Bite me

A gory story of a man chained to a wall. He knows why he is there. Can you crack the code?


1. Prologue

He screamed.

Screamed again.

Then again, this time a little louder and more like the sound of a creacking door. His chin touched his chest. Burried itself in the thick, sticky hair flooded in sweat.

He tried looking at her but failed. The deep, brown, bloodshot eyes were just as heavy as the chains holding him up. Having failed his attempt he instead focused on the tiles underneath him. Red. Painted red with blood. His blood. The smell stung in his nostrils, made him dizzy. It would be so easy throwing up. Letting it out, but the easy way out wasn't necessarily the best. And he knew this. Therefore, he held it in. Swallowed the lump of fluid and leftovers from last night's dinner.

"You know," she said while sharpening the knife. After all this time it had gotten a bit dull. Even with her back towards him, he could sense the smile widening on her lips, showing the fairytale white teeth. She held the knife in front of her face and caressed it. Still with the knife pressed against her cheek in a lovely manner, she turned to face him.

He had been right. The smile was certainly there. She continued in a rusty voice while walking towards him. "It didn't have to go down this way." Her cold fingers took a grib around his cheeks, squishing them up against his nose.

She caught his eyes with her own. He could no longer run. Forced to stare into the madness he had caused. But he refused to fall victum. So he didn't.

He gathered up saliva and sent it off in her direction. She closed her eyes as it exploded on her face. "Bite me." he hissed. She smiled. "Oh..." laughed. "Oh, you actually did that." with her free hand, she whiped the spit off and opened her eyes. Her black, velvet eyes. Black like the night sky. No, darker. Darker than the blackness from a dreamless night.

Her eyes. They were the true darkness. The darkness from which all evil climbed. Climbed into the closet, under the bed and into the human mind. Here it hid. Waiting for the right moment. Because a real hunter knows when to strike.

And so did she.

She pulled an eyelash upwards, lifting his eyelid. He saw it coming before it happened. Saw her tigthening her grib around the knife. Saw the knife rise towards his eye. Felt it carve into the thin skin. He screamed. Kept on screaming. Even when she lowered the knife and showed him the cut off eyelid, the screaming didn't stop.

She rolled her eyes and threw the eyelid away. Then she lifted the knife to his face. He closed his eyes. But no more pain were felt. Instead he heard the screech when the knife hammered into the space between two of the bricks behind him. For a moment he felt relieved. But when he saw the smile on her face that feeling was long gone.

Her face approached his in a drastic speed and then her lips engulfted his. They tasted dark. Dark like her eyes. Like his worst nightmare. He wanted to break free but couldn't. All he could do was watch as her finger ascended up his cheek and stopped as they reached his unprotected eye.

Still with her tongue exploring his mouth, she tuck her fingernail in behind his eye and digged it out. 

He screamed, but it was as though her tongue absorbed the sound.

She pulled away from him and looked at the eyeball in her palm. Then she looked at him. She smiled. "You wanted me to bite you," licked her mouth. "Right?"

She placed the eyeball between her teeth and pressed them together. One half of the eyeball went into her chewing mouth and the other fell on the bloody tiles.

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