xposing "White"
Posted originally in Jayde's Seeds; reposted here as I think I'm done with it.. unless I see some kind of Pulp Fiction thing to continue with.
Kind of brutal and NSFW because of that.
Whiter Than Snow
I've always enjoyed this moment; the last of their life, as they finally piece together the pieces. How the blood drains away from their face, watching their blood go glacial.
I'm not proud of my job but it's something I do well, and I get paid well to do it. Like this case. In most cases when someone get's jilted - the people I service would normally sent one of the boys over and have an accident occur. or a disappearance, Cut rate at best; but the locals are on the take so it doesn't matter much.
This one was a bit different. She had gone federal; and it was going to take a bit more to take care of this loose end, and that's why I got the call.
It wasn't particularity hard to find her - she was being housed so she could provide witness testimony. After making sure that an "acquaintance" of mine was the only one available to provide the Psyche tests, I started the process.
Oh she passed the tests fine, high levels of stress, anxiety. She never noticed the drugs that penetrated her skin from the cuffs on the detection equipment. Nothing fatal, just enough to help accelerate her levels of stress, a slight hallucinogen.
I posed as a guard a few times, and made sure to build up the trust, she never noticed the suggestions i kept planting in her mind. Ignorant of the different compounds that were in her coffee; her lipstick; the soap.
After a couple of weeks she was having conversations with people who weren't there, and they called in a round of docs to reevaluate. She was shipped into witness protection about 3 days later; passed on as an "unreliable witness"; I knew where was going before she did. I let her get a few days in that little town before making my next move.
She was getting over the drugs of course, but the programming was still there, and gaining her trust was more like offering a child candy.
You've probably guessed that by now I'd make her fall in love with me, strip her of her assets, her self respect, her dignity? I suppose I did, I wont spell out the details, but before I brought her out here she had already done so many things - no self respecting human should have been able to live with themselves.
Here she was now, the end of the line, a cheap brothel in Nicaragua; a place where she's used as a common whore, she doesn't speak the language, a filthy shared mattress and a room filled with bugs and drugs; bottom of the whole damn barrel.
After dumping her here; I came back two months later, expecting - well - about like this. The cocktail I slid into her veins, purged the drugs and she's just retained lucidness.
She's looking right into my eyes, remembering every little thing she's done since last year. All her insatiable needs for sex and drugs, the illusions of power. And now she sees me for who I am.
As the blood drains from her face, and even under the sweat and grime i see her become whiter than the cocaine; whiter than snow. The silencer quiets the two shots that follow, and the street noise covers the rest. The cockroaches will eat well tonight.
Whiter Than Snow - Victims POV
I dont want to remember how I got here, I dont want to remeber who has that gun pointed to my head, what I did, How I did it. I don't know what the hell he stuck in my arm - it's burning through my veins in a way like gasoline fire. My head an infrerno, I drop to my knees in pain expecting to black out but instead the fog has cleared.
I dont want any of this. I'd throw up if I had anything inside of me, but I havent eaten in days.
He's just standing there, about 10 feet away with that damn grin on his face.
He knows. Damnnit. He Knows everything. I can see him now from the begining.
I knew Jimmy was in the family, hell that's why I hooked up with that creep. I figured it would be easy to look pretty and sponge off the bastard, the sex wasn't that bad either. We went out, had a typical italian wedding where his brother got drunk and had to be locked in a spare room after taking a swing at my dad. It was great at first - the new cars, the jewlery - the cash. Eventually things changed. We kept trying but we could have kids. He kept blaming me but I knew better. Then I found he was keeping other girls on the side, well, I let it start bothering me.
Why wasnt I good enough? I did some more snooping; looking to find the skank that was banging my guy. What I found. What I found I didnt want to know. It was horrid, I almost left that night, but I didn't know where I'd run.
I tried to forget about it for weeks. I started drinking but i was afraid I'd say something to him. He noticed something was wrong; it took him a while, but he knew I knew something. I couldnt stay there any more - it wasn't safe and i didn't want end up like one of those girls; bound like an animal; locked in a cage naked.
So I took cash, and a carton of smokes from the house and drove into jersey, ditched the car for a taxi ride - then a train ticket. I still didn't know where I was going. I still couldnt keep that image from my mind. It wasnt human what he was doing to those girls.
I found myself wandering in the streets of Baltimore, and at an FBI office before I realized where I was. I got lucky and one of the girls in the office hooked me up with a prosecutor, who seemed to know what Jimmy was into. I was in a black SUV with several men in suits in minutes, and whisked off to, I dunno, west virginia i think.
Then the questioning, the promises, the doctors... The Doctors?! This guy! This bastard with the glock to my head! He tested me. I can recall he was wearing glasses that day; nose was different.. hair; why didn't I remeber him before? He had flirted with me a bit. told me everything was going to be ok.
Heh. Ok.
Then the protection. Wait. He was there too; different hair; but it was him. I didnt realize that. HE caused me to fall apart?! how? Drugs in my food? In the cigerettes?
I remeber the voices; The girls talking to me - telling me to get away. They were right. Then the FBI sent me out to some little shit town in arizona. Patted me on the head and told me it was going to be fine. What crap.
Then ... Mark was there, offered me a cigarette, and I trusted him. I trusted him, and he made me feel good; the sex was fantastic. and then the drugs. What was that shit? Meth? Crack? Who knows. It was the best I ever felt when I was high. I could even forget the girls! Hey.. wait.. that.. he.. THAT'S MARK?!? behind the gun? Wha...
How did he get me to do all that? The weeks I spent bound and fucked by complete strangers? Why did I give a blow to that Mexican border guard? Why did I belive we were going to Tijajuna for a holiday? How did I let myself end up in this hell hole surrounded by drugged up spics? All that time treated like those...
those girls.
