Pretear Fan Fiction ❯ Manhunt: Blood Work ❯ Footage From The Past ( Chapter 4 )

Chapter Four- Footage From the Past

(5:45pm)

He ran... Ran faster than he ever ran in his whole fucking life. It was just turning dark in this god-forsaken city. Running from this nightmare. They were insane. So insane he thought it was rubbing off on himself... Thomas Smith had never been more frightened in his whole damn life. He heard their deranged-at-best screams, and forever dreaded becoming a cop to begin with.

He heard the gunshot, and saw the dirt to his right explode into the air. He pissed himself, and ran faster. A corner! He whirled around it, and spied a door. He quickly slammed into the heavy thing, using all of his weight.

He crashed against it, but it didn't open. There was pain, but it refused to budge.

Smiley #1: "BARRY! Get your ass back here! We need to talk!"

The voices were quickly drawing closer, and if he didn't hurry he would die. He crashed against it a second time. Nothing. He did it a third time, and it crashed open. He stumbled inside, and ran down the hall. He heard them turning the corner outside as he ran up the stairs.

Smiley #2: "GIVE ME BACK MY FUCKING SHOES! I WANT MY FUCKING SHOES!"

Smiley #3: "SQUIBBLY RIBBLY GRIBLY BIBBLY FIBBLY GRIBBLY RIBBLY BEAR!"

He was at the halfway mark, and sped up the rest of the way. He hurled his weight against the wall near the stairs, so anyone running up them couldn't see him. Luckily he was in the shadows...

Smiley #1: YOU WERE MESSING AROUND WITH THAT WHORE AGAIN?! WEREN'T YOU?! That's it! I've had it! I'm moving back to Mom's!

From what it sounded, there were only 3 of them...Not good, but it could be worse...He had to take them out...His grip tightened on his blackjack.

Smiley #2: "Wait! Look! You see! I know where you went! YOU WANNA KNOW WHY?! YOUR FOOTPRINTS! THEY ARE THE FOOTPRINTS OF MY MOTHER FUCKING SHOES!"

He had to do it... It was his only chance. He perked up as one came dashing up the stairs, and then struck like a viper.

As the gang member attempted to run through the doorway from the stairs, Tom extended his arm out in a quick manner, hitting the Smiley right in the neck. The decorated man stumbled back a bit, and fell down the stairs. Perfect clothesline move.

And he felt the cold stab of pain in his gut before he heard the gunshot. He stumbled into the doorway, and fell down the stairs, landing ontop of the dead body. His breathing became shallow, and blood seeped past his own hands, which currently covered his gut's new entrance wound. Blood slowly came up out of his mouth as he tried to speak. He looked up the stairs, and saw one of them with a .38 Revolver... He was careless, and didn't see him in time... Damnit!

He looked to his right, and saw the other two walking towards him. Like all Smileys, they wore yellow Smiley face masks. Some of them had things written on them in blood. In this case, one of them had "Please Stop Me" scrawled across the visage. The one standing next to him was in a pink, Sunday dress. He looked back up the stairs, and saw the Smiley there holster his .38, and draw a meat-cleaver. Slowly began to walk down the stairs then, approaching at an excruciatingly tension-building pace. He looked back to his right flank, and the other two cheery-looking gentlemen followed suit.

Smiley #1: "Kids, go upstairs and don't you dare come down! Your FATHER and I need to have a little talk!"

He began to think of his family. His little girl would be turning 7 in a few weeks, and he promised to get her some new dollies to play with...

Smiley #2: "Your gonna pay for taking my fucking shoes!"

Next was his beautiful wife, Clara... He thought of the first day they met, the day they were wed, and the day they had their daughter... She was such a loving wife...

Smiley #4: "Fug gonna have fun! FUG FUG, FUN FUN!"

And as they grew nearer, he heard screaming... It was his own...

(7:08pm)

He saw them walking along in the junkyard... They were the Skinz. Two of them had metal baseball bats, and another had a nail gun... They were patrolling the area, and the situation was `now or never'.

Christopher Wilson was busted several times for dealing, and right now he was on probation... He was offered a job by some guy to star in some movies, which would help pay for a shipment of heroin which would be coming in soon... He didn't know it was gonna be like this, though...

One of them passed his hiding spot... One with a bat. It was really dark in this area, so he attacked.

He lifted the metal wire up and over the man's head, and pulled back, strangling him. He could hear the bloody gasps coming from his victim, and he didn't care. The man's back collapsed as he tried to grab the wire and break free, and soon blood was pouring down his throat.

Wilson was not that tall, only 5'8", but he managed to bring this 6'3" behemoth to his knees. He then placed his knee on this freaks mid-back, and began to pull back in a sawing motion. The victim stopped gasping, but he kept pulling back. After about five solid jerks, the head was completely severed from the body.

He lifted the head, and looked into its dead eyes. He couldn't see the rest of its face due to the hockey mask covering it. He picked up the bat, and then crept along the shadows...

