Finding Happy Chapter 1: Asunder.

This is technically the fourth chapter due to the three prologue chapters before this, and I’d recommend reading them before jumping in.

Start at the beginning here: https://bluebeard-art.com/2017/09/13/third-degree-part-1/

I should start off by noting that this novel is about recovery, overcoming a horrible and unfair situation. There are heavy mystery, drama, and horror elements throughout. This chapters is one of the reasons I’ve waited so long to start posting “Finding Happy” sections. I really wanted to make sure I understood every bit of what I wrote, and that I did it in a way that accurately reflected this terrible thing that real people go through every day in America.

This is an extremely dark chapter that introduces one of the primary conflicts of the novel. It is uncomfortable and is intended for a mature audience. This was very hard to write as an author who cares deeply for the character they have created. It made me feel sick. I used an allegorical method here where Casey fades in and out of consciousness due to the drugs. The scenes in the dream are analogies for the hell she endures. In this regard much of the graphic nature inherent to “date-rape” is not explicitly described, but there are waking bits that can only be described as cruel. It’s a bit of an extreme contrast to the happy and hopeful tones of the first few sections, and is well within the veins of the psychological terror/horror genre.

*Trigger warning: Contains implied and actual depictions of physical and sexual abuse as well as victimization. Contains extreme and demeaning language.

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I

Asunder.

 

Casey faded in and out of a half-reality. Who’s moving me…It’s so cold–

Casey stood on her grandmother’s porch, looking out over the dead cornfield, shivering. A storm was approaching, uncanny for a Colorado winter, to see so much lightning against snow. Thinking aloud, Casey said, “I always thought that you needed rain for lightening. Snow is so dry, in comparison.”

The rug…It burns. I can’t move. Why is it so dark. Where is everyone. She tried to scream, only managing to part her fragile jaw an inch before fading into oblivion­–

Turning, she unzipped her heavy jacket, simultaneously opening the withered old door. “This place was never the same after Nana passed. Gramps stopped tending the field, too. Stopped caring. Stopped tending to the life of the farm-stead. Stopped tending to his own life. As withered as the door.”

Ugh. I’m floating…No someone’s carrying me. Casey felt a dull and winded pain as she was dropped onto a soft surface. Too dark to see–

Thunder roared as the storm converged on the farm-house from all directions. “How is that possible? It’s just a storm. A break from the bitter and dry winter-air. That’s all it was supposed to be, just something new, I didn’t ask for this!”

–Don’t touch me…no! Casey was paralyzed as the darkness was interrupted by the light of a smartphone. Whoever was there waved it back forth, as if to mock Casey’s listless form. What do you want? What did you do to me? Her eye’s silently streamed tears as the stranger began to touch her. This is a nightmare…Wake up! Casey made a small grunt in a pointless attempt to scream. The stranger laughed, stood back, and fiddled with the phone. Suddenly, he arced the phone behind his head, allowing the screen to illuminate his masked face, showcasing Casey’s vulnerability. He’s taking a selfie…

The man turned and muttered something inaudible. There are more? The man held out the phone, and a tendril from the darkness accepted it, held it up, and laughed cruelly. A few seconds later, the phones flash illuminated Casey’s pale and limp body. Please don’t film it…What did I do to deserve this…I…I can’t–

Casey ran upstairs, calling out, “Mom! Where are you!?” At the top of the stairs she hung right and crashed through the first door. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to lie! Please, mom help me! Where are you?” The room was empty, decrepitate and decomposed. Her old bed, the one she’d always slept in while visiting her grandparents was cracked, desecrated with something…something evil. The sill where her Nana would lean, reading her Mr. Toad stories. That warmth was gone, shattered, like a black mirror seeking a comfort it will never reclaim–

–The man was on top of her, his considerable weight suffocating her in silence. He sloppily kissed her lifeless lips while violating her chest with his disgusting intentions. Dead tears rolled down her chemically-frozen cheeks. Stop. Matt, where are you? I need you, Matt. He rolled off her, snickering, and said, “This will teach you to be an uppity bitch and embarrass me in front of my friends, whore.” He grabbed her still-damp track shorts and pulled them off, exposing her panties. “Man, it’s like you weren’t even trying to get Matt to fuck you! Worst. Lingerie. I’ve seen. Better fix that.” Coward. Gutless coward. I’ll kill you if I ever find out who you are. I will kill you. Callously, he tore her panties off and began to roughly finger her. Casey’s anger ignited as the sharp pain radiated from her groin to her intestine. I promise, I will kil–

Before Casey could reach the second room, the storm blew a hole in the roof. The now-red tempest solidified into a necrotic hand, fingered lesions splicing in and out of its dynamic skin. Casey backed away, consumed by anxiety, terror, and regret.

