Shrink SuspenStories

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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Shrink SuspenStories

Post by Bloodthirstybutcher » Thu Oct 07, 2021 1:56 pm

This project was inspired by old pulps and the old EC comics of the 1950s. I love horror anthologies, for better or worse, and decided to create my own. I’ll release a new story every week leading up to Halloween for a total of four. I’d also like to give a huge shout out to Sally G for providing me with a cover. You can check out her collages and stories over at deviantart if you haven’t already.

https://www.deviantart.com/collage4u

Anyway, without further adieu, here’s Shrink SuspenStories!

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"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."

-Super Hans, Peep Show

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Re: Shrink SuspenStories

Post by Bloodthirstybutcher » Thu Oct 07, 2021 1:59 pm

This Is The City After All

by BTB




Ashley DeLorenzo awoke with a gasp, her lungs taking in air like that of a middle aged man with sleep apnea.  Still, it hurt to breath... and as she became more conscious she realized her entire body felt stiff and sore, particularly a couple spots on her back.  The worst nausea she'd ever experienced churned in her gut, threatening to expel at any moment.  But that wasn't just it... she couldn't move.  Her legs... her arms... her head... hell, she couldn't even open her eyelids.  Something was wrapped around her, binding her movements.  A bag maybe?  Tape?  Oh god!  Was it tape?!

Her morning grogginess was instantly replaced by all consuming dread.  She could hear machinery... no... it was the sound of vehicles... traffic rushing by.  The sound was almost deafening, perhaps she was close to the freeway.  'Oh god,' she thought, 'that's it!  Some incel psycho abducted me last night... bound me up... had his way with me... then left me for dead on the side of the fucking freeway.'  The thought of what this individual could have done to her made her blood run cold.  This was the city after all, and there was no shortage of creeps walking the streets of Hollywood.

The urge to call out for help choked up in her throat.  What if this wasn't the side of the highway?  What if she were under an overpass or something?  

What if she wasn't alone?

What if he was still there?

Ashley's body began to tremble uncontrollably, but as she did, she found that the very surface beneath her vibrated along with her.  She wiggled herself a little to get a better feel for what lay beneath her, and as she did it felt like she was strapped to a trampoline.  

"What the fuck is going on?"  She whispered to herself in frustration.

Ashley then realized she couldn't remember anything after leaving the movie premier the previous evening.  Her boyfriend's latest mind-numbingly stupid shoot-em-up.  'Christ,' she thought as she had to suffer another two hours of cars jumping into helicopters, 'how can someone so handsome and smart want to star in this trash.  Even the smartest men can be such simpletons.'  But even that thought alone began to lift some of the fog.  She remembered that her particular distaste for this movie led to an argument between the two of them.  He chastised her for not being supportive and Ashley stormed off down Hollywood Boulevard in the middle of the night with no desire to listen to it.

"You fucking idiot," she cursed herself out loud.  "How could you be so stupid?"  Her mind felt like a movie... like she was watching someone else wearing her skin trying to fuck up her life.  I suppose finding oneself in extreme situations can do that to a person.

Using one of her long, immaculately manicured nails, Ashley began to wiggle her thumb back and forth in an attempt to cut through the tape.  It was slow going and her mobility was almost zero.  She continued trying to piece together what had happened to her the previous evening.  With the trouble she was having doing so, Ashley was certain she'd been drugged.

Where the hell did she think she was going?  She was a famous movie star!  Was she just going to get on the subway at Hollywood and Vine and ride it home with the drug addicts and whores?!  Her stunning red dress and designer heels may have dropped jaws on the red carpet, but they would have made her a target on the grimy streets of Hollywood after dark.

This was the city after all.

She had to have been inebriated to begin with.  Of course!  How else would she have made it through that godawful film?!  No wonder Ben, her boyfriend, was so pissed at her!  Why else would she have wandered off into the night like that?!  Ashley realized then that her own stubborn self righteousness and snobbery could have set in motion the events that led to her distressing situation... or even death.

But she was still alive... and she was determined to stay that way.  She continued working away at the tape until she could wiggle her entire thumb through the hole.  "Well... it's a start," she whispered to herself.  One thing was for certain, if she got out of this alive, there wasn't a single film Ben could make that she wouldn't be the first in line to see.  If she made it out, she'd spend the rest of her life making it up to him.

She continued to try and force the memories to come, mostly just blurry images and wavy horizons... like her head was filled with Dutch angles.  For some reason, the image of Bela Lugosi's name rushing at her face kept popping into her head.  'What the fuck does that mean?  Oh shit!  I fell,' Ashley realized.  It was Mr. Lugosi's star on the Walk of Fame that she had the pleasure of meeting face to face.  

In fact she had tripped... over a person.  

Suddenly, Ashley's hand ripped through her binds, hitting the pause button on her thoughts.  She stretched and flexed her fingers in victory, then eagerly kept working the sticky tape further to free her arm while beginning the same process with the other hand.

The moment Ashley had fallen popped back into her head.  She'd landed face down, obviously, with Dracula's alter ego spelled out on the concrete at the tip of her nose.  Her Prada shoes and Gucci purse had gone flying as she fell and her dress was soiled and torn.  Had she tripped over the curb?  Struggling back to her feet through the waves of inebriation, the feel of the grimy, sticky sidewalk beneath her pampered bare feet made her cringe with disgust.  

Ashley turned to see what had caused her unexpected descent, finding a homeless man stretched out on his newspaper bed.  The poor tramp was missing both legs below the knee, and looked irritated to be rocked from his drunken slumber by the stumbling starlet.

"What the fuck is your problem?!"  Ashley chastised, "can't you find somewhere to sleep it off that isn't in the middle of the goddamn sidewalk?!"

The man said nothing, he just furrowed his brow at Ashley and glared at her intensely.

"What?  You missing your tongue too, you old creep?!"  She continued.  As Ashley's recollections continued to reveal themselves, she shuddered with embarrassment at how much of an asshole she could be when drunk... or perhaps she was just an asshole, and the booze just revealed her show her true colors.  "Do you have any idea who I am?!  Fucking apologize you fucking bum!"

The man just sat there, propped up with a single arm, maintaining the same look of focused contempt for the obnoxious woman berating him.

"You know what?  You fucking bums are all the same.  Poor you!  I've made something of myself!  I'm famous... and rich... in fact, I bet this dress you fucking ruined cost more than a year's worth of your unemployment checks."

The shame almost overshadowed her fear as Ashley continued to blow away the fog.  Was this the guy?  Could this crippled beggar have been the one who somehow abducted her?  Given his state, it seemed highly unlikely, but if he was, she knew she'd done everything in her power to push him to do it. 

Ashley's forearm burst through the sticky binds, causing her to bounce slightly on the unsteady surface.  This time it was matched by a much stronger vibration that followed.  Ashley froze.

'Oh god... I'm not alone.'

She thought of pleading to her captor to let her go... to appeal to his humanity any way she could.  But if this was the drifter from the previous evening, she hadn't shown him any humanity herself.  She just held still.  Waiting until the shaking stopped.  Waiting to see if he'd make a move.  

There was nothing.

Several agonizingly long minutes passed before she decided to resume her escape attempt.  Her forearm was free, but the upper arm was still pinned against her body and she still couldn't reach the tape blinding.  Except... it wasn't tape.  It felt more like rope... or elastic under her free hand.  What the hell was going on?

More of the previous night's veil began to lift from her memory.  To her own self-disgust, she wasn't done with the poor homeless man.

"Why don't you get a job, you fucking piece of shit?!"  Ashley yelled mockingly at the old man.  She leaned over and snatched up her heels in grand, exaggerated swipes... then her purse, and clutched all three in a single hand.  This freed up the other hand to punctuate every horrible point she was trying to make with an accusatory finger.

"Parasites... that's all you are.  Like little... little fucking... little fucking vampires!  You suck this city's resources dry... you rely on those of us who earn a living to bail you out constantly... and offer nothing in return."  Ashley laughed maniacally to herself with her next thought, "except, of course, the excuse you've now given me to go shopping in Beverly Hills tomorrow to replace the clothing you've destroyed... so in that case, I say thank you, sir."  

Ashley sarcastically curtsied to the unamused man.  He still hadn't moved.  If he had given her some kind of reaction perhaps she would have stopped there, but he didn't.  So she pressed harder.  She got close to him.  She crouched down so she could see every crack and crevice of his hideously deformed face.  She lifted her finger once more and wagged it right between his eyes.

"Bet you'd love to eat this pussy, wouldn't you?  You dirty... worthless piece of shit," she whispered into his face.

'Oh fuck no,' Ashley thought to herself in utter shame, 'I didn't...'.  If she could have reached her own face, Ashley's palm most certainly would have met it. 

"You ain't ever gonna get pussy this good, old man.  Nothing short of a Porsche and a house in the Hills will get you in here."

"I'm so sorry," she couldn't help,but say out loud... to anyone who was willingly near really.  Tears began to find their way out of the corners of her blindfolded eyes and roll down her cheeks.

"Here's a suggestion, old man... how about you do us all a favor and find a nice tall bridge, then throw yourself into the LA River... or maybe... is there a hole back there in Vietnam or Iraq or wherever 'heros' such as yourself can crawl back into."  She narrowed her eyes and cracked a snotty smile, "go fuck yourse-."

The drifter surprised Ashley, cutting her off before she could make her final eloquent insult.  He grabbed her by the wildly flailing finger with unexpected speed and squeezed it until she felt pain.  Ashley's entire demeanor changed from arrogance to shock and fear.  She tried to pry her hand away from the old man, but his grip was far too strong.  His demeanor had changed as well.  Gone was the intense stare, replaced by a devious smile and a glint in his eye.  His teeth had almost entirely rotted from his mouth and his foul breath filled Ashley's nostrils.

"Let go!  I said let go, you fucking creep!"  She stood back up as she tried to pry her digit from his paw.  

The man's strength was far greater than she had anticipated... he just pulled her back down to his level.  This time he chuckled a wheezy, breathless laugh right into her face.  With his last remaining tooth, he bit hole hole into the palm of his own hand and then smeared a red streak of blood across Ashley's face.  The woman was so shocked with disgust that she didn't know what to do.  Then... it was his turn to raise a finger.  The digit was long, bony... the knuckles resembling the knots of an ancient tree.  His nails were yellow and broken and smelled of shit.

For the first time, he spoke.

It wasn't English, that was certain.  Ashley had traveled the world as an actress, seen many a country, heard many a language.  This wasn't like anything she'd ever heard.  She had to be extremely intoxicated because it felt as though each syllable had power in it... like the very sounds coming from his stinking maw were affecting her.

Ashley could only assume he was done when he began to laugh again and released his hold in her finger.  She fell backwards and and scurried away from him on her ass.  His laugh echoed through the streets as she stumbled to her feet and took off into the night.  The world was waver than ever and it didn't seem to matter how hard she ran, she wasn't getting away from him.  And his laugh only grew louder, overpowering the sound of her own panting and bare feet slapping against the sidewalk.  The world began to spin and her effects felt heavy and burdensome.

And that's where the fog in Ashley's mind became to dark and thick to penetrate.  It didn't matter though, because her arm had finally snapped free of its binds.  Once again, the surface beneath her wobbled like a trampoline... and once again it was met with an even greater force that bounced her violently where she lay.  

...and then... an echoing laugh reverberated through her unseeable surroundings.  It vibrated the very ties that bound her.  It shook her to her bones.  

She knew that laugh.  She knew the stench that filled the air around her.  

It was him.  He was there. 

He had her.

"Pleeeease!  Sir!  I'm sorry!  Please!  Let me go!  I won't tell anyone, I promise!"

Ashley's last remark only seemed to make the man laugh harder.  His voice was so loud it was unbearable.  What was he doing?  Holding a megaphone up to her ear?  As the quaking began to subside, Ashley could finally bring her hand to her face to pull the sticky substance from her eyes.  The morning light was blinding and it took her a moment to focus through the blur.  When clarity finally came, she was unsure of what she was looking at.  A pair of round foothills lay before her that gave way to a towering cliff.

'No.  Oh god no.'

Ashley's mind couldn't accept what she was seeing.  It was no mountain before her, but the stumps of missing legs, all that was left to support the towering torso above them.  When the towering monolith began to topple towards her, she couldn't help but let the fear of being crushed beneath it take her.  But it wasn't toppling at all, just leaning down so the immense face above it could get a better look at her.  

'Nooooo... it can't be!'

The immense grinning face stopped not far from where she lay bound.  It filled her entire view, each pock mark the size of a pot hole, each mole and open sore like burial mounds.  The lone rotten tooth in the stinking, windy cave of his mouth easily dwarfed her.