Another was mere feet away... He came up with a plan in seconds. He tossed the head gently over into a corner, which left this next victim's back facing him. The cock-knocker heard it, and walked into the corner. He gasped, but that is all he could do.

Within a fraction of a second and a burst of adrenaline, Wilson was on him. He smacked him in the back of the head, and the man turned around. It was then a smack to the face. The gang member fell down to the floor, dead.

Christopher: "Good... One more left in this area...Then I can rest..."

He crept along the shadows... But he couldn't see his adversary anywhere...

Skin # 1: "THERE! THERE'S THAT FILTHY HALF-BREED!"

Shit, he was spotted. He did the only thing he could do... Well, run.

It would be suicide to take them all on, especially when they might have nail guns. So he just ran.

Skin #3: "LOOK AT HIM RUN! IT SHOWS HE'S AN INFERIOR RACE!"

Skin #1: "ARYAN SONS! WE HAVE FOUND HIM! HELP YOUR BROTHERS!"

Skin # 2: "AS I WALKED THROUGH THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH!"

Christopher: "Shit! Fuck! Shitfuck!"

He ran, darting in and out of the junk lying around. Cars, tires, bottles, trash. Anything and everything.

He spotted a crane, and ran for it. He darted underneath it, hiding in the shadows. Seconds latter, the trio of Skinz came out from where he came from.

Skin #1: "What the?! Where the fuck did he go?!"

Skin #2: "You can't hide from the wrath of God, demon!"

Skin #3: "You see that?! He's hiding! That's where he came from! Hiding under a fucking rock, and that's where he crawled back to!"

Skin #1: "Yeah! Yellow bastard!"

Skin# 3: "Fucking inferior races, man! They always hide from the justice they deserve! White is right!"

They all agree in unison, and walk off. He sat there, underneath the crain with his heart beating with such force, it could rip from his chest if it wanted to. He waited about a half an hour, and then crawled out from under the crane.

And he felt cold steel against the back of his skull as he crawled out. He fell on the floor.

Skin #4: "Got ya you fucking sonovabitch! GUYS! I FOUND HIM!"

He felt more pain. Over and over again. He was beating him with his bat. He felt his bones break, and his blood spray. He yelped in pain, and screamed. Begging for them to stop. The others arrived, and joined in.

Skin # 1: "Quit your sniveling!"

And then there was no more thought as a cold alloy bat slammed into Wilson's skull, splattering brain and shards of bone everywhere. His last thought was of heroin...

They continued beating him for some time, but then stopped when they decided it was enough. By then though, there was no way in hell to identify the corpse.

(9:21pm)

She couldn't believe this was happening... It seemed so fucking odd! But it didn't matter, she had McReinheart back in custody, and would escape from this hell with him and drag his ass back to prison... If they could get out of this fucking shopping mall.

Jon: "Y'know hun, you sure got a pretty fine ass considering you're an officer of the law. Ten-twenty four in the mall, we got an ass that needs to be set free. Callin' for immediate back-that-ass-up."

Karen: "Shut the fuck up!" she hissed, "Do you wanna have them find us?!"

Jon: "Well sure, sugarpants. Beats the shit out of waiting around like this." A sly half-grin crept across his face, "'Less of course, you wanna get down, work-it a bit with myself."

They've been in this empty bar for the past hour. She managed to acquire a handgun, which was very good. Very good indeed.

Jon: "Babe, if I was hunting you down, I'd rape you. I'd rape you viciously, using my knife to slowly cut you as I did so." Eying her steadfast grip on the firearm as he spoke, but of course.

Karen: "But you're not hunting me... Are you?"

Jon: "Aww, ain't that cute. It's like a five-year old asking what I did to mommy, and why the walls are painted so badly." A pause. "But once I'm through with the little one, who will ask about that? Couldn't fit into a baby, not like they can talk anyways..." His train of thought returned to motion, eyes snapping back to two of the police force's greatest assets. "Hm- oh, right. You gotta pay attention, shug. I said `IF', key word there."

And during all this, she had to deal with this shit... But let's see... What the fuck DID happen, exactly?

It was November 24th, and it was pretty late... So it probably was early morning on today... But the fucking date isn't important, what is important is what happened.

Tom was driving, and I was dozing. McReinheart was quiet all the way...And then we got a flat...Tom got out, and he was instantly swamped with men who had assault rifles. They forced us out of the van, and took McReinheart out as well... One then shot us, but it seems that it was a tranquilizer dart and nothing lethal.

Next thing she knew, she was in some room and some man was giving her orders through an intercom, telling her how she was an actress in his "movie". Snuff films... Jesus fucking fuck, if she got out of there she would SO bust this guy...

But she doesn't even know who he is? `How can I bust him if I don't know who the fuck he is', she thought silently. It'd been about two hours since she last heard from the guy... Right around when she found McReinheart.

