Pain .53


Day 0

The day before:

We go to the house for your ultimate torture and death. It looks like a normal house, with a basement. At about 2 PM, you have a meal with all your favorite foods. It's not your last meal… but it's the last meal you'll get to really enjoy. We talk and you insist you want to go through with it… that dying with 54 bullets is so wild you don't want to pass it up.

At 4 PM I take you down to look at the basement. It's just concrete, with two windows — one facing the rising sun and one the setting sun for that time of year. There is a shackling rig attached to the ceiling of the basement, with pulleys so I can manipulate your body — and how much weight is distributed between your hands and feet. There's also a medium size padded box with removable slats. I explain to you that once you can't physically stand anymore, it's where you'll be.

In pain. Brutally.

The unloaded guns — all nine of them — and the bullets are on a table in the basement. I have you pick up each gun, give it a sensuous blow job like a lover, and dry—fire each one. The first three you are a little timid… but as you move from the fourth to the ninth, you talk to the guns, telling them how much you want them to pierce your body, sucking hard on them as you pull the trigger.

Then I have you sit at the table and load the guns. I make you suck and kiss each and every bullet before you put it in a gun, telling each bullet how much you want it in your body. I want you erotically attached to the genesis of your pain for the next few days… so that — at least for a while — you're not feeling like you're being harmed, but rather just fucked in unusual places by lovers you've kissed and gotten to know.

At 6 PM we go back upstairs to a nice bed. I fuck your cunt and kiss you deep… no torture, no kink, just wild fucking. It will be your last time fucking a human. You fall asleep soon after.


Day 1

At 130 AM I wake you up from your sleep. Already nude, there's no need to dress. I lead you to the basement which is almost completely dark, a dim bulb near the shackles. You smile… it may be difficult for you to smile by noon.

I shackle your wrists to the pulley apparatus and lift you slightly into the air, so your wrists are being pulled together above your head, but your toes and the front part of your feet are still supporting some of your body. You see me pick up the first gun and cock it, wondering where you'll be shot. I press it against the left side of your ass and pull the trigger. The bullet penetrates your left side ass, across your ass crack, through your right side ass, and continues to the wall. You feel a burning sensation… but not much else. I tell you to sleep. You insist on being shot immediately and I tell you that I will gag you if you don't shut up. You shut up. Whether you go to sleep or not is your own decision.

At 4 AM I pick up the first gun again, cock it, and press it to the side of your left breast, just like I did with your ass. I fire it and the bullet tears through both of your tits carrying some of their innards to the wall. You let out your first cry of pain as the burning, ripping sensation of the bullet destroying part of your breasts hits you. I tell you to sleep again.

At 6 AM I pick up the first gun again, cock it, and grab your right breast, stretching it out. I ram the gun under your right breast and fire towards the ceiling. Your body adapts quickly and already you're learning to enjoy having your breasts fucked by bullets. Sleep time again.

At 8 AM I awaken you and try to feed you some oatmeal porridge. You spit it in my face. I step down from where I was feeding you and adjust the ropes so they're not pulling so hard on your hands and your feet are on the ground. Then I take the gun, cock it, face you, and put a bullet through your left knee. You scream and groan in agony as your kneecap is shattered and try to put more weight on your right knee. The shackles hold you in place… as your right knee tires, your weight goes to your destroyed left knee. I tell you to try to sleep… if you can.

At 10 AM I again approach you with the gun. I offer to let you go and chicken out of the ultimate penetration; you tell me to end you. "All in good time, my dear…" as I shoot your right elbow. The bone pain is excruciating as you have been trying to use your shackled wrists to pull some weight off your left knee. I tell you to try to sleep.

At noon I congratulate you: this shot will be the last in 1 out of 9 guns. I stand behind you, put the gun under your left ass cheek pointing towards the ceiling, and fire, ripping more flesh from your ass. I put the hot gun barrel in your mouth and tell you to suck it, thanking it for helping pierce your body six times. Afterwards, I don't bother telling you to go to sleep anymore… I figure you'll sleep when — and if — you can.

At 2 PM it starts getting nastier with the 2nd gun. I climb up to where your hands are shackled… put the muzzle of the gun in the palm of your right hand… and pull the trigger, shattering your hand bones and making that hand forever useless. Forever's not going to be too long for you, anyway. At least your hands aren't supporting your weight, the shackles on your wrists do that.

