All in a night's work nosleep

A green ford explorer turned down a lonely residential street. The vehicle maneuvered into a dark spot between the vigilant gaze of 2 street lights and parked. As the machine shuttered into dormancy the man inside took a deep breath. Sympathy for the Devil by the Rolling Stones was playing on the radio. While the man never cared much for music, he always enjoyed the guitar work of Keith Richards. He felt a twinge of irony and smiled. As the song drew to an end he shut off his car and took a deep breath. He put on a pair of black leather gloves, grabbed his bag and stepped out onto the street. It was one of those piercingly dark nights, where there’s a seemingly unnatural feeling in the air. The man also found that ironic and smiled again. He quietly shut his car door and started walking down the street. 

The house was a small Cape Cod style. The instructions had said it was olive colored, but the man could barely tell in the dark. He looked at the house number and saw it matched. The man walked on the lawn to prevent his footsteps from betraying his presence. He opened the gate to the backyard. The instructions said there wouldn’t be a dog, which was good. The man hated when there were dogs, the creatures made things more difficult. The backyard was empty and bordered by a poorly kept garden. The man smiled, he felt you could tell a lot about someone by their garden. He walked to the back door, reached into his jacket breast pocket, and pulled out the right key. He put the key in the slot and slowly turned it. It worked, and he quietly slid inside. He found himself in a small kitchen, just like the floor plan had showed him. He carefully set his bag on the table in the middle of the room. He pulled out several lengths of rope, a roll of duct tape, and a syringe that was inside of a padded container. The man then took a right down the thin hallway that stemmed from the kitchen with his materials. The instructions had said the first door would be the girls. The door was open, thankfully. All of his caution could’ve been for nothing just because of a creaky door. This had happened before. The instructions said she was 34, but she looked younger. Almost pretty too. She was sleeping on her side, with an arm sticking out, which made things easier. The man quietly walked up to her bed and put his rope and duct tape on her nightstand. In a quick motion, he stuck the syringe into her arm and injected the fluid. She remained motionless, a sign that the agent had worked. The man quickly duct taped her mouth and tied her arms and legs together. He stood up and admired how he easily he got her. One down one to go, he thought.

The instructions said the second door was the boy’s. The man left the girl’s room with the duct tape and some rope. He saw the boy’s door was closed. The instructions said the boy was 9, so a creaky door shouldn’t present an issue. The man pushed open the door to find the little boy sound asleep. The man quickly duct taped and tied him in the same fashion as his mother. The agent he had injected into the mother usually kills children quickly, and that would violate what the instructions told him to do. The man got up and left the abruptly awoken child squirming in his bed. He remembered the floor plan showed him there was a laundry room without any windows. The man found the room easily. He put two chairs and his kit in there, then went to retrieve the girl and boy.

The man had make the chemical in the syringe strong enough to put the mother out for 20 minutes and 7 had passed since he injected her. He set the girl and the boy in the two chairs and duct taped them in so they could move even less, but not before he ripped off all of their clothes. Once they were both secure, the man took a step back to survey his work. The mother was slumped over, unconscious. Good. The boy was wide-eyed with absolute terror. Also good. The next step on the instructions was to be creative. This was the part the man was really good at. He stripped naked, leaving on only his old school hockey mask. He liked this mask, it scared people for some reason. He placed his clothes in the hall. Now, to wait for the girl to awake so he could begin.

The girl slowly awoke. As she came to, her expression of drowsiness turned to one of total fear. Now the man could begin. He thought for a second and realized how pretty the girl was and he begun to feel aroused. That’s a good place to start, the man thought. He chided himself for duct taping her to the chair. As he slowly removed the duct tape securing her to the chair, he got an idea. He smiled at his creative thoughts. The man secured the girl. He then walked to his bag and pulled out a machete and a blowtorch, and walked over to the boy. The boy quivered in absolute terror. The man set the blowtorch down and grabbed the boy’s genitals with his massive hand. He then went to work with his machete, first castrating the boy, then cutting off the penis. The man once enjoyed the screams, then he learned that the silence made it more fun. Holding the severed body parts in his giant hand, he looked directly into the eyes of the hysterically crying boy. He then directed his attention to the horrified girl. He walked up to her, and ripped the duct tape off of her mouth. The room filled with a bloodcurdling scream, the sound that pigs make as they’re being slaughtered. The girl’s mouth was wide open from the screaming, which made things easy. The man shoved the boy’s genitals into the girl’s mouth, and forced it shut. He then duct taped her mouth back shut, and added another band of tape for good measure. The man then saw how much the boy was bleeding. He had forgot to solder the wound. Silly me, he thought as he smiled. The man took the blowtorch, turned it on and fired it directly into the open wound of the child. The absence of screams turned the man on even more. He dropped the torch, went over to the girl, and begun to remove the duct tape that fastened her to the chair. The man then raped her in various ways for the next hour.

