Bloody Knuckles

You have no idea what you’ve unleashed.

I have an idea.

That’s right, you had an idea, but this reality is far worse than anything you could’ve imagined.

What the hell are you talking about?

That’s right…I mean, sit down.  I’m going to show you.  Now it’s your turn to be tormented.

While my master was napping upstairs, I placed two folding chairs facing each other on either side of the wood support beam in the middle of the cabin’s living room.  At the base of the beam in front of each chair, I lit a tall, red candle.

I then turned out all the lights, leaving the cabin dark save for the two twitching flames straddling the pillar.  I could tell my master’s eyes were slow to adjust, but mine were made for this.  My pupils widened to full circles, not only to accommodate for the dark, but as a result of my excitement.

It was his turn alright, but it was also mine; my turn to show him exactly what he created.

He sat in his chair as ordered, adjusting his flannel pajama pants as he tried to get comfortable on the cold, vinyl seat.  He rested his short-sleeved elbows on his knees and stared at the pillar, the candle washing his nervous face in an eerie glow.  Then he looked down at me.

What are you up to, Patton, some kind of seance?  Are you going to show me visions of the horrors I’ve ‘unleashed’?

Oh no, master, the horrors you’re about to experience will be very real, and very necessary.

I leapt up on my chair, my limp tail falling through the opening in the back.  I’ll get that fixed later.  I stared at him through the beam.  Yes, through the beam.  No, I can’t see through solid objects, dumbass, but I can bend my vision around corners.  With one eye on each of the pillar’s edges, it disappeared, and I saw my victim unobstructed.

What, thee fuck, are you talking about? The master thought, and started to get up.

Sit down!  Hsss!  I spat back, and swiped at the pillar, taking a large, splintered chunk out of it with my steel claws.

His fat ass slammed back to the seat with a pathetic thud, and his stare returned to the beam.  His world became black, except for the candle, and the beam it illuminated, and me, hiding on the other side.

There’s a pair of leather work gloves under your chair.  Put them on.

At this point, he stopped formulating questions in his mind, though I could feel his confusion.  He reached down under his chair, grabbed the gloves, and put them on without hesitation.  He just wanted to get whatever I had planned for him over with as quickly as possible.  I wasn’t going to make it that easy.  I needed to play.

 

Sorry to bother you with this raw, random little fragment of a story, but when the mood strikes…  By the way, this counts towards my HămBōCrăMō word count.  Yes it does!

Anyway, to be continued.  Blah, blah, blah.

Until next time, don’t bother me.  I’m scratching out a book.

bikini-girl-dancing-gets-pushed-out-of-the-way

About the author

The universe planted many ideas in my mind. I pass them off as my own, but know they're stolen. My ideas gain traction, grow, and consume me. I become my ideas. The universe implants the idea of me in my brain. I am stolen.

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