Greystone Manor

Mark slammed on the breaks, skidding to a stop, just inches from the group of young men.  As Jennifer looked in shock through the bug splattered windshield she noticed there were only three men visible, but remembered only seconds before seeing four.

“What the fuck,” Mark screamed as he raised his arms at the men, “Get the fuck off the road.” It was at that point Mark noticed the men were all looking towards the ground as though the headlights were blazing into their eyes. 

Jennifer grabbed at Marks arm. “I think you hit one of them,” she whispered in a panicked tone. “Oh my god, Oh my god,” Jennifer sobbed louder and louder each time.

The BMW’s headlights streamed bright ahead, making it impossible to see over the hood of the car. Mark was frantically trying to get out of his seat belt.

“Don’t go out there,” Jennifer screamed as she grabbed Mark by the forearm with both of her now sweaty palms.

“I have to, if I hit someone, you think we should just drive away?” Mark screamed, “That makes it a hit- and-run, anyway this is your fault, if you hadn’t of started with your jealousy bullshit we wouldn’t even be here.”



Earlier that evening, Mark and Jennifer entered the Yale town restaurant for their third anniversary; Jennifer knew that something was wrong when she noticed the young, blond curvaceous server looking Mark up and down.  While leading them to their table, Jennifer watched the woman as she swayed her perfect twenty year old ass in such a manner that could only be to get Marks attention.

“Whore” Jennifer venomously said under her breath. Mark turned and rolled his eyes in annoyance.

After taking Jennifer’s order the server turned to Mark. “Great tie,” she said with glowing white teeth between glossy pink lips, “what does the M.M. stand for?”

“It stands for, my fucking husband, now can we get some drinks, Please.” Jennifer spoke the last word with a condescending drawl.

“Jennifer!”

“Oh, come on Mark, she doesn’t give a shit about your tie or what the hell the embroidered initials mean, she’s a slut, a whore, probably going to slip you her phone number during dessert.”

“Jesus Christ, Jennifer, you’re crazy; you know that, nuts.” Mark said angrily while making a circling motion around his temple. She’s just being friendly, that’s what servers do for tips, they work like dogs and kiss your ass in the hopes of getting a fifteen fucking percent tip.”

Jennifer knew she was becoming more possessive, more paranoid, convincing herself that he was going to leave her for a prettier, possibly younger or perhaps more mature woman.

Jennifer was only 29 and perfect in every sense of the word with dark flowing hair and the body of an eighties Olivia Newton John. Jennifer was the love of marks life and no matter how bad her delusions and fits of jealous rage became, he would never leave her.



They’ll kill you, she shrieked just as a fist hit the top of the cars hood.

BANG!

Both Jennifer and Mark jumped, looking straight ahead at the abnormally tall dark figure in front of them. Even though the headlights barely illuminated him from the chest up, the moonlight made it possible for them to see the anger in his body, to feel the tension.

“What the fuck, mother fucker, you blind? Aint you ever done driven befo? Shit Man, you gone and fucked up Alto here, my boys gonna need some serious help.”

Jennifer began to panic, her heart was racing, and she suddenly felt like she was going to lose her bladder, neither Mark nor Jennifer knew what they were dealing with. The dark figure was waving around his arms and she thought he had a weapon. She wasn’t certain but just from what she could see and the street slang that suddenly barraged them; she just automatically assumed they all had weapons.  What she knew for certain, was that whoever these men were, they were trouble.

Bang, Bang. This time he slammed both fists hard on the hood, it was so loud in the dark of the night it sounded like a double-barrel shotgun. Bang, Bang. Another one of the men started pounding the hood.

Mark held up his hands in defense, “Hold on!” He screamed, as he reached for the chrome handle of the door.”

“No!” Jennifer screamed, “I’m calling the cops first.” Scrambling deep in her purse for her cell phone, Mark started to speak but Jennifer quickly interrupted him, “No one is getting out of this car till the cops get here.”

“One of those guys is going to need medical attention, I can’t just leave him lying there on the ground,” Mark said with concern in his voice. “I took an oath Jennifer, as a doctor it is my duty to do what I can, for Christ sakes; it was us that hit him.”

Bang, bang, bang, bang, all Jennifer heard was the guttural screams of profanity from outside the car and the click of the door handle as Mark pulled it up and the door swung open. The cool breeze carrying the scent of something dead struck her like a slap in the face.