And his laugh... his awful roaring laugh.  It rumbled the fibers of her confinement like a jet engine.  How could he even hear her pleas through such an overpowering force?   Out of the corner of her eyes, Ashley caught a glimpse of what she thought were more tall, rolling hills.  Some twisted and turned towards their summit, the others had smooth faces, supported by great arches from below.  Their color though... deep red... the same colors she wore to the premier.

Even as the realization hit her, Ashley couldn't bring herself to believe it.  Those hills were her clothes, the smooth ones that glistened in the morning sun were her shoes, the twisting slopes were nothing more than folds and wrinkles in her dress.  She quickly took in more of her surroundings.  A tall, flat wall stretched on for infinity above her, with only a single protrusion from its surface.  Dear god!  It was a door handle, a skyscraper unto itself.

All the while, the titan before her never ceased his thunderous laughing.  Ashley gave him her full attention once again, begging him to forgive her.  Desperately pleading for him to undo what he'd done to her, offering anything and everything under the sun in return.

He just kept on cackling his godawful cackle.

The giant then raised one of his gargantuan hands, each finger rivaling a redwood in its own right.  He curled them over repeatedly... waving goodbye to the tiny movie star who had attempted to make him feel so small just hours earlier.

"Wait!  Where are you going?!  Don't leave me like this!  Please!  I'll do anything!  Don't go!"  

The man stood back up as straight as his condition would allow, then using his hands in place of his missing feet, shuffled off down the Walk of Fame.  Ashley could see him shaking his head and laughing to himself until he finally disappeared from sight.

"Ple-e-e-ease... aaaaaahhhh... don't go-o-o-o!"  Ashley sobbed in tremolo.  She pounded on the surface below her free arm in frustrated defeat, causing her to bounce around once more.  As she opened her eyes from her unheard cries for help, she realized she still didn't know where she was.  

And her struggling had only caused something else to awaken.

She frantically looked at her immediate surroundings, her bonds were white... even organic looking.  The substance spread out in all directions from where she was being held. She could see between the threads that she was suspended high above the ground... high to her at least.  She began to hyperventilate as she simultaneously tried to free herself.

Then like an approaching locomotive, a new rumbling pounded at the strands around her.  It dawned on Ashley where she was, and if she weren't young and healthy, she may have had a heart attack at that very moment.  She didn't want to look... like a child with the bedding pulled over its head to protect itself from the lurking terror residing in the closet.  If she didn't look, it wouldn't be there.

But the growing vibrations told her otherwise... and as much she wanted to hide behind her own closed eyelids, survival instinct took over.  Ashley cocked her head back to face the horror that was closing in.  

Inverted in her view was a grotesque and terrible sight indeed.  It was clear now that what she was trapped in wasn't any man-made adhesive or threads of netting... but webbing.  Ashley's face turned white with all-consuming terror.  Her struggles to free herself had only attracted the hungry arachnid.  A creature carved out by eons of evolution and ancient instinct.  It only had one purpose... one desire... and that was to feed its insatiable hunger.  It had no intention of letting its prey escape.

The deadly spider settled itself over Ashley, preparing for a well earned meal.  Ashley couldn't move... and she couldn't scream... the urge getting caught in her throat.  She could only extend her lone free arm in a futile attempt to hold the much larger beast at bay.  

Before it sunk its venomous fangs into her tiny, delicate body, Ashley had to endure one last ironic revelation... that her captor was no 'he'.  Not a pervert.. not a sicko... but a ferocious 'she'.  The last thing she would ever see beneath its hideous black body was an unmistakable red hourglass painted across its bulbous abdomen... assuring her that there would be no escape.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Finding discarded clothing on the streets of Hollywood was nothing new or strange to 'ol Rory Fredrick.  He'd lived without a roof over his head for more of his life than not.  He'd walked the streets of LA for decades and seen things most wouldn't believe.  

This was the city after all.

But this particular pile WAS something special.  Gucci... Prada... not the sort of thing commonly tossed aside.  The purse especially.  The several hundred dollars in cash within would provide him with food and booze for weeks to come... a fine early morning score.  The pile itself looked as though it's wearer had simply melted or vanished from within... truly strange indeed.  But, even with the poor shape the dress appeared to be in, he figured he could score some more cash by selling the whole lot off to one of LA's many vintage clothing stores.

Rory bent down to pick up the abandoned lady's attire when his hand brushed against a small spiderweb that was clinging to the corner of the building's entryway.  He reacted as any person would and quickly drew back his hand.  Seeing this particular web's occupant made him glad his natural human instincts had kicked in.

"Ooooh... you're a nasty little customer, ain't ya!"

He observed the little creature as it feasted on its breakfast for a moment, marveling that such a tiny animal could pack such a devastating punch.

"Normally, miss widow, I'd say live and let live.  Yer just doin' what comes natural to ya, after all."  He scratched his chin and then picked up a nearby rock from beneath a bush.  "But I gots lots of friends that uses this here entryway to sleep in, and you nearly coulda got me just now.  I'm sorry, but you've got to go."

Rory dropped the rock onto the unsuspecting spider almost lazily and the deadly arachnid disappeared beneath it like it had never been there to begin with.  

But the strangeness didn't end there.

Just before he released the rounded, fist sized boulder from his grasp... Rory could have sworn he heard something.  It was faint... barely audible, only slightly amplified by the surrounding marble.  It was high pitched and weak sounding, but bone chilling.

He could have sworn he heard the words 'help me.'

Now, 'ol Rory Fredrick was no stranger to hearing voices.  Even in the lonelier periods of his existence, the companions in his mind were always up for some stimulating conversation.  Some friendly, some not so much.  But this voice... for one, he'd never heard it before... and for second, this was the first one to sound genuinely distressed.  

Rory collected the pile of clothing into his arms and walked on down the boulevard, reassuring the voice that he was there, and asking it what he could do to help... never receiving a satisfying answer.  The thoughts of the spider and its prey, the true origins of the voice he so desperately wanted to communicate with, left his realm of thought immediately... as if it hadn't even happened at all.

But there... in an unremarkable entryway... beneath an even less remarkable stone... lies the final resting place of Ashley DeLorenzo.  A strange case among many stranger...

... this is the city after all.


The End
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."

-Super Hans, Peep Show

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Re: Shrink SuspenStories

Post by Bloodthirstybutcher » Thu Oct 14, 2021 1:25 pm

The Curse of Mākurakura Motu!
by BTB



The rocky cone of an ancient volcano rose before me and focused my view.  Its steep red slopes, most certainly a result of an over abundance of iron in the ancient lava, stands contrasted by the thick green rainforest surrounding its base.  The beat up vessel that brought us to that moment was forced to anchor about a mile away from shore as most of the island was ringed by a shallow reef preventing closer approach.  The shores of the island itself were mostly cliff faces, save for a small natural harbor, itself obviously the result of a large volcanic blast thousands of years old.  As select members of the crew, my colleague, and I paddled our way towards shore in a half dozen life boats, I could see that even the small, sandy beaches of this South Pacific paradise were rusted the same beautiful red as the slopes of its lonely mountain.

But that was not the most striking characteristic of this particular mysterious isle.

There were totems, carved from wood, lining the almost perfectly round harbor. Some were familiar Polynesian deities such as the omnipresent Tangaroa, but the large ones... those were unique to this tiny speck of land.  Carved from stone, not unlike the Moai of Rapa Nui only much, much larger, were massive non-human effigies.  But these were not carved for any of the typical gods one would find in this part of the world.  No, these were remarkably ape-like.  

These mysterious statues were what had brought us to this remote corner of the world... or rather, what fantastic creatures they may depict.  And it's something I've kept secret for too many years.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My name is Dr. Ernest Kemper.  I hold a PHD in anthropology and a master's in archaeology, specializing in Polynesian cultures.  I first fell in love with the people of the Pacific while serving in the Navy during WWII.  I lied about my age so I could enlist after the attack on Pearl Harbor, which is where I would ultimately be stationed.  It was my first taste of island life and certainly wouldn't be my last.  After the war, I would dedicate the next fifteen years of my life to studying the various inhabited isles that scattered the great western ocean.  Tahiti, Papua New Guinea, Samoa, New Zealand, Easter Island... I've seen them all.  

I became a bit of an outcast among others in my particular field for my stance on artifacts and antiquities and their rightful place in history.  Where many I've worked with are highly respected in their own right, I couldn't help but see them as little more than old fashioned grave robbers, plundering cultures for their own wealth and notoriety.  In my opinion, there's no better place for an item of exceeding cultural significance to be experienced than in its land of origin.  In the event that I have returned to the states with artifacts, they were always gifted to me as a token of friendship from the peoples I'd grown to know and love.  Though the Polynesian islands are many, and the dialects spoken were even greater in number, I found that there was enough commonality to be found in them to communicate.  And if there wasn't, I took my time.

Ultimately this is what brought... her... into my life.

I was in my office at the university one afternoon when a knock on my open door drew my attention away from my work.  There in the doorway stood a striking but professional looking blonde woman.  She walked in confidently and seated herself opposite myself.  I recognized her of of course, Dr. Samantha Heckling.  She was English, and the university's chief primatologist.  We had met only in passing, but our chosen fields didn't exactly lend themselves to much interaction, that is... until that fateful day.

"Dr. Heckling, whatever brings you in today?"  I asked politely.  "Oh, where are my manners?  Can I pour you a drink?"  I opened the bottom drawer of my desk and removed a bottle of fine aged scotch and a pair of well-used glasses.

"That would be fine," she replied.  "Not too much though, don't want to give the dean ideas, if you know what I mean."

I poured her a couple of fingers and slid the glass across the desktop.  "Here ya are.  So... to what do I owe the pleasure, professor?"

"Well... first I'd like to say I'm familiar with your work.  Quite remarkable stuff really," she said, obviously trying to butter me up.

"You're too kind professor, but you don't look like you came down here to offer praise," I replied.

"You are correct, good sir... are you familiar with the legends about Mākurakura Motu?"

I couldn't help but chuckle, "Red Island?!  Oh yes... but certainly you didn't come here to talk about myths, did you? Perhaps you’d like to discuss Atlantis or flying saucers as well?"

"Oh, I can assure you, Dr. Kemper... it exists," she replied with a confident grin.

"Did Greyson put you up to this?" I replied, thinking I was being pranked by another colleague.

"The island has been found, Dr. Kemper.  I'm surprised that a man such as yourself hasn't read about it."

"I'm aware that two expeditions tried and failed to reach the fictional island, and only to have the men heading them up disappear in the process."

"From the men I've talked to, my good sir, both expeditions indeed found the very real island, but both of the men leading those expeditions disappeared into the jungle, never to be heard from again."

"Oh, hogwash!  Just silly superstitious sailors telling yarns to pass the time and scare each other.  I assure you, the place doesn't exist.  Even the name, Mākurakura Motu is in Maori... because it's a myth, told so many times through so many cultures that finally someone had to give it a name."  I leaned back in my chair and locked my fingers behind my head.  "Why is a primatologist like yourself interested in this anyway?"

"Certainly, Dr. Kemper, if you're as familiar with the 'myth' of Red Island, then you're also just as familiar with the legend of the beast that occupies it?"

Now she really had me laughing out loud.

"Oh my dear Dr. Heckling... you can't be serious?!"

"I am.  I think what those legends are describing is a lost species... and those two previous expeditions ran afoul of it.  I theorize that, somehow, a race of ape, perhaps even gigantopithicus, found its way onto that island and that's what killed those other two explorers."

I continued to chuckle at her preposterous theories.  How could a woman of science believe such mumbo-jumbo?  It's hard enough for a woman to gain respect in a male dominated profession, why would she put her career on the line with these wild theories?

"I think you've seen one too many B pictures, Dr. Heckling," I said through my roaring laughter.

"Perhaps this might change your mind, Dr. Kemper...," she said calmly and set her leather briefcase on the top of the desk.  She popped the clamps and lifted the lid.  What she removed stopped my laughter cold.

It was a tiki, about a foot high, clearly of Polynesian origin.  Something akin to a Marquesian type of sculpture, but a style quite unique unto itself.  It's origins are not what shocked me, but what was being depicted.  It was very simian in shape, almost like a gorilla.  And in It's clutches were what appeared to be humanoid shapes.

"Where did you get this?" I asked as she handed it to me for closer inspection.

"A crew member of the previous voyage smuggled it off the island.  You're right, they do tend to be a superstitious lot.  The man thought it cursed and donated it to the university museum about a month ago."

"Has it been dated?"

