The Dawn of Darkness (Part 25)

He led me back to the toolshed, yanking on the twine that was still bound around my wrists. I dragged my feet as much as I could, struggled every step of the way. By the time that we'd gotten back to the small room, he had this dreamy smile on his lips. His eyes were still someplace else. He threw me to the ground and raised the butt of the rifle up when I motioned to kick at him, shaking his head sternly at me.

I could make out his erection in his pants from this angle. He was getting off on all of this. My fighting. My blood. He was getting off on the idea that he was hurting me. A light clicked on.

"Hit me!" I purred as seductively as I could. His eyebrow raised. "Come on, baby. Hit me." I lifted my chin up. "Hit me good. Make me bleed."

He dropped the rifle to his side and took a step away from me, looking at me as if I'd grown a second head. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and banged on the side of his head with his free hand. He was mumbling to himself. "No, no, we're not doing that, we're not doing that, she's faking, it's a joke, she's faking, it's not real, shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!"

I crawled forward on the ground. "Awe, come on. I like it. Hit me! Hit me!" I whined the demand out like a little girl whining for an ice cream cone.

He looked down and his eyes were wide with confusion. "No. No. No more pleasure. No more happy girl. Time to die. Time to die. You've been around too long. Time to die, Dawn. Time to die."

I flinched. He'd said my name. There was a hint of recognition on his face. He was registering who I was, but as I looked into those eyes of his, glowing a golden hue, I knew this wasn't the Patrick that I first met. This was someone else. Something else. This was still the evil.

"Where's Patrick?" I asked.

"There is no Patrick." He looked off into the corner of the shed.

"Bullshit! Where's Patrick? Tell Patrick I want to play. Patrick would want to play. Patrick would like this game. Bring out Patrick!"

Keep talking, I thought. Keep him distracted. Buy time. That 911 dispatcher had to have figured out something was wrong by now. How long it would take for someone to respond was something I couldn't figure. I didn't know how far out we were from a local police station. I didn't know if they would know to come looking back here. There were so many variables that I had no control over. Control what you can, my mind said. Control HIM.

I leaned back and let my hands drift between my legs. "Patrick likes this." I pulled my lips apart and gave him a good look. "Let Patrick have one last shot at this."

He was shifting his weight from foot to foot, his eyes transfixed on the motion of my hands. His gaze shimmered for a moment. For about half of a second, I was almost certain that the man that I had gotten to know, the one that I had carried on with was in the room with me again.

Then the glimmer disappeared and he brought his foot back and swung it forward hard. It connected with my hands which had been trying to show off for him. My fingers slammed up inside of me hard. I felt my fingernails scrape up my inner walls. The back of my hand felt like it had shattered. I screamed out in agony and fell to my side, writhing on the floor.

As I sobbed, the room was filled with my crying and his laughter. "Stupid bitch!" he yelled out between chuckles. "You stupid, dirty slut! You can't get me! I fucking got YOU!"

He was dancing around in a little circle. His feet were scraping little marks on the floor. I could see the outline of a square, something that looked like a hatch door in the ground. I didn't have long to think about what it might have been before I felt his foot make contact with my body again, this time my curled over back. I felt my bladder seize. I'd been holding it for so long that this blow sent me over the edge. I wet myself just as my back arced from the pain.

This brought new peals of laughter from him. "Awwwwwwwww. Look. Dawn pissed herself too! Wanna see, Katie?"

Again with that damn Katie name, except that this time he'd used it in conjunction with my own. He leaned down and yanked on a twisted piece of metal on the floor. It pulled up the square that I'd seen. He reached in and brought something up. It looked like a mason jar, the kind that little old ladies put their homemade jam in. It was turned towards his body as he lifted it out, but as his stance straightened and he loomed over me, he turned the jar in my direction.

There was a pair of eyeballs floating in an amber-colored liquid. They both pointed in my direction, as if seeing me. I screamed. The sound was something that I had never heard come out of my body before. It was hollow and hopeless. It twisted around my vocal chords and died in my mouth. It was a scream of death. It was a scream of someone who knows they're about to die.

