WEP: Deepest Regrets


My mind filled with a desire that I had stifled for the past eight months. It refused to take her screams for help any longer. The whimpers of her children only spurred it on. Their ungodly threats caused my stomach to twist in a way that not even the most forceful stretch could undo. My legs jiggled with anticipation of heeding my brain’s wishes, but there I sat. The dimly lit room, my scraps for food before me, and a rusty table set my only company. The enemy stood right behind the bolted steel door. I had access. I could surprise the five of them. My mind’s strong will whispered this avenue within my ears. But still, I sat.
Their laughter as they began their assault echoed heavy my mind’s call to action. I refused its desire and then it flooded me with images of the past eight months. The cheating on my wife of nine years, the drug use, the facilitation of theft, the murder of rival factions, and the assault on anyone who gave a hateful gaze our way. I justified it all. My mission had to come first. My brain knew that, but it had cracked. It had allowed some light to seep through the darkness that I had welcomed to overtake it. But I couldn’t allow it to get any brighter. This had to be done. All I endured could not be for nothing.
The door creaked and my hand grasped my fork. Even my limbs had begun to betray me. It swung open and out she ran, no more than fifteen. Her brother came behind her but quickly fell to the floor. Blood seeped from his head after one of them pounded it into the concrete. He then grinned at me and grabbed her by her grime-filled blonde hair. Her tears and cries for help drowned out the screams of her mother. He turned her to watch the assault through the door and then closed it ever so slowly. He tore her clothes from her shivering body and licked his lips.
That act. My mind. Neither mixed. Before I could force the light back I had already leaped from the table and plunged my fork into his throat. I covered his mouth and yanked it out, stabbing him again and again. She flopped to the floor, trying to wake her brother, while rocking back and forth to her mother’s cries. The door creaked again, I shoved the bloody fork into her hand and then dashed into the bathroom.
She screamed after another stepped through while I peeked from the door crack. He grabbed her and bent her over my table, shoving her face in what remained of my food. I took two steps from the room, grabbed what remained of her shirt, and wrapped it around his neck. The life seeped from him while his friends remained entertained by the orchestra of their mother’s screams.
Another’s satisfying sigh pierced my ears more than any scream. He strolled through the door, still enlarged, greeted by the fork in what remained of his enlargement. I pulled it out and shoved it into his throat. His screams recalled the other two from their assault, and I flopped to the floor. His blood seeped over me as my mind festered. It tried to convince me of this correct path, but its reasoning still failed to acknowledge the thousands.
Her whimpering as they bombarded her with vulgar language and herded her into the corner brought me from my stupor. My body had already reasoned my actions toward the large one. I flung the other off me and one hand used the fork to drive it into his neck while my other hand slammed the second’s head into the wall. They both tumbled and I wrapped my arms around the large one’s neck, pulling until it snapped.
My back cried out in pain as the last drove his heel into a former wound. The ceasing of my lower joints left me open for his assault. He grinned, the blood from his forehead merging with his exposed teeth, the stench of his predatory lust still upon him. He then grabbed my head and started to squeeze. My mind still insisted this avenue had been correct, even as I flailed my arms to try to free myself from his grasp.
My vision clouded, only able to see her as a blur. He freed me and reached his arms behind his head, trying to pull the fork from his back. She then jumped on his back and dug her nails into his throat. He smashed her up against the wall, but she refused to let go. My tingly leg sprawled into the air and kicked his shrunken appendage, causing him to topple over. She then grabbed his greasy hair in her hand and slammed his head into the concrete until it was mush.
She rolled off, tears seeping from her eyes while blood trickled from the scratches on her back. I dragged myself to her, trying to prevent her from catching any sight of her mother. But my body’s slowness failed me. She stood as stone while her mother’s beaten, lifeless body hung before her. She then bent down to her brother, flopping over on top of the bodies after finding no pulse. She pulled the fork from her victim and raised it to me as I neared. Her eyes told my mind all it needed to know. My arm reached for her, its speed matching my need to save her, stopping her from plunging it into her throat. I threw it aside and pulled her to me. Her nails dug into my back as she clung to it.
The light had beamed through my darkness but her light had been snuffed out. My mind still justified it, even as I reminded it that if my cover had been blown, thousands more would have their light snuffed out just like her.
Word Count: 997
And there we go. Another WEP done. Can sure suck to get in too deep. Guess it is better to dig only shallow holes, or leave the moles to make the holes. Thoughts at your sea? Feel free to share away.
Enjoy life, forget the strife.

36 Comments

Snowcatcher
2018-02-19 11:14:04 - Edit - Reply
Yikes. Nightmares I see coming again, man, do you have a dark side!!!
Pat Hatt
2018-02-19 21:07:43 - Edit - Reply
haha just flows out. Wait until a future novel at my sea.
Pat Garcia
2018-02-19 14:29:20 - Edit - Reply
Hi,
You have described the horrible war-ridden scenes of what is happening in many parts of this earth. Your descriptions are hard but so believable that it pains me to think of them.
Excellent descriptions.
Shalom aleichem,
Pat G
Pat Hatt
2018-02-19 21:08:15 - Edit - Reply
Awful that it takes place at all, let alone in so many places indeed.
Yolanda Renee
2018-02-19 16:02:34 - Edit - Reply
Was not expecting that this morning, but then again, it is your blog! Wow!
Dark isn’t even a description, but great job. Evil, you’ve got it’s description right here!
Pat Hatt
2018-02-19 21:08:49 - Edit - Reply
Sure a wake up call haha evil it sure is.

