Writer's group monthly flash fiction contest and magazine

Cat Eye

February 2022: volume 1 issue: 1

Cat Eye

“Am I alive?” She whispered as she opened her eyes. The pain had turned from sharp torment to a cold, constant agony.

“Would you like to be?”

She tried to relax her body, but the metal chair she was strapped to would allow no comfort.

“No, I don’t think so…” She whispered and a single tear streaked down her dirty, blood-streaked cheek.

“I can end it for you, my love.” He whispered. His voice dark and low, lost in the shadows.

In the beginning she’d fought, her mind couldn’t comprehend that no one would come save her from this monster. Surely someone would figure out she was gone and come looking for her? Days went by as he spent endless hours, cutting, beating, violating and torturing her in every way imaginable. She couldn’t wrap her brain around the idea of someone taking such pleasure in causing pain for such a long time.

But he did.

He reveled in it. The gasps of terror and the body writhing as it suffered by his hand gave him the greatest decadent gratification.

Her mind had long since compartmentalized, what was left was a mixture of accepted misery and morbid curiosity.

She tried to lick her swollen and chapped lips. “But why me? Of all the beings walking this earth…why me?” She couldn’t fathom it. She was nobody.

She heard his body shift in the inky darkness. Her mind focused on the rustling of well tailored clothes and for a moment her body ached for the touch of something soft rather than the cold hard edges of the chair.

“I first saw you at a department store. I remember it clearly. You’re not extraordinarily beautiful, you do not embody grace, your figure is not exquisite as a man such as I might want.” He paused, reveling in the slight trembling of her lip. While physical torture was his forte, he did indeed enjoy a bit of psychological torture now and again. “But your eyes…your eyes stole my breath away. So blue and outlined so perfectly with dark coal. Cat-like in their design. It was then I knew I must have you for my own.” His breathing intensified.

“Thank you pinterest, your eyeliner tutorials really worked.” She chuckled at the sad irony and began to cough, her broken ribs piercing her lungs. She tried to take a deep breath and the gurgling resonated through the concrete room.

He ignored her. His plaything’s silly words meant nothing to him anyway. “I couldn’t stay away. It was easy to find out where you lived, worked, played. You made it so easy to infiltrate you on social media and you provided me every piece of information I needed. You let me into your life so effortlessly. Almost like you wanted me there.”

She tried to shift her legs but the shackles around her ankles prevented it.

She heard him stand up, heard the sharp staccato sound of his shoes on the concrete floor as he walked towards her. Three days ago, she may have whimpered in fear or tried desperately to break away.

But now, she simply wanted to be done. The injuries to her body would prevent her from leading a normal life ever again. She may not have been a supermodel as he so callously pointed out, but she was happy with her appearance. He knew he was taking that away with every incision. The disfigurement on her genitalia, her nose, her neck…all deformities she didn’t want to face.

She wanted to go to sleep.

She could barely keep her eyes open as he moved into her sightline.

“Yes, my lovely, I think it’s time.” He whispered as he pressed a blade to her throat. “Ask me the question once more.”

“Am I alive?” She whispered closing her eyes.

“Would you like to be?”

“No, I don’t think so…”


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Stories have to stick to the monthly prompt and can be no more than 1,200 words. Any genre and style is encouraged.


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