Chapter 13
Timothy sat at the desk in his room, reading a blog about MK Ultra mind control experiments. The realization that these types of activities went back for decades was very disheartening. He hated the articles claiming that the experiments had ceased in 1974. Obviously, they had been honing their skills since then, building up newer and better ways to control people through high technology.
The last words of that police officer at the compound had stuck with Timothy. Every night before he went to bed, he wondered what that pervert had really meant. The idea of those klansmen having his sister as a sex toy was a source of constant torment to him.
When Timothy's mother left on business for the week, he couldn't muster the nerve to express his fear of being left alone in the house for so long. She was still depressed about Sara and she refused to believe his suspicions about mind control.
In the kitchen, while Timothy was preparing himself dinner, he saw a strange man staring at him through a window next door. The shades were pulled all the way up and the man had his palms pressed against the glass with his face right up next to it.
The sound of a vehicle came from the drive way and Timothy went to the living room to see who it was. It was a van Timothy had never seen before. The first man to exit the van had weird facial features with an artificial looking nose. The sight of that freak sent an initial shock through Timothy, followed by an overwhelming fear of being alone. Before he could get a good look at the others exiting the van, he raced to check that all the doors in the house were locked.
“Inu rapists,” proclaimed a boorish and comical sounding voice in Timothy's head as Timothy checked the front door. The voice tore a gaping hole in Timothy's perception of reality and with it came an overpowering sense of dread.
Timothy frantically checked the locks as the voice said, “You're not allowed to lock them out of the house. You need to obey your father. You always wanted a father to take care of you. I'm your father now.”
“Shut up!” shouted Timothy.
Shrill voices began giggling in the background. Then the boorish voice shouted into Timothy's head with so much force that Timothy stopped in mid gait as his head convulsed with ramming shocks, which emphasized the words. “LISTEN UP YOU LITTLE BRAT! THIS IS THE POLICE AND WE'RE YOUR PARENTS NOW! WHEN A POLICE OFFICER TELLS YOU TO DO SOMETHING YOU DO IT!”
Timothy regained his senses and hurried toward the back door. Then the sound of the back door opening sent Timothy toward the phone in the kitchen.
“That's them,” observed the boorish voice, nonchalantly. “Don't bother calling the police. WE ARE THE POLICE!”
An electric current flashed down Timothy's spinal column, making it feel like a metal rod, and Timothy stood frozen in place. His heart raced with the sound of the intruders approaching.
“Those are prosthetics on their faces. You're going to see what they look like underneath for refusing to obey orders. Remember I told you that when you're at the compound. You're never going to be free again after what you wanted to do to your sister.”
The intruders were just behind him and, before Timothy knew it, he shuddered with the touch of a hand upon his shoulder. Other hands grabbed him as well and turned him around. It was three freaks quite a bit taller than himself with artificial noses and strange facial features. Two males and a female. The foul odor and alien appearance of the intruders were too much for Timothy to bear and he vomited on the floor in front of them.
Oblivious to Timothy's regurgitation, the three assailants dragged him toward the front door and, to his horror, he realized that his legs walked along with them, regardless of what he wanted.
The Inu rapists didn't say a word as they walked him out to the driveway. Their movements were robotic as they ushered him into the back of the van.
Timothy's heart raced as one of the freaks climbed in and sat beside him, with his hand on Timothy's shoulder. Timothy desperately hoped his mother would report him missing. She would have to know something bad had happened to him.
“She won't care,” said the boorish voice. “You're gonna go fag and like it.” The way the voice spoke about rape caused a nauseating warp in Timothy's brain. Then the voice pressed against his brain oppressively as it said, “We know you're thinking about escaping. There's no escaping the police officer's union with penitentiary.”
Time slipped by in that dark vacuum until Timothy's eyes drooped with exhaustion and he repeatedly nodded off, catching himself as his head sank downward. Then oblivion enveloped his consciousness.
When Timothy awakened he was laying naked and uncovered on a bed.
“They know you're awake. What's worse, you disobeyed us.”
The realization of the alien surroundings swept away all Timothy's initial grogginess with a wave of terror. The walls and ceiling were crimson.
Someone was approaching the bed.
Timothy tried to raise his body to look up, but he remained immobile. All his muscles were lax and useless.
The Inu rapist came into view and removed the fake nose, revealing a leprous looking nasal cavity. With the nose, he removed the rest of the prosthetics as well, revealing ghastly rotting skin pockmarked with holes showing through to the inner flesh. Through the holes in the abomination's cheeks, Timothy could see the inner mouth and tongue.
“Lick my holes,” a raggedly caustic voice in Timothy's head commanded. The smell of decaying flesh made it painful to breathe. The Inu Rapist climbed on the bed and pressed his face close. “Lick my cheek!” the voice shouted, causing Timothy's head to convulse.
With the convulsion, a force spread through Timothy's mind and seized control over his mouth. Timothy's stomach churned in impotence as the force moved his head upward to kiss the grotesque cheek, which tasted like rotten meat. A nauseating warp enfolded his brain as his tongue began licking one of the ghastly holes. All his senses told him to vomit and yet that awful force restricted his nervous system, entrapping his consciousness behind an invisible barrier.
The Inu rapist turned Timothy onto his side and got behind him. “You disobeyed the police. I get to be brutal with you.” The penetration of the ragged penis into Timothy's anus forced an awful cry from his mouth. Then the overwhelming pain of his anus spreading wide open shot up his back, enveloping his brain with unbearable pain. He shrieked, wishing he could just die.
