A Evil Named Bastard

This story is by Nicole Pilling and was part of our 2018 Spring Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.

A Evil Named Bastard

“Hush little baby, don’t say a word, momma’s gonna buy you a mockin’ bird, if that mockin’ bird don’t sing, momma’s gonna buy you a diamond ring”

Shivering in the corner, Sam sat quietly singing the old lullaby. Reciting old nursery rhymes her mother had sung to her as a child helped her cling to sanity for another day.

Weakly, she tried unsuccessfully to free herself of the chains that bound her to this hell. Crying out in pain, she braced herself against the burning sensations coursing through her leg.

‘Damn it!’ Her ankle hurt like hell. Warm blood trickled down her ankle running between her toes. Grimacing, she wrapped her hands around her ankle putting pressure on the wound, scared to look for fear she would see bone.

The bastard that took her chained her right leg to an iron handle that was fused to the concrete floor; he’d given just enough chain for her to pace the floors of the ten by ten root cellar.

Shivering from pain and cold, Sam dropped down on the rancid smelling mattress; it was so rank and soiled that she imagined he pulled it from the depths of hell.

Her captor, Bastard, as she named him left a thin sheet to keep her warm. He took her clothes replacing them with an over sized t-shirt that her tiny frame swam in.

Huddled on the putrid mattress, Sam thought of ways to escape. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could survive, Bastard loved playing depraved games with her, if she wanted food and water she had to play along or risk his wrath.

Every night he came, the first being the worst. Stripping her bare he whipped her slender body until she was unconscious and bloody. After her thrashing, he unzipped his pants and raped her lifeless form. Hovering, his large sweaty body above hers, Bastard grunted as he pumped painfully inside her. Once finished, he left her to lie in a pool of her own blood.

That was the longest night of her life. Pain and terror, wracked her body as she lay on the cold concrete floor bleeding and alone, praying to a God she wasn’t even sure existed.

Hours later, Sam awoke to the sound of heavy footsteps coming down old creaky stairs. Groggy, she forced herself to sit up, a feeling of dread weighing on her.

A smell of pot roast wafted through the air assaulting her senses, her stomach groaned in delight, it had been weeks since she ate anything other than scraps. Scrambling to her knees in anticipation, she waited.

Warped floor boards creaked under his weight as he walked down the stairs. She could hear the jingle of her freedom with each step he took, Bastard always wore the keys to the cellar door and chain clipped to his belt.

“You stink worse than dog-shit whore.” He accused.

Waving his hand in front of his nose, he flipped a bucket over and sat down. Sam was nearly drooling over the plate of steaming beef, potatoes and veggies he held.

“For fuck sake woman, now you’ve gone and ruined my appetite.” He complained, glaring at her in disgust.

“What, you think this is for you? That I’d waste good food on the likes of you, you’re nothing but a bitch in heat.” He told her laughing cruelly. Reaching into his shirt pocket he pulled out a can of dog food and tossed it at Sam.

Smirking, he took a large mouthful of beef. Rolling his eyes in exaggerated bliss, Bastard moaned as if he were experiencing immense pleasure. Smiling maliciously, he watched tears slide down her cheeks.

Venom flowed through her veins, sending her into a blinding rage so fierce she pulsed with adrenaline. Grabbing the can of dog food, she hurled it straight it at Bastard’s face.

“Fuck you!” She screamed, at the top of her lungs. A sickening sound of bone cracking echoed in the nearly bare room.

Sam wasted no time, lunging her tiny body like a line backer she knocked him off the bucket. Frantically swinging her fists, she pummelled his body. Wanting him to suffer, she sank her teeth deep into his shoulder, tearing at his flesh until warm blood spilled down her throat. She reviled in the metallic taste that lingered on her tongue.

Howling in pain, Bastard grabbed a fistful of blonde hair. Yanking hard, he tore a chunk from her scalp. Stars danced in front of her eyes as she screamed in agony. Each movement causing excruciating pain, forcing her to sag against his body in defeat.

Breathing hard, Bastard gripped Sam’s hair roughly as he coiled his other hand into a fist the size of a cereal bowl.

“You stupid bitch!” He spat angrily. Lashing out, he smashed his fist into the back of her head buckling her legs. Refusing to pass out she filled her lungs with deep steadying breaths.

Satisfied with his handy work, he carried Sam to the ratty mattress. Making him believe that he had won, she lay limp, gathering her strength as he spread her legs wide. The sound of his zipper lowering sickened her as he slowly pulled down his pants in anticipation.

“I don’t know why you fight this whore, you know you want this.” He said, stroking himself.

Disgusted, Sam waited for the perfect moment to strike, she only had one chance. Counting to three she lashed out kicking him square in the face.

Pain and blood exploded from his nose stunning him long enough to give Sam the upper hand she needed. Fighting for her life she kicked him hard between his legs. Bent at the waist groaning, he swung his arms wildly trying to grab her.

“I’m going to kill you for that!” he bellowed. Clutching his face he staggered back. Tripping over the chain, he stumbled to the floor.

Enraged, she pounced, straddling his waist. She callously slammed her fist over and over again, enjoying the crunch of bone beneath her fist. Blood erupted, saturating her as teeth flew from his assaulted mouth.

Cursing, he tried freeing himself, bucking wildly beneath her. Panicked, she grabbed his head, smashing it again and again off the cold concrete floor until blood to oozed from his skull, drenching her hands in its hot sticky mess.

Shaking uncontrollably she grabbed the keys from his belt, fumbling in her haste to unlock the chain. A cry of relief escaped her lips as the chain fell from her ankle. Quickly she chained Bastards leg to the floor.

Pain invaded her battered body as she staggered from her prison.

Tears of joy fell freely when Sam bathed in the warm sunlight cascading over her body. Looking around she saw an old run down farm house and a worn shed. Taking in deep breaths she planned ways to find help.

Angry shouts exploded from the cellar halting her steps. Running to the shed for cover, Sam hid behind an old wooden barrel. Holding her breath, she waited for what seemed like hours.

Racing thoughts held her mind hostage.

‘What happens if he gets a light sentence? Will he come after me or worse find a new victim. Should I just kill the bastard, freeing the world and myself of his evil? Can I live with myself being a murderer?’

Head throbbing from too many questions, Sam moved from her hiding spot.

Scattered amongst the mess was an old red gas can and lighter. Images of his demise flashed before her eyes. Shame and guilt spewed from her heart as she contemplated murder.

Fighting her inner demons, she grabbed the gasoline, lighter and headed towards hell.

Freezing at the door to the cellar, she gathered her nerves before heading down. The smell of must and blood assaulted her senses.

“I thought you’d be long gone by now.” He said, breathing heavily. Bastard hunched weak and bloody against the wall.

“Useless whore, you’re not even smart enough to run.” He mocked, breathlessly. Sam clutched the gas can tightly to her chest. Cold rage flowed through her veins icing over her emotions.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Sam screamed, splashing fuel over the cellar walls and floor.

“This is for every kick, punch and rape you forced on me.” she spat, dousing him in gasoline.

“And this,” she said holding her hand high. “Is me being your Judge and Jury.” Smiling coldly, she ignited the lighter.

“I sentence you to hell!” She shouted, fiercely.

Eyes wild, Sam held the flame to the gasoline soaked walls, watching as flames erupted, dancing their way towards the ceiling.

Scrambling up the stairs away from the burning cellar, she ran towards freedom. Slamming the cellar door tightly shut, she locked away his tortured screams.

Without a second glance, Sam limped towards her freedom happily humming the tune, Hush little baby.