She is thrown into a cold, damp room. She stumbles and as she falls to the ground she watches her hands hit the hard pavement followed by a sharp pain in her wrists and arms. Despite the pain she gets up quickly, and frantically looks around the room; there is no sign of the man who attacked her. The room is small, and the ceiling is low. She can smell the mold on the old, stone walls, along with the potent scent of urine, and god knows what else. Her knees feel weak, and give out so she falls to the floor once again. The pain she feels in her legs is unreal; she cannot get up this time. She hears foot steps, and a wave of terror flows through her weak body. She struggles in an attempt to crawl to a dark corner. The door slams open and, she tries to crawl away as fast as she can, because she knows that if he gets his hands on her there isn’t a ******* thing she can do. He slowly approaches; she stops crawling, and uses all the strength she has left to beg him to let her go. He stops and smiles at her. Then he reaches out and offers his hand to help her up; she takes it. When she is on her feet he grabs the front of her shirt and rips it off almost effortlessly; then he throws her to the ground. He unbuckles his belt and takes off his pants. There is nothing she can do as he proceeds to remove the remainder of her clothing. He lays her flat on the ground, and pins her arms down with his callused hands. The entire time he mercilessly rapes her, she cannot stand to look at the sick expression of enjoyment he has on his face. He is holding her down so hard that she can feel her back bending to appease the large bumps, on the stone floor. When he is done he leaves her on the ground, puts his pants back on and leaves the room for a moment. When he returns she is in the same place he left her. He is carrying a wooden chair with straps attached to it, along with a power drill. He drags her to the chair, and places her in it…she tries to struggle free but is far too weak. He takes her wrists and straps them securely to the arms of the chair. Next her legs, and then he pushes her back, hard against the chair, and straps her arms and chest down so tightly that she feels as though the straps are going to rip her in half. She screams as loud as she can for help, as she does he laughs, he knows no one can hear her. He takes the power drill and turns it on. He looks her in the eye and then looks at her hand. He slowly moves the power drill towards her hand; she follows the drill with her eyes in disbelief, could this really be happening? It seems much more real as the drill finally rips through her skin. She screams in agony and terror, while the drill viciously burrows through every layer of her hand. As he pulls the drill back up through her hand, she can feel her flesh twist around the grooves of the drill head. The drill is turned off and all she can hear is her blood dripping on the ground in a duet with the water from the old ceiling. The man leaves the room again…she mopes in pain, and tries to squirm herself free of the straps, but there is no use. She screams desperately. The man walks back into the room rolling a table, and as the table rolls she can hear the objects on it colliding with each other. As he parks the table beside her she tries hard to see what is on it, but is blinded by her tears. He wipes her eyes, and now she wishes she never attempted to see the gruesome devices that lay on the table. For a moment her fear turns to anger and she screams and curses and him. He looks her in the eyes, and grins at her, and with that, she is silenced. He picks up a razor blade off of the table with one hand, and with the other he bends her index finger on the non drilled hand upwards and breaks it in the process; she cringes. He holds her finger tightly and she feels her bones sliding together. He slides the razor under her nail, and slowly peels it up; the girl lets out a cocktail of crying and screaming, as he continues to break every finger and remove every nail from her hand. She squirms, around in her seat which is now covered in a mixture of her urine and blood. Next he picks up a butchers knife, and without any hesitation at all he cuts off the hand that he drilled through as if it were the head of a goose. Blood splatters across the room and all over her, as well as the face of the torturer. He wipes the blood off his face with a dirty rag, and tosses her hand away to be feasted on by rats. She screams again, and begs him to let her go, he looks at her and winks, and then he picks up a clothes iron, which was plugged in when he brought the table. She knows what is going to happen next, and she is sobbing uncontrollably. He takes the iron, places it on her chest and quickly pulls away; he then places it back on the table. The girl is somewhat relieved, she knew if he had left the iron on her longer and with more force the pain would be unbearable. He turns around and relieves an itch on his arm; then he turns back around and grabs the iron and pushes it hard against her face; she has no time to respond. He leaves the iron on her face for about a good fifteen seconds, and as he does her toes cringe, and she squirms around in her seat. He finally removes it, but the pain is not removed with it. She cannot bear the torture any longer and finally begs him to kill her, so that she can be free from the agony he has relentlessly placed upon her. He pays no attention to her desperate pleas. He examines the table for a moment and then removes a pair of scissors. He starts to whistle a tune, as if he were about to do a simple household chore. This is the first sound that has come from him; the entire three hours they have been in that room he has not said one word. As he continues to whistle this pleasant tune he pulls her right eyelid forward and simply snips it off. The girl is screaming in pain. He puts the scissors down, and grabs a scalpel and cuts into the sides of her eye socket, cutting the muscles holding her eye in place. He takes some large tweezers and wiggles the eye ball out of its socket, at this point the eye is uselessly hanging from her optic nerve and resting against her cheek. She is screaming and again begs him to kill her; she cannot take the pain anymore. He continues to ignore her and picks up the scissors again. He cuts the nerve and as he does she feels an excruciating jolt from where her eye used to be to her brain. She feels the blood covered eye fall on her lap, and she shutters. He starts to unstrap her from the chair. She is confused…is he going to let her go? Her heart starts to beat frantically and she is somewhat relieved. She is completely unstrapped from the chair, and the man steps aside, and gestures towards the unlocked door. She struggles to get out of her seat, but manages to, and with all her strength she starts to limp towards the door. She can’t believe it, is she really free? The man grabs her by the hair and pulls her to the ground… she screams as he drags her out the door and down the long, dark hallway by her hair. They come outside… and it is dark, and the wind is cold against her naked, bloody body. He binds her feet tightly with a rope, and ties the other end to the back bumper of a rusty, green car. He leaves and enters the car; she tries to wiggle free, but the rope is far too tight. He starts the car and slowly drives from the stone driveway to an abandoned road. Her back is scrapping against the pavement, and she can feel her skin stretching. He accelerates in speed until he is going at least 80 miles/hr. She screams in agony as she feels the skin peel off of her back, arms, legs, and head. She tries to hold her head up but unwillingly bangs it repeatedly against the hard ground. Everything goes black, and after half an hour of driving the man stops the car, gets out and examines the girl. The skin on her back is peeled off, and her arms are scrapped to the bone. Her head is bleeding, very badly and is surely cracked open. He feels her skull and it is soft… the drive has broken her head along with nearly every bone in her body. As well, her face is completely removed from her head; she surely must be dead. The man leans down and can see and feel that she is still breathing, and that she is now slightly conscious as she lets out a quiet whimper. The man unties her, and picks up her limp, broken body; he tosses her in the ditch. Then he takes off his shirt as it is covered in blood and tosses it in the ditch with the girl. He finds a puddle on the side of the road and rinses the blood off his hands. He takes one last look at the girl, and then gets into his car and drives away.
ïŠ THE END ïŠ
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