He crouched down and placed the jar near my head. I pushed at the ground, pushed my body as far away from it as I could. The blood around my face and nose had mingled with my tears and was leaving a red dribble trail on the concrete ground. I pushed and pushed, not making much distance. Knowing that I would never make much distance from this.

"You're getting it now, aren't you, Dawn?" He stood back up and picked up the chair that was laying on its side. It had stayed intact even after I'd pounded him with it. He set it upright and sat down in it.

"You're not going anywhere. You can be as tough as you want to be, but you're going to end up here  just like Katie. She's been awful lonely all alone here. I thought you two would get along. You were both fighters. She put up a little fight. Not as much as you did, though. But the only one other than you who did. The others just died. They weren't smart enough to see any of it coming. But you two did. I think if Katie was a little older like you, she might have gotten in a couple of good licks too."

He dabbed at his forehead. It had a small streak of blood that was drying, most likely from the headbutt that I'd delivered earlier. There was a bump rising. He was going to have a hell of a headache. Fucking stupid of me to be thinking about his headache when he was going to slice and dice me up.

The hatch was leaning open still and I let my gaze go to it. He picked up on it, watching me looking at the open hole. "You want to say hi? Gee, I didn't think you would be in such a big hurry to get to it, but alrighty." He took a fistful of my hair in his hand and tugged, sliding my body across the smooth concrete. He let go when my head was at the opening, letting my neck drop and rest against the edge.

Inside was a set of mangled bones and withered flesh. The skin was pulled tightly across the skeleton, waxy in appearance. It was clear that he had cut the eyes out of the head when the body was still fresh because the wounds around the eye sockets had long since healed. The legs were pulled up under the chin and the arms were wrapped around the torso in a hug. Half of the skull was crushed in, mainly towards the back of the head. There were still thin hairs in the skin on the scalp. They looked like fine strands of cotton candy, only brown and dirty.

I couldn't yell out. I couldn't scream. I just looked at that body and wept. My tears fell down into the cavernous opening and splashed against what were once the arms of a healthy young girl. Who knew how long she'd been down here for. How long he'd been up to this. The only thing I was aware of was that this had to have been his first. It was the reason why she was so close to home. She was his trophy. His prize.

"I would have just put you down in there earlier, but I was afraid your fat ass wouldn't fit," I could hear his voice above me now. He was standing over me, looking in at the corpse along with me. The tone of his voice was somewhat dreamy.

Well, thank god for small miracles, I thought. Or in this case, Krispy Kreme. I spat out a half laugh, one sounding neither funny nor amused. It was the kind of laugh a person makes when they're going mad. Looking into that hole, at that girl, my mind was escaping me.

His hand was at the back of my head again, his fingers woven through my hair, pulling me up, making me stand. My back throbbed. My injured pussy ached. I let my body rest against his.

"She wasn't dead when I took her eyes," The scalpel had reappeared and he was waving it back and forth in front of my face. I didn't struggle. "I thought that maybe, after all that damage her head took, she HAD to be dead. But she was only passed out. She was dying, sure, but she wasn't fully dead yet. When I started hacking in there, digging and turning," he was twisting the scalpel around in the air, pantomiming what he was describing. "She whimpered. It sounded like the noise that a puppy makes. You know? Like a newborn puppy. Like her lungs were still wet and she was just learning how to breathe.

"I cut the first one out and showed it to her. It was the left one. I showed it to her right eye and you know what it did? It blinked! The fucking eye blinked! That bitch was still alive and she was looking at her own eye looking at her! Ain't that some shit?"

He laughed loudly. His voice reverberated off of the metal walls of the structure. His hard-on was back and it was pressing against my ass. As he talked about mutilating this girl as she lay dying, he was getting his fucking rocks off. I tried to lean my ass forward, off of him, but he caught on.

"What's wrong? I thought you liked the cock!" He pulled me into him. I could feel the flex of his hardness against my ass cheek. "You were always begging for it. You wanted me bad. Well, you wanted sicko boy. You didn't care that he wanted to piss all over you. You liked that sicko shit. Didn't you? I bet you miss it right now. Do you miss it, Dawn? Do you want sicko boy to come back?"

