Author: Venustas iaceo PM
A little boy named Brent has landed himself in a hospital after a scarring incident... one that's given him a permanent fear of showers!Rated: Fiction T - English - Horror/Supernatural - Chapters: 2 - Words: 1,282 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 1 - Updated: 04-04-05 - Published: 04-03-05 - id: 1876267
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
chapter 1 (or .. is it 2? I think it's one... let's not get into this again.)
Brent was walking down a long, white hallway with just a towel wrapped around his waist. He looked around, staring at the tiled, glistening walls and grimacing. He knew where he was headed, but he couldn't stop his feet from moving forwards.
The brunette lifted his head to see a white curtain infront of him with fresh dark crimnson stains, each with trails running down them until the floor beneath was bathed in a thick red liquid. Still yet, Brent found he had no control over his body. His hand drew up to gently push back the blood-stained shower curtain. Upon doing so he shook, giving in a gasp as his eyes ran to see an image of himself being held down by his father.
Brent looked a lot like his father, and many considered him a clone-in-the-making, but what he saw'll now horrified him. Brent didn't want to be like that man.
Brent's father was standing over a younger verison of Brent himself and holding the boy by the back of the neck with one strong hand. His other hand was pulling down at young Brent's lower jaw causing his mouth to be open to the liquid pouring within. Burn marks covered both of them, proving that the water was at scalding temperatures.
The room shifted, and suddenly it was Brent under the water like so many times before. He was struggling, gasping for air and thrashing with all his might to no avail.
Tears were strolling down Brent's cheeks as he tried to scream, only to make a gurgle into the hot liquid. His father suddenly whipped the boy around, letting the hot water slam into Brent's back before it slowly running down.
His father took out a pocketknife that had been in his pocket, sending gashes into the boy frequently. Brent screamed, once again trying to get free but a powerful punch was landed to Brent's already sore face and knocking him into the wall. The skin had busted and blood was trickling down his face (as well as gushing forth from all the wounds he'd aquired from his father.)
Brent's dark green eyes looked up fearfully into his father's. However, they didn't look like his father's eyes. No. There was black where white once had been, and red where the pupil had been. A hiss came forth from the large man's lips as he sent another punch to the boy's head.
"Stop it! Please!" cried out Brent as he collapsed against the wall and began sliding down. "Please! Dad! Stop it! Stop it!"
His father gave a twisted sounding laugh, standing over the boy and holding the blade against Brent's right eye. An arm of the man's went up and turned off the shower as he leared over his son, grinning madly and suddenly breaking out into a taunt. "Please, please! Oh Daddy, stop it! I'm a little cry baby who can't take it!" His voice suddenly took a far more serious tone, deep and dark and sounding nothing like the gentle father that Brent loved. "Just shut up kid. Daddy's not listening right now. He can't help you. No one can help you."
Brent had tucked his head down, pulling his knees up against his chest and doing his best to just keep breathing. Saltine tears were falling down his cheeks, suddenly accompanied by blood as his father dug deep into the boy's cheek and sliced down very slowly. The boy only quivered all over, closing his eyes and whimpering out a few muffled words.
His twisted father bent down once more, going to whisper into his ear. However, this time words of mocking didn't spring forth from the man's lips. A hand came up and gently stroked Brent's head, and the words whispered into Brent's ear were of comfort. It wasn't the voice of his father, instead it was the kind voice of Mary.
Brent opened his eyes weakly to see Mary above him. Mary's hand came down and gently stroked the boy's cheek as she smiled.
"Good morning, Brent. Were you have another nightmare?"
Brent nodded his head, sniffling and finding that'd he'd been crying in his sleep. He leaned up and wrapped his arms around Mary, burying his face into her stomach and wailing once more.
Mary simply nodded, far used to Brent's behavior by now. She patted his head gently and went to speak, but it wasn't Mary's voice. It was the evil voice that had come forth from his father from before. "Well, you're up now. Come on, Brent. It's time for your morning shower."
Thanks for reading!