"Early estimates indicate anywhere from 800-1000 years old," she replied.

I fell back into my chair, unsure of what I was looking at.  Could it be true?  Could this place be real?  I looked back to her face, which was awash with smug victory.  I didn't know what else to ask except, "what now?"

"The university has approved an expedition if we can raise the money.  That shouldn't be a problem... I have a few things up my sleeve in that department.  But I'm no expert on Polynesian cultures and certainly don't know the languages like you do.  How would you like to take a little trip, Dr. Kemper?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Weeks we spent at sea, searching for the elusive island.  The notes and maps from the previous two expeditions were unceremoniously purged by the crews of their vessels, hoping to keep others from finding it... or in their minds, save them from it.  We had to start from scratch.  We stayed outside the usual shipping lanes and tried to piece together several possible locations from what little info we could gather.  The residents of several small islands proved to be very helpful with information, being as the ships most likely stopped at least a few of them, though all of them warned us not to go there.  The first red flags began to pop up in my brain.

Dr. heckling and I grew quite close over that time.  She was full of questions for me about my travels, and I had many for her.  She had spent time in the Congo studying the mountain gorillas there and also in Asia with the orangutans.  It was quite fascinating to learn about the great beasts, but I was still wildly skeptical about there being a giant primate living on a tiny Pacific island.  It simply didn't make any sense.

She was quite a lovely woman.  Tall, curvaceous, with long naturally blonde hair.  The kind of woman I would have seen painted on the side of a bomber during the war, not in a pair of spectacles and jotting down notes on Polynesian gods.  I became quite smitten with her, and she with I.  We tried to keep our partnership strictly professional, but the draw was there and couldn't be ignored.  Both of us were single, married to our work actually.  Our travels had kept either of us from settling down with anyone.  But with weeks at sea with little else to occupy us, eventually nature ran its course and we gave in to our lustful desires. 

Each night we'd sneak into each other's rooms and make passionate love to one another.  I can still remember the way she tasted... the way she smelled.  The little dimples at the base of her back.  The way she'd stare at me in silence until we both drifted off to sleep.

As fondly as I want to remember her, she wasn't the easiest person to work with.  She has delusions of grandeur, to put it mildly.  She seemed more concerned with the fame that would come from our discovery than with the science itself.  I didn't totally blame her.  Her father was a famous paleontologist and she found herself constantly in his shadow.  Plus, being a woman in any scientific field was always hard.  My views had always been more progressive, but that's not to say they reflected those of the rest of our colleagues.  She felt like she had something to prove, not just to herself, but for all women... unfortunately it would also be her downfall.

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It was a crewman in the crow's nest that first spotted the tiny outcropping of land.  A red and green dot in an infinite sea of blue.  My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest as I peered through the spyglass.  It was true!   We may not have been the first to make it there, but we were determined to be the first to unlock its secrets.  I couldn't wait to meet the people and try to converse with them.  Dr. heckling... Sam... she was beside herself with joy.  Pointing a finger at me and playfully laughing at me.  Telling me, "I told you so," and , "ready to eat your hat, mister?"

We were lowered first in the lifeboat to lead the landing team to shore.  The men were nervous, perhaps rightly so.  Luckily, or perhaps not so lucky... depending on how you look at it, our captain... Captain Walsh, was as eager for fame and glory as Sam and pushed his crew onward.  The walls of the volcanic harbor rose around us the further we rowed towards shore.  The eyes of the massive simian statues watched us the entire way.  A small village was visible near the deep red sandy shore and figures could be seen walking along it, pointing at the strange invaders in their odd shaped canoes.  Before we ever made shore, the entire village was gathered at the water line, ready to greet us.  I could only hope it was friendly greeting.

As we got close to the beach, a group of young men waded through the water to greet us, helping to pull the boats ashore.  We stepped out into the crowd and met our hosts.  The chief, an imposing man with large muscles and flanked on both sides by what must have been his wives.  He stood front and center, his arms crossed in front of him, a proud scowl painting his face as he looked down his nose at us.  I tried a few common phrases greetings, but the imposing man didn't budge or say a word.  

I was at a bit of a loss as what to do next.  Sam kept looking to me for answers that I didn't have.  She seemed annoyed and a little frightened that I was failing at the very task I was brought here to do.  That's when I spotted her satchel in the boat.  

"Sam!  Is it still in there?!  I whisper-shouted at her.

"What?!"  She aggressively shouted back.  The air was feeling heavy and I could see the sailors reaching for hidden weapons.

"Stand down everyone!"  I ordered.  "I've got an idea.  Hand me the satchel!"

One of the men complied and tossed me the leather case.  I removed the little wooden tiki and held it in the air.  There was an audible moan from the crowd as I presented outwards to the chief and apologized for the people who took it in Hawaiian, Maori and every tongue in between.

The chief finally extended his hands and accepted the return of his totem.  He stared me down with his dark, squinted eyes for an agonizingly long time.  Then, he side-eyed one of his warriors who side-eyed him back.  The two suddenly seemed to be caught in a staring contest to see which one would laugh first.  Both erupted in unison. The rest of the village joined in.  I was extremely confused and looked to Sam and the rest of the crew who only returned shrugged shoulders.  Then, in perfect Maori, the chief thanked me for returning the tiki, and that he was just having some fun with us.  'White men so serious," he exclaimed in his own tongue.  He patted me on the back, put his arm around me and welcomed us to the island.

However I thought our first contact would go, this certainly wasn't it.  

The people of the island proved to be very gracious and friendly hosts.  The chief welcomed the captain, Sam and I into his home and his wives served us platters of fruit.  The man proved to be incredibly intelligent, switching from various dialects and speaking all fluently... as if to test me.  There had clearly been some kind of trade with other island peoples for him to know so much.  For an island with a reputation such as this one had, to be treated as we were was quite surprising.  Perhaps they were just excited to see anyone, like any group of people suffering from prolonged isolation.

The rest of the crew were content to wait outside, gawking at the undraped females, of which there were aplenty.  Skirts of grass were about all either sex were adorned in, along with a few decorative pieces made from shells.  I worried about their intentions, but the captain assured me that they would remain in line or find themselves swimming back to civilization.

That night the natives threw a welcoming party.  Each member of the village was adorned in red face and body paint made from the deep red soil of the land.  The danced and all of us feasted on roasted feral hog.  The most delicious meal any of us had had since before we embarked on this journey.

The male dancers were adorned in leaves, weaved to make their arms look longer and their face paint looked suspiciously like that of a gorilla.  I leaned over to the chief and asked him what the dance was about.  He simply showed me the tiki I had returned to him and tapped on its head lovingly.  "'Ehu Kolila Nui," was all he said... giant red ape.

When I told Sam this, she got visibly excited.  She asked me to translate to him that she'd like to see the creature... or creatures.  The chief only laughed and replied that she didn't really want to see the apes.  She was confused by this answer, as was I.  I informed him that this was the reason for our visit, that we were hoping to study them... if they were in fact real.  He said that the last two groups of outsiders that came wished to do the same and paid the price.  He reiterated that we did not want to see the beasts.  Sam continued to push, but I squeezed her hand and asked her to let it rest for now.  We didn't want to insult him in any way if we hoped to gain his trust.  Especially when I had no idea what 'the price' was.

We spent the night back on the ship, but I didn't get much sleep.  As welcoming as these people were, I couldn't help but feel like there was something off.  They were definitely hiding something, but I was worried that the chief was right...

...perhaps we didn't want to see it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sam wasn't pleased with the way I shut her down the previous night at the luau.  She was very quiet and distant towards me the entire next morning and only told me she was angry with me as we rowed back to shore.  I tried to explain to her that forcing her will on these people just wasn't the way.  It's a very colonialist way of doing things, and I had no interest in such things.  I wanted to know their culture, their way of life.  Maybe then they could grow to trust me enough to reveal other secrets.  She seemed to be too enveloped in her anger to listen.  I was just another man trying to control her in her eyes, and she wasn't about to let that happen.  The mocking stares from the other men caused deep embarrassment within me.  I decided to drop the subject and let her cool off, we were approaching the shore anyway.

The chief met us once again and insisted on a personal tour of the outskirts of his island.  It took several hours to circle the entire thing, sticking primarily to the outer rim.  The cliffs dropped off sharply into the sea and we had to be very cautious of our footing so as not to fall onto the jagged, waterworn volcanic rocks below.  The entire time, Sam kept pestering me to ask about the apes, but I just ignored her.  I was far more interested in the chief's stories and histories of the island and it's people.  They had no written language, so everything was passed down orally.  How his ancestors first came to the isle in long ships, the early attempts at farming... and finally the people's first interactions with the 'original inhabitants,' as he referred to them.

Of particular note were the many fruits and vegetables that grew naturally on the island.  Plentiful and delicious.  All except for a strange, grape-like berry that grew closer to the center of the island.  The chief insisted that they were off limits, sacred even.  I didn't think much of it, just another superstition... these islands were full of them.  Perhaps they were poisonous and this was just how they kept their children from eating them.  I decided to change the subject back to what was really nagging at my mind, the 'original inhabitants.'

"Are they what those huge stone statues depict?" I asked and he nodded in response.

"Are they rally as large as those statues make them look?"

The chief just laughed and answered, "those who have seen them would say yes."  Yet another strange answer from our elusive host.

When we finally returned to the village on tired feet and aching muscles, yet another feast was laid out for us.  This time, the nightly production seemed to depict a female being whisked away by the would be ape-men.  I asked the patriarch if this was some kind of sacrifice, and with his usual upbeat demeanor, nodded his head.  I asked if it was some kind of fertility ritual and if the girls were virgins.  

He just laughed at me again.

In his usual cryptic way, he just said that , 'the beasts care not for such things.  Only those that see them will understand.'

"Why do the animals take people?" I queried.

"Even I do not know all things," he answered and gave me a friendly pat on the back.  "Relax, Kemper... you ask too many questions.  Enjoy yourself!"

I asked again if we could be permitted to view the creatures to which he just repeated himself...

"Trust me, my curious friend... you do not wish to see the beasts."

That night back at the ship, I relayed the conversation I'd had with the chief to Sam.  She seemed excited, that I may be chipping away at the man's stubbornness.  She even seemed to forget she was angry with me.  When I knocked on the door to her cabin she pulled me inside and ripped off my clothes.  

"It won't be long now, Ernie. You've got him wrapped around your finger!"  She whispered to me after an intense round of lovemaking.

"It isn't like that at all, Sam.  I'm not trying to manipulate him.  I've actually grown to respect him."  I took her by the hand and voiced my concerns, "perhaps we should listen to him.  Perhaps we don't want to push this any further.  We found the island, and there will be plenty to write about in that respect."

"Oh pish-posh," she replied.  "I'm no anthropologist, and I'm not here to make friends with these savages.  They've got an unknown species they're hiding up there and that's what I've come for.  Dead or alive, we're not leaving this island without a specimen."

"Jesus, woman... do you hear yourself?  How do you think these people will respond if you try to take one of those things off the island?"

"Nothing a few well placed bullets can't solve," she responded, crudely.  

This was not the woman I had fallen for... or was it?  I couldn't bring myself to speak to her any more and returned to my own cabin alone.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We would spend a total of three weeks on the island, with Sam growing increasingly impatient.  I on the other hand, was living a lifelong dream.  I no longer cared for recognition.  The chief and I had built quite a strong relationship of mutual understanding and friendship, growing ever closer as Sam and I drifted apart.  She spent many a day sulking on the beach with her toes in the sand.  Waiting, and from what I would soon learn... scheming.

I had returned from another trek into the jungle with the chief and a few select subordinates to find that Sam was gone.  From her usual spot on the beach, her tracks lead off into the thick foliage.  For the first time, I saw anger in the the chief's eyes.  He ordered his men to hunt her down and kill her if necessary.  Only through much convincing did I convince him to spare her life, but only if I ventured out and brought her back.  It was a level of mutual trust that I got the impression was not granted to just anyone.

I took off into the humid heat of the rainforest, following her footprints and broken branches she'd cleared to pass.  I climbed higher towards the volcano, already exhausted from the day's previous excursion.  Just when I thought I couldn't take another step, I came into a clearing and was greeted with what appeared to be some kind of ancient elevated altar.  The corners of the stone edifice were decorated with more of the exquisite ape effigies.  And there, I found Sam.  She was taking photos and munching on a handful of native berries.  The very ones the chief had just told me not to eat because they were 'sacred'.

"Sam... what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

She jumped a little as I must have startled her.  She grasped her chest and and let out a relieved breath.  "Oh thank god, it's just you Ernie.  I thought you might have been one of them."