At 4 PM it's time to make an excruciating move again. I make you watch as I cock the gun… then I squat on the floor and destroy your right ankle, piercing it with a bullet. The pain is redoubled as the right side of your body presses down on your shattered ankle, which can no longer support you without pain that makes you scream. Scream all you want, no one can hear you but me and you — your song of drawn—out death.

At 6 PM it's feeding time again. You've learned from the last time that refusing food just makes you weak and shot faster. I feed you several hot dogs… you try to tease me into putting my cock into your mouth by licking and sucking the hot dogs as you eat them. I give you water to drink with it, pouring it into your mouth… you're very thirsty. Once you've finished dinner, I cock the gun, press it far into the underside of your left breast, and blast a hole through it. Your face is splattered with pieces of your breast, as we hear the bullet hit the floor.

At 8 PM it's time to really make the pain worse… to make you think you should have done something simpler… but you have no safeword. I stand in front of you… cock the gun… and blast your right kneecap to pieces. I look carefully at you — I don't want you passing out from the pain. I pull the pulley arrangement to lessen the weight slightly on your right knee and ankle. Of course, this increases the pain on your right elbow…

At 10 PM I finish for the day with your left ankle. I make it quick: the gun is already cocked, and I drop quickly to the floor, press the muzzle against the bone, and fire. I stand up… look in your eyes… and say, "Annabella… that was day 1. There's 3 and a half days left. It gets much worse. I suggest you get some sleep. You have 4 hours."

I go upstairs for some decent sleep, taking the guns with me. You are immobilized by the shackles — and even if you could get free, the shattered bones insure you'll just collapse in a heap.


Day 2

At 2 AM I creep silently down the stairs with an already—cocked pistol. You have managed to find a position where you can sleep, albeit painfully. You're about to get a rude awakening.

I carefully position the gun under your left nipple, pointing upwards… and fire, ripping off your nipple and awakening you with a loud bang. I smile at your tortured face… "Annabella, it's day 2. You only think you hurt now… you will be well tortured by 10 tonite — and it's only 2 in the morning. Do try to get a little sleep before your next torture."

I go back upstairs to leave you to try to get some sleep. You'll need it.

At 4 AM I come down the stairs with the gun cocked. You hear me and look at me, still managing your evil smile. I push the gun into your mouth and pull the trigger. "Congratulations, the nipple was the last shot of this gun."

I toss the gun to the floor and pick up gun number 3. "Remember how things started getting more painful with gun 2? This is gun 3." I smile evilly, aim point—blank at your left elbow, and shatter it with a bullet. I sit down and watch you, enjoying your pain, enjoying that you got yourself into it and that you said you'd love it. You fitfully try to sleep with this new agonizing pain, making it more difficult to keep weight off your knees and ankles.

At 6 AM I approach you, gun in one hand, masturbating my cock in the other, just to tease you cruelly. "Hungry? Thirsty? Breakfast is in two hours… I'll be sure to wake you." I let you down a little more on the rope and you scream as more weight is shifted to your shattered joints. I aim the pistol to the center of your left hand, and pull the trigger, the bullet smashing your hand to bone bits. I pull the rope back up again so the only new pain is the shattering of your hand.

8 AM is breakfast time. I feed you little pieces of roast beef and let you have some Gatorade to wash it down. You know you'll need your energy, so no temper tantrums this time. After about 45 minutes, you've eaten as much as you can. You try to eat a lot to stave off the next bullet… but there comes a point where you just can't eat any more. I put the food to the side… put the gun under your right breast up against your ribs… and make a nice clean bullet hole through the fullest part of that breast. You realize it won't be long until the next bullet because of breakfast, and I torture you to keep awake by looking over your bullet holes and masturbating, shooting my cum at your face so you can try to lick it up.

10 AM it's back to really ramping up the pain again. Despite the shatterings of leg bones, you've achieved some sort of equilibrium. I change that by firing a second bullet through your left ankle, to make sure I've totally demolished it. Slight moans of pain escape you, but you shift eventually to the right and catch some sleep.

High noon: time to disturb your equilibrium. I put the pistol point—blank at the back of your right knee — what is left of it, anyway — and fire the gun. You now have a choice of more pain on the left ankle or right knee. "Have fun, my dear…" as I walk away, laughing evilly…

2PM "Last bullet in the second gun, my human target… gotta make it good" and I lower your body so that the pain is incredible on your legs. While you concentrate on that, I pull your left hand up slightly, out of the cuff… shoot you through the left wrist… and hoist you back up again. "Congratulations… only seven guns to go before you end, Annabella…"

4PM I toss the empty gun at your feet and pick up the third gun. "You should know how to compensate for this… at least a little…" and put the pistol point—blank at the back of what is left of your left knee. I cock it very slowly because you know what it will feel like and I want your pain anticipation to build. You hear it click in place, but then I start teasing your knee back with the muzzle, moving it around, as you go nearly mad waiting for the BANG which wipes out your right knee. "I guess it's back to the left for you, pained darling?"

