bowl.
“You’re drinking an awful lot,” he said aloud. He could hear the dog chain rattling in the far corner. He figured her thirst was a result of the lack of food he was giving her. That’s good, though. The more hungry she was, the better she would fight… at least that was his logic.
She had reluctantly, yet ferociously, got through her first three fights in bloody victories and now Larry was down to feeding her just four times a week.
Her next fight was tomorrow night and, now, he was getting a little worried about how much she was drinking. The last thing he needed was for this bitch to cramp up right in the middle of a good and bloody fight. He could lose a fucking bundle and that bothered him. He considered feeding her tonight. But then, again, maybe after the fight. Save it as a reward.
She moaned. A pitiful, painful, lonely kind of moan.
He made his way along the dark basement with his flashlight flickering, the batteries threatening to die on him at any moment; he shook the light violently.
“Cheap-assed batteries,” he grumbled. He stopped, shining the dimming light into the darkness, straining to see. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he asked in that high-pitched, shitty tone that most people use when they’re talking to a baby. He approached her corner, the dim beam of his light threatening to leave him. On the way, he came to his work bench against the wall and groped for some new batteries.
From the dark corner he could hear the dog chain clinking and dragging against the concrete floor. She was moving a little.
Larry found his new batteries, cussing himself for not replacing them before he came down. He turned on the fresh beam and turned towards the bitch’s corner.
He took two steps, his feet splashing in something wet. He looked down to see the small puddle he was standing in. His beam of light traced its source to an overturned water bucket a few feet away, then, he quickly shot the beam across the room to the dark corner.
She was gone! Only the tattered blanket and dirty pillow were there. The chain, anchored to the wall, led away from the bed to right.
Larry’s light streaked along to the wall and quickly found its target. She was there, huddled against the wall. Breathing heavily, chest heaving. Her dirty, scabbed, unkempt skin stretched across her ribs like a thin sheet of rubber.
Then, he saw her eyes. From under the stringy mass of disheveled hair, those eyes had a different look to them than usual. It was the same devilish look he had seen when she tore each of her opponents to pieces in the fight pit. A demonic gaze full of insanity that told him she was no longer human, but an animal with an unadulterated and insatiable taste for blood. Human blood.
In her left hand was the chain, which was no longer around her neck. In her right hand she held one end of an extension cord next to a power outlet on the wall.
A cold chill crawled up Larry’s spine and nestled into the base of his skull. His heart skipped a beat when he realized his mistake: coming down to the basement without his taser.
Larry quickly looked down. Next to his left foot in the puddle, barely noticeable, was the severed end of the extension cord, its exposed wires lying in the water.
It only took a second for Larry to figure out where all of the water had been going. And that was one second too long.
A sharp jolt flew through his body, gluing him to the floor when she shoved her end of the cord into the socket. The blinding pain filled every nerve ending of Larry's body. His vision went white. His flashlight hand shuttered as his body tensed. Every muscle ached. His heart felt as if it were going to explode.
Then it was over. He collapsed to the floor of the basement when she unplugged the cord.
She was on top of him instantly; unashamed of her nakedness as she jammed her thumbs into his eye sockets, making a sickening, sucking noise as if she had just dug them into a wet fruit. Her jagged finger nails gouged into his forehead and her hands yanked tufts of hair from his scalp.
Larry squirmed and groaned weakly, unable to respond; still stunned by the jolt of electricity but, no doubt, feeling the pain she was inflicting upon him. His flesh ripped in ribbons as she tore at his face like the animal he had turned her into.
She opened a geyser when her nails dug into his soft, vulnerable, throat tissue. Blood rushed out in pulsating gushes as his heart pounded in his chest.
Larry made a ghastly, gurgling noise as she ripped his throat apart; possibly his final attempt to scream out in pain.
Covered in blood, dirt, feces and urine, delirium had taken her over to the point that she couldn’t even remember her own name anymore.
How long had she been his bitch? Where was she? Where did it all begin?
Faint images of another life flooded her brain. A college. A party. Drinks with a handsome guy from out of town.
This handsome guy! This motherfucker! He wasn’t so handsome anymore. She let out a halfhearted chuckle at the thought.
She approached the stairs, her nude body covered in goose bumps from the cool breeze that flowed from up above.
Slowly, she made her way up towards the door. The blinding light of freedom made her eyes water and she rubbed them as something moved beyond her field of blurred vision when she reached the top of the stairs.
Suddenly, a sharp pain in her face.
The *SMACK* of skin on skin.
She fell back down the stairs and hit the floor… hard.
A figure appeared in the doorway at the top of the stairs.
Her blood was still boiling. Adrenaline rushing through her veins.
She shot up the stairs, too fast for whoever was at the top. In two strides she was at the door as it was closing. She bolted through it like a cannon ball and her fight for freedom began all over again.
Watch for Clive’s next
collection of horror tales in
MIND SHADOWS
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