Bailing Out

by PhillyCh3zSt3ak

Chapter 10 (Part 1): Nightmare

A/N: Gore and Dark warning, you have been warned. This “part” of the chapter is taken from Spitfire’s perspective. So until the chapter ends “I” is Spitfire.

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Chapter 10: Nightmare (Spitfire)

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The words “lots of fun together” is something that echoed in the room, and frankly I don’t like it at all. This scrawny little bastard killed dozens of other women. I look over to my right and see a table full of surgical instruments and other items that could be classified as “torture” devices, because half of the items look like normal household items.

I looked over to the Slasher to see him put on a pair of those yellow rubber kitchen gloves and in his hand was a scalpel and a salt shaker. My eyes widened at the realization of what he was going to do. He was going to cut parts of my body open and salt the wounds. I knew of this horrible act because of a Griffin traditional punishment that required the arm of the transgressor to be cut open in a non-vital area, or vital if the case was severe, and it was salted. I saw a film demonstration of it once, it was horrible; and now it was going to be performed on me.

He cut a line on the top-side of my arm. I grimaced in pain and a muffled yelp escaped my mouth. “Don’t worry my dear, I don’t want you dead. Not yet that is,” he said with a demented smile. Then he poured the salt in the wound. It burned like all Tartarus below. Muffled screams escaped my lips as the tape kept them from escaping. Finally the pain died down to a dull throbbing, but he cut another line and repeated the same pattern.

A cut would be made away from a vein or artery, he would salt it, I would scream, the pain would die down, and then he’d start again somewhere else. He started getting tired of cutting one by one, so he started cutting two areas at a time. The pain got worse each time, the burning more intense each time. My jaw clenches and I try not to give him anything, but the pain is too much and I start to cry out, tears in my eyes.

Unfortunately he saw it, “Oh don’t cry my dear, the fun is just beginning.” Apparently this was going to get much worse. He walked away and when he was out of sight I tried to call for help and struggled against the restraints, but it is hopeless. The restraints dig into my skin and trying to pull at them only aggravates the salted cuts on my arms, and anything I try to say gets muffled by the tape.

He came back and I froze, he was holding a baseball bat in his hands. “Getting a little feisty are we? Well I think I have a solution for that,” he said with a twisted smile. My pupils shrunk at what he just stated because I knew what he was going to do next. He walked right over and raised the bat in a two handed grip and swung at my right leg. I cried out in pain as the wooden bat made contact with the bone.

Fun fact by the way about angel bones, while they are lightweight, they are also extremely durable. Meaning it’ll take several hits to get through. This is not going to be fun.

He inspected my leg, but it didn’t break. He looks really frustrated. He hit it again. I cried out in pain again, this time a tear streaming out of my eye. He looked again and got really agitated. “Why,” *hit* “won’t,” *hit* “you,” *hit* “break!?!” *crack*.

This pain was like nothing like I had experienced before. Eyes wide I cried out in pain and bucked up against the restraints. I felt even more pain as I came back down and I felt the bones grind against each other. “There we go,” the Slasher said with a glimmer in his eye. “Now how about we continue this fun.” I started shaking my head from left to right in an attempt to deny him his sick pleasure. “Was that a yes? I think it was.” He crossed over to the other side and started beating my right leg with the bat.

I felt the bone break again, the dull throbbing pain of the broken left leg was replaced by the sharp pain of breaking bone in the right leg. It is both intense and terrible. I cried out again, only to have it muffled by the tape. My back arched away from the restraints which forced both broken legs to grind each other causing bolts of agonizing pain to shoot up my spine causing me to black out.

As I regained consciousness I felt a dull throbbing in my legs only to see they were bent at an unnatural angle, one bone is sticking out through my skin as well. It's sickening. My arms which are tied down at my sides, like they were before. They are covered in cuts and blood, lots of blood. “Look who decided to come back,” the voice of the Slasher said. He came into view with a propane torch in his hand. Again I knew what it was because Andrew kept one in the garage for repairs.

