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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

Nick and Beverly are having a normal day until someone knocks on the door. read this twist of fate with grusome imagry and amazing story twists if you want to give yourself a fright.

November 25, 1997 6AM
The static noise from the TV (now flipped over onto the floor, a spray of blood covered the screen) filled the small house built for two. Its light filling the living room with a running swirl of white, fading into the kitchen area where blood was drying brown on the counter. Another light was falling on the blood stain, that of the refrigerator that had been swung open in a dramatic attempt at defense, as if a child were trying to stop his sibling from chasing him. The stink of spilt, spoiling milk filled the nearby air as the liquid spread away from the point of impact with the floor in front of the ajar door. Next to the fridge was a pot of now ruined roast, it once had the taste and texture fit of kings, now it sat in a goo of seasoning and gravy.
Through the kitchen there was a dark corridor through which one could reach the bathroom (on the immediate right) and the bedroom (a few paces directly past the bathroom). In the bathroom lay a pool of blood on the tiled floor, the blood, still somewhat fresh, moved through the inlays of the tile to finally reach the edge of the hallway carpet. Near the bathtub was the faint plop of liquid, thick liquid. Behind the curtains hid an object from all. An object that still bled and still lived.
Out of the bathroom and down the hall further, the shine of blood stained the walls, reflecting the rising sun as it peered through the single hall window. The turn into the only bedroom of the house reviled the sound of an alarm clock
that rang out to a deaf owner. The bed ruffled and soaked in blood, sat protruding out to the middle of the room leaving a good amount of space on the other side. A ghostly white foot lay, peeking out from below the bed. Its middle toe gone and its big toe sliced, the wound clotted and brown. The alarm clock rang louder and---
November 24, 1997 6:17PM
---louder until Nick Farling finally slammed his lean hand over the off button. His face twisted and turned sideways in puzzlement. Why did the alarm go off? It’s the afternoon for Christ’s sakes. Giving up on solving the mystery, he swung around and started towards the door, where Beverly Farling appeared. Her blue eyes glowed and her hair flowed gracefully down her body, its waves fit for a super model. Her waist, slight curved inward and then back out as it hit the hips, was bent to the side. She rested her weight on her right leg.
“What was it?” she asked, scrunching her brow to show she was curious.
“The clock… I thought it only went off in the morning, must have pressed some button or something.”
“Yeah, hey guess what we’re having for dinner!”
“Burnt spaghetti?” said Nick with a small grin.
“Nope! Burnt roast!” said Beverly with and giggle. Her long brown hair bounced on her chest as she did. Drawing Nick’s eyes down, he advanced toward Beverly bringing his hands to her hips. They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, Nick wanted to kiss her. Slowly moving his lips to hers, a knock came from the front door.
“Son of a bitch,” whispered Nick “I’ll get it, you keep working on that roast.”
“Sure.” And with that Nick was gone, his foot steps muffled to a solid set of thumps by the carpet.
Another knock.
“I’m on my way!” yelled Nick as he reached the leaving room. The door was just within reach when a final knock came from the entrance. Nick swung it half open and looked the impatient visitor directly in the eyes. The eyes seemed dead, glazed over. The pale green color sent chills up nicks spine. A nose protruded from the face of the visitor, abnormally large, it curved outward and then came to a flat front, the nostrils made it seem much fatter than it actually was. The lips were pale and barley visible, they moved
“Hi, my name is tom. I’m going around with a survey, may I please come in?”
Nick’s eyes squinted a little “No not now, my wife and I were just eating, maybe tomor---“ Tom slammed his shoulder into the door. The door corner bounced off of Nick’s skull, sending him sprawling back. A large hand snatched out and grabbed his shirt front, holding Nick tilted slightly back. The final thing to enter Nick’s vision was the knuckles of the intruder. Then black.
“Who was it babe?” Beverly called from the kitchen. Tom slowly lowered the body down, letting it roll on the carpet. Walking towards the kitchen he made muffled thumps on the floor, similar to Nick. He turned to see Beverly cooking over the stove; she began to turn towards him. Too late, he already had his hands on her neck and was pivoting himself around to her backside. Beverly began to gasp as to scream, but feeling the expanding lungs, Tom threw his hand up to Beverly’s mouth and blocked all sound.
