The Bag
Title- The Bag
Characters- Theodore, some kid, and a little bit o' Jason.
Warning- Little bit of Gore. Rape. (Parts of this made me giggle...i don't know if it's 'cause they were funny, or if i'm just sick...)
Theodore Bagwell pushed the black garbage bag out the open door of his light blue rusted truck. The bag’s lumps shifted as it hit the ground with a loud thump.
He slid out of the truck from the passengers’ side, standing with one leg on either side of the large black bag. He rolled the bag away from the truck enough to slam the door shut. He leaned against the truck with one leg propped up against it and looked around. The sun was setting, but there was enough light for him to do what he came to do. Plus, even if the sun lowered sooner than he’d planned, he knew the large empty field, the river next to it, the rows and rows of tall brown wheat.
Theodore’s eyes finally led themselves to the bag he’d brought with him, and he smiled. Sho’ is pretty. His head tilted without him telling it to as he stared hungrily at the dark plastic. I could jus’ open it…jus’ fer a minute… Gotta wait, though…
The Field was quiet, apart from crickets, and Theodore couldn’t stand it. Come on, hurry up!...Always fuckin’ late… Before long, he was humming to himself, then singing quietly. Not long after he sang at the top of his lungs, belting out the half-remembered words of a church hymn his daddy’d taught him before he’d left home.
He smiled to himself when he’d finished the song. He was just about to start another when he heard the whimper. His head jerked to look at the twitching garbage bag. He stepped toward it, moving slowly as if he were an animal trying not to alert its prey that it had company.
“Momma?” The bag questioned.
Theodore didn’t answer but stopped moving for a second before he decided it was safe.
“Momma!” The bag sounded scared and confused. “Momma, where are you! Where am i! Help!!” The bag seemed to have realized something was wrong, for it started crying and coughing and screaming unintelligibly. Theodore strode to the bag and picked it up in his strong arms, carrying it to a nearby oak tree and setting it down against it. The bag screamed once he touched it, but screamed even louder when he set it down. Never know what you want until you can’t have what you had before.
Theodore coughed and sat down next to the bag, looking at it as one would a baby, or a friend, or pet. His cough tasted like alcohol and the smell permeated the air he breathed back in. “You know,” He said quietly. “You’re awful pretty. But damn are you loud.”
The bag quit making any noise except for the wrinkling plastic sound from its trembling. Theodore looked at it thoughtfully for a minute, then, losing interest, looked at the river which ran behind the tree a few feet.
“What’s going on?” the bag asked calmly, voice soft and only slightly muffled.
“Nothin’ much.” Theodore answered while he ran his long fingers through the dying grass. “..Sure don’t rain much lately.” The bag didn’t answer. “Too hot in ‘Bama most the time, but it’s been okay past couple weeks, right?” Still no answer. “Hey.”
“W-what?” The bag sobbed and shook.
“Never mind.” Theodore looked toward the truck and the two-track it was on. “Jesus. Can never count on younger people, right?” Silence. Theodore looked at his watch. “He was supposed to be here before I was. Forty-five minutes ago. Where you suppose he is, Bag?”
The bag didn’t answer his question. “I think I’m bleeding.” Theodore’s eyebrows rose with interest as he looked the bag over.
“You’re not leakin’.” Good thing I used Glad.
“My head…I’m pretty sure it’s bleedin’, mister,” The bag whined at him.
Theodore thought about it, then opened the bag slowly, peeking in as he did. The teenaged boy he’d put in the bag seemed only to get more attractive after being in there all day. “My, my,” Theodore shook his head. “Ain’t you somethin’?”
The boy’s glazed eyes rolled around in his head, and blood dripped from his mouth. His head was not only bleeding, as he’d told Theodore earlier, but leaking out more than blood. Skull-shards were held into his longish hair by his own blood. He boy’s skin was pale. Theodore gaped at the boy in front of him, pulling him gently from the bag. Guess I hit ya too hard with that wall…Ooops.
