The Man Named Mr. Pig

Mr. Pig's Confession

My eyes opened slowly and I still saw Mr. Pig. He was leaning over my yellow chair, which was tipped over. He was directly above me. His arms were in the side of my eyes, and they seemed like they were shaking, as if he had been holding himself up for a while. My lower body felt sore and uncomfortable beyond all imagination. He seemed younger then I first suspected he was perhaps middle aged. He went up and down and he started grunting. A piece of sweat dropped out of the pigs head and fell on my face. My eyes became weak again and I closed them.

I woke up, and my eyes were once again blurry. I kept my thoughts this time. I don't know if that's good or bad.

Since the chair was tipped over, I was staring at the gray, stone bricks. My body was on the icy floor and broken wood. I looked at my hands to see them still bounded to the chair. I looked at my feet.

He had forgotten to put my feet back in my boundaries. I wiggled my toes, and lifted my feet up high. Then I used almost all my strength to bring them crashing down hard.

By some miracle, the force was just enough to make the chair get pulled up through the air. I expected the chair to fall back but, instead it kept me up straight in the chair. The chair made a loud clonking sound like if you threw a rock at plywood. The sound was caused when I had attempted to get off the floor.

"What the hell was that!"

"Nothing! Just probably a rodent skulking around" the hard to hear voices from above the floor boards was Pig and someone I've never heard nor seen before.

I decided that, if I scream loud enough the man may come rushing down here and find me strapped to this chair.

"HELP! IM IN THE BASEMENT!"

I heard loud creaking noises come close to the door and then I heard a loud bang. Followed by;

"I'm going down there!"

"Stop! Nothing is in my basement! You're intruding on my property!"

The door had been swung open almost falling off its hinges, when it hit the old gray colored wall. A large man slid down the stairs. He was in ripped up clothing but, he wasn't standing up at all. He was on the ground. He seemed to be an older homeless man.

He didn't get up after falling down the stairs. He didn't even seem to be moving. That's when I saw a huge long kitchen knife stuck deep into the mans upper back. Then the lights turned off one by one.

I watched as the man started to become out of view. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

I heard loud muffling, from upstairs and then down stairs. I heard the sound of metal clanking and loud of annoyed grunting. Then I heard a faint click and the lights turned back on.

I looked around and my vision was clear as day. I looked around for the man he wasn't there though. I did see a bloody trail go off the stairs however. The trail was directly in front of me. The trail then led all the way around the room until I wasn't able to move my head over my right shoulder anymore.

I turned my gaze back to the front of me and I saw jumper cables and the torture tools closer to me.

"No...no..n-o... not play time!" I cried.

My body was still in pain and healing from the last play time. I wish that his play time was just when he was... excited. But, unlucky for me that isn't play time. Play time is when he stabs me, laughs at me, paints me, and he still does "play" with me.

I felt an ice cold sharp object go across my face. It made me jump in my chair. The knife every second was being pressed harder and harder onto my cheek. Then he tilted the knife. The sharp edges was easily able to pierce my cheek. He slowly pulled the knife back. It stung and I could feel the knife go almost through my cheek. When the knife left my face, I heard stomping come from behind me and slowly come near me.