Torture Porn Page 6

  I, in my drunken and horny state of mind, made my way deep into the woods and toward the lake. I tried to picture the face of this woman. I imagined her with brown hair at first, than blond. I soon realized that I imagined her to be a white woman because that’s all that lived in Eutaw. She’s speaking another language, so surely she must be foreign. She could be Asian or Indian; Brazilian maybe. I wasn’t too educated then, nor am I now by any means, but I didn’t know what any of these kinds of women looked like so I just pictured white women with brown skin. The song, although I didn’t understand it, seemed full of sadness and loneliness. Was she depressed, did her boyfriend leave her by the lake during an argument? Had the Alabama Gods blessed me to become her knight in shining armor?

  As I closed ground on the voice I saw a dark silhouette in the distance. It was indeed a woman. I couldn’t see any features, just the dark outline. She seemed to be sitting on a small island of earth in the center of the lake. How did she get there? She had to swim, and if she swam there she had wet clothes on. Maybe she had no clothes at all.

  When I got close enough I started to walk to my right so I could see her in the moonlight. My jaw hit the floor. She was stunning. Her skin was brown. It wasn’t the normal brown color of human skin but more of an earth tone. It was full with hints of red. Her hair was long and flowing. Its color was a bright mossy green.

  She was naked. Her breasts were big and perky. Lost in her cleavage she wore some sort of necklace which I couldn’t make out from where I stood. I got closer, so close that I came to the water’s edge but still had trouble seeing her. She stopped singing and turned in my direction and I froze.

  Her eyes were blue, but not the blue of any girl I had ever seen. They were icy, frozen as she stared at me. They seemed to glow in the night and even give off a light mist. Her lower body was lost in the shadows and I wanted to see more of this exotic beauty. For some reason I kept thinking she must be from Iran or something. I never seen an Iranian at that time but I thought they might look like this. Then she spoke clear English.

  “Come closer handsome.” Her voice was beautiful but sounded dreamlike. Did her lips even move? I could’ve sworn they didn’t. It didn’t matter, I wanted her. I tore my shirt and pants off. I stripped down to my underwear. She motioned with her finger for me to remove them. I did. I now stood there, completely naked and then she motioned for me to come to her. I ran into the lake and swam toward the little island.

  Once I reached land I quickly pulled myself up. I was an attractive man in those days and my hair was a little long. I pushed the brown strands from my eyes to behind my ear. As I allowed my eyes to adjust to the night I gasped as I saw the woman up close and almost fell back into the lake. You see, from the waist up she was human. Sure she had unusual skin and hair color, but this was nothing compared to the waist down. She looked like a lake trout. She had no legs, but a massive greenish colored fin. It was coiled beneath her as she sat on the little bit of land.

  “By the Alabama Gods, are you a mermaid?” I asked stupidly. She didn’t answer, just giggled. This had sobered me up. I felt something in her presence. I felt comfort, I felt safe, and I felt as if everything in my life would be just fine from this point forward. She brought a beautiful feeling I had been searching for my entire life…inner peace.

  Her ice cold hand gripped my naked arm and before I could realize what had happened I was being pulled through the lake. I descended and as I looked around I saw hundreds of fish swimming past me. Who would have known so much life existed in this tired old lake. Then it struck me. How was I seeing this? It was night, but somehow my vision was able to see everything. I could even see the bottom of the lake, something I couldn’t see even during the day from the surface. Then I realized another oddity, I could breathe. I was underwater and could breathe!

  The mermaid continued to pull me toward the bottom of the lake where we approached a cave. She pulled me inside and we barreled through a long tunnel. After what seemed like ten minutes we suddenly pulled up and we were in a pocket of air. As we came to the surface I saw dry land. Here she let go of me and climbed ashore. I pulled myself up as well and stood before the exotic beauty. She smiled at me and giggled as her icy hand reached out to my genitals. She slowly massaged it. Here I was, underwater and with a real mermaid and all I could think about was where her pussy was?

