Read Online Trigger Warning: Extreme Horror: Contains Strong Sexual Content, Violence, Drug Use, and Language. by John Raptor - Free Book Online
Authors: John Raptor
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either direction.
“Figures,” I mutter. “Couldn’t be that easy.”
“Stand back,” Robert says, raises his foot, and gives the door a solid kick. It flies open, smacking the wall on the other side. Guess sick fucks can’t afford door bumpers.
“Impressive, Copper.”
Robert smirks, as if to say: I’m hot shit, I know. (Don’t get too cocky, ape-man. You were sobbing and muttering like a bitch just a second ago.)
If the labyrinth was the basement of this hell hole, I’m assuming this is the ground level: more of the same bullshit. Narrow hallways, maze-like…except the floors are hardwood instead of concrete, and the walls are covered in peeling yellow paper.
The Yellow Wallpaper.
I shudder.
I’m going to end up like that woman in the story, thinking she’s trapped behind it—except I’ll have the sadistic smiley faces and flowers joining me as company.
Fly paper, I think. Trapped in it like a fly on fly paper.
My heart throbs in my throat when I hear…muffled screams? Moaning? Is someone being tortured or fucked? Maybe an ape-man raping a woman?
Coming from somewhere down the hall.
Robert bolts toward the noise.
I follow, somewhat reluctantly. Curious what it is, afraid to find out, but not wanting to be left alone in this maze. I’d rather be with an ape-man than face another one of those Bunnies.
I wonder if there are more of them.
Have to be.
The Bunny couldn’t have been the only torturer in this hell hole.
Could he?
I wish he was, but know it’s a lie.
Where there’s an ape-man (or bunny-man), there’s a colony…eager to murder and rape and stick their dirty fingers in the pie and contaminate and destroy everything.
Robert halts at a fork in the hall…listens for the noise.
Silence.
Then we hear it again.
To the right.
Muffled screams.
To the left.
Muffled screams.
Right.
Right.
Left.
Right.
Left.
Left…
…a long hallway with a door at the end.
That’s where it’s coming from.
The muffled cries.
Robert rushes down the hall, tries the door…it’s locked, of course.
Kicks it in.
I stare into the room over the ape-man’s shoulder.
Erica (Candy Cane).
Oh god.
I grab my belly and keel over onto the floor…afraid to move from the spot.
Erica is naked, chained to the headboard by her neck, her limbs cut to stubs, her mouth sewn shut. Between her legs is a gaping bleeding hole (God, I feel pain down there just looking at it).
A crater of burnt flesh oozes blood and yellow pus next to her right breast; a vacant spot where her other—
Written on the wall:
THEY CUT OUT MY NAUGHTY PARTS!
Her vagina and left breast hang from nails, both dripping crimson patterns down the yellow paper.
Robert expels bile onto the hardwood.
I stay kneeled in the hallway, crying. Muttering: "Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god…”
Robert gets a hold of himself and moves toward Erica, pauses—unsure what to do. Just stares, then glances around the room—
There’s an acetylene torch in the corner…must be what they used to cauterize her stumps after they cut her arms and legs off—with what, god only know—
Then I see the chainsaw, flesh and gore stuck in the teeth.
I wonder if they used the acetylene torch to cauterize her breast wound and her vag—
“DON’T WORRY, BE HAPPY!”
Robert jumps and I scream.
On the night stand is one of those singing fish (splattered with blood) that used to be popular…except its head is missing. As the headless bass wreaths on the plaque, it belts out more of the song, reassuring us to not worry, but be happy. Halfway through: the voice becomes slurred, drawn out, deep (“dooooonnn’t worrrrrry”), until it dies.
Robert catches his breath, moves forward.
A gun lies on the pillow next to Erica’s head, as does a scalpel.
The ape-man uses the scalpel to cut the stitches binding Candy Cane’s mouth…at which point (when her tongue is finally freed), she screams at the top of her lungs: “KILL ME! JUST FUCKING KILL
“Figures,” I mutter. “Couldn’t be that easy.”
“Stand back,” Robert says, raises his foot, and gives the door a solid kick. It flies open, smacking the wall on the other side. Guess sick fucks can’t afford door bumpers.
“Impressive, Copper.”
Robert smirks, as if to say: I’m hot shit, I know. (Don’t get too cocky, ape-man. You were sobbing and muttering like a bitch just a second ago.)
If the labyrinth was the basement of this hell hole, I’m assuming this is the ground level: more of the same bullshit. Narrow hallways, maze-like…except the floors are hardwood instead of concrete, and the walls are covered in peeling yellow paper.
The Yellow Wallpaper.
I shudder.
I’m going to end up like that woman in the story, thinking she’s trapped behind it—except I’ll have the sadistic smiley faces and flowers joining me as company.
Fly paper, I think. Trapped in it like a fly on fly paper.
My heart throbs in my throat when I hear…muffled screams? Moaning? Is someone being tortured or fucked? Maybe an ape-man raping a woman?
Coming from somewhere down the hall.
Robert bolts toward the noise.
I follow, somewhat reluctantly. Curious what it is, afraid to find out, but not wanting to be left alone in this maze. I’d rather be with an ape-man than face another one of those Bunnies.
I wonder if there are more of them.
Have to be.
The Bunny couldn’t have been the only torturer in this hell hole.
Could he?
I wish he was, but know it’s a lie.
Where there’s an ape-man (or bunny-man), there’s a colony…eager to murder and rape and stick their dirty fingers in the pie and contaminate and destroy everything.
Robert halts at a fork in the hall…listens for the noise.
Silence.
Then we hear it again.
To the right.
Muffled screams.
To the left.
Muffled screams.
Right.
Right.
Left.
Right.
Left.
Left…
…a long hallway with a door at the end.
That’s where it’s coming from.
The muffled cries.
Robert rushes down the hall, tries the door…it’s locked, of course.
Kicks it in.
I stare into the room over the ape-man’s shoulder.
Erica (Candy Cane).
Oh god.
I grab my belly and keel over onto the floor…afraid to move from the spot.
Erica is naked, chained to the headboard by her neck, her limbs cut to stubs, her mouth sewn shut. Between her legs is a gaping bleeding hole (God, I feel pain down there just looking at it).
A crater of burnt flesh oozes blood and yellow pus next to her right breast; a vacant spot where her other—
Written on the wall:
THEY CUT OUT MY NAUGHTY PARTS!
Her vagina and left breast hang from nails, both dripping crimson patterns down the yellow paper.
Robert expels bile onto the hardwood.
I stay kneeled in the hallway, crying. Muttering: "Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god…”
Robert gets a hold of himself and moves toward Erica, pauses—unsure what to do. Just stares, then glances around the room—
There’s an acetylene torch in the corner…must be what they used to cauterize her stumps after they cut her arms and legs off—with what, god only know—
Then I see the chainsaw, flesh and gore stuck in the teeth.
I wonder if they used the acetylene torch to cauterize her breast wound and her vag—
“DON’T WORRY, BE HAPPY!”
Robert jumps and I scream.
On the night stand is one of those singing fish (splattered with blood) that used to be popular…except its head is missing. As the headless bass wreaths on the plaque, it belts out more of the song, reassuring us to not worry, but be happy. Halfway through: the voice becomes slurred, drawn out, deep (“dooooonnn’t worrrrrry”), until it dies.
Robert catches his breath, moves forward.
A gun lies on the pillow next to Erica’s head, as does a scalpel.
The ape-man uses the scalpel to cut the stitches binding Candy Cane’s mouth…at which point (when her tongue is finally freed), she screams at the top of her lungs: “KILL ME! JUST FUCKING KILL
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