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Nick PT Barnum's Case-Files

Updated on October 20, 2013

Another Victim

The prostitute had been squatting in the shower, washing her private parts, and when she

looked up for a moment she was staring straight into the biggest and ugliest face she had ever

seen in her whole life. It was the head of pure insanity, so filled with hatred and so hideous. It

was a face even a mother couldn’t love. Before she could let out a scream, the stranger kicked

her in the face. It was such a powerful kick she tasted blood instantly on impact. She tried

moving away, but he kicked her again knocking her over on her back. The stranger grabbed her by the hair and dragged her into the bed area. She was trying to wiggle free, but he stomped her face again with much more intensity.

"You’re starting to piss me off!" cried the stranger, and his voice trembled with anger. " I

suggest you stop fighting or I’ll make you pay dearly. I’ll punish you like you’ve never been

punished before. I’ll bring you close to death, but keep you alive. So I can punish you some

more. So stop pissing me off!"

"Please stop, I’ll do anything for you," she sobbed.

The stranger ignored her.

"Please, baby."

"Shut up!" he snapped.

"I don’t want to die," she continued sobbing.

"I said shut up!"


"You don’t hear so good," he said. "Don’t let me tell you to shut up again!"

She sniffled.

The madness was visible. The stranger laughed out loud.

She stared up at him like a frightened child. Her body was trembling uncontrollably. She

tried to stop, but she couldn’t.

"You don’t have to fear me. I think you should fear the after-life. That’s what everyone

should fear. There you don’t know what to expect. You can burn in hell, or maybe God will

forgive you. I don’t know the answer. You sell your body for money, so I suggest you expect to

be judged. I’m judging you, and my mother judged you."

The woman’s body had fallen face down on the floor. The stranger jumped on her back.

He gave one short, vicious twist to her thin neck. The cervical column snapped and the crack

was loud. It was as loud as a gun fire. The woman’s body gave one last contraction, then slumped as limp as a blacked-out drunk. Her face twisted sideways, tongue protruding slightly between clenched teeth. Her eyes remained opened as it stared into the urine stained carpet of the motel room.

"Now you can fear," he whispered. "This is the best time to worry."

The stranger walked slowly across to the drawn curtains to make sure no one was looking

in. He went back to the body. He turned it over and shoved his boots into her face knocking out all her front teeth. It would have been very painful had she been alive.

"God help me," he whispered. "I don’t know why I keep doing this. Please God help me."

He waited for a few minutes, but there was no answer.

The stranger lifted the body by her armpits and dragged it back into the bathroom. He

shoved the body into the shower stall and kicked her again. Her limp limbs buckled to conform

with the well of the shower. He kicked her into that five by five well. Her bones broke quite


"I have to admit," he paused. "You were a tough kill. But you took it like a champ."

The stranger reached for the faucet to turn the water on, but decided against it. He

had decided to let them find her body covered in blood and human waste.

"I want to thank you for a fine evening," said the stranger as he wiped the sweat from

his forehead. "I got your number, if I want to see you again, I’ll call."

The stranger took a leak, then washed his hands. He looked back at the body and smiled.

It was an odd smile, but a smile nevertheless. He walked out of the bathroom and turned the

lights out all in one motion.

© 2011 Frank Atanacio


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