  She moved toward me and dropped her head below my waist. I felt her wrap those beautiful lips around my dick. My eyes closed and I remember wondering how on earth I would explain to my friends that a mermaid gave me a blow job. They wouldn’t believe me, so this would be my secret, a beautiful mermaid all to myself.

  And then a smell hit my nostril that I didn’t notice earlier. That stink, it reminded me of the trash outside the butcher shop. The trash cans that were full of rotting pig heads and other spoiled meat. The stink was similar. I opened my eyes and looked around me.

  Everywhere I looked I saw small bones. Some were in little piles while others were tied to strings for decoration. The stink originated from the half decayed bodies of children. They had been gutted as little piles of gore collected at their feet. How many were in this little subterranean cave? Then one dead face caught my eye. I recognized it well for she had gone missing not more than a week ago. Then I recognized another, and yet another. I looked down at the mermaid as she continued to perform oral sex on me and realized that it was she who was responsible for the missing children in Eutaw.

  It had to be her song, like the Siren’s in ancient Greek lore. The enchanting song attracted them to her, much as it did for me. She then pulled them down and ate them. Did she plan on eating me to? I suddenly felt ill and reached down, pulling her off me.

  She looked up at me confused. I shook my head. “These children, I know them. I know these children. You’ve killed them.”

  I explained this rather calmly, afraid of what she might do. She just looked at me seemingly emotionless, but then I saw the tear running down her cheek. I hurt her feelings. My rejection, it hurt her. I realized at that moment that I was judging the actions of something I didn’t understand. Maybe this is how she ate, much like me and my Pa would hunt deer. She was obviously lonely, and I must have given her something she hadn’t in a long time…attention.

  Now I hurt her. I began to fear how she would react. I stepped back and she looked up at me. “Go then.”

  She grabbed ahold of my arm and before I knew it we were tearing back through the tunnel at absurd speeds. We pulled out of the cave and back into the vast open water. She pulled me to the surface and before I knew it she was gone, lost beneath me. I remained there for a bit, floating in the lake. Then I saw her floating nearby.

  I felt bad that I hurt her. She killed those children I knew so well, but who am I to judge her for that. She’s not human, so she isn’t a cannibal, just a hunter. How many times have I eaten veal? That’s baby cow. Maybe to her, human kids are like veal.

  I had insulted her and wanted to apologize. I wanted to explain my insulting behavior. I approached her and reached out. It wasn’t her. I felt my hand wrapped around the small naked corpse of the little girl who disappeared a week ago, the girl I saw in the cave. Her eyeless face looked up at me in the moonlight. I felt ill as I stared at the little girl’s corpse. Then I heard small splashing sounds all around me. My initial fear was that the mermaid had friends, other mermaids and my insult made them all mad. I figured they would take me below the surface and tear me apart.

  There were no other mermaids. What had been splashing all around me were the small bodies from the cave surfacing. All around me I was surrounded by the missing children of Eutaw.

  “What the fuck?” The voice came from the shore; it was a voice I knew well. It was Sheriff Jack Tanner. “Boy, I suggest you come to shore and surrender yourself or I’ll shoot you dead in the water. Let the gators eat your fucking ass up.”

  That night I was arrested and charged with the death of forty six children. I told them the story
about the mermaid. They obviously didn’t believe it. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that police realized that some of these children had been killed when I was no older than an infant, others before I was even born. I was released from the town jail and a dive team entered the lake.

  I waited ashore and watched for hours. They came up with nothing, didn’t even find the cave. The report read that I discovered a dumping spot to a serial killer. My mermaid story was removed from record.

  To this day I return to what is now Tanner’s Lake and wait for the mermaid. I haven’t seen her since. I sit out there and wait, straining my ears to hear that enchanting song which I can still hear in my head on quiet nights. Even after all these years, I still wanted nothing more than to apologize.

