drpepper21
August 22nd, 2009, 07:11 PM
Johann put his clothes back on, covering up the blood soaked undergarments he wore. He lugged the ax over his shoulder and look down at his handiwork, remaining emotionless. Annabelle struts up behind him, her high heels clacking on the stained concrete ground. She loomed over his shoulder and planted a kiss on his neck, hissing “good job Johann, you make Miss Anna proud,” and gleaming, behind her light blonde hair. She walked out of the visible light, and Johann touched his neck were her scarlet lipstick left a print.
Annabelle had been forcing Johann to do her bidding for five years, since he was nine years old. If he refused, she would make a long scar down the length of his back with a hot poker. “Do you want to upset Miss Anna, after all she has done for you? She keeps you here even though you’re broken and depressed. Who else would want you now? No one… Now Johann, you have such a pretty face…” she would growl as she held him against a wall by his neck. Then she would leave him in the cold sheets with fresh blood on his sides, naked.
It started when he was five, and his parents died in a house fire. He was transported to a catholic orphanage. He would pray at the alter everyday, asking god for someone who would love him. Then three years later, Annabelle came. She strut into the church, and looked at all the boys. She picked out Johann, and drove him home in her 1924 ford. They drove up to a massive Victorian estate, and Annabelle escorted him inside.
In a room with lush red velvet papered walls, and comfy red satin chairs, she sat him down, and served him lemonade. Annabelle took off her hat, and let her thick blonde curls spill over her shoulders. “Johann, you have such pretty blue eyes.” She would coax. “Thank you ma’am,” He would say politely, trying to avoid eye contact by staring into his drink. “You can call me Miss Anna, Johann.” She would sweetly purr.
They would sit in that room, and stare out the large window, out onto the lake. In the winter months, she would serve him hot chocolate, and he would always fall asleep, and later wake up in his bed, with the rich black sheets pulled up to his shoulders. Annabelle gave Johann all the attention he had wanted and he savored every moment spent with her.
Now, years later, he savored every moment he had alone, times were he could cry without her beating him. She had begun sexually abusing him at age ten, when he had no idea what was even happening. Now, it was 1927, and he was her slave. She had him murder people, just for her own sick pleasure. She would take the bodies down to the basement, and do who knows what with them.
Johann trudged off to his room, to take a long and hot shower. He then got into bed, and slept restlessly, tossing and turning with the nightmares his own tormented conscious created.
The next morning, he was snapped awake by the bells on his alarm clock ringing. He slid out of bed, and clicked the small brass button to stop the racket. He sat for a while and watched the black hands turn around the yellowing face of the clock, hitting the roman numerals one by one. He finally pulled him self away and got dressed. Johann pulled on his loafers and walked down the hallway into the kitchen, were Annabelle had prepared breakfast.
“Hello my little one, Miss Anna made you breakfast after an eventful night.” Her words dripped with false sweetness. She was always that way, her polite words covering up the malice beneath. He accepted the eggs and meat, refusing to make contact as usual.
“Now Johann, Miss Anna would appreciate it if you would look at me and properly thank me for making you a hot breakfast.” She said with a warning tone, underlined with a threat.
“Thank you Miss Anna.” He hissed through clenched teeth. Annabelle soon after left to work, pulling out of the long gravel driveway.
As soon as she disappeared from sight, Johann got to work.
Annabelle had been forcing Johann to do her bidding for five years, since he was nine years old. If he refused, she would make a long scar down the length of his back with a hot poker. “Do you want to upset Miss Anna, after all she has done for you? She keeps you here even though you’re broken and depressed. Who else would want you now? No one… Now Johann, you have such a pretty face…” she would growl as she held him against a wall by his neck. Then she would leave him in the cold sheets with fresh blood on his sides, naked.
It started when he was five, and his parents died in a house fire. He was transported to a catholic orphanage. He would pray at the alter everyday, asking god for someone who would love him. Then three years later, Annabelle came. She strut into the church, and looked at all the boys. She picked out Johann, and drove him home in her 1924 ford. They drove up to a massive Victorian estate, and Annabelle escorted him inside.
In a room with lush red velvet papered walls, and comfy red satin chairs, she sat him down, and served him lemonade. Annabelle took off her hat, and let her thick blonde curls spill over her shoulders. “Johann, you have such pretty blue eyes.” She would coax. “Thank you ma’am,” He would say politely, trying to avoid eye contact by staring into his drink. “You can call me Miss Anna, Johann.” She would sweetly purr.
They would sit in that room, and stare out the large window, out onto the lake. In the winter months, she would serve him hot chocolate, and he would always fall asleep, and later wake up in his bed, with the rich black sheets pulled up to his shoulders. Annabelle gave Johann all the attention he had wanted and he savored every moment spent with her.
Now, years later, he savored every moment he had alone, times were he could cry without her beating him. She had begun sexually abusing him at age ten, when he had no idea what was even happening. Now, it was 1927, and he was her slave. She had him murder people, just for her own sick pleasure. She would take the bodies down to the basement, and do who knows what with them.
Johann trudged off to his room, to take a long and hot shower. He then got into bed, and slept restlessly, tossing and turning with the nightmares his own tormented conscious created.
The next morning, he was snapped awake by the bells on his alarm clock ringing. He slid out of bed, and clicked the small brass button to stop the racket. He sat for a while and watched the black hands turn around the yellowing face of the clock, hitting the roman numerals one by one. He finally pulled him self away and got dressed. Johann pulled on his loafers and walked down the hallway into the kitchen, were Annabelle had prepared breakfast.
“Hello my little one, Miss Anna made you breakfast after an eventful night.” Her words dripped with false sweetness. She was always that way, her polite words covering up the malice beneath. He accepted the eggs and meat, refusing to make contact as usual.
“Now Johann, Miss Anna would appreciate it if you would look at me and properly thank me for making you a hot breakfast.” She said with a warning tone, underlined with a threat.
“Thank you Miss Anna.” He hissed through clenched teeth. Annabelle soon after left to work, pulling out of the long gravel driveway.
As soon as she disappeared from sight, Johann got to work.