August 11, 2011
Half a rough draft of a terrible story.

(I started writing a short story several months ago, hit a wall, and stopped. I developed the character in other things I’ve written, which I haven’t put up here. This story, if finished, will have rough characters, crude language, and very little that is uplifiting. It will, however, have people getting brained, and be totally lolsorandom. This bit here jumps a bit, and needs to be edited, but whatever. Here it is.)

Like the result of a sick joke, he awoke sputtering and kicking, jolting the tub with each kick, fighting to push a weight off his chest. He succeeded, and threw his upper body out of the water, his head and shoulder crashing onto the cold cement. One of his boots was slipping off, his jeans were unbuttoned, his shirt was gone, and he could taste iron in his mouth.

His blurry vision slowly focused, and he saw he had escaped an actual bathtub, which was wierd, because everything else was just gray. He scooped his hands out wards, trying to grab whatever was in reach; nothing, except a slick, black leather boot. To his dismay, there was a foot in it.

He quickly pulled his hand back in, and rolled over, trying to scramble away, his still-quick breathing the only noise he could hear in this room. He dragged the foot with his loose boot, not wanting to lose it. For all he knew, he was climbing up a wall. His pure animal flight instinct drove him, right into a wall.

"Urr….shit…" he muttered,standing, steadying himself against the wall with his forearm. He looked back to see a tall, thin figure, a black lower body, and a white upper body, indistinct facial features, and red hair. He stared, letting the world come into sharper focus.

He pushed his foot into it’s loose boot with a soft sloshing sound. Must have been his left, but he wasn’t sure yet. “Who.” was all he could say. He rubbed a hand over his face, and saw it came away bloody. He pawed at it again, and found flakes of dry blood, saturating with water. He blinked, and slowly refocused his gaze on the figure.

"Oh, for shame, you can’t remember, can you, fuckface?"

He didn’t. Couldn’t. He set his back against the wall, to ready himself. Something was about to go down. It would probably be him. Water sloshed around in his boots, brown cowboy boots, if you could really label that kind of thing, with squared toes. “…the fuck.” A statement of confusion, more than a question.

"I’m surprised you pushed me off, but I guess even cockroaches like you have your moments of strength. Such a shame it had to be just then." The red haired figure smiled. It’s voice was real queer, like it could be either a man or woman. It walked closer, showing itself in detail through the fog. It’s teeth were all silver, with grime inbetween. Our hero was catching his breath, and understanding this surroundings.

He was in a bathroom, though all of the fixtures were gone, just pipes stubbed out of the walls and floor. The tub that had almost claimed him was free standing, on little claw feet, next to a spout with a handle coming out of the wall. The walls were concrete, the floor the very same. This must have been a prison, or some other industrial location. (Note: That’s a jab at the prison system. In America.)

"I put you through hell, and you begged me to end you. So, I did. You can’t even remember your name, I bet." The figure cackled. A long pause from the man on the wall. He felt the cogs in his head turning. He could remember some facts, like some distant morning, where he buttoned up his jeans, ate toast…something about cotton candy…Jehoel.

"Sorry to disappoint. I’m Jehoel." Our hero, named Jehoel, was coming back to life. He wiggled his toes, squishing the water in his boots, he wiggled his fingers. " And if I’m certain of what that means, you’ve stepped way out of line. What am I doing here?" he asked, seemingly gaining some courage. He actually was bluffing- Jehoel was an impressive name, but he couldn’t remember anything. At least, he couldn’t remember anything except how to bluff.

It cackled, and replied “Well, fuckface. Do you remember your fucking place as my dog!? " as It snatched a handful of his hair, and jerked his head to the side. Jehoel groaned, and desperately pushed against his tormenter, but ended up getting his hair pulled harder. It started to lead him away from the wall, and he barely kept his feet flat on the gorund as he took each step.

 He took deep breaths. He had to gain some strength before this thing took him wherever they were going. After a few more seconds of walking, he was ready to make his stand. He stopped, and let out a grunt as It pulled on his hair. “Come on, doggie. You’re gonna get some leash training in the next room!” It said, in a low, aroused tone.

"Well, fuck that."

Jehoel dipped at the waist and knees, grabbed It around it’s waist, and tossed It backwards over his head, throwing his body into a backwards bridge, and slamming It’s head into the hard floor. A german suplex. The grip loosened on his hair slightly, and he pulled free. He was spent from the effort, and rolled over onto all fours, breathing heavily. “Who…are you…?” He asked between big gulps of air. He felt he was in a good position to bargain.

It didn’t answer. It wasn’t moving. After a few more moments, he stood, and looked It’s body over. The head was disjointed from the neck. His memory was coming back, and then he recognized the face. His stomach lurched.

"That’s my face. Who the fuck is this?" he thought. He noticed details he didn’t before- It had small breasts, which, let’s face it, did not convince Jehoel of the gender. It had smallish feet, and small hips. He was still not convinced, though he didn’t want to go the distance to confirm.

He looked around the room, and saw the deathtrap tub about 30 feet away, a black sliding door, on the other end of the room from that, maybe 15 feet long, and high ceilings. There were drag marks on the floor, gouges here and there, like machinery or freight was moved in and out.

He walked toward the door, and touched it. It was aluminum, and hand painted black. He pushed it open, to reveal a another warehouse area, illuminated by windows on wither side. The windows had a heavy wire mesh on the outside. You could break the glass, but couldn’t get through to the outside. Escape would come another way.

There were odd machines all over. “Hmm. What did they do with this table…chains…oh.” They were sexual torture devices. He had a disturbing thought. He unzipped his pants, needing to check stock. Aside from a bruise or two, he was still intact. A wave of relief flooded through him. He tossed a look over his shoulder, to see if the body was still on the ground. It was.

He zipped up, and walked over to a table on the side of the room to his left, and found sexual toys on the table. The standard stuff; phalluses, paddles, ropes, all the things perverts needed to get it on. There were more extreme things; weights, chains, cattle prods, and an extending baton.

He put out of his mind the way these things could be used. It was gross. He grabbed the baton, and the chain. He looked for something, anything else he could use. One of the smaller weights had a carabiner on it, so he snapped it onto the end of the chain. Satisfied, tied his pants up with a length of rope, stuffed the baton in his waist band, and wrapped the chain around his right forearm. If he had to handle that thing back there with violence, he’d be ready for other enemies.

He was back in his right mind, now. His name was Jehoel, and he indeed was a heavy name to drop. Oh, man, these assholes would have hell to pay…

If he could find his way out. The warehouses led to a complex of offices, which he was having trouble navigating. It looked like a functioning office building, but no one was here. As he stopped to consult a map of the floor on the wall, he heard footsteps.

"JEHOEL. You broke my fucking neck! My other little boys are looking for you, they even found you in here wandering around. Look up!" He recognized that queer voice. He slowly looked up, dreading what he’d see.

Jehoel didn’t bother, he just ran. It was midday, he gathered, he could just break out a window, and jump out. He ran into a room with a large window, and busted