Ride the lightning mother fucker... (1404 hits)
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Submitted by Adamdidit2u (View user info) at 2004-09-20 17:07:57 EDT
Wednesday July 6th 9:30 pm
Staring at the speckled concrete floor of his cell, Johns eyes glassed over. The objective passer by could have easily mistaken him for a coma patient, trapped inside a world that he didn't know as real. He stared into the distance, as if looking back at windblown green fields with ominous clouds brewing overhead or gazing out at a tropical paradise from the deck of a sailboat in the fading day. But John was a killer, and he was sentenced to die.
He thought about that day, and replayed the events in his mind over and over again. He thought about the days that surrounded them. Looking back it was so clear. All the subtle clues, the slight differences in habits and manner were so much more than they appeared to be. They danced around in his head intermingled with the sight of blood and the sound of metal crunching against bone. Loving goodbyes and dying gasps became one and the same sound to him. The look of terror...
A loud buzzer sounds and John snaps his head up, coming out of his trance like state. He hears the guards putting the prison on lock down for the night. Then he notices a salty taste in his mouth and a warming sensation in his throat. He lifts his hand to his mouth and discovers he has bitten a piece of his tongue off. The sensation of the pain and the blood fill his head with memories once again, and as he stares at the flecked metal bars of his cell he relives that hellish night again.
Friday June 11th 10:00pm
John pulls his car onto his street and slows, almost coming to a halt. He edges past the monstrous shrubs of the old woman on the corner and sees that there is no car in his driveway. He continues down the lane and parks in the cul-de-sac, out of sight of his house. As he slips his key through the deadbolt and unlocks the door he wishes that she were on the other side, waiting for him to hold her, but the house is dark, and he knows that she won't be waiting for him. As he opens the door, a sense of euphoria comes over him. The smell of her perfume, the sight of their home, their life together, thoughts of all the things that made him love her so much rushed through his head. The time when she fell Ice skating and couldn't sit down for days. How she burnt their first meal I their house so bad the smoke detectors were going crazy. The way she would dance like a ballerina by the pool when no one was looking. So many memories, so many reasons he should have stayed put.
John took his overcoat off and opened the closet door, as he hung it up on the hanger he pulled out a small red velvet box that read "Cartier". He smiled to himself, knowing how happy she would be when she saw this. He was supposed to be in Guangzhou still, away on an extended business trip. After getting out of the Marines John found it quite easy to find a job. He spoke Mandarin Chinese fluently and was very adept in Korean, along with Spanish and French among others, making him a huge asset to any company with production facilities in those countries. He had been away for almost 4 weeks, finishing his inspections of a new multi billion dollar plant. She didn't expect him to come home for a few more days, and it was his plan to surprise her tonight, after all tonight held special meaning to them. It was the night that they met. It was the night that he saved her, and she saved him.
After leaving the marines John became well acquainted with the bottle. He didn't like not having any action in his life. Instead of training exercises he had electric bills. Instead of Sergeants there were telemarketers. John was an adrenaline junkie, and was going through withdrawal. Janie was an attractive mid twenties sales associate for any insurance company. She had long black hair and a petite frame. She was of mixed ancestry but the mix of a dark complexion and accentuated cheekbones of her Indian ancestry and her pouty lips and knowing eyes made quite a deadly combination. She was stunning. What she was doing in a shitty little bar was anybody's guess. John had stared occasionally at her through the night, and became irritated that she was talking to these low life creeps. She had disappeared from the bar and he didn't even notice, he was staring at the bottom of his glass. It was 2:00am and last call. He slugged down his last beer and went off to the restroom before he stumbled home. And then fate sprang upon him. He heard struggling coming from behind an unmarked door in the middle of the hallway. Then he heard the sound of flesh smacking face and a whimper. Instinct, or the alcohol and the insatiable need to kick some ass set in, and he opened the door. There were the two guys, and the beautiful young woman, her Shirt ripped and her panties about half way down. "Help me!" she screamed. The first guy tried to slam the door on John, and he slid his foot against it, and it didn't budge. Then in a flurry of fists, and blood, and the two assailants were unconscious. The first had tried to assault him head on throwing a haymaker punch, lurching forward awkwardly. John intercepted his arm and swung him around. As he spiraled towards the ground a swift kick to the sternum and he crumpled on impact. The next guy, seeing his friend take a brutal blow, opted for a weapon and grabbed the closest thing he could find, a whiskey bottle. As he lunged he was caught behind the elbow and the neck and with a twisting motion flew toward the ground, the bottle between his face and the concrete floor. An eruption of blood, screaming and shattered glass followed.