"Goddamnit, Sam!  You're lucky it's me... they nearly sent a war party after you!"

"They know I'm gone?" 

"Of course they know.  You've done nothing but pout about these damn apes for weeks now.  Do you think they're stupid?"

"One of us had to show a pair and do some serious exploring.  You're too content to go on your little nature walks and play house with your new mate."

"What in god's name are you talking about?!  That is what we came here for!"

"Wrong," she corrected me, "this is what YOU came here for.  You know why I'm here."

Just then, a rustling in the bushes startled the both of us.  Could it be them... could this be one of the giant beasts growing near?  In fact not, it was the chief, accompanied by what looked like every male on the island.  Even the women began to appear from the thick foliage like ghosts.  They filled the perimeter of the clearing, lighting torches as it began to grow dark.

"Congratulations, Dr. Heckling," I said frightened and sarcastically, "you may have just killed us both.

The chief approached me and put a single hand on my shoulder.  He saw the uneaten berries in Sam's hand and shook his head in disappointment.  He whispered something in my ear while Sam anxiously stood there in horror.

"Well, what did he say?"  She barked.

"He said that if you truly desired to see the island's beasts, you just earned it."

A handful of maidens filled the concave bowls at the tops of the corner tikis with wood and lit them ablaze, the entire ancient platform became bathed in firelight.  The darkness of the surrounding jungle felt more suffocating than ever before.  At that moment, I wasn't sure if we would live to see the dawn.

Sam clutched to me in terror and I tried my hardest to be strong for the both of us.  We were grossly outnumbered and any help the ship's crew could provide would take hours to reach us.  We had trespassed and we would learn the price of our indiscretion soon enough.  

"I'm sorry, Ernie... I'm sorry I got us into this," Sam whimpered.  Her tears glistened in the orange light of the torches, her eyes pleaded for my forgiveness. 

All I could think to do was hold her face against my chest so she wouldn't have to see what may be coming, only to have her ripped away by a pair of the chief's subordinates.  I reached out to pull her back, only to be held under the arms by another pair of strong warriors.  The first two forced Sam to her knees.  She screamed out to me to save her, but there was nothing I could do.  Suddenly, a young girl approached from the dark, carrying a small wooden bowl.  She dipped her fingers inside and began to coat Sam's face with the same red paint the women of the tribe wore.  When finished, she stepped away... as did the men holding her down.  She ran back into my arms, crying uncontrollably.

Then the chief stepped forward.  He gently placed a hand on her shoulder and hung his head sorrowfully.

"Dr. Heckling, you wished to see kolila, and now you have no choice.  Please take your place on altar.  They will show themselves to you now."

I couldn't believe it!  The man spoke nearly perfect English, and he'd been hiding it all this time from me.

Like a switch being flicked in her brain, Sam lifted her face from my chest.  Her fearful instincts apparently no match for her curiosity.  She pushed me away and took the handful of steps to the top of the altar.  As soon as she reached its center, the villagers began to pound on their crude drums, filling the night with their ominous rhythms.  

Before long there was motion in the bushes.  It was hard to detect in the dark, but the darkened foliage was definitely moving.  

"Oh my god!" Sam shouted and cupped her hands over her mouth.  "They're beautiful!"  

From my position I couldn't see what she had.  I tried to join her, but I was held back once again.  I looked to the chief who just sadly shook his head.  I scanned the faces of the other members of his people... all of them looked deeply saddened.  Some were even crying.  It was so strange, none of it made any sense.  What was happening?!

"Ernie!  You have to come see them!  They're amazing!"  Her head spun back to look at me with that bright, beautiful smile I'd fallen so hard for and snarked, "though, I think our friends here have greatly embellished their size."

And then it happened.  

As if under some kind of spell, Sam's body began to recede into her clothing.  She didn't notice at first, too entranced with the obscured creatures before her exclusive view.  It was only when her pants slipped from her hips that she realized something else was happening.  

"Ernest?"  She timidly asked.  Her shrinking face was pale with fear, even within the glow of the flaming pyres.  She turned on her heels to run back to me, but tripped over the clothes pooled at her feet.  Smaller and smaller she shrank as she tied to crawl to the edge of the platform.  By the time she reached the edge, she was small enough to slip through the collar of her own shirt.  She clung to the edge, still shrinking... screaming for my help.  Her hands outstretched for a salvation that wouldn't come.

I was too flabbergasted to move.  What was this?  What had they don't to her?  

The berries.  Dear god, the berries.

The chief warned us not to eat them, that they were sacred.  Now I see why.

When Sam had finally stopped shrinking she couldn't have been larger than a child's doll.  Even as small as she was, I could still see the terror in her eyes.  The sound of her tiny voice calling to me for help still haunts me to this very day.  

It was quiet, I can't say for how long.  The drums had stopped.  No one spoke except for the faint, squeaking screams of Dr. Heckling.  Finally one of the beasts appeared, proud and strong.  It climbed onto the platform and knuckle walked its way towards us.  I wanted to run, but even if I wasn't being restrained, my legs were like jelly.  

It was most certainly an ape.  Not so dissimilar to a gorilla, and roughly the same size.  What set it apart was its majestic red fur that covered its entire body, clearly a product of evolutionary camouflage for the great animal.  With the red rocks that covered this island, they could have been around us at any time and we never would have seen them.  Below it's eyes were a pair of black streaks, like smeared mascara dripping down to its jaw.

Sam was right, they truly were beautiful.

That's when I noticed Sam was no longer screaming.  She had turned to face the, to her at least, gigantic monster.  She couldn't speak.  She couldn't move.  Even from where I stood, I could tell she was so stricken with horror that it completely consumed her.  The ape loomed over her, intimidating her with its sheer size.

I finally snapped out of my own trance and called to her, "Samantha!  Get out of there!"

She snapped out of her holding gaze and tried to hurl herself over the edge of the step.  The ape reached out with lightning speed and caught her mid-air in its mighty grasp.

Time stopped.  I locked eyes with Sam and she with me.  She was only able to release a single scream before the ape turned tail and disappeared into the darkness... her voice faded into the night along with the beast's presence.

The rustling of the brush ceased.  Women scaled the steps of the platform to dowse the pyres.  The only sound that filled the clearing were those of sobbing from villagers.  I myself sank to my knees and purged my gut with shock.  I felt a hand on my shoulder and it moved in such a way as to offer comfort in this dark hour.  I cocked my head upwards to find the chief standing over me.  Tears poured down his face and his lower lip quivered with as much sadness as I was feeling.

"Come my friend," he beckoned in English with the words getting choked up in his throat, "we have serious things to discuss."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night the chief and I sat on the beach and watched the moon reflect on the waves of the harbor.  The man tried his best to comfort me, but knew that I needed answers to what I'd just seen.  For the first time, he dropped his usual cryptic nature and laid it all out for me straight.

"I am truly sorry for your woman friend, Ernest Kemper.  I tried to warn her, but her stubbornness would not allow her to listen."

"I don't understand any if this," I replied.  "First of all, how is it that you speak English all of a sudden?!  Why did you hide that from me?"

"There's a saying among your people about holding cards close to chest, I believe.  As much as we welcome visits from outsiders, you are still strangers... and we have learned to be cautious with strangers."

"Who taught you?"

"About fifteen years ago, Japanese sub come to our shores.  We greet them as openly as you, but they only interested in claiming these shores for their chief.  They slaughtered several of my warriors... my friends... and without provocation.  In retaliation we fed them sacred berries and let jungle finish them off.  Not far from where your ship sits you will find their vessel at bottom of sea."

He continued, "we received word from other islands in great sea that same was happening, so many of us ventured to what you call Hawaii to join great armada there to fight back against our mutual foe.  This is how I learned your tongue, Ernest Kemper."

"You fought in the war?!  This is all insane!"  I replied, too overwhelmed with everything I had experienced.

"I do not understand what you mean, my friend."

"I fought in the Pacific Theater, too.  I was in the Navy," I explained.

"Then we truly are brothers in purpose, Ernest Kemper," he said with a strong pat on my back.

"I don't understand why you had to be so coy about everything.  Why couldn't you just tell us about all of this?"  

"Would you have believed me?  Or would it have been nothing more than superstitions of an island savage?"  He replied.  "Do not think I don't know how outside world sees us.  Uncivilized naked idiots living in a tropical paradise.  I assure you, my friend, we are no idiots."

"I never of thought of any of you as savages or idiots, Chief."

"Yes, from first time we meet, I could tell you were different from other outsiders who have come here.  The others only wished to take.  Take our statues... take our food... even take our women.  You were first to return something.  To offer us a gift, even if it already belonged to us."  He smiled and pointed out one of the tikis on the beach, silhouetted in the moonlight.  "In reality... it's only wood.  One of my ancestors carved it to pass the time.  It holds no value other than what we give it.  But you saw value in one of our treasures enough to return it to us... it says much about you, Ernest Kemper."

"To be honest," I reluctantly admitted, "I thought you were going to kill us... it was the only thing I could think of that might save our skins."

For some reason, the chief found this hilarious.

After he composed himself, we sat quietly for a while listening to the water crash against the distant rocks.  On any other night I would have found it calming.  A mysterious island paradise filled with fascinating people and even more fascinating magic.  But not that night.

"So where does this leave us, Chief?  The amount of money that's been poured into this expedition... I can't just tell the university I came up empty handed.  I'm not a liar, and even if I was, it won't stop others from coming here."

He scratched his chin for a moment and nodded, "the legends about this island have kept other islanders from trying to conquer us for centuries.  Even if we bend truth a little.  But I understand what you say.  You're people only seem to seek out danger, even when it stare you in the face."

"I suppose there's some truth in that," I admitted.  "People are always drawn to a mystery.  Thats what brought me here to begin with."

"In our language," he began, "the word for 'revere' is the same as for 'protect.'  We make no distinction between them.  Our ancestors were great explorers and saw many lands before coming here.  They knew, even back then, how special creatures are up on mountain.  They never see anything like them in all heir travels, and they were determined to protect kolila from any outside harm.  As for berries... that a different matter."

He had my full attention, as usual.

"Many of my forefathers found out hard way, as you say, what happens when berry is eaten.  Even other animals of island know not to eat them.  It more important than anything they are not known to your people."

"Whatever do you mean?" I asked, perplexed.

"Remember, I served with your people to fend off Japanese.  I know about great fire-bombs that were dropped on their great villages.  Thousands of people who were not warriors, burned away in an instant like tapa.  It is not for me to judge right or wrong in your culture, just as I hope for same respect from you in mine.  But... thought of what could be done with sacred fruit... sometimes it steals sleep from me."

I looked at the ground and nodded.  "I understand."

"I do not ask that you hide your knowledge of this place.  It would appear world has become much smaller in recent years," he pondered.

"Indeed it has, my friend."

"I only ask that, perhaps... you hide things to your chiefs."

"I think I can do that."  For the first time, I felt compelled to pat him affectionately on the back.

"What will you tell your people of Dr. Heckling?" He inquired.  

"I'm not sure.  She got lost in the jungle... she drowned while swimming.  I'm certainly not going to tell them she was miniaturized and abducted by an undiscovered species of ape.  They'll probably put me away."

"What does this mean? 'Put me away'?" 

"Just that no one would believe it and I probably wouldn't get to do the job that I love anymore... in the best case scenario."

"Yours is a strange world, Ernest Kemper."

"No doubt, Chief... no doubt."

I couldn't get the image of Sam's horrified face out of my mind.  Her screams kept ringing in my ears.  "Chief?  What happens to those that have been taken by the apes?"

He slumped and hung his head, "there are things even I do not know."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Come three days later and once again our vessel was cutting across the sea.  This time... headed for home.  The fine people of Mākurakura Motu bid us loving farewell.  My friend, the Chief even gifted me the small tiki I had returned to his island as a gesture of good faith and friendship.  It pains me greatly to say that I would never see him again.

Much of the three days before leaving were spent by the captain and crew searching for Sam.  I assured them they wouldn't find her in the dense forest or the treacherous waters that surrounded the tiny isle, but the Captain wouldn't listen.  More than anything I think he just wanted to avoid an investigation into her disappearance.  The crew eventually gave up as supplies began grow thin.  To think that they could have quite literally stepped over the miniature version of her at any moment and not known she was there.  The thought chilled me to my bones.

Back in the States, I presented my findings in a thorough paper along with photographs and interviews with the people of the island.  I made no mention of the apes or the sacred fruit.  I only stated that like many places in the world, Mākurakura Motu had its myths and legends, and they were nothing more than just that.  I'd hoped that would be enough of answer to the mystery... may it keep others from trying to solve it.  I wished only to save their very lives.

