Short Fiction: Scouring

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Strapped with duct tape to an old rusty table, Mark could only see the musty ceiling. He tried to speak, but his mouth was gapingly taped open. He could only grunt like an animal.

Sorry chief, I don’t speak ‘grunty’,” Josh snickered, coming into Mark’s view. “You’re pretty agitated, you might want to calm down before you get a coronary.” Josh glared down at Mark, the slight smile slowly disappearing. “And ruin my fun.”

He brought the wire brush into Mark’s view, running a thumb gently across the wires. Mark tried to move, but he was bound tight.

Josh leaned in, hesitating with the brush barely above Mark’s eyes. “I don’t care much about the other awful things you’ve done. Just the last one,” Josh said coldly. “He was only 7, and you just had to ‘teach him the rules’ didn’t you.” Josh scowled down at Mark, red anger flowing into his cheeks as white fear crawled into Mark’s.

You washed his mouth out with lye, to give him a lesson. Then you told everyone your wife did it before killing herself,” Josh growled, his voice rising as Mark tried wildly to escape. “But my sister wouldn’t have touched her son.”

Now it’s time for your lesson, to wipe those lies out of you.” Josh leaned into Mark’s open mouth with the wire brush, and began scrubbing. Bits of Mark’s gums began to spray the table, and Josh whispered into Mark’s ear.

We’ll scour those lies right out of you.”


Copyright 2013 Russell Dickerson, All Rights Reserved.

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Posted in Poetry & Short Pieces.