The boy smiled and lolled his head. Theodore smiled back at his half-dead playmate. “ooooh, boy,” His breathing was already speeding up in anticipation. “I’m so glad Jason isn’t here yet, I’ll have you all to myself.” He ran his fingertips down the boy’s cheek. “Sooooft.”
Soon he was pushing off clothes, first the boy’s, then his own. He rolled the boy onto his stomach, limbs flopping limply into places that didn’t matter, as long as he stayed where he was.
Theodore climbed on top of him and pushed inside of him with little warning. Still warm.. Theodore arched his back and set to work, releasing all the feelings he’d been building into thoughts that he was glad no one else could hear. Oh God…Yesssss… Fuck…So beautiful, like Momma coulda been…Is this what it felt like for Daddy? Is this what it felt like for Daddy when he did this to…fuck. It gets better every time…And he’s so young! So warm…
The feeling grew warmer as he ripped the boy who started to bleed. Theodore pushed his cheek into the back of the dying boy’s head, getting blood and brain matter on his face, smelling the copper, tasting the salt. The boy moaned quietly, a long exhale that Theodore knew wouldn’t be followed by an inhale ever again.
He finished in a wave of hot liquid and confusion. What the hell…? I… Shit. That was good.
He lay next to the cooling boy, who was still so pretty, missing the back of his head. He let his hand trail over the body, gently exploring the smooth skin. He rolled on top of the boy and lay, head to the side between the shoulder blades, running his hand up and down the body’s side. He licked his lips and, in turn, the cold shoulder blade in front of his face.
His eyes began to droop and his breathing became slow and deep, relaxed. He heard a vehicle turn onto the dirt road and start to bounce toward him. He knew the sound Jason’s van made and recognized it right away. He got to his knees and looked down at the boy between them.
He quickly pulled the garbage bag back over the boy, hesitating before covering his face. He tied it shut tight and picked it up gently, hugging it to his body. He walked to Jason’s van and shook his head at Jason as he opened the back door. Theodore set the bag inside and pushed it back as far as he could. “Goodbye, Bag.” I’ll get you out when Jason falls asleep.
Characters- Theodore, some kid, and a little bit o' Jason.
Warning- Little bit of Gore. Rape. (Parts of this made me giggle...i don't know if it's 'cause they were funny, or if i'm just sick...)
Theodore Bagwell pushed the black garbage bag out the open door of his light blue rusted truck. The bag’s lumps shifted as it hit the ground with a loud thump.
He slid out of the truck from the passengers’ side, standing with one leg on either side of the large black bag. He rolled the bag away from the truck enough to slam the door shut. He leaned against the truck with one leg propped up against it and looked around. The sun was setting, but there was enough light for him to do what he came to do. Plus, even if the sun lowered sooner than he’d planned, he knew the large empty field, the river next to it, the rows and rows of tall brown wheat.
Theodore’s eyes finally led themselves to the bag he’d brought with him, and he smiled. Sho’ is pretty. His head tilted without him telling it to as he stared hungrily at the dark plastic. I could jus’ open it…jus’ fer a minute… Gotta wait, though…
The Field was quiet, apart from crickets, and Theodore couldn’t stand it. Come on, hurry up!...Always fuckin’ late… Before long, he was humming to himself, then singing quietly. Not long after he sang at the top of his lungs, belting out the half-remembered words of a church hymn his daddy’d taught him before he’d left home.
He smiled to himself when he’d finished the song. He was just about to start another when he heard the whimper. His head jerked to look at the twitching garbage bag. He stepped toward it, moving slowly as if he were an animal trying not to alert its prey that it had company.
“Momma?” The bag questioned.
Theodore didn’t answer but stopped moving for a second before he decided it was safe.
“Momma!” The bag sounded scared and confused. “Momma, where are you! Where am i! Help!!” The bag seemed to have realized something was wrong, for it started crying and coughing and screaming unintelligibly. Theodore strode to the bag and picked it up in his strong arms, carrying it to a nearby oak tree and setting it down against it. The bag screamed once he touched it, but screamed even louder when he set it down. Never know what you want until you can’t have what you had before.
