by Tim Miller
Curse of the Gut Ripper
Tim Miller
Copyright © 2015 Tim Miller
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. The following is a work of fiction. Any representation of any actual persons living or dead is coincidental.
Cover image provided by MadMaskman
Chapter 1
Buddy Hansen loaded up the SUV as his girlfriend Katie Rock stood around chatting with their friends John Lepper, his girlfriend Dawn Dewey, Peter Ledson and Susan Andes. The six of them had been planning this trip for months; well, the other five had. Going hiking through Texas hill country in July wasn't Buddy's idea of a fun time, but he could never tell Katie no.
"You almost ready?" Katie asked.
"I would've been done a while ago if I had some help. You guys seem just to want to stand around jerking each other off."
"Whatever!" They piled into the Expedition as Buddy climbed into the driver's seat. It was going to be a long drive, but he had no doubt it would be fun. John, Dawn, Peter and Susan were friends of theirs from college. They hadn't seen any of them in almost ten years, so the weekend getaway was a great idea. Though Buddy thought spending a weekend on Sixth Street in Austin would be more fun than hiking. But Katie the health nut insisted on hiking.
John and Dawn were into things like hiking, rock climbing, and even skydiving. Peter and Susan were known to go SCUBA diving in various parts of the world. Buddy was kind of the oddball among the bunch. He'd rather watch a football game than climb rocks or jump out of a perfectly good aircraft.
"So, Buddy," John asked. "You know much about this place we are going?"
"Only that it's hot, and there's lots of rocks."
"You mean Conner's Grove?" Katie asked.
"Yeah, Conner's Grove. You never heard about the people killed there?"
"Oh Christ," Buddy said. "People killed, how? Snakes? Heat exhaustion?"
"No. The Gut Ripper!"
"What?" The girls said in unison.
"Shut the fuck up," Buddy said.
"I'm fuckin' serious! I googled it. It's this old legend there. Supposedly, years ago, some guys were hunting out there; they got lost or something, and one of them flipped out. He killed everyone in his party and cut them wide open, ripping all their guts out. When authorities found them, their intestines and entrails were scattered all over the place."
"That is so gross," Dawn said.
"That's not all," John continued. "So years later, another group of campers was found dead, all their guts ripped out. Happens every few years."
"Bullshit," Buddy said. "Then why is it never on the news?"
"Are you fuckin' serious? You can't believe the lamestream media dude. That's nothing but spoon-fed, corporate bullshit for all the little sheeple. You have to look beyond that to find the real truth."
"Like what? Where did you hear all this?"
"This cool website called Texasurbanlegends.com. Some crazy shit on there dude. They did a story about some secret club for rich people who tortures people for fun a few years ago. Crazy...crazy shit!"
"Yeah, that sounds like a real legit site," Buddy said. "Did you check any of that with Snopes?"
"Snopes?" John laughed. "Dude, fuck Snopes. They are corporate shills owned by the Bush family. You know what that means?"
"Um, I give up."
"Illuminati." John waved his finger as he said it to dramatize the point.
"Oh my God you are so full of shit," Buddy said. "Did you bring a tinfoil hat?"
"Fuck you, man. Call me crazy if you want. Look this shit up for yourself. Stop being such a sheeple."
"So, when was the last time that this Gut Licker guy killed someone?" Katie asked.
"Gut Ripper," John corrected. "Two or three years ago, a couple on their honeymoon decided to go camping. He trashed their campsite, and they were found with their stomachs all ripped up. The girl was hanging upside down from a tree with her entrails wrapped around her corpse. Was a really sickening site."
"You saw it?"
"Just pictures online. Go to Liveleak.com and you can find all kinds of sick shit," John explained.
"So, if there is some wild killer on the loose there, why are we going?"
"Why not? You scared?"
"I'm not scared. I'm not the one talking about Jason Voorhees stomping through the woods hacking people up."
"Jason's got nothing on this guy, dude. This guy is a monster. And he's for real."
"This is creeping me out," Susan said after being quite this whole time. "Maybe we should just go to Austin."
"Yeah, Austin would be cool," Dawn said.
"See?" Buddy said, smiling. "Not too late."
"No. We are not going to Austin over some crazy urban legend. Let's just get to Connor's Grove and have fun. There isn't any weird killer going to hurt us." Katie scolded. "We've planned this for months. Besides, John is just trying to scare you all. We're all a little old to be scared of campfire stories."
"You never know…" John said.
"Doesn't matter, we're almost here," Buddy said as they passed a Conner's Grove sign. In just under an hour, they arrived. Buddy pulled the SUV to a remote spot and climbed out to stretch his legs. Peter, who had been asleep most of the trip, stepped out and looked around.
"Wow, we're here already?" he said. "That was fast."
"You slept the whole time," Susan said. "Plus you missed the horror stories."
"What horror story?"
"Nothing," Buddy said. "Just some stuff about Katie's cooking."
Katie punched him in the arm as she climbed out of the truck. Once they were out, they began unloading.
"Should we head out tonight, still?" John asked.
