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Prolific Writer
Join Date: Feb 2008
Location: Just west of the Cascade Mountains....couple miles from the pacific ocean puget sound
Gender: Male
Posts: 283
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from begining #5 continued any comments appreciated...
Zac rolled the table closer to the wall. He had been preparing for almost an hour, while Kera had been knocked out.
He moved her so she could see what he had in mind. The pause in the torture was deliberate. He was giving his
victim time to adjust, time to come to her senses, time to feel every vile moment for what it was.
Kera saw the reddish rubber bag hanging on the wall above her. The pain her mouth had become a throbbing ache.
No longer so acute as to distract her from watching for the next horror.
“I need to clean you out, little girl” Zac hissed. Reaching above her he began to pouring water from a gallon jug
into the bag. At first, she misunderstood. She thought he planned to drown her, but the water never passed her lips.
The tube in her mouth was so large, it would have been almost impossible to swallow fast enough to keep up. Instead
the water, a tepid seventy five degrees, began to fill her bowels. Immediately she understood. The coolness of the
water spread throughout her abdomen, filling her.
Another jug was hoisted up by the mad man who held her captive. He poured and squeezed the large, red bag
forcing the water to penetrate and expand her bowels. Looking under the table he saw foul, brown liquid leaking,
dripping around the hose. Enough. He raised the bucket to her cheeks, grasped the hose and with one fluid motion
pulled steadily. The tube was bloody and smeared with feces as it came out of her anus.
“Aww, did that hurt?’ He taunted her. Keras muffled scream had provoked his words.
In a rush of fluid and gas, her bowels emptied into the dirty metal bucket. The foul odor reached her nose and she knew he had kept the her shit.
“Now taste of what you are made, whore.”
He began a litany, while pouring the fresh waste of her into a funnel connected to her “feeding tube”.
“Eat of your corruption. Choke on the bile of all you have wrought. Your decadence feeds you” he chanted the
words while Kera struggled not to vomit on her own waste. She lost. Shit and puke sprayed from her nostrils. She
was about to pass out when the tube was abruptly jerked form her mouth. The contents of the tube dumped on her face
and chest, as an outrageous plume of blood, bile, shit, spit and puke blew from Keras Kelleys' mouth . Deep, racking
coughs came after. Kera was reduced to less than an animal. Her last instinct, raging hate was all she had. Anger, ravaging murderous abandon. No more tears.
“Youewww….fuckinggg…sick fuckinggg bastard” she yelled, slurring the words, drawing them out. Slurring because she had no front teeth.
“Fucking kill me now! You fuck faggot. Sick fuck I swear if you don’t kill me, I will kill you. I promise”.
“SILENCE” Zac bellowed in her ear. Literally making her ears ring with inhuman resonance.
“Fuck you” she screamed back.
“Aw, God, where are you. Please …please” Kera pleaded, again helpless, her resolve waning.
“I’m so sorry. Please stop this. Someone pleeeease.”
Inside Zac, Dio had retreated inward. What Zac was doing now, was all his own. Dio had never been a possessing
demon. He had guided, coaxed. Dios’ power of suggestion was unrivaled. Even Satan, himself, had used Dio.
Personally calling on him, because at times, finesse and subtlety were required, virtues, the prince of all lies, did not
possess. The first time Dio had entered Zac, he knew he possessed an extraordinary spiritual being. In the last eight
thousand years, Dio had entered scores of humans for various reasons. None felt like this monstrosity of a man.
Whenever he pulled away, he felt as if their roles were reversed. Dio felt invaded, though he knew that could not be.
No man had yet discovered how to exist on the spiritual plane. Dio had finite knowledge, but it was eons ahead of
mans. He knew that man was close to the truth through science. Dio knew one day man would discover the other
realms, quantum physics, membrane therapy, relativity. Yes, they were close. They had already deduced eleven
dimensions, of course, Dio knew there were twelve. Dio was an unusual benevolent demon. More artistic, more
creative than destructive. Dio knew that the evil prince did not like to use him, but the fallen angel had practical
abilities useful to the cause. Still, this creature he was manipulating now, was the most evil being he had ever
encountered, except for Lucifer, himself. Dios greatest liability had been simple vanity. Dio had not an evil light in his
body…if you could call it that. Practical, he did what he was told. He was powerful. He was a skilled warrior.
Mostly, he was curious and thoughtful. What he didn’t realize and would not have believed possible, was that against
this human, Dio was vulnerable.
Ric Lay was at the Nashville archdiocese. One of Rics best friends was special counsel and a bishop in the service
of Cardinal Xavier Jerrocoh. Ric knew Bishop Adams was still at prayer and devotion, it was only 8:45 a.m.
Thursday.
Ric entered the main sanctuary. He has never ceased to be moved by the beauty, the reverent silence of Gods house.
Ric walked gazing at the stations of the cross, the marble statues were real saints, Mary, Jesus, Michael, Gabriel,
Raphael. As always, he was drawn to the Archangels. Michael, the supreme general of Jesus’ heavenly army. Gabriel,
herald, message bearer of the gospels. Raphael, companion, giver of strength and Gods healer. He loved them all. He
loved what they symbolized, love and power, greatness and humility, war and peace.
Just being here in this place where God is declared almighty, gave Ric strength and peace. He took a deep breath,
genuflected beside the pew, crossed himself and sat down. He pulled down the kneeler, planted both knees on the
padded rail and began to pray.
First he gave thanks. Next, Ric asked for help, strength and wisdom. After giving glory to God, Ric begged the Son
to protect those around him, before himself. To send warrior angels to battle by his side against the darkness and
principalities of evil, which he would soon be facing. His prayer was heard and answered instantly, because Ric had
put others ahead of himself, had asked for the protection for others first.. With that one simple act of selflessness, he
caused a gathering of angels anxious to go to his aid. Bishop James T Adams eased into the pew behind his close friend. Ric was enraptured. He continued to give glory and praise to the father and son. Being Catholic, he closed his prayer with a plea to Mary to look over his friends and family. Finished, he rose from his knees and sat silent in the pew. Bishop Adams cleared his throat before he spoke.
“Hello, my dear friend” he greeted Ric.
Ric turned to meet his eyes. “Jim, we have a problem.”
The fact that Ric dispensed with any formal greeting for the bishops station, confirmed the dire nature of the visit.
Although Adams had no talent for discerning the other worlds, he knew, all too well, his close friends’ incredible
abilities.
“I’m concerned, Jim. This time it’s worse. I can feel it. Jim, I don’t think I’m up to the task. I feel inadequate.”
Ric met the gaze of the bishops cool hazel eyes. He felt the love and compassion flowing from him. Adams was
seventy one years old, yet if one had to venture a guess, most would say, fifty five. Pure, clean living had preserved
the old cleric. Adams reached out and grasped the side of his anguished friends shoulders.
“Ric”, he said, “none of us are ever up to the task of fighting evil, you know this. We don’t have to be, my son, our
lord and savior has all dominion. We simply invoke His holy name and he will fight the battle for us”. Then as if
stating the obvious, “you know this”, Adams paused and chastising, he said, “Ric, don’t make any agreements with the
devouring lion…make no mistake. All doubt rests on the head of the deceiver”.
Rics’ body sagged slightly. Already he felt tremendous relief. “Thank you, your reverence”. He took the old
priests right hand in both of his and kissed the ring on his finger.
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