Six o'clock, time to eat… more roast beef and Gatorade to keep you well—nourished. Again you eat as much as you can… dessert today is a second bullet through your right elbow. I love dessert… and serving it to you — or should I say through you.

8 PM next—to—last shot of the day. I lower you again, and you figure what's coming, and you're right. You tremble as I pull your right hand up so that a bullet can destroy your right wrist. A BANG and I'm hoisting you back up again, the pain in both cuffed wrists excruciating.

At 10 PM I end — for the day only — by dropping quickly to the floor, press the muzzle against what's left of your right ankle, and fire. I stand up… grab your chin and raise your head… and say, "Annabella… that was day 2. 2 and a half days left. If you think today was bad…"

I go upstairs to sleep, taking the guns with me. You try to get what sleep you can. It's a hard fight against the pain…


Day 3

At 130 AM I quietly come down the stairs with a cocked gun to admire my hellacious handiwork. I want to end you right now… but you insisted you wanted to go all the way to seeing how much pain could be inflicted with that many bullets without dying, so there is no safeword, no turning back, no quick death for you until I have maximized your agony. You sleep fitfully, unconsciously shifting weight from one foot to the other to cope with the pain. At exactly 2 AM you are awakened by a loud bang that pierces your left elbow a second time. With both your elbow joints completely destroyed you are unable to relieve your leg pain by moving your arms… you are a helpless doll of endless pain slightly suspended but with enough of your feet touching the floor to be in agony. You try to sleep, wondering how much more pain can be inflicted, knowing we're only on the fourth gun.

At 4 AM you are just pretending to sleep as I approach. I ram the gun under your right breast against your ribs… cock it… and drill a bullet through your breast. It bleeds a little… and hurts a lot. I drop the gun to the floor, empty. You shudder in realization that there are five more guns of pure agony to go through… and taunt me by forcing a smile despite the racking pain the shudder brings to your joints.

At 6 AM I start testing just how much pain your shattered leg joints can handle… by giving them more work to do. Once again I lower you, excruciatingly slowly… cock gun number five, tell you to get used to it, and pulling up your right wrist shoot a bullet through it, destroying any wristbones that the first bullet didn't get. I hoist you back up… your wrists hurt, but your legs are in agony from the decreased leverage of your wrists.

8 AM… you know you need food to sustain yourself, but I tell you breakfast is delayed for a special pain treat. I approach the hoist as your pained eyes follow me… it's time for your left wrist to be completely destroyed. Once I've shot it, you don't know how your leg joints and muscles can support your body much longer. You try to sleep but are in too much pain to sleep.

At 930 AM I wheel a chest—high platform under you. It's padded and has a hole so that you will be able to shit or piss at any time provided you don't move too much. I lower your body slowly to the end of the platform, then move it along as I lower you completely on to it, unshackling you completely. You feel relieved of much of the pain, though you are still in pain from the gunshots. I fold up the sides of the platform so you are in a padded box; the sides and bottom are slatted so that I can remove a slat for full access to your lovely, pained body. I feed you your roast beef and water… there's even a small pillow to elevate your head and make swallowing easier. Once you are full you wonder what's next. There's always a bullet for dessert. I cock the gun and ram it into the top of your right breast, against your ribs pointed away from your head… and make a nice new hole through your breast when I fire. Although it's painful… for the moment you are in less pain than when you were shackled. Knowing me, you know the only reason for this is to double the pain in different ways. But for now, you'll gratefully get an hour or two of sleep.

At noon I tell you we'll start simply on this, by evening you out. You instantly know what's coming, and fix your eyes on your left breast as I fire a round through it the same way I did with your right breast. Wonderingly, you actually feel relieved in a way… the bullet piercing your breast gets you close to an orgasm, and you fall back asleep to snatch the two hours that you can.

2 o'clock: time for the bone pain to resume. I grab your left wrist with one hand, and ram the muzzle of the gun into your palm. "Annabella… you can dare more pain if you want, grab the muzzle with your fingers so they burn…." and 3 seconds later, fire the gun, ripping the bones in your hand to shreds, the bullet passing through the bed box and resting in a box of ballistics gel under the table. I take the gun away and sit in a chair overlooking your mangled body, masturbate myself, and cum on your face.

