Read at your own risk
There’s just something about destruction and abandonment that attracts me. There were three of us: Me, Jacob and Hans. It was out of boredom and sore blue balls that we decided to explore the abandoned subdivision in the less polluted area outside of the city.
Prosper Village was the name of the subdivision. It was built on top of what was once a farmland. They just told those poor farmers to beat it so that they could build that stupid plan of theirs. It never really took off, that subdivision of theirs. I’d like to assume that the place was cursed by its original inhabitants, set to never be inhabitable ever again, but it’s not. Few people bought property. All that money and labor that took to build houses, not to mention several dozen farmer’s dreams and hopes were wasted. They were afraid to admit that they failed until the storm and flood of ’06. Houses were flooded to the roof and no one really attempted to rebuild. They just left everything behind. Since then, there were no living soul seen there, well, maybe except for those punkass kids looking for quick score. We’re not like that though. We no homo, no offense meant to anyone.
Nature has reclaimed what’s rightfully theirs. Houses almost looked like flower pots when grass covered them. Hans kept on taking pictures of everything.
“If I kick that wall over there, the house could totally fall over. I swear!” Jake said while pointing to the house. We pushed on to check it out. Front door is unlocked but also crumbly as fuck. Everything could come crashing down any time.
“Just look at this, guys.” Hans took a picture. The flash lit the room for a second. There were a couple of writings on the wall; “Turn around and walk away. Salvation is invalid in this god damned place!” was one. The other was; “Boom! Headshot.” Both were written with green paint. I looked at the camera’s screen. It was amazing. Jacob went out of the back door. The two of us followed.
“Damn.” Hans clicked again. It was of a dog’s skeleton, still with its collar around its neck.
We fought our way through bushes and fallen walls around the back of the houses and eventually, we reached the road again. There were more houses to the right, right around the sign which read Sampaguita Street. We strolled along the sidewalk, eyes fixed on the abandoned houses. You could almost see people there, going on with their mundane lives, like ghosts re-enacting stuff which happened in the past. Such strong memories. I shook my head, maybe it’s the heat. Maybe not.
“Check that out.” Jacob pointed to a building which walls were painted with a picture of Snow White and The Seven Dwarves, with Snow surrounded by several dicks crudely drawn by oh-so-brave vandals. “Haha. Bukkake.” Hans remarked and clicked.
We went to the side and found a door. I then noticed my shoelace was untied and bent to tie it. There was black stuff on the ground. I dibbed it and smelled it. It was oil.
“Mitch, get your ass here.” Hans called from the inside. Surprisingly, the front door’s knob was still functional. Most of the houses this shape has knobs that won’t turn or ones that turns 360.
It was quite odd. There’s a table in the middle of the room, empty save from that and from little stools and desks on all sides. It smelled awful too. Some cross between a tub filled with gutted fish left in the sun and guts in general. I’m not into the smell fetish but the smell of the room would pretty much turn those who are aroused by this rock hard and/or swamp wet.
“Da fhuck’s this?” Jake’s voice was muffled under the thick towel he covered his mouth with. The floor around the table was disgusting. I’m not good at describing things so I’ll just say what I can. It was almost blackish brown. Oh and brown and beige. And it was flaking, like a dried scraped wound with tiny hairs in it, probably with pus that’s all dried up. Best description I could give was that it looked like the interior of that cumbox that circulated the web some time ago.
“Look at this shit. This is blood right? Fuck, this is so disgusting… Fuck.” Hans went on and scraped a little bit of that flaky stuff off the floor and brought it near his nose. He sprang up and went to the side where chairs were and heaved. “Well that was stupid…” He barely worded. I walked near the table and examined it. There was definitely a red substance… almost black to be honest, on the vinyl lined table. Jacob went to the right side of the room.
These drops were fresh… Immediately, the thoughts of punk ass kids coming here and sacrificing goats to their favourite gods; Korean boy bands, then proceeding to bathe in the goat’s blood while playing that repetitive *Sorry Sorry* circulated my mind. Then, maybe they’re just having fun, fucking virgins and stuff… But the disgusting crumbly stuff on the floor proved otherwise. That was a lot of blood. Those poor fucking goats, and that unpleasant feeling in my stomach rose up… Not of nausea cause of all the nasties around. I felt something’s gonna happen.
