The SICK Chronicles: An Anthology of Extreme Violence and Gore

by Nelson Samuels

  THE SICK CHRONICLES

  BY NELSON SAMUELS

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  INNOCENCE LOST

  PART I: SICK

  INTERVENTION

  WHORE

  DONKEY

  BLUE

  XXX

  SPOONING

  WHITE

  DAYCARE

  SCISSORS

  PART II: AMANDA BELL

  TAXI

  HANGER

  PORK

  RAZOR

  MARY

  FORGIVEN

  REDEMPTION

  HERETIC DISORDER

  PART III

  ENGAGE

  AFFAIR

  ABUSED

  BEGIN

  HYPOCRITE

  ANGIE

  HIT

  DECEPTION

  FREE

  EMPTY

  SAVIOR

  RESOLUTION

  PART IV

  CASEY MORGAN: A CHILD’S TALE

  PART V

  THE UNBURDENING

  PART VI

  IN DEATH

  PART VII

  AFTERBIRTH

  INNOCENCE LOST

  PART I

  SICK

  INTERVENTION

  As the evening sun set outside, Father Nathan, the white haired, sixty-five-year-old priest of the local Catholic Church clutches the rosary in his right hand and his worn Bible in his left. Entering the young boy's bedroom, he wonders if the young nun beside him, Sister Sarah, is up for the task of assisting him on another exorcism. He looks over at her, noticing a lock of her blonde hair slightly sticking out of her habit. At twenty-five, Sister Sarah is beautiful, and anyone would say that, even a celibate priest. He'd never admit to having unnatural thoughts about her, but of course he had. The things he would do to her if he were allowed. He begins to get an erection, so he quickly changes his thought process back to the task at hand.

  "Are you ready, Sister?" he asks as he places his hand on the knob of the door.

  "I am, Father," she reluctantly responds.

  He looks at her, "Well then, let's go get rid of a demon."

  As they enter the room, they notice Junior, a fifteen year old young man tied securely to his bed in the center of the room. To his left is a nightstand, and on his right sitting in a chair, is his pregnant mother Michelle. Father Nathan nods at Michelle, and then looks over to the far left corner of the room where Junior's father, Sean, is standing, and gives him the same nod. Sean is tall, with gaunt features, and a beard on his cheeks that make him look more stern than worried. Like everyone in the room, he knows what has to be done. This nightmare has gone on long enough. It has to end. Tonight.

  Father Nathan opens his Bible and begins to read a passage from it. He removes a small bottle of holy water from his pocket and begins to splash it on Junior. He closes the Bible. "The power of Christ compels you to come out of this boy, demon!” he says.

  Junior looks up at him and laughs, responding, "Really, Father? Well, the power of Christ compels you to shut the fuck up!"

  Sister Sarah looks at Father Nathan. "What do we do now, Father?"

  Junior looks over at her, "I'll tell you what I'm going to do, Sister," He smiles. "When I get loose from here, I’m going to poke out your eyes and fuck the sockets nice and slow." He smiles as Sister Sarah stares at him in shock. "You'd like that wouldn't you, you dirty bitch?" He looks over at Father Nathan, "Or would you rather take my place, Father?"

  Father Nathan splashes on more holy water responding, "Tell me your name demon!"

  "My name is go fuck yourself!" says Junior, chuckling. With a sick, wet heave a crimson gout of frothy blood spews from his open mouth., splashing all over the nun. Sister Sarah runs from the room.

  Father Nathan looks down at Junior as he walks over to Michelle, who's crying uncontrollably. "God damn you, demon. God damn you to hell."

  “We’re already there.” Junior responds. “Can't you smell the brimstone?”

  “I think a break is needed for now. Let's go in the hall and talk." Father Nathan says as he ushers the parents into the hall. The priest pulls the door shut behind him.

  Sean scratches his head, looking at Father Nathan. "What’s next?" he asks.

