Crack Attack: A Collection of One-Shots and Other Disturbing Shit

Proofless - Uncut Alternate Ending

           "There we go! Here he comes. You scared us good, Robbie, zonking out like that and thrashing around like a crazy person. Are you done now?" The words slowly start to make sense again as I regain consciousness, the memory of our great escape still too fresh in my mind. Preston's battered body is tied up next to me, his bruised arms and legs strung up tightly to the head and footboards so he can't move a single muscle. The hundreds of pairs of dots from her needle are clearly visible along his skin from his shoulders down to the tops of his feet, dried drops of blood painting streaks down his skin. I look over at him and the gift wrap tape holding his split lip back together, his swollen eye barely open as he stares back at me. He is completely dead inside. I know soon I will be, too.

We failed.

We wasted too much time in the house and she caught us.

We were so close... We were crossing the road into town and she drove her van off the side of the road to chase us. It was my fault - my stiff leg gave out and I started sliding back down the hill. Preston, being the idiot he is, he stopped and came back to pull me with him. She plowed the corner of the van into him and knocked him flat on his ass; he's lucky he isn't dead. Or would that make him unlucky because he's back here? I wasn't going to leave him there and she gave me an ultimatum: either I could go back with her in peace, or I could play with the handgun aimed directly at my head.

I couldn't leave him here. I couldn't do it. I love him too much, even if it isn't the kind of love they both seem to wish I felt. Sometimes I think it was a mistake, but thankfully I won't live long to suffer for it.

We aren't allowed to leave the bed at all now. We are trapped back down here, but it's worse than before. He is tied up like a medieval prisoner, naked and unable to move a muscle with a metal turkey pan under his ass and a huge catheter draining his bladder. I have a pan, too, but she must have removed my tube while I was knocked out because I can't feel it stabbing me anymore. She smiles sweetly down at me, holding the box cutter knife that had made me pass out the first time. I want to pass out again and not wake up this time. Preston is still staring in my general direction with dark, blank eyes. He looks like he might die of defeat any minute now, and I hope he does. He will take me with him - she won't have any use for me without him. She clicks the retractor button on the knife a few more times to get my attention.

"Don't look at me like that, Robbie. We can take as long doing this as you want. It's all up to you! You were both bad, bad, BAD boys but you were the one who concocted that little plot. And you know we can't do this to Preston because we need his. Maybe after this, you'll be a good boy and take him again so you can give him his first little girl. I don't care how long it takes. It's your one job, isn't that right, Preston?" He doesn't even look at her. His eyes are trained only on my face. The needle must have really taken it out of him. I look back down at her and she is frowning. She puts the knife back in her pocket and she comes up a little closer, turning the screw on the metal egg in my mouth so it opens an immeasurable bit wider, stretching it open as far as it can go. But I feel every atom of it. My jaw is almost open to the breaking point and it hurts so much that it is making my eyes water. "You'll have plenty to say soon, Robbie. Tell him what you think about him beating up on me like a punching bag."

"UH! UH! UHUHUHUHHHH!!!" The knife is back in her hand and it sinks lower and lower between my legs until I can feel the ice cold metal between my balls. Everything already hurts down there from her shaving it clean. If razor burn hurts this much, the next few minutes seems incomprehensible. She teases me, bringing it down just hard enough to poke at it with the tip of the blade. No matter how much I scream or squirm, all she does is giggle and poke.

"Okay, enough fun now. Let's see what we have here." Her bare hand goes down to hold them in place and I can't take my eyes away as the knife plunges back down. A searing pain shoots through my body and I scream as the blade circles all the way around the top and she pulls incessantly at it until I think the stars floating in the room are going to turn into a black hole and swallow me whole. She brings up the bumpy, red flap of empty skin to show me before she throws it down on the ceramic dinner plate with a disgusting slap. "Look what we have here. Looks pretty nasty down there, Robbie. We should clean that up." She holds up the slimy, bloody, bulging ex-contents of my sack for us to see and Preston makes a retching noise, the first sign of life I have seen out of him since I woke up back down here in the basement. White and pink glands, red and blue veins, grey and white tubes, and pink meat flap and slosh around in her hand as she plays with it. I just want her to cut it off and clean it up before I get an infection to prolong my misery. I have no concept of time anymore but I can feel her pulling and slicing, turning and slicing, twisting and slicing, squeezing and slicing as she cuts through them one millimeter at a time. Splashes of hot blood spray down my thighs into the turkey pan and I feel like an actual turkey being prepped for Thanksgiving. Tight gauze wraps around the void of pain. I hope it doesn't stop the bleeding. When she shows me the plate again, I know there is nothing left of them.

"There we go! Looks much better. You'll feel better in a couple months when the baby flushes all that nasty stuff out of your body. You know what time it is now, Preston. You can thank Robbie for this. Go on! Thank him!" He stares up at the blank ceiling and mutters a lifeless 'thanks.' She walks around the end of the bed to stand next to him, her bloody hands turning his face to look at her. "Dinner time, Preston. Open up." I feel my body drifting away again as my blood turns to icy water. Why can't I pass out again? She roughly pries his mouth open and slips a long, white bloody tube in his mouth, holding his jaw shut until he swallows the raw morsel. He screams and tries to fight. It doesn't help. She waits until he settles down and he eats another piece, then another and another. Eventually, all that is left is the two warm, light pink striped eggs and she squeezes them playfully before he takes them willingly, cringing as they slide whole down his throat. "That's a good boy, honey. And that'll solve both of your problems. Soon you won't need the pills again." She walks back down between my legs with the plate of pooled blood, staring heartlessly down into my eyes. She flicks the last limp chunk of meat hanging down there, its head brushing much lower down than it ever has before. "You learned your lesson this time, didn't you? I think you did. I'll let you keep the rest so Preston has something to play with during funtime. But remember: I'll take it away from you if you don't behave. Does that sound good, Robbie?"

"Uhhhh! Uhhhh!" I nod furiously and she jabs the catheter back inside while she gives me an evil smile like the true demon she is.

I believe in hell now. I believe in Satan. She lives above us, right upstairs.

There is no heaven - there is only upstairs.