Wes Dark Oakes

29 Jan, 2013 09:49 PM

He waited in the night like a trapdoor spider, ready to lunge at the first insect to pass by. He didn't care if his subject was male or female, he could work with both. He saw movement in the corner of his eye. A young female came up the sidewalk, dressed for a night at the club. As she passed by he jumped out of the alleyway wrapping his arm around her pulling her in. He quickly chloroformed her as he ducked back into the darken alleyway. She was out cold instantly and he laid her on the ground binding her feet and hands with rope. He then gagged her and blind folded her, leaving only sound and touch as her allies. He threw her into the back of the van and shut the doors quietly. He was all the way on 4th street when she started to stir. She woke as he pulled into the warehouse and she started to mumble then scream. “Shush, that ain’t going to help you now sweetheart.” he said as he grabbed her legs and slid her to the back of the van. He picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. She kicked and screamed but, nothing helped she couldn't get loose. Finally he put her down on the floor and she kicked him hard in the leg. He didn't seem to even budge. She heard a cage door slam and then he removed her blindfold. She was instantly hit with bright light.

As her eyes adjusted she notice she was in a cell, inside a white room with tile floors. The lighting was bright and she could see a stainless steel table across the room, with a large drain near it. Around the table on the back wall there were stainless steel cabinets and drawers. She looked up and seen a stocky older man with black hair in a black trench coat. He wore latex gloves on his hands and he had a wicked smile on his face. “Welcome to my studio, I’ll show you around later. Right now I have some work to do. I’ll be back soon I promise.” He walked to the far side of the room and opened the rusted door and left, closing it behind him. Jessica was in a state of complete panic, in fact she couldn't even move. However her brain was still functioning and she realized she had to move quickly or she would be dead. She looked around the cage, and it looked much like a jail cell. There was a bed, a toilet and a sink, all against the back of the wall. Her feet and hands were still bound and she still had on the gag. There were no objects around the room she could use to try to untie herself. So she was stuck for now, with no way to escape. She drifted off into thoughts that her life would end, or she would be tortured and brutally raped in this bright white room at the young age of 22. So she cried and slept, waiting on the monster to return.

She fell down into a deep sleep, like Alice fell down the rabbit hole. Then she dreamed. It was a cloudy cold day in 1998. She was ten again and it was cold out. She was wrapped up in a nice winter jacket and scarf. She was on the sidewalk waiting for the Christmas parade to pass by. She watched as it slowly went by, elves throwing candy canes and other various candies out onto the street and sidewalk. Finally Santa came by and the parade ended. She only lived a block away from where the parade was and she was a responsible girl so her mother let her go alone. Jessica walked down an alleyway on her way home. She weaved in and out of boxes and trash as she walked. Everything seemed darker inside the alley as it always did. She stopped and opened a candy cane and dropped the wrapper on the dirty concrete. She was nearing the end of the alley, when a man stepped out from behind a dumpster. He wore ragged clothes and smelled of cheap wine. “Hi, little girl wanna play?” he said staggering to his left. Jessica took off in a flash in the opposite direction. She was kicking trash and boxes every step she took, and he was on her heels. She could feel and smell his nasty breath on her neck. She was almost out of the alley when he grabbed her. He threw her to the ground and he smiles down at her. “Hold still sweetie this wont hurt too much” he said laughing. He cut into her flesh carving a crescent moon shape on her forearm below her wrist. Jessica woke up screaming and begun to cry. Crying about the dream and about the white room she was in. After she calm down she seen how eerily quiet it was in the room. No sound just bright light and white walls. She ached from head to toe and her throat hurt from screaming and crying. There was no way to escape right now but, there might be in the future. So she needed to keep a clear head. She couldn’t give in, to the thought that all hope was gone. Exhausted she slipped back into a deep slumber.

