Chapter 11:

Her Name Is Hell

Hellmurder Girls

“Quick, she’s falling asleep.”

The doctors crowding around the girl’s body extended her sensitive bits as usual. The resulting pain shot her eyes back ajar, forced to stare at the hard white light of the office once again.

“Garry, she’s losing heat here. Bring out the file.”

“Right away, Susan.”

They all blended into each other. The white room, the white lights, all the white coats. The voices of the devils surrounding her sometimes changed, but the uncaring, inhuman faces never did.

“Look at this.” One said to her.

Having already forgotten, it came as just a shock to her as it had the last 23,901 times to have those photos waved in her face. First the toy, then the dog, then the mother- lastly, the girl.

“Why bother?” A newer voice spoke.

“Pain isn’t the absence of joy, Carlton.”

As soon as she could properly remember the sequels came again.

“It is the existence of it.”

Her tear ducts fired on empty as her tummy burned. She opened her mouth, but it wasn’t her who screamed.

“Temperature.”

A doctor stuck its thermometer in one of her newer holes.

“8,517.”

“Not good enough. Video.”

The memories they always removed were already coming back to her, but they forced the white monitor in front of her face immediately.

From the static, images formed.

A pretty little doll held in her hands. A gift from mom.

Trip.

The doll was no more.

Bark, bark.

Fudo ran up to her with a smile on his canine face. She pet his head for some time, but then he saw something in the road.

Crash.

The dog was no more.

“Honey, are you okay?”

She was crying, but her mother’s embrace was comforting.

“It’s okay. We can get you another one.”

Until it wasn’t.

“******? How are you doing?”

School. Girl.

“You can talk to me about it…”

Pretty.

“I… think I like you, ******.”

More than a friend.

“W-Who are you?”

Intruder.

“S-stop it! Don’t touch her!”

Gunshot. A gloved hand.

Waking up in the lab. Back to the present.

The doctors listened closely as their screams burst from her belly. The damned cried, all lost in her bowels, looking for an exit they would never find.

“Excellent.”

The flames inside her burned higher as her hatred for the doctors grew.

“9,000…. 10,000… okay, we’re almost back on track. Leon?”

“More?”

“Physical will do.”

The gloves went on her hands now. The only gloves they let her wear, with the spikes on the inside.

Click.

The handwear tightened. She opened her mouth to scream again, but only smoke and shouts of the denizens inside released as blood pooled under her feet.

“Helen, get another bag.”

“Yes, sir.”

More was put in her long before she could bleed out.

“12,000… 13,000! That’s it! Wipe the slate, Johnny.”

The machine was placed on her head again, but she couldn’t make any noise of her own.

Popcorn inside her brain.

“14,000… 15- 16,000? Johnny, wipe the bitch clean already.”

“I-It’s not working this time! Why, why…”

She couldn’t forget it anymore.

The toy. The dog. The mom. The girl.

Her toy.

Her dog.