Jimmy? You bast..
Kind of brutal and NSFW because of that.
Whiter Than Snow
I've always enjoyed this moment; the last of their life, as they finally piece together the pieces. How the blood drains away from their face, watching their blood go glacial.
I'm not proud of my job but it's something I do well, and I get paid well to do it. Like this case. In most cases when someone get's jilted - the people I service would normally sent one of the boys over and have an accident occur. or a disappearance, Cut rate at best; but the locals are on the take so it doesn't matter much.
This one was a bit different. She had gone federal; and it was going to take a bit more to take care of this loose end, and that's why I got the call.
It wasn't particularity hard to find her - she was being housed so she could provide witness testimony. After making sure that an "acquaintance" of mine was the only one available to provide the Psyche tests, I started the process.
Oh she passed the tests fine, high levels of stress, anxiety. She never noticed the drugs that penetrated her skin from the cuffs on the detection equipment. Nothing fatal, just enough to help accelerate her levels of stress, a slight hallucinogen.
I posed as a guard a few times, and made sure to build up the trust, she never noticed the suggestions i kept planting in her mind. Ignorant of the different compounds that were in her coffee; her lipstick; the soap.
After a couple of weeks she was having conversations with people who weren't there, and they called in a round of docs to reevaluate. She was shipped into witness protection about 3 days later; passed on as an "unreliable witness"; I knew where was going before she did. I let her get a few days in that little town before making my next move.
She was getting over the drugs of course, but the programming was still there, and gaining her trust was more like offering a child candy.
You've probably guessed that by now I'd make her fall in love with me, strip her of her assets, her self respect, her dignity? I suppose I did, I wont spell out the details, but before I brought her out here she had already done so many things - no self respecting human should have been able to live with themselves.
Here she was now, the end of the line, a cheap brothel in Nicaragua; a place where she's used as a common whore, she doesn't speak the language, a filthy shared mattress and a room filled with bugs and drugs; bottom of the whole damn barrel.
After dumping her here; I came back two months later, expecting - well - about like this. The cocktail I slid into her veins, purged the drugs and she's just retained lucidness.
She's looking right into my eyes, remembering every little thing she's done since last year. All her insatiable needs for sex and drugs, the illusions of power. And now she sees me for who I am.
As the blood drains from her face, and even under the sweat and grime i see her become whiter than the cocaine; whiter than snow. The silencer quiets the two shots that follow, and the street noise covers the rest. The cockroaches will eat well tonight.
Whiter Than Snow - Victims POV
I dont want to remember how I got here, I dont want to remeber who has that gun pointed to my head, what I did, How I did it. I don't know what the hell he stuck in my arm - it's burning through my veins in a way like gasoline fire. My head an infrerno, I drop to my knees in pain expecting to black out but instead the fog has cleared.
I dont want any of this. I'd throw up if I had anything inside of me, but I havent eaten in days.
He's just standing there, about 10 feet away with that damn grin on his face.
He knows. Damnnit. He Knows everything. I can see him now from the begining.
I knew Jimmy was in the family, hell that's why I hooked up with that creep. I figured it would be easy to look pretty and sponge off the bastard, the sex wasn't that bad either. We went out, had a typical italian wedding where his brother got drunk and had to be locked in a spare room after taking a swing at my dad. It was great at first - the new cars, the jewlery - the cash. Eventually things changed. We kept trying but we could have kids. He kept blaming me but I knew better. Then I found he was keeping other girls on the side, well, I let it start bothering me.
Why wasnt I good enough? I did some more snooping; looking to find the skank that was banging my guy. What I found. What I found I didnt want to know. It was horrid, I almost left that night, but I didn't know where I'd run.
I tried to forget about it for weeks. I started drinking but i was afraid I'd say something to him. He noticed something was wrong; it took him a while, but he knew I knew something. I couldnt stay there any more - it wasn't safe and i didn't want end up like one of those girls; bound like an animal; locked in a cage naked.
So I took cash, and a carton of smokes from the house and drove into jersey, ditched the car for a taxi ride - then a train ticket. I still didn't know where I was going. I still couldnt keep that image from my mind. It wasnt human what he was doing to those girls.
I found myself wandering in the streets of Baltimore, and at an FBI office before I realized where I was. I got lucky and one of the girls in the office hooked me up with a prosecutor, who seemed to know what Jimmy was into. I was in a black SUV with several men in suits in minutes, and whisked off to, I dunno, west virginia i think.
Then the questioning, the promises, the doctors... The Doctors?! This guy! This bastard with the glock to my head! He tested me. I can recall he was wearing glasses that day; nose was different.. hair; why didn't I remeber him before? He had flirted with me a bit. told me everything was going to be ok.
Heh. Ok.
Then the protection. Wait. He was there too; different hair; but it was him. I didnt realize that. HE caused me to fall apart?! how? Drugs in my food? In the cigerettes?
I remeber the voices; The girls talking to me - telling me to get away. They were right. Then the FBI sent me out to some little shit town in arizona. Patted me on the head and told me it was going to be fine. What crap.
Then ... Mark was there, offered me a cigarette, and I trusted him. I trusted him, and he made me feel good; the sex was fantastic. and then the drugs. What was that shit? Meth? Crack? Who knows. It was the best I ever felt when I was high. I could even forget the girls! Hey.. wait.. that.. he.. THAT'S MARK?!? behind the gun? Wha...
How did he get me to do all that? The weeks I spent bound and fucked by complete strangers? Why did I give a blow to that Mexican border guard? Why did I belive we were going to Tijajuna for a holiday? How did I let myself end up in this hell hole surrounded by drugged up spics? All that time treated like those...
those girls.
Jimmy? You bast..