And as for Dr. Heckling... Sam... I've had to find ways to cope with what happened to her.  Usually 90 proof or more.  Did I love her?  I don't know.  The guilt I felt, the shame.  I just stood there gawking as she was stolen away, screaming for my help.  The years of not knowing if she was dead or alive... of wondering what those things could have possibly wanted with her.  It kept me awake at night for years... and when I did sleep, her tiny, high pitched screams haunted my nightmares.  No matter how foolish and stubborn Sam may have been, she didn't deserve the hand that fate had dealt her.

I'll never forgive myself, nor should I.

As for the island itself, its remoteness has kept it fairly off of most people's radar, as it has for hundreds of years.  It no longer lives in myth, and only the heartiest of explorers have set foot on its shores.  No more disappearances have been reported by those who have returned so I can only assume that the chief was forced to alter his philosophy when it came to handling outsiders.  

 But Red Island still retains its mysteries.

I can only advise you not to seek them out.



The End
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."

-Super Hans, Peep Show

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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Shrink SuspenStories

Post by Bloodthirstybutcher » Thu Oct 21, 2021 12:36 pm

Phorever Phicen

by BTB



I'm not sure when I first became conscious of the dark.     

It felt new, and at the same time... like it had always been there.  I don't know where it came from or how I found myself enveloped by it.  Even in the darkest of nights, I'd never known what true nothingness felt like... and it was maddening.

Hours passed into what I could only assume where days... and those passed in to weeks... I think.  There was only the dark.  Occasionally I'd hear voices, muffled and distant.  I'd try to cry out to them... only to find I couldn't scream.  I couldn't speak.  I couldn't move.  I didn't realize it at first, but my eyelids didn't even blink.

Now and then, even though the darkness remained fixed and constant, it felt like I was being tossed about, spun and often weightless.  It made me think of riding Space Mountain, except this wasn't thrilling.

This was terrifying.

My mind craved sustenance, but my stomach never seemed to need it.  I had to shake my psychological need to breath, because I clearly wasn't taking any breaths.  Christ... what I wouldn't give for a cigarette.

Am I dead?  Is this my coffin?  Did my 'soul,' ...whatever that means, fail to move on... or is this just what happens to everyone?  Left in the dark while the worms and time eat us away... until there's nothing left to hold our consciousness.  What happens then?

If there's a hell, how could it be any worse than this?  I couldn't even sleep through it.  Just slowly going mad inside my own lifeless corpse.  Left to wallow in my own company and tortured by fading memories, all I had to save me from the endless... consuming... void.  But even those faded away as my mind continued to unravel.  Was my brain rotting away, or was the unending, uncompromising nothingness taking my sanity?

Then... after what felt like eons, a popping noise released a single beam of light into my cold, empty world.  It was a large blade of some make, cutting through the black and releasing a quickly growing band of light.  My eyes didn't need to adjust after having spent so much time in darkness, a feeling you would never know felt strange until you had to experience it.  I couldn't move my head, but I could see that my surroundings were made of cardboard and packing peanuts the size of barrels.  Was this how I was to be disposed of?  In a cardboard box?  If so, why was I being removed now?  

If my heart was beating,  it may have stopped.  Enormous meaty fingers reached into the box above me ripped the rest of the darkness away with their unbelievable power.  I wanted to run, to hide, to obey my fight or flight instincts.... but I couldn't move.  I couldn't blink.

High above the massive fingers was the glowing face of what must have been God.  Oddly enough, God appeared to work a blue collar job judging by the polo and name tag.  He was good looking in the face, blue eyes, a greying beard, crows feet around the eyes that I always found so handsome and distinguished on a man.  Even from my angle I could tell he was working hard on a beer gut.  Those same large fingers reached in and lifted me out of my plastic prison with a loud pop.

I found myself rushing upwards, closer to the man's face.  I realized then that, even though I couldn't move, I could feel.  I could feel the air moving past me at incredible speed.  I could feel the pressure of his immense fingertips at my sides.  I can't lie, as afraid as I was at that moment, experiencing anything other than the nothingness felt... exhilarating.  

Before I knew it his face was uncomfortably close.  I wanted to wiggle away, to scream at him to release me at once.  But I couldn't.  I couldn't even shut my eyes in terror.  The man inspected me from head to toe, turning me over... and over again.  His trunk-sized fingers probed my legs... then my ass.. then my breasts.  I felt so violated... I wanted to scream so badly.  He caressed my cheeks and stroked my hair, something that should have made my blood run cold... but did I still have any blood left?

Finally, the giant man spoke, "Hello there, little Mary."

Who was this monster?!  What had he done to me?!  Jesus, he already had a name for me?!  Then I realized I couldn't actually remember what my name was...

The entire world around us was oversized and frightening.  It was too much to process with my fixed stare.  I would have fainted... if my useless body would let me.  If only I could shut my eyes.  But the oppressive awareness continued as my inspection went on.  I felt him manipulate my arms and legs, bending them for the first time in god knows how long.  He moved my head around on my neck and wigged my torso back and forth at the hips.  As much as I hated and feared what was happening, feeling the atrophy being broken out of my limbs felt so good, even if I couldn't do it myself.

"Well, what do you say we go try you out," the giant said.

What the hell does that mean?!

I felt his warm fingers wrap around my entire body.  He began to walk down an enormous corridor, his great footfalls echoing like thunder against the walls.  That's when we entered another enormous, cluttered space... with a bed in the middle of it.

Oh god no... please no...

I kept trying to claw out of my own reality, but there was no escape.  He tossed me down on the bed from such a terrifying height.  You don't know what it is to need to scream and not be able to.  To feel all the pain of an impact but not be able to hold yourself in agony. To have your eyes held open in petrification and not be able to cry.

The giant stood over me like a skyscraper, the look of lust blazing in his eyes.  He removed his shirt and tossed it aside, revealing his mountainous gut.  His unbuckled pants slid from his wide hips and hit the floor.

Please no... please don't do this...


His boxers came next, revealing an enormous appendage emerging from a thick, black tuft that was already eager to play.  In that moment, he scooped me back up and jumped into bed.  The world shook around me as he settled into a comfortable, well-worn spot.  He continued to clench me in his powerful fist, just staring at me.  When I could finally make out the way his gut was jiggling beneath me in of my peripheral vision, as well as his intensifying breathing... I knew he was pleasuring himself.  I felt so disgusted, so helpless... and all the while, our eyes were locked as he worked himself over.

His enormous slobbering maw nearly enveloped my entire head as he kissed, or rather sucked on my face.  His breath felt hot and moist.  His unkempt beard scratched at my body.  If my stomach worked, I'm sure I would have wretched.  His breathing only got heavier and the vibrations more intense.  Suddenly, he pulled me away from his face and began to bend my arms around in bizarre ways.  My legs curved out at the knees and met at my toes.  My arms did the same, like he was preparing me to climb a tree... 

Oh no.  No no no no no...

Once again I was whisked through the air at lightning speed as his fleshy trunk found its way into my arms.  Oh god... this can't really be happening... please make this stop.

His massive hand wrapped enveloped me as well as the meat I was pressed against, which was already dripping with pre.  Vigorously he worked me against him while I begged whatever higher being that may be listening to my thoughts to please make it end soon.  Just as the rumble growing in the shaft began to grow towards climax, he lifted me slightly higher so my breasts teased against his mushroom tip when the inevitable eruption occurred.  His hot, sticky load hit me hard in the face.  I couldn't close my eyes, so I couldn't wipe the lingering burn from them.  I wanted to cry so desperately.  He just held me there against his retreating glans, covered in his disgusting seed while he caught his breath.

Then something completely unexpected happened...

When he finally let his brain come down from his massive orgasm, he opened his eyes and looked directly at me... and cried.  He cried.  Good, I thought, you fucking rapist!  You should be ashamed of yourself!  I hope you burn in hell!

Oh wait... weren't we already there?

He pulled a few tissues out of the Kleenex box next to the bed and wiped himself off.  Then he dabbed the... stuff... from my face and hair as best as he could.  He stared into my eyes for quite a while afterward as he tried to get a hold of himself.  It was as though he were looking for my forgiveness... he sure wasn't going to get it.

"I'm so sorry Mary... I shouldn't have done that.  I was just... I was just so excited to see you when I opened that box'" he sobbed.  "I won't let it happen again."

... the fuck?!

"Lets go get you cleaned off, ok?"
 
It's not like I had any say in it, did I?

He took me into the bathroom and clicked on the light.  There, for the first time, I saw myself in the mirror.  Under a thin coat of jism, of course, but there I was... sorta.  It was definitely me looking back in the mirror... just... off somehow.  That's when I noticed the joints.  I hadn't noticed them when I was being rocked against his cock like a human pocket pussy, but there they were... plain as day.  My wrists, my ankles... pivot joints... like on a doll-

No.  Please no.  It's not possible.  How can this...?  It's not possible .


My skin looked translucent, almost plastic... like, silicone... because it was silicone.  My body still seems to be anatomically correct, but I was in better shape than I ever was in life.  Even my face... it WAS my face, but I kept getting that creepy uncanny valley feeling...  FROM MY OWN FACE!  Once again... the need to cry... the need to hyperventilate... the need to shut my eyes from what I was seeing... GODDAMNIT, I NEEDED IT... but couldn't.  Dear god, I couldn't.

The giant pervert soaped me up and cleaned me off with his horrible probing fingers, making sure no drop of his nasty semen was left on my body.  I thought his cum burned when it hit my eyes, but the soap was so much worse.  Just to close my eyes, just to relieve myself from the pain... it would have been more than I could ever ask for, but I just had to endure it.

Once satisfied, he toweled me off and left me on the counter for a while longer to fully dry.  At least I had the towel underneath me and not just the cold, hard surface of the counter itself.  Laying there, my gaze was fixed upon the ceiling, unable to see what my kidnapper was doing.  The noises that came from him afterwards told me enough... that he was relieving himself in the toilet.

For the first time during this whirlwind I had a chance to try and gather my thoughts.  Was this really happening?  Was this some level of hell?  Was this just a product of the deterioration of my mind even further?  That had to be it... right?

With a cough and a flush, the giant returned to the sink where he cleaned his hands (at least) and then snatched me up again.  We returned to the kitchen where he began rummaging through the box again.  This time I could see what his place looked like.  Mountains of trash piled up, towers of pizza boxes, piles of dirty clothes everywhere... what a fucking slob.  I couldn't see what he was retrieving, but it wasn't long before we were on our way back to the bedroom.

Please god... don't let him use me like that again.

Instead of another horrendous view from his bed, this time he lifted me upwards and snapped something around my waist.  I obviously couldn't bend my head down to see what it was, but the fact that I was still upright when he pulled his hands away meant it had to be some kind of stand.  A stand... a display piece... that's what I was now.  Nothing more than a toy to be used and admired by a gigantic creep who liked to play with dolls.

This truly was hell.

So there I sat... or stood... or was held, I guess... my feet didn't actually touch the floor.  Once again the hours turned into days... the days into weeks.  My singular view of my world wasn't the void, but to be honest... it wasn't much better.  I couldn't sleep to pass the time, all I could do is stare ever forward.  Just a single smoke... I'd sell my soul for a single puff.

Or was that how I got here to begin with?

For the most part, the giant was good on his word and didn't violate me again.  He'd touch me... caress my skin... pet my hair... hold me like a little pet.  He'd talk to me every day like he knew me... like I was his fucking friend.  He was so pathetic and lonely, I almost felt sorry for the poor bastard... almost.  If I didn't have to watch him pleasure himself nightly to his weird-ass porn... and I mean weird, I may have been able to show him some compassion.  At first I thought he had a kink for little girls, but soon realized that the small women I was seeing on his computer screen were photo manipulated or 3D renderings of adult women... just tiny.  I guess that explains why he did what he did to me... not that it made me feel any better about it.

And every night, after he'd abused himself, he'd start crying again.  "Oh Mary!" He'd wail out into the room or muffle it with his pillow.  I don't know why he felt the need to call to me, his "Mary," during his little fits.  Unless... unless I'm not Mary.  Maybe she was someone important to him.  Maybe he lost someone...

No!  Stop it!  This man is a monster... knock this Stockholm shit off right now!

With time... I couldn't help but let my troubled mind feel for the guy.  My contempt evolved into pity and then, eventually... sympathy.  He did seem to care about me, or whatever I represented to him.  Even his touch that made me want to recoil so much... I began to... want it.  Every day when he'd leave for work he would kiss the tops of his fingers and tap me lightly in the head and again when he got home.  All I could experience was the same wide eyed view every second of every day... but I could feel... and any change to the status quo felt... I can't fully explain to you how I needed it... how I craved it.  I guess that's what happens when you become a prisoner in your own body, or... some approximation of it.  Christ! 

