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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1126957-Whispers
by Nova
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Drama · #1126957
A man is haunted by his past by the unintentional reminders of the present...
Dale held his left hand out flat to his partner while peering intently at the screws holding the ventilation plate in place.
‘I need the drill Harris, these are stripped…’
***
Psychiatrist Hector Johnson jerked his head up and looked at his empty office around him. His Bose radio was turned off, the door to the main hallway shut tight, and yet he had distinctly the whisper, ‘strip…’
***
‘Strip.’ Hector had ordered the girl sitting on the ratty hotel bed. She complied, brown eyes downcast, a tremble in her hands as she slid the loose dress from her shoulders, down her narrow hips to pool at her feet.
***
‘Sorry, man...remember Frank didn’t issue us a new one yet after the motor in the last one burnt out Monday? We’re going to have to make do with what we’ve got.’ Shaking his head, Dale accepted the hammer and flathead that Harris handed him in order to knock the heads off the useless screws.
***
THUMPA…THUMPA…THUMPA…Dr. Johnson looked around wildly, white faced and gasping, the report in front of him forgotten in shaking hands.
***
The girl’s eyes were squeezed shut tight and thin tears streaked from the outside corners. She lay naked and tense beneath him, fast shuddering breaths leaking past her gritted teeth. This made him angry to see her cry, to know that she didn’t want this, and that she only did because he had threatened to tell her parents about her secrets...He pushed into her harder, more violently…the headboard crashing against the wall…THUMPA…THUMPA…THUMPA…
***
Dale screamed and scratched his arm back from the fan blade that had snapped to life as he gently probed the motor’s connections. Harris rushed to the man’s side both trying to staunch the bleeding stump where Dale’s hand had been as well as swearing that they had turned off the correct breaker…
***
Dr. Johnson lurched to his feet clasping his left arm, the pounding of his heart turning into a searing pain in his chest, that scream echoing in his head. His eyes bulged as red droplets misted the air around him, agony ripping apart his chest, and then a painless darkness swallowed him...
***
The girl had been huddled on the bed wracking, loud, sobs tearing from her throat. Someone would soon hear and no matter what he said or did she would not stop. He grimaced and a rage filled him. Although horrified by his own actions, he seemed powerless to stop himself from grabbing the lamp from the table and smashing her across the face with it. Silently he beat her again and again…a fine red mist before him…until the sobbing ceased…
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1126957-Whispers