DESTINY'S DAMNED: A PRELUDE TO MURDER

The stray cat on the bedroom floor, sleeping over the crack, was
purring, the steady, familiar rattle soothing, as Judy Bowers lay stiff
in her sub-floor coffin., grateful for the company. Sneaking in the
house through some opening, probably in the basement, the cat was a
loyal companion, coming back immediately after each of her visits,
comforting her as she calmed, her wounds unattended. “You my kitty?”
she whispered. A triangular-shaped head, half distinctly black, the
other half fire and stone, the mottled colors of the earth, peered
through the crack as the tortoise shell female purred perceptively
louder. “Got somebody to feed you?”
He was there just that morning,
impatient with Judy because he forgot her food, in a hurry because he
had some kind of meeting with a friend, rushing, not getting a rise
from himself and, in anger, sodomizing her with a broom, hurting her
like he had never hurt her before.
Though he had not brought her
food for more than three days, and though she bled from her rectum for
what seemed hours after he left, she was peaceful, knowing he would not
hurt her again, at least until tomorrow.
Bound at the wrists and
ankles, while staring blankly at the tortoise shell’s fir, wishing she
could make some physical contact with something alive other than him,
she became aware that something cold was crawling up her arm.
Occasionally hesitating as if there to inspect her skin for edibility,
it then continued. Near hysterical, she shuddered. Rolling her
shoulder, bumping her body as best she could against the underside of
the floor, she tried to shake or knock the thing off. Strength a luxury
she did not have, her effort was useless. The tiny feet crawled onto
her neck. Bound tightly, the only defense left to her the movement of
her head, she twisted quickly, and the muscles of her spine unraveled.
“Oh..h..h,” she groaned, unable to fight further. Straining her eyes to
see the creature that now crawled across her cheek, she was horrified.
Through the blur, was a long, shiny creature with pincers.
Fear
turned to lust, and as the creature ventured further, she opened her
mouth and turned in its direction. Catching the scent of her breath,
lured to the fleshy cavern, the creature changed course and crawled
inside, to be instantly trapped and eaten.

Much later, possibly
an hour or three hours later, the instance with the insect lost in a
fog of other memories, she slept. Not realizing the cat and her purrs
were gone, she took a peaceful breath which while descending down her
throat stopped and went no further. The front door was closing. Heart
pounding, breath trapped inside her throat, she listened as the feared
and familiar footsteps came toward her.
“Hey, bitch,” he called, words slurring, anger seething. “Where’s my dinner?”
Confused,
her world more nightmare than reality, she accused herself, reviewing
in her half crazed mind a conversation that never took place. Dinner.
My God, whydidn ’t I fix him dinner. He told me he’d be back. He told
me he wanted roast beef, rare,.and scalloped potatoes. But, where’s the
refrigerator?”

Excerpt from DESTINY'S DAMNED.

© Shawna Ryan
Author: thrillers DESTINY'S DAMNED & SATAN'S SCAT
available:
www.pilchuckpublishing.com
amazon.com
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