She Has A Pretty Face Though (Part XXIII)

Disclaimer

The following is one of many installments for a story designed specifically for my blog.  While it does step out of my usual genre, there are some things still not suitable for a younger audience.  Violent/Graphic descriptions, strong language and sexual situations may be found through different sections.  Each entry will tell a small portion of the story during different times and may not directly follow the one prior to it.  

This story follows the direct interactions, as well as the deteriorating thoughts of a young man who is struggling not only with the relationships he has with those around him, but with the relationship he has with himself as well.

Finally, all work is strictly fiction and does not reflect the views of the author.  Any resemblance to actual person(s) is only a coincidence.

If this isn’t your cup of tea, then avoid these excerpts and hopefully I’ll see you around my other posts and webseries!

———

“Oh my God,” he screamed.  “What have I done?”

The kitchen had suddenly become filled with a cacophony of high pitched screams, so loud that his ears rang.  The sound emanated from just inches before him, at his feet, from the terrified dog now trapped between the bottom of the door and the floor.  Her hind legs had been broken in no less than two places.  When the door had sucked them out from under her, there had been several miniature explosions as the bones shattered.

The madman in his mind had retreated, for now, and he was left alone to share the terror that she was experiencing.  

“Ohgodohgodohgodpleasebequiet,” he machine gunned out.  The words flew over his lips, a futile prayer for the horrible action he had just committed.  There was going to be no answer from above, nor was there going to be one from within either.  He was alone and he was going to pay for what he had done.

“Shut up, goddamn you, I need to think,” he shouted.

The sound of his voice only spurred the poor creature on, however, as she began jerking her upper body into pantomime sit-ups.  He looked on in horror as blood began to pool out from the injury in her right leg, mixing with the original reason for her pawing at the door in the first place.  His nose burned from the smell, and his stomach lurched.

From somewhere outside, he could hear someone calling in the distance;

“Hello?”  and  “It sounds like someone’s killing her!” wafted into his range of hearing.  His heart jumped into his throat, a portal which had only moments ago threatened to become the emergency exit from his stomach, and he dropped to his knees before her.  Tippy snarled, nipping madly as he moved his hands closer, and was silenced when he closed them around her muzzle.  

“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed as he clamped down tighter, restricting her airway, “there’s no other way!”

Her eyes began to bulge as she realized what he was doing, and her struggles increased as she fought against him.  Another stream of urine shot out from…

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden blow to the back of his head.

“I SAID,” Lucy said with emphasis, “PLEASE get me a drink from the KITCHEN!”  She paused, taking a deep breath and glaring at him beneath her furrowed brow.  “You’re going to learn something about me, Scott.  I don’t like to repeat myself.  And, if you want to keep getting ‘it’, then you are going to have to get the hang of things around here.”

Resigned, he jumped up and walked quickly to her kitchen.

It was going to be a long night.

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