Playing With My Prey
Lyla
I hummed as I drove to the address that I was told to go to. Heather was whimpering in the passenger seat. She had no courage or self–preservation. I would die trying to escape. I would have jumped from the moving vehicle by now and made a run for it.
I pulled into an abandoned car mechanic’s shop. This felt like déjà vu and I chuckled.
“I have to open this garage. If you try to escape, when I catch you, I’m going to skin you alive.
You hear me?”
She nodded frantically. Coward. Doesn’t she realize she’s dying anyway?
hopped out of the vehicle and put in the code I was given for the garage door. I got back in
and we both watched the door go up. I drove in and we got out.
“Stay,” I barked out.
I shut the door and turned around. She didn’t move.
I walked over to her and grabbed her by the arm, took her to the back of the vehicle.
“Grab the box.” She reached for the box in the back and heard a squeaking. She hesitated and
I nudged her.
She gingerly picked it up, and I marched her to the middle of the garage. It was a huge place
and like I asked there were chains bolted into the floor. Two for the arms and two for the
ankles. Perfect.
“Put the box down, strip, then lay down in the middle of the chains.”
She didn’t hesitate, her movements were robotic, her face was blank, she knew.
After she was situated I chained her, tears glided down the sides of her face.
“You ready, Heather?” I asked politely.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Great, let’s get started.”
I made sure to be right in front of her face as I pulled out my knife. She whimpered, that
made me happy.
“This is going to really hurt, like white heat, it’ll feel hot before the pain blooms, I promise.”
1/4
48 Point
Playing With My Prey
“Lyla, you don’t have to do this,” she said.
“Of course I do. What if you had succeeded and Dashawn slept with you, and Samantha slept with someone else? You would have destroyed them, and you would have done it with a smile. And I’m sure you would have made sure you got pregnant somehow. That would have killed
Dashawn. Notice I call him Dashawn to you. Out of all the years I’ve known you, you never
called him Dashawn. You called him babe, and then he got his cut and road name, and all I
ever heard from you was babe or Money. Now you could have when I wasn’t around, but I
wouldn’t know. Oh, and I have news for you. Dashawn and Samantha got married, and I don’t
know if you know, but they are pregnant and having twins.”
She sobbed at that, her whole body shook and I smiled. Her eyes were closed so she didn’t see
me swipe the knife across her chest, but she sure felt it. Her scream was long and loud. I
tsked at her.
“That was nothing, it gets worse, save those types of screams for that.”
I stabbed her thigh, the scream she gave made me feel high, the endorphins running through my body felt phenomenal. I moved to her feet and cut off her toes one by one, throwing each toe over my shoulder. Humming to a tune in my head as I happily sliced. I then cut a line from the top of her left foot up her shin to her knee, flaying her leg open. Her terror and pain was
music to my ears with each scream, whimper and curse. I looked at her hands and frowned. I stood and walked to the SUV. There was a tool box in the back. I opened it and rummaged
through the contents. I found some needle nose pliers. I walked back over to her, crouched and grabbed her right hand. One by one, I pulled her long fingernails out. She made high–pitched screams that turned into silent screams when I broke each finger. At one point, she got a boost of adrenaline. She cursed me something fierce, and moved her limbs, trying to break free from her captivity. I threw my head back and laughed. I haven’t felt this delighted
for a while.
“Good for you, I guess I need to step it up.”
There was blood everywhere. Her torso was some of my best artwork. I carved a lot of smiling faces and stars. There were three deep stab wounds. She was now in a pitiful crying
state. She was exhausted. We had been at this for hours. I dug the tip of my knife into her armpits, twisting left and right. I poked her b*obs and then laughed.
“I was hoping they would just deflate. I knew it wouldn’t happen, but it would have been funny to see. I didn’t know yours were fake. Your surgeon did an excellent job.”
She didn’t talk. I think she had gotten into a state where she could escape the pain. I sighed.
2/4
*8 Point:
Playing With My Prey
That was no fun. I stood and picked up the box. In the box was a smaller box, a metal bowl, a
heavy glove and a hand torch.
I flicked her on the forehead over and over until her eyes blinked, they focused on me. Tears
instantly flushed her eyes and fell.
“Thought you could escape, right? That’s a no for me. My pets are hungry. This is where it comes to an end for us. You look like mince meat. Your pretty face is just a bunch of nicks, you look diseased. The tip of your pretty upturned nose is gone. I opened your b*obies, There was surprisingly little blood slicing them open. When I cut Avery’s off she bled profusely. Did
you know Avery?”
She was crying uncontrollably now and didn’t answer me.
“She messed with Sammy and Dashawn too. She’s pig food now. Well, let’s feed my rats.”
I opened my box, grabbed the three that were in there by their tails and laid them on her stomach. She started screaming again. Awesome. I put the metal bowl over them. They were scratching at the bowl and the way she was trying to move, they must have been at her
stomach too.
“PLEASE LYLA, PLEEEEEASE!” she screamed.
I put my elbow on the bowl and put on the glove. I used my gloved hand to hold the bowl and
lit the bowl up. I ran the flame around it. The rats started to panic. Her screams were
becoming hoarse. She started choking and I figured the rats were now starting to eat their way into her to escape the heat of the bowl. It took thirty minutes for her to stop screaming and her body to stop twitching. Her eyes were opened wide, her face frozen in never–ending
terror. I looked at her stomach as I removed the bowl. Three lumps were moving inside of her.
I was completely satisfied. I left her lying there and went shopping. I bought bleach, then lighter fluid and some matches. Since I was told this garage needed to be demolished, I
figured burning it down would work. And since the incineration point was going to be Heather,
her body would burn and so would any DNA’I left behind. I parked outside the garage this time and walked in the open door. I poured bleach all over her and around her, I saw one of the rats
walking across the floor, his stomach rounded.
“Did you eat well, little buddy,” I asked it. I chuckled as it waddled away.
I then poured lighter fluid all over her and some in strategic places. I lit a few matches and
with a whoosh, she went up in flames. I watched for a minute and then walked out, closing
the garage door. I got in the vehicle and drove away. There were no residential buildings in
this area. The surrounding environment was so run–down there were no cameras anywhere. I
3/4
+3 Point
Playing With My Prey
looked at my hands, there was dried blood on them and my arms. I looked in the rearview
mirror and saw I had dried blood on my neck. I shrugged, it was what it was.
As I drove, I saw the group of guys from earlier, and I slammed on the brakes. Not knowing it
was me, I rolled down the window. I looked at the big guy.
“You got a place where we can go?”
He walked up to the window and looked in at me. His eyes were roaming over me. Seeing the
blood, his brow rose.
I just stared at him.
“F*ck it,” he mumbled. He got in. “I got a place. Drive straight and turn right.”
“You won’t regret it,” I said.
“Let’s hope not.”
”
Roc
Hope the rats weren’t too much. LOL.