After performing horrid acts with the other two Inu rapists, the two male freaks lifted his limp body between them, with his arms around their shoulders and his feet dragging along the floor. Everywhere Timothy looked the walls were empty. All the light around him was artificial.
By the time they reached the hall, Timothy's feet began unwillingly stepping along the floor, forcing awful pains through his body.
They took Timothy into a ghostly looking auditorium and approached a phone booth in one of the corners furthest from the stage.
The phone rang.
The Inu rapists pushed Timothy into the phone booth where he leaned against one of the sides and picked up the phone.
“Who is this?” Timothy's voice rasped.
“It's Sara.” Her voice was familiar and yet her tone sounded vacant. Hearing her voice weighed down his heart with total despair. “Is this Timothy?”
“Yes, it is.” Every word cut into his throat like a razor, yet his mouth released the words anyways.
“They said I could to talk to you, because I've been a good girl. I want you not to worry. I love my new boyfriends. They take very good care of me.”
“You filthy slut! I'm being tortured!” The words were more torturous to Timothy's soul than the shouting was to his throat.
Sara hung up the phone, leaving an abyssal cloud swaying over Timothy's mind.
He wished he could have told her he knew all about automation control and what she really must be going through. He wished he could have told her that he still loved her.
His head swam with listlessness as his hands dialed a number. The phone rang a few times
and then his heart sunk even further, when his mother said, “Hello.”
“Hello. This is Timothy.”
“Are you sick? You don't sound well.”
“No. I'm fine. I'm calling to say goodbye. I want to live with my boy-friends now.”
There was a stifled sob on the other end of the line. “How can you do this to me?”
“It's my choice. Sorry about the carpet.”
“What...”
Timothy hung up the phone.
The Inu rapists took him from the phone booth back to the room where he'd been raped of his virginity. By the time he was laid onto the bed, all his vitality had left him and his body craved sleep. Within moments the sweet oblivion of sleep took him from his torturous existence.
A splash of cold water to the face shocked Timothy out of his respite. His naked body was now seated in a chair, held in place with metal restraints around his wrists and ankles. Terrible pain pulsed in joints throughout his body, but it was all dwarfed by the horrendous pain of his anus propped against the chair. The pain spread upward into his spine with unbearable agony, causing Timothy to wince and moan.
“Fun time is over,” said Clive.
The sight of Clive terrified Timothy into lucidity. “Please don't hurt me,” pleaded Timothy, once again in control over his own voice.
“Shut up, Christmas!”
The shouting jolted Timothy's damaged nerves.
“When I called you an inbred that day I was giving you an order. Did you obey that order?”
Timothy stared at the ground despondently.
“I just asked you a question!”
A force rose over Timothy's throat, forcing him to reply, “No, I didn't.”
“I'm gonna show you what we do to ingrates, who don't obey orders.”
Timothy's body jumped with fear as Clive bent down over him and released him from the restraints. Then Clive grabbed Timothy by the nape of the neck and dragged him through a nearby door, proclaiming, “We handle it like the police. We make you eat shit!”
The smell of feces horrified Timothy as he crossed the threshold into the dilapidated bathroom.
Clive held Timothy's head over the basin of a toilet full of excrement. “That's the poo lease. We feed it to you when you misbehave. You disobey orders again I'll lease you some of my poo.”
Timothy's eyes refused to shut, despite his need to block out the object of his revulsion. The fumes were already causing Timothy nauseating head pain. The overriding of Timothy's impulse to heave alluded to a horrifying possibility.
“It’s worse when you eat it,” declared Clive. “It's a total hellfire club when you eat it raw. You going to obey my orders from now on or do I have to give it to you sub rate?”
“I'll obey orders,” croaked Timothy.
“Good boy, Christmas.” Clive lifted Timothy's head from over the basin and dragged him out of the bathroom.
The after effects of Timothy's exposure to the noxious fumes left his head quaking with a dull and feverish pain, retarding his ability to think.
When Clive released him in front of that accursed chair, Timothy lost his footing and his body crumpled up on the ground.
“Get in the chair,” commanded Clive.
Timothy's hands reached out and pulled him up into the chair. Then he suffered a dizzy spell and startling pain shot through his body as his torso twisted in the chair to face his master.
Clive relocked the restraints around Timothy's wrists and ankles, sinking him into a hopeless state of despair. How much longer would he have to go on like this without any reprieve? When would God be merciful enough to let him die?
The sight of Clive pulling out pincers and a piece of lead sent anxiety through Timothy's limbs. Timothy's nakedness became more apparent to him and he glanced down at his penis with trepidation.
“You would look at that,” remarked Clive. “Do you know why we call you Christmas?”
“No.”
“Cause you're gonna get lit up like a Christmas tree for impure thoughts. Impure thoughts about your sister.”
“They know all about those, you little pervert,” added a goofy sounding voice, weighing down Timothy's mind even further.
With the initial touch of the pincers, Timothy's body jolted.
“Keep still you pansy,” complained Clive.
The spreading of Timothy's urethra sent a warping shock upward into his brain. With the insertion of the lead came unbearable pain and his head jerked backward like he'd been punched in the face. Then his head sank forward in a daze.
The door shut and Timothy was left alone to rot with that unbearable stinging.
Amid the disorientation, the goofy sounding voice returned. “That's all it was ever really for, you loser. All you were ever really for, you loser. Never even got to have a girlfriend, you loser...”
The weight of the voice fell over his eyes, causing tears to fall, and silently he wept.