"I'm exhausted. I say we set up camp and head out in the morning. It will be dark here soon."
"Sounds good to me," Katie agreed as they dug out the tents and sleeping bags and began setting up. They joked and laughed as they set up the tents while Peter got the grill set up and loaded the chicken and sausages to cook. What none of them noticed was the man watching them from behind some large rocks less than one hundred feet away. The man held an ax in his right hand, and both he and the ax were quite real.
Chapter 2
Peter lay in the tent looking at Susan, who was reading a paperback while holding a flashlight to the side.
"We came all the way out here so you could just sit here and read?"
"Sorry. I'm just tired. Was a long drive today."
"We both slept most of the way."
"I know, but it was all cramped up in the car. What did you want to do anyway? Not like there's a bar out here."
Going out was their thing on the weekends and even weeknights. In between their adventures, Peter loved to hit the town. Though watching Susan lie on top of her sleeping bag wasn't the worst thing. Since it was the middle of summer, even at night it was plenty warm and humid. She'd stripped down to a tank top and booty shorts. The tank top hugged her breasts just right; even in the low light her nipples were plenty visible.
"I can think of one thing we could do," he said as he rolled over and slid his hand across her stomach, sliding it under her tank top. She put the book down.
"And just what do you think you're doing?" she asked teasingly.
"Nothin."
"It doesn't feel like nothing. It feels like, oooh." She rolled her head back as he pulled her shirt up and put his mouth over her breast; the
nipples hardened instantaneously. He nibbled it gently while flicking it with his tongue. She let out a sigh as she pulled the tank top all the way off. He kissed along her chest as she ran her fingers through his hair, pressing his face deeper into her warmth.
He slid up and began kissing her. He ran his hands up and down her body as their tongues massaged each one another. She slid her hand down the front of his shorts, taking his stiff cock into her hands and rubbing it, feeling it throb in her fingertips. Peter thought he was going to pop just from her touch. His cock twitched and throbbed in her hands with each of her gentle movements.
He began sliding her panties down when she stopped.
"What was that?" she asked.
"What was what?"
"That noise."
"I didn't hear anything," he said as he leaned in again, but she pushed him away. He rolled his eyes and stood.
"What did you hear? It's probably John or Buddy walking around."
"I don't think so. It sounded like somebody breathing."
"Can we just…"
"Shhh!" she said. They both sat there quietly and listened. "There it was! You hear it? Someone is outside!"
"I think John had you spooked with his little horror story."
"Shut up. Will you check it out?'
"Are you fucking serious?"
"Yes, I'm serious."
"Why don't you go look? You're the one who heard it."
"Cause you're the man. Quit acting like such a pussy."
"Fine. Whatever. Guess you really weren't in the mood. Most girls just say they have a headache."
"Whatever. Just make sure some maniac isn't out there with a chainsaw or some shit, please?"
"Fine."
He didn't even bother putting pants on. He just slipped his shoes on and unzipped the tent to step out into the night air. Part of him thought he should take a weapon or something but didn't have anything handy. Next to the tent, one of the hammers they used to pound the stakes in was lying there. He grabbed it and wandered around the tent. There was nothing in sight. No footprints or heavy breathing of any kind. The other tents were all quiet as they were asleep like normal people after such a long day.
He walked around each tent and figured it was safe to go back inside and, at least, get some sleep since he was obviously not going to be getting laid. Before going in, he walked to some bushes about a hundred feet from the tent and took a piss. Once he finished, he walked back to the tent only to find it had collapsed. He looked around, but the others were still in place.
"Susan? What's going on?" he said. He walked around and picked up parts of the tent, but there was no reason it should have collapsed unless Susan was fucking with him. He walked around further from the camp when he heard her voice.
"Peter." Her voice was just above a whimper.
"Susan? Where are you?"
"Peter, help me!"
He followed the sound as he walked in between some trees when he saw her. She was still in just her boxers; there was a huge man dressed in all black except for what looked like a white mask. It reminded him of a riot mask or something. Peter saw Susan had been pinned by the throat against the tree.
"Peter!" she cried out again.
"What the fuck! Let her go, motherfucker. This shit isn't funny." His first thought was that it was John dressed up fucking with them. After all his Gut Ripper horror stories on the trip, Peter wouldn't put it past him. But this guy looked much taller than John. The man in the mask said nothing as in his other hand he held up a long shiny blade. Peter gripped the hammer tight and charged the man.
The masked man batted him away effortlessly. Peter fell to the ground, dropping the hammer as he did so. Blood filled his mouth where the stranger had struck him. He scooted back as the masked man took the knife and slashed Susan's stomach open. She coughed and choked up blood as he dug into the incision, pulling out her intestines. They spilled onto the ground, filling the night air with a bloody, acidic stench. Peter leaned over and threw up.
"Help. Peter! Help me!" Susan grunted as she struggled to breathe and fought against the extreme pain she must have been feeling. Peter watched helplessly as the man took her intestines and looped one section around her neck, she weakly struggled against it, but her bloody hands just slid off. The man looped the other end around a tree branch just above her. He gave her intestines a few tugs, and she began to raise up off her feet.
