Sweet Charlotte
finally, i have you with me.
He was able to take her without anyone noticing. It was a quiet and very easy escape, too. The cloth that he had stuffed in her mouth had made her unconscious, so taking her out of the place was going to be easy as well. It was all going perfectly, he thought. Finally, after years of plotting, he's finally got what he wanted in his arms.
There was no sign of life as he walked through the dark hallways of the place, it was almost as if the place was dead; no one was in there, or at least, no one was at the hallways he was going through. It was peculiar. He left through the back of the hospital, an exit that most people don't use.
He quickly walked to his car, and as he put Charlotte into his car, he was going to make sure that no one was ever going to see her again.
-
She finally woke up. It felt as if she had been asleep for ages. Her arm was throbbing in pain, and the blood that was on it was now all dried up. She felt heavy, weak. Her body hurt all over. She was bruised at different parts of her body. She looked around and noticed that she was in a different room than hers back at the hospital.
The four-sided wall had a torn, brown wallpaper that was splattered with crimson blood splatters in some spots. There were bloody hand prints on the wall, too. The floor was wooden, and some boards were flimsy and loose. They creaked with whatever step someone took. The room smelled of rotten water, and dead bodies. It was the sanctuary of where he would take his victims and kill them, making masks of some sort with their own body parts.
It was a barely furnished room, only having an operation table at the back of the room, and a shelf full of tools used for opening and cutting his victims.
“Rain, rain, go away, come again some other day...” She started to sing happily, yet through her drowsy state, she sounded weak. She smiled lazily while looking out the window.
“We want to go outside and play... come again some other day,” She finished. Her smile widened. The rain was pouring harder and harder. It hit the windowsill, making loud thumping sounds.
As she tried to get up, the pain from her lower region finally revealed itself, and she fell back down to the cement floor roughly. “Ah,” she yelled. She was wondering what happened and why she was in pain in that area; a place where her mother had once told her was “something no one should touch.”
“Hello?” Her childish voice called out. There was a loud clank before the heavy door was unlocked and Bobby stepped in.
“I see you're awake,” He said.
“Uncle Bobby,” Charlotte said. “What's going on?”
“Nothing, my dear Charlotte, nothing at all.” He walked up to her, kneeling down beside her. Once he was close to her, he stroked her cheek, looking into her eyes.
“You have such beautiful eyes, Charlotte.” He told her. “They're so blue... like the ocean; has anyone told you that?” She shook her head. He was leaning closer, and her breathing was becoming heavier. She'd never seen him so forward and direct before. She wondered why he was acting like this, and she thought about how her mother had once told her to stay away from him.
“And those lips of yours... my, they're so plump, and perfect.” She didn't know this was wrong, she had the mentality of a child, and her mother had yet to teach her about that type of stuff, but she was still feeling uncomfortable around him, and she took that as a bad sign.
“Uncle Bobby,” Charlotte's voice shook as she spoke. “Mommy told me not to talk to you.”
He ignored her and began to help her stand up. She yelped as the heavy, painful feeling came back. “Sorry about that.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing.” He was leading her to that operation table he had used so many times before.
“What are you doing?”
“Just stay quiet, Charlotte.” He told her. “I'm going to help you.” The way he told her brought a sense of fear over her. They finally reached the table and he lifted her up, laying her on her back.
“It's going to be quick... nothing is going to hurt.” She exhaled heavily before he injected a needle into her, and in the blink-of-an-eye, she was feeling drowsy again. She looked back at the window. “You just need to fall asleep so I can fix you, okay?” She nodded feebly.
She started to sing again: “Rain, rain, go away, come again some other day.” Her eyelids were starting to shut, and a smile grew on his face once he noticed she was about to fall asleep. “We want to go outside and play... come again some other day,” She smiled once again, proud that she had finally gotten the song remembered. She always sang the song when it was raining, Bobby noticed.
“Goodnight, Uncle Bobby.”
“Goodbye, Charlotte.” Bobby told her, once he finally injected the last bit of anesthesia into her arm. He made sure to inject her with an excessive amount of anesthesia, too, so she would, hopefully, overdose. Once she was finally asleep--or maybe dead--he had no clue, Bobby took the cutting knife from the tray that held the so many operation tools he used before, and, finally, he made his first incision. Like he had done with so many other people before.