Call the cops and get an ambulance out here, NOW,” Mark screamed, as he leapt from the driver’s seat to the hard dark pavement outside the warm safety of the car.

All three of the men were now staring at Mark, standing in front of the car patiently waiting his arrival.

Jennifer fumbled with the phone as she watched, terrified of what could happen. She took her eyes away long enough to dial nine then watched the scene again for only a second before looking away to dial a one. Mark was now standing in front of the hood with his back toward her, she could hear him talking but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. The three men seemed to be still, not moving, patiently waiting. Jennifer watched Mark bend down toward the injured man as the others all took a step back; she figured Mark had asked them to give him some room, while he assessed the patient. It had been only one second that Jennifer looked away to complete her call but just as she pressed the number one she heard a loud pop. Jolting her head straight ahead just in time to see Marks head, followed by his body, fling up from in front of the car as a spray of blood hit the windshield and his body flopped backwards onto the hood of the car.

Jennifer screamed at the top of her lungs as she stared at her husband through the blood-spattered windshield, averting her eyesight around the red streaks and clumps of grey color brain matter. She watched as two of the men drug Marks lifeless body into the bright light of the headlights, far ahead enough that she could see everything they were about to do. 

Jennifer could not stop screaming, her throat was raw, on fire, her body was shaking and she thought that any minute she was going to stop breathing. She tried not to look at the mangled mess that was her husband. Tried not to watch the horror as each of the men knelt beside Mark cutting him wide open, frantically digging around inside his belly and extending arms into the cavity of his chest.

Jennifer’s terror broke long enough for her to look away as she remembered the cell phone clutched so tightly in her hand. Thinking it would never work again; she put it to her ear and heard an animatronics voice telling her, an operator will be with you as soon as possible.

“Please, come on, Please answer,” Jennifer pleaded as she watched the tears stream from her face onto the floor of the car.

THUD!

Jennifer jerked up and looked straight ahead as she heard the loud thud on the already gory, windshield. Her frantic, terrified screams started again as she watched, what looked like, a still beating heart, slide down the gentle slope of the sleek and efficient BMW’s hood.

Three of the men were standing at the hood of the car, but they were no longer men. Jennifer now saw abnormally tall, sickly grey creatures. They were horribly skinny with bones that protruded from every direction, almost popping out of thin bluish transparent skin, with misshapen heads and clumps of long greasy grey hair. 

As the creatures spread out, Jennifer noticed the fourth one clawing its way with long bone like fingers dragging its legless torso and leaving a dark, wet trail behind itself.

Jennifer only faintly heard banging on the windows and rustling of the door handles when the operator came onto the line. “Nine, one, one, please state the nature of your emergency!”

“They’re creatures, they killed him, the creatures killed him, please help us.” Jennifer screamed every word, from her broken down throat so fast, the operator started to ask her to calm down, but before she could get the words out, Jennifer started again.

“There are four of them, they’re trying to get into the car right now, they killed him.” 

Jennifer wanted to give up, put the phone down and wait for the end. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing; one of the men was wearing her husband’s torn and bloody face. She could see the features that once belonged to Mark stretched across a misshapen face, could see dirty white color-less eyes peering out of ragged holes. One cheek bone pocked through the gently ivory skin that was once beautiful and smooth as a lipless black hole spat broken and chipped teeth at the windshield.

Trying to understand Jennifer, the operator said, “killed who ma'am?”

Suddenly calm, Jennifer speech slurred as she said, “my husband, they killed my husband.”

“Are you in danger ma’am?” Was the last thing Jennifer heard as the passenger’s side window imploded and she felt greasy, bony fingers on her-self.

“How did I get here?” Jennifer whispered as she swung her feet off the luxuriously soft king-size bed. “What time is it?” She knew where she was and why she was there but could not remember how or when she got there or the events leading up to that point. Everything seemed foggy, like a dream, she could almost see every moment, every event sitting on the edge of her mind, but no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t reach them.

As Jennifer walked across the black and white polished marble floors of her master suite she felt pain on her inner thighs, she looked down to notice large dark, purplish color bruises.

“What happened?” Jennifer curiously thought as she gently touched the tender areas.

