Through The Eyes of Our Horror

Chapter Twelve: The Process

Marilyn's heart raced as she waited in the dimly lit living room, the shadows dancing ominously on the walls. The events of the previous night replayed in her mind like a horror movie, each scene more unsettling than the last. Her mother's unsettling words echoed in her ears, sending shivers down her spine.

The clock seemed to tick slower than usual, each passing second filled with dread and uncertainty. Marilyn paced back and forth, her footsteps echoing in the empty house. The pit in her stomach grew deeper with each passing moment, a sense of foreboding settling over her like a heavy fog.

And then, a sudden knock at the door shattered the eerie silence. Marilyn's heart leaped into her throat as she made her way to the door, her hands trembling as she reached for the handle. As she swung the door open, her eyes widened in fear as she saw her mother standing on the other side.

"I was starting to worry," Marilyn greeted, her voice barely above a whisper as she scanned the empty space behind her mother. "Where's Pres?"

A chill ran down her spine as her mother's cold gaze met hers. "Oh, he's not with me," Mother said matter-of-factly, a sinister smile playing on her lips.

Marilyn's blood ran cold as she felt a wave of panic wash over her. "Then where is he?" she demanded, her voice trembling with fear. "Mom?"

"He's with the processors. I couldn't deal with him, and you signed those rights to me," her mother explained, her words sending a chill down Marilyn's spine.

Without a second thought, Marilyn's hand shot out, the sound of her palm meeting her mother's cheek echoing in the room. "Get him back then," she hissed, her eyes blazing with a fierce determination. "NOW."

Mother's face remained expressionless, a stark contrast to the red mark forming on her cheek. "No, dear. It's too late," she replied, her tone devoid of any emotion.

Marilyn's scream echoed through the empty warehouse. "No!" she shouted, her voice trembling with fear. Ignoring her mother's pleas, she sprinted towards her car, her heart pounding in her chest. As she fumbled with the keys, her hands shook uncontrollably. The engine roared to life as she peeled out of the driveway, the tires screeching against the pavement.

Arriving at the processing warehouse, Marilyn burst through the doors, her eyes wild with desperation. She frantically scanned the room, searching for any sign of her son. The sight of other children huddled together made her blood run cold. The thought of their suffering sent a shiver down her spine. She had to find her son before it was too late.

Marilyn's heart raced as she desperately called her son's name, her voice echoing in the empty chamber.

The air was thick with the coppery scent of blood, the sight of the stained floors and walls making her stomach turn.

But she couldn't turn back now; she had to find him. Rushing down a hall, she found the room the children were in and snuck in. As soon as she spotted her son, she ran to him, collecting him into his arms. She was angry at her mother for betraying her so much. How could someone have so much resentment towards their eight-year-old grandson?

The boy whimpered, burying his face into her shoulder as she ran back out, carrying him in her arms. The other kids cried, screaming for their mothers, but she couldn't risk getting caught. "Come with me, just try to be quiet okay?" She instructed as she walked with Presley down the hall. The fact that she was able to get through so easily made her skin crawl. What if they got caught?

Marilyn's heart pounded as they snuck down the hallway, her footsteps echoing in the empty chamber. The thought of being caught terrified her, but she had to do everything she could to save her son. Every turn seemed to take forever as she led the children to their safety. She knew the place had traps set for outsiders and intruders like herself, but she was smart enough to avoid them.

She made her way past the other kids, not knowing their names, and rushed them outside the building. She had only gotten a couple of miles away before she pulled over, her heart pounding and her palms sweating. But she couldn't get far; several guards chased after her, batons in their hands. Running as fast as she could, she kept going until a hard thud was felt on her head.

Waking up, she felt a slimy texture around her body, then realized as she opened her eyes, that she was inside an incubation tube. There were many, many others around her with other humans inside. But each and every one was missing their skin, blood seeping into the strange liquid.

Screams were heard coming from the room next to her. Then the screams got closer and closer. She turned her head and saw one of the men walk into the room, a huge cleaver in his hands. The screams sounded like blood-curdling murder, their pain evident with every breath they let out. Before Marilyn could scream, she felt so much pain searing through her. Her skin was peeling off and floating around in the tank with her until it was fished out.

Her blood turned cold as she heard a loud cracking noise, followed by a sickening squelch. Marilyn's eyes widened in horror as the man slowly raised the cleaver, the blade now stained with blood and pieces of flesh. "You lost me the kids, but you'll have to do," The man said sinisterly.

A needle shot into Marilyn's side from somewhere in the tank, filling her with grease of some kind. It was excruciatingly painful, and she could feel her body begin to swell, organs threatening to explode. The man's laughter echoed in the chamber as she tried to hold in the pain. But before she could give in, the world around her went dark.

Marilyn's head was pounding as she regained consciousness. She was lying on a table, a rope wrapped around her body and keeping her arms and legs tied tightly. Large hands hoisted her up, tossing her into a large tub of hot boiling oil. Unable to get out, she screamed and screamed as the oil seared her flesh. The more she struggled, the more it hurt, and the more she sank into it.

It was the most painful thing she had ever felt, and she prayed for the sweet release of death. The laughter of the man echoed around her as she felt her skin start to bubble and pop. As her world faded in and out, she began to foam at the mouth.

"You're gonna make some great bacon, Marilyn," the man laughed.

"Mommy?" Presley's voice filled her head, and suddenly, everything faded into black.