“Mitch… This is a door of some sort right?” Jacob called to me. Hans took a snap of the table. The chairs were piled on the walls then abruptly stopped in front of the ‘door’.
“Wait a second…” Jacob pried the door open. A gust of sweat smelling air passed through us. Somebody’s using that door, I thought. “Holy shit…” Hans, did not clicked the camera. He, instead, ran inside the room.
There were children, chained to the floor. Metal collars around their necks. There were like, 7 of them. What got to me were their eyes, the absence of them rather. Their eyelids were sewn shut as well as their mouths. Blood ran down their ears. Some motherfucker probably drove pencils in them. They know we’re there. They started flailing around, mumbling shit children would probably mumble. Four of them were girls. The chains clattered against the wooden floor, which was as disgusting, if not more, as the floor in the main room.
“Shit… Do I fucking call someone?” Jacob broke our mortified silence, apart from the shuffling of the children’s filthy, oily bodies and the chains. I looked around and saw something else. On the walls, bound with their arms hanging over their heads were all girls… teenage girls probably the same age as ours.
On the table beside a wall were albums and clearbooks with pictures and stuff in them. There were identification cards. I grabbed one and I recognized Yasmin De Vera to be the teenage girl on the far right, where it’s the darkest in the room. I stared at the clippings and pictures. I was deep in the shit when a forceful hand yanked my shoulder.
“What the hell Mitch! We got a situation here!” It was Jacob. I approached the girls which mouths were not sewn closed. “Miss! Miss!” I tapped one of the girl’s face. It was no use. They were drugged…
“How could you fucking be so calm around here Mitchell! There were kids here, and girls and stuff!” Hans was on the verge of crying. “Calm down guys! Calm down!”
“Calm down!? Look the fuck around you man!” The little children were still flailing around. One thing I have not noticed, and was stupid enough not to was that most of them have stumps for hands and legs cut to the knees. One was trying to open its mouth, HIS mouth so hard that it ripped his lips and it started to bleed. He was successful though, for there were louder moans that went out of it.
“Jeezus Hans! What the hell!”
“I’ll tell you what the hell Mitchell, we go take pics of these and storm the fuck out. Ya hear me!?”
Hans began clicking. The drops of oil outside of the building were fresh. Someone’s gonna reach us anytime soon, I thought. I grabbed the albums and clearbooks and stuffed them inside my pack. For god knows what they were doing were all there. Then, my heart almost stopped. Outside, some vehicle of some sort stopped with a screech. Our initial reactions for cannot be scaled by the scared-o-meter.
“They are fucking here!” Jacob whi-shouted. We scraii[[kkjpedarudwindow has metal bars that did not budge. The children were still flailing and the students still unresponsive. Them children started to annoy me. Hans closed the door and stood against it with eyes of resignation. ‘We’re dead, literally.’ They said. I could barely smell the stench, though it’s there. Then, deus ex machina, the sunlight that the window lets in shone on what I could only recognize as a basement door. I quickly walked towards it, bent and opened it. I told Hans and Jake to go down there, maybe that could buy us some time. Maybe there’s a tunnel under there, I don’t fucking know, but we’re desperate. So we did. And boy, was it dark down there.
“Alright, only letters AE and KH were a match to Mr. Durante’s kidney order so you could rid of the others, we got fresh meat for eyes anyways.” We heard what it seemed like the collars removed and then put on again. “When would I get a new bat?” Then came a thump and a crackling noise and then more muffled cries and rustling on the floor. We didn’t know what was happening up there but for sure that was something. Five times the thumping occurred. Although at the last, there were three thumps.
“The dogs are hungry…. Well maybe later.” The other, deeper voiced said. “Come on, let’s go get the doctor. Let them new ones take a good look at them cracked ones.”
They were leaving, we all thought. We’re getting the fuck out of there. Then we heard the door open, then close again. I’m about to open the door when the other sounded.
“Hey Jermy! Where’d you put the vet’s journals? I left them here at the table and they were gone!”
How fucking unbelievable… They were in my pack.