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Abdul-fattah
January 2nd, 2013, 03:56 AM
So I wrote a story "The Cure" about a psychologist who tries to find a cure against sociopathic personality disorder (see link in signature).
To warm people up to the story, I thought I'd make use of some of the story-ideas I had been playing around with and make some short-stories about all the criminals featered in The Cure, and how they ended up in jail.
Here's the first:




More then just dolls.

It struck Nathalie as rather odd, not to find Vince waiting for her on his knees when she opened her front door. Well, technically his front door, since he legally owns the place. But since she has a contract saying that she owns him; it logically follows-. Wait I'm getting distracted. It logically follow that he aught to be sitting on his knees by the door to greet his Mistress as she comes home. Instead she heard his voice coming from the bedroom.
“Ah, you're home. Just in time.”
In time for what? She had already started walking trough the hallway as he suddenly appeared at the bedroom door. The hallway wasn't particularly dirty, but she could tell he hadn't done his chores of the day nonetheless. Next to a set of chores that were to be repeated daily; he also had weekly chores. Thursdays was vacuuming and mopping the floor. That was always easiest to check when she came home. Unlike the Monday and Friday chores; which he had neglected on numerous occasions and even almost gotten away with twice. She confronted him right away.
“The floors are dirty Vince.”
“Yes, I know. I didn't have time to make dinner either.”
She slapped him in the face. It came as second nature after all this time. She almost felt guilty when the suddenly realized he had said he hadn't had the time. Almost. She soon rationalized out of the guilt thinking that he had deserved it either way for his cheeky tone of voice.
“How did you not have the time?”
“I spent my time sitting on my ass, fooling around on the internet.”.
Another slap to the face. The same cheek with the same hand. She rarely alternated slaps. Nathalie was very predictable. Especially to Vince, who always seemed to know just which buttons to press.
“You know I can't let this go unpunished, right?”
“Yes I know Mistress, you must punish me for sitting on my ass all day.”
That wasn't a very witty response. Something was definitely off about Vince today. She pushed the thought away.
“You bet I am, and I know just the thing for you. I'll give you a choice. Go and set everything up.”
She didn't have to explain any further. Vince knew exactly what choice he would have. A couple minutes later he was waiting for her, sitting naked and blindfolded on a chair in the bedroom. Laying on the ground around the chair were various cuffs, chains and robes scattered about. Nathalie selected whichever suited her whims, and bound his hands behind his back and feet to the chair. She then fastened another chain from his hands to the base of the chair.
“Stand up!”
The chain had just enough lean-way to allow him to stand, but not enough to stretch his legs. Now all she needed was something painful that she could place onto the chair. So far she had used something different every time. That way he never really knew what to expect. His choice obviously, was to either stand up or sit down. Of course if he stood up for to long, without being able to stretch his legs, he would have muscle-cramps. He would bear it at first; but eventually it builds up to much and he must sit down. Apparently, she had selected a cactus-plant this time. The jolt of pain forced him to stand up again. For now. He grinned.
“I'll meet you here in an hour. We'll see if you will still be grinning then.”
Vince just replied with more defiance.
“Oh, I'm afraid I won't make it, I have other plans.”
“Open your filthy mouth!”
As soon as he did she crammed a ball gag inside. The previous times when Nathalie had given him a choice; she was already be back after 15 minutes. That's where the real entertainment kicks in. By then the cramps will already be so painful Vince will have to sit down for longer periods of time and bear the other pain. Another 10 minutes and he's shifting positions so fast; he's practically humping the cactus. This time around though, she was to angry with him to watch, so instead she went on with her predictable daily routine. She started up the computer and want to the bar to poor herself a drink. Well, the pouring wasn't routine. That would be Vince's job. But she had the feeling he was predisposed today, so she didn't bother to ask. By now the PC aught to be running, and so she went to check her Facebook profile. Immediately she noticed the red symbols in the upper left corner. Red symbols signal new notifications; and the numbers next to it were dauntingly high. She wasn't used to a high number of notifications since she had only befriended the people who are actually very close to her. A few of her colleagues, friends and family. A total of no more than-. What? Nineteen friends? What happened to the other twenty-something people she had befriended? Something must have happened, the notifications, the loss of contacts. She didn't bother to click on the 35 new friend-request yet, even though she found the number alarmingly high after just one day. Instead she clicked on the personal messages. A list of eleven new messages popped up. Some colleagues, some of her mother's friends from church and some other nutters. The first one that caught her eye was the one from her mother.
