Horror Riser.com

A New Toy

James Patrick Riser

A groan escaped her lips as she thrust the fingers deep inside her. The vaginal juices flowed over the hand in abundance. She spread her legs, scattering blood and brain matter over the filthy bathroom floor. She continued the masturbation.
Mary lifted the fingers to her mouth and licked the cold digits clean of the crimson coating, then returned it to her snatch. As the chilled flesh touched her warm labial lips, again, a shiver shot up through her spine.
Terry Lars did not care that Mary used her hand to get off since, unlike a few hours ago, her body lay nude, cold, and dead. Mary didn't care either. Terry Lars was a worthless cum-bucket, she thought.
She spread her legs wider; and pushed Terry's hand in her up to the wrist. With her free hand, Mary licked a skull fragment clean. An orgy of experiences rushed through her body. Feelings of passion and excitement got her closer to orgasm, while feelings of disgust encouraged bile to burn the back of her throat.
The bathroom's lights flickered, throwing them into darkness for seconds at a time. In one moment of light Mary regarded Terry's bulging stomach, an unborn child, with a shrill laugh.
She Dropped the piece of bone and proceeded to stroke Terry's stomach. She giggled again. A white, button up dress shirt, with one pocket above the breast, clung to her upper body. She produced a hallow ground razor blade from the pocket and brought it to Terry's stomach.

***

Samuel Lars finished his tenth cigarette. An ashtray sat in front of him full of butts and a heart in his chest was full of worry. He snuffed out the cigarette. Smoke danced in the dimly lit room as a persistent ember from the butt refused to die. Samuel's eyes followed the trailing smoke until they settled on the telephone in front of him.
Terry didn't come home the night before, last night or tonight, and he waited for her call. He kept his twitching hand close to the receiver, not only waiting for news of her, but also his child. The leather office chair squeaked when Samuel leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling scarcely seen in the darkness.
She said that she was going out with a friend, someone she met at a club a while ago. "I told her not to go," he whispered to himself, and then harshly rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. "I told her not to go..."

***

Mary slowly finished the cut, leaving Terry's stomach flayed out, exposing soft red intestines inside. A bit of red stained Mary's hands, she licked it off her fingers and then cleaned the knife in the same fashion.
She stared at the blade while it reflected the flickering lights in her green eyes. Everyone told her that her eyes were akin to a cat's, one of the most erotic creatures in the animal kingdom. That fit her just fine, she thought. The knife still had a red fingerprint near the bottom of the blade, above the hilt. She brushed her hair aside and brought the blade to her mouth and gently slid it down her throat deep enough to allow her lips to close around it. She immediately pulled it out and revealed the blade freshly coated in dark red. Mary coughed violently and spat more out of her mouth, letting it splatter on Terry's ice cold corpse.
Pain burned in her throat and she smiled as she coughed. Using the blood from her mouth as a natural lubricant, Mary viciously fingered herself and her cunt became slick again.

***

The phone rang. Samuel bolted forward almost fell out of his chair as he fumbled with trembling hands to answer it.
"Hello?" He coughed into receiver.
"Samuel Lars?" replied a deep voice.
"Yeah,� he gasped, �yeah, that's me.�
"This is Inspector Sparrow, Mr. Lars."
"You got my message then?"
"Yes.� He sighed, �yes I did Samuel, and there has been no leads on the whereabouts of your girlfriend.�

Samuel choked back the sob that lingered as a bulge in his throat.

�Can you tell me about the last time you saw her, Mr. Lars?"
"Yeah, of course," he took a needed breath before beginning again, "She left three nights ago, with some friend that she met at a club a while back, Her name was Mary, or something like that."
"Did she give a description of this friend?"
"No, all she said is that her name is Mary and she met her at a club."
"Okay Mr. Lars, I'll see what we can do; I'll call you if anything comes up, okay?"
Silence.
"Okay?" He repeated, a bit harsher.
"Yeah, okay." Samuel hung up, sighed deeply, and buried his face in his hands, letting warm tears seep through his fingers.

***

"Baby," Mary managed to choke out; blood rimmed her mouth and ran down her chin. She eyed Terry's flayed stomach hungrily, hungry for more blood, more pain, and more pleasure. She reached toward the corpse for satisfaction once again. "Baby."

