No More

'No More'

The Beginning

He ran to the next house, but that door was locked, too. The boy collapsed in exhaustion as the clawed hand dragged him back to the others.There was no face or gender to the hand. It was cold, and the boy could see bloody splits in the yellow, wrinkled skin, almost as if it were dry rotted.

He moaned as he was dragged back to the others. The sight of the school was tainted with the smell of blood and death. His cheek and left shoulder were skinned down to bloody pulp from being dragged on the rough pavement and then the scratchy carpet of the hallway for so long.

The hand dragged him down the hall to a classroom. The bright room held a group of five of his classmates, each no older than 18. They all wore collars attached to their neck. Extending from the top and bottom of the collar was a pronged, metal rod. The tips were sharpened and aligned under the chin and above the spot  where the collarbones met. The students had their heads tilted back, for if they dropped their head the pronged ends of the collar would pierce the tender flesh and kill them.

One of his peers had given up. His body had collapsed onto the tile floor and the boy could see one pronged, bloody end of the collar through the lifeless youth's open mouth. Tears streaked down the boys pale face as he was forced to watched each of the four remaining teens drop their head onto the pointed rods.

 

He started to cry, but the cause of his tears was not fear. They were tears of relief, happiness. Finally, they had to go through the pain they had put him through. They were finally going to understand true self loathing. Everything bit of mental and physical pain he endured would be returned tenfold.

The hand pulled the boy to another room, where he watched two more of his peers quartered with a sick smile on his face. Incisions were made on each of their bodies before hot oil was poured into their wounds and eyes. Then they were yanked by an invisible force on each of their four limbs. This dislocated the joints in their legs and arms before the limbs were ripped off entirely.

This physical torture of the boy's harassers continued until the boy felt he was going to burst from satisfaction. He watched each of his classmates die and be tortured more than once. Tongues were cut off, eyes were gouged out, and Achilles tendons were slashed. More of the pronged collars were attached to the students, then the boy was forced to watch as all twenty-three of his peers dropped their heads on the sharp prongs, but that wasn't enough to satisfy the boys twisted pleasure.

Each one of his peers died, and then came back, only to be tortured and coaxed into the bleak arms of death. One girl with blond pigtails was decapitated completely. The boy recognized her as one of his main tormentors. First her fingers and toes were removed, then her calves and forearms. Her thighs and biceps were dissevered, followed by her facial features. Her eyes were gouged out. The girls ears, nose, and lips were perforated, leaving a bloody mess behind. Then she was sliced open. Her kidney was taken out, her lungs hacked off and then stomped on. The length of her spinal cord and most of her veins were roughly yanked out, followed by her ribs. What was left of her spine was carved out with a crude saw. All of her internal organs were cut out and cast aside like yesterday's trash.

Her heart and brain were saved for last. The heart was simple to remove; the lump of muscle was artlessly rolling around the girl's empty torso. Her brain, however, was much more intricate. The hand slit open her head with a surgical saw and peeled her skin and bone away from her brain. The grey lump was torn out with a sickening rip. After that, her head was removed and the hand pulled him from the room, leaving the girl and her bloody remains to rot.

The whole experience felt terrifyingly satisfying. The relief he got from seeing her finally die was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. She was dead and he was alive. That's all that really mattered to him.

His shoulders dropped down heavily, his head bowing as he sunk to the floor. The pain was no more; they were gone, dead, and could no longer torment him. He vaguely felt something sharp and bloody drag its way across his throat, but his eyelids were too heavy, his mind too far gone. Something poured from his neck as his conscious self retreated to the back of his mind.

There was a nudging, a terrible nudging.

"Wake up!"

The soft nudging turned into shaking.

"Wake up now!" The shout was loud and caused him to jerk as he opened his eyes to the familiar sight of his classroom.

But the classroom was different. There was no blood, no decaying students. The girl who was shaking him had blonde pigtails and was in one piece. She was also looking down at him in disgust, bringing him back to his dream.

"What's with your hand? It's creepy looking. You might want to get that checked out. Hopefully you just die from the infection." The students surrounding them laughed, mutually agreeing with the girl.

The boy looked down at his hand and his heart stopped. It was yellow in color and was covered in wrinkles and bloody splits, almost as if it were dry rotted.  He smiled, for now he knew what had to be done. The door to the classroom was slammed shut by an invisible force, leaving a resounding bang in the room. He stood up, suddenly feeling taller. The hand, his hand, reached up to the girl's throat and grabbed it in a vice.

"No more." It was the boy. He laughed as he saw the panic in the girls expression.

"No more," he repeated.

His sudden strength allowed him to slam the girl into the wall, her head bounced off the wall from the impact.

 "No more!"

 The End