mjolner (mjolnier) wrote,
mjolner
mjolnier

Random fantasy...

"It's dark, I cannot see!" I verbalize the realization as I wake to blackness but not before noticing that I cannot move. I tight grip firmly holds my wrists and ankles down and a dank smell assails me like an old dusty warehouse long forgotten by all but the local children who still throw stones through the windows but are too scared to enter. As I slowly become more and more awake and thus aware, I immediately sense the presence of a person to my right.
I can hear a faint drip in the distance, the air is still and cool but dry. I notice a small amount of light creeping in from the bottom of the blindfold but despite my eye's reach I cannot make anything out except the shape of my own nose.
The scrape of a foot turning on it's heel toward me forces me causes my heart to skip a beat only to start pounding so loud that I can't hear the breathing that I can feel upon my cheek.
"About time you woke up..." A soft yet cold soprano voice pierces my entire existence sending shivers down my spine and forcing me to shudder. Her voice makes my body immediately feel different, every nerve is awake, tense yet somehow soothed. I feel her lean even closer and her breath intoxicates me as it passes over my ear. She whispers very matter of fact-ly, "Now be a good boy and stay the fuck still... or I'll leave you here." Her voice dropped an octave as she said the last part of that comment. I become aware of the tension in my muscles release it letting my limbs fall slack. "That's a good boy."
Seconds pass but it feels like and eternity as I hear this strange woman moving some objects around on a table to my right. This seems to go on forever, the anticipation builds relentlessly driving me to a mad panic but I don't move, I don't make a sound. My body yearns for more air, I feel like I'm suffocating but I don't allow myself to breathe any faster. An eternity of this scraping and shuffling noise, then silence....
...another drip in the distance....
...silence... I'm losing my mind, what is she going to do to me? Am I going to die? Where will my body wind up being found? Who is this woman? The questions race incessantly through my manic mind, image after image flies by from people I know crying at my funeral to struggling futilely against cement blocks dragging me ankle first into the depths of the Mississippi.
Suddenly I feel a sensation. Something is dragging across my stomach from my naval upward toward my chest. It feels pointy, like a knife but not as sharp. The sensation slowly climbs my torso and crosses my chest closing in on my neck causing a panic to built in me as it gets closer and closer to my throat. "She's going to kill me," I think, "She's going to shove this thing through my throat..." My heart is racing, I'm no longer controlling my rapid breathing and I can almost feel the grin on my assailant's face. The blade finally stops just under my Adam's apple. "This is it," my mind tells me and I brace for my impending demise.
Then the familiar sound of scissors opening coupled by the sensation of the object becoming two on my throat let's me know what's been slowly dragging up my body. I feel two fingers grab at the collar of my shirt and the scissors begin to go to work cutting in little snips. For a moment I am both grateful to still be alive yet disappointed in having my shirt destroyed. The scissors scratch against my skin and occasionally poke me causing me to writhe as my shirt slowly gets cut away from my body. The air is becoming hostilely cold now but I know it's probably mostly in my mind. As one of her hands continues to cut, the other occasionally brushes my chest as she pinches and pulls gently at the cloth. Her touch is warm and exciting, it sends little electrical charges through me and I feel intoxicated and delirious with a kind of insatiable need for more. This continues till my shirt is in ribbons around me. Then I feel scissors on the ankles of my pants, but these are another pair. Someone else is cutting my pants off. I only just come to this realization when I feel scissors on my other pant leg. Three? How many people are in here with me? Who arranged this? How did I even get in here?
To be continued...
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