You manage to get some sleep and are awakened at 4 PM by a table slat below the small of your back being removed. I angle the gun into your left ass and fire towards your feet… the bullet pierces your ass and comes to rest there, burning you from inside. You bleed a little but it stops quickly, and I replace the slat. I tell you "Congratulations, that was the last bullet in the 5th gun. Only four more guns until you end, aren't you HAPPY?" You give me an evil smile that tells me if you could move I'd be dead. Only one problem: so many bones are shattered that you can barely move even lying inside the bedbox.

Dinnertime at 6. I install a human—size hamster water bottle and fill it with Gatorade so you don't dehydrate between meals. Time for more roast beef… you're a bit queasy from the last two shots, but manage to get a decent amount in your stomach. I allow you about 15 minutes to digest… then remove the same slat as before. "Evening out time again, pain collector deathGoddess…" and ramming the 6th gun into your right ass, fire a shot that rests, burning inside. I replace the slat and leave. You fall fitfully asleep, knowing that it's likely only one hour until the next shot.

But you do fall asleep, because the next thing you now I'm grabbing your right wrist and ramming the gun muzzle into your right palm. "Same pain dare, Annabella… grab and burn if you dare!" and waiting a few seconds, fire the round that painfully pierces your right hand, shattering it and passing through the box afterwards. "Only 2 hours until 10 and the last shot of the day, dear…"

At 10 PM I come in and place a bolster under your back, lifting your body slightly. I remove the slat closest to your box's shithole towards your feet.. stick the gun in your ass crack pointed towards the bolster… and fire, the bullet ripping through the flesh of your ass crack on both sides, eventually being caught by the bolster. I put the slat back into place as your ass burns and a little blood drips through the toilet hole… then remove the bolster and fill the Gatorade bottle. "Do try to get some sleep, dear… tomorrow it REALLY gets rough!"

I go upstairs to get some nice, peaceful sleep.


Day 4

At 2 AM you're sleeping fitfully. My gun is already cocked. I place it against your belly, near the top and fire it so that it burns off skin and flesh, but no deeper… yet. "Try to get some sleep, that wasn't too bad, was it?" I need some sleep myself.

At 4 AM I return. You've not been able to sleep. You're already starting to understand what I meant by really rough… but had you known, you'd still have gone through with it. I hold the gun in front of your face… cock it… slide out the slat by your right lower leg.. aim carefully.. and splinter both of your lower leg bones with one bullet. "Try to get some sleep, dear… you need to keep up your strength!" Once again I leave.

6 AM: You've been able to get to sleep for a bit, and wake to find me rubbing the gun against the left side of your face. I hold it to your ear and cock it… but then remove the upper left slat, firing a bullet into your left shoulder. "After all, I can't fire it right next to your ear, Annabella… I don't want you deaf… well, at least not yet. Maybe later." Ramming the empty gun in your cunt, I return upstairs. You notice a red light… and realize that I can watch you through a camera at any time from upstairs. In fact, right now, I'm jerking off watching the grimaces you make from the pain of your mangled body, and the thoughts of what else I will be doing to it only make my cock harder and increase my cum …

At 730 AM, I've been jerking myself raw for an hour, watching you try to sleep and failing… I cart some equipment and a cooler down the stairs. I bring it close to you… "Annabella… I can't have you dying on me without your full dose of torture… and your tortures are going to get more bloody today. So…" and I set up an IV holder, ram a transfusion needle into one of your arm veins as painfully as possible, hang a bag of blood, and start supplementing your blood supply. "Oh yes, breakfast…" and I feed you more roast beef and Gatorade. At first you thought you wouldn't be able to eat, from weakness, but the blood helps you to be my torture doll longer. When I'm done feeding you, I say "remember this gun you loaded and kissed? Only 3 guns to go." I ram it against the knuckle on your right thumb and fire, blasting your thumb half off… then take a hot iron and burn the stump so it won't bleed. With your renewed vitality from the blood, the pain of the burning is excruciating. I leave you in pain, the empty gun still in your cunt, taking the gun with 5 bullets left with me.

At 10 AM I return. "Just a nice simple torture, my dear Annabella… we'll get it over with fast and maybe you'll have time to sleep." I ram the gun against your left upper leg so you can feel the muzzle on the bone, being careful to avoid your femoral artery, and fire, shattering the bone, as you scream. "There now, wasn't that a beauty of a torture, my dear?" and leave without waiting for an answer.