There was no sign of life as he walked through the dark hallways of the place, it was almost as if the place was dead; no one was in there, or at least, no one was at the hallways he was going through. It was peculiar. He left through the back of the hospital, an exit that most people don't use.
He quickly walked to his car, and as he put Charlotte into his car, he was going to make sure that no one was ever going to see her again.
-
She finally woke up. It felt as if she had been asleep for ages. Her arm was throbbing in pain, and the blood that was on it was now all dried up. She felt heavy, weak. Her body hurt all over. She was bruised at different parts of her body. She looked around and noticed that she was in a different room than hers back at the hospital.
The four-sided wall had a torn, brown wallpaper that was splattered with crimson blood splatters in some spots. There were bloody hand prints on the wall, too. The floor was wooden, and some boards were flimsy and loose. They creaked with whatever step someone took. The room smelled of rotten water, and dead bodies. It was the sanctuary of where he would take his victims and kill them, making masks of some sort with their own body parts.
It was a barely furnished room, only having an operation table at the back of the room, and a shelf full of tools used for opening and cutting his victims.
“Rain, rain, go away, come again some other day...” She started to sing happily, yet through her drowsy state, she sounded weak. She smiled lazily while looking out the window.
“We want to go outside and play... come again some other day,” She finished. Her smile widened. The rain was pouring harder and harder. It hit the windowsill, making loud thumping sounds.
As she tried to get up, the pain from her lower region finally revealed itself, and she fell back down to the cement floor roughly. “Ah,” she yelled. She was wondering what happened and why she was in pain in that area; a place where her mother had once told her was “something no one should touch.”
“Hello?” Her childish voice called out. There was a loud clank before the heavy door was unlocked and Bobby stepped in.
“I see you're awake,” He said.
“Uncle Bobby,” Charlotte said. “What's going on?”
“Nothing, my dear Charlotte, nothing at all.” He walked up to her, kneeling down beside her. Once he was close to her, he stroked her cheek, looking into her eyes.
“You have such beautiful eyes, Charlotte.” He told her. “They're so blue... like the ocean; has anyone told you that?” She shook her head. He was leaning closer, and her breathing was becoming heavier. She'd never seen him so forward and direct before. She wondered why he was acting like this, and she thought about how her mother had once told her to stay away from him.
“And those lips of yours... my, they're so plump, and perfect.” She didn't know this was wrong, she had the mentality of a child, and her mother had yet to teach her about that type of stuff, but she was still feeling uncomfortable around him, and she took that as a bad sign.
“Uncle Bobby,” Charlotte's voice shook as she spoke. “Mommy told me not to talk to you.”
He ignored her and began to help her stand up. She yelped as the heavy, painful feeling came back. “Sorry about that.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing.” He was leading her to that operation table he had used so many times before.
“What are you doing?”
“Just stay quiet, Charlotte.” He told her. “I'm going to help you.” The way he told her brought a sense of fear over her. They finally reached the table and he lifted her up, laying her on her back.
“It's going to be quick... nothing is going to hurt.” She exhaled heavily before he injected a needle into her, and in the blink-of-an-eye, she was feeling drowsy again. She looked back at the window. “You just need to fall asleep so I can fix you, okay?” She nodded feebly.
She started to sing again: “Rain, rain, go away, come again some other day.” Her eyelids were starting to shut, and a smile grew on his face once he noticed she was about to fall asleep. “We want to go outside and play... come again some other day,” She smiled once again, proud that she had finally gotten the song remembered. She always sang the song when it was raining, Bobby noticed.
“Goodnight, Uncle Bobby.”
“Goodbye, Charlotte.” Bobby told her, once he finally injected the last bit of anesthesia into her arm. He made sure to inject her with an excessive amount of anesthesia, too, so she would, hopefully, overdose. Once she was finally asleep--or maybe dead--he had no clue, Bobby took the cutting knife from the tray that held the so many operation tools he used before, and, finally, he made his first incision. Like he had done with so many other people before.