“Wake up sweetheart, wake up” she heard as she awoke from uneasy darken dreams. She was sitting up now and strapped down in a wheelchair. The man stood in front of her with a wicked grin on his face. She noticed she was ungagged and she begin to speak. “Hush little angel, I’m taking you to see my dark gallery.” he said putting his index finger over her lips. Once he removed his finger she started to cry and plead “Please let me go. I won’t tell anyone anything.”. “No my dear I can’t do that. You are going to be the star of my next showing. So young, so fresh, so beautiful.” he said as he rubbed the inside of her thigh. She began to cry in great big sobs “Please…”. “Hush sweetie I’m taking you on a ride through my gallery of Macabre. It will put you in a state of shock and horror I promise!” grinning he wheeled her out the rusted door. They entered a long hall way with brick walls on both sides. Lights hung from the ceiling by long chains. They swung from side to side casting wicked shadows in all directions. They approached a door where he went around her and slowly opened it. On the other side was another long hallway but the walls were made of glass. He turned up several switches and fluorescent lights begin flickering on. Jessica was staring at the right side glass and screamed as the light shined down on a grotesque seen. Inside was a guillotine with a blood stained blade. In front lay a blood drenched basket, with a severed head inside. In behind was a body on its knees slumped down on its shoulders and neck. The whole seen was covered in patches of dried blood. “I call that one the beheading of King Louis XVI. It got great reviews from my fans and patrons. Do you like it?” he asked through clenched teeth. She couldn't speak or move her face was contorted in shock. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He said with mad laughter.

He glanced down looking at the horror on her face, he notice something familiar on her forearm. A crescent-shaped moon scare was below her wrist. He started to laugh hysterically. “My dear this is not the first time we have met.” He said ending his laughter. She stared into his mad eyes and whispered out “What?” “Remember the alleyway on that cold cloudy day? When I held you down and carved that moon into your flesh, as you screamed and cried? Yes it was me and now you’re mine once again!” He burst out into a wicked laughter, which chilled her to her bones! She burst into tears whispering “No!” in a soft whimper. This was him the man who had scared her and raped her when she was a child. She wanted to kill him and to escape but she was bound. There was no hope left she was locked into this wicked mad nightmare and there was no escape!

Inside a glass hallway of horrific unimaginable nightmares, she closed her eyes lids tight. He continued on turning her in front of each glass display of blood soaked madness. Laughing in soft tones of lunacy, he pried her eyes open wide to see each horrendous scene. All was masterfully detailed gruesome deaths from both reality and works of fiction. Butchered innocent victims with their dried blood staining each nightmarish scene. She was forced to see them all. It was more than mere shock that she suffered. It was a living nightmare of hellish designs; and it drove her into silent madness. Making her unaware of the terrible atrocities that would soon be committed upon her. “You my sweet child will be my masterpiece! You will put my audience in a state of fanatical madness and celebration!” he said. He wheeled her back down both hallways and into the white room. She gave little resistance to him unstrapping her and lifting her from the chair onto the cold chrome table. She was fully plunged into a darken abyss of madness. He easily strapped her down and striped her nude. He examined her naked body and smiled at the crescent moon scare. He got a rock hard erection, as he smacked her savagely trying to wake her. He wanted to hear her screams of terror and pain as he created his art. She did not move or wake from the darken abyss.

She screamed and woke from the darken abyss; as she felt the cold knife cutting into her skin. It was less than a minute when she passed out from pain.

The young women hung by hooks with her gut’s spilling to the floor. Her arms outstretched like the wings of a demonic raven beginning to soar. Below a man looking upwards posed in horror, holding a volume of forgotten lore. The madman knowing he can do better smiles at his patrons saying “This is my masterpiece Nevermore!”

Wes Dark Oakes 10/21/2011

Revised 05/03/2012

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juny says:
01 Feb, 2013 04:43 AM

this is really good, with good ideas, but with several grammatical mistakes. Also, it's nice but the details aren't so good.

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Wes Dark Oakes says:
02 Feb, 2013 12:17 AM

It's supposed to be ambiguous! With the sentence structure issues I would love to chat and you give me your thoughts and idea's!

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MultifariousDiabolique says:
05 Feb, 2013 02:53 AM

Wes, I like your story. I would like you to consider a few changes and ideas, then i'd like to include your story in a book I'm working on. Email me if this sounds interesting to you.

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Wes Dark Oakes says:
11 Feb, 2013 08:52 PM

I'm Interested how can I ge your email?

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XxMetztlixX says:
06 Oct, 2014 07:14 PM

OMG AMAZING i could just picture the bodies as art truly masterpieces

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Afraa says:
20 Nov, 2014 08:31 PM

"All of old. Nothing else ever. Ever tried. Ever failed. No matetr. Try again. Fail again. Fail better." Samuel Beckett

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The one says:
21 Sep, 2016 09:26 PM

the detail is enough to make me go mad ahahahahah. Wait.....Im already mad. wuite mad i may say for thy self was completely enveloped by this stories attetnion to detail i could the feeling of the tingles. Good story lad but pay a bit more attetnion to detail and you could possibly drive one person to be as amd as me one might say my madness has no i end i say it does but to an extent it does not. Ha being mad is fun isnt it.

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