Unhinged (4 Nights of Hallows Eve)

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Good Night Smith

The Apprentice knew she couldn’t have Smith getting in the way any longer. She paced back and forth thinking about how she would take care of him. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. “Perfect.” She turned and grabbed her coat, grinning.

She walked quickly through the forest, anxious to fulfill her plans. She got chills from the adrenaline running through her veins.

“Oh Smith,” She whispered. “This will be my best work yet. Such a shame that Poe never wrote about this.” The Apprentice chuckled in sick delight.

She stood outside of Smith’s house watching through the half-open window as he sat shuffling threw paperwork at his desk. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a glass vile which seemed to be empty, but held enough gas to knock out a large elephant. “Time for a nap.” she smirked. Swiftly she approached the window.

“Poor, naïve Smith. You practically make my job unnecessary.” She thought to herself.

In one smooth motion, she launched the vile through the window. Smith jumped up. She watched as he flailed his arms sloppily, gasping for air, and finally collapsing on the floor. The Apprentice then waited for the fumes to clear, entered the house, and carried Smith away. She took him to an old farmhouse just out of the city where the wooded area met the buildings. Once there, she strapped him firmly to a large metal table she’d bolted to the floor. She sat patiently and waited for him to gain consciousness.

At last Smith woke, his head spinning. He felt the cold table with his fingertips and tried to sit up. When he realized he couldn’t, he began to panic. He thrashed around trying to escape the hold of his metallic binds. The Apprentice laughed aloud at his feeble attempts to break free. Her laughter startled him.

“No.” he gasped.

“Oh yes.” she smirked. “It was quite simple actually. You made it so very easy for me.”

Smith struggled and scorned. “You’ll never get away with this!” he screamed. “They’ll find you! You’ll be put to death!”

She smiled playfully “How delightful, the thought of death. What do you say we explore that concept?”

She walked gracefully over to where he lay helplessly. She bent down and reached for the bucket that she’d sat underneath the table and placed it calmly on the cold surface beside his head. It too was metal. Next, she quickly made her way over to a small box that waited in the dark corner, just left of where Smith was bound. She opened it slowly, reached in, and pulled out a medium sized mouse by its tail. She turned back to Smith and asked,

“Tell me, how do you feel about rodents?”

Smith remained silent.

“I myself find them fascinating.” she rambled. “You know, they are quite smart actually. They are able to adapt quickly to changes that could bring them harm. Their natural ability to do so is far more advanced than humans.”

Smith looked at her, confused. She studied the tiny creature for a moment, then walked back to Smith’s side.

She spoke. “Smith, do you know what happens when a mouse becomes too hot in a confined space?” She asked.

His eyes grew wide, but he remained silent. “No? Let’s see.”

She smiled sinisterly as she ripped his shirt open over his stomach. He flinched at this. Gently, she placed the mouse on the exposed area and covered it with the bucket. She strapped it tightly to his body. So that the mouse couldn’t escape. She pulled a lighter out of her pocket and lit it.

Smith understood what was happening and tried to get free once more. As he moved the mouse dug its claws deep into Smith’s flesh. He groaned in discomfort.

“Oh relax, it will only hurt A LOT!” she laughed at herself.

She then tied off the trigger of the lighter so it would stay lit, and slowly placed it on the bucket. She walked toward the door. “I’m so sorry, I can’t stay for the show.” she teased. “I have plans with a very attractive poet.”

She exited the farmhouse, leaving him to die. Smith could feel the bucket beginning to burn his flesh. Suddenly, a sharp pain seared through his body taking his breath away. The mouse was digging away fiercely at the skin. He winced in pain. Blood began to run freely down his sides. He screamed in agony. The mouse tore harder and harder at his skin. It broke through. Smith could no longer scream.

He heard the sound of his stomach ripping open and smelled the scent of his burning flesh. They made his head spin. The mouse dug its way through Smith’s innards. Blood began exploding out of his mouth as the rodent gnawed its way through each of his organs. He knew he was going to die. He let his head fall limp on the icy table. The mouse was now just below his heart, he could feel it. He drew one last choking breath and mouthed his last words. They weren’t audible, but they left his lips as if the were shot thought a megaphone.

“Poe, kill this woman. May God help you.” His head dropped back against the table and he lay motionless. Smith was dead.

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