Short story time
This is the first short story that I've written in about three years. Wrote it today at work and put the finishing touches on it while drinking a bottle of Smirnoff Watermelon vodka. Enjoy. Or don't.
The early morning sunlight filtered through the curtains. A beam of light snuck through, illuminating some loose strands of blond hair across her pillow. Her green eyes stared vacantly, gazing up at the ceiling hidden in the shadows.
He stood at the foot of the bed, watching her perfect form as she lay there. The sheets were pulled up to her head, covering the darkening bruises around her neck. As he stood there, he could hear a buzzing in his ears and a familiar tugging at his brain. At first, he ignored the sensation, hoping that it would go away. Instead, it grew more insistent, tugging harder at his mind. “No, no more,” he whispered, the sound stretching ominously across the silent room. He felt his body growing colder and colder as he stood there, entranced with the vision before him.
It felt as though he was watching himself as he grabbed her feet and dragged her from the bed. Picking her up, he deposited her gently into the bathtub. Giving her one last kiss on her smooth blue-black lips, he left the room, heading to the garage.
Returning, he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back. The saw dug into the damaged flesh, digging deeper with each stroke. Blood flowed from the wound, pooling beneath her before slowly running down the drain. Finally, it came free, and hung by her hair in his hand, swaying rapidly back and forth.
The blank eyes bored into his own as he stood there fascinated by them even now. Finally, the swaying stopped and he shook himself out of his reverie. He could still feel the tugging in his brain; it almost felt like it was begging him. Reluctantly, he forced himself to move, and went down to the basement. There, in a dark corner filled with cobwebs stood an old freezer. He opened it up, and tossed her inside. As he looked down, he saw the other ice covered faces staring back at him. Shuddering, he slammed the door and hurried back upstairs.
He no longer felt the tugging at his mind as he closed the cellar door. It likes it in the basement.
The early morning sunlight filtered through the curtains. A beam of light snuck through, illuminating some loose strands of blond hair across her pillow. Her green eyes stared vacantly, gazing up at the ceiling hidden in the shadows.
He stood at the foot of the bed, watching her perfect form as she lay there. The sheets were pulled up to her head, covering the darkening bruises around her neck. As he stood there, he could hear a buzzing in his ears and a familiar tugging at his brain. At first, he ignored the sensation, hoping that it would go away. Instead, it grew more insistent, tugging harder at his mind. “No, no more,” he whispered, the sound stretching ominously across the silent room. He felt his body growing colder and colder as he stood there, entranced with the vision before him.
It felt as though he was watching himself as he grabbed her feet and dragged her from the bed. Picking her up, he deposited her gently into the bathtub. Giving her one last kiss on her smooth blue-black lips, he left the room, heading to the garage.
Returning, he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back. The saw dug into the damaged flesh, digging deeper with each stroke. Blood flowed from the wound, pooling beneath her before slowly running down the drain. Finally, it came free, and hung by her hair in his hand, swaying rapidly back and forth.
The blank eyes bored into his own as he stood there fascinated by them even now. Finally, the swaying stopped and he shook himself out of his reverie. He could still feel the tugging in his brain; it almost felt like it was begging him. Reluctantly, he forced himself to move, and went down to the basement. There, in a dark corner filled with cobwebs stood an old freezer. He opened it up, and tossed her inside. As he looked down, he saw the other ice covered faces staring back at him. Shuddering, he slammed the door and hurried back upstairs.
He no longer felt the tugging at his mind as he closed the cellar door. It likes it in the basement.