It’s time for this week’s Song Title Challenge.
Write a short piece of fiction, around 300 words, using the song title as your story title but don’t listen to the song. You can pick your own genre or use the one suggested to me. Remember to link back to this post so I can find yours.
This week’s song is Flushed From the Bathroom of Your Heart by Johnny Cash, an oldie this time from the inestimable bumblepuppies. The genre is Horror/Thriller.
Advisory: Today’s story is a bit disturbing in terms of content and contains some foul language. Sensitive and younger readers might want to skip this one.
The song is great, though, which is why I’m putting it before the break. Enjoy.
Flushed from the Bathroom of your Heart
“Finally. I thought you’d never wake up.”
Nadia blinked against the blinding light. She tried to shield her eyes, but realised she couldn’t move her arms. In fact, she was completely immobilised, lashed to some hard surface. It suddenly tilted and she found herself hanging by her wrists, ropes cutting into her flesh. A face moved before her.
“Kevin? Kevin, what’s going on? Where am I? Why did you…”
The slap came out of nowhere and the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth.
“Shut it, you filthy whore. I didn’t give you permission to speak.”
“Kevin, please. Untie me and we can talk about this.”
“Oh, so now you want talk? Too late.”
Before Nadia could say another word he forced a gag into her mouth. It felt like her jaw was going to break.
“That’s better. Now I’ll talk and you’ll listen. I thought we had something special, and then you just went and left me, forgot about me. I was flushed from the bathroom of your heart like a fucking turd. You hurt me, Nadia. More than anyone had ever hurt me. Now it’s your turn to hurt.”
He moved behind her. It appeared that they were in a warehouse of some kind, though she could not see much beyond the area illuminated by the work lights in front of her. She heard a metallic sound and Kevin’s returning footsteps. Nadia struggled against her bonds, but they were too tight. Her fingers were going numb.
Without warning she tilted and was on her back again. Kevin leaned over her, his sour scent filling the air. She recoiled as the cold blade of a knife touched her cheek.
“You’re going to regret ever turning against me,” he said, and started cutting away her clothes.
Copyright © 2014 Herman Kok