By noon you've managed to sleep a bit — and that suits me fine, because I'm waking you up the same way I did at 2 AM — only in the other direction. The BANG awakens you first, followed by the pain and burn of another bullet plowing the skin and flesh of your belly. I replace the blood bag with another one… I want your body well—nourished so it can feel the pain that's yet to come.

I return at 2 PM… you've managed to fall asleep again, that's good — you'll have more energy as the pain gets worse so you can feel it more intensely. I want you quivering in anticipation of the pain for this one, so I make a lot of noise removing the left—side lower leg slat from the bed. You wake up from the noise… feel the muzzle of the gun against your lower left leg, aimed for both bones… and you attempt a smile as I fire, shattering those bones into splinters as you don't even try to restrain your scream of agony. After I replace the slat, the pleasure of destroying you piece by painful piece overwhelms me, and I jerk my cock off over the bed, finally cumming all over your burned and injured belly. I take a nap in the basement because your occasional screams of pain have become like a lullaby of lust to me.

I awake at 4 PM and get up. The alarm has awakened you as well. Somehow you know this is really going to hurt, and your terrified eyes watch me cross the room. You're not disappointed in your anticipation — cocking the gun as I walk, I simply ram the barrel into your right shoulder and pull the trigger, producing pain so great you actually pass out. I can't allow that, though, so the nasty scent of smelling salts brings you right around to a world of perverted pain and agony. I head upstairs for a while.

6 PM is feeding time yet again… while you eat, you live, and you know how many bullets you kissed, and that I won't let you die before the final one, so you may as well enjoy the few pleasures you have remaining — such as eating. After feeding you, I remove the slat from the area of your right upper leg. You shudder with pre—pain — I have your mind torturing itself by now. Once again taking careful aim not to hit any vital blood vessels, I fire a bullet into your upper right leg — and this one lodges within the bone, a perpetual source of agony. That is, if perpetual is about 26 hours… I take the gun from your cunt and drop it on the floor. "You've used up another gun, my dear Annabella… what am I do to do with someone as hungry for pain as you? Oh, I know…" and I burn your cunt by fucking it with the hot—barreled gun I just used on your leg. I get you halfway to orgasm, then stop, leaving the hot gun to sizzle inside you.

730 PM is close to 8, and what the heck, I've just finished torturing your cunt. I show you another gun… "Take a good look, Annabella: this is your next—to—final friend!" The sun is setting… I tell you to look at it. It will be the last sunset you will ever see. As you struggle to raise your head and look, I mash the gun into the knuckle of your left thumb and fire, blowing off half of that thumb so your thumbs match. I cauterize that with hot steel as well to stop the bleeding… but the extra pain is an added bonus. I head upstairs again.

At 10 PM you feel the slat under your lower back near your ass being removed. I put the gun in your ass crack and fire towards your feet, burning and slicing your ass crack yet again. "Do you see how dark it is outside, Annabella? Look at it. Feel it. It's lovely, isn't it? Once it goes away, you will never see it again. Sleep and miss its beauty… or stare into it and miss your sleep, it's all up to you. Maybe both, you have 6 hours to decide…" and I head upstairs for some sleep.


End Day

I've allowed you 2 extra hours for sleep or studying the darkness… but at 4 AM I quietly slide out the slat from the left side of your belly… hold the gun two inches from the skin.. and fire. I'm not sure if it's the BANG or the pain that wakes you, but the scream as the bullet rips through your intestines is quite definitely pain.

I tuck some gauze in your skin to encourage clotting, replace the slat, flush your transfusion needle with heparin, hang a new blood transfusion bag, and leave you to sleep with that pain — if you can.

At 5 AM I start fucking your cunt with the cold empty gun I've left in you. You moan at the slight relief from pain that it produces, and feebly protest when I pull it out and throw it to the floor… only to replace it with the live gun.

I fuck you again this time with a gun with bullets in it, and the thought of that quickly makes you cum. I cock the gun and fire, painfully ripping your inner flesh, then remove the gun and wipe it off.

The pain is so great that you don't really sleep anymore… it's more like drifting in and out of unconsciousness. At 6 AM I crawl under the table to where your shit has been able to fall out. I cock the gun, brutally ram it into your still—beautiful ass, and fire, ripping your rectum apart. I squirt steroids up your ass to slow the bleeding.

At 7 AM I wake you and hold your head up slightly so you can see the sunrise.

