The Butcher of Wickton

Inside the Torture Chamber

         The man woke up slowly, his head was killing him. After a few seconds he realized he didn't know where he was. A few seconds after that he realized he was naked and tied to a bed. Surrounding the bed was a dimly lit room with an unpainted ceiling and bare wood walls. Hanging from the walls was an assortment of objects, divided into like groups. One section of the walls held water colour paintings and pencil sketches. The man could only make out some of the images, a painting of the local cemetery, a sketch of a playground. The other painting he could see was quite different; it depicted, in colour a stylized figure cut open with its organs carefully rendered, a pool of blood surrounding the scene. The disturbing image made the man turn his head away, another wall held knives, scalpels, ropes, handcuffs and all manner of torture devices, some simple, some far from it. At this point the man started to panic, the last wall did nothing to quell his fear. It contained two photographs, each of a different man. The men in the pictures were tied, spread eagle to a bed. All were covered in blood, their faces masks of terror. A door opens at the top of a staircase. Into the room steps a well-dressed, young woman. She smiles at the man on the bed, something in her smile only makes him more afraid. 

          "Good. You're awake. I was hoping you wouldn't sleep long." She says. Suddenly memories of the night before come flooding into the man's mind. 

          "I met you at the bar last night. I bought you a drink, we talked for a while, and..." At this point the man realizes he is slurring his words. "You put something in my drink. You drugged me and now I'm..."

          "My guest. You're my guest. I am sorry about the drugs, it's so inconvenient." The woman sits down on the edge of the bed and moves her hands up and down her victim's body. The man tries to flinch away, but the ropes allow no struggle. Her hands move down to his cock, she strokes it up and down as her breathing gets heavier. "Do you like that?" She asks. The man shakes his head vigorously. 

           "No! You drugged me! Let me go!" He screams. The woman's smile fades briefly. 

            "Sorry. I'm not going to let you go. But we can certainly have some fun before I kill you." She says, her smile returning. The colour drains from the man's face.

            "Kill me?"

             "Of course. Though I'm sure you haven't heard of me yet." Without warning the woman bites down hard on her victim's neck. The man screams as she digs her teeth in deeper until she draws blood. "You taste wonderful. I think I'm going to make this one slow." She whispers into his ear. She returns to stroking his cock until, against the man's will, it becomes completely hard. The woman gets up and lifts her dress, revealing that she is not wearing underwear. She straddles the man, inserting his cock inside her. The woman laughs as she rides her victim, his screams of fear and protest bringing her closer to orgasm. She moans loudly as she climaxes and then proceeds to walk calmly over to the wall of torture devices. Taking a large hunting knife the woman moved slowly as she cut lines of blood along the man's body. Some were deep, others were shallow, before moving on to the next she carefully licked the blood from his skin. After long minutes it was time for the finale. With the tip of the knife she deftly sliced off both of the man's nipples. Then she made two long, curved cuts on opposite sides of the victim's chest. He screamed in agony. The woman retrieved a small, brightly coloured camera and snapped a picture. The picture printed out quickly. "My best yet." The woman raised the knife to his neck. "This has been fun. But like I said, I'm not letting you go." She sliced the man's throat, ear to ear. She put her lips to her victims neck and drank as the blood flowed freely. When she was done she untied the body and dumped it on the floor. She took the mattress off the bed and leaned it against the wall, she'd take care of it later. Right now there was work to do. "I think it's time to go public."