Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Silence ❯ Chapter 2

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

It was completely out of his hands now. The feast had begun. He saw the woman’s mouth open in a scream soundless to his ears and the boy’s eyes wide with horror and his mother’s blood ran from the thin line the knife was tracing down the middle of her body. He felt himself move forward and downward and tastes a warm liquid on his tongue.

His fingers were fumbling with something. He didn’t know what but he had to get it off. It was in the way. Yes, now it was gone and he was free. His hand grasped the hard cylinder of flesh and stroked it roughly.

The woman was starring at it. He loved this part. He could see the panic so clearly. What was it about the thought of being raped that drove women into such hysterics. He could almost see her trying to think of a way out. Of course they both knew there was none, except death, and he was the wielder of that weapon now.

He stood over her, still stroking and tugging, taking in all the stench of fear and perspiration in the air. The rush was indescribable. A shudder ran through his body and he saw the gooey liquid splash into the woman’s face. She squirmed but what else could she do? A few drops ricocheted and fell on her son.

“Don’t act like you’ve never felt that before, bitch. You enjoy this as much as I do.”

Though he knew the words came from his mouth the voice was foreign and a pang of fear hit him. Was there going to be a time when he was the voice in the back of his own head?

While he was occupied with these thoughts, the boy pants were being undone and pulled down to his ankles. His thighs were muscular, probably a swimmer. They were filmed in sweat too. Camarcie’s mouth was clasped over the boy’s genitals, sucking in a rhythmic fluid motion. The boy’s fear was dominated by his shock and somewhere buried in a shallow grave of repulsion was the pleasure. He could sense it and it angered him and excited his body.

What a feeling it was! Camarcie tried not to indulge but it was not his choice to make. He was already there and already revelling in the sickening acts he was being made to commit. He felt guilt, stronger than ever before but at least the voices were satisfied. He felt a warm liquid hit the back on his throat and he swallowed it quickly and licked his lips.

His eyes turned to the boy’s face and he could feel the hatred burning in his own eyes as he glared at the boy that had never done him any harm. But that was the point wasn’t it? If he did it to the people who deserved it, it would be nothing more than revenge. And revenge was far beneath him now. That was what they told him: that revenge was bad. But this, this was raw and pure and so right. Everything was being made right. But something deep inside denied the truth that was offered in this reasoning.

The turmoil within his was becoming unbearable. He didn’t want to do this anymore. It felt wrong. It had to be wrong. What about what he was always taught about God?
No you fool! What are you doing? Your task is not yet complete. Do it now! He lost his sight again and he could see nothing but blackness and every now and again he thought he got glances of tongues of flames licking about his body. He was half-aware of his body moving and words being spoken but it was nothing he was consciously doing or trying to do.

He wanted peace. All he wanted to do was let go and everything around him encouraged him to do so. He was tired of the voices. They had taken over everything in his life. He had no life anymore, just urges and desires, nothing more. They were already in control of his body why not leave them to it and go on the other level or death or whatever was there to greet him on the other side of this hell.

Slowly he began to release himself to give over completely to the forces that held him captive in his own body. For the first time in an eternity it seemed he was free. No screaming, no shouting, no voices. He could not remember a time when he was more relaxed or calm. He was not happy but this could certainly be a consolation.

Suddenly there was a shattering silence. It had been quiet before but this was heavy. It seemed to cling to him and make him sweat though he was not aware of his body. The darkness shattering into a million pieces and there was a blinding light. He squinted. It faded slowly and then a caught an image he though somehow was familiar. There was a woman and a boy with his face between her legs. They were both naked. Why was he seeing this?

Then it hit him! He had done it. This was the mother and the son. He looked behind him and a saw a man, the father, in the corner. He had stopped struggling to free himself. He was now sitting his eyes glued to the sense before him, his expression blank. He wrung his hands listlessly and his mouth moved forming uninterpretable mumbles and murmurs.

He had had too much. That much was evident. A thin sliver of spit hung from his mouth.

Looking down at himself Camarcie realized that not only was he seeing this scene and causing it but he was also a part of it. He was behind the boy who was on his hands and knees with his legs apart. Camarcie jumped and he slipped out of the boy. He staggered to his feet holding his head and shaking it. He backed away from the boy and his mother who were looking at him with identical expressions of fear, shock and horror.

Not having the ability to look at the two any longer, he turned and ran from the house. He ran as fast as his weak quivering legs would agree to go and he stumbled a few times. As he ran he heard a cry from the house behind him. A sharp pang of guilt stabbed him in the chest as he continued to put distance between himself and what he had done. Then they came back.

What are you doing you fool? Go back! Go back now!

“No, no, no!” he screamed at the higher volume he could muster. “I won’t. I’ve done enough. You are never satisfied!”

You never satisfy us! Do as we say and you will have peace.

Ignoring them he ran down a road that led to the sea. There was a small jetty and he ran up to it and stooped abruptly before stepping unto it, panting hard and shaking his head to clear it. There were unintelligible sounds and screamed in his head and he wanted to silence them forever.

He pulled the blade he had used on the family from his pocket and looked at it for a moment gathering his resolve. He took it into his right hands and poised it over his left wrist then brought it down in a swift clean slash making a deep gash in his flesh. He watched as the crimson liquid flowed in pulses and fought the urge to take a drink of it. The blood dripped into the soft sand and ran down and dripped from his elbow.

You fool! You fool!! Why are you doing this?

Camarcie said and thought nothing. He simply waited and watched. Then before his eyes he was horrified to see he skin slowly healing, closing the wound
“No, I won’t be this way. I can’t do it anymore!!”

Holding the knife in his good hand, he held it away from his body and then with every once of strength under his control in his body, he rammed the blade into his gut and pulled it out again. He did this several more times not knowing where the will came from. Then bringing the blade to his neck, he wiped the edge across his throat, then fell to the ground totally spent.

He lay there pouring out his blood from innumerable punctures. Slowly the screaming in his head faded until he could hear it not more and for at last, after so long, after so many sacrifices, there was silence.