HOLY SHIT. This seriously couldn't be happening right now. I turned to face Yaz, and we both had mutual looks of astonishment and disbelief.
Layla had truly lost it.
Turning away from her for a moment, my eyes glazed over the darkened room, seeing that it was a spitting image of mine, except for a few key differences.
Gleaming black paint colored the walls with thick bleeding symbols carved into them, soft red liquid dripping from the sharp incisions.
Thousands of crimson and white candles littered the surfaces, creating a delicate yet horrifying ambiance, along with sketching soft shadows on the wooden floors.
Layla beamed at us, sludging forward from the bathroom to stand in the middle of the circle she made out of our tied-up bodies. "Welcome to my cleansing ritual, everyone. I promise it'll only hurt a little." Giggling, she slammed the bucket on the ground hard, causing candles to tremble and lights to flicker. "Wakey wakey, bitches."
Her vulgar tone and the friction of the bucket hitting the wooden floor woke up the rest of the contestants. It took a few people a couple of minutes longer to awaken then others, but once everyone was conscious, they all sported the same expressions — bewilderment and shock.
"What the hell's going on here?" Gmie glanced up at the teething Layla before looking down at her bound arms and legs. She sat directly across from me in the large circle. "Why am I tied up?"
Layla hopped up and down, naked breasts jiggling with every movement. "Cause you're a fucking skank monster who needs to be thoroughly cleaned and primed." Nails dripping with fecal matter, she pointed at all of us, twirling like a demented dreidel. "All of you will be cleansed and stripped of your vicious layers so you can all descend into the virtuous land of heaven. I will do this for God. This is my job as his soldier and servant."
"His soldier — what the fuck are you talking about?" Rucker banged his boots on the floor, trying to loosen the rope on his ankles. "You're nothing but a sick demented bitch who needs to let me the fuck go before I strangle her bitch ass."
Layla swung her chin upwards, pride radiating over her murky complexion. "This is my job. My daddy always told me I was a pure, cleaning vessel of God," she said, waving her arms in the air before scratching down her stomach. "It's my reason for being. It's why I was created — to use my fluids to cleanse the monsters that walk the earth. To purify the disgusting vile homospaiens that try to corrupt the pure children of this world. God sent me here for a reason. To rinse his bastard children, so they can descend upwards into righteous light."
Fluids? Purify? Every word that escaped her lips became more and more strange and irrational. Salvia dripped from her cracked lips, seeping down her jaws and onto the floor in small puddles.
Did she really believe all this? That she was a cleansing vessel? I stared at Layla, remembering the frightened little girl she was only days ago, and now, severe ominous and fierce bloodlust clouded her presence.
"I always denied my gift, ignoring my daddy's words," Layla said, staring at the ceiling. "But Zimmie revealed the truth to me. She kept me on the right path and told me what to do. And I'm finally thriving. Thank you, Zimmie for believing in me and my gift." Layla smacked her filthy hands together before shimming forward in a seductive dance. "I will do this for God and his son Jesus. I will cleanse and exterminate these filthy souls and send them up to you for the final rinse."
"Exterminate?" Chi squeaked from my left. "She's gonna kill us. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." Quick pants spilled from her smudged red lips, chest heaving around like kids jumping on a trampoline.
Gmie grunted while trying to loosen the ties around her wrists. "Will someone freaking get this psycho, please? Hurry."
Yaz set her eyes on Gmie. "Don't you think if someone could get free, they would've by now? Huh?"
"More than half of you are nitwits or welfare trash," Gmie said, wiggling her wrists. "So, I thought you guys might need some guidance."
A cruel, dry laugh left Yaz's throat. "I hope she kills you first. Then I can at least die happily."
"At least I lived a lavish life unlike your scanty ghetto ass," Gmie said, glaring. "You probably don't even know who your daddy is. Your family was probably bred for Maury."
Spots of intense rage sparkled in Yaz's eyes, darkening them to an almost black. "Oh, you did it now." She sprung her body forward somehow, landing a few feet in Gmie's direction. "I'm gonna whoop your little rich ass. Come here."
Gmie jerked backward, watching Yaz trying to get to her. "Someone get her. Get her!" This was one of those instances where Gmie showed actual real fear. "Get her."
"Stay back," Demo said, looking at Yaz, who was still trying to get to Gmie.
"Shut up before you catch these hands too," Yaz said before clenching her teeth.
Demo grumbled before trying to move toward Gmie herself, probably trying to protect her. Both girls tried to scuttle over to Gmie, trying to get there before the other.
It was really a hilarious sight, watching the two of them try to wiggle across the circle like drugged worms, using all their energy to move an inch at most at a time before falling backward because of the bondage around their wrists and ankles.
Layla interrupted the fiasco by suddenly swirling and dancing and humping the air while humming a joyous beat, the knife and the bucket swinging in her hands.
Everyone watched her do this. Even Gmie, Demo and Yaz stopped arguing to watch Layla gyrate around the room like a humping rabbit before she stopped awkwardly in mid-thrust to slam her giant janitorial bucket on the ground.
Dropping the knife beside it, dirty hands palmed her thighs as Layla squatted over the bucket, a light-hearted hymn flowing from her lips before she let out a satisfied moan. "Help me, Jesus. Bless my bowels with the cleansing solution to rid these people of their sins. Help me, please."
A moment later, wet plopping noises echoed from the bucket, as a harsh rancid odor wandered throughout the room, making my nose and eyes cringe. Ugh.
"Can someone please confirm the image that is currently raping my eyes?" Rucker stared at Layla, eyes glimmering with judgment and disbelief. "Is this bitch really shitting in a bucket?"
"Fuck that, did you hear what she said?" Aries shivered. "Something about blessing her bowels with cleaning solution. She's going to clean us with her shit."
I shuddered at the image of her shit covering me. No. No. My hands wiggled, trying to get the rope and plastic ties off my wrists, but none of my efforts worked.
Layla continued to poop and hum her song like we weren't even there, the odor in the room worsening by the second. A creepy permanent smile etched her face, creating a sinister glow along her golden skin.
I shook my head. This was unbelievable.
Here Layla was, covered in shit symbols while shitting in a bucket in front of people she presumed to be evil monsters while singing a lighthearted tune to herself while also spewing out distorted religious text. All while moaning, touching herself and promising to clean us with shit.
But never did she lose that cheerful ominous twinkle in her eyes. She had never been this relaxed and at peace before. That's when I knew she was mentally unstable, and we were all truly doomed.
YOU ARE READING
Battle of the KillersHorror
What happens when a bunch of killers are forced to live together? BATTLE OF THE KILLERS is a reality show that follows Betinia Woods, a girl kidnapped and forced to live in an underground bunker with twelve other killers. The bunker is equipped wit...