Just think of the good times. Dissociate. Focus on your friends, Mom, that time you won the science fair, anything besides this. The masked man had started to rape her, she didn’t know when or how long it had been. What she did know, is that it hurt. He panted with a disgusting vigor as he penetrated her, stole from her with each passing second, blood acting as the only lubricant. “Take it whore, this it what you get for being a cunt! That’s all you are, trash, a sperm-dumpster. Better that you learn that now. You ain’t going nowhere, you jus’ act all smart and shit. You ain’t nothing but a filthy cunt.” The man recording with the smartphone laughed at his compatriot’s cruelty. You too, I’ll find you. You think you’re strong, but you’re wea–

The hand emit a thundering wave of force, tearing Casey’s childhood home, her life, to shreds. Disparaged everything she’d been taught to believe. Consumed her purity, her freedom, her choice. With an electrical explosion, Casey was flung through the window’s glass and out near the long-dead cornfield. An icy-pain spread as her broken and shattered bones sent SOS to her brain. She tried to move, but couldn’t, and the world she knew, ended.

Daily Blog 9/7/17

*Contains graphic depictions of sexual assault and extreme violence. If this type of content is likely to offend or disturb you, for any reason, please do not continue. 

Start at the beginning: https://bluebeard-art.com/2017/08/27/daily-blog-82717/

 

Author’s notes: Definitely a more horror-oriented chapter. Hard chapter to write, felt disgusting after I did. It’s one thing to raise awareness about sexual trafficking by talking statistics, it’s another to depict the experience and give the victim a name. It’s one of those scenes you really don’t want to write, but you know you have to. It would have been easier to not include Nessa’s history, but it’s important in understanding her characterization and motivations in Act three.

X

October 30th, 2021-Nessa

                The maid had entered Nessa’s room twenty-three minutes ago, as the sharp, abrasive, fluorescents had saturated the tattered cell. Silently, the maid had bathed, dried, and dressed Nessa, preparing her for the day’s work. Nessa had laid awake too many nights pondering if the maid knew what she was preparing Nessa for each morning. Nessa had concluded, to her dismay, that the maid did know. Two major clues played into Nessa’s hypothesis. Firstly, the maid refused to speak to Nessa, secondly, she avoided eye contact. The one time they had made eye contact, the old woman’s eyes had been sad, ashamed.

None of that mattered, not anymore. Today was the day. Nessa’s first visitor would be showing up any moment and she’d be waiting for him, on her back, in her pink, silk nightgown. I’ll let him get close, and then I’ll make him pay. The room was dimly lit, the harsh fluorescents used to wake Nessa were always replaced by black lights before a customer visited her. For the ambience, probably. It was the queue for her to assume her current position. The furnishings were nothing special, a cheap IKEA wood table sat between Nessa’s bed and her washroom. The table didn’t have chairs, settings, or a lamp. What it did have were scratch marks, blood stains, and occasionally, hair. The maid usually sweeps the hair. Nessa was brought two meals each day, one around midday, and one late at night, if she was lucky.

Nessa’s muscles contracted in unison, as the door opened. An older man she’d never seen before sauntered in and looked around the room, scoffing. Too humble for his majesty? A nervous chill harassed Nessa’s already tensed muscles as his eyes rested on her. A slight smile crept up his face, as if he could somehow sense her fear. He wore a white, collared, golf shirt tucked in over his enormous beer belly. An unnecessary leather belt was straddled around his khaki shorts. That things fit to burst. His eyes were sunken and his lips chapped blood-red. His face had weak, short features, his nose was pimpled and hooked. Casually, the man pushed the door closed behind him, maintaining his malevolent gaze. Nessa jumped as she heard the lock click, trapping her in the room with the short man. Your fate is sealed, creep. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s the one who’s trapped.

The man walked to the foot of Nessa’s bed, and said, “Sweetie why don’t you sit up so I can get to know you little better.” Obliging, Nessa pulled herself forward, moving her knees under her core, and resting her hands on her thighs. His wide smile revealed crooked and yellow teeth, as he continued, “Well aren’t you cute, my names Ben, darling. What’s your name?”

“I’m Nessa, sir.” She responded, flatly. He’s disgusting.

Taken aback, he moved closer, sitting on the foot of the bed. Giving Nessa a stern, almost concerned look, “That’s a pretty name, Nessa. But I won’t have any of this sir business. I don’t take our relationship lightly, you see. I’m hoping I can steer you in the right direction, so you can mature into a beautiful woman. Think of me as your mentor, you can call me Ben, or even dad, I won’t mind, my sweet.”  I want to cut your smug neck from ear…to ear.

Nessa felt sick, but managed to keep her face blank and her tone even as she smiled, responding, “Okay, daddy, what are you going to teach me?”

Blushing, Ben, in an instructive tone, responded, “I’m going to teach you what it means to be a good woman. I’ll teach you how to please your man.” His pupils had grown enormous. “Would you like that, Nessa?” No, you sick fuck.

