The Human Shells


The open doorway led to a cell that's been closed, shut off from the world, the person exits when allowed but never fully, he's just a hollow shell now, only shear instincts that make him breathe there is no hope, no soul, no life in this boy.

A boy entered a place that stripped him of everything. He came here with hope or possibility with getting out, since he had been wrongly convicted for the murder of four of his friends for life. When he first entered this place, the prison, he was a young boy with a fire and hope in his eyes, someone who held himself high and proud. A person that believed that he could get out of here. Three men had approached him. They were rough as guts, their names or well their prison names were killer, bruit and bruiser. They were under the impression that he was a cold killer like them and wanted him to be apart of their group to give themselves protection and create stronger alliances but to their surprise he was just a boy. They could tell he wasn't a killer but that just gave them reason to torment the boy and isolate him from the prison community.

The boy was isolated he ate alone, sat alone and the only time he spoke to anyone was when he was spoken to and when he was visited by his friends and family which he was getting less and less of. The boy was sinking into himself becoming an introvert. The boy could feel that this place had an invisible hold of his emotions, his senses and his thoughts. It had been six months since he had entered this place and the hope was leaving his body. He was not just being tormented by killer, bruit and bruiser but any other prison that felt like it but killer, bruit and bruiser were the ring leaders. The boy would get beaten until he couldn't get back up because he would not fight he could not become like them. While some prisoners would beat him the crowd would always yell out fight back but he would't. Although he couldn't take it any longer. One day he fought back just enough to get away.

The day the boy had fought back was the day he had a visit with his friends and family. This wasn't the first time they had seen him with bruisers and the boy always told them he didn't fight back but he knew they didn't fully believe him but today when he told them he thought back. The look they gave him was as if he was a piece of shit on their shoe and all they wanted to do was kick it off; the boy felt the anger rise an yelled at the only people that he thought loved him. They simply walked out of the room as if that's what they wanted to all along and finally here was there excuse to do so. The only thing that was said was by the boys mother which was "We thought you did it you cold blooded.... Monster. I hope you rot in this godforsaken place". Sharp as daggers, each word sliced every it of hope left into shreds which fell into emptiness never to be seen again.

Once the boy was taken back to the yard, he had become the shell, eyes staring at nothing. Killer, bruit and bruiser came up to him with a bunch of other prisoners following behind. All laughing. The boy could never understand how they could laugh in this place but then he listened, it wasn't a happy laugh, it was a hollow one but just with practice it sounded normal. He could hear it now because slowly he could feel himself becoming like them and he had stopped fighting it. He had lost his hope, he had no guilt but he had less hope because of it. Atleast they could survive and probably saw no reason to feel guilt. Killer spoke to the boy he wasn't sure where he was but he knew killer's voice "Well well well looks like you won't be getting anymore visitors. Now your just like us ... A murderer". He laughed, his hollow laugh.

The boys senses were now focused his blood was rushing through him. Awaking everything, his eyes were as sharp as an eagles, his hearing as sharp as a bats. His body was alive and awake. The boy thought he had made a threatening move because killer had a knife and looked like a man that needed to fight for his life. The boy took a minute and checked what he had done, but to someone he was watching, all he was doing was staring. Killer had eyes that looked like the boy just ripped his heart out of his chest. The boy didn't care anymore. With is senses alert he attacked killer, he punched killers jaw and felt bones break, teeth shattering, heard the crunching and the scream each bone breaking and a blood curdling noise being a delight to the boy's mind; a light that turned everything on but all he thought of was more ways to hurt him and to keep himself alive. The boy embraced these thoughts and with that he punched him in the stomach SNAP! There goes a rib, a glorious sound to the boy's ears, exhilarating. Knee to the face a warm sensation on his knee that's gone red, blood, beautiful warm crimson red blood, a victory for the eyes. In one fluid movement, the boy grabbed his head and shoved it to the ground with such speed and ferocity, the man gave a heart piercing scream which was soaked up by the boy's ears greedily. Wicked grin growing on the boy's face; one that made your heart sink and twist in fear, killer still held the knife and a more terrifying look one that wasn't fear of dying, one that was of not dying quick enough. A sickening look to any person that lived and not just survived but the boy was only surviving, so the look to the boy was meer motivation, something saying "more!" But the boy couldn't think of something new to do to killer's body. Yes the boy could make killer scream easily but he'd done that, the boy needed something more and with one quick thought of death, the boy's leg was crunching down on killer's neck, feeling the life under him break and rush out of it's human shell. The last look killer gave was wide eyed and terrifying to look at to a normal person but the boy only felt excited and exhilarated by the look. Finally there was no more gurgling noises, it was silent for a second. The crowd bursted into shouting "Good on ya mate your one of us". When this was said the boy, now, the man felt empty but knew what to do to change that. He looked up at the man who spoke to him and smiled back, he was now one of them a cold blooded, empty, human shell.



Short story by Rachy
Read 773 times
Written on 2010-06-27 at 12:45

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