Mangled Away and Left Alone

Prologue (Breeding Death)

Melinda Lockard smiled as she sat, legs spread on the defiled toilet, which was loaded with the shit, within a truck-stop bathroom. A robust explosion of blood left her clit. She was screaming, half in pain, the other half . . . pure glee. Her first son was now nothing more than an aborted fetus, inert and silent like the snow, floating in a brown mesh of piss and feces.

Her face was sweat sodden and her eyes were teary. A grin of pure lunacy lay exposed on her face.

She looked in between her trembling legs, her scraggly hair draping her face. She could see the infant below, head exposed by a blade of light, the rest concealed by a consuming shadow. Its flaming black head was staring up at her through empty sockets.

A tear dropped from her left eye and she immediately lifted her head.

The lamp above was a dim, gloomy source of light. She leaned back got lost in a perpetual ferris wheel of thought for a short moment, thinking about her ex-boyfriend, Ronnie Haze and his dazzling grey eyes. That fucker had raped her until she bled, leaving her wallowing in pain. He dropped her off at her mother's house afterwards, pushing her out the door while the van was still strolling along at thirty or so miles per hour. Melinda broke a few ribs and was severly scraped---road rash---because of the fall. Her mother screamed at the sight of her bleeding daughter and brought her inside the house, catered to her wounds, and drove her to the hospital immediately.

The next day she stopped by a local pharmacy in Palmdale and took the test. She tested positive. Ronnie had gotten her pregnant that night on that creaking bed. A fear more pugnant than the effluvuim of a corpse smoldered like a smoke smothered cigar in her head.

The effects of remeberance had taken a frightening toll on her. She didn't want to leave the bathroom. The thought of her mother's worried face as she stared into her eyes made Melinda want to crawl into the toilet with the fetus and rot away.

Instead of doing that she started shuffling through a list of names in her mind. After delving through her clouded imagination for a lengthy period of time she conjured up a name. She whispered it in the penetrating silence.

Chapter One: Rapt Around the Mask

(Note: This chapter is unfinished)

"Where the fuck is he, Jared?" asked Sadie enforcively, supporting her weight on the kitchen counter, the palms of her hands depositing sweat onto the hardwood.

Jared looked around from his seat at the dinner table about five feet away from her. "Who are you talking about." He looked slightly perplexed, but you could see it in his eyes---he knew what she was talking about.

He took a soup-spoon full of Cherrios out of the bowl, which he had set out before him. He lifted the spoon towards his mouth, eyes concentrated on Sadie and---

"You mother fucker!" She threw up her arms in frustration and started striding towards him, her hourglass figure moving side to side beneath tight black jeans. "You twist your mouth around lies! You know exactly what I'm talking about, so answer me straight!"

He had seen worse anger out of Sadie over their years together. Instead of arguing he set his spoon in the half finished cerial and stood up, pushing his dark brown hair out of his face. "Alright," he said, "I'll answer you straight. But the truth wont be pretty." He walked away, disappearing into the living room.

She stamped out of the kitchen to follow him, her velvty hair bouncing behind her, the lustrous curls looking nearly metallic. Jared wasn't very reknowed for telling the truth. Sadie found herself overtaken by a nominal curiousity which, consequently, eased her anger, but not completely.

Jared walked out of the living room and through the sliding glass doors, into their bleak, porely decorated backyard where the grass lay all about, scattered in dying patches, serving as a carpet below a couple of arcane josua trees.

Sadie went out with him, a frigid breeze of winter air welcoming her out in the open.

They both stood there, side by side, hand in hand. A fat tear trailing down Sadie's milky white cheek.

Death was in the air.

They were standing within the creaking shack staring down at a mutilated mesh of flesh and bone, half devoured on the ground. It was their beloved german shepard, Faded , nothing more than scattered rags on the hardwood floor. A huge hole gaped where the dog's stomach used to be, innards spilling out from under the tattered rim of the hole.