He pushed me to the floor and straddled my chest. I beat on his stomach with my bound wrists. He laughed as he caught them mid-air with one hand and then punched me in the jaw with the other. He'd dropped the scalpel, but now went to pick it up. He sawed it across my bindings. My hands freed, I fought again, wriggling under him. I looked up and saw his eyes drift into his head.

"That's right. Fight." He was grinding his hips in a small circle, almost like a woman would fuck a man in this position. I continued to wail on him as much as I could. I didn't even notice when he raised the scalpel up until he had plunged it into my shoulder.

I cried out and tried to pull at it. He'd buried it about 2 inches deep into my muscle. That arm struggled to cooperate. He'd hit something important. He twisted it before pulling it out. Blood gushed out of the wound.

I thought to argue, thought about screaming some more, but decided against it. My verbally fighting back was his pillow talk. I could already sense his growing arousal as he watched the blood pour from me. I batted at his hand as he reached forward and stuck a finger inside the hole that he'd just bored in me. He fingered the hole like a normal man would have fingered a pussy, sliding his digit in and out in an erotic rhythm.

I bit my lip and refused to cry out. Tears streamed down the sides of my face as the pain burned through my shoulder and arm. He looked down and studied my face, fucking his finger harder and faster. I bit my lip until I felt my teeth pierce through it. But I refused to cry out.

"Oh, come on, Dawn. Scream. You know you want to scream. This hurts, I know it does." His finger was moving even faster.

I shook my head. It was a tiny motion, but he caught it. "Scream you fucking bitch!" He was yelling, spit flying from his mouth and landing on my face. I shook my head again, this time with more emphasis.

"No," I growled. My voice was quiet and low, a mere rumble in my chest. "Go fuck yourself."

He thrust down with the scalpel again, piercing my other shoulder. I bit my lip harder. I was afraid I would bite off a part of it, but if that was what it took to keep me from crying out and giving him what he wanted, than so be it.

He was screaming incoherent nonsense now, raising and lowering the scalpel, plunging it through my chest and upper arms. His swing was wild. Some of the blows went deep, some were nicks before he was raising and swinging again. I clamped my lips shut and refused to make a peep. I was getting lightheaded as blood seeped out of my multiple wounds.

"Scream! Scream! Fucking scream you stupid cunt!" He stabbing me so fast that the sight of his arms was nothing but a blur in my vision. He changed from stabbing to swiping, slicing away at my breasts, criss-crossing them. My entire upper body was drenched in blood. He was covered in it. The entire room looked red to me until I realized that it was blood dripping into my eyes. I squeezed them shut for a minute and then looked back up just as he brought the scalpel towards my face.

He swung and sliced off a piece of my nose. I saw the tiny hunk of flesh as it sailed off of the blade and hit the toolshed wall with a wet slapping sound. That was enough for me. The pain was one thing. It was that little wet slapping sound that drove me over.

I gathered what was left of my strength and hit him as hard as I could in the dead center of his chest. He fell back off of me with a dull thud. I scrambled on top of him and began to wrestle for control of the scalpel. He was stronger and I was losing, my hands were far too blood soaked to be able to grip anything.

Then he did the strangest thing. He let go. He let go and I seized the moment, grabbing the knife and fumbling it about in my grip. I turned it towards him and brought it down. My swings were weak and I was barely cutting though the material of his shirt. He was laughing. A gnarled laughter was bubbling out of him. He arched his back under me and pushed his chest up towards me. I swung more, desperately trying to damage him as much as I could.

His laughter taunted me. I could hardly make out his face from all the blood that had pooled in my eyes. But I could hear him. I could hear him laughing his ass off at my attempt to fight. I didn't care. I just wanted to do what I could. I wanted to maim him, do whatever damage I could muster.

I just wanted to....

The thought stopped as I felt the barrel of the rifle against my cheekbone.

"Good night, Dawn. Say hello to Katie, will you?"

The blast took off the entire top of my head. My  body fell back into the hole with Katie's corpse, cramming in tight. He stood over it and looked down apathetically.

"Huh. I guess you do fit. Go figure."