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Rating: 4.1
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ID: 6252

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March 21, 2014, 6:56 pm

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A horror short story that was inspired by of one of my Kult rpg characters background. Disturbing content, adult language, graphic descriptions, and horrifying situations are contained within, reader discretion is advised.

Dreams, shadowy specters that woke me screaming in the darkness; until the silence resumed like the breath of a corpse awaiting cremation, or the reapers blade poised over the neck of an old man....

I shuddered at the shadows from within that used to be nightmares, ripping at my soul and shattering my mind while I slept. Until I would wake up screaming my lips covered in blood, and wonder if it was really my own

When I would wake and feel something lurked inside me, and I realized was no longer alone...

I’d tried everything to stop them, but the dreams would send me running, screaming from myself only to find the darkness of sleep beckoned me with a cry of agonizing torture. A pain so intense it bordered on pleasure.

Until the time I awoke from my nightmares only to find that my nightmares were a prelude to reality, and that reality was worse than any nightmare I could have ever imagined…

A foul coppery taste clung in my mouth as I pried my eyelids open, a cold iciness underneath me. I attempted to raise a hand to brush the red locks of hair from my face but found myself promptly strapped to a shoddy, metallic table. My head still ached, though dully. Above me beamed a bright, fluorescent light not unlike those used in hospital operating theaters. Turning my head to the right I saw trays with the implements of surgery and science littered about. Further along the wall I saw vials, microscopes and journals laid open.

Fear crept up my spine as I swallowed hard, and saw the figure of an insidious dark haired man in a pristine white lab coat pulling supplies from a stock room. I hadn't felt this frightened since the night my mother was murdered, and I’d hoped I'd never have to feel that way again, but I was wrong.

”Please”, I pleaded silently, internally, Please, anyone...please...

I froze as I saw the figure pick up a scalpel and paused to stare the metallic sheen. A free hand fiddled with some chalk while he began to dissect my clothing, “Just marking various places for later incision.” He informed me off handedly, pausing to hook me up to a few machines, that displayed my vital signs in a series of soft tones and glowing vibrating lines, pausing, making note of my well toned physique.

"I'm glad to see that you've been taking care of yourself madam. It should make this a little bit easier on you." Suddenly he jabbed a needle into my neck

The drugs acted quickly in altering my senses to the point of making everything sharp as crystal but my bodily control destroyed to the point of near embarrassment.

With a monumental struggle I lifted my head slightly off the table to take a look at the grinning parody of a doctor, and gave him a meaningful middle finger.

"Fuck you."

The light glinting off the scalpel and suddenly being unable to correctly control my body caused me to bite back a cry of fear.

"Rot in hell you son of a bitch."

I knew the threats were useless, but right now, they were all I had.

"Let's take things slow. You'll get some soon; in a manner of speaking."

He motioned to my middle finger before administering another shot to the side of my neck with a fluid grace I found unnerving. The burning sensation that the injection caused to race through my veins made me yelp and whimper.

"Come now surely you’ve been dreaming of being the carrier, of no longer being alone." He cut my nightgown open in such a way that the knife indented, but did not puncture my skin. “Have you by chance taken a look to the left of you?” He questioned me, a slight smile playing about his lips, the mans face striking a spark of recognition somewhere deep inside me, though I couldn't place a name to the face.

With a mixture of dread I slowly twisted my head to the left noticing a fetus laying comfortably on the table next to a photograph of my mother. The mans, deep soothing voice spoke with warming timbre. "It took me quite a while to perfect this one... Tell me, Heather... did you ever want children?"

”How do you know my name?” I asked him beginning to whimper. “You’ll remember that in time.” He replied before pretending to jump and vertically slicing me below the umbilicus, the coldness of the scalpel doing little to numb the lance of stabbing pain. "That should leave a nice little scar." He said to me with a wink as my insides tumbled out like a bag full of sand.

With a transfixed horror I watched the layers of my abdominal wall flap about as if to prevent this mans entry, until he clamped them open.

He smiled again and paused to glance at a bank of machinery my vital signs wavering here and there as he pushed my intestines upward. He moved about my uterus with a delicacy that seemed inhuman, slashing a careful entry point for the fetus.

“Do take care, all subsequent pregnancies will cause this uterine scar to burst, and any future babies will have to be delivered by cesarean section.” He cautioned me, seeming to ignore my look of stark terror.

Carefully he cradled the fetus and placed it within my womb, nestling it firmly in place with a soft cooing. To my infinite disgust I felt it begin to move and realized with additional horror I couldn’t even vomit despite my urge to do so.

Struggling desperately I managed to partially close my eyes, but was still able to see though a dim haze as various parts of my anatomy were being sifted through as the mad doctor snipped, clipped, and tied parts of me together. The pain rose and fell in undulating waves, while he worked, sighing in satisfaction and patting me softly on the head.

Humming a soft almost soothing melody he began to close my uterus and abdomen layer by layer in reverse order using a thick fleshy colored twine that seemed to twist and move as if it was alive.

Smacking his lips in satisfaction, he checked my vital signs one last time, and went to the sink to wash up.

