DYING TO SURVIVE (Dark Erotica) by Scott Hildreth
Filled with rage and a fear of dying, Elena knelt over Shellie and placed her hands around Shellie’s neck and began to squeeze. Shellie attempted to fight Elena from choking her, but in her confused state, offered minimal resistance. Frantically, Elena squeezed harder and harder as she screamed.
“You stupid fucking bitch. I’m going to kill you and put your fucking body at the door,” Elena bellowed as her hands tightened around Shellie’s neck.
As Elena choked Shellie, she began to feel relief. She felt as if killing Shellie would provide an assurance of her being able to live through this nightmare. As she continued to squeeze Shellie’s neck, Shellie’s resistance became lighter and lighter.
Shellie’s eyes widened as Elena squeezed the little remaining life from her. As Shellie’s heart beat its last beat, Elena’s rage heightened. Desperately trying to find answers to a question that had no answer, she continued to squeeze Shellie’s neck long after Shellie had drawn her last breath.
As Elena realized that Shellie was dead, she released her neck and stood over the body As she looked down at the lifeless body, Elena spat onto the concrete floor beside her.
“Fucking puta. Who’s next now, bitch?” Elena hissed as she kicked Shellie’s body.
Filled with rage, Elena bent over and grabbed Shellie’s ankles. As she pulled the body toward the doorway, she felt as if her accomplishment would seal her fate to a one-on-one fight with Ryan. Elena was prepared to challenge Ryan and she was certain she would prevail.
Elena believed that Ryan was killing for fun. And she, on the other hand, was killing to survive.
And survive, Elena was certain, was what she was prepared to do – at any cost.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
WHEN I WAS A CHILD.
SIXTEEN. Frustrated at the fact that Meghan was the next volunteer, Ryan grabbed the back of the chair across from Meghan and pulled it from the table. As he began to sit down, he recalculated his anticipated profit based on Meghan being the second woman to undertake his torture. As the frustration mounted, Ryan looked up at the ceiling and drew a slow breath through his nose.
He placed his right hand on the top of the table, gripped the edge tightly, and exhaled as he looked down and across the table into Meghan’s eyes.
“First, I have a question,” Ryan paused and took another slow breath.
“Up until and including this moment, what is one memory you wish you could remove from your memory bank? Only one,” Ryan asked softly.
Ryan looked into Meghan’s eyes and waited for her response.
Fearing what may be next, and knowing she had nothing to lose, Meghan spoke of what she had never spoken about to another soul on earth. As she began to speak, she closed her eyes.
“When I was nine, my uncle began molesting me,” Meghan paused, her voice cracking as she spoke. Tears began to run down her cheeks.
“When I was twelve, he began to have sexual intercourse with me. This continued until I was fifteen and my parents were of the opinion that I could stay on my own,” Meghan paused again and took a breath as she wiped her eyes free of tears with her fingertips.
“I feel that he took so much from me, yet I feel guilty. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. To take advantage of a child, to alter their life…” Meghan paused and tried to catch her breath -through her crying she was gasping for breath as she spoke.
“Children are innocent and need to be treated with care, respect, and compassion. If I got to choose, I’d remove that memory,” Meghan opened her eyes and wiped the tears from her face.
“You know what’s really weird? What I remember more than anything is the typewriter that sat at the desk. I used to stare at it to clear my mind,” Meghan closed her eyes and shook her head as she cried.
Ryan studied Meghan and thought of what she said. He remembered the basement stairs, and how he had become to detest walking down stairs. He thought of his childhood, knowing his father played a large part in contributing to who he had become. In the absence of his father’s actions, he believed he would be a much different person. He believed, more than likely, he would not be in the position he was currently in.
Ryan began to feel compassion. He shook his head and attempted to remain focused on the matters at hand.
“As you can see, there’s a camera on the tripod beside me. A light will illuminate as soon as,” feeling frustrated, Ryan paused.