Trying to remember something, anything, Jennifer could only remember Parker, the apartments head doorman, the kindest and most gentle man she had ever met. Parker was rugged, in a middle-aged, fatherly way, in the way he spoke and the uniform he wore, giving him a sense of authority. He made every effort to make sure Jennifer was comfortable and taken care of; treating her as though she were his own daughter. He often visited for coffee, went out of his way to pick up her groceries, dry cleaning, and bring in her mail as it piled up in her post-box on the main floor.

Entering the large bright kitchen with the sweeping butcher block island and expansive views of Central Park, Jennifer saw the two paper grocery bags and instantly remembered that Parker had brought up her groceries. 

Since the accident, since Mark was killed, Jennifer could not leave the posh building that only three months ago had been willed to her as part of Marks estate. A multimillion dollar apartment building that, in they’re three years of marriage, Jennifer knew nothing about. Apparently, the estate lawyer said it had been part of Marks estate since he was a teenager, left to him by an Aunt or Uncle of some kind. 

When Jennifer moved in was unclear, she couldn’t remember anything following Marks accident, not the funeral, the investigation, if there even was an investigation, or any details of her life. Couldn’t remember what happened to their home in Newark or even what her phone number was. Trying to piece it altogether became a jumbled mess.

Jennifer had few friends to turn to for answers; other woman sent her into dark jealous rages, the fewer women in her life the fewer problems in her marriage.

There was no family to speak of, she was an only child and both her parents were killed in a horrific house fire when Jennifer was only a teenager.

Marks parents hated Jennifer and even though they only lived blocks from the home Mark and Jennifer shared, they never came to visit or call, making every effort to stay as far away as possible. Marks only sister was killed in a freak subway accident shortly after Mark and Jennifer married.

It seemed the only contact Jennifer had was with her lawyer, who also knew very little about Jennifer’s life, but tried to find out as much as possible on her behalf. Parker often made phone calls for her to old friends and tried to contact Marks parents on several occasions without success.

The information that she had was limited and every time she tried to piece it together she lost it just as quick. Most days were good, like every other day, Jennifer started with a light breakfast of toast and coffee, performed a few menial chores and soaked in her bestial claw foot tub. That’s when the day started to lose itself, when the day like all days became fuzzy and unforgiving. 

Jennifer felt good this morning, like she could walk on water.

“Today is going to be a good day.” Jennifer said as she strode from the hot steaming bathroom to her dressing room. Subconsciously, Jennifer knew that today was not going to be any different from all the others, but she had to believe that this was the day her life was going to change. This was the day that she was going to go outside, feel the heat of the summer sun on her skin, stroll through Central Park, and admire the changing colors of the seasons. But most importantly this was going to be the day she would remember; this was the beginning of a new Jennifer, a new life.

“That’s the one” Jennifer whispered as she pulled a dark paisley, ankle length sundress from a wooden hanger in her massive walk-in closet. Jennifer could feel butterflies in her stomach as the cotton dressed slipped down her body running over her face, breasts and belly like fine silk flowing in the wind. Loosely piling her still damp hair in a makeshift bun on top of her head, Jennifer grabbed her purse, stuffing in the essentials and started for the massive oak door that led to freedom.

After locking the apartment and only feet before she reached the double elevator doors, she felt a sudden and crippling sense of anxiety, a pressure, like a vice, causing her vision to become distorted and blurry. Trying to focus her eyes the doors began to ripple and bulge out towards her like a slowly inflating balloon. The shriek of twisting metal pierced her ears as each door was like a grotesque metal hand reaching toward her. Jennifer’s body started to shake and her breathing became extreme, she clutched at her throat as if the airway was cut off and she felt as though she would stop breathing at any second. She fell back and landed on her rear as her ears rang with maniacal laughter and sweat dripped from her brow. Still clutching her throat she dug the heel of her sandals into the plush red carpet and jerkily slid her body away from the elevator doors. The further back she was the more able she became to breathe. 

“What’s going on?” Parker said with concern in his voice,” Are you okay Jennifer?”

Jennifer turned and grabbed Parkers legs, sobbing heavily, she said, “Oh Parker thank god, can you see it, can you see the elevator doors?” Parker moved a little to the left and peered down the hall at a pair of normal elevator doors.

“Yeah, I see them, is the elevator broken?”

It was then that Jennifer heard the noise from above. A loud, popping sound that gave her the briefest glimpse of Mark’s ruined head as it hit the hood of the car that night three months ago. But the image was gone quicker than it came, as Jennifer fainted.