"No!" Peter screamed as the man lifted her several feet off the ground and tied her intestines to her own feet, completing the circle. Susan swung there, gagging and struggling as her guts strangled her. After a few seconds, she went limp. The man turned and looked at Peter and took a few steps. It was then Peter realized if he couldn't save her, he should have started running away a long time ago. He finally got to his feet as the masked man took another step in his direction.
Chapter 3
Peter ran over the rocks and down one of the trails; looking behind him the huge, masked figure just kept lumbering along. He was glad he'd worn his shoes, at least, but couldn't figure out how this maniac was able to keep up with him by just walking. There was a patch of trees just ahead. He ran that way hoping to lose the killer through there. In the dark, it was hard to see what was in front of him. He tripped over a large rock, tearing up his knee and nearly twisting his ankle.
He got back to his feet and made it into the trees. The killer was only twenty or so yards behind as he ran around another set of trees and through some bushes when he got stuck and pain seared through his body. He was stuck in razor wire. He'd hit the wire at full speed and was caught in it around his arms, legs, and dug into his chest. He tried to move, but with each movement, the mini-blades cut deeper into his skin. One of the blades was sunk horrifyingly low beneath the surface.
Part of him thought of just ripping his arm away, but he feared tearing through an artery if he did that. Plus, it hurt like hell. He heard footsteps coming up behind him as the killer approached.
"Help! Somebody help me!" he screamed, hoping to wake the others and that someone would come to his rescue. If anyone did hear, they'd never make it to him on time. He was stupid for running away from the camp, but he wasn't really thinking straight. He struggled and grunted as the razor wire dug into his body.
In a matter of minutes, the masked man was standing right over him. The man looked Peter up and down as if he were a science project. The large set of eyes looking at him with almost childlike curiosity, yet the terrifying gaze seemed capable of penetrating his soul. The man was holding a pitchfork in his hand.
"Look, I'm not sure why you're angry," Peter said. "Are we trespassing? Is this your home? We'll leave. Ok? We'll just pack up and go. We won't say anything to anyone. I promise."
The masked man stood behind him as Peter felt the prongs of the pitchfork press against the back of his head.
"No! Please? No! No! No!" Peter pleaded. He had just turned thirty recently. He'd just landed the job he'd always been wanting and life was finally starting to go his way. It would figure; about the time things are going well he'd die. Not only was his life about to end, but he was about to be killed in his underwear hung up in a bunch of razor wire.
With a single thrust, the man shoved the pitchfork into the back of Peter's skull. Peter gasped as his mouth hung open. Oddly he was still alive as he felt the sharp prongs slowly working through his brain. It didn't hurt as much as he thought it would, but he knew the lights would be out any second. When they finally did go out, the last thing he felt was the prongs pushing against the back of his eyeballs right before they popped out of his head.
Peter's killer pulled on the pitchfork, ripping Peter's lifeless body out of the razor wire and planted it into the ground. Peter's body stood propped up, dangling from the prongs by his head as the killer took the knife and slashed Peter's stomach open. He pulled out the gooey entrails and strung them around the bushes and branches nearby. Once he finished, he headed back into the campground.
* * * *
*
John and Dawn stepped out of their tents and found Buddy and Katie looking around.
"Did you guys hear that?" John asked.
"Yeah. Someone screaming. Sounded like Peter," Buddy said.
"Shit. Look at their tent."
The four of them walked around the collapsed tent that had housed their missing compadres.
"What the fuck?" Katie said. "This shit is freaking me out."
"Maybe it's the Gut Ripper, huh, John?" Buddy said looking at John who appeared less playful than he had earlier in the day. John didn't reply to Buddy's jab. "Huh, John? You were so full of knowledge in the car. Got nothing to say now?"
"Look, why don't we spread out?" Katie said. "Something must have happened. Are there any bears or mountain lions out here?"
"I have no idea," Buddy said. "But we should stay in pairs. John, you guys, head that way, me and Katie will look around back by the hills. Yell if you find them."
"What if they are really hurt? Like maybe there is someone else out here." Dawn said. "I think we should all stick together."
"Um, Buddy…" Katie said.
"No one else is out here. Fuck we're nuts for even coming out here." Buddy said.
"Buddy…."
"Hell, we didn't see a single fucking car or camper since we got into the park," he continued.
"Buddy!"
"What?"
"Look."
He looked at the tree line where Katie had been pointing. There was a large man wearing a white, beat up mask and carrying a large knife.
"What in the fuck?" he said.
"You think that's Peter fucking with us?" Katie asked. "Please tell me it's Peter goofing off."
"I don't think that's Peter," John said. "That is the actual Gut Ripper."
"If you guys are fucking with us; God help me I will gut you my fucking self." Buddy said.
"Dude, I'm not fucking with you. And he's headed this way."
The man was now less than fifty feet from the group.
"All right then," Buddy said as he picked up a rock and hurled it at the masked man. The rock hit him in the mask and bounced off, but the man kept coming.