  Translucence

  Translucence: A disease in which the skin becomes semitransparent and takes on a cloudy appearance in which the organs and muscles are seen beneath the skin.

  He watched them as they played outside. He always watched them. His glassy eyes darted wildly; desperate to capture every moment. He’d laugh and giggle as he watched the kids pretend to be pirates. He would bite his nails as he witnessed intense shootouts when they pulled out their plastic guns and played cops and robbers. When they played tag he imagined the exhilaration and adrenaline that one employed as they ran to avoid being it. He vicariously lived an ordinary childhood from this filthy cellar window. When the children would go home, and the day concluded, he would return to the shadows.

  As they took off, and said their goodbyes, the boy peeled away exhausted. He felt like he had been among them, playing. His muscles had ghost aches which added a sense of reality.

  “Damn, when Corey was running from Becky and turned that corner and almost collided with Bobby. I thought they would be bopping heads for sure. Earlier, when playing pirates, I could have sworn the evil pirate king, Peg Leg Bill, would have the last laugh. Boy do I feel stupid. I should have known Captain Peterson would crush him. He walked the plank and those sharks had one hell of a meal.” He shook his head amused as he crossed the cold stone floor. He stopped at the mirror; the quicksilver glass was there to always remind him of what he was; a monster.

  He looked into this mirror every day and hoped one of these time he’d see a normal boy; every day was another disappointment. His skin was still semi-transparent. It looked like a sick, hazy mix that served as a window to his insides. He looked like one of those pictures in a biology book, the one which showed where all the organs were located. His eyes were round and could be seen even when his lids were closed. He saw his heart beating against white ribs and the muscles that surrounded it. He saw his lungs swell and deflate…all evidence of life but was this life he was living?

  His mother told him that the world wouldn’t understand. Society was enslaved to ignorance and prejudice she had told him. She had told him that they would call him a monster, and try to hurt and even try to kill him. “They will bash you with sticks and burn you alive. I’ve seen them do it because some people have black skin, imagine what they’d do to a boy with no skin color.” That is what she said, however he just didn’t see it.

  These kids outside, they seemed so nice. Their play was sincere and he couldn’t see any sense of hatred in them. They weren’t the malicious individuals his mother made them out to be; they were loving life and took full advantage of it. They were human, just like him.

  He believed mother was wrong, but mother’s law ruled. She was second only to god. She said that to him one night when he tried to challenge her. She was a strong woman and her strength became overbearing when his father died. She lived upstairs by herself now and cast him to the basement; two lonely people under the same roof.

  Well he wasn’t totally lonely; there was Rodney.

  Rodney was a rat that shared this cellar. He was always close by, and often the nameless child would have long conversations with the rodent. Rodney never participated of course, but he did seem to listen quite well.

  “Hey Rodney.” The child called out as the rat trotted across the filthy cement floor. It stopped and looked up at the child. “Yeah I have been looking out that window again. What’s it to you? You’re still my pal.”

  The boy collapsed onto his dad’s old army cot. His dad had died in Iraq. His mother had told him Iraq was full of treacherous, godless monsters who loved killing innocent Americans. What made them a monster was something mom called Islam. She once called it a religion of whores. For weeks the boy was confused, trying to figure out what a whore was. He held his ear to the vents to hear the television upstairs. After hearing the word a few more times he figured a whore is a woman no one likes.

  How could a religion be a woman that no one likes?

  “I know Rodney. It’s torture. I just don’t believe mom. I don’t think she’s right. The kids; they’re all around the same age as me, eight years or so. They have fun and I don’t think it’s fair that mom won’t let me outside.”

  Rodney just stared at him.

  Upstairs he heard the cellar door knob turning. It was his mother. Was it feeding time already? Quickly he turned to Rodney and with his hands made a shooing motion.

  “Get going Rodney, mom will try to kill you for sure.”