Jennifer was wrong, very wrong, this day was not going to be any different; this day was going to be just like all the rest.



Like a recurring nightmare, Jennifer woke up in bed and tried to remember how she got there.  As she started to sit up she noticed the bed was different somehow, not as soft, smaller, much smaller. As she tried to shake the fog from her brain, Jennifer noticed she was wearing a faded black, now grey, smock of some kind, like a hospital gown.

“What the hell is this?” Jennifer said in surprise as she tugged at the oversized garment. “What has happened to me?”

“You fainted in the corridor.” Parker said as he entered the room with a glass of water and what looked like a tiny paper cup.

Corridor, Jennifer thought, “In the hallway?”

“You were pretty freaked out, mumbling something about an elevator, there was no one there and everything looked fine, so I brought you back to your quarters and called the doc.”

“What time is it? How long have I been out for?”

“Oh it's about dinnertime, you’re probably hungry? I’ll have someone bring something up for you.”

“Where’s the doctor?” Jennifer said quizzically as she looked around the room.

“He had another call down on two, said your fine, thinks it was a panic attack.”

“Here,” Parker said as he handed Jennifer a plastic bottle of water and small paper cup filled with tiny blue and white pills, “take these and everything will be right as rain.”

“I most certainly will not take those,” Jennifer said as she pushed his hand away, knocking pills onto the bed and floor.

Just as Parker turned to walk away he said, in what sounded like a low menacing tone, “Next time try the stairs Jennifer.” He spoke her name in a long menacing drawl, sending a chill down Jennifer’s back.



Later that evening with a hot cup of tea at the dining room table, Jennifer stared out the window as day turned to night and the crisp cool fall air drifted through the open window. Jennifer heard the front door slowly open, creaking louder than she had ever heard before, like a heavy metal gate on rusted iron hinges.

Jennifer froze in her chair as she heard heavy footsteps, like someone wearing army boots. The steps quickly stopped somewhere in the entrance hall, there was a loud metal clang as something hit the floor and the footsteps retreated. Whoever it was, was not trying to conceal their entry as Jennifer’s apartment door swung closed with a loud bang.

It had been about five minutes before Jennifer’s heart slowed to a beat just above regular; she slowly slid the chair out from under the table and cautiously rose to her feet. The sky outside was now dark and the hallway had no light on, she could see a stream of light stretching from under the door, cut in half by an object left on the floor.

Stepping cautiously as though there were venomous snakes writhing on the floor, Jennifer cautiously peered around the kitchen wall. About two feet from her, sat, what looked like, a round plastic tray covered by a tall beige lid with a hole in the center. Nothing looked menacing or wrong with the tray, other than it reminded her of a cheap meal served on an economy airplane flight, not first-class.

“It’s just Parker bringing me dinner you chicken shit,” Jennifer said to herself with an exhaustive sigh.

But why didn’t he say anything, Jennifer thought as she picked up the tray, “awfully light to be dinner,” it felt like there was nothing more than a feather under the dome. Putting it on the table, Jennifer stood, stomach rumbling, hesitating to lift the lid.

Confused, Jennifer thought it looked like a piece of paper, but when she touched it she realized that it was a filthy dirty piece of torn cloth. As she picked it up she noticed there was splotches of deep red stains, she felt panic in the pit of her stomach as she noticed the embroidered M.M. in curling black and gold letters. Lifting the crusted piece of fabric she whispered the name, Mark Manning. As Jennifer looked down in wide-eyed shock, she noticed the childlike scrawl, hidden underneath the scrap, scratched into the bottom of the dish that simply read, BRIAN!

Dropping the grisly reminder of Mark and the life that once was, Jennifer ran to her bedroom, to call down stairs to Parker, find out who brought this and what the hell was going on. As she placed the antiquated headset to her ear there was no dial tone but she thought she could hear someone on the line, breathing a deep, sickly, labored breathing.

“Parker is that you? Parker” Jennifer suddenly ripped the phone from her ear as the breathing turned into a screaming, squelching sound, a sound she remembered from her past, from the night Mark had been killed.  Jennifer threw the phone down, but could still hear the shrill screams of Mark coming from the headset as he was murdered all over again. She ran from the bedroom into the bathroom where she became flooded with the memories she couldn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend, the memories she so wanted back but now wished to forget again.

