Just practice writing involving a book character


He stared at the neon walls hating everything. Immanuel ran his graceful fingers through several tight coils of hair tumbling out of the elastic bands he tried to contain them with. He pulled on one of them until he thought he might actually rip it out. The sudden pain helped him focus. He released his hair in favor of reaching for the glowing pipe resting on his coffee table. He picked it up and wrapped his lips around the glass tip. He inhaled and a feint taste of lemon mixed with an even more sharply bitter chemical finish made him pucker. He blew spurts of smoke through his nose and repeated the process. He choked on the smog hitting the back of his throat. He took a big swig out of the nearly empty beer bottle he kept on standby to ease the torture. He threw the now empty bottle against the adjacent wall. It smashed on impact with pieces of glass spraying in the air.

He kicked the coffee table and it skittered across the expensive wood floors leaving behind a trail of scratches now dug into the finish. The woman he drugged did her best to cover her head to protect herself against the raining glass shower. He bound her hands together with first zip ties and then he wrapped strong duct tape around those plastic bonds. He purposefully made sure to tighten them to the point that it almost cut into her skin. She deserved this punishment. He watched her try to hide away by curling into herself. She drew her knees against her chest and lowered her head nearly into her own lap. Little pieces of glass fell off of her shoulders while she moved. Immanuel took another hit off his barely disguised poison. It never mattered to him whether or not he died because of his many deplorable vices. He simply didn't care. He stood and while he walked towards his captive he set the pipe down onto his innocent table. He kicked her hard in the leg. She screamed.

"You scratched my floors." Immanuel falsely accused.

"You're a piece of shit!" She bleated.

He leaned against the wall now and observed the way she coward before him. Fuck was she pretty. Her bleeding mascara and smeared lipstick changed nothing about her gorgeous russet face. Immanuel squat to get to her level. He gently nudged her shoulder.

"Fuck off." He obliged her.

He went into the kitchen to fetch a fresh beer. He left the light off and navigated through using his memory of where things existed in the space to guide him. He opened the refrigerator and the sobering soft yellow ambiance of its weak bulbs calmed him slightly. He popped the cap on his new beer. He downed its entire contents in a series of massive swallows. He tossed this bottle into the garbage. He rooted back in the fridge looking for anything with potential to eat. He gave up on the idea of food and slammed the door shut. Once again the room went black. The sound of broken glass being crushed underneath weight permeated through the darkness. He quickly stormed out of the kitchen and saw his captive trying to run. He produced the gun he tucked into the waist of his blue jeans earlier.

"I told you to stay still. You can't blame me for your actions now."

He jogged over to her and overwhelmed her easily. He barely needed to touch her. One good shove was all it took to make her fall. She hit the ground hard cracking the side of her head. She groaned while her world blurred around
the edges.

"God you're an obnoxious little twat." Immanuel stooped to press the barrel of
his weapon against the back of her head.

She began to cry deeply. Her heavy sobs overcame the feint orchestral violin
music playing out of his expensive speaker system. She murmured a bunch of mostly incoherent babble. He only caught little pleads of mercy in between her wailing and other various utterances.

He continued speaking. "You tried to screw me out of my money and you
thought I wouldn't find out about it. You're not very intelligent."

Immanuel left her sobbing on the floor. He returned his weapon to its temporary holding tucked loosely against his abdomen. He savored watching her break down.
She crossed him where it mattered the most his money. Worse yet she thought she could get away with going behind his back after he generously took her into his world, into his family. He gave her a profession to help her in her home life because he felt sympathetic towards her.

"You see this is why I don't like getting involved with too many people. Time
and again you prove to me how worthless it is to give a shit. I swear I give and
give and my reward is pain. People generally let you down it's what they do
best. You're one of the liars."

Immanuel's phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked to see who decided to call him at this late of hour. To his displeasure it was one of his own. The only reason they might possibly even consider calling at this time due to some emergency. He had to take the call. He backed off his prisoner and connected the line. The words pushing through the invisible waves came through slightly garbled. The person trying to reach him seemed like they were standing in the middle of the rainstorm going on outside.

"What's up?" Immanuel asked the warbled voice.

At first Immanuel thought the call got cut. The stillness following his question made him start to lift his head off the phone screen. The voice snapped back into now clear reception. The woman he tied up rolled on the floor. Sharp pricks assaulted her soft skin. When Immanuel struck her he tossed her back to where the bottle shattered. The pieces of glass embedded into her while she writhed across them. She sucked in fast hissing breathes of air. It stung and itched together in the most unpleasant sensations.

"You're going to have to start making more sense brother." Immanuel said.

She managed to roll completely out of the sharp piles of glass hurting her. She laid on her back because her dizziness threatened to make her vomit. She watched the beautiful creature bathed in purple blue light. Many of his tattoos glowed brightly. The almost shimmering hues of the rainbow shining brighter than the surrounding lights themselves. Although he was incredibly handsome, right now his beauty almost disappeared behind the bright orange skull inked into his face. Under normal everyday wattage no one could see the special ink but under these entrancing party lights the detailed mask revealed itself.

"What did you do?" Immanuel with nothing better to occupy his body paced around. "Where are you?"

He seemed to be wholly enraged anew due to whatever he heard during his phone conversation. Her stomach began to cramp and quickly the pain escalated.

"Hold on. Shut your fucking mouth I'm on the phone!" He barked to his captive.
She moaned due to the building agony.

"What was that? What are you talking about this doesn't make any sense so try
again to make it clear to me." He answered the person on the other end of the
call. Immanuel glowered at the crying woman.

"Hurts." His victim said. "Please it hurts!" She vomited without warning.

Her throat and mouth filled with the bitter remnants of her last meal. One second she saw the nearly shapeless world and then her mind scattered. She began to convulse before Immanuel.

"Ok I'm coming. Stay low, wait for me." He hit the end call button.

Immanuel gingerly circumvented her. He hadn't really given her all that much to cause a seizure. Her eyes rolled up into their sockets, she was dying, probably choking on her own tongue and bile.

"I don't have time to save you. Perhaps the heavenly ones have decided to take mercy on you. This is a lot faster than I what had planned. I was going to drag it over the course of a few days."

Maybe just maybe she was having some kind of adverse effects against the drugs?
Maybe giving her head trauma didn't help either. Her whole body violently shook now;going into shock by the looks of it. Immanuel let a smile creep across his face. It kind of amused him watching her little funny dance.

He aimed the gun at her anew, clicked the hammer back and then pulled the trigger. Her face caved in where the bullet entered her forehead. Some of her gummy gray matter blew out the back of her head and pooled underneath her along with bits of shattered skull. When her forehead collapsed due to the bullet shredding through her, both of her eyes moved also. The bones of her brow and the upper parts of her eye sockets broke to cause this redistribution of features. Well she certainly wasn't pretty anymore. Her body still twitched on the ground. It continued to try to survive with half of her brain now coagulating on the hardwood. Immanuel laughed. In the end he still wanted to be the one to take her life. He earned the right to do so the moment she went behind his back. He got his way and she still continued to dance and it was still funny.

Short story by Boogie_Down
Read 927 times
Written on 2017-12-14 at 07:22

Tags Horror 

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ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Not bad not bad at all. Keep it up, Boogie_Down, let the words flow! Welcome to poetbay.
ken (d williams)