After that he was her knight in shining armor. He had walked her home and she wished that he would kiss her. She got his number so she could thank him another time. It was the least she could do. After their first date there was an almost cosmic connection, and John never drank another drop after their first date. He never needed to. She intoxicated him with everything she had to offer. Intelligent, beautiful, thoughtful and sporadic; she was everything he ever dreamed of.
And now tonight he would ask her to be his wife. He would be complete. He had written a little speech of sorts and rehearsed it a million times, but when he said it out loud in the mirror his voice trembled. He was as 230 lbs. Marine, he had killed over 50 men in combat, and his voice has never trembled while giving orders in the thick of combat. But the thought of her saying no scared him to death. If she hesitated, he would be crushed.
A flash of light gleaned across the front room and he snapped back into the present.
A car pulled into the drive, but it wasn't Janie's. He peered out the window and saw a man step out of the driver's side, finish a beer, and then throw the empty can on his lawn. He was about to walk outside and kill this prick for littering on his lawn when he saw who got out of the passengers seat. Even thought it was dark out and he couldn't make out the face he could tell by her long black hair and slender build it was Janie. Then she laughed and he was certain. He watched as the two walked toward the house and by instinct he ducked into the spare bedroom and slid into the shadows, watching, and waiting.
The two entered the house, and were apparently drunk. They hadn't even noticed the door was unlocked. The man wandered into the kitchen and retrieved two more beers out of the fridge. Janie walked into to the center of the room and slipped the straps of her dress down her arms, as it slid to the floor the moonlight from outside accentuated her gentle curves and her petite figure. The man entered the room and was now wearing a big smile. "Eh, so you wanna play?" he said. "No. I wanna you to come fuck my brains out." She deadpanned. She slipped her panties off and unsnapped her bra. Standing there naked she smacked her ass and walked into the bedroom. "Come and get me" she said from down the hall. The man opened a beer took a good long drink from it and casually walked down the hall, smiling all the way.
John was filled with rage. "How could she do this?" he wondered. "Is this the real her?" A thousand unanswered questions swarmed his mind. He began to think about the little differences he had noticed in the past month. Her change in schedule. Her not begging for him to come home every time he talked to her..... Then the sounds of Janie moaning snap him back to reality.
Someone's going to fucking die he thought.
He crept out of the bedroom and made his way downstairs. He flipped on the light and stood astonished. His bar was trashed. Cigarettes were put out on his pool table, his Liquor all but gone. There is a bong on his bar top and a mirror that still has a faint white dust on it. "What the fuck is going on here" he though. He slid behind the bar and grabbed one of the few bottles left, Wild Turkey, his old favorite. With bottle in hand he walks over to the rear closet and opens the door revealing a safe. He opens the gun locker and selects a Glock 9mm and his Army issue survival knife. He slowly heads up the stairs. In his mind he hears only the sound of him gulping down the liquor, the heat of it releasing the demons, and the moaning. And the moaning. And the moaning.