  The little rodent trotted off back into the darkness and just in time. Suddenly the dank and dark domain of this child was invaded with the artificial light from a normal world, a world alien to him. Cast in the doorway was the silhouette of his mother.

  She made her way down the stairs. Each step she took made the old wooden steps moan and creak. When she reached the bottom she dropped a plastic bag on the ground. Although she was only thirty years old she looked ancient. Her short blond hair brushed behind her ears. Her thin frame was beginning to puff up; the years had been cruel to her.

  “I left you a sandwich and an apple.” Quickly her attention was stolen by the cellar window. The condensation had been recently wiped off. Her face began to squish up as the anger flushed her pale features red. “You little fucking bastard, I told you to leave this goddamn window alone.”

  “I’m not doing anything wrong, just looking out.”

  “I don’t like it, no not at all. People could see you and they’d burn this house down. They wouldn’t understand, no they wouldn’t. You’re jeopardizing both of our lives.” She ran over to it and quickly covered the window with the sheet she hung from a nail. As she dressed it up to conceal it better she froze. Suddenly her anger was re-directed. “My god, these are rat droppings. Child, we got rats down here?”

  “No, just one and he’s not dirty; he’s a friend.”

  “You truly are a curse boy. Satan put rats on this earth to disease god’s people. Now know this, I will have this window boarded up tomorrow and I am baiting the place for rodents.” The boy felt his world collapsing. His heart sped up at he felt ill.

  “Mama, please don’t do this. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “You’re birth was wrong.” With this she stormed up the stairs and slammed the door behind her. The boy heard the locks engage. He scampered around looking for Rodney.

  “Rodney, we need to get you out of here. My mother is going to kill you.” The little rodent came running out from behind some old boxes and stopped at the boy’s feet. The child began to tear up. “I don’t want you to go but if you don’t leave my mom will kill you.”

  The rat stared at the child.

  “What?”

  The rat turned its head slightly.

  “Rodney, that…that’s murder.”

  The rat continued its hard stare.

  “But if I kill her I’ll go to prison. I want to play with the other boys not go to jail.”

  The rat’s tail dropped a little.

  “I don’t know.”

  The rat looked down.

  “Ok then Rodney. I love you and want nothing to ever happen to you. I’ll do anything for you.”

  They next day the child was impatient. He couldn’t sleep the night before, dream
ing of being in the world with the normal kids. He looked at himself in the mirror and tried to convince himself that they wouldn’t be afraid. He saw his blood flowing throughout his body in a network of veins. He watched his muscles twitch and strain as he lift his arm. He closed his eyes, yet still he saw through the lids. He wasn’t a monster like his mother had said; he was a human with an unfortunate disease.

  The world would understand.

  He replayed the plan of Rodney through his head. It was a good plan and he knew it would work well. Rodney told him to tell the police about the lifetime of abuse; of imprisonment. Rodney told him that no right minded person on this earth would put an abused child in prison.

  The locks on the door began to disengage. The time was now. He needed to get his nerve up; needed to get himself ready to pounce. She came down the stairs holding some plywood and a hammer. She intended on totally destroying his only connection to the world. The miserable little bitch brushed past him, her long blue dress touching his arm briefly. The whore didn’t even acknowledge him. Her dopey eyed glance proved this task she was set out to do was a burden, a wrinkle in her day. Wasn’t he the wrinkle in her life? As she put the hammer and wood down he felt his hatred overwhelm him.

  She was the reason he wasn’t normal.

  She was the reason he had no friends.

  She was the reason for all this misery.

  He wasn’t her burden, she was his. He surely did something wrong to deserve such a bitch for a mother. She really didn’t think he was a monster; would you lay a hammer on the floor within arm’s reach of a monster and then turn your back? Of course you wouldn’t. She just hated him, and he hated her. That stupid cunt looking at the window trying to find the best possible way to block him from the outside world; why not just kill him? She took every possible joy from life and kept him away from it, why not just kill him and get it over with? She was a sadist and actually enjoyed his misery.