Wednesday, March 18, 2015

I Should Stop Watching Mafia Movies

So I had a nightmare the other night. Yesterday I decided I needed to get it out of my head and down onto paper so I wrote the scene down. Now, I'm sharing it with you! You lucky thing.

I think I was listening to 'The Departed' soundtrack before I went to bed and therefore the dream turned out pretty twisted and gory... prepare yourself.


If you don't like that kind of thing then I suggest you stop reading now.

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He gestured to her to follow him back into the back room while Ben’s concerned face peaked out from inside the door frame. She had no choice but to go in. This was the big boss and no one turned him down. She couldn't help but think of the possibilities of what was waiting for her.

When she reached the door she took a step forward to find a man tied to a wooden chair badly beaten and covered in blood. On the table beside him was a mix of hardware tools, kitchen knives and alcohol. To her right one of his goons stood with a hot poker next to the fire.

“What do you see when you look at this man?” the boss asked.

She stared back at him blankly too scared to answer for fear of making a mistake.

“A rat?” he suggested

She still couldn't say a word. Her jaw felt as if it had been soldered shut.

“A traitor?” he smiled.

How do I stop this? She thought. What does he want me to say?

“This man has been very naughty. He knew the rules and yet he decided to break them. What do we do with people who can’t behave themselves?”

Her jaw was loosening but she still didn't know what to say.

“Come here” he beckoned her closer to the tied up man and the blood stained instruments. “I could use an extra pair of dexterous hands. I hear you can be quite delicate.” He stared at Ben as he said this. She shivered.

She moved over to where he wanted her and he quickly moved behind her and grabbed her hand, like he was about to show her a better golf swing. With his other hand he reached for the cleaver.

The barely conscious man wriggled in his seat but he was so tightly bound it barely made a difference.

Cleaver now in her hand the boss held her fingers tight around the handle. She subconsciously pulled back in him but he was moving forward. Ben was hovering uneasily in the corner of her eye.

“Over the past few months this man has been passing information to our enemies. One by one he spilled our plans. His actions lead to the death of Harley and Mason. Now he’s facing the consequences.” A few of the men in the room nodded though all seemed unsure of their boss’s intentions.

“Tony, spread his fingers.”

Oh god, she thought. Still leaning back into the boss she reluctantly watched as the mans fingers were spread across the arm rests. Still struggling, the man refused to keep them in place.

“The nails” the boss said plainly.

Tony grabbed a hammer and the nails and spreading the left pinky to the side first he put a nail in place and haphazardly hammered it into the skin. Muffled shrieks sounded from the man’s gag and she pulled back once more into the bosses chest.

Each finger brought her closer to fainting as he completed the left hand and moved onto the right. The boss was growing impatient and began moving to the man’s left side with his arm firmly around her waist.

“For each tale you told of our activities another finger gone.” He said almost laughing. He lifted his arm and her’s with it the cleaver bearing down aiming for his already mutilated pinky.

Her arm went dead. She let it fall with the strength of the man behind her. With his right hand still being hammered his left pinky was now severed and left hanging over the edge of the armrest. Like a cruel trick of the mind the finger looked almost connected if it weren't for the blood now pouring out.

The tied up man had lost all colour and was now a limp lump on the chair.

She didn't know what to think anymore. Colour fading from her face almost as quickly as it had from the man’s.

“And the next” the boss called joyously as he lifted their arms again and the smell of metallic blood rushed into her sinuses.

They kept working their way through the fingers until they had made their way through the first hand. Tony had finished and was reaching for the hot poker.

The finger’s lengths were now crudely uneven. Some were shorter, some longer, and often with cuts where the cleaver was not so ‘delicate’ and the fingers not to evenly spread.

They stopped and watched as he brushed the fingers around 180 degrees on the nails they were now only attached to and shoving the poker up against the streaming blood. It seemed useless to stop the flow now as the pool on the floor seemed

At the burning of his skin and bone the man seemed to animate once again but his eyes remained shut. Although, she could no longer tell whether that was due to swelling from the beating he had received prior to her entering the room.

Her gut wrenched as the boss wordlessly started positioning them at the man’s right hand. How she had not fainted yet, she did not know.

The continued the pattern of going through each finger and at the end the heat sealed off the blood flow again.

When the boss let go of her hand she didn't realise how limp she had been. The cleaver slipped out of her hands and narrowly missed her toes as she caught herself just in time, falling in slow motion to the side that had once held the heavy knife. Her hand landed on the back of the wooden chair by the man’s head. She stared at him for a few frozen seconds before she pulled her hand back and walked backwards to the table. Ben moved towards her but did not touch her, keeping his eyes on the boss.

Looking pleased with himself, the boss picked up the dropped cleaver and laid it out on the table. He moved back to the chair and put his face up close to the man’s.

“Wakey, wakey” he chimed but the man was unconscious. The only sound he made was a sticky gargling sound with each heavy breath.

“Take him somewhere and dump him.” The boss said confidently, still staring at the man but gesturing dismissively to the men surrounding him.

“Thank you, my dear.” He smiled charmingly finally removing his eyes from the man and turning to her. “You better clean off that red, never know what germs a rat’s blood holds.” He laughed.

She moved slowly around to face the door and started moving forward. She hadn't noticed the blood now covering her. The spray of each finger had spattered it over her head to toe.

She hadn't noticed Ben behind her until she reached the mirror in the bathroom and saw him walk in behind her.

“Anna” he muttered weakly.


She reached for the tap and once again felt someone’s body press up behind her. Ben was holding the soap, lathering her hands and arms for her. She fell back into him consciously relaxing her arms as he washed the blood down the drain. In the mirror she saw her reflection pale and blank. Her eyes started to show the look of realisation as she took in what had just happened. It wasn’t long before they gave in to the tears pooling behind them.

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So now you've glimpsed some of the crazy in my subconscious mind. Congratulations.

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