  "We keep trying. We just keep trying," says Father Nathan wearily.

  Sister Sarah continues to wipe the blood from her face. Michelle assists her.

  As they all stand in the hall, a knock is heard at the front door. The three exchange looks.

  "Are you expecting anyone?" ask Father Nathan.

  "No we're not. Are we, Sean?" Michelle glances at Sean with concern. She realizes this is not a good time for company.

  "No. I'll get rid of them." Sean says walking down the hall and toward the front door.

  Standing at the door, the knocks continue. "Who is it?" Sean asks.

  "I need to use your phone if I can." A woman's voice. "My cell isn't working and I’m broke down just down the road." Sean is silent for a moment. "Hello?" she says.

  "Umm..." Sean cracks the door to see a woman who appears to be in her mid twenties, short black hair, fair skin, with a medium build standing there slightly wet from the drizzle of rain outside. "Okay. Just make it quick."

  "Name’s Angie, and I will. Thanks a bunch."

  Sean turns his back and motions toward the phone. "The phone's right there. Help yourself." Angie walks in, but following closely behind her are two men. It’s too late when Sean turns back around and notices them.

  One of the men pulls out a handgun and places it to Sean's forehead. "Be cool, man, or I'll blow your fucking head off."

  Sean places his hands in the air. "Yeah, alright. What do you want?"

  "I want you to shut the fuck up and sit down." he pushes Sean down in the chair next to the phone. Angie shuts the door and the other guy just stands there silently, holding onto a duffle bag. "Angie, tie him up." Angie removes a roll of duct tape from the bag and ties him to the chair. With his hands now tied behind his back, all Sean can do is sit there. "Who else is here with you?"

  "Just my wife," Sean says, hoping the others will hide and keep quiet.

  "Where is she?" asks the guy.

  "I don't know," Sean says.

  "Don't fucking tell me that, motherfucker. You don't know where your wife is in your own home?" he says, beginning to grow angry.

  "Come out, come out, wherever you are!" says the other guy.

  "Yeah, good idea, Scott,” says Angie with a sarcastic look on her face.

  "Well, what would you do bitch?" asks Scott.

  "Fucking go look, you idiot," says Angie. Michelle, Father Nathan, and Sister Sarah all come into the room from out of the hallway, having heard the commotion going on in the other room. Michelle screams, Father Nathan places his hands in the air, and Sister Sarah places her hands over her mouth.

  “Holy fuck. Look what we have here, Brandon. We have more than a wife I see." Angie points a gun toward them.

  "Y'all come the fuck over here and sit down." Brandon points his gun toward them as well and motions for them to all come to where he had just tied up Sean. "Angie, Scott, tie them up too." Angie and Scott place them in a row against the wall, seated on the floor next to Sean who’s still seated and tied to the chair.

  "What do you want from us?" asks Sean.

  "We were bored, and decided we wanted to have a party. You do like parties don't you, love?" asks Angie.

  "What?" asks Sean.

  "A party, you stupid fuck. We picked you to host our fucking party. Now are you going to party with us, or are we going to have to par
ty without you?" Brandon asks as he places the gun to Sean's head again.

  "No, we like parties," Michelle says through the tears.

  "Good then. Smart girl." He puts his gun back down and looks at Scott. "Get out the party hats." Scott reaches into the duffle bag and removes blue conical paper hats, placing one on the head of each person, and then themselves.

  "Now it's a fucking party," Angie says. "Who wants to play a party game?" She pulls out a knife and a handkerchief. "Pin the tail on the donkey is a good one." She smiles. "So who's gonna be my donkey?"

  WHORE

  School was out for the summer. At 2:14 on a Monday morning, Angie’s Father was knocked out cold in the living room, drunk as usual. Her mother was still not home from earning her night’s wages giving blow jobs to what she assumed were random strangers on the street. A fourteen-year-old Angie awoke to her older brother Brandon in her room.

