[ WP ] In the spirit of Halloween , write just an old fashioned , tense horror story .

'I ca n't even begin to describe how silly you look.' 
 
 He said it with a smile, though Jonesy could n't see his face. Could n't see much after he'd sprayed that shit in her eyes. It burned, but not as bad as her wrists. Rope cuts deep. Warm fluid, blood, trickled down her arms and under her shirt. He'd kept her here for a good while, hours she thought, and only came down twice so far. First time was pretty straightforward. Just a good ol' fashioned rape. This time was a bit different, though. He'd brought down an orange can of some sort, the kind with all the small writing and loads of warnings in different languages, and grinned a genuine, friendly grin just as he poured it out onto her face. She screamed, though it did n't amount to much with his boxers shoved in her mouth. Probably why they called it'gagging'. 
 
'All blind, my filthy underwear in your mouth, and still some of my semen dripping down your leg. Hope you do n't get pregnant. Not like it matters.' 
 
 *Nope, it does n't. * 
 
 All these years hitchhiking finally did it, she figured. Adventuring was going to lead to an adventure after all. The thought made her grin. He noticed. 
 
'What are you smiling about?' He still sounded like the church-going neighbor with the green sweaters and endless plaid ties. Definitely a psycho. Poor bastard. 
 
'I said-' he smacked her hard on the cheek, probably dislodging a tooth. He did n't need to continue. Now she was more than grinning. She was laughing. She could almost see his smile deteriorate. Inbetween her laughs, she inhaled more and more of his boxers, letting it tickle the back of her throat. *Here we go. * 
 
 The vomit pushed the boxers out and she felt it splatter on the man's shoes, hearing his rage build behind his calm voice. Before he could utter anything audible, she lifted a knee into his crotch. She was sure she felt one of his balls pop. Hopefully not. Poor bastard. 
 
 Her voice was horse, but that did n't affect her hands in any way. 
 
'Listen, guy, if you're going to torture someone, be sure you tie the rope right.' She pulled herself down from the ceiling with ease. Her eyes were a lot clearer now. The man was doubled over and his ankles were covered in vomit. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and pulled the rope off from around her wrists, slipping it up under his jaw. She tied it tight around his neck and lifted the rest over the bar above, tying that too. His toes were just touching the ground now. She wiped her mouth of vomit and slipped it into his eyes, watching them bubble briefly and him gagging, trying to scream in pain. 
 
 She looked around the room, humming as she went, eventually finding a pair of sheers.'Ever see a hot dog that's been cooked too long in the microwave, pal? Ever notice how it just kinda *splits*?' The look on his face was priceless.'Bet you were n't expecting to pick up another psycho on the road, huh, Mr. Rogers? Well, ca n't say I'd expect me to be a killer, either.' 
 
 She checked the sheers' snip, hearing a satisfying *snikt*.'Alright, so you want it down the middle, or should I just take the whole thing?'
