The Basement

Written By: Samuel J. Hoppe

“Good morning! So what part of your body would you like cut off today?” 

“Uhhhmm.. Uhhh… uhmmm.” 

“Oh, that's right, I cut your tongue out yesterday. Oh! Lucky me! I guess I get to pick.”

I was forced to watch as this psycho woman meticulously picked a knife out of her tools of torture. She slowly walked around his bound and naked body, dragging the tip of the blade across his flesh as she walked. She stopped in front of him.

“Oh! I know!” 

The knife was plunged directly into his eye. Howling cries from my best friend echoed inside my brain. Tears fell down my face, which surprised me because I thought I had cried them all away. The woman pulled the knife out of his eye socket but the knife didn't just slide back out, the eye came with it. A loud squelching noise erupted from the socket and so did the optic nerve. Once the optic nerve was fully extended the eye slid off the knife then dropped, slapping against his chest with a loud wet slap. The woman laughed hysterically. 

“What a great choice! Can you still see from it? I reckon not. Hm, shame you cant tell me. Maybe I'll try that again with you.”

She smirked as she turned and pointed the knife at me.

“All in due time.” She smiled then turned her attention back to my best friend.  

“Ohh! What great fun! I think I'll do the other one tomorrow. But for now it's time to clean up and go get some starbys! You guys want any?”

She glanced at me. My mouth gagged, hands tied down to the arms of a chair, feet tied to the legs of the chair, also naked. I didn’t move. She then glanced back at my best friend. His was tied to a thick wooden pole by his hands and feet, with his hands being tied above his head.

“No? Ugh, you guys are really missing out.”

She put the knife down and proceeded up the stairs. For now I was safe, but as soon as he dies she's going to move onto me and he doesn't look like he's going to last much longer. I’ve got to get out of here. 

“I’m back!” The woman called as she unlocked the door to the basement. She walked down the stairs carrying a brown paper bag in one hand and a coffee with a large amount of whipped cream on top. 

“I got some fun new toys for you!” She said as she poured a variety of hardware and kitchen tools onto her torture table. 

I could see two small knives, sewing needles with thread, a toaster, a can of gasoline, and a large saw. 

A toaster? What the hell is she planning on doing with that? I thought to myself. 

“Hmm where to start?” The woman asked herself as she looked over her new tools. 

“Ah, why don't I have you choose?” She said as she spun on her heels to face me. 

The woman walked over and pulled my gag from my mouth. 

“So which new toy should I try out first?” 

“Fuck you, you stupid bitch! I’ll never choose!” I roared. 

“What’d you say to me?” the woman whispered. All the joy left her body, her expression distorted. She darted towards the table grabbing the closest things she could. The two small knives. She rushed back over to me and started stabbing me repeatedly in the neck. 

“I am not a stupid bitch! This is what you two deserve! For what you did to me!” The woman yelled as she continuously stabbed. 

“You two kidnapped me! You assaulted me for months! But I finally got you! You both got lazy, and careless. You thought it'd be fun to come down here and torment me after a long night of drinking. Ha! You fools passed out drunk on the floor. You practically dropped the keys to my chains in my lap. You’re the stupid bitch!” and with that the woman stabbed me one last time. I was dead. 

“Fuck! I was gonna put his dick in the toaster!” the woman yelled, disappointed that she didn't make the man suffer more. She turned to the man tied to the pole, the same pole she had been tied to for months. 

“I think I'm done here.” she said softly.

She grabbed the can of gasoline and started pouring it on the man tied to the pole then moved towards the dead man tied to the chair, pouring a little extra on him. She continued pouring as she walked up the basement stairs, towards the front door. Upon reaching the front door she tossed the gas can into the house and stepped onto the front porch. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out a match box. She stared at the unlit match for a moment then lit it and threw it. It ignited. The fire traveled quickly down the trail of gas. Within moments the pained groans of the man still tied to the pole reached her ears. She smiled. She was finally free. 

The End.