Dom

Chapter Six | Chainsaw's Kindness.

The young man looked petrified, his chest and fingers hurting against the chains. 

Most of his environment did not make sense.

He was coughing. He was having trouble breathing.

Most of his vision was blurry with the blood covering his face. Most of the blood came from his father's body.

It made him nauseous. It made him livid.

And even with his head almost ripped apart from his shoulders, all he could panic over was the scene happening in front of him.

He kept shouting. Begging for the monstrosity to be done with. Pleading for the nightmare to stop and never come back.
In actuality, the man wished for all of this to not be real. For it to be an illusion. A mirage.

But the mounts of pain in his body could not be compared to the horrors his father's body endured while sitting on that chair.

"FUCKING STOP THIS!" The man roared after seeing the gag in his father's mouth clog his inhales and exhales, while he suffered in those tied ropes around his body.

The father could only watch his body getting mutilated with every cut.

The father could only watch as his body received every single sliver of that sharp knife on his thighs, on his fingers, on his chest, on his neck.

The methadone in his blood kept circulating from the tubes and injections. The pain kept coming to him as bits of his flesh were getting pierced. Yet the painkillers were induced more and more so that every time he would get pain, he would not feel it after 3 seconds.

And to keep him in pain, he had to be cut continuously.

All while his son watched him.

"END IT WITH ME. END YOUR SICK EXPERIMENTS WITH ME! Don't hurt him more!" The young man implored, trying to make himself fall from the chair. 

But the nails on his kneecaps and toes couldn't help in any movement. 

He was coerced to be seated.

The father vomited blood from his mouth once the cuts reached his chest.

"NO! PLEASE!" He cried, seeing his father emit milky tears that indicated spores in his brain, all coming from breathing in the toxic smoke he was exposed to in the torture room.

The milky tears reached his gagged mouth, making him taste the deplorable bodily fluids that were rotting inside his body.

The father winced and crooked a call to stop.

The cuts kept going on, with iron getting deposited in large into his liver and lungs.

He was slowly drowning in the fluids in his breathing bags.

"HE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING FOR FUCK SA—NO!" The man cried harder, seeing his nose and ears bleed now, and the father watched in horror after more of the used surgical instruments in front of him contained waste.

All injections given to him were used before.

All needles were used in different bodies.

And God forbid someone uses it on you.

"FUCKING DIE YOU SON OF A CUNT. YOU BASTARD!" The man spat from afar, seeing the monster's back towards him.

The monster made no move in turning around or talking.

He kept cutting the man's body until he reached his fingernails.

The father's breathing quickened after the scalpels were used to cut off those nails.