A boy not treated right gets revenge.
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Henry sat in the dark, searching the room with his mind. He was alone, except for a spider building her web in the corner. She’d been diligently working on it for the last hour. He reached into her with just a thought and felt the blood circulating through her tiny body. He felt her pulse race at the intrusion. Fear coursed through her. He pictured her heart contracting, squeezing tightly until the blood circulating was only a trickle. Then he let go and the blood rushed the tiny arteries. Moments later her brain exploded.
The creature’s death didn’t satisfy him. His anger grew and he reached through the doors, searching out the ones who had imprisoned him. She wasn’t hard to find, her mind was frenzied, chaotic with emotion. He searched her thoughts… she didn’t even know he was there, so unguarded was her state of mind. Henry smiled, pleased to see that it was he that consumed her mind. She was afraid of him, afraid of how he had made everything start to shake when he'd become angry. It is why she locked him in the room. But there was something else there… a desire to control him. She would do whatever she had to, to harness his power. While she thought of all the devious things she could do, her hand moved down her body. She was aroused by thoughts of torturing him, to steal what was his. Henry wrinkled his nose, disgusted. She was such a pathetic woman. He started to search for her heart, he would end her life as he did the spider’s, but then another thought occurred to him. She wanted to control him? Henry laughed. He would show her control.
He urged her hands down until they were plunged between her legs. Hurriedly she pushed her skirt out of the way and without even removing her underwear, she slipped her fingers inside. At first she sighed, enjoying the pleasure she was giving herself, but then Henry urged her fingers in further. Her eyes widened and she tried to withdraw, but he insisted. Her shoulder nearly dislocated as she contorted her arm into an almost unnatural angle, pushing her hand in as far as she could. Her fingers clawed at the vaginal lining, shredding it with her sharp nails. She ripped at her clit, twisting and pulling the swollen nub until it was painfully no longer attached to her body. Her throat ached, wanting to scream, but Henry closed that off. Her breath came in ragged spasms. Finally he forced her legs to move towards the door. Blood trailed her out of her room and down the hall to the closet she had locked him in. She pulled the key from her pocket and unlocked it. He stepped out and wordlessly she entered the closet. He shut and locked the door. As he walked away he reached out for the spiders he could feel in the darkest corners of the house. Soundlessly they scurried to towards the closet and the buffet that awaited them.
Now what to do about the others.
The children, orphans, like Henry, but without his special gifts, were sitting around the Christmas tree. When Mummy, as the woman who ran the place insisted on them calling her, had chosen Henry as her whipping boy, they hadn’t shed a tear. Henry understood, they were relieved it wasn’t them being stripped bare, his hands tied as she made the others hang him from the ceiling, slipping the rope that bound him over a hook. It was understandable, he would have gladly traded places with any of them… still, now that he had discovered his new power, they would have to pay.
He heard their thoughts… Santa was coming! Henry knew it wasn’t true. Mummy only told them that so she could yank the rug out from under their love starved little bodies when he didn’t show up. “You must have been bad boys,” she would tell them and then send them to bed hungry. Their excitement gave him an idea though. He focused his anger on the front door. If they wanted Santa, they would have him.
Henry searched the streets and alleys and finally the graveyard and found who he was looking for. He reached deep into the ground and woke him. He’d been there for near a hundred years, rotting, his body nothing but the barest of flesh. Henry concentrated, moving the earth until the body rose, answering his call. It was the boogie monster that haunted every child’s dream, brought to life just for this night. The creature stepped forth, a worm eaten Santa suit still on his decomposing body.
It was dark, Christmas Eve, the few stragglers that were out buying last minute Christmas gifts didn’t notice the disheveled Santa heading for the orphanage. He climbed the steps to the front door, his legs barely holding him up, but Henry helped him stand. His ankle crumbled, but he continued on, ringing the doorbell. It was Little Ben that answered. His smile stretched across his face, until he saw the maggots crawling out of the moldy nose that barely clung to Santa. Then he screamed, and the other boys too, but their tears came too late for his forgiveness. They begged for death, but Henry wouldn't allow them, forcing their hearts to continue beating while being consumed alive. When it was over, when Henry felt that he had at last achieved his vengeance, he didn't feel peace, only more anger. He tried to pull it back, reign in his power, but Santa was hungry. He had allowed the beast inside him loose. It had developed a life of its own. And now it had turned on him. Henry had lost control.
Word Count: 962