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A blog for poetry, prose, and pop culture.

Sunday, April 28, 2013

Flash Fiction: Under a Dead Sun: Past Sins

Chapter 47

Cody yanked hard on her hair pulling her face up to his. She let out a grunt but didn't speak, just stared at him. He could see the tears forming in the corner of her eyes but she was putting on a brave face. He admired that. It made him hard. She looked away but he used one hand to roughly grab her cheeks and turn her face back towards him.

"I'm gonna hear you beg bitch. You can put on whatever brave face you want. But I WILL hear you beg."

He jerked her hair so hard a few strands pulled free and continued pulling her up the staircase of the hotel. She struggled but his grip was to strong. Her feet, knees, and shins smacked hard against the steps until he reached the top floor and she let out a few small grunts, but still no scream. Not yet. He kicked open the first room at the top and muscled Ally through the doorway, violently throwing her on the bed.

She tried to scramble off as soon as she hit the mattress but he was on top of her instantly. He pressed his weight on top of her and she tried to hit at him with her free hands but he used his legs to wedge one of them down.   With his position and weight she couldn't get much leverage against him and he let out a smile as he ran a caressing finger along her cheek. He fondled the split he'd caused on her lip before she took a bite at his finger. His smile quickly lapsed into a frown as he punched her hard in the eye. That did ellicit a cry from her. He watched it welt and start to turn purple as she writhed beneath him.

"Now we'll really have some fun."

She tried squirming left, tugging at her free arm as he slid back on top of her a little. He grabbed one of her breasts hard as his free hand gripped the collar of her dress. He pulled at it, tearing fabric and popping buttons, exposing the tender white flesh beneath, still ripe with the bruises he had given her. That sick, thick grin came back as he used that hand to undo his gun belt, tossing it beside the bed. He kept his other hand around her throat, keeping her eyes on him anytime she tried to turn away. His fingers were stiff and cruel as he forced her to look at him as he spoke.

"You can start crying now."

He slapped her across the face again for good measure before tugging at the button on his pants. This would feel so good. He'd killed to many people to have ignored this urge this long. It had been days since that whore at the farmhouse, and this nectar was twice as sweet as she had been. He let go of her face and used both hands as he slipped his pants down, rising off her slightly in the process. It was in that momentary lapse in pressure that the whore made her move. Her arm suddenly free, he saw her hand blur and felt a searing pain across his eye. He let out a scream and fell backwards off the bed, red filling his vision. He clutched at the socket, feeling the flap of skin where his eye use to be and the salty flecks of blood dribbling on his lips from between his fingers.


With his good eye he saw her stand up, clutching the steak knife from her meal in her hands. The whole world was a vision of red and pain, but he still felt that white hot urge in his gut. He stumbled towards the bed, still holding his eye as he tried to stand up.


She drew close to him, her voice small and hard.

"It's okay to start screaming now."

He did scream then, after he felt her jam the knife into his stomach.

End of Line.

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