My pupils dilated to pinpricks as I had an idea about what he’d do next. He ripped my blouse apart, exposing the soft skin of my upper body. He ignited the torch and brought the flame close to my skin.

“Mmphf,” was all I could get out as I can feel the heat on my skin. He brought the flame close to my navel. “Mmphf!” I try to shout out.

“Oh, so it seems like we have a winner,” he said with his maniacal smile.

He plunged the flame down so it touched the skin directly. “MMMPHF!!!” I tried to cry out as tears escaped my eyes. I could feel the flesh bubble and melt until it ended up being a charred mess. He slowly moved up the flame towards my chest. My muffled screams being more than audible now, and more tears from the agony streamed down my face. The pain was too much. Just everything. The salted cuts, the two broken legs, now the third degree burns and blood loss? It was too much and I fell into the sweet embrace unconsciousness, perhaps even death from the shock itself.

I feel like I’m floating now, like on one of the clouds of Cloudsdale fresh from the weather factories. There’s nothing but blackness around me, but my eyelids feel heavy. If this is the afterlife on Andrew’s world, I think I can be ok with this. Being at peace, feeling no pain, being out of the hands of a psychopathic madman.

“Have you ever had regrets?” a disembodied female voice said.

“A few,” I reply calmly.

“Would you wish to go back and not regret them, given the chance?”

“I would think I would like to.” And with that reply I start to hear the ticking of a single pocket watch. “What’s that?”

“The time has not yet come for the debt to be repaid.”

“What?” I ask.

The voice seemed frustrated, “It is not your time to go into Death’s embrace.”

The sensation of weightlessness left me, but the sensation of floating remained. My eyes slowly opened to see Andrew princess carrying me quickly through a corridor. From what my slightly opened eyes could see he was wearing full combat armor.

“Uhhh,” I groan.

Andrew’s head immediately shoots down to look at me, “Spits, stay with me alright. You’ll be ok.”

“Why can’t I feel anything?” I weakly asked.

“I had you shot up with enough morphine to knock out a rhino.”

“Ok,” I reply. My eyes starting to close again, “I’m just… going… to rest my… eyes,” I finish as my eyes close. A few seconds must have passed because I heard doors being crashed through and the engines of a helicopter. As my consciousness faded again I heard Andrew yell something over the roar of the engines.

‘Beep’

‘Beep’

‘Beep’

As my mind slowly came back from the inky blackness that was the first thing I heard. I let out a small groan as I felt an extremely dull pain in my legs, arms, and torso. I tried to sit up but was held down.

“Woah, easy there,” Andrew’s voice said. My vision came into focus and I saw his face. His eyes were bloodshot red and had bags under his eyes. “You got out of surgery a few hours ago, it’s time to rest.”

“What happened?” I croaked out.

“They had to reset your bones so that they heal correctly. That and they had to put a skin graft on your stomach to take care of the burn,” he replied. I looked down and saw that both of my legs and saw there were both in casts. My chest had gauze wrapped around it as I looked down the medical gown. My arms were also wrapped up past the elbow all the way down to me fingertips. “Yes they stitched up your arms too.”

“How did you find me?” I asked settling down into the bed.

“Well that’s an interesting story in and of itself. About an hour after you got nabbed-”

Author's Note:

I took a line straight out of Linkin Park’s track “Victimized,” or well I paraphrased it, or something like that.
And with that this completes this shift in perspectives. As of next chapter Andrew resumes his mantle as the story teller/narrator.
I do realize that this is one of my shorter chapters and I am well aware of it. For me it was hard to write that, it was hard to even imagine the kind of pain that I tried to describe. The other reason for the shortness is that part 2 of this chapter will be longer.
I would like to think that I caught all my errors. Wanna prove me wrong? PM me or comment it.
The second part will be published later today (12/21).

Comments

[totallynotabrony]

My eyes slowly opened to see Andrew princess