Chapter 7: The Butcher
Trigger Warning, Some Villains and other characters within this piece of fiction do not reflect the IRL views of the author, and This Novel Will contain very extreme themes, some actions will not make logical since because of the character's psychosis; some of these characters will try to logically rationalize the irrational. Which Incudes Extreme Violence, Gore, Torture, and Corse language. Will feature Adult Themes through out, sometimes making light of great trauma.
There is no Intentional subtext to suggest any of the characters political, or worldview is reflected by the Author some characters are to be driven by chaos. In this post apocalyptic, wasteland.
WILL NEVER INCLUDE NTR.
Summary of Chapter 6
David Hughes postpones plans with Belle due to an urgent need to set up the Project Q test site in the desert. He calls Arnold to confirm the team and equipment, including a portable Holovision device, are ready. Upon reaching the desolate yet oddly beautiful location, David oversees the diligent work of robots and human workers to construct the test site. Despite Belle's concerns about the ethical implications of using highly capable robots, David argues that they're merely tools. The conversation prompts David to reflect on the importance of their mission, and he reassures Belle while affirming his commitment to the project. He ends the call embracing his leadership role, filled with pride as they push forward to establish the foundations of Project Q, ensuring its success for everyone involved.
In the desert wasteland area of the Project Q installation site, David Hughes witnesses Arnold's rapturous obsession come to life in the formidable laser turrets being erected. These cutting-edge sentinels, powered by a symphony of sensors and sophisticated AI, promise to render the sky an impenetrable fortress, incinerating threats before they can whisper danger. Yet, amidst the technological marvel, David senses a foreboding, as their ambitions flirt perilously with moral precipices.
Enter Miranda, the siren of marketing, her arrival heralding a turbulent tide of commerce and conquest. She and Arnold wax eloquent on the power at their fingertips, envisioning a future where fear secures their fortune. Project Q, they boast, will become the guardian deity of a trembling populace. David smiles, but it's a facade masking his internal disquiet—he fears they may be conjuring a beast they cannot contain. Will their daring dance with dominion set the skies ablaze, or ignite their own downfall?
Chapter 7:
Warning Contains graphic gore and torture.
The silence is deafening, or at least I believe it to be so. The darkness is absolute, or perhaps the lights are merely shrouded. The one thing that is undeniably clear, however, is the stench - the reek of decay, of death long past. The putrid, salty tang of old, oxidized, coagulated blood fills pallet, a grim reminder of the fate that may await me.
A voice echoes through the void, a low hum that seems to vibrate in the very air around me. "Hmmmmmm," it drones, an elongated expression of deep contemplation. The sound of metal meeting metal begins to fill the space, a rhythmic clanging that is soon followed by the sharp, staccato snaps of a familiar grill lighter setting off the paseo electric crystal. The acrid scent of smoke soon wafts my way, confirming that a fire has been kindled. The sound of something being rubbed against another surface follows, then the voice trails off into a small coughing fit.
"Boss wants to know what you know," the voice growls, a menacing edge to its tone.
I attempt to speak, to protest or plead, but find that my mouth is stuffed with some unknown material. I can't even manage a gag. My senses begin to overwhelm me, and I feel the all-too-familiar feeling burlap sack being pulled away. The sight that greets me is one of horror - countless old, decaying bodies hang from meat hooks, a grotesque display of death.
"Let me help you with that," the voice says, taking on a tone of false politeness. With a swift motion, the speaker's metal hand grasps the gag that has been keeping me silent, tearing it away and leaving a painful burn across my cheek.
"Ah!" The scream rips itself from my throat, a pained cry that is abruptly cut off as a searing pain explodes across my face. The speaker's metal hand has delivered a vicious blow, blunting my shout and busting my lip. Blood trickles down my chin, marring my once-pretty face.
"Shut the fuck up," the voice snarls, "unless I ask you to speak." The the wicked man attempts to assert control over the grim, makeshift butcher hall.
"Listen-"He pummels into my chest this time, "Ah!" I screamed, he grabbed my arm, gripping so tight causing immense pain, I heard a crunch as my humerus shattered under his mechanical grip, blood beginning to leak between each segmented knuckle of his grip. Causing me to scream more.
The searing pain from the slap was intense, but the metal hand of the huge man made it even worse, boiling my scream. He attempted to regain control of his butcher shop, but I refused to remain silent. When he pummeled my chest this time, I screamed even louder, and he grabbed my forearm, gripping so tight that it caused immense pain. I heard a crunch as my radius and ulna shattered under his mechanical grip, blood beginning to leak between each knuckle of his grip. Causing me to scream more.
