un Kissed Innsmouth
Part 136
The rope was still tied around one wrist and the other end was twisted twice around her other hand. Ganly wouldn’t be able to break her hold but Felecia found herself faltering, the fiend wasn’t letting on that he heard her coming, not so far, but there was still precious ground between reaching him, finding a place to stand while the youth bucked and kicked and flailed, all the while gaining purchase to try and choke the fiend.
Felecia took a few more careful steps and was ready to make her move when the youth made a play. Slender yet callused hands shifted and moved away from the attack at the throat and went in search of tender spots. Ganly suddenly stopped applying pressure, stopped choking the life out of the youth whose shirt had been ripped open down to the waist during the previous beating.
Felecia spent nearly two years living with Phillip and his offspring, in all that time the angry, standoffish youth had always been clothed, even careful to make rare outhouse visits only under the cover of night. The breasts that Felecia saw in that bright moonlight betrayed every bit of the essence of the youth she had known and often disliked. Seeing Phillip’s boy like that, it felt awful and obscene, not because of what he was, or what he’d been born as, but because the fiend had robbed him of the privacy that he so obviously required to feel whole and safe.
The fiend wasn’t trying anything sexual with the youth, he had made his intentions clear from the start, yet Felecia felt like she was watching a rape just as much as she was a slow, sloppy murder.
Ganly howled and shifted; the sudden movement caught Felecia off guard. The fiend lifted up and stopped trying to strangle the youth, if only for a moment, instead he raised his fist and drove it into the youth’s face.
“Fuck you!”
“Fucking pervert!”
“Goddamn animal!”
Each shouted statement ended with another raised fist, another resounding blow, the sounds of teeth being loosened and small bones breaking.
Felecia didn’t take any more careful steps, she didn’t consider how to get around the youth’s flailing feet because they weren’t flailing any longer, she wasn’t worried about whether Ganly would hear her coming, he wouldn’t. All Felecia did was wait for him to bring his fist up once more and drive it home again. Once the fiend’s arm was out of the way Felecia fell forward and let her arms drop over the fiends head.
Ganly was no moron; he was distracted but he wasn’t going to be for long. Once Felecia reached over and got her hold over him the fiend was trying to reach forward, to escape her grasp, and once he realized that wasn’t helping, he pitched to his left and rolled over on top of her, trying to twist and turn, to gain purchase and turn the tables.
Felecia focused on her hold around his neck. Her left hand was attached by the rope itself, her right, the lengths wrapped around her wrist and hand as she pulled as hard as she possibly knew how. Ganly turning and landing on her felt like the air was being suddenly driven out of her lungs but Felecia held fast. The fiend turned this way and that and Felecia only doubled her hold on his throat. The bastard tried to raise his right arm and drive his elbow into her and only managed to make a crater in the soft earth below.
Let him press his head into my chest, let him try to squirm this way and that. Let him dig his heels in and try to drive his elbows into the soft earth.
Felecia held onto her internal monologue for a while, until it changed without her permission. Suddenly her internal voice changed and became something ugly and terrifyingly omniscient.
Let him pull and push until you have no strength left, let him buck and drive his head into you chest or chin until he drives it home and puts you out of commission before he turns around and beats you to death.
Felecia wasn’t certain if that was the awful monster waiting out in the waves talking or not, she heard the awful, accusatory tone of it all and figured she was just talking to herself once again, playing Nana to the uncertain and eager parts of herself that obviously required a good talking to.
Felecia grunted and yanked back and felt the rope dig into the wounds along her wrist and she felt the fiend as his pulling and yanking against her started to falter. She heard the fiend try and form words while he dug his fingernails into the flesh of his neck trying to gain dear purchase on same avenue to breathe.
“Pl…ease. I’ll let…it go! Let me go…mercy!”
Felecia pulled all the harder until she felt a wound along her wrist open for sure but she kept up the pressure, bot because she was a monster or because she had a hole in the place most people kept their compassion. Felecia pulled all the harder and almost delighted in the sounds of gagging and chocking that followed because the monster she was killing, slowly, was and would have done the same to her. Not because he felt it needed to be done for a greater good, but because it would have made him more powerful in the eyes of the villagers, it would have elevated his status in the feudal fife kingdom Nana kept in place.