Ryan reached across the table toward the remote control for the camera. As he attempted to grasp the remote, his hand shook uncontrollably. Embarrassed, he quickly pulled his hand from the table and into his lap.
“You don’t want to do this do you?” Meghan asked softly as she reached for a towel.
Meghan wiped the tears from her face with the towel and placed it on the table in front of her, resting her hand on the towel. She studied Ryan, finding it interesting that he would wear a white dress shirt, slacks, and a black suit jacket if he intended kill her.
Ryan looked up and into Meghan’s eyes, “It is not a matter of desire, Meghan. It is a matter of necessity.”
“Explain to me how…” Meghan had not finished her thought or statement before Ryan interrupted her.
“Stop!” Ryan barked, “I am not here to reason with you.”
“As you can see, there’s a camera,” Ryan paused and moved his right hand from his lap to point toward the camera.
“You’re shaking terribly,” Meghan stated as Ryan’s trembling hand reached over the table.
Quickly, Ryan pulled his hand back into his lap. Shaking was a sign of weakness to Ryan. Embarrassed and frustrated, he took another slow breath as he looked at the ceiling. As he exhaled, he looked down into Meghan’s eyes. He felt his eye lid began to quiver. Slowly, and without thinking, he pressed the index finger of his right hand to his eyelid.
“I am going to offer you options,” Ryan stated softly as he pressed his finger to his eye.
Meghan looked over the table, noticing the handcuffs that he had removed, the scalpel, rubbing alcohol, towels, stacks of money and remote control. She considered why there would be such an amount of money on the table before her. Considering all things, she assumed that Ryan was going to offer her the money in exchange for something. What, she didn’t know.
Meghan turned toward Ryan, focused on his face, and slowly smiled as she ran her fingers through her hair.
“With each option, should you accept it, there will be other potential options associated with the decision you might make,” frustrated with her smiling, Ryan looked at Meghan and paused.
Meghan’s smiling began to trouble Ryan. Slowly, he removed his finger from his eye lid. As he did, it began to flutter. He pressed his finger to his eye with more force, and drew a slow breath through his nose. Ryan began to think of his father and the day that he cut the tip of his finger off. Ryan had not lost the necessary amount of weight in the allotted time.
Ryan looked down at his lap at the tip of his left index finger.
“Have you a reason to smile, Meghan?” Ryan asked softly and sharply as he looked up, still pressing his right finger to his eye.
“I find you extremely attractive,” Meghan responded.
“Enough. Stop!” Ryan demanded.
“I will not be coerced into some form of rudimentary psycho-babble trickery on your part, Meghan. This camera,” Ryan paused as he pulled his left hand from his lap and motioned toward the camera.
As Ryan motioned toward the camera, Meghan studied his face. His facial features were strong, and his jaw pronounced. As Ryan’s hand waved toward the camera, Meghan glanced at Ryan’s watch. She felt as if she must lure him into some form of conversation. She had, at the last second, volunteered to be the next victim – only because she felt as if she could entice Ryan to listen to her. She felt some odd connection to him, and hoped he felt the same way toward her. Considering the value of the watch, and the probability of Ryan’s pride of it, Meghan opted to bring it up.
“The watch, it’s a Patek Philippe
Surprised at Meghan’s understanding of what his watch was, Ryan beamed with pride regarding her recognition of his time piece. Incapable of hiding his joy, he extended his arm for Meghan to admire the watch further. Discussion of his watch took his mind from his father and to his successes.
“It certainly is. I am surprised you recognized it as such,” Ryan removed his index finger from his eyelid and placed his right hand on the table.
As Meghan admired his watch, she noticed the tip of Ryan’s left index finger was missing. His finger tip appeared square.
Meghan felt if she could make herself seem human to Ryan, maybe she could reason with him. The watch was certainly something he wore with pride, and she believed if she found a common bond with Ryan, he may become compassionate. With the compassion, in Meghan’s opinion, Ryan may become more human.
