Tears for Anathema
13 votes, average: 3.77 out of 513 votes, average: 3.77 out of 513 votes, average: 3.77 out of 513 votes, average: 3.77 out of 513 votes, average: 3.77 out of 5    3.8/5
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He stared at his creation.  It was squirming and kicking, trying to scream but it lacked the ability to do so.  It was mute.  Its skin was pale white, blue veins clearly visible: like blue ink under a sheet of paper.  The eyes were closed, but he got a look at them earlier.  Both were blurry and white.  From the creation’s side, the world was clouded in darkness.  From everyone else’s side, the creation’s eyes were clouded in neutrality.  It’s head was twice the size it should be.  Its forehead stuck out farther than its nose.  Its upper lip had a bilateral cleft.

Each opening reaching for its own nostril.  Its chin was nonexistent.  Right under the bottom lip, its head curved toward its neck.  It had no tongue as well, just a nub; squirming around.  Its torso bared no malformation, only when it got to the arms did things become unsightly.  Its left hand was missing; a disfigured, jagged wrist bone was the end of its left arm, as well as three malformed fingernails protruding from the skin.  Its right arm had a hand, but only three fingers.  The ring, the index, and little finger.  The fingers that were there were contorted in various shapes.

The ring finger was bending backwards, the index finger was much longer than normal, and the little finger had assumed a shape that resembled a scorpion’s tail.  The bone in it was completely solid, no joints.  The creation couldn’t move its little finger.  The legs both stopped and the knees, at the bottoms of the legs were shapes.  They looked like pincers that one would find on a lobster.  Only they weren’t as flexible.  They were rigid and hard.  On the creation’s back revealed a spine that was not straight.  It had formed a crescent shape that curved toward the right and back again.
The man had to avert his eyes from his mistake.  It was unsightly, he wanted to believe it was not he who produced this crime against nature.
“Mr. Stein?” asked Dr. Gori.
“Yes?” Mr. Stein replied.
“Your wife said you had a name prepared for her?”
Mr. Stein looked blankly at the doctor, “Leslie,” he said emotionless.  “Leslie Ericka Stein,” this was the name Mr. Stein, had always given his creations.  It was a beautiful name, and it was not fit for this monstrosity.  That’s why he couldn’t let it continue to use that name once he had offered it.

“Thank you, Mr. Stein.  You can go see your wife now, we’ll watch her.”
“Thank you.”

Mr. Stein walked through the door and saw his wife, laying in the bed.  She was filled with happiness and love for the creation.  She was also filled with dread and despair for it.  She had to wonder why she didn’t have the capability to create something normal.  It always came out like this.  She hoped it would survive.  She loved the creation more than anything, and if it wasn’t perfect it was meant to be.  She loved it no less.  The only thing she always lost affection for, was herself.
“Hey, Frank,” she said, weak.
“Hey, babe,” he replied as he hugged her.
“How is she?” she asked.  “Is she going to make it?”
“The doctor’s say she’s stable.”
The reply didn’t help.  She had heard it before.  Just because she was stable at the time didn’t mean it would last.  She closed her eyes, clasped her hands, and put them to her forehead.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m praying for her, so she can have a better chance.”
“But you’re an atheist.”

Tears streamed down her face, “I don’t want to believe that all of the children we had before are gone forever anymore.  I want to believe that I’ll see them again sometime.  Maybe God will help us if we offer our faith.”
“You want me to pray with you?”
“Please,” she grabbed Frank’s hand.  He put his other hand on hers and lifted them up.  Firmly gripping her small hand in his.  He got on his knees and closed his eyes.  So did she.
They were silent.  Requests and wishes raced through their minds and toward God.

She prayed.  Please, let little Leslie find the strength to live so she can have the best life we can give her.  Don’t deny her a chance at a life and happiness.

He didn’t pray.  God did not exist.  He didn’t want to believe his previous abominations would meet him in the afterlife.  Where he would have to answer for his sins.  One, two, three of his children died at his hand.  His beauty and his wife’s beauty were too good for the creatures they had spawned together.  There was no room in this world for them, and they had to be destroyed.  Leslie will be no different

3 Responses so far.

  1. So ends one of my more disturbing stories. I originally posted this for a contest. I had to create a story under 1000 words, and I already had the idea to do this that I had already dismissed. I figured it wouldn’t have enough substance to make for an adequate story, so I chucked it. Then I found out about the contest and I decide to write it. The original was incredibly short so I added in needless description and created this dark and needlessly disturbing piece of work. I’m unimpressed, but it was well-reviewed, so I posted it here to see what everyone thinks.

    • I didn’t win by the way. I don’t know if it’s because I didn’t deserve it, or because some idiot voted on it twice. The said nitwit was unimpressed, saying it was too short and needed “MORE DETAIL MORE DETAIL MORE DETAIL!” I explained to him the uselessness of his review and he redid it… Ultimately forgetting to change the 5/10 he gave me into a better score. SO it brought the score down and I missed first place by an unknown amount. Ironically, first place went to a guy describing a birth in gruesome detail. The description was brilliantly disgusting and the twist was that it was a birth taking place. Pretty good. I wasn’t impressed, but that’s just me. I can’t decide if my story was better or his was.

  2. Geeta says:

    its quite a disturbing one.. infact after reading first two paras I thought of reading something else but then I read the whole story.. its well written..

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