Reaping The Seeds Of Hate

...She awoke...

'What the fuck? Where the hell am I?' The young girl cried as she regained consciousness and studied her harsh surroundings. She was in a field. A pasture, or at least thats what it looked like. She could feel the cold morning dew, seeping into her thin T-shirt and light jeans from the grass beneath her. The moisture surrounded her fragile body, smothering it with a chilling, dank grip which reflected her state of fear and confusion.
She looked down and studied her body and immediately saw that her hands and feet had been tied together with copper wire. The metallic strength of the material had boared a circular scar around her wrist, which looked like a bracelet of blood and black scabs.

...Her screams echoed throughout the pasture...

'Please! Somebody help me!' then she waited for a response. 'Hello! Please, somebody help me!' She screamed louder, but nobody answered.
Her throat dried up from the fear of the silence of her surroundings. It soon became clear to her she was in the middle of nowhere. She could hear no car engines, no electricity pylons, no sounds of life of any kind. There was probably no one around for miles. No one to her her scream.
Never in her life had she felt so alone, so afraid, so isolated and distant from everything she knew and held dear.
Her heart beat then quickened when the revelation dawned upon her that whoever had done this to her would soon be back to collect her again. She couldn't remember anything, but she knew she had to get away, she had to escape, but she knew this was impossible.

...She tried to struggle out of her shackles...

But it was futile. There was no way she could get to her feet to run. No way she could use her arms to fend off whoever had done this to her. She was just left laying there helpless...a sheep amongst the wolves.

From over a moor, no more than half a mile away, a brown Humvee came cruising towards the floundering girl. The car was a rust bucket. A car that was so dilapidated even the most dumbass, inbred, moronic redneck would be ashamed to call it his own.
The girl screamed at the car driving towards her, rolling around trying to get its attention, hoping and praying it was a passerby or a traveler. But deep down she knew who it was.

...She lay still as the car stopped...

From within stepped a long haired, wart ridden, southern boy with a beer in one hand and a half smoked cigarette in the other. He looked down upon the petrified girl and cracked a devious smile.
From the passenger side stepped an equally ugly, toothless, old bastard, whom approached the girl with both hands in his pockets.
'God damn, what do we have here?' the toothless man said, grinning like he'd just lost a dollar and found a fifty 'Well, well, you are even prettier in the sunlight.'
The man from the drivers side laughed like an idiot.
The girl was so consumed with terror, she didn't listen to his words 'Please, Mr, help me, I just woke up out here tied up and I don't kno...'
'Now don't you worry your pretty little head about it' the toothless man interrupted, running his scabby fingers through her soft blonde hair.'Me and my brother, Brett, will fix you up, real good. My names Carl'

...Carl picks her up and lifts her over his shoulder...'