Theodore coughed and sat down next to the bag, looking at it as one would a baby, or a friend, or pet. His cough tasted like alcohol and the smell permeated the air he breathed back in. “You know,” He said quietly. “You’re awful pretty. But damn are you loud.”
The bag quit making any noise except for the wrinkling plastic sound from its trembling. Theodore looked at it thoughtfully for a minute, then, losing interest, looked at the river which ran behind the tree a few feet.
“What’s going on?” the bag asked calmly, voice soft and only slightly muffled.
“Nothin’ much.” Theodore answered while he ran his long fingers through the dying grass. “..Sure don’t rain much lately.” The bag didn’t answer. “Too hot in ‘Bama most the time, but it’s been okay past couple weeks, right?” Still no answer. “Hey.”
“W-what?” The bag sobbed and shook.
“Never mind.” Theodore looked toward the truck and the two-track it was on. “Jesus. Can never count on younger people, right?” Silence. Theodore looked at his watch. “He was supposed to be here before I was. Forty-five minutes ago. Where you suppose he is, Bag?”
The bag didn’t answer his question. “I think I’m bleeding.” Theodore’s eyebrows rose with interest as he looked the bag over.
“You’re not leakin’.” Good thing I used Glad.
“My head…I’m pretty sure it’s bleedin’, mister,” The bag whined at him.
Theodore thought about it, then opened the bag slowly, peeking in as he did. The teenaged boy he’d put in the bag seemed only to get more attractive after being in there all day. “My, my,” Theodore shook his head. “Ain’t you somethin’?”
The boy’s glazed eyes rolled around in his head, and blood dripped from his mouth. His head was not only bleeding, as he’d told Theodore earlier, but leaking out more than blood. Skull-shards were held into his longish hair by his own blood. He boy’s skin was pale. Theodore gaped at the boy in front of him, pulling him gently from the bag. Guess I hit ya too hard with that wall…Ooops.
The boy smiled and lolled his head. Theodore smiled back at his half-dead playmate. “ooooh, boy,” His breathing was already speeding up in anticipation. “I’m so glad Jason isn’t here yet, I’ll have you all to myself.” He ran his fingertips down the boy’s cheek. “Sooooft.”
Soon he was pushing off clothes, first the boy’s, then his own. He rolled the boy onto his stomach, limbs flopping limply into places that didn’t matter, as long as he stayed where he was.
Theodore climbed on top of him and pushed inside of him with little warning. Still warm.. Theodore arched his back and set to work, releasing all the feelings he’d been building into thoughts that he was glad no one else could hear. Oh God…Yesssss… Fuck…So beautiful, like Momma coulda been…Is this what it felt like for Daddy? Is this what it felt like for Daddy when he did this to…fuck. It gets better every time…And he’s so young! So warm…
The feeling grew warmer as he ripped the boy who started to bleed. Theodore pushed his cheek into the back of the dying boy’s head, getting blood and brain matter on his face, smelling the copper, tasting the salt. The boy moaned quietly, a long exhale that Theodore knew wouldn’t be followed by an inhale ever again.
He finished in a wave of hot liquid and confusion. What the hell…? I… Shit. That was good.
He lay next to the cooling boy, who was still so pretty, missing the back of his head. He let his hand trail over the body, gently exploring the smooth skin. He rolled on top of the boy and lay, head to the side between the shoulder blades, running his hand up and down the body’s side. He licked his lips and, in turn, the cold shoulder blade in front of his face.
His eyes began to droop and his breathing became slow and deep, relaxed. He heard a vehicle turn onto the dirt road and start to bounce toward him. He knew the sound Jason’s van made and recognized it right away. He got to his knees and looked down at the boy between them.
He quickly pulled the garbage bag back over the boy, hesitating before covering his face. He tied it shut tight and picked it up gently, hugging it to his body. He walked to Jason’s van and shook his head at Jason as he opened the back door. Theodore set the bag inside and pushed it back as far as he could. “Goodbye, Bag.” I’ll get you out when Jason falls asleep.