Blackened Spiral Down Read Online Free PDF Page B

decomposition.  This display of carnage was obviously the source of the disgusting, rotten smell.  There was a woman’s arm hanging off the side of the table, with three of the five fingers missing, and that is what I believed touched the side of my face.  Reaching up, I could still feel a nasty, wet slime that her mangled hand left behind.  The mere thought of it forced me to hurl up whatever was in my stomach.  The cacophony of odors was unreal.
    I was reeling at the sight of what was before me on that large table.  I could see hand saws of various sizes, and an old vice attached the edge of the table, with what appeared to be a woman’s leg in its grasp.  The foot was clad in a nylon stocking, and barely hanging on, as flies swarmed to feast on the exposed flesh.  Then I shined my light around the room, giving me a reprieve from the horror show before me, only to find a neat row of severed heads on an old dusty shelf!  There were eight or nine of them, also in various stages of decomposition.  It looked like they were all young women, or even younger girls.  It was hard to tell their ages, as the gray pallor of the skin in the dim light gave a mercifully limited view.  Their dead eyes were staring at me, as my beam of light seemed to disappear in the emptiness.  It was incredibly terrifying! The stranger who I observed only two weeks ago had surely been coming down here for months, or even years, making it his workshop of horrors. 
    “Help me!”
    The voice cut the tension like a chainsaw through a dollhouse.
    “I’m coming,” I told her, making my way across the basement, hoping that maybe I could at least save one victim from this sadistic maniac.
    As I approached the other side of the room, my flashlight picked up a ring of keys hanging on a rusted metal spike, firmly in one of the floor joists.  I reached for the keys and began looking furiously for a door they would unlock.  I could hear the woman crying only a few feet from where I was standing, behind one of three locked doors.  The rooms were small, like the size of broom closets.  My hands shook as I put the first key into the locked door.  It obviously didn’t fit, and I tried the next one.  My heart was racing, as I couldn’t help but feel someone was watching me.  I wondered if the stranger could be somewhere in the darkness behind me.  It was unsettling to say the least.
    Suddenly I had the right key and turned it while I pulled the door open.  A sickening smell of urine and feces swept over me.  I winced and gagged slightly as I shined my light into the small room.  There was nothing in the room aside from the bucket with the human waste and two sturdy chains that were bolted to the brick wall.  The floor was concrete like the rest of the basement, and at one side was a pile of threadbare, filthy rags that were probably being used as bedding.  It was horrendous, and I knew that it most likely was a makeshift cell used to keep someone for a period of time.  The thought of what horrors the victim endured in her captivity, especially with the soundtrack of evil on the other side of the heavy door, was terrible.
    I then opened the second door.  I saw the same things in that cell.  I did observe some dried blood on the floor and on one wall.  It spoke of extreme misery and pain at the cruel hands of the sadist butcher.   I quickly backed out of the cell, knowing now that the source of the subdued cries was in the third and final room before me.  I glanced over my shoulder into the endless darkness of the basement and put the key into the lock, then pulled on the heavy door to reveal a quivering mess of a young girl.  She was cowering against the back wall, where her wrists were chained to the brick.  She was almost completely naked, except for a filthy pair of panties and part of a t-shirt.  She couldn’t have been older than 11 or 12. 
    I reached my hand out, and she recoiled at the sight of me, her body shaking with