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Horror

The Tragedy of Anna

Anna is trapped within her own home. Unable to carry on her life, as she sees’s fit.

Jan 17, 2021  |   4 min read

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Bowen Fuller
The Tragedy of Anna
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          Anna held her hand over her mouth, terrified that they could hear her breathing. She had been hiding behind the sofa for about 5 minutes now. She moved slowly, so she could see the front door. She had heard three voices, one of those was her neighbour. She knew he wanted to break down the door. She had felt him watching her whenever she was outside.

 

          Anna saw the shadow returning to the front door. She let out a whimper.

 

          “Hello!” The shadow shouted through the letterbox.

 

          “Why won’t they leave me alone!” Echoed in Anna’s mind, as she laid trembling behind the sofa.

          Anna just wanted to be alone, all she ever wanted to be was to be alone. Ever since school, Anna didn’t have many friends. She didn’t mind that, all she wanted was to be a Doctor. But she never got the grades. So, she got a job in a mortuary. She loved her job, she loved her life. The only thing ruining her life was her neighbour. It felt as if he was stalking her. But it was his eyes that disgusted Anna the most.

 

          A faint sound came from the cellar. Horrified Anna realised that she must have left the cellar door open. She had to get back to the cellar!

 

          “Doesn’t look like she is in, we’ll check out the area.” The shadow at the door said as it disappeared from view. Anna let out a sigh of relief, they were only guessing that the scream was from her. She was safe, her neighbour was not going to destroy her life. All she needed to do was get to the cellar and everything would be alright.

          Anna tried to control her limbs. Frightened that the shadow would return to the door. Another sound came from the cellar. The fire roared through her body, forcing Anna to crawl towards the cellar.

 

          Quietly Anna Closed the cellar door and carefully made her way down the steps. Again, a shiver went through her body, though this time one of excitement.

          She looked at him, lying naked on the table panting softly. He was young enough to be her son or toyboy. She shook such thoughts from her head. This was not the time for thinking of such things.

 

          The young man noticed her walking towards him. His panting became muffled grunts. His chest begun to heave frantically. Anna Marvelled at seeing his heart beating. She looked upon with admiration in the work she had done, so far. Anna ran her fingers over his ribs, never for one moment taking her eyes off his beating heart. She moved her hand down his ribs and reached out under them until her fingers were caressing his heart. Closing her eyes, she pushed her hand further until she held his throbbing heart in her hand, yearning for the day when she would do such a thing without wearing surgical gloves.

 

          Fighting now to control her own breathing, Anna came to her senses and gently removed her hand. She moved about the table checking the bonds that held him tightly and to ensure that the gag would hold this time. After finding them all to be in order Anna replaced her bloodied gloves with a fresh pair.

 

          Gentle words of reassurance were now offered to the young man, as fearful tears welling up in his eyes as he failed to shake his head free from the strap holding him down.

          Anna pulled up a chair as she continued to whisper calming words to soothe his fears away. But soon her whispers became harsh with the rapid increase of her breathing. Leaning over him, Anna held the spike above his left eye. The young man held his breath as his gaze was transfixed on the slowly approaching spike.

 

          In desperation, he looked away trying to turn his head. Quickly Anna wedged the spike between his eye and its socket, then with one well-trained manoeuvre, the eyeball popped out. Tenderly Anna held the eyeball, checking that it was undamaged she bent down and kissed the unblinking eye, while its owner thrashed about on the table.

 

          Putting down the spike and picking up a scalpel, the usual pang of guilt-filled Anna for her lack of confidence in her own skill. But Anna always preferred removing the eye from the socket whenever it came dissection.

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