I shivered uncontrollably for long moments as I felt my bladder release itself and some small control of my body return to me "Why....?" I murmured weakly. "What's so different about me than someone else...?"

Wiping his glasses, he dismissed my question with a shrug.

"You're my daughter."

I was shocked silent by the information, attempting to dredge up the memory of my mothers murderer and compare it to this man who claimed to be my sire and prove to myself they were not one and the same.

With a quiet laugh he threw away the scrap of my clothing he used to dry himself off. The room seemed to daze as my body became flooded by pain, his face blurring out of focus as he periodically fed me various chemicals via shot or IV, sometimes leering close enough to whisper how they help preserve the fetus. "Be forewarned my dear, if you fail to carry this full term I'll simply be forced to drag you back here and insert another."

My eyes glared with nothing but contempt at this twisted shell of a man. Each time he injected new chemicals my body reacted differently. Sometimes I felt hotter than the blaze of a thousand suns, and other times, cold as a corpse.

There were times that he would vanish all together from my sight. Occasional shattering noises rebounded off laboratory steel while shuffling of papers and other documents molted about. All the while, bone-shattering screams echoed in places of light and darkness where neither had presence. Returning to me, he sighed.

"I rather liked this little section of purgatory. Pity I have to leave it like this."

I jumped at the sound of his voice as he re-entered my view, but found myself quickly subdued by the tight restraints. My fear was beginning to fade into cold rage as I thought of this man touching my mother, of the way he used to touch me…

With a snarl of hatred I glared icy eyes glared daggers into the lanky man, my hands clenched tightly into fists against the restraints.

"W-What’s going to come next you bastard?" I spoke through chattering teeth, my body wracked by cold spells. "C-coward."

“I don’t recall being the one to cower in the closet leaving your mother to face death all by herself.” His irises sharpened on me to accentuate his point.

I opened my mouth to retort but something screamed again in the background noticeably more feminine than the others. It was as if whoever she was, she had given what little life she had left into voicing death - only to realize that she was still alive. My father flashed a toothy smile, over come with joy.

"Ahh... she's awake. Being re-animated can be a very painful process. Be a good girl and stay put while I run some tests."

I flipped him the finger again as he turned his back to me. Straining I jiggled my arms against the restraints, which held tight. As pointless as it was, it was a consoling feeling to know that I was rebelling against whatever came at me. The effects of the drugs were finally wearing off and I found myself more and more agitated with the fact that I was nude and at the mercy of my mothers killer.

Looking around I was able to make out this "lab" was dismal, and the screams continued out of my vision coupled with inconsolable sobbing. With a grimace of frustration and fear my eyes wandered about more to the large, open ceiling from which warped pipes could be seen, adding a dreary element. The sobs got closer as time passed by, as did the echoing sound of footsteps against the concrete floor.

"Heather, I'd like you to meet someone."

Willing my head to look above my chest, nothing prepared me for what I was to witness next. It was a soulless shell of a woman, who continued to wail considerably. Long, matted scarlet hair lay tumbled over the shoulders and eyes of a walking corpse. Its skin was ashen, hanging paper thin over a delicate bone structure.

Then it lifted up its head, and I choked on a scream.

It was my mother.

"Such a soft-hearted girl. Which is what I found most interesting... She had no courage to resist what I did to her, yet stayed married to me for several years."

He fished a hand through my mothers hair, enshrouding the length of her arm with his own. Their shadows flickered together. At any moment my father might have pounced for the kill, but continued to dance around his prey instead. A slight click shackled both her wrists together.

"Then I allowed her to become pregnant so I could have another toy to amuse myself with." With a devious grin he set her aside and absent mindedly stroked my breast. “I figured you should have a chance see each other one last time before you go home."

With a sardonic smile he extended his hand and touched me lightly on the forehead, my world becoming enveloped in darkness once more….



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Comments ( 6 )
Commenters gain extra XP from Author votes.

Voted Murometz
February 15, 2011, 12:15
5xp

Gruesome! That is the first word that comes to mind.

I guess the second thought is, "what happens next?", which is my way of saying, I liked the tale. Kept me interested in seeing what Dr. Vile, the fetus-implanter, was up to...

Silveressa
February 20, 2011, 23:58
0xp
What happened next would be more of a (lengthy) campaign synopsis, the length of a short novel, which I could probably detail in installments if anyone was truly interested...
Voted MysticMoon
February 21, 2011, 10:44
5xp

Ditto what Muro said.

Voted Michael Jotne Slayer
February 22, 2011, 7:52
5xp

Kult, one of the few games where you use a 20 sided dice and it is not a d20system. Kult is also one of those games where I as a GM go the extra mile in graphic and mature content as opposed to CoC. So, over to your submission, I am not a major fan of first-person narratives but this is some fine writing. I became intrigued and wanted to know more about your character and that is a job well done in my book. The fiction section is becoming a place worthy of the citadel. Well done Sil.

Voted Cheka Man
March 29, 2014, 14:57
Only voted
Voted Kassy
June 2, 2014, 10:34
0xp
Ooh! Can't believe I haven't read this before! Well done Sil!

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