Standing in the doorway he looked down at his prey, like a raptor on an injured field mouse; menacing and thirsty for blood. Janie was now riding the man, her back arched and facing the doorway. He slowly stepped forward and grabbed her by her hair, close to her skull. In a flash he lifted her off and drove her face into the hardwood floor of the bedroom. Her skull gave a reassuring "thump" as is bounced off the hard oak. She lay motionless on the floor, still breathing, blood spilling on the floor beneath her face. Standing up, with a cocky grin on his face, John faced the stranger. "Who the fuck you think you are!" the stranger yelled. No reply. John stepped forward and took a cigarette from his pocket. "I'm gonna fucking kill you!" the man said as John searched for his lighter. The man lunged and John sidestepped catching his shoulder. He spun him around and held him in a chokehold. The man struggled but it was no use. The grip was tight, like a noose around his neck, growing tighter and tighter. The last thing he ever heard was the sound of a 9" cold steel blade being ripped from its sheathing.
John let go of the man and wiped his blood on the covers of the bed, and now turned his attention to Janie. She looked so innocent, so defenseless on the floor, and for a moment John freed himself from the bloodlust that had consumed him. He placed her on the bed and waited in the chair in the corner for her to awake. A few minutes passed and she groggily looked up. When she saw him, and felt the blood running down her face, she began to scream and shout about how he was never there and he didn't satisfy her and.... *crack*. With a quick motion he had snap kicked her and broke her jaw. She sniveled on the floor, her eyes full of tears, as she was now face to face with the corpse of her new lover. She tried to scream, but it was to no avail. John lifted her up and laid her over the bed. He had plans for her. "You want to act like a slut! Then I'll treat you like one" he sneered. He unzipped his pants and began to violate her. She cried in pain as her anus bled and tore. She begged for mercy when he put out a cigarette on the side of her neck. She whimpered for him to stop, and he assailed her with his fists. She eventually fell limp, unconscious from the pain, but John finished anyway. Smiling as he pulled out. He walked back downstairs and got some duct tape, and returned to the bedroom where he promptly bound and gagged her. Thinking about all of the pain and pleasure he had in store for her, a smile passed his lips.
As he sat down to smoke a cigarette, and thought about how he would dispose of "his" body. He heard car doors, and voices. He flipped off the lights and closed the bedroom door, drawing his Glock he silently slid behind the door. He heard the voices of 7 or 8 people come in, and go directly downstairs. One walked down the hall and toward the bedroom. A skinny excuse of a man slowly opened the door. "Kurt? Janie? You guys done", he asked. John sprung from his hiding place and plunged his knife into the young mans lower stomach. A look of sheer terror fell across his face as he looked up into John's cold unforgiving eyes, and with one quick motion John pulled the knife up through his midsection. The young man collapsing on the floor convulsing and eviscerated, a look of sheer terror etched into his dying face.
He pushed the door open and walked down the hall. "So these fuckers think they can come into my house", he said to himself as he loaded around into his pistol. He turned the corner to the stairwell and descended. Before he reached the bottom a young girl maybe 18 at the most turned the corner and made her way up the stairs. She never even looked up at him, ominously pointing that gun at her head. *BLAM* The top of her head exploded in a fountain of blood and she fell back the remainder of the steps. Seeing this john thought about the blood, the horror, the rush of killing. He was grinning like a retard who just won the Special Olympics. He turned the corner at the bottom of the steps and everyone stopped in their tracks. He stared at the faces in the room, a bunch of twenty something drugies he thought, all of them high off one thing or the next. One guy leaning on the pool table with his pants unzipped, a young girl on her knees in front of him. Three more behind the bar doing lines. One passed out in his favorite chair and two others standing about ten feet from John and his glock.
"Hi" John beamed at them. "My name is John and this is my house", he said like a deranged mister Rogers. The first two never had a chance. As he finished his sentence he fired off a series of shots, two rounds catching one square in the chest the other in the neck. The three behind the bar ducked under it and the man with his pants down made a run for the door. John shot the hell out of him for fun, emptying his clip into his body. The girl stayed completely motionless still kneeling on the floor, trembling in terror. He approached her, and looking over her with his massive physique calmly said "If you suck my dick, you can live". She reached for his belt, her hand shaking, and he placed his hands on either side of her head. Her neck made a sickening cracking sound as he twisted it sharply. She fell to the floor with a gaze of innocence, her lips still pursed as if ready to receive his manhood.
