Monday, September 30, 2013

PROMPT 1- darkNnerdy



“First day?” The night guard asks as I walk by, sleeping bag in hand.

I duck my head and nod. “Is it like this for everyone?”

“Been here twenty years. We’ve all had to do it.”

“Anything I should know?” I look at my reflection in the glass of the double doors.

“The building’s old. Don’t let the noises freak you out. Other than that.” He presses the button and the doors break apart. “You should be fine. Get some sleep.”

“Thanks.” I watch him walk down the hall and get into the elevators, leaving me by myself.

Sort of.

The smell of disinfectant burns my nose and the icy chill makes my blood run cold. I’ve been in here countless times, observed and done my grunt work. I’ve watched Doctor Cullen dissect numerous bodies, and yet, I still get the creeps anytime I’m down here.

I feel like a kid as I stare at the metal boxes lined along the far wall. My fingers brush each handle, and skim over the name plates.

There are a dozen bodies in here with me.

Car wrecks. Suicide. Homicide.

Their blood sits at the bottom of the drain, mixed with hair and feces.

Organs have been weighed and measured.

Blood drawn and samples taken.

I can still remember the first time I cut into a body. The skin giving way like butter against the sharp steel of my scalpel. Flaying it open, my fingers inside, detaching what little was left.

The feel of a human heart in my hands, cold and dead.

The life gone, the bones on display just for me.

I shiver and a cold smile lightens my dark mood. I switch off the lights until the only thing illuminated is a desk in the far corner.

I tuck myself into my sleeping bag and I eye each of the name plates before drifting off.

I dream of death, the feeling on my hands, the smell of the body as it decomposes.

I dream of my reality. Of the insides of a human body. The muscles, the tendons, the nerves.

I dream of my saw banging against the table. Of blood spatter across my clear mask and brain matter covering my black gloves.

“Come play with me.” I  blink down at the corpse’s mouth as it moves and begin to sew her up.

“Edward,” she whispers. I drop my needle, falling back until I hit the floor.

“Holy shit!” I wake up trying to untangle myself from my bag. My eyes are wide and sweat soaks my hair as I push myself off the floor and look around.

The whispering sounded so real, so close to me.

I press my palms to my eyes, trying to calm my heart as it races inside my chest.

“I’m going to kill those assholes for this,” I mumble, checking the clock on the wall. “Two AM. Great.”

I walk toward the light switch, trying to shake my haze, and freeze.

Box number three, the one Carlisle worked on before I started my shift, is open. The door bangs against the steel and a toe tag hangs over the edge.

It was closed. When I shut my eyes, all of them were closed.

I try to swallow the lump in my throat as I look at the door. The light on the inside is red and my keycard is tucked into my pocket.

I grab the door, looking for a spring or fingerprints on the glossy metal, but find nothing. Only the toes of a victim and a cold puff of air when I close the door.

I shove the handle down, locking it, just as something begins to bang inside.

Screams follow, and then the sound of something thrashing against the steel table echoes around the room. The noise bounces inside my head, making my entire body shake as it becomes louder.

Harder.

Faster.

“Shut up!” I scream trying to get a hold of myself. It doesn’t stop.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“God damn it, Carlisle. If that’s you so help me.”

Bam. Bam. Bam.

“Fuck!” I close my eyes and with every slam I jump. “Fine. If you get punched, it’s your own damn fault,” I yell, but the sounds become harsher and someone inside begins to scream.

It makes my blood run cold and my spine ache.

I reach for the door and pull it open, letting it bang. I take a few steps back.

All I see is dark. All I hear are the sounds of screaming before it suddenly stops.

“Carlisle?” I lean forward and the toe tag shakes. “Just… fucking stop, okay?”

I reach for the toe, ready to pull, to yank him out and beat the hell out of him, but I hesitate.

My eyes go wide as a knee moves forward, and then hands. Fingers appear, one by one, grabbing the lip of the door and pulling the table out until there is nothing but a dead girl.