“It is the type of watch my father sells,” Meghan offered, hoping to lure Ryan into a conversation about his watch.
Immediately, a puzzled look washed over Ryan’s face. He began to feel warm and uncomfortable. He slowly stood from his chair and began to circle the table.
“You father is?” Ryan paused as he gracefully walked toward Meghan.
“My father is Brandon,” Meghan stated as she looked up over her right shoulder toward Ryan.
“Brandon Finer?” Ryan paused, “you’re Brandon Finer’s daughter?”
Ryan knew the owner of the jewelry store quite well. Finer’s Jewelry Store. Most people believed the owner’s name to be Finer, when in fact he had named the store Finer’s – which had nothing to do with his last name.
“Well, his name isn’t Finer. That’s a common misconception. He named the jewelry store Finer’s because he didn’t believe our last name would look good on the store front,” Meghan rotated her head and gazed at Ryan’s eyes as she spoke.
Ryan, somewhat puzzled, turned and walked to his chair and sat down. He looked at Meghan for a long moment and opened his mouth to speak. Still at a loss for words, he paused and thought for a moment as he closed his mouth. He had done research on each of his victims, but did not verify maiden names – feeling there was no value in doing so.
As Ryan studied Meghan, she felt that she might have inserted a hint of wonder in Ryan’s mind. Although her father was the only dealer in the city that sold Patek Philippe, she certainly didn’t know that Ryan had purchased the watch from her father; and had only hoped that she could find a common bond with him in her knowledge of jewelry.
Ryan turned and looked at the camera, verifying that he had not turned it on. His mind full of many thoughts, he began to calculate his losses if he allowed the game to stop now. There was no clause for breach of contract, and he had never taken it into account. He would, however, be in breach if he stopped the game short of completion. He placed his chin in his right hand, rested his elbow on the table, and thought.
At worst, he suspected, he would not gather the funds for the profit he obtained from Dana’s choice of dismemberment over death. As he rested his hand on his chin he relaxed.
Meghan studied Ryan as he thought. He had been silent for a moment or two, and the silence could be either a gift or a curse, depending on what he may be thinking. After another moment of not a word spoken, she opted to again break the silence.
“Ryan, I am human. I am real, and I am the daughter of someone you know. Please, have some compassion and release me and the other two women. What you have already done can’t be changed. What you choose to do from here on out can be,” Meghan spoke softly as she pressed her elbows onto the table.
Although Ryan was looking at Meghan, his eyes did not appear to be focused. He seemed to be staring through her, not at her. His mind filled countless thoughts; he began to feel as if he could hear himself think. He shook his head sharply and turned to look at Meghan.
“I need a moment to think,” Ryan said sharply. He paused and focused on Meghan for a moment, and continued.
“The human mind, Meghan. It’s an odd tool. We process information and proceed with life having our own belief of how to proceed based on our understanding of what we have been exposed to in the past. We are a product of our exposures, experiences, and our mind’s capacity to process it’s understanding of the same,” Ryan paused and rubbed his hands together.
“A game Meghan. This, to me, was a game - a game of tremendous planning, deceit, coercion, and a little cunning nature. The same people, exposed to the same trauma, the same events – they all process it differently,” Ryan explained softly.
“I do not now, nor have I had any intent of killing. I wanted you to believe I had the intent of killing. There’s no value of me going into detail regarding the extent of my planning, but let’s just say it was an experiment,” Ryan removed his chin from his hand and focused on Meghan’s eyes.
“Dana. What happened to Dana?” Meghan asked.
Ryan pressed his hands to the table, moved his chair slightly and stood. He paced back and forth on the side of the table opposite of Meghan and took several slow breaths.
Ryan’s fascination with the human mind and its capacity to deal with death had prompted him to consider this experiment over any other. His obsession with money, lack of self-esteem, and self-worth had brought the experiment to fruition – for the financial gain. In Ryan’s eyes, it was a manner to kill two proverbial birds with one cast stone.
