|Escape To Erase
Author: lif3isp3achy PM
A story of a psycho who escapes from prison and the cop who is trying to catch him. R & R appreciated, much love! This will be quite a dark and bloody story!Rated: Fiction T - English - Horror/Mystery - Chapters: 2 - Words: 1,715 - Reviews: 1 - Updated: 05-12-12 - Published: 05-10-12 - id: 3021266
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Escape To Erase – Chapter 1
I just pounced on the cell door and ripped each bar off piece by piece whilst the jail guard looked appalled, bombs of terror imploding within him. He fell back and suddenly tripped over his own feet, whatever shreds of courage he may have had vanishing like some sort of magic trick. The screams of the prisoners grew chaotic and they began to bang their cell doors with the power of a raving lunatic, rattling like a snake with Parkinson's disease. The sound carried the whole way down the hall and I got caught up in the eye of the storm, beginning to project my voice as well. I bellowed at the jail guard as he just lay there closing his eyes, hoping I didn't kill him given my reputation and the whole reason I was in prison in the first place. The man just thought of his wife and kids as his life flashed before him, I wasn't feeling so sentimental.
I groped one of the metal bars with one hand and pulled the guard to his feet with another. My audience went insane, cheering me on, perhaps thinking I was going to save them as well. How wrong they were but nonetheless I let them applaud me as it provided me with a smug sense of psychotic accomplishment. The animalistic fear in the man's eyes was piercing right through me; he was like some sort of puppy, crying like a new-born baby. He implored me to leave him alone; he explained he had a life just before I explained that I had a life, my spit flying in his face, dousing him with my vengeful, disgusting mucus.
I eventually got sick of him trying to wriggle his way out of my web and apparently so did my fan base, as they proceeded to boo him. They also began to question my morals, they didn't think I would do it but alas they were wrong once again. With no remorse, I smashed his average looking face with the bar, just once though, I didn't want to kill this one yet, I had a plan for him. A noise shrieked from his throat, a mercy cry. He fell to the floor again straight after the blow and began to cry, or at least it looked like he was crying behind his new makeover. The crowd went wild as all sorts of pus and liquids fled from his mushed face. One blow was enough to make him look like mash, perhaps I hit him too hard, I thought. I threw the weapon on the floor and the clanking noise it made was somehow amplified by the fact that I have just totally ruined a man's face with it.
I pulled off the bit of rope that was holding my pants up, knelt to the ground beside my victim and tied it around his neck, tight enough to not come loose but not tight enough to choke him to death. My pants fell down so I just removed them and I was now in my underwear. He writhed in agony, offended by my bashing. He was damaged, not just physically but emotionally, he knew he was going to die and he accepted it, at least in my head he did anyway, I didn't really have a clue what he was thinking, he was merely a pawn in my sick game. His blood was now beginning to form a circular puddle around the both of us. I thought of slayer's 'Reign in Blood,' and remembered what a good record that was. Not my favourite but certainly a classic.
I picked up my weapon again. At the end of the hall was quite a small, circular stained glass window, easily large enough for a normal sized man to fit through, and certainly large enough for someone to be squeezed through against their will. Together, all of the little pieces of the window made up quite a crude picture of God. I gripped the end of the rope that was securely fastened around the man's neck and began to drag his epileptic body up the hall towards the window with one hand, passing all of the other cells, bashing every bar with the dislodged bar I held in my other hand, rousing the other prisoners encouragement, they went crazy for it as the pungent trail of blood wafted up through their noses, assaulting their sense of smell with sweet bliss.
We reached the end of the hall and I initiated the next step of my plan. Hung above the stained glass window was a little bulb with no shade. I tied the free side of the rope around it and after making sure it wouldn't come loose, I kicked the window through. Shards of colourful glass fell to the ground and smashed like diamonds, making a pretty little collage. I then heaved the near dead guard up with both of my hands, asked him if he had any final words and when he replied with a muffled, agonizing scream, I shoved him through the hole and his body dropped with an amazing force. The body then came to a sudden halt and started to jerk around until finally it just began to swing back and forth like some sort of funfair ride. The man screamed like a trooper until all noise ceased, apart from the now annoying volume of the prisoners getting a hard on from my show.
I then climbed out of the window myself, putting both hands on the rope before shimmying down the wall as if it was some sort of mountain, my Everest, leading me to freedom, or so I thought. As soon as I reached the bottom, I put my index finger into the air, catching some of the blood that was dripping from the man's battered head. Once I had enough, I began to write a message on the wall of the cell block. It was hard and I had to refill my 'ink,' a few times but I managed to get it done. The message read 'This is only the beginning.' I decided that I was happy with my words of wisdom and began to run way from the cell block; towards the manhole that led to the sewers I had noticed when they brought me in. The manhole was just around the corner and I thought I was home free, I had escaped and I was angry, ready for anything. The fresh air was like sweet ecstasy to me and I lapped it up, happier than an innocent kid after getting his favourite toy for Christmas. The noise of the prisoners finally started to fade as they realised I wasn't coming back for any of them.
I was wrong, escaping was about to get harder for poor old me. I had got caught up in the moment and failed to notice the wail of the alarm that went off when I destroyed my cell door. The moment I had turned the corner to head for the sewers I was met with what felt like a thousand blinding lights as police officers all stood with torches and weaponry. Helicopters whizzed above me and dogs barked relentlessly, I was swarmed and startled but I got my head in the game and quickly ran back, taking cover inside a dumpster at the corner. The cover would not protect me for long. I had to think of a plan B.
This was not over.