Leaning forward, Nessa, in her best seductive voice, whispered, “Teach me, daddy.” Ben stood, removed his ridiculously tight belt and unzipped his khaki shorts, revealing tight white underpants. Nessa moved her knees out from under her, inching backward. Come get me. As Ben struggled to get his pants down, he fell backwards onto the bed. Clown. Nessa struggled not to laugh, as he righted himself and his pants finally fell. Ominously, he crawled towards Nessa, belt still in hand. Out of nowhere, Ben’s face hardened. Sitting on his knees, he swung the belt, copper buckle first, into Nessa’s left eye. Nessa let out a small whimper, as she was thrown onto her back, recoiling from the force of the blow. The unexpected, blinding pain, sent hot tears streaming down Nessa’s cheeks. He caught me off guard…

“Your first lesson, Nessa, is to not patronize your daddy like a whore. You are not a whore! So, I better not catch you acting like one, no daughter of mine will grow up to be a whore!” Ben shouted, spittle flying, as he threw aside the belt. Again, he crawled forward, struggling to get his beer belly over Nessa’s small, fetal-oriented frame. Violently, he grabbed her shoulder and shook, trying to roll her over. “Stop crying, only whores cry. You aren’t a whore, sweetie.” As Ben successfully rolled Nessa onto her back, he shouted, “Stop crying! Bitch.” As Nessa wiped her tears, he grabbed her neck with both hands, squeezing as he rested his substantial weight on Nessa’s stomach. I can’t breathe, he’s going to smother me. “Stop, crying!” He screamed. His penis was erect against his tight underwear, pushing against her.

Choking, Nessa rasped, “Stop…you freak.” As he started to grind his lower half against her exposed stomach, his grip tightened. I need my knife…He’s going to kill me… His eyes were almost fully dilated and spittle slowly dripped from his disgusting mouth. Nessa frantically reached behind her, feeling for the two pillows her knife rested between. Can’t…reach! As Nessa’s vision started to blacken, he released his grip before leaning back and taking his weight off Nessa’s abdomen. He’s not done with me…still have a chance. As he started to struggle out of his underpants, Nessa slowly inched backwards, placating, “I’m sorry for disappointing you, Daddy.”

Ben glanced at her for a second, an appraising look shadowed his ugly face, before responding, “I accept your apology, darling. I’m sorry I had to punish you, but I care about my daughter. I don’t want her to act improperly, I don’t want her to become a lecherous cunt like her mother was.” Fuck you. Nessa found the two pillows and grasped the small knife as Ben finished removing his underpants. “I think I was too hard on you, Nessa, I think I need to reward you.”

“I’d love that, daddy” responded Nessa, feigning sincerity as she tucked the hook-knife against the small of her back.

Ben grabbed Nessa’s knees, forcing her legs apart, and tearing off her silk panties. No…don’t you touch me! Nessa bit back her panic, steeling herself as Ben entered her. Groaning, he started to thrust in and out. After a few seconds, he fell forward, hooking his arms behind Nessa’s shoulders, letting his obscene weight center on Nessa’s chest. He’s suffocating me, I need to act now!

As Ben continued to flounder, his eyes closed and his spittle splashed everywhere. Enraged, Nessa bit his neck as hard as she could, immediately tasting blood. Ben’s eyes shot open, screaming in agony as Nessa bit deeper. Trying to pull away, Ben removed enough weight for Nessa to get the knife out from behind her. Before he could pull away from her bite, she plunged the hook-knife into the side of his gut, before twisting it. Pig…I hope you suffer.

Ben struggled free of Nessa’s bite, freeing his left arm, “You, Whore!” He shouted, punching her in the nose, hard. “I try to teach you how to be a woman, and this how you fucking treat me?” He punched again. Dazed, Nessa put every ounce of her fast-dwindling vigor into pulling out the hook-shaped shiv. Ben fell, screaming, to Nessa’s right as the hook fished out part of his large intestine. Teeth bared, Nessa pulled the hook to her chest, and rolled left. Guards will be coming soon, but I’ll make you hurt before they do! Ben’s screams intensified as Nessa rolled off her bed, violently jerking the eviscerated intestine with her. She hit the ground hard, but felt nothing as the endorphins and adrenaline numbed her senses. A loud siren started to go off. As Nessa pushed herself to her feet, she noticed Ben’s intestine, which had wrapped around her chest twice. Quickly unwrapping herself, she glanced to the door. Still no guards?

Nessa smiled, as she looked to Ben, writhing in agony, crying profusely as his liquid vitality stained her sheets. Serves the sick fuck right. Feeling a burst of rage, Nessa shouted, “Hey Ben! Stop crying, you don’t want to be a whore, do you?” Grinning, Nessa picked up the hook-knife, and started to pull. “How about…I make you…my bitch?” Ben’s intestine, offering resistance, started to pull him across the bed as Nessa played tug of war.

Laughing cruelly, Nessa pulled the hook-knife out of his intestine, and walked towards his writhing body, which had shifted to the edge of the bed. If the guards aren’t going to save him, I’m going to make him pay. His screaming had stopped and his face had assumed a ghostly-pallor. Nessa climbed on top of Ben’s stomach, straddling her legs around his beer belly, back facing Ben’s head. Manically, Nessa said, “I hope you like reverse cow-girl, daddy.” The alarm was still ringing in a shrill monotone, surely it would deafen any further screams. Sadistically, she shoved the hook-knife into Ben’s exposed, and shriveled scrotal region. As he let out his loudest scream yet, waves of pleasure shot down Nessa’s back. With a wide and toothy grin, Nessa twisted the hook, and pulled up.   

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Thanks for reading!

Next chapter: https://bluebeard-art.com/2017/09/09/daily-blog-9817/