***

Armand hated working the night shift. He was tired of putting himself at the mercy of the night walkers and the weirdos of Lake Park's streets. The loaded .45 under the counter would not be enough to stop a whole group of them if they decide to gang rape and murder him on their way to that night's big rave. He cursed under his breath and looked under the counter.
A high pitched chime filled the small gas station, indicating that a customer entered.

So did a vile smell.

Armand looked up and found himself face to face with a young black-haired, pale-skinned beauty. Her small, black mini-skirt hugged her generous curves, and sweat made her shirt transparent.
Armand figured out who's been in the restroom for such a long time and discovered where the smell came from. "Can I help you?" he asked, off guard, wondering if she's the victim or the cause someone else's abuse.
"Phone," she choked out with a raspy voice. Blood accompanied her words and speckled the counter with red dots.
"Yeah, yeah of course lady,� he said and reached for the cordless phone, also sitting under the counter �you okay?" he asked, not able to take his eyes off her.

Mary�s only response was a bloodstained smile.

***

The phone rang again and Samuel quickly seized it in a white knuckle grasp. "Hello?" Fatigue infected his voice.
"Samuel...." Said a fuzzy voice, a ghost from beyond the phone lines.
"Yeah, who's this?"
"Terry is your girlfriend," it said, teasingly, singing it like a nursery rhyme.
"Yeah." His weariness instantly dissipated. "Yeah, she is, and what do you know?"
"I know your her boyfriend, she was screaming your name while I was fucking her."
"Who the fuck is this?"
"You know me as Mary."
"Where's Terry? Is she okay?" Samuel stammered and rose to his feet.
"Okay? She was fantastic, her and your child were great playthings."
"Playthings? What do you mean?" Samuel yelled into the receiver, and clutched a handful of cigarette butts in his shaking fist.
"What do you think I mean?� she said plainly �they are with me."
"Where are you?"
"Do you want me to tell you? I could send you her nipples in the mail."
"Fuck you!� he screamed and threw the balled up pile of butts into the darkness �where are you?" Perspiration slicked his face and stung his eyes.
"Or do you want her cunt?" She giggled, "I want you to see my artwork, I'll tell you where your loved ones lie."

***

All was quiet at Jack's Discount Gas, no car or life in sight. Inside, Armand smiled with his throat ripped out. He lay over his own counter, with a loaded .45 rammed up his colon.

The motor of Samuel's speeding truck and the squeaking of its breaks tore through the silence when he pulled up and halted in front of the station's bathroom door. He got out, hesitated, and stepped forward several moments later, swinging the bathroom's door open with an open hand.
The rancid, suffocating scent of feces and urine invaded his nostrils. Samuel clapped a hand to his mouth as his eyes poured over the sight under flickering bathroom lights.

Only Terry's torso seemed to be intact, sitting on the toilet bowl. Barb wire dug into her soft, pale flesh. The wire contained her entire torso and Terry's nipples soaked through the thin paper of an envelope pinned to her shoulder, creating two red rings around his name written in cursive.
The lights revealed a red, pulpy pile of flesh in the sink; his child. The water still ran over its small mutilated body. The water cascaded over the sink's rim and splashed on the floor, creating a pale crimson puddle around Samuel�s feet.
"I named him," said the same fuzzy voice from the phone, "its Henry." It came from the night, behind him. "I feel your pain, I love your pain."

Samuel found no words to combat hers.

"I get off on it. Now my dear, Sammy," she put her delicate hand on his shoulder, "I want to experience your pain."

***

�God, the smell is horrible!� Officer Clark blurted out after he kicked open the bathroom door.

Officer Jackson stood behind him, squinting against the early morning sun. �Get used to it,� he said, �and get some light in there.�

If the smell reflected what would met them inside, he did not want to see it, Jackson thought.

A large flashlight in Clark's hand clicked on and revealed the massacre. Two missing person cases became solved at the same time.

Samuel gazed at the police officers from death, his wrists nailed into the tile. Dark, almost black, blood soaked his white shirt from a slit throat.

The rest of the bathroom�s morbid decorations caused the officers to empty their stomachs onto hot concrete outside. They called for backup from the radios attached to their shoulders.

Samuel stared out the bathroom door, with eyes that almost mimicked life. Mary made her way down the highway, hitchhiking along the way, in search of a new toy.