And that's how things went on... for months.  And through all that time, I still didn't know his name.  This was my existence, and I had to make some kind of peace with it.  What choice did I have?  I dealt with it as best as I could.  And then, one evening after he got home from work, everything changed.

The giant entered the bedroom as usual, except this time he had a package with him.  This was new, even when he removed me from my own cardboard sarcophagus, he did so in the kitchen.  His back was to me as he opened it, but being that even the smallest of changes were like Christmas to me, the suspense was tearing me apart.  Even after he opened it, the edge of the shelf in front of me obscured my view.  All I could see was his hand placing objects next to me one at a time.  He'd place one, then his hand would return to the box and remove another of the mystery objects.  Three trips in all.  

Goddamnit!  Whatever they are, they're right next to me and I can't simply turn my head to look. 
I could only imagine myself ripping my hair out in frustration.  He stood there for a moment, admiring whatever his new acquisitions were, then he turned his gaze to me.  He smiled politely and then his hands came for me and removed the pedestal.  

"Don't worry Mary, I fully plan on keeping my promise to you," he said looking down at me in his grasp.  It had been a while since he held me and I was mostly just enjoying the new sensations.  To be honest, I'd almost forgotten his promise not to violate me again.

At that point, I think I would have welcomed it.  To feel my arms wrapped around his manhood.  Perhaps he might do it just so... that my own sex might graze his in the process... that I might feel something like that again... I wished I could feel what it was like to have my heart race again.

"...but... a man has needs..."

Oh god yes!  It's going to happen!  Please Tom... use me!


Tom?!  How did I suddenly know his name?!

The extreme pressure of his fingertips pulling at my head snapped me out of my thoughts.  I could feel my neck separating from my shoulders... it was pain like I'd never felt in my entire life... oh god, was he trying to kill me?!

Tom!  Please!  What-

Pop!

My head remained pinched between the firm vice of his fingertips while my body disappeared into his other hand.  That's when he turned me enough to see what he'd just added to his collection.  There were three heads, well sculpted... in fact extremely well sculpted.  Each was clearly modeled after a different celebrity.  The blonde was an almost photo-realistic representation of Scarlett Johansson.  The redhead in the middle couldn't be anyone but Emma Stone.  There was also a brunette, she looked familiar, but I couldn't remember the actress's name, not that I even cared in the moment.

The other two I understood, Tom always fancied them when...

...when we were together.

Oh my god... Tom!


It was like a fog or amnesia or whatever it was had been lifted from my brain.  Maybe from the shock of having my head ripped from my body?  My body... I couldn't feel it anymore... I couldn't feel Tom's touch... and it made me feel even more frightened... even lonelier in my living hell.  He removed the Emma-head from the pedestal and placed mine in its place.  I could actually feel the balled tip touch the inside of my skull as I came to rest upon it.  Again, until you've had to experience it, it's hard to explain how unnerving something like that feels.  

The bedroom that I had stared at everyday for months became familiar again... this was our house!  It was hidden under layers and layers of filth, but this was our home!  There!  By the bed... on the night stand was a photo of the two of us.  It'd been there all this time, just blurred in my periphery.  The answers have all been right there in my face and I didn't piece them together.  I remembered the day the photo was taken, walking the beach in Southern California.  A stranger was kind enough to take it for us.  We looked so happy... 

...we were.

How long had I been gone?  The house didn't get this way over night.  Even Tom... there's so much more grey in his hair than I remember.  He's gained so much weight.  And his mental state... oh, Tom.  He's come just as undone as I have.

I had to sit and watch as he popped this other head onto my body... MY BODY!  PLEASE, TOM... WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!

"Don't worry Mary, my love, I'm not going to make you watch... that would just be cruel."

Tom!  Wait!

His fingers spun my head around, catching another quick glimpse of one of my shelf-mates before stopping with nothing but a blank wall to fill my view.

"Don't be angry with me... but I... it's too hard... it hurts to much to do it with you... to you... you just look too much like her.  You... she's too precious to me.  Don't worry, you'll get your body back as soon as I'm done."

Tom!  It's me!  I'm here!  Tom!


It was his kink, of course... the tiny woman thing.  I remember how frightened he was to tell me about it... that he loved and trusted me enough to share that part of himself with me... something he'd hidden for so long.  I didn't fully understand it, but I accepted it... it seemed harmless enough.  I was never one to turn my nose up at someone for enjoying porn, god knows I indulged myself.  Sometimes I'd even throw on some of his much larger clothes so it looked like I was drowning in them, then walk into the living room in a playfully panicked state.  It always put a smile on his face... and instantly put him in the mood.

With nothing but a blank wall to stare at and the sounds of the man I loved fucking another woman... er... another doll I guess, with my body... I retreated back into my mind once again.  The flat plain of semi-gloss in front of me doubled as a movie screen and my mind as the projector for the greatest hits reel of my life.  Growing up... going to college... meeting Tom... getting married... living our lives together... then...

...the cancer.

It was too late, it had spread through my lungs before I even knew there was a problem.  My fucking habit, the one I couldn't just quit... even as many times as Tom tried to get me to.  I thought it couldn't happen to me, but it did.  Cancer is something that happens to old people and kids... it's something that happens to someone else.  Not to me.  It didn't take long before I was confined to a hospital bed on oxygen, hairless and frail.

Tom stayed by my side to my last breath.  He took it much harder than even I was.  Watching me die tore him apart, and when it came time to say our goodbyes, I could tell it would break him.

All I could do is assure him that this was only temporary... that we'd find each other again... and that I'd be watching over him until that day.  Oh dear god!  Is that what happened?!  Did it take my soul... my consciousness... my essence this long to find a way back to him?  This isn't want I meant!  Did I do this to myself?!  Please!  This isn't what I meant!

Tom finished.  And just like every other time, he sobbed in his end,ESP purgatory of mourning.  Just a few seconds of relief from his own perpetual misery was all he was looking for, but the shame and grief always returned, and it took him without mercy.

"Oh Mary!  I'm sooooo sorry... I miss you so much... oh god!  Mary!  Please... god... aahhhhh... I love you Mary!"

Tom's heart wrenching cries hit me harder than they ever had.  I wanted to hold him, to tell him how much I love him... to carry this wretched burden he's been cursed with.

But I can't.  All I can do I stare unblinking into this new void, not dark and infinite like before, but immediate and eggshell white... the paint I had chosen for this room.  So bland and lifeless.  

Just like I am. 

What I wouldn't give to shed a single tear... 

"Oooooooh.... Mary..."

I'm here, Tom...

I'm here.



The End.

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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Shrink SuspenStories

Post by Bloodthirstybutcher » Thu Oct 28, 2021 1:20 pm

"Shooter!" 

by BTB


The shout came from the far end of the hallway, twisting heads in the direction of its owner.  The entire school had heard the loud pops of the gun going off prior, but were unsure of what was happening.  A few seconds later Tyrell Walker, star running back for the Peony High football team, rounded the corner shouting, "shooter!  Run!  Run!"  People began slowly walking backwards, still trying to process what was happening.  

A second figure rounded the corner, a young male.  He was clad in black clothing.  Black boots... black jeans... black t-shirt, all of it accented with... you guessed it, a long black trench coat.  He had a gym bag slung over one shoulder and a large, strange looking weapon supported by the other.  Beneath his dark wrap-around shades were zit covered cheeks spread apart by a cocky grin.

"Lets see you outrun this, motherfucker...," he quipped before firing his heavy weapon at Tyrell's back.  The shot echoed its way down the hall.  It was loud and instant like a regular gunshot, but it sounded different somehow... almost electrical.  And the end result was far more terrifying.  As it went off, the still running Tyrell Walker simply vanished.  His clothes seemed to hang in mid air for a split second and then fell to the floor, sliding and tumbling a few feet when they hit the floor... still being carried by his forward momentum.  His letterman jacket came to rest at the feet of a slack-jawed girl standing near her locker.

Seconds stretched out in outright shock until the hall filled with horrified screams.  Kids turned and ran in the opposite direction from the black-clad shooter in a frenzy.  Books and bags, paper and pens flew into the air.  The crowd moved like a wave, gaining more and more force and speed as it progressed.  Kids fell to the ground and were trampled underneath the feet of their peers.  

But behind them, the smirking villain continued to blast away.  More people vanished with each fired round of his gun... and he laughed with the fall of every target.  Running kids would see their friends next to them one moment, then empty falling clothing the next.  They fled into rooms and out open windows, or breaking them with chairs if possible in their desperate attempts to escape.  The bottom floor was able to evacuate fairly efficiently, with those who had escaped quickly calling the police.  Those on the second and third floors were trapped.  As the chaos continued, those who weren't running for their lives were ducking into classrooms and barricading the doors.

We were at the far end of the main hall on the second floor when it began, my boyfriend Steve and I.  My name?  Stephanie Jensen... but everyone just calls me Steph.  I know, Stephen and Stephanie... trust me, our friends never stopped teasing us about it.  

When the shots rung out and we saw Tyrell simply... vanish, Steve wasted no time.  He took me by the hand and the two of us ducked into a small janitor's closet.  We could hear the hell being unleashed outside, and I felt guilty for holding the door shut, but it was already so cramped within the tiny room.  There was barely enough room for Steve and I.

When the crowd passed, I could hear him walk by... laughing his horrible laugh.  I could hear his boots stomping around strangely as continued his slow pursuit.  We could hear more shots being fired far, far away from where we were... that's when we realized the bastard wasn't doing this on his own.

He had a partner.  At least one.

Of course he did, how else did he hope to corral as many victims as possible in a building with several emergency exits?

Steve held me in his arms as I tried to keep my involuntary sobbing as quiet as possible.  "Steve... who is he?  Why is he doing this?"  I whispered

"I only caught a glimpse of him, but it looks like Milton Sloat."

"Milton Sloat?  Who the fuck is that?!"  

"Milton?  Mutant Milton?"  Steve seemed amazed that I didn't know who the fuck he was talking about, "Christ, Steph... we've gone to school with the creep since kindergarten!  Remember?  He shit himself in class in third grade?"  

"Oh fuck, that guy... I thought he moved away," I replied.

"Steph... he's literally in our English class."

I felt slightly ashamed, realizing that I'm probably not the only one who didn't notice this little weirdo... and that's why we were in the situation we were in.

"He hangs out with those other two creeps at the edge of the parking lot... I don't know their names, but I have seen the disgusting shit they call "art" in art class.  Little animals gutted and crucified... sick stuff.  Got themselves suspended over it."

Ah... so there were three of them.  At least we knew that.

"Alright, so now we know who they are, what the fuck are we supposed to do Steve?"

"You... you are gonna try to escape.  I'm gonna try to take one of them out."

My eyes must have looked like they were gonna pop out of my head in shock, "y-y-you're gonna what?!  I don't think so, Stephen Wells!"

"You sound like my mother," he replied.

"Good!  Because you sound like an idiot!  You're gonna get yourself killed!"

"I'll be fine.  I can handle some Neo-wannabe-Columbine-fan boy.  I just have to sneak up on him."  Steve's hand touched mine at the doorknob, then removed it so he could crack it open himself.  "I'm gonna take a quick peak.  It's quiet out there... and the shots we're hearing are coming from other parts of the school."

"Steve, no!  Don't do this!"

A band of light cut down Steve's face as he opened the door.  "He's gone.  Now listen... you can either stay here, or you can make a break for it... but I'm gonna take one of these fuckers down."

"Steve, goddamnit!  If you do this those bastards aren't gonna have to kill you because I will!"

Steve swung the door open and there stood Milton.  He had the gun casually resting on his shoulder and was just standing there smiling at us and shaking his head.  

"Steve... Stephanie," he greeted us in a sarcastic formality usually reserved for movie villains.

"Milton," Steve replied.

"I'm glad at least YOU know who I am," said Milton, then directed his gaze to me.  "Who the fuck did the two of you think you were going to sneak up on?!  I could hear you assholes bickering from over by the stairwell!"

"Now Milton... we go back a long time, you and me... can we talk about this?"

"Of course, Steve... I'm not an unreasonable man," Milton said through his unnerving smile.  "What would you like to talk about?"  He paused while scratching his chin like a cartoon character.  "Oh!  I know!  How's about we talk about the time you and your jock buddies tossed me in the trunk of your daddy's car... took me out to the mountains, stripped me, covered me in honey... then left me there!  'Watch out for bears,' I think you said as you drove away."