"Shit, I forgot," the creepy man said, loosening his grip. "That was a nervous reaction. I shouldn't punish you when you just... ya know...react." He looked ashamed, but I couldn't tell if he truly meant it.
"My friends call me the butcher," he said, pointing to the various dead bodies hanging from metallic meat hooks. "It's just that I get carried away when I smell fresh meat." He pointed to my now shattered right arm.
"Now that we've both calmed down," he began, "you are to tell me what you at UDA are working on, and give me those details! Or, well, we can continue to see if there is a limit to pain." He again pointed to the dead people and the flies that cling to them. "I often get carried away!" he shouted, and smiled at his punchline.
The creepy man was distracted, though, as he started looking closer to one of the dead bodies. He found a tasty finger with a maggot wriggling on it and broke it off with his metal hand. He then took a big bite out of it, savoring the taste. I remain silent and unresponsive as shock begins to set in.
The pain is unbearable, but I'm not giving up. The taste of fresh blood and sweat is a reminder of my struggle. I must survive this nightmare. As the earthquake subsided, I heard the dull thud of bodies and hooks crashing to the ground, followed by a sickening thud - the butcher, unable to retain his balance, had fallen hard.
The impact had dislodged the fallen corpses from above, sending them cascading down. One particularly large body smashed into me, sending me sprawling against the wooden chair I was fastened to. Due to the force, the chair snapped, releasing me from its hold.
Despite the agony of my shattered and useless arm and the pain that radiated throughout my body, I staggered to my feet releasing the ropes that bound my legs. My eyes were drawn to the door - my only hope for escape. I maneuvered my way around the rubble, eager to flee this heinous place.
In the warehouse, an eerie sight greeted me. I beheld cryptic symbols, not unlike those I had seen within the musty pages of some archaic Wiccan text. I could not shake the feeling of having used to know what these books meant when I learned of the occult.
I'm sprinting towards the warehouse opening, my heart pounding in my chest. I dodge random debris and the remnants of occult rituals - candles, chalk drawings, and God knows what else. The stench of death and decay is thick in the air, making me gag. I can almost taste freedom, almost feel the cool night air on my face.
But then, I hear it. The growl. The Butcher. He's awake, and he's pissed. His footsteps echo through the warehouse, each one louder than the last. I push myself harder, my legs burning from the effort. I can't stop now. I won't.
Suddenly, I hear the clanking of metal. A chain, maybe. I don't have time to look back, to confirm my suspicions. I just run. But it's too late. A searing pain rips through my upper right leg, and I look down to see a meat hook embedded in my flesh. I scream, the sound echoing through the warehouse. I stumble, falling to the ground. The hook pulls taut, yanking me back.
The Butcher is laughing now, "Fresh meat! Where are you going?" he yells a deep, menacing sound that sends shivers down my spine. He starts to pull me back towards him, leaving a trail of my blood on the cold, concrete floor. I try to fight, to pull myself free, but the pain is too much. I'm at his mercy now. And I know, deep down, that there will be none.
The Butcher's laughter echoes through the warehouse, bouncing off the cold, concrete walls. He's enjoying this, savoring every moment of my pain and fear. I can feel the hook digging deeper into my leg as he pulls me towards him, leaving a trail of my blood on the floor.
I try to fight, to pull myself free, but the pain is too much. I'm weak, my body shaking from the effort. I know I can't win, not like this. But I won't give up. I can't. I claw at the ground, trying to find something, anything, to hold onto. But there's nothing. Just cold, hard concrete.
The Butcher is getting closer now. I can hear his heavy breathing, feel his hot, fetid breath on my neck. Smell of poison, and ether, I shudder, my body trembling with fear. I know what's coming next. I've seen it happen to others, seen the lifeless bodies hanging from the meat hooks. I won't let that be me. I won't.
With a surge of strength, I pull against the hook, ignoring the pain. I hear a tearing sound, and for a moment, I think I've broken free. But then, the pain intensifies, and I realize I've just made it worse. I scream, the sound echoing through the warehouse.
The Butcher laughs, a deep, menacing sound that sends shivers down my spine. He's enjoying this, savoring every moment of my pain and fear. I know I'm at his mercy now. And I know, deep down, that there will be none. But I won't give up. I can't. I'll keep fighting, until the very end. Even if it kills me.
As did the darkness envelope me earlier, it now embraces me again as I go unconscious…