He had a relatively small knife, and was simply defiling a corpse with it. Forcefully dragging the edge gradually across any part of its flesh... She then raised the firearm, and took him into custody. After about an hour, they stumbled across this mall...

And she heard the footsteps... Slow footsteps walking on the pathway...They sometimes came by, glancing in here, but not fully going in here... Bad move, amigo…

This man... He was fat, and wore a green Hawaiian-type shirt. He also had a baby face mask on, which was really creepy- But that wasn't the worst... No, It had to be the way he talked which was the worst...

Innocentz #1: "Its alright honey... Daddy would never hurt his special little girl... You can come out... I'd never do anything to harm yo- COME HERE YA LITTLE SHIT!"

She shuddered at this, along with almost anything else he said. He passed, and was gone about three minutes later.

Jon: "Come on, officer... Just one fuck. You're gonna bring me back to prison, where the only folks to fuck are guys named `Bubba', or perhaps we might even die here..." His voice became cheerful with the thought, "Besides, fucking is a great way to relive tension. Good exercise, too. Hup-hup, let's go."

Karen: "And you have done what exactly to the other women you had sex with? Fuck yourself." She recalled the files. It was on pure accident, being as she never wanted to recall them again.

Jon: "Ma'am, don't get me wrong, I love to. But I need some work-it stew, got to acquire this warm wetness of yours and make it my own. Know what I'm saying?"

Karen: "Well, you can just forget it."

Jon: "Brrr!" Game show buzzer sound, "Wrong answer! And I thought I was growing fond of you, officer."

With what seemed like inhuman speed, his right arm coiled back and sent itself flying forth again- fist spearheading the brisk movement, of course. Made a pleasant `whump' sound as it bridged the gap between his knuckles, and her gut. She fell over, onto her back, and the gun slid across the floor. He stood up, and kicked her in the ribs with the only compassion showing being that which he harbored for violence. Obviously cracking one... She yelped in pain, and he grabbed the gun and holstered it within one of his previously-worthless pockets. Without delay the young man reached down, knife drawn by this point and extended towards the lass's throat. One could almost hear it pulsating with alarmed life flowing through her veins by this point- a sound which he always thought reminiscent of creaking bed-springs.

Jon: "Don't worry, after a while you'll asphyxiate on vomit- if you get lucky. By the way, did I mention I like to deepthroat?"

Karen: "Fuck you!"

Jon: "Ah, you know your orders well."

Trailing his tongue slowly across the woman's face by now, up the left cheek to lap up a single salty tear. He flicked it back into his mouth, half-grinned, and went on to effortlessly lop her undershirt asunder. It went quite quickly, a typical routine to him. Mm-mm. Only thing keeping him from that pert rack now was a bra, and that could be easily-

Innocentz #1: " I HEARD YOU! I SWEAR TO GOD I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"

Innocentz #2: "Esse, I can smell your white ass miles away!"

Jon paused, looked up, and smiled.

Jon: "Hmm... I'll get back to you on this, yes?"

And with that, he darted his tongue into her mouth for a quick kiss, and sprinted off into the back room and out the window. Short, light red hair flashing in the moonlight for just a second as he did so. Karen bolted upwards, and tried to follow him, but something caught her by the hair, and she hit the ground. Hard. When she opened her eyes, four men were standing above her. Two with guns, and two with knives.

Innocentz #2: "This chica es real white, homes."

Innocentz #1: "Daddy found you, sweetie. Now it's alright, just come here and- RAPE, RAPE, RAPETTY RAPE!" Bursting into literally hysterical laughter upon this change of tone.

The other two remained silent, but proceeded to drop their weapons just out of the hapless lady's reach. Of course, the weapons weren't the only things they dropped. Pants, elbows, and kneecaps also fell down onto the girl- the latter two with far more force than she'd ever cared to notice. The woman simply found herself curling into a ball, and closing her eyes as she waited for death. Quickly flipped onto her back, Karen's legs were forced open- and not coincidentally at the exact same time she heard the familiar `shink' of a blade being unsheathed.

Innocentz #4: "A'ight homes, we goin' in for surgery! Gotta cut her open and save the `tang!"

Innocentz #3: "Urr-hooo! Urrhuurrr! Go to hospitable! Weee-oooo, weeeee-oooo!" A voice that seemed to sum up all aspects of mental retardation gone awry.

Valuable lessons were learned by all parties that day indeed. Karen learned never to drop her guard, but sadly could make no practical use of this knowledge. The Innocentz, meanwhile, had an eye-opening view of erotic brutality that day. After each took his respective term, the woman was deemed no longer fit for occupation by any of them. The blood was a lovely effect, but all that wretched stickiness around it made things less-than-habitable.

Five minutes later, Starkweather now saw that it was physically possible to ram a severed leg up to the kneecap into any feminine orifice that had been properly prepared. Good to know.

(Next- Chaingang)