“Most people, short of the insane few that occupy space on this earth, are incapable of killing unless they are doing so to survive. The instinct to survive is quite strong. Statistics support that man will kill to protect the one’s that he loves – family for instance. Additionally, some kill as a means of revenge and seem to form an odd justification for having done so. That percentage is, however, small,” Ryan paused and turned to face Meghan.
“I can assure you I am not insane, nor do I have any axe to grind regarding revenge. This experiment, to me, was a means of proving a few things; my understanding of the human mind and its ability to process and deal with death,” Ryan paused and focused on Meghan’s face.
As he studied Meghan’s face, he thought of Ami. He had carefully chosen the women because of their resemblance to Ami – and he now realized that Meghan had the greatest resemblance of all of the women.
“I have always been fascinated with death. The absolute end - we all fear it. What does the mind go through in the process of planning to survive? What do we consider? Contemplate? It would be one thing to assume or to guess what might happen. But to have accurate data, from people that were on the verge of death? That, Meghan, would be priceless in my opinion. Priceless,” Ryan stood with his hands in his pockets and studied Meghan.
“I released Dana. You and I have not spoken in detail concerning all of what is sitting on this table, or what my intentions were. But I will offer you this; I intend to compensate you for your trouble. I’m considering some things,” Ryan rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet as he thought.
“You fascinate me, I find you interesting,” Meghan said softly, trying to lure Ryan into having enough interest in her to consider releasing her.
Sensing Meghan’s interest as genuine, Ryan began to boast.
“I have a Doctorate in Psychology. I do not practice, however. I am rather secure, financially speaking. I find the mind an interesting place to play. It troubles me,” Ryan pulled his hands from his pockets and motioned toward Meghan.
“What you spoke of earlier, it troubles me. I have attempted to shake it, but it continues to bring me to an uncomfortable place,” he admitted.
Meghan looked up at Ryan as he stood before her. She picked up a towel from the table and blotted her cheeks directly below her eyes. She was shocked that she had told Ryan, but at the time, she felt as if she had nothing to lose. Now, she wasn’t quite sure where Ryan was going to go with what he originally had planned. He seemed, to Meghan, to be side tracked. She found some comfo
“It troubles me too. You’re the first person I have told,” Meghan admitted.
“The odds…well, the data to support my statement, if I remember correctly,” Ryan paused and motioned toward Meghan.
“There’s roughly a ninety-five percent recidivism rate - the rate of recurrence in such acts. I find it troubling,” Ryan pushed his hands into the pockets of his slacks and began to rock back and forth on the heels of his shoes.
“Statistical data would be supportive of the fact that he has not nor will he ever stop. For curiosities sake, Meghan, is he a local man?” Ryan turned and faced Meghan.
Meghan attempted to swallow and looked down at the table, “Yes.”
Ryan nodded.
Megan began to cry as she thought of her uncle continuing to do to others as he had done to her. He was not married, and his lifestyle certainly would support him doing so at his leisure. She reached for the towel and held it to her eyes.
“One last question and we’ll move on,” Ryan said as he walked back to his seat and sat down.
“His name,” Ryan said in a soft yet demanding tone.
Without looking up, Meghan responded, “Josh. Josh Volvo, like the car.”
“Very well,” Ryan sighed.
“The more I think about that, well…my apologies, I said we were done, let us be done,” Ryan drew a slow breath in his mouth and looked at the camera.
The money, at this point, didn’t matter. Ryan’s focus had changed. Ryan’s sexual interest, although he had never physically been with a woman, had started on a BDSM website - Fetlife. Discussing procedures, kinks, thoughts and feelings associated with them interested Ryan. The on-line thoughts had led to some off-line conversations. Eventually, discussions of snuff films began. Ryan had no interest in killing for money, but his psychological background caused him to have tremendous interest in what the human mind may consider when facing death.