About Us
Mission Statement
Rules of Conduct
 
Name:
Pswd:
Remember Me
Register
 

Horror story.
Author: velveeta jones    Date: 10/12/2008 12:54:17

Help me! How did this happen and what did I do to deserve this? And why oh why won't someone come to my rescue! The things that I've seen...... awful things.... horrifying atrocities....

Today I will tell my story.... while I can........for I know not what unspeakable things will be done to me next. Surely, I will be put back into my prison: a black box which closes with a loud THUD and where I remain, unable to move, my padded cell binding me to the wall, and the darkness, the frightening darkness...... Sorry, its hard not to cry, I'm sure you'll understand. No one should suffer these tortures.... no one.....

Let me pull myself together to tell you of my strange journey. I must be swift; as my prisoners could come at any minute.

I can remember as far back as being in the womb, my mother keeping me warm and at peace. Listening to generation after generation of people above me and out in the world. They are also at peace, at least most of the time. Then came the day when I was born against my will, taken away from my mother. The harsh sunlight, the screaming and pushing! Loud bangs in the morning sky – I would later learn was gunfire. As quickly as I saw these things, I was shoved back into semi-darkness. A sack of some sort.

Eventually, I could see; the land around me was bumping up and down violently as the scenery moved past me; all the while the men were screaming at each other.

Soon the horror began. From my sack, I could see the men that had captured me had come to a village of some sort. Much screaming and gunfire in the air. Young children are forced out of hiding places and made to put their arms on a stump – boys and girls who cannot even crawl yet – their arms viciously hacked off at the wrist or elbow and thrown back down to the ground. Mothers and fathers wail and plead with the men.

I cannot watch. Somehow, I know that I am the reason.

From my sack, I am put into a jail, along with millions of my kinsmen, and we are in total darkness. We hear muffled sounds occasionally – then a loud CLANK – then nothingness.

It is this way for many years.

Then one day: movement! Bright lights! I am taken by some men who talk sweetly and fondle me, turning me over and over. These men seem nice, they admire me, they seem to love me.

These men are not what they seem, however. They speak sweetly and hold me with love, but they soon put me under a very bright light and begin…… this is hard to talk about…… but these men are some sort of mad scientists! They, they, ……. alter me. They carve parts of me and shave me down to make some sort of shape that is pleasing to them. Once I have been altered, I am put into a thing made of gold that holds me into one position. My altered shape on display.

I told you this story would be horrifying!

After several long bouts of this surgery, I am again imprisoned into a box. Not long afterward another of my brothers is placed in this box. But wait, this… no it cannot be! He is in the exact same shape as me!! He has also been altered!! We are like….like….CLONES.

I pass out. I think that I might be dead. But death comes only to the lucky ones.

I am removed from my prison. The lights are bright. A woman is bending down and touching me. Her hands are ice cold. Her blonde hair and long face scare me. Certainly she is the leader of hell!

She picks up my brother and I see him go towards her face. Oh my God! I panic! I cannot run, cannot even move, this damn suffocating padding holds me to my prison wall! He is placed into her ear by a wire, left to dangle. The witch turns her head to admire my clone brother. Her mouth turns upwards to make a frightful gash in her face. I CANNOT LOOK.

THE WITCH HAS TURNED HER SIGHTS ON ME! SHE REACHES DOWN, HER ICEY HAND GRABS ME…..

I am awake. I must have passed out again. Thank God. But now I am moving, I realize to my terror that I too am attached to her. I move as she moves. The witch appears to have yellow colored wings around her neck, I assume this is the robe she wears for casting whatever evil spells she does. We must be in this place for some sort of sacrifice or other unspeakable acts of violence. People come up to her and offer their hand, they bend to her and put forth their face for some sort of anointing. I see that some of them also have my brothers and sisters attached to them. Some on the ears, some banded together as a chain gang.

The witch leads us towards an old man, his arms hang from him as if put there by accident. He bends towards her to speak. His breath is putrid; like hot bubbling acid. I cringe. Oddly, the witch also cringes, ever so slightly.

We are led to a stage. Hundreds of white faces holding signs and chanting “USA” greet the witch. I know that the end must be coming. I await my fate.

The witch says some words, which must be magic, for the crowd goes wild, they cheer and chant. The lights change and we move off of the stage.

I am not sure what happened, but I am – and my clone – are still alive, though still altered to this strange cut shape.

We will end back up in our prison. Won’t someone save us? Release us from this hell? Its hard to breathe in the box and the white padding is like a ….

No, someone comes….. please, please, send help. Can you call, can you, you…noooooooo…….

 

60 comments (Latest Comment: 10/13/2008 04:34:12 by trojanrabbit)
   Perma Link

Share This!

Furl it!
Spurl
NewsVine
Reddit
Technorati