As Alex struggled to break free, he began to hear footsteps coming through the door. Something was approaching on the other side. With every step, hot air was whipped through the edge of the door frame and flowed over Alex's body. The air was hot enough to feel very uncomfortable, but not scorching or truly painful. Unlike the handle.
Alex's hand was steadily being overcome with pain. The searing metal that had fused with his skin burned ever hotter, and was now emitting a faint orange glow. Alex began to scream, even worse than the pain itself was its gradual increase. When would it stop? How badly would it scar my hand? Alex's mind was flooded with the grimmest of scenarios as his hand was charred, now down to the bone, by the glowing metal handle.
"I'm dying!"
He cried out, his face displaying great anguish, his mind ready to blank out in a desperate attempt to escape the pain. Then, the foot steps came again, followed by a dark distorted voice.
"Alex."
It was his father calling from the other side.
"Dad? Dad help me, I'm burning! I can't feel my skin, help me! Don't let me die!"
Alex pleaded with his father's voice, praying that his suffering would end, but his father did not seem to understand.
"Alex. I told you to go."
The foot steps were now mad stomps, the ground buckled after every impact, and the entire building seemed to weaken as whatever roamed past the door drew closer.
"Dad, I'm sorry, it's not my fault, it's killing me!"
"No, no, you disobeyed. Why? You do not..." Alex's father roared, and another stomp rocked the entire Earth. "You do not disobey me!"
Alex felt something slam him just below the chin, then he lost track of the ground, as he could no longer feel it through his feet. Splinters of wood cut and nicked him, and the burning shards that had comprised the handle branded his flesh as they scattered. Alex found solid ground again when his head crashed into something, and his body fell to the ground. He was stunned, he was burned, he was panting. He could not feel the hand that had been burned, and he was too weak to move his body and examine his wounds. As Alex lay, staring up at blinding white lights perched on some far off darkness, he could only heard the voice of his father once again, now even more twisted, and clearly enraged.
"ALEX."
"YOU DISOBEYED, WHY DO YOU TRY TO UPSET ME? WHY DO YOU," The sound of twisting, scraping metal filled the air "TORMENT ME!"
Alex somehow managed to raise his body against the wall behind him, he could see his father standing a few feet in front of him. The man stood with his legs spread, and arms out from his sides. His hands were fully open, and shaking. In the darkness, Alex could not see his face.
"WHY, WHY, WHY?" Alex's farther was hysterical, he was screaming madly, and began slamming himself on the floor and walls. Then he seemed to calm down.
"Alex, I didn't mean to. I just feel so empty sometimes. Sometimes, it's so hard. I just need something to fill me. That's why I take them."
His farther came forward, and now Alex could see that he was holding something. As he slowly walked forward, the object was lit up more and more by the overhanging lights. Then, Alex could see it all.
It was a head, it looked like the head of a little girl, perhaps from the one that had been screaming. It was marred by a deep cut down the side from which still fresh blood poured, and the eyes were wide open, one looking straight ahead, the other tilted up. As the head dangled from it's hair, which was gripped tightly in Alex's father's hand, the girl's jaw was only barely attached and twisted about a tendon and some strands of badly cut muscle.
"They fill me Alex, they do."
As Alex sat barely able to understand, his father took the girl's hair into his mouth and bit down on it. With his now free hand, he took his other arm and pulled. Without so much as a flinch, he broke the arm. The delicate bone and muscle below the skin snapped and popped loudly, but he was not done. He rose both arms over his head, and then pulled again. He began to breath quickly, and veins expanded through his skin all over his body. His breaths began beast like grunts as the skin on his arm began to tear. He then reached into the mutilated arm and took hold of the bone. He violently, relentlessly tugged on it, throwing himself back and forth. The shattered bone made a fine knife, and with it, he managed to cut away the surrounding soft flesh.
Alex wanted to scream, but his voice was gone. His entire body had shut down, he had only his senses as he lay frozen in shock and terror.
"It is so good Alex, I just can't help it. You understand don't you?"
Alex's father then took one last tug on the bone. He pulled out the insides of his arm, all the way to the shoulder. All that was left was a sleeve of empty skin that dropped flat against the body.
"I can taste her, yes."
He took the child's head and proceeded to stuff it into the emptied arm socket, as if it was a mouth.. Everything went in, save for the jaw, which finally broke off and fell to the floor. Alex's father quickly bent down and scooped it up. He leaned his head back, with his eyes now bursting out of his head, and slowly parted his mouth. The jaw dropped right in, and he crunched away at it with his own teeth.
"You understand Alex, don't you?"
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