I could t believe what I was hearing, Steve wouldn't do something like that!  But the way he hung his head in shame... I knew it was true.

Still, I thought I needed to step in, maybe being nice to this psycho might butter him up.  "That's horrible, Milton... there's no call for something like that.  But can we just let the past be the past?  Can we make it up to you somehow?"

"The past?!  Ha!  This isn't some wedgie this fucker gave me in the second grade, this happened last week, bitch!  I've still, got the sores on my feet from having to walk barefoot back to town!"

I glared at Steve speechless.  He wouldn't look back.

"And what about that thing," Steve asked referencing the menacing looking firearm resting on Milton's shoulder, "that didn't get built in a week... and you certainly didn't just pick it up at the sporting goods store."

Milton let his gun drop into his hands and admired it while answering.  "Yes... true... fair enough.  It isn't my design... it's something my mom was working on before she drank herself to death.  But it's been years in the making... I'm so glad I finally get to see what the 'ol gal can do!"

Milton returned his gaze to Steve, along with his beaming smile, "but look at me, rattling off like a Bond villain... revealing all my secrets... allowing you to buy time while you to figure out how to defeat me."  He never took his eyes off Steve, but spoke to me, "say goodbye to Steve, Stephanie."

"W-w-what?!  No... no... don't d-,"I stammered before he cut me off with an intense, raised voice.

"I SAID SAY GOODBYE TO STEVE!!!"

His smile was gone, only intense hate burning in his eyes.  I knew there was no escape for Steve or myself.  I took his hand as tears rolled down both of our cheeks.  

"G-goodbye, Steve."

Milton had fired the gun before I even finished saying Steve's name.  The bang was so loud that I had to reflexively shut my eyes... and when I opened them, all that was left of Steve was a pile of his clothes capped with his letterman jacket at my feet.

The barrel of the gun smoked from its tip as Milton turned it on me.  His gleeful smile had returned, clearly wanting to make me sweat a little more before killing me too.

"You, know Stephanie... I can't feel but a little hurt that you don't know I exist.  I certainly know you do.  How could I not?  Your face is everywhere.  Valedictorian, head cheerleader, class president... anyone ever tell you you're a bit of an overachiever?"

I said nothing and he just laughed at his own wit.

"Funny thing is... I asked you out once."

My jaw dropped in disbelief... he couldn't be serious, could he?

"I see you don't remember that either.  Yup... walked right up to the head cheerleader and asked you to the movies.  You'd just broken up with Brian Watson after you found out he cheated on you with Chloe."

He was thoroughly amused by my head cocking back in surprise.

"Please, don't be so shocked... your dirty laundry is spread all over the school.  It took every once of courage I had to approach you.  I didn't actually think you'd say yes... why would you?  I'm not delusional.  But I did see someone who was hurting, maybe like I do... inside, everyday."

He stepped closer to me making sure, as if there were any doubt, that I knew he was the one in control.

"You were alone in the hallway... clearly trying to hold back a dam's worth of tears.  So I thought, hey!  Maybe she just needs someone to talk to... maybe she'd like to get away from all this... fucking... high school drama bullshit for a couple of hours with a guy that couldn't give a shit less about it!  So I asked... and do you remember what you did?"

Again I didn't answer him.

"Of course not... because in your mind I don't exist.  You could have said 'yes'... you could have said 'no thank you'... either would have satisfied me.  But you... you just scoffed at me... you laughed... then joined up with your stuck-up friends.  Their quick glances assured me I was the butt of the joke."

I couldn't take any more, "for fuck sakes, if you're gonna do it, just do it!  Just spare me from your goddamn self pity!"

He took a step back and lifted the barrel so it was lined up with my face, "tell me, Stephanie... is it funny now?"

I just furrowed my brow and hoped that staring him down would be enough... it wasn't.

"Well, I'd love to stand here and chit chat all day, but I've got a lot of work to do before the cops show up.  Don't worry though, Steve will be waiting for you..."

The weapon fired up like a machine switching on and flashed with another loud bang.

I wasn't sure what had happened, or even what I was expecting to happen... but I wasn't dead.  My whole body tingled with electricity and my ears rang from the weapon's discharge.  I hadn't lost consciousness, but I didn't know where I was.  It didn't make any sense.  I was trapped under some kind of dark blue tarp, heavy and coarse.  

And I was naked.

What had this fucker done?

I crawled through the vast expanse of fabric on my hands and knees until I finally saw light at the end of the tunnel.  Once I crawled out and adjusted my eyes to the blinding light above, I couldn't believe what I saw.  Steve!  It was Steve!  He was alive!  He was naked too for some reason, and he looked terrified... like he was trying to warn me about something.  It took a few seconds for the ringing to subside enough to hear him.

"...Stephanie!  Fucking run!"

Boom.

A wall of polished black fell in front of me, vibrating the floor and echoing off the walls.  Steve was gone.  I craned my neck back to see where the wall had come from.  My heart sank when I realized it had laces, each as thick as nautical rope.  It was a boot.  And this boot was attached to the tallest and thickest leg I'd ever seen.  And even higher up than that... the cackling face of Milton Sloat.

If I could breath, I would have screamed.

He moved so fast I couldn't even begin to react.  His fingers wrapped around me and and lifted me so fast my ears popped like I was on an airplane.  He held my arms pinned against my sides and I could feel the air rushing across my feet as they dangled from the bottom of his grasp.  When I finally stoped, Milton's leering gaze and slimy smile filled my view.  

"Not exactly what you were expecting, is it Stephanie?"  He gloated.

I was still in too much of a state of shock to even try and process what was happening.  I didn't say anything... because I couldn't.

"Hey, those friends of yours I was just talking about... well never you worry, you're about to be reunited with them."

I heard a loud zipping sound from below then the hellish elevator ride continued downwards toward an enormous open duffle bag... filled with other screaming, naked girls. Milton dropped me inside and I fell on top of the others in a heap.  The light disappeared as the polyester roof above us zipped shut.  

The girls beneath me struggled to free themselves from the dog pile while the bag swung back and forth with each of our captor's thundering footfalls.  When we finally freed ourselves of the world's most terrifying game of Twister, we all pressed ourselves against the walls of the bag to brace ourselves from overpowering motion.  

Just enough light penetrated through the fabric that I could make out the faces of thirteen other girls.  Some I only recognized from the hallways as fellow seniors, but didn't know their names.  Once my gaze found its way to the right, I saw my two best friends sobbing into their palms.

"Kimmy!  Erin!  You're ok!"  I shouted and crawled across the bottom to hug them.  

"OK?!  You call this ok?!"  Erin cried, "were the size of rats!  He shrank us!  He fucking shrank us!!!" 

Kimmy just held me against her quivering bare skin and cried into my shoulder.  In my head I knew we were smaller, but the reality of it didn't take hold until Erin said it out loud.  It was when Kimmy leaned back that I saw she was smeared in blood.  

"Oh god!  Kimmy are you hurt?!  Where are you bleeding from?!" I asked, as I began to spin my gaze around the inside of the bag for something to stop the bleeding.

"No... Stephanie... it came off of you...," Kimmy tried to explain through her sobbing.

I looked down at myself, and sure enough, I had it splattered all over me.  Was I bleeding?  No.  That's when I realized where it came from...

"Steph?  What happened?"  Erin asked.  She must have been able to see my face turning white.

Steve.  It was Steve's blood.  I was so over whelmed by everything, I... I... didn't think.  Steve disappeared right in front of me... except he didn't... Milton had crushed him... stamped him out like a bug.  

And I did nothing... I just... I just watched it happen.  His blood spray hit me and I was too frightened to even feel it.  I watched him die... I just sat there like an idiot and watched him die.  I broke down right there, calling out his name, screaming it.  My friends held me... and Milton's disembodied laughter rumbled down from above us like a satisfied god.

As time continued to pass, the deafening blast from Milton's device had all of his prisoners holding our ears to keep from going deaf.  Then, after each blast, the zipper would rip open and more girls would come raining down from above.  It wasn't much longer before it was so crowded inside that we were packed in like sardines.  More and more kept coming, girls piled on girls in a suffocating human crush.

My friends and I had positioned ourselves along the wall and were able to breath through the tiny holes in the fabric, but the pressure building behind us was getting too intense.  And the screaming... the endless howl of dozens of other girls wailing in pain and terror... I still wake up at night after having nightmares about it.

From the sounds of sirens and muffled megaphones outside, saw could tell the police had the building surrounded.  Once he couldn't pack any more of us in the bag, Milton took up a spot on the top floor where he could stare down on circus below.  He just continued to laugh, like he knew something they didn't.

I never saw the faces of his two cohorts.  Milton had them positioned at the first floor exits in case the SWAT team attempted to make a push.  He called them on his phone every few minutes for status updates and then quietly sat still... with the occasional snickering of course.

Hours passed by like that.  As the shrieking inside the bag began to calm, I worried that some of the other girls had begun to pass out... or worse.  And me... I'm horribly claustrophobic.  I couldn't take it anymore, so I decided to try and appeal to Milton's humanity once again... if the bastard had any left.

"M-m-milton?  Milton... can you hear me?"  I called out through the side of the bag.  

"Yes, Stephanie?"  He replied.  I was a little surprised he recognized me from my voice alone.

"Milton... can you please let us out of here?  We're getting crushed... I think some of the girls might be dying!"

The zipper ripped open above us once again and Milton's gargantuan face hovered above it.  I felt the soft surface below my feet suddenly feel hard as he set the bag down on the floor.  His enormous hands spread the bag open wide and girls began to fall into the open spaces that allowed.  There were a couple of them, I recognized them from Physics class, that weren't moving... and my heart sank... my stomach clenched.

Milton's enormous paw reached in and snatched the two girls up in a single swipe.  He held them close to his face, then shook them a little as he tried to wake them.  When they didn't budge, he opened his mouth and took a long... wet... disgusting lick of both girls from toe to head.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"  I cried out.  At that point I felt a violent tug at my arm as Erin drug me to the floor.

"What are you doing?" She sternly whispered, "look around you!  What do you think this about?!  Why do you think you're here and Steve is a smear on the bottom of his fucking sole?!  Don't make this worse for us!"

Milton continued to suckle on the pair of unconscious girls as I could only stare upwards in horror.  Erin was right, everyone in the bag was in the senior class and female, the prettiest and most popular ones anyway.  He'd snuffed out all the boys who'd picked on him and... "collected" us!  I felt my blood turn to ice and shivered with terror.

Just then one of the girls awoke screaming, then the other.  They were bathed in Milton's saliva and struggling to free themselves from his grasp.  Milton just squeezed them tighter and cackled his nauseating laugh.  In a quick movement he pressed the two girls together in a scissoring position and began to grind them against each other.

"Come on, you little cunts... cum for Milton... cum for your master."

The poor girls could only stare at each other in tears as he continued to grind them together like a weird kid with a pair of his sister's dolls.  Erin had told me to lie low, but I couldn't take it anymore.

"That's enough!  Let 'em go, you fucking incel simp!" I screamed as I climbed back to my feet.  Erin tried to pull me back down, but I whipped my arm away.

Milton replied, "Ah, I see someone else wants to join the party!"

His hand was around me once again before I could even make a move.  He brought me close to his face as he licked his lips.  His zit-pocked face appeared even more grotesque than before and his clothes reeked of mildew, par for the course for basement-dwellers like him.  

The other two girls were pressed together in his opposing hand and he grazed one of their asses with his thumb as he stared me down.  My heart raced as I closed my eyes and braced myself for my own horrendous tongue bath.  When it didn't come, I lowered my arms and opened a single eye.  Milton was just staring and grinning at me.  The other two girls continued to sob as he fondled them in his other hand like a pair of Chinese Baoding balls.

"Oh, I can't wait to have my way with you, Stephanie.  The best things in life are worth waiting for though," he whispered softly.  I wasn't sure wether to be relived or even more terrified.

"Please, let us go," I pleaded, "this is so fucked up, Milton!"

"Goddamnit, Steph!  Shut the fuck up!"  I heard Erin chastising from below.

"You're friend has much better sense than you, Stephanie, that's for sure," Milton said amusedly.

"You can't think you're going to get away with this?  From what I can hear, this place is surrounded by cops!  You're not getting out of here alive, Milton!"

Milton just continued to grin and look me over like an expensive meal, "that's where you're wrong, little dolly.  They're never even gonna know I was here."

The look of confusion on my face made him roar with laughter once again.

"I guess now is the time for my big Bond villain speech after all, being that I've already got all of you where I want you.  Sure, why not?  I've got some time to kill.  Schemes this good deserve an audience."

