Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Writing Challenge Day 3

I'm just skirting in under the wire here.  I revisited and revised a story that I had started a few months ago and promptly abandoned.  Now is as good a time as any to get back to work on it...

Fair warning don't read this if you're squeamish...


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Pete Farmer slowly began to stir from his deep sleep.  He could feel the cold hard concrete beneath the weight of his body.  His head throbbed.  Given the amount of alcohol he had consumed the previous night it was safe to assume that this was his punishment.  It didn’t take long before he realized that this was the worst hangover he had ever experienced in his life, even since college.  It felt like he’d been clubbed over the head and thrown down a flight of stairs.


His eyes tried to adjust, but there was almost no light.  Was it still night? How long had he been passed out... and more importantly, where the fuck was he?  Pete attempted to will his body into motion.  His arms and legs were stiff and protested the movement.  It was at that moment the his half awake brain put two and two together and realized he was naked.  His heart jolted with fear and his breathing became quick and shaking.  New questions arose in his mind...

Something slid across the floor to his left.  Something with weight, almost as if it were being dragged.  Pete sat up quickly and looked around.  There still wasn’t enough light for him to see anything and the pain in his skull tripled with his sudden movement.  

The sound came again.  

A little closer.  

A little louder.  

A hiss followed by a soft gurgle.  

A little closer.  

A little louder.

Pete’s mind raced from one scenario to the next trying desperately to come to some sort of conclusion that would make at least a little sense.  Whatever it was slid a little closer and the hissing and gurgling become more labored.

Something cold touched his leg and he shrieked.

It was soft, almost leathery and damp; like a glove that has been left outside in a cold rain.

Frozen with fright, the idea, whether conscious or subconscious, to scream for help never made it’s way from his brain to his vocal chords.  The cold hand slid it’s way up his leg to his crotch and wrapped itself around him.  He was too frightened to become aroused even in the least and it was only seconds later that he was shoved back to the floor hard striking his head firmly on the concrete.  Dazed and still unable to see anything in the dark he felt the full weight of whatever had hold of his manhood fall upon him.  The grip intensified and began to pull and a pain beyond anything Pete had ever experienced in his life coursed through his entire body.  Finally, his flesh began to tear, his brain connected to his mouth and he screamed.

A groan, a hiss and a gurgle from above his face.  A click and a creaking hinge and a bright light blasted into his eyes from above him.  A figure stood in shadow high above him.

His eyes quickly began to adjust through his pain.  Another shadow.  Larger and just above him.  Whatever it was that was tearing him apart and crushing his chest.  A woman.  Her eyes glazed and white.  Skin ashen and pulled tightly against her cheekbones.  Her hair only in clumps hanging from her scarred head.  Her mouth opened.  Rotting teeth. That was the last thing that Pete  Farmer ever saw.  

The door shut.  The light gone.  Plunged into darkness yet again.

The weight of the rotting woman collapsed on him and he felt the decaying teeth ripping into the flesh of his throat.  His warm blood flowed freely and began to pool around his head and neck.  The woman’s hand ripped at the flesh of this lower belly and quickly penetrated his abdomen.

Pete passed out and never woke up again.


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So... there it is.  please post your comments and critiques below :-)

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