt into every little slice she had made. His skin felt as though it would burst into flames, the hammer started to seem like a happy dream when she reached his genitalia. She had been careful to make as many little slices there as she possibly could. Each and every one was meticulously filled with salt then she poured the liquid, which turned out to be rubbing alcohol, like napalm on an already well stoked blaze.
The little innocent girl he had once tortured, raped and killed stared at him with the hate of a thousand souls then smiled at him, raised the scalpel for him to see his blood dripping down the surgical steel blade over her tiny fingers down onto the table between his skinless feet. Continuing to stare at him she squeezed one of the raw toes giving it a painful twist. The pain shot up his leg like lightning. He would have sucked the ball gag straight down his throat if it wasn’t strapped in place.
Susie let the dull edge of the blade ride along the raw skin as she walked the length of the table. She had made no cuts to his face other than removing his eyelids though it was a small reprieve to say the least. The blade skipped and hopped over the innumerable slices filled with salt loosely held between her fingers as she meandered slowly up the table staring with evil coyness as she went.
Reaching his shoulders she stopped still staring him dead in the eyes. She gently set her scalpel down beside him. The evil hate filled look on her face now gone replaced by the sweet innocence that she had embodied before she had met Jason Thorendal. She reached up running her fingers down his cheek as tenderly as a lover. For a moment Jason thought a tear might come trickling down her rosy cheek making him feel absolute shame at what he had done to her. She bent down gently kissing him on the forehead flooding his mind with all the nasty perverted things he had once done to her. The hopelessness lifted from his mind momentarily with a brief thought that it might be over now.
Susie Hagstrom leaned down getting close to the man that had murdered her repulsed by his scent. She was nothing more than a messenger in this place and it was time for her to deliver her message, “This is no nightmare. This is only the beginning. He likes to watch you suffer. You have no idea how long eternity is but he’ll be watching as you learn.” Her message delivered, little Susie walked back to his skinned feet covering him in rubbing alcohol as she went. She shot him one last look of disgust lit a match then disappeared from the cell. The match fell setting Jason Thorendal ablaze.
The demon looked down on them, all the lost souls brought to him to watch suffer. His little rats in their little cages that he got to poke, prod and play with. They all came to him; the molesting priests, the rapists, the child molesting scum, the men who beat their wives and girlfriends, all the destroyers of innocence. The scum of the earth were his playthings. Not one knew of another, each here in their private little hells. This was his dominion with one simple, clear task: punishment. The six hundred sixty six eyes of the demon saw all in his dominion. He never missed one delicious scream nor one sweet torment. This task was his delight. The demon’s name was Surveillance, overseer of suffering for the worst the living world could conjure up. He brought them an eternity of pain; they brought to him an eternity of pleasurable observance.