Jennifer woke up on the tiled bathroom floor, naked, cold, and her body felt sore and tired.

“What happened?” She said as she tried to lift her head from the tiled floor. Her hair was stuck to the tiny hexagon tiles, dislodging the hair from what looked like a pool of congealed blood. Standing on shaky legs Jennifer looked in the mirror and almost fell back down as she gasped at the sight of her naked bruised and bloody body. She also noticed the room seemed smaller and the walls around her were grey, not the usual tiffany blue she remembered. 

“Oh my god, who did this to me, what’s going on here?” Jennifer screamed as she frantically looked left, then right before settling, again, on herself in the mirror.

Jennifer’s hair was matted with dried blood and her entire body from her neck down to her toes was covered in fist sized bruises. Her breasts were no longer the color of skin, they looked like two black rocks and her nipples looked as though they had been chewed by a hungry, vicious animal. As tears streamed through the blood that had earlier oozed from her head onto the left side of her face, Jennifer was horrified to touch the immense pain that was emanating from between her legs. Terrified what she would find as her bruised and swollen fingers gently investigated her pelvis area, moving further down she felt something wrong. What she thought may have been a thick torn piece of skin, was fabric. Her vagina seemed more or less O.K. except as she gently tugged the dry and crusty fabric from herself her insides felt like they were being scraped by a wire brush. She felt relief when it was out; throwing it in the sink she noticed again the fabric that was once Marks tie. But this time it was no longer a torn scrap, this time it was the entire tie she had bought him for their anniversary, the tie that was now being used to relay a terrifying message; BRIAN.

As she slammed her fists on the white porcelain sink. Jennifer screamed over and again, “Who’s doing this to me,” before slowly and carefully making it back to the bedroom.

With no cell phone and no computer, she was virtually shut off from the outside world, except for Parker, where was Parker now?

“Hello, Parker, anyone,” she screamed into the dead phone, “Help me, somebody help me!”

Smashing the phones handset onto its cradle, Jennifer felt one of the hard plastic shards hit her ankle as it shattered. “Fuck,” she screamed just as she noticed the black smock the doctor had put on her earlier that day lying on the floor. As she tried to put it on with relatively little pain she stumbled barefoot to the apartment’s front door. The long interior hall seemed impossible to conquer, leaning against the walls for help; they seemed cold, and rough. Breathing hard she put her ear to the wooden door, straining to hear something, but there was only quiet. Just as she was about to turn the handle the door swung inward hitting her square in the nose and knocking her straight off her feet. Landing with a painful crash five feet back down the hall, the door stood open with light streaming from the buildings bright hallway, there was no one there.

“Fuck!” Jennifer tried to scream. There was blood rushing from her nose into her mouth and she was frantically trying to spit it out. “My fucking nose is broken.” She tried to say, sounding as though she was under water. There were no tears this time, Jennifer was far beyond shedding another tear, this time she felt only anger and rage, nothing or no one was going to stop her from leaving this place. 

With no fear and head held high, Jennifer limped straight out her apartment door into the vestibule. Not concerned if anyone was hiding on either side of the door waiting for her, she came out screaming.

“Fuck you, you can’t scare me any more, you can’t keep me here. Did you hear me, FUCK YOU?”

As she turned toward the elevator, she stopped dead in her tracks. Puzzled, Jennifer shook her head. The elevator was gone, like it never existed, there was only wall with an orange plastic school chair placed against it. The once delicate walls were no longer painted a sage green with white crown molding borders, the potted fern and umbrella stand that stood nearby were also gone. There was now only a white, dirty and stained concrete wall that showed writing and graffiti faintly coming from behind the crudely painted surface. It looked like a cinder block wall in some inner city community center, where the kids played as the parents attended court appointed AA meetings.

No matter what direction Jennifer turned in she was confronted again by more walls, the windows curtains, the welcome mat and even the beautiful crystal chandelier; gone, even her apartment door; it was all gone. The only part left was a large dented and pockmarked metal door with an enormous spring hinge on the top like in a derelict warehouse. The door almost leaped out at her, her vision seemed to be playing tricks on her as she became woozy and her tough exterior had once again broke down. Through tear filled eyes, Jennifer looked at the large letters half-hazard carved into the metal door; STAIRWELL.

