Chapter Eight

VIII

October 30th, 2021

                Nessa laughed, excitedly, as a tall, blonde woman tickled her belly and under-arms. “St..stop!” Nessa exclaimed.

Pausing momentarily, the women raised her eyebrows, asking “I suppose that depends on what you’re going to do if I don’t? I mean, will I still get some cake?”

Quickly, Nessa shouted “No cake for you! It’s my choco, all of it’s mine!”

“Well, if I don’t get cake either way, I guess I’ll have to take it from you by force” responded the women, as she started to tickle Nessa even more aggressively. Screaming, Nessa rolled forward, crawling between the women’s legs, making a break for the cake. As Nessa ran, she looked over her left shoulder to see if the women had followed. Nessa’s smile faded, the women was gone. Slowing to a stop, Nessa turned, calling out “Nanah! Where’d you go?”

The room grew darker, as a loud siren began blaring. The comforting wooden floor of her childhood home morphed into a stony, obsidian colored, surface. A sinister looking voice called from her left “The rougher kids are waiting.” The walls broke with a crash, the siren grew louder, and a hand, thrice Nessa’s size, crawled into the room from behind the broken wall to her left. Its movements were foreign, unpredictable, almost spiderlike. Nessa turned to run, screaming, except no air broke her lips. She was trapped, suffocating, alone. The walls closed in around her as the thing moved towards her. The hand was green, with bloody scales lining the fingers, acting as inhuman joints. It twitched, convulsing, preparing to kill its prey, as the siren grew deafening. Then; darkness.

Nessa woke to the alarm with a start, breathing fast. She’d soaked her beddings in sweat again. Rolling to her left, she slammed the off switch with the bottom of her fist. Time to get to work. The room was dark, illuminated slightly by the blue Digitex on her night-sill that read 5:12 AM. She had a little under an hour before the rooms lights would be activated.

She’d grown accustom to moving both quietly, and effectively in the dark. If she made too much noise, she’d be punished. She’d learned this lesson the hard way, accidentally knocking her teapot off the center table one morning. She knew the relative location of all the objects in the room by heart now, however. Sweeping aside the wet bed sheets, she swung her legs off the bed, getting up. They’d been mad, but Nessa knew if she was caught again, the punishment would significantly more severe. If they find it, they’ll kill me, or worse. They’d come close, beating her within an inch of life, and for much less than a weapon.

Moving around the twin-sized bed to its foot, she kneeled, lifting the mattress. She grabbed the serrated chunk of metal she’d been working into a hook. Fashioned with care, from a large iron bolt she’d painstakingly wiggled free from the back of her night stand. Nessa felt the makeshift knives edges and grooves. The outside curve of the hook needed to be sharp enough to stab into a man’s abdomen. Then, all you had to do was twist until the inner hook dug into the surrounding tissue and pull. It’s almost done.

Standing, Nessa carefully tiptoed to her right. Five more steps. Blind, Nessa reached her left hand out, feeling for the small round table as she slowly moved forward. Upon feeling the tables familiar texture, Nessa crouched, crawling under the table. Reaching out, she felt the table-stand, slowly moving her hand down its length. Upon feeling the damaged metal brace, Nessa started to sharpen the outer hook, making sure to keep the blade even. It’s my turn to punish them.

Nessa fully understood that by using the blade on a customer, she’d be killed. But she was ready to die, if it meant saving another woman from one of the sick and twisted men who frequented her bedroom.

 

Next Chapter: https://bluebeard-art.com/chapter-nine/

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