He gave his other two "dollies" another long, sloppy lick... and then dumped them back into the bag.  Once they hit the floor, the pair clasped onto the closest arms that would embrace them.

"Do you know the history of this school, Stephanie?"  He asked.

"What the fuck does that have to do with anything?" I asked in return

"Everything," he replied, "you see, this school was built in the fifties, big bomb scare times, ya dig?"  Lots of schools built around that time had bomb shelters installed during construction.  This one was no exception."  He continued, "after the fall of the Berlin Wall, the world kinda took a deep breath of relief from the fear of atomic annihilation.  The principal in charge here decided to brick up the shelter... seems he was tired of the high rate of teen pregnancy in our school resulting from all the kids who'd use the old place as a fuck pad."

I still didn't understand what any of this had to do with me and the rest of the senior class girls ending up waist high to a Barbie doll.

"Administrations change, teachers retire.  Before long, the place was completely forgotten.  That is... until I discovered it by accident.  I'd sneak down there to get high every now and then, and one day a brick came loose, revealing the space to me. The perfect hiding place.  I've been loading it up with food and water to last months if needs be."

"So what?  You and you're two idiot friends are just gonna camp out and play with your new "dollies" together until this all blows over?!  You idiot!  Someone is gonna have blueprints.  They're not gonna just stop looking for you!"

"That's just the thing, little Stephanie... they're not coming," he replied smugly.

Again, my confusion made him chuckle.

"I've been very careful to avoid what few cameras this school has.  Thank god our principal is a total cheapskate.  As far as anyone else will be concerned... this was a two man job.  There was so much chaos when we opened fire, no one will think to question it.  Columbine set a sort of precedent.  The cops will be satisfied to gun those two down, then...," he traced the side of my face with the tip of his giant finger and I turned my head away in revulsion.

"...then you and I will have plenty of time to play."

The words made chills run down my spine.  I had no comeback, no witty one liner to fill the silence.  Just awestruck terror.  

Milton finally turned his eyes, burning with desire, away and down towards the others.  "...all of us will.  Training is going to be so much fun."

A collective gasp escaped the mouths of his prisoners.  Pets... that's all he saw us as... pets to be toyed with and controlled... to be used to his darkest desires...

...to be broken.

Those that weren't already crying broke down and sobbed openly, hope leaving their hearts with every second.

Then...

"You... you... you lying... motherfucker!"  A new voice proclaimed coming from the front of the room.  For the first time the smile on Milton's face faded and he looked genuinely worried.

"Cory!?  The fuck are you doing here?!  You're supposed to be guarding the doors!"

"Came up to check on ya, you missed our call in time... but I can see you're enjoying yourself," Cory replied.

Almost carelessly, Milton dropped me back into the bag, once again landing on top of the other girls.  Milton shot to his feet and raised his hands.  I couldn't see what was happening, but I got the impression Cory had the drop on him.

"Now take it easy, there's plenty here to go around," Milton said as he gestured towards the bag.  "We don't have to do this."

"Fuck you!  You were gonna let us die, Milton!  I heard every goddamn word you said!  I thought we were your friends?"

"Cory, wait, you are... I-"

The sound of glass breaking stopped Milton mid-sentence.  His body crumpled and crashed to the floor with the impact of a building falling.  It wasn't Cory, his gun never went off, we most certainly would have heard it.  It was a sniper from outside, they'd taken Milton out just like that.  It wasn't till sometime later that I wondered why someone with their hands up would be the first target.  Were they aiming at Cory and missed?

A second shot entered through the window, hitting Cory in the shoulder.  He dropped to the ground as well, screaming out in pain.  We could hear him dragging himself towards the window until he finally came into view above us.  He took a single contemptuous look into the bag and then began blindly spraying his AR-15 over the wall towards the cops.  They returned fire and giant shards of glass showered down on us like fucking jagged meteorites.  Cory fired back until his ammunition ran out.  Then, he went for Milton's... shrink ray, I guess you'd call it.  He stood up and began unloading it towards the cops like he was fucking Stallone or something, making one last dramatic stand.  He only got a couple of shots off when a bullet passed through his skull and he crumpled to the ground on top of Milton with an equally loud boom.  His blood spray rained down on us inside the bag.

We held still, covering our ears, covering our heads, covering each other from the falling glass.  When all seemed quiet, I peeked my head above the others.  

"Hey... hey!  Girls!  They're dead!  The cops... they got 'em!"

Everyone looked up in unison and a riotous cheer rang out from the world's smallest crowd.

"Come on!  Let's get out of here!"  I yelled out and we began to help each other up over the zippered edge.  Not a single girl had made it over before a new figure appeared above us.  Clad in black and carrying an assault rifle, those at the opening quickly scurried back down inside the bag... as if it offered some kind of safety.

Kimmy's face suddenly stretched into a wide smile and she began to jump up and down, waving her arms in the air.  "Hey!  HEY!  Officer!  Help us!  Down here!"

The giant man was a SWAT team member and was just leaning down to check the pulses of the two young terrorists when he spotted us.  He fell back against the wall in shock.  The rest of his team arrived and all of them just gawked at us in slack-jawed disbelief.  Needless to say, the reality our nakedness became blazingly apparent with so many giant eyes on us and we tried to cover ourselves as best as we could.

"Johnson?!  Any sign of the third shooter?!"  The voice of what must have been a commanding officer echoed through the room.

"Uh... no, sir!  But we found this..."

The man knelt down to get a better look at us and his face turned white as a ghost.

"The gun," I shouted to anyone who would listen, "he used that to shrink us!"  I pointed to the barrel that was sticking up over the top of the bag.  One of the men picked it up gently, obviously worried it might go off again.  "See if there's some kind of reverse function on it!"

Just as the man holding it began to inspect the device, the sound of gunfire filled the room once again.  Bullets filled the vests of the men around us and they returned fire on what must have been shooter number three.  I never saw his face, and to this day I still don't know his name.  The officers around us were injured but not killed, thank god.  

But the shrink ray... the spray of bullets had destroyed it.  

You could almost hear the sound of our collective hearts sinking in our chests.

"NNNNNOOOOOOOOOO!"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After that... we were taken to some kind of advance research facility.  All manner of tests have been performed on us, invasive and painful doesn't even begin to explain what we've been through. We were assured they were looking for an answer, for some way to reverse the process...

...that was over five years ago.

I think anyway, time doesn't have a lot of meaning when you have nothing to do but look out of the glass from inside your tank.  They kept us isolated from each other for so long, twenty-nine girls in total, including myself... along with a pair of middle-aged male cops who took hits from Cory during the final firefight.  A convenient way for the force to deny them their pensions, I'm sure.

We were given little... well, they weren't much more than hospital gowns to cover ourselves.  I've often wondered what member of staff got the job of making them.  Like, was some janitor or an old lady in the mail room promoted because of their penchant for origami, something of that nature.  I've had nothing but time to think about these sorts of things, obviously.  It's not like we're getting any answers from the nursing staff.  They don't speak to us when they come in to feed us and clean our latrines.  So many times I've tried to talk to them only to be completely ignored... I've since given up.  I came to the conclusion that they must have been instructed to keep interaction with us to a minimum.  Why is anyone's guess.

The bastards wouldn't be even let us see our families, no matter how much we begged and pleaded.

After a few months we were allowed a single day a week to interact with one another, which at least gave us something to look forward to.  Girls I had never interacted with when we were in school became dear friends and petty high school rivalries were completely forgotten.  We were unified and hopeful.  We believed that one day we'd be able to live our lives on our terms and see our loved ones once again.

But... like I said... that was over five years ago.

Time began strip away that which kept us going... hope.  Even our weekly congregational was stripped of us when a pact of four girls took each other's hands and stepped off the countertop to their deaths.  Now there isn't anything sharp enough within our tanks... our cages... our cells, to allow us to open our wrists and join them.  I miss my friends, but they were the lucky ones.

We actually had to develop our own simple form of sign language to communicate with one another... just to keep from going mad.  Five years is a long time, especially when it feels like there's no relief in sight.  We had to come to accept that Milton had taken his secrets to the grave with him.

Then, for the first time in god knows how long, change came to the unchanging.  New tanks were set up, lots of new tanks.  It blew our minds when those tanks began to fill up with more tiny people.  They looked quite different than us... rougher... more world-worn.

God we wanted to talk to them so badly, to know how they ended up there, and why....

...to ask them what it's like on the outside.

The room soon became a hall as more and more shrunken arrived.  I found myself placed between a pretty African American woman and a thin, tweeted-out looking man about halfway up in the long corridor.  It broke my heart... for years now, Erin and Kimmy had flanked either side of my tank... and now they were so far away I couldn't even see them.  Too large a price to pay for the answers I sought.

My new neighbors told me through the glass about the police state the country was in.  Now, any and all crime now had a zero tolerance policy across the nation.  The military and police had a new standard issue weapon and they didn't hesitate to use it.  It was all part of the current administration's authoritarian "rebranding" of America as a place that would no longer tolerate "social unrest."  To me that sounds like more than just thieves and killers... that sounds like protesters and activists.

In a few short years the United States had become the singular world power. The rumor is that the government has been able to turn Milton’s tech into a weapon of mass destruction... or should I say reduction. No one is sure how, but the popular theory is that it”s in the satellites circling the globe. Countries like North Korea, China, and even Russia have become very quiet. The rest of the world simply gives in to our government”s every demand.

My neighbors seemed just as shocked that I had no knowledge of the state of the world as I felt hearing it.

Both of them had warrants out for their arrests on drug charges, but the police just shot them with their favorite new toys... no warning... no Miranda rights... that's the way it is now.  Those they incarcerate no longer have rights.  They could be used as lab rats or sold to the highest bidder... America's way of paying for two decades of wars they were never gonna win, I guess.

And what did that mean for us?  As horrible and terrifying as the stories they told me were, why were we here?  We're not criminals, we're the victims!  Well, I'll tell you... 

...we were forgotten.  

If they ever even cared about restoring us in the first place. The more I think about it, the more I realize all they ever cared about in the first place was the weapon. How to fix it, how to recreate it, and how to mass produce it.

And now, well... like I said before... we were the best looking girls in our school.  The odds that any of us will become lab rats is far and remote.  Besides... we already played that game... for years.  That's what the junkies and murderers are for now.  These aren't just cells, they're display cases.

No, the reality is we're going to become the main draw of the first national auction.  Best case scenario, we become highly prized exotic "pets" for eccentric billionaires, living to be shown off at parties and galas so they can flex on their competition.  But what I fear most is what most certainly awaits us.  It's been over five years since Milton Sloat shrank us to use as his own personal sex slaves, a harem of living dolls for a deranged egomaniac.  It may not be Milton, but I'm afraid our fate will remain the same.  At least with him we would have had each other... how’s that for feeling conflicted? There's no ending here we don't end up separated from one another as the bitcoin starts changing hands.

That motherfucker.

That motherfucker!  If there's a hell, I hope he's suffering in it.

In his selfish need to show us up and take what he wanted, he didn't just ruin our lives... he ruined everything.  The entire country is in some state of fascism masquerading as democracy... and all because some insane, horny teenage boy got his feelings hurt by the girl he liked... yours truly.

Try bearing the weight of that on your shoulders.

So here I wait... in my cell, hoping whoever purchases me will at least be kind.  I'd imagine the prices these people are going to pay would mean they'd at least take care of me.  You don't spend six grand on a purebred just to kick it in the face.  The irony is... I find myself feeling... I don't know... optimistic?  That may not be the right word for how I feel about it... I'm not sure there's one created yet that adequately balls my emotions into a convenient, easy-to-swallow pill.  It sounds terrible, I know, but a chance at a life other than four glass walls in a giant white room... at this point, I'll take anything just for the chance of seeing the sun again.  To have fresh air blow across my face.  To feel something other than this glass under my feet.  Forcing myself to accept the grim reality that I will probably never see my friends again has been the hardest thing of all.  I had to do the same thing with my family years ago.

Huh... how about that... you did it Milton!  You won!  You've got me sitting here, fully embracing a life as someone's loyal pet.  I'm broken... that's what you wanted, isn't it?

Congratulations.

Fuck you, Milton.

Fuck you.


The End.
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."

-Super Hans, Peep Show

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Bloodthirstybutcher
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Re: Shrink SuspenStories

Post by Bloodthirstybutcher » Thu Oct 28, 2021 1:22 pm

Thanks to everyone who has read these shorts! if you enjoyed them I'd love to hear from you, maybe which was your favorite.
"People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis, you can't trust people, Jeremy."

-Super Hans, Peep Show

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