“shhhhhh sh sh sh shhhhh. No need for that, no one will hear you. Now let’s go into the living room and see what’s on TV.” He jerked her body so her butt was pressed tightly against his crotch. She could feel the bulge beginning to form there. “Who knows, we might have some fun.” He backed up to the countertop, still holding Beverly, and began to open drawers. Knives! He’s gonna get knives! Beverly thought. She grabbed for the nearest thing, the refrigerator. She swung the door open but only caused more pain in her neck as the man tightened his grip. She heard the sliding of the wheels in the drawers, the slamming and aggressive openings. It made her want to puke for some reason, knowing that each drawer brought the man one step closer to his goal.
“Finally.” Said the man in relief. He pulled out a large blade, its handle made of polished wood. He put the business end to Beverly’s neck, and lightly grazed the skin. The cut was painful but very little blood exited through the wound. A shove came from the back of her neck and she was forced into the living room where her unconscious husband lay.
“Wake up! Come on, you want to look like this in front of your wife? What kind of man are you? WAKE UP!” yelled Tom, his spit flying into Nick’s face. Nick’s eyes slowly opened, then widened as he looked up into the pale green eyes of Tom, who was sitting on the couch with Beverly on his lap. Nick had never seen such a horrified face, her cheeks were lined with tear streaks and the once soft and loving lips were now trembling and white. My WIFE my fucking WIFE, let go of her you sombitch, I’ll fucking KILL you.But the words could not find his mouth. He could only stare in horror as Beverly cried softly glancing at the knife in Tom’s hand.
“Let go uhhh … let go of her,” Nick finally whispered. “Let go of her and I’ll let you leave” the ‘v’ came out as an ‘f’ due to his busted lip.
Tom giggled wildly at this “And what if I don’t? Huh? What if I don’t let go of your petty little whore wife?” Tom slid his hand up Beverly’s side, coming to her breasts. He cupped one and held the knife to her throat as he petted and squeezed. More tears.
Nick then tried to maneuver upward to his feet but couldn’t, he glanced down at his legs to see them tied up with at least ten different ropes, each with at three inch gap between them to let the flesh bulge out. In perfect unity they held both of his legs together tightly.
“You didn’t think I’d let you sit there free to attack? Of course not, I have to have everything insured to go my way! Like how I’m going to take your wife into the bedroom and plow her and you’re not going to be able to stop me. Now let the fun BEGIN!” Tom yelled as he sprang up holding Beverly by her hair.
She began to scream and wriggle trying to get away, only pulling her hair more. Each hair sending sharp pain into her scalp, after ten seconds of sheer pain she gave up. Tom began dragging her again, pulling her towards the bedroom, his body tingling with giddiness and lust. He pulled her into to room and threw her on the bed where he held the knife to her throat once more.
“Now your not gonna struggle, and your not gonna say a word, or you both die.” Said Tom into Beverly’s ear. He then slid the knife down to her shirt and cut it down the middle, reviling her bra and stomach. He pulled down the bra cups to show the breasts he was just squeezing. For at least two minuets he stared and shivered with pleasure. He then slid the knife further down, cut the button on her pants and ripped the zipper down. Pulling the jeans off, he could feel himself getting hard. Cutting of her panties, he could feel his blood rushing. And as he pulled himself out he pulled Beverly close.
The actual time for Tom must have been forty seconds, and that’s all he wanted. When he finished and pulled himself out, he sat down on the foot of the bed leaving Beverly to lay in shock as to what just occurred. Hands began to think on their own as they went into Tom’s pocket and pulled out a syringe and a small glass bottle labeled amino amide. The hands did all the work as they plunged the syringe into the bottle and pulled out a half full tube. They rotated and moved to the helpless woman as they injected her with the local anesthetic.
When Tom came out of the room Nick had been crying for ten minuets. The ropes were starting to cut into his skin, making him bleed through his pants. Tom was looking for something. What would he want? He already raped Bevy, what the hell else would he want?!
“I’m hungry, got anything to eat in this place?” asked Tom
No answer maybe he’s still messing with us