“You 'r not my daughter anymore!!”
Oh my God what happened here? She didn't bother to read every message, but as she glanced over the others, she could tell most of them were written in anger. It didn't make sense. Nathalie started feeling dizzy. She must be dreaming. So much doesn't make sense today. Vince! He was acting peculiar all day! And what did he say about the Internet today? She scrolled down on her profile page to the part where it said;
“In a relationship with Vince Miller.”
As she called up his profile on the link. The first picture on his wall was of her in a leather dress holding a whip. When did he? Wait it's not just a picture, it's a link to a website. Above it Vince had commented:
“I wanted you all to know why I worshiped Nathalie instead of Christ, so I made this website to preach to you the gospel of Nathalie.”
She took a deep breath, and then clicked to go to that website. In a blink of an eye her world came crashing further down. All the way down . All those pictures, each one bringing back so many memories of so many naughty things. No even worse, they aren't pictures. They're videos! Thoughts raced trough her head in quick succession: Hidden camera's? When? How long? Why? Betrayal! And with that last thought, another memory. She remembered herself threatening him,
“If you ever betray me Vince, I'm gonna take our big kitchen knife and cut your balls of with it.”
It wasn't a single memory . She could instantly recall her saying this on at least three occasions. And then came the first emotion to relieve her of the initial surprise. Anger. More than that, rage. It filled her. How could he! She picked up the screen, threw it to the floor. Didn't even wait to see the effect. Ran towards the kitchen. Passed the hallway and screamed;
“Say goodbye to your balls!”
She was so filled with rage she hadn't even noticed the kitchen-table and walked straight towards the sink where the knife-block usually stands. It was missing, not just the knife she was looking for, the whole block was gone. If he thinks that'll keep me...
She turned her head left and right while, not so much to look, but in a desperate attempt to think. Then, she suddenly froze. It took a second to register, but she remembered seeing something from the corner of her eye. She turned back to the kitchen table to give it a more thorough look. On it was a displayed of various items. Left-to-right they were:
A bottle of her favorite brand of Vodka and two small bottles filled with pills in front of it. A noose made of small metal shackles. A Colt Single Action Army Revolver with some bullets laying around it. And finally to the right, furthest from her point of view; the set of knives, without the block that normally holds them. Why would he even assume that I-? She reached towards the knife, still determined to cut off his balls. But by the time she held it in her hands she realized that they were over as a couple. This was an end-game no matter what. And if she'd hurt him, she'll have to pay the price eventually. She wasn't about to go to prison for some jackass that didn't love her anymore. That was about when a new emotion took over. Pain, incredible pain. Had he actually ever loved her? Her knees were growing weak. The knife fell to the ground. Revenge had suddenly become pointless. Not just the fear of what comes after; the concept in itself. It wouldn't change anything. She chimneyed down with her back against the kitchen-cabinet. How long had he been planning this? Sure their relationship was not in any way ordinary. But had it all been just a game for him? And the shame of it! How could I have let him play me so easily. She needed a drink. It took a huge strain on her mentally; but she managed to stand up just long enough to grab the bottle from the kitchen table before she fell back down. So many things about him that never seemed to make any sense finally all fell into place. Now that the roller-coaster of their relationship was over now she finally had a moment to just sit there and rethink everything about him that didn't make sense. She definitely deserved a drink. So she drank. And then some.



