Excr: Dream of Pain in Development

A frown crept slowing onto her pale face. 
"Are you.... praying?" Her was sickening, enough to make the man feel foolish for calling out to an all knowing ficticious being he's never truly believed in. He twitched as another nail was placed gently on his hand. Thorn raised the hammer with a steady grace.
"I expected more from a gang member," Disdain dripped along her tone like blood onto the floor. Her disgust was plain, stitched onto her face as she paused with the hammer above the nail. 
The hardened member of ((insert gang name here)), known for his murders ranging into hundreds and gut wrenching methods of torture, whimpered like a pup. He pulled against the restraints desperately. His eyes still burning from whatever chemical was last splashed onto them,made it hard to see at all. Everything was blurry but the shadow of his assailant  was visible enough to make him scream. 
"For gods' sake! Just do it already!" His words, desperate, clawing for any humanity left in the predator before him, echoed in the stone walled room. Even with blurred vision, the wolfish grin was clear. She dropped the hammer with only enough force to bury it halfway into his hand. 
"Now, now," The honey sweet words were negated by the obvious sneer. "Struggling will only make it worse, I think...." 
Her victim threw back into the chair, pulling his hand against the first nail pinning it to the wood. Thorn smiled at his screech of pain. 
"I told you," Her smile filled with sick satisfaction threatened to split her face, crimson blood flowed like tears down her cheeks. One slender hand snatched the nail partially embedded into her victim's hand. Maniacal laughter dribbled from dark red lips as she pushed the angle then forced the rusted metal further into his palm. 
"Oh come now, stop blubbering." She stod and glared down her nose at him. She was an image of pure hate, animalistic rage embodied by a dangerously beautiful young woman. Her long black hair was gathered into a leather tie, lips like rose petals were stained red with blood. Her skin was pale white from being underground most of her time, and dusted with stains of red from years of blood gushing from her playthings. A black scarf was pulled across her eyes made many questions how she was able to see. 

The real first page

Fear edged into the back of her throat as she saw him once again. He sauntered almost lazily, but at the same time he was closing the gap between them as if he was sprinting. Her heart fluttered like a spasmodic bird, wings thudding against her chest making her ribs ache. The girl, frightened of this real life boogie man, tugged on her brother’s sleeve. Thade glanced over his shoulder, his eyes twitched wider before turning and vaulting off the rooftop onto the shed below it.

“Jump!” He yelled, gesturing wildly for his sister to fall to him. Ragni glanced behind. The bird fell dead in her chest. Cold eyes met her gaze. She could feel his breath on her cheek as he grinned, the sinister spark in his eye seemed to light his pupil aflame with a dark purpose.

“Hello, my sweet.” His voice was like honeyed poison, sweet but malevolent with a perverted sense of trust.  Ragni’s lungs seemed to freeze. Her body became rock, solid and tensed as if ready to spring but her brain wouldn’t give the signal. She was caught, like a rabbit cornered by a wolf, all she could do was stare into his eyes and the void they carried.

“I’m afraid this is where I leave you.” The man’s twisted grin seemed to consume his entire face, the corrupted sense of joy threatening to split his skull.

As his hand touched her shoulder, she felt her skin from her body. A scream flew from her lips and she watched as her flesh shredded around his fingers, her muscle twisted and stretched to fuse with his wrist, arm and body.  

He was consuming her. Body and soul.

Something ruptured deep inside the girl. Amidst the agony she felt something dark open wide in her soul. She could no longer see what was happening. Every sense was lost except her body being ripped apart at the seams. Her scream became louder, and higher than before no longer human it was the sound of torment, anguish, and hatred.

Then nothing. 

Excr: Sheep the the Slaughter

She stood there, among the other members of her rank, and wondered why she had even bothered to come. Maybe it was just her opinion, but Thorn didn't think that orphans needed a support group. But here she was, standing in a room of an abandoned school surrounded by other homeless children who, up until yesterday, had been terrified of her.

The girl groaned, listening to the whines of her fellow orphans reminded her why she was usually alone. She hated people.

The other children gave Thorn a wide berth, staying at least two feet away from the violent girl for fear of a bruised rib, or black eye. Though admittedly Thorn preferred it this way, part of her wished for a reason to deck the other children.

“I always find it so amusing,” A voice to her right followed by the jingling of a bell told her that Thade was standing close, probably having just stood from the crouch he was usually in.

“Find what amusing?” Thorn asked; though her scathing tone told Thade that she didn’t actually care.

“That these kids are so terrified of a blind girl.” The grin he was wearing was obvious in the words. Thorn chuckled her deep, evil chuckle that had once been described as a demon amused at its’ prey struggling to escape.

“She doesn’t scare me.” A brave voice scoffed from behind them. Thade’s bell jingled as he turned to look at the girl who had so casually offered the challenge, then glanced at his sister. A thin smirk twitched across Thorn’s lips like a wolf who found a pen of sheep. 

Page one?

Labored breathing. Heavy footsteps. And a whistled Moonlight Sonata. It was always so easy to follow the cumbersome noises her brother made; being blind was not such a problem when his breath was so familiar, his thudding footsteps so unique and his constant humming was the ambiance of her life. She ran behind him, a silent ghost in a leather trench coat. Her fabric-wrapped feet made her nothing but a shadow slipping between the maze of boxes and debris that made every alley way an obstacle course. She ran after her brother, wishing he would be quiet but knowing that if he was she would be lost in her world of black shapeless sight and dark destructive thoughts. Being blind was her tie to him.

“This way!” He yelled over his shoulder, as her beacon of noise dodged to the left. Thorn smirked and leapt over a box to take the lead. These alleys, scattered with broken lives and abandoned dreams, had been her playground all her life. Fifteen years of memorizing the layout of her city, the alleys, the streets, the buildings and even the more permanent pieces of trash, had given her a working map. She knew they were close.