The Story of my mad Sister

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
My sister Maria was an innocent girl. She... she was riddled with insanity, and a mad scientist, named Kent, reconstructed her body. He calls it human art...

Submitted: November 25, 2010

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Submitted: November 25, 2010

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Please Comment!!!! Do it! Read it! Spread the word!“Why did you become like you are?”
 
“Every time I look at myself, I was remembered of the past.”
“The past?”
“My sister Maria got sick and suddenly went mad. She was frail and affected by a deadly epidemic. The doctors gave up on her. But that mad scientist wouldn’t.”
“Kent?”
“He said that she would be saved… if she had surgery. All it was… was an evil temptation. She, was… she flailed her arms about, with a knife in her hand. Her cries… they were like a shrieking song. She had her nose pressed to the cage bars, spit flying, eyes closed. She opened her eyes but you could only see half of the iris. She licked her arm, drooling, still moaning and drool dripping off her chin. She let go, and… she started spinning and flailing her arms around again. Her head jerked up and down, side to side. I stepped closer to the cage, on my guard, when she wobbled around to see me. I let my guard down… seeing her like that… made me angry, upset. She held the cage bar, her eyes distant, but I could still see a hint of recognition in her eyes. I placed my hand on top of hers, but I should of paid attention to the hint of recognition vanish. She movedher head slowly, and then her irises went to their normal upturned position, and she sang her horrible cries. She bit my hand hard, and I screamed not of the pain of the bite, but rather the pain of seeing her go crazy again.” I raised my arm as I said this to Phoebe.
“After the surgery, she totally lost her mind. She killed us all. My parents, brother, and my other sister. She left me alive, but cut my arm off. The blood splattered the tent and dripped down the waterproof plastic. My arm had fallen to the ground, blood splattered…” I dropped my arm and kept talking to Phoebe.
“She was crazy, but she asked- no, pleaded me to do something. I remember running into the cage, her flailing the knife at me, trying to keep me away. Trying to do it herself.”
Phoebe's tears were running down her cheeks and onto her leather jacket. She looked away to dry her eyes, but couldn’t keep her cool façade. She turned back to me, her eyes darting to find a drop of sadness in my face. I had none. My face was blank. She asked, “Trying to do what?”
“Trying to commit suicide.” Phoebe started crying again. I, though, continued my story. “I tried to pull the knife away, but she had an iron hard grip. She knocked my hand away, crying. I knew, though, somewhere, she was there. Her old self. Hiding behind thick layers of insanity. She raised the knife but I was too quick. I moved her hands at the last second. She tried to pull the knife up but my fingers were getting cut instead. She finally succeeded but my hand was still there. I pulled the blade, finally, out of her grip. She fell to the ground. Those, horrible upturned eyes were staring out of the cage. Trying to see the knife I had thrown away. I pulled her up and held her close. Her moans had turned into actual girl cries. She whispered, ‘“Kill… me… I beg you… please…”’ She had stopped crying altogether. Her mouth was gaped, her crying without sound. It was too much to bear.”
“So I turned myself into a devil…” I whispered.
“And did what she asked me to do. Later, I heard a rumor. Kent is everywhere… experimenting to make the perfect demon.” I turned to Phoebe, who was also made by Kent. Just… different.
“So am I one of his guinea pigs?”
“Yes. That’s why I have to kill Kent.”
“Do you think we’ll go crazy, too?”
“It’s highly possible.”
“If I ever go crazy… will you please kill me?
“I will. And If I… do you promise to do the same?” I turned to her with an outstretched hand. I cut it.
She cut hers and grasped my hand. “I… I promise I’ll do the same.”


© Copyright 2020 Vampyre Queen. All rights reserved.

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