"Thirteen…fourteen…fifteen," Q had gotten so bored that he was counting how many times Sal gagged in the past five minutes. "Sixteen...seventeen...eighteen...ninetee- do you want me to take the tape off so you can go puke?"
Sal quickly nodded his head, gagging for the twentieth time. His stomach started to ache like he had been stabbed directly in the belly button several times. Something was still moving around in his gut, pushing and gnawing on his innards. Q slowly moved towards Sal, grabbed the tape with both hands, and ripped it off. Covering his mouth, Sal tried not to scream. The pain of just having duct tape ripped off of his face shot throughout his cheeks and burned like hell fire.
"Oh fuck, I'm so sorry."
Before Sal could speak, he felt something slip between the spaces of his fingers. Q grabbed his sickly friend and dragged him over to the kitchen sink. Sal emptied the contents of his stomach in one violent motion, spitting and coughing harshly afterwards.
"What in the shitting fuck is that?"
____________________________________Short cause suspense
YOU ARE READING
Impractically Broken
TerrorI've had this idea in my head for a while now, so why not write it down. [I NEED TO STOP WRITING NEW STORIES]
