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The masked mauler

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posted on Feb, 12 2008 @ 01:04 PM
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The year is a very dark 1485. The place is one of many cobbled courtyards found in and around the filthy streets of London. The stench in the air hangs like death has come to call on many a man. Death has most definitely come knocking for one man. This particular man is a murderer. A murderer so foul, so twisted and so deviant that he has been named ‘The Masked Mauler’.

He wore a black leather hood that covered all but his eyes. If you caught a glance into his eyes, you would see and feel the menace of the man inside. He got off of his horse and untied the half conscious man that had been dragged behind. Taking a firm grip on the rope that bound the man’s feet, the hooded man dragged him over the cobbles to some steps.

Thump, thump, thump was the sound heard as the bound mans head hit each step on the way up. Through the pain, that was a knockout blow to the head, he could just make out two tables, one large and a smaller one. Both built of sturdy wood. Up on the wall, he could see some ropes, some coiled, some strung across the wall. He realized his hands and feet were bound tight. His hands had gone cold due to the tightness of the bonds.

The hooded man dragged him across the wooden floor towards the wall. The bound man thought he heard some screams from somewhere but couldn’t be sure. The hooded man picked up a noose and placed it over the bound mans head and tightened it around his neck.

There was a wheel to one side of the wall and the hooded man walked over to it, took a firm hold of the handle on the wheel and slowly began to turn it. The bound man was pulled by the neck up the wall. The rope got tighter and tighter as his body weight defied the upward motion of the rope. He began gagging and struggled to breath. The heat generating in his head was incredible as the blood was forced not return to his heart and none allowed to feed the brain. His eyes began to bulge as both pressure and lack of oxygen took their toll. His tongue hung out of his mouth like a damp cloth in the wind and as it waggled, it turned a brighter shade of purple.

Suddenly, he was released from the agony. He came crashing down to the floor and a loud snapping noise was heard.

As a surge of fresh air entered his lungs he felt a bolt of lightning shoot out from his left leg. It was broken. It had snapped as he fell to the floor. He wanted to scream, but his throat and lungs wouldn’t let him. They were still recovering form the hanging.

The hooded man approached and grabbed the bound mans right arm and dragged him towards the tables. The hooded man cut the bonds on the hands of his victim and raised him up onto the larger of the two tables. Uncaring, the hooded man grabbed the bonds around the victims feet and lifted the legs up onto the table and let them crash down, sending immense agony up the mans leg. It felt like it was on fire.

The hooded man came to the head of the table, took one of his victims arms and place a small noose around the wrist of the victim. Pulling on the other end of the rope, the victims arm was force down onto the table in an out stretched manner. Then the hooded man took the other arm ad did the same but this time he pulled extra hard and the victims body weight shifted across the table. The ropes were getting tighter and tighter, stretching the man across as far as possible until the hooded man secured the end of the second rope and made his way to the victims feet.

The hooded man took the right foot, secured it in the same manner as the hands, and then too the left foot. The foot that was attached to the broken left leg. Without even thinking about it, the hooded man put a rope around the ankle and pulled hard. The victim gave out a long agonizing scream. He was now tightly splayed out across the table.

In immense pain, he lay there giving half screams half sobs and shaking from the adrenalin his body was producing, sweating from the pain he was fighting, staring blankly up into the clouds. Eyes wide open with tears freely flowing. The image of a prayer emblazoned across his forehead. He dreaded what was to come.

The hooded man placed a pole on either side of the table. He then connected these two pole by placing a bar across them that hung about 10 inches above the victims waist.
The bar had lots of barbs along its length. The victim began breathing heavily and fast as he imagined the possible us of the bar.

The hooded man reach for a knife on the small table and made towards the victims stomach. There he made a small cut. Turning back to the table, he placed the knife down and picked up a metal rod that had a few small hooks on it. Turning back to the victim, he placed the hooked rod inside the cut he had made, fished around for a moment and then began to pull the rod out. Attached to it were the victims intestines. Slowly, the hooded man drew them out and up onto the bar hanging above. Once fixed onto the bar, the hooded man began turning the bar and the victims intestines started to wrap around it whilst pulling more from the inside of the victim.

The victim was still screaming. He hoped that someone would hear him and come and free him from his plight. But this was London. The only time anyone really comes to help is when there’s a fire. Still, he screamed anyway.

The mess now wrapped around the bar was quickly separated from the final connections to the victims body. Luckily he was still alive and conscious. The hooded man was surprised that the victims broken leg hadn’t made the victim unconscious again. After all, the bone had broken the skin and was sticking out, covered in blood.

We now come to the hooded mans final act towards his victim. We can only imagine the horror and the pain being suffered. The hooded man reached for a cleaver. It was a big knife. One of those big chopping knives you will find in a butchers shop.

He raised it above his head and swung it down. Chunk! off came the left leg. He walked around to the right. Chunk!

Now the victim couldn’t scream any longer. His eyes were rolling as he phased in and out of consciousness. The hooded man started to chop his victim up from waist to the neck.

Finally reaching the neck, he gave one last swing and chunk! off came the head.

The hooded man reached down, picked up the head and said;

“Behold, the head of the murderer known as the masked mauler, let all who follow his trade feel the full justice of our laws, may they all be hung, drawn and quartered as he”.



posted on Feb, 12 2008 @ 01:42 PM
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Madness I tell you! Pure Madness!
Loved it.



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