  “Angie. Are you awake?” Brandon asked as he tapped her on the leg.

  “I am now.” she said as she sat up in bed wiping her eyes. “What do you want?”

  “I just wanted to see what you were doing.” he said as he began to touch her leg, rubbing it up and down.

  “Stop that.” She pushed his hand away.

  “Why? We’re brother and sister. It’s okay.” he said trying to convince her that what he was trying to do was justified. Angie knew what was going on, but didn’t know why. She did, however, know that there was no need to fight it. Brandon was three years older than her, and, while he wasn't particularly strong, his three hundred pounds, earned from the constant stream of junk food he ate, would be more than she could fight off.

  “No, it’s not okay. I don’t want to do this.” Angie said. Her pleas went unheard as Brandon removed her clothes and got on top of her. She didn’t scream, and she didn’t fight him. He moved around on her as if he were a large hog playing in a mud puddle. She lay there and gave in. She figured it would be over with soon enough, and she was right. Just as soon as it started, it was over. He rolled off of her and pulled his underwear back up.

  “Don’t worry, sis.” Brandon said, “I pulled out. You shouldn’t get pregnant.” He turned and walked out of the room. Angie got out of bed and cleaned up the mess. She put her clothes back on, and climbed back into bed. The night was almost over. Tomorrow was a new day. Angie prayed it would never happen again, but she had vastly underestimated how horny a teenage boy could be. A relationship formed between she and her Brother. He came in the night and stole her innocence, but he left with her heart.

  Years later, in High School, she was known as “Angie tug or fuck”. It became known rather quickly that if you took her out on a date and treated her nice enough, at the conclusion, you'd either receive a tug or a fuck. Most guys however, if they knew Angie well enough, preferred the tug on the dick, over the fuck. Angie had quite a reputation for making herself available sexually to just about anyone who wanted her, and there was no telling what unknown diseases she was riddled with. Not many guys were willing to take a chance on putting their dick in her. However, the really horny, and most of the football team, didn't seem to mind at all. Sometimes all at once. She wasn't picky. Bring her a dick, and she'd pretty much do what you wanted her to with it. She could thank her Brother and genetics for making her the whore she had become since that lonely Saturday night. She was the best ride at the fair, and everyone got a turn.

  DONKEY

  “You. Get up.” Angie says as she points to Sean. “You’re my donkey.” Brandon cuts Sean free with his pocket knife and he stands up out of the chair. “You look like a bit of an ass. So I think you’ll fit the part just fine for this game.” She smiles.

  “What are you going to do to me?” ask Sean nervously.

  “Brandon, do you want to go first?” ask Angie as she places Sean against the wall with his face inward, hands still tied behind his back.

  “Yeah, I’ll give it a go.” Brandon says as he lights a cigarette.

  “Here, you’ll need this.” Angie hands him a much larger knife than the one he was carrying and handkerchief. She pulls Sean’s pants down exposing his bare backside. She looks at Brandon. “Well, put it on.” she says as she motions toward the hand holding the handkerchief. Sean begins to struggle and Angie grabs a revolver from behind her that was tucked inside her pants, and places it to his head. “Don’t fucking move. Do you think this is a fucking game?” she ask and begins to giggle. “Well I guess it kind of is, huh?” Sean quits struggling and begins to stand still. Angie puts the gun away.

  Brandon places the handkerchief over his eyes. “I’m ready,” he says.

  “Why are you doing this to us?” ask Sister Sarah through her tears.

  “Shut up, you cunt!” says Scott. Sister Sarah puts her head down as Scott looks at Angie. “Do I get a turn?” ask Scott. Angie grabs Brandon by the shoulders and begins to spin him in circles. Brandon has the knife in his right hand. She quits spinning him around and he’s now facing the opposite direction from Sean.

  “We’ll see, Scott. Now pin the tail on that motherfucking donkey Brandon!” Angie says as she laughs. Brandon lunges the knife forward and misses Sean’s backside.