John walked over and set down his pistol on the pool table and walked to the other side of the room opposite of the bar. The three who had ducked behind hadn't stirred. He looked down at the fellow passed out in his chair. He was still unconscious. John reached into the cabinet behind him and pulled out a Remington 870 Shot gun and loaded two shells into the chamber. He slid the long barrel into the man's mouth and squeezed the trigger. The resulting blast took his head clean off, burying the remains in the back of his favorite chair. John swung around and fired a round at the bar; shattering glasses in bottles on those cowered below. His attention turned to his Aluminum baseball bat as his next weapon of choice. He placed a hand on the bar and let out an evil laugh, and then hopped over it into the midst of three poor bastards. He swung and swung, breaking bones, and bruising flesh. The young girl behind the bar tried to crawl away while he swung on her two friends. He kindly responds by coming down with a swift overhead swing that spilled her brains all over the floor. When he walked from behind the bar, the other two looked like hamburger, and he contemplated starting up the grill, but he remembered he had left something upstairs, and was quite excited from his rampage.
Once back up stairs he returned to find his Janie already dead, she had choked on her own blood. He contemplated having his way with her anyway. Disappointed he flicked on the TV, and drank the rest of his whiskey. When he awoke it was to a gun pointed in his face, and four officers in front of him.
A bell ringing. John snaps back into the present again. "C'mon John" a voice says. They lead him down a long hall to a room with a single chair. Behind the curtains he can see all of the people from the trial, the victim's families. He had been sentenced to death for the murder of twelve people that night. The fact he told the judge "given the chance I would rape your children and eat you fucking liver while you beg for mercy if I had the chance." during the trial didn't help him he was sure. He had nothing else to live for anyway, he longed for it to be over. Before they strapped him in he flipped off the audience with his free hand. Then as the pastor asked him if he had any final words for god he grinned and said "fuck you, I came to ride the lightning, so let's go." And he began to hum the song until the switch was flipped, rocking out till his dying breath.
User Reviews
Submitted by MANICMOTHER (user info) at 2005-07-29 22:47:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
WoW you don't see evisceration often on Uber.
Submitted by transformer (user info) at 2005-06-23 14:16:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Thanks for the handy hint
Submitted by Davros (user info) at 2005-01-04 15:48:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow.
The Retard line seemed slightly out of place.
The Rape-esque scene was a little distasteful, but allowable in the context of the story.
Overall Wow.
-Dave
Submitted by Ed_0150 (user info) at 2005-01-04 03:06:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I wish I could give this more than +2, easily one of the best posts I've ever read.
Submitted by I_Have_a_Kristen_Fetish (user info) at 2004-11-01 13:38:00 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
fetishdidit2u
Submitted by whiskey_jack (user info) at 2004-09-21 00:17:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Good story. And +2 for Metallica reference. No better way to die then rocking out. BOOYA!
Submitted by TeenageDirtBag (user info) at 2004-09-20 19:55:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
If they made this a movie, I'd watch it.
Submitted by gibberish (user info) at 2004-09-20 19:19:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I didn't read it, but I'm drunk so have a +2!
I gotta stop posting when I'm drunk... I think I'm up to 5 now. And they're all so shitty except for one. Fuck.
Submitted by hcp28 (user info) at 2004-09-20 18:07:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
awesome
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2004-09-20 18:07:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
awesome except for the 'retard in the special olympics' line. it seemed out of place.
Submitted by Lost_Gator_Fan (user info) at 2004-09-20 18:02:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Well written albeit a bit disturbing.
LGF
Submitted by Gnome (user info) at 2004-09-20 18:00:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
you twisted motherfucker. well written
Submitted by 38missing at 2004-09-20 17:55:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
All the death, the destruction, the brains, the drugs.
I loved every second of it.
Submitted by 1Point21Gigawatts (user info) at 2004-09-20 17:23:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This is really long and it looks really good, I browsed it and I definately will read it later. But I've gotta get out of work now, so take an automatic +2 for Metallica's best album. I'll catch up with this later.