"Annabella.. this is your final sunrise. The pain stops today… but it gets much worse first." You moan in a combination of relief and dread. The dread is compounded when I slide out the slat from the right side of your belly.

You know what's coming… you don't even flinch at the gun firing into the right side of your belly, ripping even more of your intestines painfully apart and destroying your liver. As before I use gauze to discourage bleeding, and replace the slat.

"Congratulations, Annabella… only one more gun to go. Only 5 bullet tortures… and then your end." You smile feebly… it turns to a grimace as the pain breaks through from all the shattered bones and the ripped organs, all the bullets that have either passed through or come to rest in your slowly dying body.

At 8 AM I show you your death gun. This will be the end of you.

Today.

But first it will be the ultimate torturer of you. I cock it and press it to the center of your hip bone, between your navel and your cunt, and fire. As it passes through the bone you scream your throat raw… but only for an instant.

You quickly discover that any movement that disturbs the hip returns that pain… so you try to keep very, very still. I sit in the basement, watching your agony, and masturbating while I think of what I will do to you next.

9 AM: First it's time to change out the blood bag again. Once that's done, I cock the gun, crawl under the table, brutally fuck your already bleeding ass with it, change the aim slightly from the first time… and fire, the bullet ripping its way out of your body through your belly. More steroids to slow the bleeding… then standing over you I tell you

"Only three more torture bullets to go before the one that ends you, Annabella…"

At 10 AM it's time to get really rough. It's time to take any pleasure away. Your nipples are gone, but at least with the gun fucking your cunt your clit still got stimulated. Your clit is about to get painfully stimulated to destruction.

I put the muzzle at point—blank range on your clit… rub it a little to get it nice and sensitive and blood—filled… cock the gun.. smile cruelly at you… and pull the trigger, ripping your clit off and slamming its bits into your body. If you had the strength you'd scream… but your body is pure pain. You can't conceive of what I can do to increase the pain and destruction… but I have two more bullets to use before the death bullet.

11 AM it's time to give you a fuck with no pleasure. Your clit is gone, your body is pain… I cock the gun and fuck your bloody cunt with it, masturbating myself with my other hand. When I cum, only a matter of a minute or two… so does the gun, sending a bullet of pain and blood as your final lover between what's left of your legs.

High noon: I've always loved that belly of yours. So it's time to destroy it even further.

I ram the gun into your flesh just above your liver, so the bullet will enter diagonally destroying your liver further, and either come to rest in your body or exit above your left hip. This will be gAnnabellaously painful, a suitable final pain for you.

I cock the gun… press in and out against your flesh… and fire the bullet to maximize your pain. Your bones are destroyed… your clit, your cunt, your ass… everything except what's essential for a life of excruciating pain.

You expect your deliverance next…

but to your surprise, I leave and go upstairs.

You slip in and out of sleep, with nightmarish dreams. Are you in hell? Will you lie there forever in excruciating pain?

A vision comes to you… the grim reaper, and he is not pleased. He tells you that you have usurped his position by my having called you a deathGoddess, when you are only a mortal called Annabella. Your soul will be reaped, but only after pain, so that mortals will not dare to… the figure of the reaper fades as you awaken again. You can see it's daytime outside.

How long has it been? You've never been without me for this torture for more than two hours. Surely it's been more than two hours. Is my final torture to let you die in pain over a series of days? Am I even still in the house? You try to chase these fears away… you are.. you are.. you are Annabella. You hold onto that thought.. that thought.. that paindeath love.. was that an insane thought? Are you going insane now?

You drift back to sleep and see the reaper again; he does not speak, but he has my face. You find it comforting… you awaken and hope the dream means I will indeed end you — but you fear that you are already dead, suffering in the hell that you did not believe existed: but where could pain and fear like this exist except in hell?

You fall back asleep again, with odd dreams of sex, death, and torture… you are feverish, the wounds have caused infection to set in, your body burns… and you awaken to see me standing there.

"I told you you would not see another sunset, Annabella… and it's just before sunset. The last bullet is waiting for you. I hope you've enjoyed your seven hours of physical pain and mental torture. There's only one thing left for you to do: smile that smile."

It is difficult. You have so little energy. But you know the pain will end when you end. You struggle and eventually manage to give your fuck you smile to me. I put the muzzle of the cocked death gun to your right eye…

"Goodbye, Annabella…" and pull the trigger, ending you with the 54th bullet.

 

 

 

 

 

Page created and maintained by Dynacubus
Last updated: Saturday, March 25, 2023