  “Dammit.” says Brandon realizing he had missed.

  “You missed!” says Scott laughing.

  “I know that, you fucking idiot.” Brandon says in response to Scott.

  “Try again,” says Angie beginning to spin Brandon around again.

  “Please stop this! I’m begging you. Please!” Michelle pleas, but is ignored as she continues to cry.

  “Spin, spin, spin,” says Angie. As she stops spinning, Brandon is now facing Sean in the correct direction. “Alright Brandon, pin the tail on that donkey,” she says as she laughs. Brandon lunges the knife forward stabbing Sean in the left cheek of his backside. Sean screams out in pain and nearly goes down into the floor as his knees buckle under him. Scott and Angie laugh, as everyone else in the room screams and cries in a panic at the scene they are witnessing.

  “Did I get him?” Brandon ask as he lifts the handkerchief on one side looking at his accomplishment. “Fuck yeah I did,” he says as he lets out a cheer of joy.

  “Please stop!” Sean begs.

  “Again!” Angie says. Brandon puts the handkerchief back down. “Stand up straight.” She tells Sean grabbing him by the arm and lifting him up. Sean begins to bleed badly from the wound and into the floor. Angie looks down and notices the blood. “Damn. You’re quite the bleeder aren’t you? Just don’t get it on my shoes.” She begins to spin Brandon around again. “Spin, spin, spin.”

  “I want a go at it,” says Scott from the back of the room.

  “Be quiet!” Brandon says. “It’s still my turn!”

  “We’ll see Scott.” Angie says. “Let Brandon have his go first.”

  “Please!” Sean begs. “Please, I beg of you!” Brandon stops spinning and lunges the knife forward hitting Sean in the same cheek of his backside. Sean falls into the floor.

  “I got him!” Brandon shouted in excitement. “I got that motherfucker again!”

  “Yay for Brandon!” Angie says as she claps her hands and gives Brandon a kiss. “Game over! You’re the winner!”

  “But I didn’t get a turn !” Scott says walking toward Angie.

  “You can participate in the next game Scott. I promise.” Angie says.

  “You really promise?” Scott ask.

  “Yes. I really promise.” Angie says as she walks Scott back over to where he was standing by the wall. Brandon removes the handkerchief from his eyes and looks down at Sean who is on the floor crying and bleeding excessively more than he was before. A pool of his own blood had formed around him.

  “I ain’t done playing.” Brandon says as he takes the knife and begins to stab it into Sean’s backside repeatedly. Sean screams out in agonizing pain. “Is that fun buddy? Huh?” Brandon asks as he continues to stab Sean. Sean defecates into the floor. “Fuck you man!” Brandon says as he steps back from the
puddle of feces. “This son of a bitch just shit himself.” Angie turns around and sees what has happened.

  “Really?” Angie ask as she walks over and looks at Sean lying on the floor. “Well I’ll be damned. I reckon he did.”

  “Our Father Which Art in Heaven..” Father Nathan says as he begins to pray aloud.

  “Oh, here we go. Church ain’t until Sunday, Father.” Angie says. “We’ve already got enough shit in here without you spewing more out of your mouth.” She says as she pauses for a moment looking at Brandon and smiling.

  “That gives me an idea for our next game guys,” she says as she looks at Scott. “Go into the kitchen and find a cup and a spoon. You’ve got some shit to clean up off the floor.”

  BLUE

  Angie was the leader of the three. She called the shots of what they did and didn’t do in their day to day activities, and was more than qualified to.. Scott, who was the shortest of the family at only five foot four, was mentally handicapped, and two years younger than Angie. He had the mental capacity of a ten year old, and it often caused communication problems between the three siblings. Angie was the middle child. Their father was an abusive alcoholic, and their mother an abusive whore. Growing up to be a scholar wasn't in the cards for any of them.