'Ah! Get off me! Please! Who are you people!?' She exclaimed screaming and crying. Brett opened the back seat door then Carl threw her inside, slamming the door behind.
The two men cackled at eachother like monkeys on heat as they got back into their rust bucket. Brett started the engine again as Carl turned on the radio.
'Ah man, I love this song!' Carl exclaimed as he turned the volume up, drowning out the moans and pleas of their captive in the backseat.
The song was 'Whole Lotta Rosie' by AC/DC, a song which Carl clearly knew off by heart. He started to play the air guiter and sing along to lyrics with glee.
'Wanna tell you a story...about a women I know...' Carl sang grinning like a madman at his brother, whom just laughed out loud like always.
'When I comes to loving....she steals the show...' Carl could hear a high pitched groan coming from behind him, to which he just turned up the volume even louder.
'She ain't exactly pretty...ain't exactly small...'
Carl heard a more assertive scream, radiating from behind him, although he couldn't make out the words over the music.
'4, 2, 39, 56...you could see she got it all!' Carl then turned his air guiter on full power and jammed out the verse riff.
'Who the fuck are you people!' The girls scream nearly made Brett flip the car. 'Where the fuck are you bastards taking me!'
Carl smashed the 'OFF' button on the radio, turned around in his seat, then covered the girls mouth with his left hand. With his right, he revealed at flick knife which he held to the girls throat, not enough to cut her flesh but enough make stay as still as a scarecrow.
'Now thats not a very polite way to talk now, is it?' Carl tilted his head towards his brother. 'Brett over here is a Christain boy, and his ears are not trash shoots, so watch your mouth, little lady.'
Carl flicked the knife across her face, leaving a shallow cut in her cheek. The girl could feel the blood dripping down past her chin. She could sense the warm air breezing against her wound, feeling like a million tiny needles gorging into her cut. Her fear was beyond belief.
'Whats your name, little lady?' Carl asked as if she were a passenger in his taxi.
'Wha...What?' The girl hesitantly answer, not quite believing the tranquility of his voice.
Carl looked at her in the rear view mirror. 'You got a name, don't ya. Shit, we all got a name. My daddy always said the only thing in life that you get for free, is your name. So whats yours?'
'Cin...Cindy?' she stuttered.
'Cindy what?'
'Cindy... Turner'
'Cindy Turner' Carl grinned as he lit a Malboro Red. 'That's a pretty little name. A pretty little name for a pretty little lady.' Carl took a long drag on the cigarette and then offered the pack to Cindy.
'You smoke, Cindy?'
'No....I gave up.'
Brett and Carl seemed to find this amusing.
'I ain't ever met no body who gave up smokes before. Shit, maybe you can tell me your secret.' Carl grinned as he threw the pack of cigarettes into the open glove compartment. 'Yeah, I'd like that. My daddy always said these would be the death of me and Brett. ''Cancer Sticks'' he'd call them. It turned out getting hit by a bus was the death of him, so what the fuck did he know?' Carl and Brett chuckled with eachother.
Cindy almost asked Carl why he could curse infront of Brett but she couldn't. But she decided against it. These guys were obviously crazy, the kind of bastards the police warned you about in rape prevention classes. The kind of people who you would never pick up in your car if you they were hitchhiking. And Cindy was at their mercy.

...There was a long silence...

'Ca...Carl?' Cindy asked nervously.
The warty southern boy turned around in his seat, looked at her, and gave her a toothless smile.
'Yes, ma'am.'
'Where are you taking me?'
'To the Valley.'
'Valley?...What Valley?'
'Its only a short ways over this moor. Its where our daddys house is. In the Valley. You see thats why we left you out in the field. Couple of cops came round asking questions about missing teenagers, waving some pictures in our faces. Ofcourse we said ''we know nothing, officer'' but Brett here took you out into the field so no one could find you...'
Cindy didn't want to hear anymore. She wanted to scream at him, but was afraid he would cut her. Tears fell from her bloodshot eyes as Carl continued.
'...he went on and dumped you out there for us to pick you up in the morning. Those cops won't be back here for days...That gives us plenty of time.'
Cindy tried to choose her words carefully, trying not to anger her captor.
'What are you going...to do with me?'
Carls soulless eyes glared at her through the rear view mirror.
'We're gonna have a little fun...'
Cindy screamed like a wounded maul, she struggled to free herself, even though she knew she couldn't.
Carl turned around and held up the flick knife and slowly moved it towards her. Cindy went as stiff as a board and as white as milk.
'You just shut up now, little one. If you do as your told and don't mess us around, there may just be something good in this for ya. Besides your a bit to young for my taste...But Brett here, he'll fuck anything...'
Carl laughed at her fear and cries. Then he sat back down and turned up the radio again.

...The car arrives in the Valley...

Carl and Brett got out of the car and Carl once again lifted, the kicking and screaming Cindy, onto his shoulder. He then dumped her down like a sack of rags on the ground and flicked away his used cigarette.
'Now you just wait here, suger pie.' He grinned at the terrorfied girl, laughing with his brother as they both walked into the house. Cindy was left alone outside to view her new terrian, the Valley.