Hilary
2018-02-19 18:18:03 - Edit - Reply
Hi Pat – I’ve read this twice … and am so glad it’s morning. Sounds like a real medieval type gothic tale … too horrific – really in too deep. So well written … but I’ll stick to lighter things! Excellent entry …cheers Hilary
Pat Hatt
2018-02-19 21:09:35 - Edit - Reply
Staying in the light is a much better way to be. Never get in so deep.

Denise Covey
2018-02-20 04:00:25 - Edit - Reply
Evil, Pat, simply evil. The second mission story I’ve read today for WEP, but yours is dark to Pat G’s light. You had me hooked right from the start. I had to concentrate as it was a fast moving as an action scene in a movie, but I’m sure that’s exactly the effect you were conscious of creating. It’s so sad that scenes like these aren’t fictional in many war-torn countries. Poor people. My heart goes out to them and you’ve just reminded that the suffering of so many goes unnoticed.
As always, thanks for letting your wild imagination loose for the WEP challenge. Whatever will you come up with for The Road Less Traveled?
Denise
Pat Hatt
2018-02-20 10:35:18 - Edit - Reply
The wheels have already turned for the next haha
Yeah, it moved fast indeed. Awful that such things happen in real life for sure.

desk49
2018-02-20 04:19:16 - Edit - Reply
In too deep
a bloody trail you left behind.
Pat Hatt
2018-02-20 10:35:41 - Edit - Reply
Sure one there for all to beware
nidhi
2018-02-20 06:05:22 - Edit - Reply
@Pat
What goes around comes around. Life is like that. Grasping story and took me to so many places at a time.
Pat Hatt
2018-02-20 10:36:02 - Edit - Reply
Things sure can come back to bite one indeed

adura
2018-02-20 11:31:45 - Edit - Reply
Hi Pat
What a story! Fast paced, engrossing.
Well done.
Pat Hatt
2018-02-20 21:26:04 - Edit - Reply
Glad it was enjoyed!

Deborah Drucker
2018-02-20 22:06:51 - Edit - Reply
Everyone killed except the narrator. Seems that killing their captors did not help them at all.
Pat Hatt
2018-02-21 00:00:47 - Edit - Reply
Tough all the way around.

Olga Godim
2018-02-21 00:17:22 - Edit - Reply
Yikes! Horror at its worst/best. Poor guy.
Pat Hatt
2018-02-21 10:30:35 - Edit - Reply
Worst/best works for me
dolorah at Book Lover
2018-02-21 05:12:02 - Edit - Reply
Viscious!! And a tough decision, to save an innocent or sacrifice them for the larger good. Would suck to be that guy.
Pat Hatt
2018-02-21 10:30:10 - Edit - Reply
Would sure suck to be him indeed

Nilanjana Bose
2018-02-21 08:28:29 - Edit - Reply
This was like a series of images that one can’t tear away from, horrific is not enough, pure evil. Certainly did the prompt justice. Bravo!
Pat Hatt
2018-02-21 10:31:09 - Edit - Reply
pure evil haha what does that say about me? hmmm lol

L.G. Keltner
2018-02-21 13:55:30 - Edit - Reply
Saying this is dark doesn’t do it justice. Horrifying beyond words might work better. You’ve vividly portrayed a situation I hope to never experience. Well done!
Pat Hatt
2018-02-21 21:57:47 - Edit - Reply
Yeah, no one wants to experience such a situation indeed.
Christopher
2018-02-21 18:40:24 - Edit - Reply
A dark story that takes the phrase ‘actions speaker louder then words,’ and runs into the darkness. Bringing all the violence and suffering it can along for the ride. Great story.
Pat Hatt
2018-02-21 21:58:26 - Edit - Reply
Sure brought it all in. Glad it was enjoyed.
DG Hudson
2018-02-22 01:54:44 - Edit - Reply
Abuse of the weaker or those on the opposing side seems to endure as one of the spoils of war or crime. It’s a harsh world for many, as your story depicts. I like using the fork with it’s pointy prongs, and the way the ‘enlightened’ man dispatches a few rotten humans. . .that’s survival thinking, using what you have. A story like this catches the reader by the throat and makes him damn glad that he’s not in the scene. . .well done!
Pat Hatt
2018-02-22 10:31:08 - Edit - Reply
Have to use what you have available indeed. True, damn glad not to be in the scene.

Toi Thomas
2018-02-22 02:34:32 - Edit - Reply
This is painful to read, yet so compelling. It’s violent, to say the least, but at least there is meaning to it. What an intricate tale of evil… It feels so real, too real. Hope I don’t have nightmares.
Good story.
Pat Hatt
2018-02-22 10:31:39 - Edit - Reply
No nightmares is good not to have haha
Elizabeth Otten
2018-02-22 06:46:02 - Edit - Reply
That’s a great portrayal of a violent situation. Interesting choice of weapon. I like how even in the midst of darkness for so long, he still wanted to let the light shine through.
Pat Hatt
2018-02-22 10:32:15 - Edit - Reply
I contemplated a knife, but that would have been a bit easier.
J Lenni Dorner
2018-02-24 05:33:47 - Edit - Reply
Great job getting another WEP story written!
This was a good one. Nice work.
Pat Hatt
2018-02-24 11:39:10 - Edit - Reply
Glad it was grand here in our land

Comments