The Game

The air was thick as Monica opened her eyes, feeling restraints at her wrists and ankles. The table was cool beneath her, freshly cleansed of life's liquid; only to be re-stained once again. Like time and time again.

The cold steel had an unforgiving feel about it. It had seen death, it helped cause it. Monica's head turned and she let out a shrill scream at what she saw. Charlie on a table next to her, covered in lacerations and blood.

“Charlie!” She cried.

His dark green eyes flickered open. “Oh no. Not you too.”

She gave him a confused look.

“You trusted him didn't you?”

“Who?” She asked.

Charlie opened his mouth but was cut off when a voice from the corner said “Me.”

They both jumped and watched Mikey come out of the dark, twirling his butterfly knife.

“Mikey? Why would you do this?” Tears swelled in her eyes.

“He took you from me. You chose him over me. You broke my heart Monica. Now, I'm gonna break yours.” Venom dripped from his words.

“What?” She asked.
Mikey growled and cut across her small chest, leaving a thin red line as a warning.

She whimpered.

“All this time and you had no idea. MONICA I FUCKING LOVE YOU!” He screamed.

She flinched and stared in shock.

Mikey took a deep breath. “Now, we are going to play a game. If you want me to stop hurting you, tell me to 'kill her' or 'kill him'. The one who lives, wins.”

“Wins?” Charlie asked.

“I stop hurting you.”

“But we can't leave, or get patched up?”

Mikey smirked, no one ever realized that before.

“Nope.” he smirked.

“Now ladies first.” Monica quivered has he stood and the head of her table. She looked up at him with petrified eyes.

He slowly dragged the knife up her arm, from the back of her hand to her shoulder. She cried out in pain. Mikey walked over to Charlie. “Can I kill her?”

“No!” Mikey put the knife on the counter and picked up a blow torch. He put the mask on and turned on the gas.

Charlie screamed as the flame drew closer and closer, singing off his hair. Mikey took the flame to his lips, grinning behind the mask like the twisted fuck he was. He watched Charile's lips melt away, hearing the boys screams echo in the room.

Monica's eyes never left Mikey's masked face. He'd always been so polite, so nice and innocent. What happened? What made him this way?

Mikey removed the mask and put the torch down. “Can I kill Charlie?”

“No.” He picked up a bowie knife and cut open her shirt, down the middle. Cutting through her bra as well. Her ribs were slightly exposed, but not too much.

He grinned and carved MW into her stomach, smiling at her heart breaking scream.

But her cry did not break his heart, but it did make his pants feel tighter.

Ignoring his budding hard on, he went over to Charlie. “Can I kill Monica?”

“No!”
Mikey cut off Charlie's shirt and cut from his pelvis, to his throat deeply. “You should have backed off. You should have left her alone. You brought this on your self.” Mikey spit on his face. Charlie's blood raced in red streams down his sides and the table then dripped onto the floor. Forming a crimson puddle on the tile.

Mikey walked over to Monica's side. “Can I kill Charlie?”

“No.”

He skinned her collar bone, picking up the severed skin and putting it on her forehead. She watched in terror as her blood ran down her face and onto her chest. Her stomach burned as if on fire, like her skin was retreating from her body to crawl into a crack or crevice to avoid the agony.

“You should have told him to leave. You should have chosen me, my Monica.” Mikey caressed her face slowly, she cringed.

Anger flared in his hazel eyes. Without thinking he pulled the blade across her cheek bone. “I love you.” He said through clenched teeth.

She bit her lip as he moved on to Charlie's table. “Can I kill Monica?”

Unable to speak from lack of blood, Charlie shook his head.

Pulling up his gloves, Mikey jammed four of his fingers into one side of the cut, and the others in the other side. He yanked the skin, ripping it open until they lay like flaps on either side of the boy. With the rest of his energy, Charlie looked at Monica full of emotions she couldn't pick out.

Mikey smirked down at the boy's intestines. Seeing his ribs and lungs even. All his insides where in front of Mikey the death of this boy whom Monica loved made his jeans even tighter.

Blood ran down the flaps and poured onto the floor, covering it it the with, slippery substance. It ran out of the corner of Charlie's dead mouth.

“Funs over.” Mikey frowned as he walked back over to the trembling Monica.

“This is your fault you know. If you would have told him to fuck off, none of this would have happened.” He said softly, caressing her bleeding cheek wiping off the blood and removing the severed skin from her forehead.

She flinched at his touch. “You DOUBT MY LOVE?!” He screamed.

She screamed as he tore the shreds of her shirt and bra off, barring her to him. She blushed and cried.

“Please! Don't!” She cried as tears ran freely down her face, mixing with the blood on her chest.

“I FUCKING LOVE YOU MONICA! I'LL PROVE IT!”

He tore off her skirt and her panties and climbed over her.

“No!” She cried as she yanked at the restraints with all she had, ignoring the horrible pain in her stomach.

With determined eyes, Mikey slammed into her moving at a fast pace. She screamed until her throat burned, she yanked at her restraints ignoring when they cut into her skin.

Mikey's eyes burned with an emotion she couldn't identify as he continued to thrust into her, moaning quietly with his eyes closed.

His movements became sloppy and desperate, just before he shot his load into her with a loud groan.

He pulled out and watched the blood stream out of Monica's vagina.

He took her virginity. And was glad he did.

He watched her eyes flicker before she blacked out.