The Valley was a setting for the dissemination of some of the most menacing and gruesome acts capable by a human being. The nauseating aroma of dried blood and seamen was a strong as the fertilizer in the fields nearby. Burnt out cars, rusted old tools and torn plastic bags littered the landscape. And in the middle of all this stood a house, like something out of an Alfred Hitchcock movie, standing motionless in the morning breeze.

About five minutes later, Carl and Brett walked outside, still laughing at something in there annoying high pitched squeals.
Cindy could see that Carl was holding something, wrapped up in a black cloth. Carl approached Cindy, Brett stood back and watched, swigging his beer.
'We're going to take you somewhere now, Cindy.' Carl said with no emotion. 'And where we take you...you will never understand...and I don't think you'll ever want to.'
Cindy opened her mouth to speak, but fear and anxiety wouldn't allow the words to come out. Her throat was so dry, her wrists hurt so much, she was dehydrating from all of her crying.
Brett picked her up and slung her over his shoulder and followed Carl to the Barn.
Cindy was trying to think fast. What could she do? She felt so helpless, like a kitten without a home. She could hear Carl singing in front of her.
'This is the house....Nobody lives...This is the house...Get what you give...'

...They arrive in the Barn...

Brett threw the pretty blonde down on a stack of hay, then lit another cigarette. Carl put whatever he was holding down on the floor.
Brett began to unbutton his pants, as he stared at Cindy with wide eyes, full of devious lust. He walked closer to her. Cindy cried out, pleading the fat, warty redneck not to rape her. Still he walked closer.
'Brett!' Carl yelled. Brett turned towards his bother. 'Not this one, we're running behind.'
Brett obeyed his brother, and buttoned up his pants again with a disappointed look on his face. Brett stepped back, looking like a child waking up on Christmas morning with no presents.

Carl opened up the black cloth and removed a large steel handle from within. He then walked over to a large piece of machinary in the centre of the Barn, and inserted the steel handle into a hole on one side. He then began to turn the steel bar, powering the machine like a crank.

...Cindy saw the machine power up...

and knew immediately what it was. Her tears had now run out, her eyes were painted open, her fear was that of legend.
The machine which Carl was powering up was a mincer, used to grind up cow meat into more soluble pieces. Her heart sank...she knew what Carl intended to do with her.
Carl approached the terrorfied girl and knelt down next to her, his voice as calm as the morning.
'The end is nigh, pretty girl. You've cooperated very well...Its been a pleasure.'
Carl and Brett then lifted her up, Carl grabbing her arms Brett grabbing her legs.
Cindy kicked screamed and pleaded once more with the men, not wanting to surrender to the awful fate that awaited her.
The two brothers carried their helpless lamb to the machine of slaughter. Carl kissed his fingertips then pressed them against Cindys moist lips. She spat in the face of her captor.
'Fuck you! Fuck you!'
Carl smiled. 'Now you'll never be alone again.'

Before the innocent victim could retort, they had thrown her into the open jaws of the blood soaked mincer. Her feet began to be cut away, inch by inch, by the merciless blades of the machine. The blood sprayed from her wounds, smothering the mince tray and everything nearby in Cindy's bright red gore. The blades worked their way down to Cindy's shines, then her knees, then her thighs. Splinters of bone, mixed with flesh and ligaments, flew out of the mincing device, like bats out of hell. The blades then worked their way up through Cindy's abdomen... Her scream's were that of bad horror movies and vile nightmares. She was spitting blood and chunks of flesh from her mouth. Her pain was inexplicable...it took her a long time to finally die...

On a quite, tranquil roadside on a lonely desert road, a white van stopped at a rest area. From within the van stepped a young couple, travelling across the south. They walked towards two ugly redneck men, whom had set up a table of beef burgers for sale.
'How much?' asked the man.
'$2:50' replied one of the men with a toothless smile.
The man gave the redneck five dollars and he and his wife bite into their juicy, tender burgers.
'This is good shit, man' The man complimented.
'I know' The toothless man replied 'It comes from the best meat around...'

(TO BE CONTINUED...)