He made her keep a secret for him and he made sure she never spoke a word of it…

The water, the rocks, it’s beautiful isn’t it? An ocean that never runs dry, waves that never sleep… Tell me. Have you ever had to keep a secret?

Oh dear… I have forgotten. You are not one of us. For you see… I can hear nothing of life, only lost memories and voices of the dead find their way to me. Though, there was one exception. Her name was Donna. She couldn’t tell me her story but she offered me a chance to re-live it. Seeing how she had rope burns on her pale skin and dark menacing bruises on her cheeks, curiosity overpowered fear. I accepted her invitation. She grabbed my arm and pulled me closer. With open wide, I saw an empty blackness as she swallowed me whole. The next thing I knew, I was warped into her world.

Abandon the present. Free your thoughts. Open your eyes to a world so cruel it questions God’s very existence.

Smashing and crying. Singing and yelling. So many sounds and yet she could hear none of it.

Numb.

She taught herself how to numb the senses. There was no use in hoping for an end. In her everlasting tunnel of gloom, there was no light and there was no end. She blindly stumbled through it like she did in her cell as they smashed her against the walls. She curled up with her arms wrapped around her knees. They continued thrashing her until she vomits. It gave them great pleasure seeing her on the floor, a mess under their feet. Hurting her made them feel superior when in reality, they had lost total control, surrendering themselves to the heart of darkness. After beating her to a pulp, they pinned her down like a fallen angel and took turns her. She never fought back. It was better this way not fighting back. She liked it here. This abuse was nothing compared to what she had suffered at home.

Her brother, Jacque, was a doctor. He helped people get well in the daytime while at night, he helped people die. In the hours of darkness, he brought beautiful girls home with him, one for each night. They were to be his forever. Jacque would take them in to their home and coaxed them until they fell madly in love with him. Then, he’d shove them down into the basement, leaving them confused and afraid. They weren’t alone in the basement. Donna was already there, strapped to a chair with her eyes closed. The girls would scream at the sight of her. A few tried to undo the rope bound to Donna’s arms while most of them wailed and cried like mad women, banging on the door in desperation. If only she had learned to mute these kind of sounds. The night was still young and this was only the beginning. Donna wanted to help them. She would have told them to kill themselves before her sadistic brother came back down but no, she couldn’t. She had lost her tongue. Jacque made her keep a secret for him and he made sure she never spoke a word of it.

He carved out most of her tongue and burned the rest. Jacque was careful about the amount of pain and blood loss. He needed her alive.

Alive… to watch him experiment with torture and death. One night, the basement door opened and the girl tried to make her escape but of course, it was no use. He held her back with one strong arm and threw her back down the steps. He approached Donna, ignoring the hysterical girl clawing at his back, and called her “la muta de nuit” the silent woman of the night. She didn’t want to see what was going to happen to the girl. She didn’t want to hear the piercing screams of pain or the rusty noise of the saw… but the choice was not hers. It was part of his joy to have his little sister see what he does down in the basement. She tried to keep her eyes closed but he opened them wide with his rough fingers. She could see his handsome face smiling in the swinging light of the bare bulb. He pinned her eyelids up so she could not blink. His cold hands made her shiver. Her eyes started to sting. Jacque gave her a kiss on the lips before he turned his full attention to the terrified girl behind him. With one swift motion, he lifted the struggling figure up onto the iron table, chaining her down with blood stained leather straps. The iron table itself reeked of blood.

He stood on the side so Donna could see everything, the helpless squirming body and his nimble hands at work. Jacque took his time breaking every bone in her body. He broke her fingers first then her wrists and arms. Her cries echoed loud and clear. Sometimes, Donna wondered why no one heard it. She heard every one of them until her ears bled. He shattered her ribs with a hammer. Cradling the girl’s head, he lifted her up so Donna could see the agony on her face. When the girl fainted he injected her with a liquid that kept her conscious. He wanted to hear the girl scream and see her jerk to the very end.

Donna wanted to close her eyes but she couldn’t. Her body shook uncontrollably. She wanted to cry but no tears fell from her sore dry eyes. How many times had she seen it happen? How many more times would she have to watch before it all ended?

There was a time when Donna tried to escape the slaughter house. She was unlucky and he found her. He dragged her back as she clawed at the pavement with her nails. They shredded from her fingers leaving a trail of grounded flesh. He ripped her apart that evening until every inch of her body went numb from an overdose of pain. From that day forward, she never thought of running away again.

When Jacque had his fill for the night, he took his hammer and pounded the girl’s face in, stopping only when he had replaced it with a mass of torn carnage and blood. She wasn’t unconscious. She was dead. Using his bare hands, he opened wide, tearing her bottom jaw completely off. Donna lunged forward and heaved. She never found out what he did with the body afterwards but she knew for sure where he kept their unrecognizable heads.

One day, Donna found herself free from the chair. Jacque was in a good mood. The rope, her second skin, fell dead on the ground. He left for work. She was all alone in the house. Her first instinct was to claw her ears and rip out her eyes but she suppressed her urges long enough to think. She was the only one who could end this. There was no other way and so she waited patiently for her brother’s return. He came through the front door with a new girl. Donna flew at his throat and slit it with a pair of scissors. The girl fled the scene as Donna continued stabbing her brother in a frenzy. As the blood splattered across her face, she whimpered like a wounded pup. Her large insane eyes absorbed the color red like a thirsty fish. The police came. What they saw made them choke and gag on their own spit.

Donna’s face was found buried deep in her brother’s open chest. She was soaked in his blood. Donna cried long and hard. She was free from him and yet, she felt the blackhole inside of her grow. There was so much fear, pain, and hate in her heart but now, it was replaced by a void that could not be filled. They took her away and threw her in a crazy house. She stayed there until…

It was time. She took the unguarded syringe and plunged it right into her chest. The fluid dispersed and slowly paralyzed her heart. With the last of her strength, she tore the needle away, making a small gash in her skin. Blood seeped out, blooming like a red rose. It bloomed beautifully for her sacrifice. It bloomed quickly for her suffering. It bloomed dark red for her sins. Donna opened wide to greet him. She was going to meet her brother in the firey pits of hell. But before she could, she had to tell someone about his secret and about her own.

She chose me… like how I chose you…

Follow. Follow me up the stairs and into the room with the gable window.

Sykotica Notes: The eye is pretty Asian since it belongs to one Cyndi Wang. Yes, I ripped her eye out from her face. Forgive me.