From the corner of her eye Jennifer saw a flash of movement, a shutter of panic came over her weak body. Jennifer snapped her head to the left just as a screaming, thin figure rushed at her on all fours, wisps of long wild hair flying in the wind, piggish Nose sniffing wildly in the air like a wild animal.

Jennifer rushed to the door as fast as her battered body would allow. Thrusting the heavy door closed with a

Loud cavernous bang, Jennifer felt it shake in its frame behind her before instantly becoming still. It was not until she explored the black walls, flicked the light-switch on and flooding the small space with bright white light that she saw the stairs. No stairs leading down, only up. Feeling a little less scared she walked to the stairwell, the light bulb that was encased in a wire grate was so bright she had to squint as she looked up the center of the concrete stairwell.

Jennifer jumped back with a scream as she saw, what she thought looked like a creature peer over at her from only one story above. The creature was vile, pale, there were flaps of skin sewn over, where its eyes should have been, with thick black cord, a black hole for a nose and its stomach and torso were a gaping mess of innards and hanging flesh. Milky white liquid oozed from the creatures wounds and dripped down the center of the stairwell landing on Jennifer’s bare feet.

Jennifer turned to run back to the hallway, but as she turned the door was gone, there was only concrete from floor to ceiling, slapping at the walls Jennifer screamed for help.

“Please god, help me!”

“Jennifer, Parker said from behind her.”

“Parker, oh Parker, What’s going on, Please help me.” Turning towards the voice a buzzing pressure filled her head and Jennifer’s heart sank, as she looked around at a, now, stair-less room with no angles where the walls ended and the ceiling began. What had been a room was now just a space equipped with a rusted iron bed a single stained and chipped toilet and a heavy paint chipped iron door.

Seeing Parker through the small twelve inch square piece of scratched and wavy one inch thick plastic panel in the door, Jennifer reached her arms out, powerless to act.

“Stop it Jennifer, come back to us.” Parker yelled through the window.

“I can’t, I won’t; it's mark, he’s out there, waiting for me.” Jennifer screamed like a child scared of the dark.

“The creatures won’t hurt you anymore Jennifer, they can’t hurt you.” Mark yelled as keys frantically tried to unlock the cell door. “The only person that can hurt you now Jennifer is yourself, you need to come back to us.”

“Leave me, let me die, please.”  Jennifer pleaded as she turned back to the process of slamming her head against the wall, now tired from punching and kicking at her self.

I can’t do that Jennifer, I’m a doctor and I took an oath to keep you from harm and injustice, it is my duty to do what I can, now I’m coming in to get you.

Remembering Mark speaking those same words, the memories came flooding back to Jennifer, The memories that brought her to this dark place. That brought her back to that dark night. The night Mark was murdered, the night she caught him, on their anniversary, in the bathroom of the restaurant with that server. The night she beat the woman’s full, pouty lips into the hand dryer attached to the tile wall. The only reason the woman lived was because the dryer finally broke from the wall, landing in the heap of blood and broken teeth on the filthy bathroom floor.

“What have you done?” Mark screamed, as he raised his hands to his head. “You’ve finally lost it, Oh my god Jennifer.”

“This is your fault,” Jennifer spat at Mark, “You just couldn’t keep your filthy hands off her.”

“What are you talking about I wasn’t anywhere near her. I don’t know why she came in the bathroom but I can assure you it wasn’t to see me.”

“Nice try Mark, you think you can fool me? You think you know me?  You don’t know anything about me, just ask my parents. “Oops,” Jennifer said as she giggled like a preteen girl, “can’t do that cause their dead. Once again Mark, like momma and poppa, you shouldn’t have fucked with me.”

“What are you saying?” Mark said in surprise.

Jennifer’s eyes became slits her voice deep and seething, every word labored and drawn out. “Well Mark, I’m saying that daddy liked himself some jail-bate daughter and momma didn’t seem to mind. So after I took the last dirty inch of cock from that sick son of a bitch, I sliced his dick off and choked his bitch with it. I shoved it so far down momma’s throat it could have become a permanent internal organ. As for daddy, he didn’t last long, just kept bleeding and bleeding.  His dick was so small I never could have imagined the size of hole it made in his body, the shock alone pretty much killed him instantly, never mind the blood loss.”

Mark stopped the car, shaking, in shock. “Get out of the car, he screamed.” As he leaned over to open the passengers side door.

