BTS Scenarios

New King (Horror Special 5)

WARNING

The following scenario includes graphic imagery, cussing, and triggering events. The scenario DOES NOT reflect the views and opinions of the author about the church, religions, etc. It is SOLELY for fiction, and fiction ONLY. I greatly apologize in advance.

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When I was six years old, my father and I would attend church service every Wednesday. He'd kneel on the wooden stool, begging God for forgiveness. Ever since my father was discharged from the military, lashing out on me and hurting me was his excuse to cope with the mental trauma that resulted from the field. The bruises on my skin lasted for months; but as soon as he was introduced to the church, dad changed. Lectures and a smack on the butt was his way of dealing with my vigorous, six year old self. I knew something changed in him, and I was thankful for that. He prayed in exchange for his gun and bullets; he listened to sermons instead of explosions and cries. At one point, I thought that everything would be normal as long as we praised God in all His glory, yet our praise for Him was never enough. I hoped that we could start anew, but God decided shit on my parade.

One day, my dad and I made a quick trip to the grocery store to restock our pantry. My nimble fingers were held tight by his giant paws as we filled the shopping carts with what we needed. At the checkout, dad noticed an old lady struggling to carry her grocery bags. He sighed, and knelt down to my level. "You wait here by the door with our cart, while I help her out okay? Stay in papa's sight," He says as I nodded my head and kept a sharp eye on our cart. He jogged over to the old lady, and carried her bags for her. I saw him smile as they walk over to her car—I could never forget that smile.

A loud bang came from outside the store, causing patrons to shriek and scatter around in panic. I hid behind the shopping cart, wailing for my dad to come back. I could hear the sound of tires screeching against asphalt around the parking lot. A black sedan whizzed past the storefront, and all I heard aside from the screeching tires and cries was the sound of bullets piercing through the air. To my horror, my father was face down on the ground with blood seeping out from under him. My heart dropped to my stomach, and I dashed towards my father's unmoving body. "Papa!" I yelled. I kneeled next to him, and tried to shake him awake... He didn't. A young couple found me in the parking lot, and helped me contact any family members (if I had any left) as they thought leaving a six year old all alone was unacceptable. Fortunately, they managed to contact my mother's younger sister, Aunt Sohee.

I wished the young couple took me in instead of that bitch. Sohee would treat me like a servant around the house. It became worse whenever she brought home random men every day, who push me around like Sohee does. I always hid in the tiny closet in my so-called "bedroom" whenever I hear Sohee and a random prick go at it in her room next door. Every night was hell for me. Their animalistic sounds bounced off the walls and unfortunately into my eardrums. Sometimes, I could hear her cry after a beating which I assumed was caused by a dude she slept with. That bitch deserved whatever shit that came towards her. This was my routine until I turned sixteen.

I was at my breaking point. After being abused by that whore, nothing could compare to what her new "toy" did to me. As a tall sixteen year old, I could no longer find refuge in my tiny closet, so I decided to hide in the bathroom. When Sohee and that dickhead were fucking, I shut off the lights, and sat in the bathtub whilst covering my ears from the disgusting noises coming from outside. The noises finally stopped. With little hope, I thought this night was over; but that all changed when someone stumbled into the bathroom. Retching noises and the sickening plop of puke hitting the toilet water came from the other side of the floral shower curtain. I gagged at the awful stench, which caught the attention of the person behind the shower curtain. The person ripped the shower curtain open, causing me to jump. It was the dickhead who was fucking the whore I call aunt. The strange, lanky man gawked at me for a couple of seconds before wiping the puke off his lips. "You'll do just fine," he slurred. His smile sent a chill down my spine; and before I knew it, his hand ran down from my chest to my belt loop. This fucker was gonna rape me! My blood boiled as I pushed the man into the bathtub. I socked him right in the face, causing him to scream and clutch his nose in pain. Out of instinct, I grabbed a fistful of his hair, dragged him out of the bathtub, and shoved his head into the vomit-filled toilet. I watched as the man drowned in his own filth, struggling to breathe.