As the man finished up with the girl, he realized his lack of attention to the boy, who was now slumped over. He checked the boy’s heart rate and pulse. Both were indicative that the boy was close to death. The man felt he had to finish him off. Then, the man got an idea. He left the room and walked to the kitchen. He found the oven. He opened the door and looked inside. Perfect size, he thought. He then set it to 475 degrees, the highest it would go. The man walked back to the laundry room.

He found his two victims where he left them, the girl shivering. The man then thought for another second. Another good idea entered his mind. He walked over to his bag and pulled out a ball-peen hammer. He flipped the girl over onto her back. Her eyes were shut and her head was turned to the side. She glanced up just as the man was raising the hammer in the air. He brought it down with immense force directly onto the middle of her shin bone. Her body convulsed in pain. The man raised the hammer up, and swung again. He hit the same bone four more times. Each time the girl convulsed just the same. The movements reminded the man of a gardener snake frantically slithering away. The man then swung his hammer in a circle around his body, spinning like a dancer at the same time to build momentum. Using the momentum, he swung the hammer directly into the stomach of the boy, who fell backwards in his chair. Just as the boy hit the ground, the man heard a beep. Good, he thought. Time to finish this one. He pulled the duct tape fastenings off of the bloodied and mutilated boy and lifted him over his shoulder. He carried the boy to the kitchen and opened the oven. Then the man got another idea. It had been a while since he enjoyed a little boy. The man then begun to rape the little boy. As he got close, he shoved the boy into the oven and worked on finishing himself off. The barely conscious boy writhed in pain as the hot metal grate forced him to wake. The boy’s legs kicked as the man finished on the young child. He then shoved the boy into the oven and shut the door. The man realized that the boy might be able to get out. The man then noticed there was a refrigerator nearby. He pulled the thing down onto its side and pushed it in front of the oven door. The door was shaking like, well, it was being kicked by a child about to be cooked alive. With the fridge in place, the man walked back to the laundry room.

He found the girl lying motionless and bleeding profusely from her battered leg. The man was getting bored, time to finish things. He picked up his machete off the floor. He then got down on one knew behind the girl and slowly begun to plunge his machete up her already bloodied vagina. The feeling of the blade entering her made the girl squirm in pain, and her legs rose up and kick the man in the arm. In her suddenness, the blade also cut the wall inside her. The man dropped the machete in surprise. Her retaliation angered him. In an impulsive move, he flipped her over, picked up his machete and slit her throat deep. Blood flowed out of the gash like a mountain stream as her eyes rolled back in her head. The man chided himself for his impulsiveness, he hadn’t wanted to kill her just yet. But this had still been a great experience for him. He loved his profession deeply. He loaded his tools into his bag, cleaning them off with a towel he found on the wall as he did so. The man took off his mask and walked into the kitchen. The oven door had stopped moving and there was a scent of cooking meat in the air. The man smiled at this and went to look for the bathroom.

The man found the bathroom and begun to shower. He whistled as he scrubbed the blood off of his pale white skin. As he finished up washing himself, the smell of meat crept into the bathroom. The man quickly dried himself and ran to shut off the oven. After flipping the dial to zero, he walked to the hallway where he had left his clothes and got dressed. He walked to the laundry room and looked inside to admire his work one last time. The man left the room and looked out the window and saw the sky was starting to turn the blue-greyish color it did shortly before the sun poked over the horizon. This had taken longer than he had planned. The man grabbed his bag and rushed out the back door, but was careful to make sure it shut without any noise. He then walked calmly to his car, and threw his bag into the back seat. As he settled into his seat he took a long breath. His exhale was interrupted by the vibration of his burner phone. The man pulled out the shoddy device. A blocked number had texted him some coordinates and a code word. The man smiled at the thought of more work. He whistled the tune to Gimme Shelter as he started his car, and drove off into the dawn. All in a night's work, he thought.

Submitted September 27, 2015 at 04:27AM by basketfoot http://ift.tt/1iCaF1l nosleep