Jennifer’s right hand instantly shot out from beside the car seat, stabbing Mark in the forearm with the six inch switchblade knife that she had ready, waiting. Mark shrieked in horror as the blade scraped bone when he tried to pull his arm away.

“Don’t you want to hear about your poor little meddling sister,” Jennifer said wild-eyed, sitting forward as she maniacally waved the knife around, hitting the windshield, the roof, and without a flinch, almost cutting her own face.

“I can remember her screams Mark. I can hear them now. It was so tragic and unfortunate how the subway car just happened to be racing by at the very moment your sweet little sister fell into the tracks. I saw the way you looked at her, so pretty, so young, my father looked at me the very same way when he was feeling especially loving.” Jennifer spat in disgust. “Daddy’s little girl he used to call me.”

“No!” Mark cried, holding his bleeding arm like an injured puppy. He stared at Jennifer, trying to figure out who she was and what she had done as the anger began to boil inside him.

“Just drive you pussy.” Jennifer said as she sat back in her seat, acting annoyed, as though a cab diver had taken a wrong turn.

Mark was so enraged, his head started to throb and tears welled up in his eyes, he faintly heard Jennifer talking as he hunched over and grabbed his head with open hands. Mark started to scream a deadly piercing shriek as he whipped his head in Jennifer’s direction. Her eyes looked at him in confusion as Mark jumped from his seat like a wild animal and clamped both hands around Jennifer’s thin, frail neck.

“Ill kill you, Ill snap you’re fucking neck.” Mark screamed.

Jennifer didn’t move or try to scream; she only looked in wide-eyed excitement as she thought how perfect Marks large, thick, strong hands were placed around her neck. Thumbs pressing hard against her windpipe, his middle fingers connected in the back of her neck. She closed her eyes just for a second, feeling a shiver of ecstasy shoot down her spine as she jabbed the knife as hard as she could into Marks abdomen. Mark did not release his hold or even slacken his tight hold on Jennifer; he just looked at her with pain in his beautiful deep blue eyes.

“Why!” Mark said softly.

Jennifer tried to pull the knife out, feeling a tugging, sucking sensation as she pulled harder, sliding it out slowly. Marks hold started to slacken as Jennifer slowly thrust the knife into Mark again, this time a little lower, just below the belly button.

With a smile on her face, Jennifer mouthed the words, “feel’s so good,” as she wiggled the knife from side to side. She knew as Marks hands started to loosen up that he was no longer a threat to her. As his body started to slide back towards the driver’s side of the car Jennifer pulled the knife out again. Brought it to her trembling lips and licked from handle to point with an erotic satisfaction before starting in the task of disposing Mark’s body piece by piece.



Strapped to the bed, Jennifer looked up at Dr. Parker, “Where am I,” She said, confused as she tried to look around the room.

“Your in the infirmary, you had another one of your episodes, Jennifer,” Dr. Parker said with an agitated tone. “It seems you stopped taking your medications again.”

Jennifer’s body felt like a truck had run over her as the nurse recalled to Dr. Parker, the injuries that Jennifer had inflicted on herself. Jennifer was on the verge of unconsciousness, only hearing the odd words, nothing that could be put together to tell her what had happened to her.

“Bruises, gashes, mutilation, concussion”

This was one of Jennifer’s worst episodes since being sentenced to the Greystone hospital for the criminally insane.

“Where’s Brian!” Jennifer screamed as she felt every rib in her body turn in a blinding pain.

“Brian’s safe Jennifer, please just relax.”

But Jennifer had already fallen back into unconsciousness, back into the nightmare that was her life.

Once Jennifer was finished with the task of mutilating and disemboweling Marks body, throwing pieces into the ditch and even pocketing an ear, a finger and an eyelid, Jennifer slowly waddled back to the car.

Pushing her seat back as far as it would go. Grabbing the bloody knife and cutting off her short cocktail dress from the hem to the neck.  Jennifer spread her legs and started the lengthy task of removing the baby that had been inside her for almost nine months, the boy they were going to name Brian.

“Give him to me,” Jennifer shrieked as she tried to lift her arms toward the paramedic that was holding her baby. Police tried to hold her still long enough to get the cuffs on, while Jennifer bucked wildly as she watched the paramedic smile with broken and chipped bloody fangs as he lifted his head from the baby’s torn and lifeless neck.