Her body is grey, withered and bruised. Her eyes are milky white, tinged with blue. Her lips are a deep purple, they crack as she smiles up at me, her feet dangling over the edge.

“Well hello, beautiful.” I fall back into the table as she lifts herself up, her feet smacking the floor. “Did he scar me?”

The only noise in the room is the tag on her toe as it drags across the floor. Over and over again.

“Wha… what?”

“Fuck. He did.” She pulls her hair to the side, revealing her breasts and a Y scar across her chest.

“Is this a joke?” I look to the doors, waiting for Carlisle or the night guard to appear, screaming ‘surprise’, but nothing. It’s only me and… her.

“Do I look like a joke?”

“You look dead.” I blink. “Like really fucking dead.”

“Way to compliment a girl.” Her smile spreads wide and her breasts bounce with each step she takes until I’m against the wall.

“You died. I watched him sew you up.” I watched me sew you up too, I don’t say.

She shrugs, moving closer. “I don’t really remember that part.”

“Did Carlisle put you up to this?”

“The doctor who did this to me?” She moves a hand over her side, her thumb rubbing against her dark nipple. I squeeze my eyes shut, and curse myself for watching.

“Yes, him.” I grit my teeth. The smell hits me as she takes another step. The unmistakable scent of death and rotting flesh.

It burns my nose and my eyes begin to water as I inch down the wall and away from her.

“Why isn’t he here? He was supposed to be here.”

“What?” I ask, confused and terrified.

“Never mind.” She rubs the side of her head and clumps of hair begin to fall to the floor, cascading at her feet. “You’ll do just fine.”

“He didn’t put you up to this?”

“Would you please stop talking and stay still.” She growls and reaches out for me, grabbing my hand. Her fingers burn into my skin and dig deeper until her nails begin to pop off.

“Then you’re dead?” I look down, the sound of her nails echoing as they bounce off the linoleum. “Oh, Jesus fucking Christ. I’m dreaming. That’s what this is.”

“Do I feel like a dream?” She pulls my hand between her breasts and I shiver. “Go ahead. Feel me.” She runs our hands down her abdomen, following the faint blue veins that burst below her flesh.

I can feel every cold, dead inch of her. Our hands trail above her hips and across her stomach. Again and again.

“You like that don’t you?” She giggles dipping our fingers between her legs.

“Stop!” I jerk back, not wanting to admit anything to her.

“If you play nice―” Her hands trail over my chest. “―this will all go so much easier. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself, would we?”

“I’m not fucking a dead person.” I shudder as her nipples brush against my thin t-shirt, making my dick hard.

“Who said anything about fucking?” I feel her hands on me, pushing me against the table. She begins at my jeans, her fingers undoing my buckle, and her chilled lips on my neck. “Let me do something for you.”

“Why?” I look at her as she drops to her knees.

“Because I need you.” She pulls down my jeans and smiles, licking her lips. “So big. So ready for me.”

“Need me?” I clear my throat, trying to swallow back a moan as her cold breath washes over me.

“Just relax, you’ll find out soon enough.” She smiles and wraps a hand around my dick before her tongue darts out, swirling around the head. “Let me please you.”

I brace myself, grabbing the sides of the table as her mouth works me over. I feel the back of her throat and the sides of her mouth as she moves up and down.

Harder and faster.

My hands go to her hair and I feel her moan on my cock as I grab a handful, unable to stop myself.

“Fuck,” I groan as her teeth scrape and her lips smack.

She hums around my cock, the cold of her mouth driving me over the edge. Ever so slowly I feel myself going numb. It starts at the head, and with every stroke of her tongue the feeling grows. Like strands, inching their way up and grabbing a hold of me.

Fingers dig and I feel her swallowing me, drinking me in and I beg for more.

Stars burst behind my eyes and my teeth gnash as my body seizes and I spill into her mouth.

When her lips leave me, I feel the last bit of strength I have wane and I drift in and out of consciousness until I feel the blade of a scalpel on my face.