“I asked you a question!” tom screamed, stomping over to Nick. “I asked you a QUESTION!” Tom grabbed at Nick’s hand and fumbled through the fingers. He snatched the pinky and brought his hand to the tip. A pause of complete silence, then a snap, pain shot up through Nick’s veins, making him want to puke up everything he’s ever eaten. A scream entered Nick’s throat, no don’t you dare scream, and that’s what he wants. Tom moved down to the next knuckle, another snap, this one was more of a crunch, as if someone has bitten into a large chip.
This time Nick did scream, he screamed like a child, like a girl. At that one single moment all dignity was taken from him, robbed from him, and he screamed a childish scream.
Tom smiled, and let go leaving the gnarled and twisted finger to throb in pain. He was happy with his work, and stood up. But Nick wasn’t, he grabbed Tom’s left foot and sent him crashing down to the floor, Tom’s face hit first. Blood sprayed from his nose and mouth when he looked up. Nick grabbed the scalp and slammed it to the ground, hearing the crunch of the long misshapen nose. Tom lost all feeling, and felt himself floating away, to an obis of emptiness. Nick did one last slam before beginning to worm his way to the kitchen.
Nick reached for the knife drawer and pulled out a simple steak knife, stuck the blade to the ropes and began to cut. His pinky throbbed as his blood passed. Bent and curled, it easily avoided being touched. The final rope seemed to just fall off his ankles. As soon as he was free; Nick ran to the bedroom and instantly puked. His face, now pale began to tremble, the picture before him was one of a slasher film, but it came with smells and a slight taste in the back of his throat. Beverly lay on the bed naked, her stomach cut open. Intestines lay out on the bed still connected to the body, the lumps seeming like small eggs were passing through her digestive system. The liver had been cut out, and it seemed there had been a bite taken out of it.
Her face had been carved to pieces, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her trachea was cut open reviling a pull of blood that had settled in the back of her throat. The beautiful tanned legs were now blue and lifeless, cut directly down the center of each thigh. The Achilles tendon on her right leg had been snapped and the calf muscle that connected had been slung up near her knee in a tight ball. Her chest cavity had been pried open the lungs lay flat and without air, while the heart had been stabbed. And still there was the knife.
Nick, now filled with rage and hatred, pulled the knife from the mutilated corpse. Gripping it firmly with pulsing arms, he sped into the living room. Tom was just starting to stand when Nick entered the room. Without thinking Nick began to run, no, sprint. He then collided with the intruder that had killed his wife, his love. They both bounced and flew. Tom, in the direction of the TV sat neatly in the corner, turning it on. Nick went sprawling back towards the kitchen. Still holding the knife, Nick, not nearly as dazed as the intruder, went to Tom and held it to his throat.
“You’re gonna die too you sombitch!” He said through gritted teeth. Tom giggled. Nick hardly noticed. He swung the green eyed man around and forced him down the hallway to the body of Beverly. Nick forced the intruder to look at the mess of organs. Silence.
Tom never had the thought of death in his mind. Not until Nick sliced his throat. The blood flowed out so smoothly that it seemed unreal. It even crept into his mouth where it pooled and flowed out on its own. But no pain entered him, only thoughts of what will happen next. The black.
The wall had been splattered with crimson blood. Nick didn’t care. The floor was permanently stained. Nick didn’t care. The house was worthless now. Nick still didn’t care. Nick only cared of his wife, how she was killed for no reason, no significance. He thought of this as he drug the intruder’s corpse into the bathtub. He stared at it for a minute, spat, and went back into the bedroom. The smell was horrendous now. But Nick still worked. He moved the mess of entrails off the bed and onto the floor where he cried and said a prayer. He rose his hand to the torn face and closed the eyelids.
Nick leaves the house, he never looks back.
November 25, 1997 6:30AM
The alarm rang still; a hand came down upon it, a hand covered in blood, a hand of an intruder. He held a cloth to his neck to stop the small flow of blood. His face even paler than it was originally. His pale green eyes looked down at the body of the woman he raped and killed. “Didn’t I say we would have some fun?” he whispered. A grin formed on his face and he stepped out of the room. He reached back in and turned off the lights.
Author: 4ngryto4st

Submitted: November 05, 2010

© Copyright 2022 4ngryto4st. All rights reserved.

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Thu, September 6th, 2018 2:32pm


whoa there buddy... whoa

Wed, October 16th, 2019 4:22am

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