The Sickness

The wooden door slammed back into the moist grass with a loud thud. Hastily climbing up out of the dark hole, the girl was met by a blinding light, one that seemed to engulf her entire being, instantly uplifting her mood. Tremendous tress surrounded her from every direction, the dazzling rays of the sun shone intensely between the plethora of trunks and branches. After quickly slamming the trapdoor closed the child raised her dainty hands to her bewildered face, shielding her eyes for a brief moment in order to acclimatise to the light. It had been quite a while since the last time she was graced by such beauty, such delightful tranquillity.

 The wretched cries of the beast dwelling within the prison had now, all but disappeared. Perhaps the creature had given up on its sick venture, or maybe, just maybe, it hadn't given up at all, but was seeking an alternate route in which to hunt her. Knowing full well that the monster could resurface at any moment, the girl hoisted herself up from dew covered grass and eagerly paced onwards. While she hadn't the slightest clue as to which direction to go, she felt that she needed to head anywhere the monsters couldn't find her. Upon reaching a narrow path she noticed that the tress arched over in a peculiar way, powerful giants trying their very hardest to block out the suns nourishing rays. Their efforts however, were to no avail, the path remained beautifully lit. Her hands had now stopped shaking and her tiredness began to subside.

 

The girl spotted what appeared to be a dainty wooden hut just a few hundred yards away settled upon a small patch of grass towards the end of the path. At least, it looked like a hut, perhaps it was a small house. Perhaps somebody would be home, somebody who could look after her, and more importantly, return her to her loving mother. Her mother must by now have been worried sick, not figuratively speaking but in a literal sense. That deep, guttural slab that proceeds to build in your throat when you just know something has to be wrong, almost to the point of throwing up uncontrollably. Her father on the other hand, it was odd, no matter how hard she tried, she could not remember him. No vague, fading image of his face...Nothing. Whenever she asked her mother about her father, her mother would simply shrug the question off, most of the time, hastily changing the subject to something more palatable.

 

Walking through this part of the forest was not quite as eerie as she expected it to have been, the tress were swaying softy in a gentle breeze, and the sound of flowing water echoed through their thick, rustling branches. The Hut was close now, she would now be there within minutes. Without intention her excitement started to build rapidly, quickly taking over her limbs, adding joyful elegance and energy to her walk. It was as though she just knew there would be somebody waiting to help her. Call it intuition or simply just childish hopefulness, she knew this journey was about to come to an end.

 

She was now able to make out what the hut actually was, and what that was instilled an instant bout of painful disappointment. Upon closer inspection, it looked to be nothing more than a small wooden shed. Although a little disappointed she still had that youthful gleam of hope in her eyes. Something good would come of this, the world and nature alike would make it their prime duties to help her find safety. A few rusty work tools lay scattered around the old shed, sporadically thrown into small, piles on the ground beside it. The shed had multiple planks missing from the its roof, giving her the impression that it had not been used or at least had not been tended to and mended in quite some time. A faint sound began to emit from within the shed. Almost like the muffled sounds of somebody making a clean bed. The girl stood in place momentarily, trying to focus her hearing, then after a few moments, proceeded onwards. While moving closer the sounds began to become clearer, it was a woman, at least she thought it was, and she sounded as though she was humming loudly, while dressing herself, or maybe she was making some kind of tiny bed in there? An unbounded sense of curiosity took over and the child naively picked up her pace and approached the shed. Reaching the rickety old door, she pushed it open with glee, unleashing a loud metallic creak. The girl stood, completely frozen, her eyes started to widen in an almost cartoonish fashion, to the point of almost bulging outwards from within the sockets. Her face was taken over by a wincing expression, like a scream was about to be released...But no scream did. A young woman lay naked on the ground before here, pools of thick, almost black blood dripping from her forearms arms pooled around her.. A man had hold of her left leg, his nails had penetrated her pale skin, leaving long trails of blood leading down to her ankle. His other hand. gripping her hair tightly, in no way she had ever seen a man hold a woman before i her entire life. The man was loudly spouting harsh sounding word towards the woman beside him, words to which the child did not understand nor had she ever heard before.

All you w****s, you are the f*****g same, think you can steal from me eh, You'll remember this b***h!

Suddenly, though she tried to suppress it, with her hands held to her mouth, the girl squealed in fright. The man quickly, yet calmly turned his head towards her and smiled intently, a familiar smile, that same, grotesque grin that had taken over Slug's face back in the prison...A grimace with evil intentions behind it.

Your next!  The man bellowed as he began to repeatedly beat the young woman below him in her ribs, all the time retaining the same evil grin, meeting the child's gaze perfectly.

 

She felt a hand press down firmly on her fragile shoulders. Quickly looking up, she was greeted by the face of another man. Though this man did not share the Slug grimace, his face expressed his emotions almost flawlessly, he was angry, the veins in his forehead looked as though they were trying to escape through his very skin. She had never seen such a look, such an expression of aggression before. Without warning the man threw the child out of the shed, and gripping both sides of the door frame, hoisted himself inside. The girl’s vision was now blocked but she could hear the sounds of a brawl. There was a struggle taking place. A struggle that she had witnessed before, the struggle between good and evil. Wood cracked and planks fell violently from the exterior walls of the old shed, revealing only small glimpses into the events taking place inside. After what seemed to be less than a minute, the young woman stumbled out of the shed holding her face with both hands, all the while crying intensely,  as blood was still dripping from her arms. Just as the child was about to comfort the distressed young woman, a loud, heated quarrel came from within the shed.

You b*****d, you sick, twisted rat!

This voice did not sound like that of the man who bared the slug grimace.

You want to know what it feels like? Yes, of course you do!

Please...No, I paid her good money!  This without a doubt being the voice of the man who had caused the young woman such distress. After a moment of complete silence, the voice of the raged man returned, this time with a much sturdier tone.

My pride is to deal with infestations...I have a rat right here. Dealing with it, seems fitting, does it not?

The harsh sound of a soft object being sliced was heard, followed by a rapid series of spine chilling crunches. A scream of pure agony was unleashed. A small pool of blood started to gather outside the old, wooden door. The girl began to gingerly lift herself up off the ground to investigate the scene, when the red-faced man paced out of the door, with his entire body hunched over, dragging the other man by his hair. The other man was weeping hysterically, while holding his crotch tightly. His hands covered in thick red blood.

 

The girl was utterly astounded and confused by this situation, and curiously followed the man; he appeared to be following the same path she had taken only a few minutes before. The positioning of the angry man’s grip looked excruciatingly painful and the expression of the other man’s face only reinforced this. The angry man suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, just to the left of the small hatch that the girl just struggled to open. Without hesitation and with swift, powerful movements he swung the hatch open, the rusted hinges nearly snapping in the process. He then grasped the other man at head height with almost Herculean strength and held him over the dark hole.

A beast for the beast!