“Ya know, I wasn’t sure I could fit you in my mouth.” She brushes her hand through my hair. “You must drive all the women crazy.”

“Where am I?” I look around, but I can’t see anything. I feel numb. My face. My legs. My arms. “What happened?”

“I told you I needed a favor.”  

“Why can’t I feel anything?” My head is turned to the side and I can see blood as it pools onto the table beneath me. It moves slow, growing deeper, closer to me.

“You’ll know.” I see her hand move to me, inching closer. “Soon enough.”

I feel burning first as I watch a shadow move across the room. It’s just a stinging, like my face is sun burnt.

“I’ve always had breasts. This feels different.”

“What?” The burning becomes worse. Like my nerves are being touched, like her fingers are caressing them. Wave after wave and my muscles begin to tense.

“Your chest is hairy. Do you never shave?”

I scream as flames begin to lick their way up my body.

“I bet you wish you didn’t feel anything now?” She giggles to her feet smack across the floor. I try to move, to stop the burning.

It takes hold of me, digging it’s flames inside my body, my skull. Pulling and eating at my flesh, twisting my bones. Charring my skin.

“What did you do to me?” I scream and thrash, trying to break free.

Her laughter mixes with my sobs and floats around the room.

“You’re being a baby.” I feel her at my feet, her hands feel like ice on my burning flesh and I try to kick at her. “Stop. Gotta make sure they know who you are.”

I feel a tug on my toe and I search the room as I bang my head against the steel table, splashing blood onto the floor. The drips, like booming thunder inside my head, do nothing to help my pain.

“There!” She claps. “All done.”

“All done? All done?” I snap my teeth at her and taste blood. “What are you doing to me?”

“Do you want to see?” Her fingers move up my leg, burning me again as they snake their way up my body.

“I want you to make it stop!”

“Only a little while longer. Then it’ll be over.” She kisses my temple. “I promise.”

“What will be over?” I ask trying to catch a glimpse of her. “Carlisle? Carlisle are you in here?”

“It’s just me and you.”

“Who are you?” I ask, my eyes rolling into my head as the pain tries to consume me.

“I’m Edward, silly.” I feel the table begin to move, each bump makes me scream louder, and the blood begins to splash onto my face. It covers me, burning every inch of me like acid.

“Carlisle!” I shout, trying to grab a hold of her.

“Now, now.” I hear the click of the door as it opens and the table stops. “It’s time to be quiet, okay?”

My cries turn to whimpers as her hand clasps mine and I feel the light begin to fade around the edge of my vision.

“Thank you.” With a kiss to my forehead she moves back, just enough for me to see her.

To see my face. To see brown eyes replacing my dark green ones.

I see the stitches, the dark jagged lines where she sliced away her own skin to make room for mine. Blood drips in lines down my face, smeared along the edges.

She even took my hair.

“My face.” My eyes widen as she moves closer, a cruel smile on my lips.

“Bodies don’t last forever.” She winks, her brown eyes turning to slits. “Think of it as me taking it for a test drive.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I grit my teeth, willing the pain to stop as I watch her move around me. She’s covered in my skin, head to toe.

“Creatures like me can’t seem to keep a body alive very long.” She shrugs, clipping my keycard to my lab coat. “Wrong place, wrong time, my sweet boy.”

She presses her cold lips to my scorched skin and I squeeze my eyes tight, unable to find my voice. Unable to beg. To plead.

“Nighty night, Isabella.” She cuts the bindings that held me down and shoves me into the cold container, slamming the door behind her.

“No!” I scream and I thrash. I growl and I beat and I feel the cold metal below my fingers as I try to scratch my way out.

The last thing I hear is her giggling on the other side of the door as I feel a toe tag tied neatly onto my foot, dangling over the edge of my steel grave.
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We hope you liked what will be one of many freaky Halloween tales! Be sure to leave some love!! See you creeps tomorrow! Until then...

Unpleasant Dreams,

~The Unholy Trinity