***



Vince was sitting on a chair, hands cuffed behind his back. Again. This time the chair was in interrogation room 2 of the police department. He didn't bother looking up as detective Berkley walked in. This must all be some desperate bluff. They had taken him under arrest on the suspicion of murder about an hour ago and still nobody had so much as asked him his name or taken a fingerprint. They were underestimating him if they thought he would crack under such tedious torture.
“So Mr. Miller, ready to confess? Or should I say boast?”
How could he have confirmed his idea so quickly? Well obviously it would come up, it was his house after all. But still, as far as the police were concerned, anybody could be strapped on a chair in his house considering the dead brunette in the kitchen. Vince looked up in curiosity and smiled.
“How'd you figure out my name so fast?”
For a second there, he sounded like a child on Christmas morning. Berkley took his time. Moved one of the chairs, sat down, rearranged his sleeves, then finally answered.
“Been keeping my eye on you for some time now Vince. I'm dead-certain you're the Delaware-Dollkeeper.”
Vince laughed with surprise.
“What?”
“Read the newspaper Vince? That's what they are calling you. Nine young girls in the prime of their life, robbed of what could have been.”
Vince was still finding this all very amusing.
“No need to get all melodramatic about it.”
“I was so close on your trail, just needed something to stick. And then all of a sudden; nothing. 8 months and not a single kill. Playing house with your latest murder victim.”
“You mean suicide? You don't actually think you'll convince a jury I strapped myself to a cactus.”
Vince was loving this, taunting the detective. This was his moment. His five minutes of fame. Time to step up.
“I don't need you on cactus-girl Vince. But it will finally get me a search warrant to look at all your other properties. I'm sure we'll find something. There's always something.”
Vince shrugged his shoulders and closed his eyes a second.
“Be sure to tell me what you think about the blond with the big knockers.”
Berkley frowned in anguish, if a life was in danger he'd better act fast.
“ The house on riverside drive. There's a Hustler-magazine on the bedside table.”
Berkley was standing up and moving towards the door smiling.
“Mock all you will. I'll get you Vince.”
Although he couldn't show it, the detective's grin irritated the hell out Vince. Not the idea of life in prison, but that grin. I have to be in control. I'll wipe that grin of your face detective. Nobody dominates me.
“Hey before you leave, aren't you curious about cactus-girl?”
Berkley thought for a second whether he wanted to play into his hand. Then turned his head towards him.
“Yes?”
“I needed a challenge. I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy cutting those girls up. But with you slackers not catching on it got boring real quick.”
Berkley managed to leave the room, without his grin though.

Dominique
January 7th, 2013, 12:58 AM
This was really amazing and intriguing. Through the entire plot of it, especially the beginning where you'd suspect the cactus-girl to be the bad person at first, while really it was all just a mental game turned around on her. I loved the character Vince especially. Very descriptive of his thinking, while not really going into who he is as a person, by appearance nor actions, until stated later by the other characters. Really really amazing.

Abdul-fattah
January 7th, 2013, 05:20 PM
I'm glad you liked It.
I was afraid most poeple would be discouraged to continue reading, thinking it is just another bdsm story. Thanks for the feedback.

Olly Buckle
January 12th, 2013, 03:33 PM
Hi, a few things, I am not going to go into everything, but I will make a start. I am guessing by your name, location and the sort of things they are that English is not your first language.
Firstly the title, check out the difference between 'then' and 'than', some Americans also mix the two, I think it is a pronunciation thing.

In the intro
to find a cure against sociopathic personality disorder a cure for, against would be a preventative, like a vaccination.

'She opened the door' so for consistency it should be 'he owned the place', 'she had a contract' and 'she owned him'

"It logically followed that he ought"

"to be sitting on his knees" 'kneeling', or, more dramatically 'On his knees', sitting is something you do on your bum.

"walking through the hallway"

"when he suddenly appeared at the bedroom door."

"he hadn't done his chores of the day" This is not incorrect, but in the context 'chores for the day' would serve better.

You do wander a bit with tense, but that is curable if you pay attention on an edit, I do it myself, those little words are always a problem, different languages use them different ways, my best advice would be to consider if the word has spatial, temporal or possessive connotations, they are the main one. Your command of English is good enough you should be able to think in an 'English' way.

Abdul-fattah
January 12th, 2013, 07:19 PM
Thanks for the feedback and advice. As always I appreciate it dearly. :)

2pebbles
January 14th, 2013, 03:31 PM
The way Vince thinks reminds me of Dexter, the TV show. If you haven't watched it, it's definitely worth a look in.

Abdul-fattah
January 15th, 2013, 05:37 PM
Yes I'm actually a fan of the show. However I was somewhat surprised you find them alike, in what way does he remind you, other than that they're both obviously sociopaths? I was trying to go for a unique personality. In fact in my book I'm hoping to show that there's actually a broad variety of sociopaths in all shapes and colors. But I hope you liked the story nonetheless. =)

2pebbles
January 18th, 2013, 07:42 PM
It was just the way in which he analysis things in his mind - the internal monologue aspect. The way he's assesses everyone's behavior and the intentions behind said behavior. I only just discovered the show so I'm on a Dexter binge at the moment. But yes, I enjoyed the read.

coolcold40
February 19th, 2013, 04:14 AM
The story left me with a lot of questions...I liked how it turned out and the fact Vince had to be in control.

I don't usually read these kinds of stories but I'm glad I read it.

Abdul-fattah
February 25th, 2013, 07:34 PM
Well, it's kind of supposed to do that, this short story along with some others i've been writing are writen specificly to make people wanna read "the cure" (see link in signature).
Eitherway, glad you liked it.